Chapter Five: Go Fish and Hot Pink
Hermione ran a brush through her mane of tangled hair, watching as the matted ends metamorphosed into graceful curls. Sitting down on the edge of her bed, she sighed heavily. It was their last day in Iceland. They were going down to the coast off Reykjavik in search of marine animals, and then rafting down the Hvítá River. She would miss this haven of untouched beauty. Her trunk stood by the door, packed and ready. Suddenly the luxurious, modernized cruise liner didn't seem so tempting. She wished she could stay here forever, behind that waterfall, watching the gentle spray of the water as it dove into the crystalline pool beneath.
And remain with that beautiful human, with eyes of stormy grey.
Awhile later, she was in her usual seat in the Land Rover, still groggy and bleary-eyed. After a short drive, they arrived at the harbour and boarded a ship to take them out to sea. Hermione huddled into her sweater, feeling the cold seep into her skin. She regretted not having brought along another jacket, as the temperatures were much lower near the coast. Casting her eyes around the deck, she bit her lip as she noted the absence of Harry or Ron. She expected that they were below, in the cabin. Hermione knew that it would be warmer there, but somehow, she just felt too exhausted and drained to move.
Shivering slightly, she leaned against the railing of the deck and watched the churning waves beneath her froth and curl.
Draco, perfectly warm in his black fur coat, noticed Hermione fighting the chill with her meagre protection. He hesitated. One part of him saw an innocent teenage girl who happened to have a really sweet smile struggling to keep warm. The other side snarled and screamed that she was a Mudblood; unworthy filth that didn't deserve sympathy. The side that had been pressed upon and emphasised by his father, who was currently locked in the equivalent of hell, having the life and happiness sucked out of him.
The thought of Lucius's grim fate made Draco affirm his decision. Trying to push away the traces of doubt that lingered, he veiled his emotions with his usual cold demeanour. He approached Hermione slowly, still feeling a touch of reluctance.
"Are you cold?"
Hermione looked up at the sound of a male voice, expecting Neville or Dean. Instead, Malfoy stood in front of her, regarding her with those steely, guarded eyes. She opened her mouth in surprise, mouthing soundlessly.
"I ..." Then she managed to regain her voice. "...Why would you care?" Hermione lowered her gaze to her shoes, well aware of the thick fog of awkwardness that engulfed her. Malfoy didn't seem at all perturbed. Silently, he slid off his fur coat and put it around her deftly. Then, he glanced around warily, as if to check if someone had seen his act of compassion.
"I didn't give that coat to you," he said levelly. "You saw nothing."
Hermione nodded dumbly, mouth open slightly. Malfoy headed quickly down the steps to the warmer cabin, wearing only a mere sweater. The last thing she saw before he disappeared was a silver dragon on the back of his black shirt, rearing and coiled, poised to strike.
When Hermione eventually recovered from the shock of Malfoy being nice to her, she remembered that he only had a single shirt on and was probably feeling cold. She forced her heavy feet down the steps and into the cabin. Malfoy had fallen asleep in the corner of the room, head drooping on the plastic seat. Hermione crossed over quietly and dropped the coat on the seat next to him as surreptitiously as possible, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention as to why she was returning one of Malfoy's possessions.
Hermione looked round the cabin again, and spotted Ron and Harry deeply immersed in a game of Go Fish. She approached them and happened to overhear their conversation.
"No, no, Ron, you're supposed to give me the nine if you've got it ..."
"But I don't!" said a bewildered-looking Ron.
"Then tell me to 'Go Fish'!" Harry explained exasperatedly.
"Er ... Go Fish?"
Hermione suppressed a snicker. "Hi," she said, sitting down on the seat opposite them. Harry and Ron looked up from their cards and began firing their usual questions at once.
"Has Malfoy been okay?"
"Dean admitted he's gay yet?"
"Is Neville holding up all right?"
"...Say, do you know how to play this overly complicated Muggle game?"
Hermione paused. "Yes, no, yes, yes ... is Dean really gay?"
In the middle of a short, healthy, humourous chat about Dean's antics, orientation and manic obsession with an Italian dessert, an announcement came suddenly over the loudspeaker in the cabin.
"We have reached the whale-watching point. Please proceed to the deck for maximum viewing accessibility. Thank you."
The group made their way out of the cabin and onto the deck, joining the crowd leaning over the railings curiously. Hermione watched the breaking waves, lapsing into silence.
A disturbance in the near water caught her eye. Ripples formed on the surface of the enchanting blue water, growing larger and more forceful as time passed. Then, suddenly, a large, sleek figure propelled out of the sea, curving in a graceful arc before splashing back into the ocean's depths. The beauty of the dolphin's curved, flexing body left Hermione breathless. Soon, the dolphin was joined by others, sliding their white noses curiously out of the water, so close that Hermione could nearly reach out and touch them. Awhile after, whales began to join the fray, rocking the small boat with the impact of their dives. Hermione watched, bright-eyed and laughing, feeling completely exhilarated.
And the grey-eyed boy who watched her almost – almost let himself smile.
After about an hour of whale-watching, they headed back to land and piled into the Land Rovers once again, travelling through the farmlands toward Drumboddsstaðir farm where the rafting base camp was located. During the ride there, Hermione bit her lip, thoughts whirling. Draco was wearing his jacket again, and she found it odd that he wasn't jumping up and down on one foot, screaming of filthy Mudbloods and holding the coat at an arm's length. Instead, he just sat there, looking as though he would be perfectly composed even in the middle of the apocalypse.
Hermione wanted to thank him for letting her borrow his only jacket ... but she didn't know how. Possible scenarios flitted through her mind.
"Thank you, Malfoy."
"Thank you?"
"Yes ... for your jacket."
"Oh, I just wanted to see how you would react if I was nice to you. You mean you actually thought I was sincere? Ahahaha..."
Definitely not encouraging. Nevertheless, Hermione gathered up her courage and turned towards him.
"...Thank you ... Malfoy."
Draco glanced at her.
"For – for your jacket..." Hermione bit her lip again and looked away. Maybe she should have just kept her mouth shut...
Draco remained silent for a moment, but just as Hermione was about to give up and die of embarrassment, he spoke. Well, grunted, then spoke.
"It ... it was nothing. Just ... don't get used to it."
Hermione was slightly apprehensive, but she gave him the smallest of smiles. "Well, thank you, anyway," she said softly.
Awhile later, they reached the rafting base camp, and everyone was suited up in buoyancy suits and rubber boots. Hermione suppressed a snort. Everyone looked about thirty pounds overweight in the unflattering jackets. After the guide went through the instructions and safety procedures, Hermione got into an inflatable boat with the rest of Sapphire, ending up in front of Malfoy, who was at the end of the boat.
The Hvítá River was amazing. A twisting, narrow stretch of churning aquamarine water lay in front of them, bordered by craggy rocks on both sides of them. Parvati squealed excitedly as they pushed off shore. The water began to get rougher. The forceful current carried the boat further downstream. Then, they hit the white water. Waves battered against and rocked the boat, causing its occupants to either squeal, laugh, screech, yell or – in Dean's case – shout 'Holy Tiramisu!'.
Neville looked terrified. Hermione, glancing at his face, put a steadying hand on his shoulder.
"Loosen up! Have fun, Neville!"
He looked a bit less tense, and started to nod. But then, the boat bounced off a rock and nearly unseated everyone. It was then they realised the godly importance and power of the oars.
Hermione let loose a carefree laugh as the cool water flecked her cheeks, warm from the adrenaline. She had never felt so happy or alive in Hogwarts. But then again, all she mostly did was study. Boy, had she missed out on a lot...
The water frothed and roared around them. Hermione could feel the river rushing forth beneath the boat. They were jerked, maneuvred and twisted by the violent current, but Hermione could not think of anything more invigorating.
Just then, Lavender let out a shriek and pointed ahead. The water further ahead dropped and arched downwards in a curve, due to the formation of the river bottom. Hermione sensed Draco smirk behind her – though how, she didn't know.
The water carried them rapidly towards the dip. In the berth of a second, they felt nothing but air below the boat, threw up their arms instinctively, screamed, 'Holy Tiramisued', and fell steadily back on the surface of level water once again.
The impact of the fall caused Hermione to fall backwards into Draco. He stiffened, but stayed silent. Already startled, Hermione felt even more shocked as Draco's hands gripped her shoulders and pushed her upright, lingering just a second longer than necessary.
Violently red, Hermione muttered an embarrassed apology, and eventually the awkwardness disappeared; overruled by the untainted joy of the churning rapids.
A few hours later, they were back on shore, drying off and changing into fresh clothing. Hermione felt sadness prick at her as the Land Rovers arrived to drive them back to The Hogwarter. Their trunks would already be on the ship by now. Turning around for a last look at the river that had coaxed so much joy, Hermione saw the faintest echo of a rainbow draped across the blurry, darkened sky.
Back in the ship, Hermione stretched across the couch, reminiscing, laughing quietly to herself at intervals. They had left Iceland behind them a few hours ago. Dean was on the floor, in front of the television, grumbling.
"Ninety-six channels and nothing's on!"
Neville was deeply immersed in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. Draco in the bathroom, showering after a 'short late-night swim in the decks'. Parvati and Lavender were sunk in beanbags, chatting happily.
"That was the most fun I've ever had in my life," Lavender said, sighing contentedly. "I wonder where we're going next?"
Hermione opened her ever-ready pamphlet. "It says..."
But suddenly, they heard a horrified scream. The bathroom door burst open a few seconds later, and a furious Draco stormed into the rec room, nightrobe thrown on haphazardly, hair still damp. Everyone gaped. He glared at them, then looked straight at Hermione.
"Granger! Help me fix this ... or – or ... I'll beat up Weasley!"
After their initial moment of shock, everyone recovered and collapsed in wracking gasps of laughter, occasionally attempting to breathe.
Draco's hair was bright pink.
When Hermione managed to subdue her incessant snorts, she got out her wand to turn Draco's hair back to its usual blond. But then she remembered what the captain had said about magic.
"Sorry, sweetie-pie," Hermione said sweetly, putting her wand away. "Not allowed to use magic, remember?"
Draco let out an angry bellow. They ended up using some of Lavender's home hair dye on Draco. But the colour was still a shade and a half away from his original platinum yellow. It was now slightly blonder; deeper. Draco complained about it endlessly - until they shut him up by stuffing a spoonful of Dean's first-grade tiramisu ice cream in his mouth.
"How did your hair get like that, anyway?" Hermione asked interestedly after Draco had swallowed and the bout of smirks had died down.
"Apparently, Parkinson was so fascinated by the notion of me as a brunette that she put Muggle hair dye in my shampoo. Of course, the idiot didn't realise that the chemicals might react negatively to each other." Draco grounded his teeth loudly. "Hence the hot pink."
After another round of smirking, everyone retired to their rooms. Hermione huddled into her blankets, watching the deep waves of the sea out of her window. As she shut her eyes, she thought smirkingly that hot pink suited Draco perfectly fine.
A / N : Finally! I'm done with Iceland, still thinking about where they'll go next. I'm sorry it took so long, I wanted to get this over with but kept redoing stuff, for some reason. The pink hair was something random, like tiramisu. I'm sorry, I can't help it. :)
Well, we're no longer allowed to give review responses, so if you have any questions I'll respond to them with a PM.
Okay, I just wanna let you know that I've been rethinking stuff, and if I do every country like this in detail, it'll take a couple of years and a truckload of aspirin to finish this. So, along the way, I might just shorten the cruise by a couple months or something, and I maybe won't be going too in depth for some places. So sorry!
Oh, and review please! It makes me smile like crazy and think of Draco singing Oops I Did It Again. For some weird reason. Ah well.