Chapter Seven: Aloha, Yo!
The next morning Hermione awoke uncommonly early, and went down to breakfast alone. It was still dark out. The air was cool and balmy, scented by the calm, rolling waves. She went down to the Crescent Moon, where a few yawning waiters stood around, blinking blearily. The only others awake at this time were a couple of Hufflepuffs Hermione knew only in passing, bent over the Daily Prophet, presumably reading the comics.
"Which one do you like?"
"Whichever."
A pause.
"...I don't get Wiznuts."
"I never get Wiznuts."
Hermione sat down in a corner and placed a simple order of milk tea and egg on toast. When she had finished eating, she went out onto the deck, leaning against the railing as she watched the waves, so far beneath her. In the distant horizon, the sun was beginning to rise, lightening the black sky. Shafts and streaks of patterned rose and gold split and bloomed, merging into a brilliant, blurry painting. Hermione let a soft smile slip past her lips and murmured a quiet, hushed whisper.
"Beautiful..."
Draco opened his eyes groggily and glanced out the window. The sun was just beginning to rise. He lay in bed for a few moments before giving up – he couldn't get back to sleep. He got out of bed and slid a cloak over his nightclothes. The bedroom was feeling uncomfortably stuffy and noisy with Neville's snores. Draco grimaced grumpily and headed up to the deck for air. Once he got there, he couldn't help noticing a not-so-unfamiliar brown head. Retreating back into the shadows of the landing, he watched as the girl gazed off into the blooming, endless skies. Her loosely-wrapped shawl fanned out behind her, a rippling wave of dove silk. Then, surrendering to the persuasive caresses of the wind, it flew off her shoulders and landed a few feet away from where Draco was standing. He glanced at the girl. She didn't appear to have noticed. After a few moments, Draco reluctantly stepped out of the cloak of the landing, and picked up the fallen cloth. Then he simply stood there, debating furiously with himself. The Slytherin inside him reared, and he was just about to abandon all chivalry, drop the shawl and run away when the girl turned around.
"...Malfoy?" she said slowly. "What are you doing? ...Is that mine?"
Draco cursed mentally as the girl walked towards him hesitantly. He held out the shawl and she took it after an undecided pause. He briefly glimpsed a silver ring, flashing on her finger.
"... Thank you," the girl said, averting her eyes.
Draco looked away. After awhile in uncomfortable silence, the girl, biting her lip, muttered something about 'getting some more sleep' and hurried off towards the stairs.
Draco walked towards the railing and leaned against it, his throat constricted. His blood was rushing just a little too fast to be considered normal. It was probably just some very belated adrenaline from the reality of the trip or something.
It had to be.
Hermione walked back into the suite flushed in embarrassment. Draco probably now thought her a flustered, blundering idiot.
Not that she cared, of course. Falling onto her bed, she closed her eyes and tried to get to sleep, but her attempts were in vain. Her mind was whirling with thoughts; thoughts of Draco, thoughts of hot pink hair, thoughts of tiramisu – stupid Dean ...
Sighing, she turned on her side and saw the cruise pamphlet lying on her bedside table. She picked it up and flipped through it.
"...Hawaii?"
Later that morning, the group – excepting Draco, who was nowhere to be found – lounged around in the rec room, with Dean yawning very loudly and very pointedly.
"Neville, can't you do anything about your snoring?" he complained grumpily. When Neville turned beet red and remained silent, he mock-glared and turned to Hermione.
"So, where are we going next, O Pamphlet Master and the delight of my eyes?"
"Hawaii," Hermione answered, half-asleep on the couch. Waking up before daylight had even struck had not taken kindly to her.
Parvati and Lavender entered squeal mode. Dean flashed a cheery grin. "And after that?"
Hermione shrugged, eyes closed. "I don't know. I haven't read that far ahead yet."
Dean looked unconvinced. "But you're reading it practically 24/7! Why do you only observe the tidings of our immediate future, and not plough on to discern the tangled trappings of the distant foretellings, being the studious scholar that takes refuge in informative scrolls of wisdom that you are?"
Hermione opened her eyes slowly. "I ... don't know."
Dean, enthused, continued his pointing-out. "And why is it we're always lying about in this room, instead of exploring the wondrous activities and entertainment this ship has to offer? And why is it I obsess about tiramisu? And why do Parvati and Lavender seem so braindead and stereotypical? And why - "
But, suddenly, a glazed look entered his eyes and he cut off abruptly, slack-jawed and blank. The others, fortunately, did not notice, though admittedly they wore the same sort of expressions themselves. Then, a breeze passed through the room – though how or why, it was never confirmed; the suite contained no windows – and a whisper so soft; so breathy it might have been imagined, echoed ...
"Because I say so."
Then everyone awoke from their trance and blinked. "What was I talking about again?" Dean asked slowly, scratching his head.
"I think ... something about tiramisu?" Neville said doubtfully.
"...Oh yeah."
A few days of lounging later, the ship stopped at Kauai, Hawaii, at Nawiliwili Bay. They alighted, dragging their heavy trunks with them. They were on the magnificent Kalapaki beach, of gentle aqua water and beige sand. Everyone stood around admiring the beautiful, untouched scenery. A modern-looking hotel was situated right behind the beach, along with a gorgeous pool, in roughly the shape of a flower with an islet in the center, surrounded with tall, leafy coconut trees.
But then the bombshell came.
"Camping?"
Everyone gaped in disbelief at the crew captain, who had an infuriatingly cheerful smile plastered on his face.
"Yes! Isn't this exciting? Of course, staying in comfy, air-conditioned hotels all the time would get pretty boring, don't you think?"
The whole cohort stood grumbling, excepting a few outdoorsy environmentalists, who were clapping their hands and jumping up and down in glee.
The captain beamed at them. "So, each group will have two three-person tents to themselves, along with a sack of necessary supplies and cooking appliances." He gestured around them, where tents had already been set up at marked distances. "You will have to survive these three days on your own, with what we have provided you. If you can't ... well ..."
But then, a local Hawaiian man showed up and waved to the captain. They began conversing rapidly in a language that was certainly not English.
Draco, who had been silent for awhile, scowled irritably. Parvati tilted her head to the side. "What are they saying?"
Dean glanced at the local briefly. The man was talking earnestly, with much gesturing of his hands. Then, Dean started to translate.
"We have cable television! Should I show you to your luxurious five-star room?"
The crew captain smiled and spoke. Dean paused.
"Oh, yes, thank you! By the way, do you get Baywatch here?"
The local man nodded enthusiastically.
"Did you watch last week's episode?" Dean translated for the local, suppressing a smirk.
The captain laughed and answered. At his speech, Dean started sniggering. Parvati looked at him with a question mark floating above her head. Dean repeated what the captain had said.
"Oh, you mean the one where they walked in slow motion? I loved that!"
Parvati was staring avidly at Dean. "I didn't know you spoke their language! Are they really saying that?" she asked interestedly.
Dean glanced at her. "Nah. I'm just messing with ya." Then, he strode away to claim a tent, chipperly ignoring Parvati's irritable glare.
After awhile, Hermione and Dean had everything set up, and Dean began showing Lavender how to use the stove, the latter whom was examining her nail polish and nodding absently, periodically inserting an 'mmm-hmm' or two. Then the captain showed up and hailed them over.
"You're going golfing now! Come on, don't dally, I'll show you to your carts. I'm assuming at least one of you knows how to play golf?"
Hermione and Dean nodded dumbly. They followed the captain to the Kauai Lagoon Golf Club, an expansive stretch of greenery surrounded by the sea, the waves crashing against the rocks. Once there, the captain gave them a happy wave and left. Dean jumped into a golf cart and yelled, "Mine!"
Draco picked up a golf club and stared at it. Parvati and Lavender imitated him. Hermione, seeing this, sighed and got everyone's equipment. They claimed two golf carts, three people to one.
At the first hole, Hermione tried to explain the general rules and gameplay of golf. Dean, too, knew how to play, but he was too busy driving around in the golf cart and shouting, 'Wee!' to teach the rest.
Parvati gave a doubtful, one-handed swing of her golf club and whacked Lavender in the nose. Draco, after an unsuccessful attempt to hit the ball, threw his club down to the grass and stalked off, muttering 'Stupid Muggle game' darkly under his breath.
For the entire duration of the trip, Hermione ended up the only one playing, as Parvati and Lavender, like Dean, found the golf carts more interesting than the actual game, and Draco disappeared into the cafe and wasn't seen for the rest of the afternoon.
When the sun set, they headed back to their tent and tried to fall asleep, huddling into their sleeping bags. Hermione could hear Draco complaining grouchily over in the boys tent, and smiled amusedly to herself.
"What a wimp," she whispered, laughing softly. Then, that disagreeable little voice in her head spoke up.
Yeah, a gorgeous wimp.
The next morning, the captain ducked his head into their tents at the crack of dawn, cheerily announcing that they were the lucky first group that was scheduled to go fishing out at sea. A fair-sized motorboat was waiting for them, along with a cranky looking crew member operating it.
Everyone got up grumpily, glaring and scowling at the preppy captain. But once the boat started, with a deep-throated roar of the engine, Hermione felt more alert; the spray of the cool seawater flecking her face, the wind blowing back her hair.
When they were had reached water deep enough, the crew member let the boat splutter to a stop. Then he brusquely handed them all fishing poles. Draco, Parvati and Lavender stared at them as if they were golf clubs. Hermione had not fished before either. Dean, however, had already expertly cast his line and was currently cheerfully humming 'Jingle Bell Rock'. The crew member sighed and wearily instructed them. Draco caught on quickly, and by the end of the trip had caught more fish than any of them, even Dean.
Everyone was mostly satisfied with their fishing skill until the crew member announced, "So, anyway, you all know you're gonna be eating whatever you caught for lunch, right?"
Draco was tempted to hurl the bucket of fish in his face. First camping, and now this? He turned away from the group disgustedly. They're probably trying to scrimp, the bloody bastards ... or just trying to kill us with poisoned seafood. Freaks.
When they got back to camp, Hermione, the only halfway competent one in the group, steamed them a meagre lunch of fish. It was better than Draco had expected it to be, though admittedly his expectations had been of blood, sushi and vomit. When she had finished eating, Hermione set off across the beach, walking along the shoreline in the shallow water with her sandals dangling from her fingertips. She watched as another group set off for the deep waters on their fishing trip.
Having seen no sign of either Harry or Ron, she headed back to camp. Dean, Parvati and Lavender had all gone back to sleep, and only Draco remained outside, sitting by the edge of the sea.
And something about the way he looked today ... something about the way she couldn't take her eyes off him ... There was something about the way his lips invited, something about the way she got nervous when he was around ...
No. Hermione shook her head. No. No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no -
Don't hurt yourself, said the little voice in her head.
I'll hurt you if you don't shut up.
It didn't answer.
A / N (Important): Okay, so people've been asking me questions, so I have a list of answers and explanations, so everyone won't ask the same questions over and over again.
Iceland warm! Greenland cold! Ya n00b!
Sigh. Okay, people love correcting me on this. It gets tiring after about the second time people tell me to look it up ... So, anyway, Iceland is a seasonal country, not a forever cold or tropical one. That's all, nothing to it. Parvati just didn't have any thick coats or jackets or whatever insulation you need against the cold commonly faced on glaciers, I don't know why she didn't have stuff like that, let's just say she's braindead and imagined it all to be sun and surfers and $k8t3r b0i$.
When is this taking place?
Eh, it's around mid-October now, when they're in Hawaii.
Which part of Canada were you trying to describe?
Not any specific place, just that one entirely fictional, nameless mountain. Mountain. Where it snows. High up. Yeah.
Why Hawaii now?
Okay, granted nobody has asked that yet, since I'm writing this before I've even put this up. But I just thought it's as good a time as any. -shrug-
Yo, who was the weird unknown guy that whispered 'Because I say so' or whatever? Is it some kinda evil, twisted, evil, meddling all-knowing psychic creep?
No. It was me.
Well, that about wraps it up. If you have any other questions that aren't here, feel free to ask. Oh, and everyone probably expected a new chapter sooner, right? So did I. I intended to get it up before Christmas – I wrote it before Christmas – but my very clumsy brother knocked over a glass of water, right into the PC. No kidding. There was smoke, and some sort of odd sizzling sound. He's spilled I think about three glasses and counting at weddings, restaurants and anywhere fancy. Hmm. So I had to write it all over again on the other com, and I got a little idle with all the Christmas and New Year celebrations. Eh, dui bu qi. Ah well, Merry belated Christmas and Happy belated New Year.
P.S: If anyone can guess the song I used for 'And something about the way he looked today ... something about the way she couldn't take her eyes off him ... There was something about the way his lips invited, something about the way she got nervous when he was around ...' I'm giving them a cookie. Well, I'm not sure if everybody knows American Idol and / or Clay Aiken ... but I live halfway around the world in a positively tiny country and I know it. Hmm.
P.P.S: Oh, and thanks to Natasha for all her helpful suggestions! I have to give her her way overdue props.