A/N: Yo! Ahoy! I had a great week, did you? I hope so! Well, it seems I've made a routine. I'll update every friday from now on. Unless I'm really busy on friday... But other than that, you can count on me to be ontime. I'm really having fun with this story, and its been easy to write.
Please R&R when your done. Buh-bye!
Disclaimer: Do you know who owns Harry Potter? You do. And now you'll know. She's not me
Chapter 3: Falling Through the Dark
Wednesday, May 13, Crabbe and Goyle, Pirate ship/ Gryffindor ship
"I don't get it… he wants a girl, right?" A thick, greasy man stood on the deck of a pirate ship, with a spyglass in his hands, and a frown spread across his face. Just in front of him was another ship. It was larger and grander than the one he was currently on. Also, it had the crisp, fine writing on the side, announcing its name. 'Gryffindor' was plainly spelled out in gold.
"Yeah, that's the point." A man egually thick and greasy answered. His words slurred slightly, since he was trying to make conversation, while gulping down a whole loaf of bread. "A girl, as pretty as you can find. Yeah, why?"
The first man held the spy glass up to his eye to get a better view of the battle raging on the Gryffindor. "Well, why would there be a girl there? It a guard ship, right?" The second man didn't answer. "Goyle!"
"Huh, what?" Goyle looked up, slightly perturbed for being interupted from his meal. "A girl.. oh, yeah. Well, I don't know, maybe Montauge knows something we don't. But, that's not the point. Just keep looking. If they say to find a girl, then there must be a girl, Crabbe."
Crabbe's frown burrowed deeper into his chubby face. "Yeah, well I cant see anything from this." Crabbe held up the spy glass, twisting it around, still unsure of which way you were supposed to look through it. Frustrated, he threw it aside. "Maybe we should go over there. We could find her better that way."
"Yeah, ok," sighed Goyle. He had finally finished the loaf, and now his attention was back to where it was supposed to be. Both of them grabbed a rope hanging over the rail, and swung to the other ship, and into the battle. They held their swords ready, but didn't challenge anyone. That wasn't why they were here.
"Do you see any girls?" questioned Crabbe. But his companion only shook his head. They stood there for about ten minutes, still standing apart from the battle, and getting quickly impatient.
"Why does it have to be a girl?" whinned Crabbe.
It took Goyle a moment to find an answer. "Because the captain's a guy, right?" Crabbe just grunted.
"Well, I think this is all just a waste of time. I don't s-" Crabbe stopped, catching sight of long, wavy, brown hair. "Hey! I think I found one."
"Where?"
Crabbe stared through the people as they rushed back and forth. The girl moved back and forth, coming closer, then farther, then closer again. It must have been a girl. She wore a cap, but half her hair had aparently fallen out. Soon she was in perfect view. "Over there, see?" He pointed in her direction.
"Great!" Goyle smiled, wanting to be finished with the job, already. Lets go get her." He stood there, though, not moving. A plan tried to find its way through the dirty muddle of his mind. "'Kay. I'll fight her, and bring her out here. Then, you knock her over the head." Crabbe smiled back and nodded. Genious, he thought. His fist was already curled and in place.
The two men may have been thick and dim-witted, but their brawn was real. Poor Hermione didn't have a chance to realize anything was amiss before she was knocked over the head by Crabbe. Her unconcious body was then hauled back aboard the pirate ship, and thrown into an empty cabin.
Wednesday, May 13, Hermione, Pirate ship
Hermione woke to thunder pounding against her head, and water crashing and falling. If she didn't know any better, she'd say she was on a cliff overlooking the sea, while a storm raged just above.
But, she did know better. The thunder was merely a throbbing headache and the sound of crashing water was the ocean waves against the side of a ship. A ship that was carrying her in the middle of a vast blue nothingness with the company of only a band of scarred, rotten pirates.
Yup, she remembered what happened the other day. Or was it just a few hours ago? Maybe a few days? She couldn't tell. She didn't really want to know, and that much had kept her from opening her eyes, or even moving to sit up. Everything was fairly quiet and subdued, save for the sound of the waves. And, if she strained her ears hard enough, she could hear shouting and laughing coming through from the deck. But, otherwise, at least in the room they'd placed her in, she was alone.
Twisting a little, she could feel the rasp of rope around her wrists, but not her ankles. They were bound in front of her, and slightly loose. If she'd really tried to, or had the spirit through the creeping despair, she could have freed herself. But what good would it have done? She was trapped on a ship with no where to go.
Finally, Hermione struggled her eyes open, and blinked at the flooding light. It looked like morning, so she must have been knocked out for either a day, or only a few hours. Glancing around revealed few things.
There was a small table and chair in the opposite corner, which really wasn't too far away from where she was lying down. The room was a relatively small cabin, with a tiny window up on the wall. She was lying on a little cot shoved up against the wall. There was a door, most likely locked, next to the table and chair.
Hermione sat up slowly, bringing her hands to her head and rubbing the sore temples. She didn't want to touch it, but without doing so, Hermione could feel a bruised bump up on her scalp, most likely bluish-purple by now.
Hermione stood up, again slowly, and walked toward the door. She shook the knob, and found it was, indeed, locked tight.
Damn… just bloody damn. This has to be the worst fix I've ever landed myself in. In a way it's ironic, though. Ron and Harry were always worried something terrible would happen to me and I never listened. Now, look where I am. Oh, bloody, bloody, BLOODY DAMN!
Hermione barely restrained herself from screaming aloud, save for a few incoherent curses muttered under her breath. Her father always said she didn't curse like a sailor, she was worse. She cursed more like a pirate. Oh, ha, ha.
She looked around for a weapon. Naturally, her sword was gone, and even the dagger she hid at her ankle. She knew fighting would do nothing, but if they were gonna take her, she'd put up a damn good fight.
Unfortunately, other than the furniture, there was nothing for her to slash swing or beat with. Everything was turning grayer with every passing moment. Every second, maybe.
Well, it seemed the best she could do was fling around the chair. It was the only piece of furniture that wasn't bolted to the floor. Hermione stared at it for a while, and at the same time tried pushing away the splitting headache that refused to yield so far.
Then, with nothing else to do, and half a heart that was filled with shame and regret, she grabbed a leg of the chair. Then she pulled hard, while the other hand held the rest of the chair still. She began grunting with the effort after a while.
And, a few minutes later -maybe ten, maybe twenty- and a difficult method of shoving the chair against the cots underside, and holding it still with her feet, she managed to dismantle a leg. Luckily, it wasn't a very well made chair, (rickety with a few rusty nails).
Hermione sat for a while on the dusty wood floor, huffing and puffing. That turned to heavy breathing, which turned into thoughtful sighs. Hermione couldn't tell exactly how long she spent staring into space, the sound of the ocean filling her ears, but it must have been a while. She supposed when that man… thing had knocked her over the head, it dislodged her focus, and some crucial brain waves.
Next thing she knew, there were footsteps, clunky and heavy. A couple of pairs, most likely.
Hermione jumped, up, then cursed under her breath again. The suddenness of the action rattled her head around again. Trying to think as fast as she could possibly, in the state she was in, Hermione ran over the short distance to the door, and hid against the side. She would be behind the door when it swung open.
A few seconds lasted a few centuries. But, eventually, the hinges creaked, and three men walked into the little room of her prison. She held the chair leg tight and ready, and brought it up to swing.
"Where'd she go? I thought tha-"WHACK! Hermione caught the largest one with his back toward her and hit him over the head. The revenge tasted sweet to her, and now she brought the chair leg back for another swing. But, by then, they'd noticed her, and unfortunately, the bulky man she'd only just whacked wasn't down, only hurt and wailing.
She put all her remaining strength into the next swing, and released. The pirate closest to her was ready though, and caught the chair leg, tore it from her grip and threw it away. She could feel warm blood seep through a gash from the wood on her palm. The man grabbed her bound wrists, and she didn't bother to fight back anymore.
He pushed her, hard, and she landed back on the cot, knocking her head against the wall. First, she saw black dots, and then everything dimmed, and disappeared into darkness. And, as her mind flew into unconsciousness, she vaguely remembered the man's face, and found it strangely familiar…
Hermione woke up to a headache worse than the one before, and a painful memory that was almost as sickening, if not more. She moaned, as if that would make the pain go away. She could feel her hands were still tied, and she was back on the dirty little cot, in the same pathetic room.
When she opened her eyes, the very walls seemed to mock her. Not to mention the man who sat in a three legged chair, with its back leaning against the far wall. He was staring off into the window, and was fiddling with a dagger (her dagger)and paid no attention to her movements.
He was probably warning her. Warning her that this time, if she got outta hand, the consequences would be considerably worse. Hermione held back from gulping. It was the man who had shoved her back, before. He had unruly blond hair, and cold blue eyes.
"What do you want from me?" Hermione got straight to the point.
Sitting up as quickly as the pain would let her, Hermione tried to look nonchalant, while glaring at her tormentor with all her might. But, she needn't have bothered. He didn't look at her, not a glance, not even to size her up. Nothing. He just kept staring out the window, and while she was looking at him, she got a funny feeling in her stomach.
Damn… I'm having a bloody panic attack. Hermione tried to hold her stomach as discretely as she could. It was close to bursting, and it made her want to curse everything in sight. She looked away from him. He never answered her.
"Hello? Did you hear me?" She stood up, and still he didn't move. It was like he was in his own world, and could have cared less about what she did or said. She walked a little closer to him, still clutching at her stomach.
She repeated 'be brave, be brave' again and again, over and over in her mind. "Hey, you jackass. You kidnapped me, now what the hell do you want?"
Her brows were furrowed, and her voice rose slowly. He continued to stare out the window. Then, slowly, his head turned. She watched as reality came back through his eyes. Recognition made him sit up straighter, and take good hold on the dagger. And, finally, old pirate habit made him sneer, stand up, and hold out the dagger toward her, threatening without words.
Despite herself, Hermione took a step back. Half of what made her do it was fear, and the other half was… she wasn't sure, but she guessed it had to do with her panic attack.
"Sit down." Was all he said, but it was enough. Hermione blinked a couple of times. His voice was deep and cold, and it echoed back into her memory. But as hard as she strained, where it came from never revealed itself. It was slippery as an eel, and quick as a cat. It escaped as soon as she thought it was within her grasp.
"What do you want?" She asked one more time, perching on the edge of the bed. He stood, towering over her, and she managed to fix him with the ugliest glare she possessed.
"What I want? There are a lot of things I want." He smiled, and it was the smile of a man who doesn't have enough, and always wants more. "You mean what I want from you. Well…" He paced back and forth slowly. "We can come back to that later, but for now… I'd like you to meet the crew."
Now, his smile was of someone who had something to hide, and nursed it with his pride. She was curious, cautious, and seething.
"Well, lady?" He stepped aside, and gestured toward the door. Hermione felt like she was playing a game. It was most likely information he wanted, and he was going to try to finesse it out of her. Well, she'd play along.
Hermione stood with as much dignity as the circumstances permitted, and strode past him to the door. After a little difficulty, since her hands were still tied, she managed to turn the knob, and pull the door backward. Warm sun met her face and made her blink a couple of times to adjust.
Looking around, she found about a dozen pirates on board. They didn't even feign work, just sat around joking at each other. They looked pretty drunk, but then again, they were the kind of men who were always drunk, whether they'd had anything to drink or not. The man followed her out the door, and soon the men outside took notice.
"Hey there Cap'n whatcha got there? Crabby here tells us there's a lil' lass aboard. Mind if I ask why?" The man gave a little wink, overexaggerated, and stumbled around to face the rest of the men. They laughed in unison. Loud and raucous.
Deep in her blood, Hermione shivered uncontrollably. And she had no doubt the man beside her -the captain- noticed.
He grinned maliciously to his crew and shook his head. "Sorry guys... but I won't let it happen." He thought for a moment, "But I suppose, since you just had to take her, I'll give you a moment." It should have made her feel better. It really should have. But it didn't. What they were talking about should have been obvious. After all, they were men. But the way they said it suggested something entirely different.
The man put his hand to her back and gave her a shove forward, making her stumble.
The men began walking toward her, and she steeled herself as best she could. She twisted and turned, but it was impossible to keep them all in sight. They stood around her. Some were casual, and a few had a greedy look on their faces. And, she spotted the heavy man she'd hit over the head. He had a healthy bump growing there, and in any other place or time, she would have smiled, or even laughed. He and his egually large friend stood back, glaring at her.
Suddenly, she felt a hand grab at her butt, which made her spin around, and let out a howl of rage.
"Hey there honey." He laughed at her, when he should have known not to. Hermione's face was stony, and tomato red. It seethed so much, and egg would have boiled if placed atop it.
"Bastard," whispered Hermione before unleashing hell's fury. She gathered her strength and fury and let it out in a quick series of attacks. She kneed him, and punched him (with both hands still tied). She kicked him where it hurt most, and finally disposed of him with a swift, effective kick to the stomach.
Before the man realized who'd attacked him, he was lying on his back, in pain he hadn't felt for a long time.
Hermione breathed hard in the silence that followed. She was proud of the work she'd just done, but also frightened that they'd punish her now. They could cut her up, or throw her overboard, or leave her to rot and starve out in the sun. If she had crossed the line, she'd be dead soon.
But, that silence was immediately followed by more laughter. Great howling laughter that filled the air around them. The only real words that she could pick out were, "Damn", "she got him", and "Strong bitch."
Hermione looked around her, and the men… pirates… looked impressed. Almost as if they approved of her, which was something she'd never encountered before. No one had ever encouraged her ability to fight, but here she was, prized for that and that only. Their eyes held a funny sort of pride.
It almost felt... it almost felt relieving, calming. The men stood back now, still laughing and making jokes, some went up and introduced themselves, and others gave her a good slap on the back. She felt welcomed, almost, not threatened anymore. They may have kidnapped her, but they seemed to respect her now, and accept her as something that could have been close to an equal.
It was exhilarating enough to momentarily let her forget that she was with a band of pirates. Men who had taken her away, and were trying to get something out of her. She was almost able to forget that they were men with an appetite for nothing but money, and a thirst for nothing but blood. She could almost forget that they were her enemies.
The only thing that held her to reality was the painful scratch of the ropes around her hands.
Then, all at once, the conversations stopped, and all heads turned toward the upper deck where the captain still stood. It took her a moment to realize what they were a looking at. It was a woman, and she was dressed similarly to Hermione, with dark breeches, and no shoes, and a loose, white shirt. Except for the fact that hers was much more revealing and her brilliant brown hair was loose and floated around her.
"Hey baby," she said, wrapping her arms around the captain, and giving him a quick kiss. "What's going on? I heard you brought a little missy aboard." The woman looked out over the crew and spotted Hermione. A slight look of disgust ran over her face, which was quickly replaced by honey.
The captain seemed to be drinking her up, as he placed an arm around her waist. "Yeah, just a little business the crew and I have to take care of."
The woman looked a little suspicious. "Business? What kind of business, Draco? Hmmmm?" The name Draco was what caught her. So this was the famous Draco Malfoy. The one she heard about when she shouldn't have been listening to the men in the next cabin over. He had only taken his father's place three years ago, but he was already famous throughout. And, she thought, that must be his little plaything.
"Come on, Pansy, you know well enough Draco's got eyes for none other but you." It was another crew member that spoke, and Hermione was surprised to find that his voice was filled with unconcealed contempt. It was as if the words turned sour on his lips. As if he could barely stand to admit it to himself.
Hermione glanced around her and found similar hatred spread across the crowd of pirates. The captain was oblivious to it all, though. The man was right; Draco had eyes only for the 'Pansy' girl.
And as if to prove her theory, the two of them seemed to forget that everyone aboard was watching as they sucked the lips off each other. Hermione was a little more than disgusted, and the men seemed to feel the same way. They shook their heads sadly. Some with despair, and some with regret. Then, they disappeared in various places around the ship, until the lower deck was empty save for her and one other man. He was one who had introduced himself as Montauge earlier.
He heaved a great sigh, and gestured for her to follow him, which she did, straight back up to her little room with its tiny cot. He closed and locked the door on her, shutting her up in her prison again.
Later on, another man came in to give her some cold food, which she forced down as best she could with her hands still tied.
And, after someone had come up to take back the empty bowl and tray, Hermione had some peace. She lay down and tried to sort through the mess crowding her head. Everything was so upside down, that she didn't know what to do next. And not to mention that Harry and Ron would be worried to death, searching for her everywhere.
Her life had taken a nasty turn, onto a one way street, and all she could do was let it take her where it pleased. She was lost, and there was nothing she could do. Her logic had somehow abandoned her, and now she was having more panic attacks, which felt a lot like something she'd never before expected to feel.
And, to make everything more frustrating and confused, just before Hermione fell asleep, an image of a certain blond haired man floated unbidden into her head.
Hey! Like to give my thanks to all my reviewers, thank you all so much!
UntamedSpirit- dont worry, I wont give up!
Bratmonkee- thanks again for the e-mail! It means a lot. You'll find out all the restlater.
midnight'blue'raven- Thank you!
trackstarbabie1200- Thanks!
Arenwena- Yup, Hermione's got spirit.
silverkonekotsukari- Thank you so much!
silverbunnie- AU's are my favorite types. And dont worry, I'll be adding more Draco! He's so hot!
CartoonOni- yeah, I honestly tried to make them like they are in the book, but it was hard, and I guess I just suck at it. But thanks for reviewing! (Yeah, homework just eats away at what little life school leaves you... sigh)
Mayor of Munchkin land- Thank you! (and by the way, thats a cute name.)
Whisper's Song- I'm reading your story as soon as I finish typing this. You rule, thanks for the publicity, too!
Morebeautifulthanthou- you're so weird, obaji. But, sorry, I'm leaving Draco to hermione for now. Besides, you still have Sanzo, and now Dante. Dont get greedy! Thanks for reading and all, cya lata!
