A/N: The final chapter- 13 Word pages. 3 weeks to type. This story began in november, and was taken to June10 (Coincidentally the date of the final day in this story.) And would you believe it? I didn't even mean to set it up that way.

The end is here. Please leave me a review if you have been following this story. And, any idea for a new story will be very welcome. Also, there is no note, or final word from me at the end of this. It's over, people!

Happy reading-

Tastetherain


Chapter 19: Runaway Dreams

Sunday, June 7 -Draco –Prison

Strangely, Draco started to laugh. It started off choked and pained and soft, but it grew with insanity. Impossible! Utterly impossible! His father? Here at the same jail? With only afew insignificant iron bars there to separate them. Oh, what kind of hell is there that could possibly surpass this?

His father- Luscious Malfoy- grinned, as if he knew his son would eventually go mad, and wasn't at all surprised it would happen now. But a grin like that did nothing to soften his features. Instead it enhanced their more horrific qualities.

In the dank and dark of the jail, Luscious Malfoy looked more like the monster that Draco remembered. It was a familiar face. One he had at first loved, then envied, and finally despised. It was the face that had nearly matched his own in blood thirsty hunger. It was the face he had spent his life running from. And now, when he couldn't have felt any lower, that face came back to him in all its sickening reality.

"Hello, father." Finally, the hysterics subsided, leaving only an empty shell of a man. "Do your worst while I'm here. You couldn't possibly hurt me any more." Draco could practically feel the eyebrows rise on his fathers face.

"Well now, Draco. I'm concerned. Please tell me- how you have been? What is wrong? I have spent sufficient time here, and I'm aching to be a better father." The drawling voice carried like sludge to Draco's ears. It dripped heavily with sarcasm.

Another chuckle escaped his lips. "You have to be human before you can be a father." It was more a passing thought than a comeback. His head hurt too much to think and his heart was too shattered to care.

At least that's what he figured.

"Come on, son. Surely there had to be something troubling you. You look as if… you had a knife wedged in your back. You-"

"Oh, get over it. You had it coming. You aren't just a bad father, you're a terrible pirate too." THAT remark grated on Luscious' nerves. He dared not look into the man's eyes, for surely his death was written there. He had crossed the line in two places. One, he had carelessly imprisoned his father. And, two, he had insulted his reputation as a pirate. It was unforgivable in those steely eyes that so matched his own.

"Well, wasn't that uncalled for." It wasn't often that someone talked back to him. In fact (save for Harry) it was never. "Has that little minx been putting ideas into your head… hmmm? What was her name again? I heard the little pisspots talking about her." Luscious motioned towards the guards. "Hermione, wasn't it? So… Draco, how has your little prostitute been doing?"

He thought he was sly. He thought he was clever. And, honestly, if he was aiming to get a rise from his son, he did exactly that. The comment hit home. Draco visibly cringed.

"We let her go. End of story." His eyes were glued straight ahead of him, to a far corner deepened by shadow. Images- mirages of her spun in and out of focus, teasing his already burnt emotions.

"That's not what I heard. I heard you two had quite the little party together. What was it, Draco? She couldn't handle who you were?"

"Shut up."

"Or maybe she just couldn't handle you."

"I said, shut up."

"Not that it matters, really. Once I get out of here, I'm going to kill you both. Well, maybe I'll let her live for a little while. I've heard she was a pretty little thing."

That pushed it. Anger building up in his veins, and adrenaline pumping, Draco turned to his father. "You'll never get out, you worthless bastard! You're stuck here forever, and if you even dare to think about touching her, I swear I'll tear you're heart out through your goddamn throat!" It wasn't until he had finished screaming that he realized he had run over to the iron bars, and gripped them, bringing his face up close to his father's. He seethed, and his innards turned to volcanic mush.

Luscious smiled wide. The rise he had gotten seemed to satisfy him, and his pitiful form shrunk back into the shadows, a silent chuckle parting serpentine lips.

Tired, and emotionally drained, Draco sunk to the floor. But, he couldn't help but imagine. His mind wouldn't let it go. The back of his lids burned with the vision of his father… touching her… hurting her. His muscles ached to help her, his heart told him to save her. But it was a waking nightmare, and he couldn't do anything. He was completely powerless.

A surge of uncontrollable hate filled him again, rocking him back. With a cry of frustration, Draco lashed out, and slammed his fist against the cold iron bars. They didn't yield, now holding red smears as blood trickled down his knuckles.

The torn man slumped, fighting off the feelings that had been plaguing his usually stone demeanor. The sound of his father's ruthless laughter carried him all the way into a blanket of sleep.


Wednesday, June10 -Hermione –Port city (Home at last)

Hermione walked steadily down the familiar, rutted roads as dust was kicked up, swirling around her head like a halo. Harry and Ron were behind her, making their way at a safe distance. Ever since she told them she loved Draco, they had shied away from her, unsure of what to say. But, as true friends, efforts were still made to understand. They tried talking with her when they thought the moment was right, and they watched her as if her actions could explain.

But, they hadn't gotten it yet. Hell, she wasn't even sure she did.

The big white house appeared like a mirage in a cloud of dust. A smile graced her face as she began to feel the real comforts of home. She was born here, she grew up here. Things made more sense here. It was a simplistic haven for her turmoiled thoughts.

She was looking forward to a long relaxing day, forgetting everything but the sun warm on her face, and family chatting happily around her. She was yearning for a beautiful, relaxing day.

But unfortunately, it wasn't looking for her.

Just as Hermione's right foot landed assuredly on the freshly painted porch steps, a commotion was heard from inside. "Hermione! Oh, my baby. You're home! You're safe!" She grinned at her mother's exited voice, which followed her through the front door. They stood in front of each other, drinking in each other's face. Something they hadn't seen in a while. "My baby," her mother repeated.

Tears threatened to spill as they embraced each other, and spoke incoherent words of assurance. As Harry and Ron came up behind them, Mrs. Granger embraced each in turn, thanking them for bringing 'her baby' back.

Eventually they entered the house, and Hermione basked in its radiance. Sunlight was spilling through the windows, touching everything in its path with a finger of gold. There were fresh flowers picked from the garden outside, which omitted a wonderfully perfumed smell. Their family portrait was mounted just above the landing on the stairs in front of her. Everything was as it should have been.

As Hermione drank in the familiar surroundings, Ginny walked into the room. She turned to her red-headed friend, and offered a brilliant smile. But, what she was given in return shook her. Ginny didn't smile, and she didn't wave. She didn't come over to Hermione, but instead lurked in the shadows, temporarily removed from the gathering, rejoicing family. Ginny gave her a look. A look that in all their years as friends, meant a lot. Something was bothering Ginny, and the fiery girl wanted answers.

Time stood still as Hermione attempted to read more into Ginny's strange behavior. What could it be? What could be bothering her so much that she wouldn't offer an immediate 'welcome home'?

Suddenly her father and a group of excited relatives rushed into the room. They milled around her, hugging her, and crying with relief.

The moment had passed.

"So, Hermione, how bad was it? You're not hurt, are you? Because, if you are…" Mrs. Granger shook her head sadly.

"Nope, not a scratch or a bruise. My body is much intact." But, she added to herself. It's not my body that has been hurting. Luckily her family was too happy to see her to notice the significant glint in her eyes. Draco…

"Well, from now on, I swear you're not leaving this house for anything but church or tea." Her father slapped her on the back, and she laughed along with everyone else. Though, they all knew, Mr. Granger wasn't entirely joking. "Well, we missed you so much, darling." He kissed her forehead, and she saw a mischievous look cross his face. It was there and gone in a second. "And, don't worry, we'll make the rascals who did this to you pay. It's all in the works."

From across the room, Ginny coughed- loudly.

"So," Hermione began. "Have I missed anything important? Anything interesting happen?"

"No, no, nothing much I can think of." Her mother spoke too quickly, and it only took a moment to recognize the guilty look. Hermione frowned. Something had definitely happened here. She just had to find out what. And, she knew exactly how to do it.

"Mom, Dad, why don't we go into the kitchen. I'm a little hungry." They smiled, and nodded, moving away. Harry, Ron, and the others followed, but Hermione hung back with Ginny. "Oh, and all of you can go ahead, I just want to freshen up a little first."

Hermione and her mother linked gazes, and her breathe caught. "Ok, dear, I'll make you something nice. Don't take too long, though, we have a lot to talk about." Her mother was no idiot. Whatever she wasn't telling Hermione, she knew was to be revealed by Ginny. Finally Mrs. Granger nodded, and led the others into the kitchen, talking excitedly all the way.

As the noises died down, and a tense silence filled the room, Ginny came forth. She took Hermione's arm, and led her to a secluded corner. "What is it, Ginny? What's happened?"

"What did you do on that pirate ship?" Ginny glared daggers through her eyes, but the edges eventually dulled, and the girl was able to get herself under control. And, once that happened, lines formed around her eyes, and she looked ten years older. Whatever it was, it had been bothering her for a long time- all through the night, even.

"What does this have to do with anything? Just tell me what's wrong."

The girl turned her head to the side and sighed. It took a moment before the words poured out. "He came… he came looking for you." Hermione shook her head, not understanding. Who's 'he'? Ginny bit her lip, gathering courage. "He told us everything- your mom and me. Then… your dad called the police."

Hermione shook her head again, brow furrowed. The redhead continued awkwardly. "And, he was to be sent to jail, and-"

"Ginny, who are you talking about?

"-the police fought him, and we thought he'd get away-"

"Who are you talking about?"

"-but they caught him, and he's in jail, and-"

"Ginny!"

They stared at each other, and the seconds ticked by. What Ginny said next was barely a whisper, but it hit Hermione with a force like no other.

"It was Draco. Two days ago, he came here, and he's in the jail…" But she couldn't finish. Instead she watched as Hermione ran to the front door and threw it open. But Ginny caught up and stood promptly in the way. "Please, don't do anything rash."

With a voice like daggers, and eyes like ice, but a heart like jell-o, she responded, "Get out of my way."

"Hermione, I heard the whole story, but you can't just go down there and-"

"GET OUT OF MY WAY!" Tears formed a silent puddle on the floor. They gathered, and gathered growing with every emotion thundering through Hermione's heart. Her hand clutched desperately to the door handle, using it to hold her shaking form.

People in the street had heard her yell, and some stopped on their way to catch a glimpse at the desperate young women standing in the Granger doorway.

"What's going on out here?" Mr. Granger returned, everyone else following behind. They had heard Hermione, and come running. "Are you okay?"

A set of tear-filled eyes seared into his own. "Why?" She asked.

He didn't know what to say, though. What is she talking about? 'Why' what? But she repeated it to him, "Why?"

Mr. Granger shook his head at her, confused. Just a moment ago everything was fine. " Hermione, darling, I don't know what's going on, but-"

"Why… why did you call the police? Why did you send him to jail?" Everything about her was shaking uncontrollably. She was looking for a peaceful evening, one in which she could block out the last month, and lead the rest of her life without Draco. But knowing he was here. Knowing he came for her- a whole flood of emotions had been opened.

Her father's eyes grew large. She could understand his confusion. Draco was the man who had kidnapped her. Why should she care? So, having nothing more to say, she moved toward the door again, shoving Ginny to the side. She noticed that Harry and Ron held back. They understood at least somewhat, and weren't about to interfere. She would have to thank them for that.

Ginny yielded, more from shock than will. Outside now, the group followed, carrying the show out onto the street. Hermione moved determinedly to the front gate. She only had one thing in mind- to get to Draco.

"Hermione, please, just forget about him. You had your romance, and-" Her mother's attempt was half-hearted. Inside, she was probably urging her daughter forward. So, the words didn't bother Hermione any. She reached out a hand, and the smooth wood of the white fence fell under her desperation. But soon, she stopped, her father's voice catching her.

"Romance? What do you know that I don't? Hermione, wait, please. What's going on?" A pause. "Please tell me this is just a joke. He's a pirate, darling. Not good enough for you. Tell me this is just a joke." There was a soft pleading in her father's voice. With all his being, he wanted this to be untrue.

Hermione turned to face him. "I'm sorry. It's all true. He-"

"But he's a pirate." The word was like sludge dripping through his clenched teeth.

"Yes, father. He's a pirate. And, I don't… I don't care what anyone thinks. I love him. I though I could forget, but… I just can't." Harry opened his mouth to speak, but was silence by a look from Ginny. "I'm sorry if it's a disappointment to you, but I can't betray my heart. And… and, I have to find him." It was like a revelation. Like an idea she hadn't been able to cope with before, had just exploded. "I have to find him. I have to be with him. I'm sorry… but I have to go."

The last thing her family saw of her was a swinging white gate, and a picture of her smiling face. The men were ushered inside, and silence enclosed the household.


Wednesday, June10 –Luscious Malfoy –Prison

It was almost ready. It was almost there. An hour or two, and it would all be over. That useless son of his would rot here for the rest of his miserable life, but not him. Not the powerful, invincible Luscious. They thought a couple of metal bars could hold him? They were sadly mistaken. It would take far more to be rid of a man like him. It would take death. Yes, death. That's the only way he could be stopped. And, he didn't plan on dying any time soon.

A couple hours, and he would leave this shit hole. Just a couple hours. Just a couple.


Wednesday, June10 - Hermione –Outside the Port City Prison

She wrung her hands together. He was in there, waiting for her. She had to get to him. She had to tell him how she felt, or else she would burst. She had lied in that letter. It had killed her to write it. But, at that time it had seemed the only open option. Now she knew differently. Draco was the only option. Love was the only option. She loved him. She loved him so much.

She barely knew him, but something inside her reached for him whenever they were near. Like now. She could feel him in there. Waiting for her. She walked up and moved through the entrance. A deep breathe and she confronted the lieutenant in charge.

"I'm here to see a prisoner." She put on her most intimidating look, though with red-rimmed, teary eyes, she wasn't sure it worked.

The man was unknown to her. He took a moment before answering, "Sorry, miss, but we don't normally let civilians in." He dismissed her after that, expecting her sorry form to leave with a mere shake of his hand. Rage built up in Hermione. Damn male pride, and their bloody damn belief in male superiority.

Hermione turned her face to the door at the far end of the room. She'd been here before. The prisoners were held back there, Draco among them. And, she was ready to use any means necessary to get there.

A new side of the torn girl turned back, biting her lip seductively. "Well, lieutenant. I just have one question." Her voice was pitched low and husky, surprising the man and sending him stuttering. Without giving him a chance to answer, she walked up to the desk between them, scattered with papers and pens, and such. And, with a quick swipe of her hands, the mess clattered to the floor, and she sat atop the newly cleared surface, swinging her legs around to face him.

Desperate, and anxious, Hermione placed her hands on his chest and brought her head up close to his. In a low moan of a voice she whispered in his ear. "Are you feeling lucky today?"

The man nearly collapsed then and there. He was too struck by the sudden change of… position. He just stood there, leaning slightly forward. And, that was all she needed. It took a second longer, and she had the rope in her hands, tying them around his wrists. While he was still too confused to shout anything, Hermione shoved the man back onto his chair, took off her outer shirt, and tied it around his head, sticking most of it in his open mouth.

A minute too late, he started to struggle and gargle through the makeshift gag. His captor smiled wryly, and found more rope to tie him effectively to the chair. He wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. And, with that done, she grabbed the chain of keys from his belt, and went towards the far door.

Her actions would have serious consequences, but if she was lucky, Harry and Ron could lessen the sentence. Or… she could always run away. The thought was difficult, but in its own way, tantalizing.

She reached out and placed her hand on the door knob. Another deep breathe and… the knob didn't turn, and the door didn't open. Cursing under her breath, she realized it was locked. Hermione held out the keys and selected one, but with no luck. There were no less than ten more to go. Then, she heard loud voices behind the door.

It was a sturdy wooden door, with a small, barred window centered near the top. But, she didn't bother to look through. Chances were, there was nothing to see. Not only was the room dark and shadowy, but the voices sounded far away, as if they came from the other end of a long hallway. Besides, it was likely two cellmates had gotten in an argument.

But, by the second to last key on the chain, Hermione was worried. She still didn't bother to look through the barred window. She fit the last key in the lock, but it didn't turn. Damn it! Where could it be, then? She turned back around and received a glare of fury from the guard, and smiled. She was extraordinarily lucky there was only one guard today. The others were probably out getting food or something. They might be back soon. That spurred more anxiety into her search. That, and the male voices behind the door grew almost to the point of shouting.

Sighing, she looked back at the guard, and reached into his pockets. Sure enough, the dirty, worn key materialized. She fit it into the lock, and this time it turned. Now, she glanced through the window, and knew her first thought had been accurate- it was too dark to see anything significant. The knob twisted beneath her touch, and Hermione sent off a prayer of thanks. I'm coming Draco. I'm coming.

Just then, a voice called out and she could hear it more clearly. The door swung open to this: "No! Guard, Guard! YOU SON OF A BITCH!" But it was too late to go back, now that she was inside. The door was wide open, but its weight carried it back, slamming heavily to a close. She heard the lock automatically click into place behind her.

The key was still in her hand, a harsh reminder of where she was. A step forward. There were sounds down the dark hallway, and she saw dark, shadowy figures moving. Soon there were shouts from the prisoners, too loud and garbled to understand. They all had their attention focused at the far end. What on earth?

Another step forward, and she glanced around her, not seeing Draco. The cheering and screaming rose in pitch, and she wondered how long it would take for someone to hear and come running. A third step and some of the prisoners noticed her, taking time to call out.

A dirty, pitiful spirit called from her left. "Please, miss! Please! I'm innocent! I shouldn't be here. Please! I have a wife and children, they need me!" Hermione chose not to believe him. She trusted the guards in their choice of prisoners.

The noise grew to an almost unbearable pitch. The men nearest her held out their arms, pleading for her to let them free. The ones farther down the hall were enamored with something else. She squinted in the darkness and saw a figure running towards her. Arms were held through bars, waving to him.

A final step forward as the man came closer…

Hermione gasped.

The toad blond hair, and cool blue eyes froze her in place. But they weren't the same eyes she had been dreaming of for weeks on end. No. These were older, crueler, so different, and yet the same.

Luscious Malfoy was running down through the receding darkness, straight at her. But she had seen him too late. He already knew she was there. And there was an unmistakable blood thirst in his eyes. Time slowed as adrenaline pumped through her veins, and her heart pulsed.

She didn't know whether it was a voice in her head or one in the prison, but it spoke with urgency she couldn't ignore.

Don't let him leave!

She was four steps from the door she had entered through, but it only took one great leap to clear the distance back. She could hear him now behind her- bare feet eating up the distance between them. She reached her hands out as far as she could towards the barred window. His breath rasped behind her, and her mind spun out time unbearably.

"NO!" The shout reverberated just behind her. He was so close! And… just a little farther…

Strong hands landed like a vise on her shoulders as she pitched forward, straining. And…

There was a metal clink from the other side of the door. It was done. She had taken the only key to the wooden door and dropped it on the other side. He was trapped here. But then again, so was she.

Hermione fell to the floor, banging her head against the telltale door, but she did it with a satisfactory, however grim, smile.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!" Luscious Malfoy landed on top of her, adding to the pain. And, just as suddenly, he was up again, this time with the chain of keys in his hands. He stepped over her, to the door, and desperately reached through the window, trying the keys on the lock. But it was no use, she knew. None of them would turn.

While he was preoccupied, Hermione stood up, rubbing her head. She turned away while there was time and readied herself to sprint down the hallway, to find Draco. But she got no farther than three feet.

"YOU BITCH! HOW DARE YOU!" The same vise-like grip from before landed on her again. But this time, it was her throat. "I'LL TEAR YOU APART!" She choked through the pain. It felt as though he would squeeze her head off. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think. Nothing but the pain. Her own hands groped uselessly across his. She tried to scream but nothing came out. She tried to breathe, but her lungs were empty.

And then, that pain was gone, replaced by another. He grabbed her and threw her across the room. Her eyes opened wide as the floor came up to greet her. A thud and she was rolling down the hall. Her lungs filled and her body throbbed. A whimper escaped her lips, and she heard him come towards her.

A primal thought of survival crossed her mind, and she tried to get away. But, her body was still in shock, and all she could do was crawl. What have I done?

One arm followed the other, her eyes glued to the floor, her arms dragging the weight of her body forward. But all too soon he was upon her. "No, I have a better idea. I'll let your little bastard watch." His hands found their way around her neck again, dragging her with him. She tried to hit him, but it was useless, she wasn't prepared, she was still in a state of shock.

Once again, the pressure waned, and she was flying through the air, hitting hard against the stone floor. She closed her eyes this time, afraid to see the fateful landing. And, a sudden thought crossed her mind. There's still noise, unbearably loud noise, but… it's was different. Not the same. Not as many as before. One. Just one…

Her brown eyes blinked open, and she was lying sideways on the floor, pain lacing through her head, and right arm.

A pair of frightened, but utterly perfect blue eyes met her own.


Wednesday, June10 - Draco – Port City Prison

Brown depths poured into his own, mixing with his fear and growing rage. A bellow of horror pierced the air, and he recognized the voice as his own.

That monster he called 'father' had gotten free of his cage somehow. He had waited until the outer door opened, and let himself out of his trap.

Draco hadn't known who opened the door. Logic told him it was a guard. And, all he could think to do was shout out for them to close it. Not to let his father escape. He didn't know who it was. The hallway was long and it was dark. There were taunts and cries from the other prisoners ringing through his ears and pressuring his temples. He couldn't tell. He didn't know. And what had he done?

Hermione was trapped in the prison room with a raging, murderous man- his very own flesh and blood. Draco was caged but now in full range to watch. If he had known, he wouldn't have called out. If he had seen her face he wouldn't have said anything. Fate, destiny, whatever it was- it laid a cruel hand.

Now, looking into her eyes as she sprawled across the stone floor, he reached a hand out to her. It had been so long since he'd seen her. Too long. He'd been waiting for this. This chance to reach out to her. But never had he imagined it like this. This was more of a nightmare than a dream. His heart cried out in joy at the sight of her, but it also screamed in agony at the situation he had led her to, and couldn't protect her from.

His arm reached through the bottom of the bars, across the floor all the way up to his shoulder. She watched him, eyes wide, and moved her own arm. Their fingertips brushed, and a curious warmth spread through him. He extended farther, and grasped her hand in his. By now, he was completely on the floor, the side of his head turned against cold stone. Fleeting moments passed in perfection. Everything around them seemed to stop, and two hearts beat as one as they stole time away.

But of course, it couldn't last. Her wide eyes expanded wider. A rough hand grasped her throat again, bringing her upright against a powerful male body. Terror seized him again. "No! Please, take me instead. Don't hurt her." Draco found himself pressed against iron bars, his heart moving his body, opening his mouth, and making the decisions for him. Freely, he let it continue.

Luscious chuckled amusedly. "Really, Draco. It was obvious you'd turned soft, but this is unbearable." Hermione struggled but held her tongue. She had to; there was not enough air in her lungs to speak and barely enough to breathe.

"Damn you! It's not her fault!" A breath. "Please, father, if you ever loved me as your son, spare her life." A hope, a prayer.

But, even before the words were said, Draco knew what they would be. "A son? What son where you to me? Disappointing. I'll at least be reassured you'll rot in this pathetic little cell until the day you die." He bit off the ending crudely, still clutching Hermione's throat.

This is all my fault. This is all my goddamn fault! Ice blue eyes pierced ice blue eyes, neither yielding, neither blinking, neither looking away. I will kill you. Sooner or later, I will rip you in two.

"Time to get to business." Draco watched helplessly as his father stroked Hermione's hair. He tried to look away but found he couldn't. His eyes were drawn to hers, and he was surprised in what he found in them. It wasn't fear, and it wasn't anger. Her eyes held a calm, almost contented look. He couldn't understand it. But, it gave him some hope.

Maybe she had a plan. Or maybe, she just wasn't worried. But, whatever it was, he was happy it was there. Her brown pools were gazing back at him, telling him something. Draco tried to understand. She was making shifty movements with her eyes. Glancing at him, widening her eyes, and then looking down. He followed her gaze to the floor, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

He didn't have much time to think on it, because his father had recaptured his attention. Luscious had pulled the curly brown hair out of Hermione's face, and pushed her down on her knees. "Now, I could break her arms, or I could just start beating. Too bad I don't have a knife. I wouldn't mind cutting up her pretty face." An evil grin. "At least you can choose them for their looks, huh, son?"

"Don't. Call. Me. Son." Fire blazed inside him as the words were ground between his teeth, and finally spat out.

Another glance towards Hermione, and she still didn't seem as concerned as she should have been. Grim, but not completely worried. And, she was cooperating completely. Her hands weren't tied, and Luscious wasn't holding her anymore. But, even still, Hermione kneeled obediently on the prison floor, as the other prisoners looked on silently.

It was easy to forget that there were other people there. None of them moved or spoke, and Draco's mind whirled only around Hermione, and the situation she was in. Luscious smiled at Draco one last time, and then turned all his attention on the girl in front of him. Finally, the criminals began making some noise. A few called out for mercy, but most made obscene noises, and gestured for Luscious to… touch her.

They were ignored by the veteran pirate. Instead, he reached out and grabbed a fistful of her hair, and wretched her head back. She gasped in shock and pain. But, she was still looking at Draco, motioning down somewhere. Confused, he followed her gaze again.

There was still nothing on the floor, but… her right hand caught his eye. Something metal, dangling from her hand. It was partially concealed by her skirt, so he leaned farther, staring at it. What is it? His mind screamed. A gun? But she would have used it by now. A dagger? No, the shape wasn't right.

Draco heard another gasp and looked up. A red mark appeared across Hermione's cheek, in the exact shape of a fist. Anger swelled within him, but was pushed willfully down. It wasn't time to get angry. Maybe, there was still a chance to get her out of this. And, if there was, he had learned never leave her side. He wouldn't take no for an answer. He would marry her, and love her for the rest of his life.

If he could get her out of this.

Another gasp, but quieter. Hermione was stubbornly trying to hide the pain. But it was hard. She doubled over from a kick to her stomach, and forced herself to signal to Draco again.

His eyes moved back to her right hand. There was more showing, and leaning to the side, he could see… keys! She had the keys to the cells. It was a rusty metal ring, filled with similar keys.

The ring disappeared behind Hermione's skirts again, just as another blow was struck to he lower back. She flew forward, farther than Luscious intended. Draco watched as his father walked calmly to Hermione's sprawled form. She was on her stomach, her head a few feet from the bars of his cell. He saw the ring come out again, and he readied himself.

Luscious was almost upon her again, but stopped in his tracks. "Bitch! Give them to me!" But, he was late again. Hermione flung the ring through the iron bars, and Draco snatched them up quickly.

"Noooo!" Luscious flung himself at the bars, groping for the keys, but Draco was out of reach before his father could touch him. Arms reached for him, and a sneer lit up his face in defiance of the man who had raised him- the man who had ruined him.

Behind his father, Hermione jumped up, an evil grin spreading across her face. She positioned herself, and while her target was still preoccupied, landed a hard kick to his groin.

A scream like no other lit up the hallway, and the infamous pirate fell to the floor, clutching his wounded area. "Damn you!"

But, Hermione didn't leave it at that. As Draco fumbled through the keys, searching for the right one, she ruthlessly began kicking him. His stomach, his legs, his face. She was yelling, cursing like a veteran sailor. He couldn't understand the flow of curses cutting through the air, but could guess what they were.

Finally, a key fit snugly in the lock, and turned with a barely audible 'click'. He was out the cell in a flash, eyes burning with a murderous rage. Another second and he was standing above Luscious, holding Hermione back for a moment. "I'm going to enjoy this… father"


Wednesday, June10 –Luscious Malfoy – Port City Prison

He looked up into the face of his son, and saw his death there. That damn girl had ruined everything. He was ready to beat her, ready to kill her. He was warming up, getting excited. He was enjoying himself. The power, the hate.

But he didn't see the keys until too late. He had watched in slow motion as they slid across the floor, and into Draco's cell. Then, as he was distracted, she took advantage. He let a little whore beat him. He let a little brat of a son stand over him like this. Holding his own power, and an even stronger hate.

Luscious was sore, bruised and battered. That girl had spared less mercy than he had. His breathing was labored, his ribs likely cracked, and his groin burned horribly.

It was over- he was dead. "I'm going to enjoy this… father" A slow regret spread over him. A regret for all that had happened, to bring him to this place. The regret of knowing he had brought about his own end.

But it lasted only a second, and the familiar resentment and bile-rich anger flowed through him. A mixture of blood and spit filled his mouth, and Luscious wasted no time in spitting it on his son's feet. "Fuck you."

He saw it coming before it happened. His own undoing flying straight for his face. If there was any chance god would forgive him, the pain would end soon, and the death would be swift.

The blow barely registered as his brain crashed against the walls of his skull. Blackness engulfed the hateful bowels of his mind. But as he left, a voice followed him. "I hate you…"


Wednesday, June10 –Hermione – Port City Prison

She watched as Draco silenced his father with a crushing blow to the head. She wasn't sure if he would survive it. The skull could have cracked, the brain could have been damaged. It didn't matter at all to her.

Draco wound up for another viscous attack, but Hermione moved in front of him. She placed her hands on his upper arms and gazed into his face. "That's enough. He's gone." She saw the restraint in his eyes, the temptation to beat his father's body into pieces, but he let go.

They stood like that for a moment, the prisoners murmuring around them. "Draco…" Her stomach burned, and she knew a bruise would be forming. Her cheek was still sore, and her back probably had a footprint scarred into it. But that hardly mattered. She was with Draco again, nothing between them now.

He didn't more, and a black despair began to fill her heart. She had come here looking for answers. But what if she got the wrong ones?

His eyes focused to look steadily at her. "Hermione…" She let her arms fall to her side, and took a backward glance at Luscious Malfoy's limp body. A trickle of blood was escaping through his ear, dripping past his cheek to the stone floor. He was gone, and the empty body was starting to stink.

Hermione turned back, grabbed Draco's hand and pulled him farther away. "Draco…" She forced herself to finish the sentence. "… why did you come here?" His eyes ceaselessly followed her as she shifted back and forth on her feet. She couldn't read him, and she didn't want to try. She wanted him to tell her the truth, she wanted it in words.

"I don't know." Emotions whirled within her. What did he mean? Another glance at the dead body. It wasn't an easy thing to forget, but she needed to know now

"Why were you looking for me? I know you went to my house."

"I- don't know." She felt ready to cry. Why wasn't he telling her anything?

"Please. Why did you come here? What were you going to tell me?"

His voice was serious as he repeated, "I don't know."

She seethed with frustration as she stepped up to him and slammed her fist into his chest.. "Damn it, Draco, tell me!" Too much had happened today, too much was happening now. This one sided interrogation was the last straw.

A soft tear slid from the corner of one eye, leaving a path of wetness along her cheek. She looked away from him, far to the side. The prisoners around them had gone mostly silent. She could feel her heart beating.

A warm, dirty hand came up to meet her face, wiping away the tear that had fallen. She could feel that it left more grime than it had wiped away. Another hand enveloped her own, quaking uselessly on his chest. He held it then, across his heart.

The first hand lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Hermione… don't cry. She was pulled toward him, their bodies meeting, and she bit her lip at the feeling of it. Something she had been missing for too long. She vaguely listened to what he was saying. She was lost in his eyes, unable to focus completely.

"I don't know, because… I really don't. I had to get to you, and I had to talk to you. I wanted to get you back, I think, but… I wasn't really thinking. Hermione… listen to me."

She bent her head to his chest, reveling in the warmth. Exhaustion was creeping into her, now that the adrenaline had worn off. "I'm listening."

He brought her face up again, then put his arms tightly around her. "No, you're not." A smile. A wonderful smile. A smile just for her- only for her.

She smiled back, sleepily. "Yes, I am."

Draco, brought her over to his empty cell, and sat down. He leaned against the bars, then took her into his lap, and held her again. She felt so warm in his embrace. So safe and happy. Her injuries were nearly forgotten, her pain ebbing away.

Hermione leaned against his chest, cuddling against him. "What is it, Draco?" Their eyes met again, and he grinned almost awkwardly. His hands stroked her hair, and caressed her back.

"Will… will you marry me?" Her eyes widened, and her lips parted. Her sleepy mind awoke suddenly, and reality came crashing down on her. Questions of how? Why? When? What? But she let a flood of feeling override them.

She shut out her inner voice, and let only one thing control her: Love. A smile like no other lit up her face, and she didn't bother to give him an outright answer. She thought her actions would tell him well enough.

Hermione flung her arms around his neck, and kissed him fiercely, holding nothing back. She tasted him, and drank him in. She kissed him like she would never again have the privilege. And, it felt like heaven. It felt better than all the gold in the world.

They pulled back for air, and a wolfish grin crossed Draco's face. And it was finally then that she knew. She recognized him. That day three years ago, in an empty alleyway, this man had taken her first kiss. Never would she have guessed that later he would take her heart too.

The memory had plagued her, and thrilled her for the longest time. It seemed terribly fitting now, though. He was her first kiss. And, if she had it her way, he would be her last.

She kissed him again, and sank into his softness. The prisoners made noises, but they skipped past her ears.

The guards would be coming soon, and would let them out. The sun would set, and they would have to figure out what to do next. But that wasn't now. That wasn't important yet.

There was only her, Draco, and a sort of peaceful joy.

She gazed at him, and laughed at the absurdity of sitting in a cell -with the rotting corpse of his father, and a dozen noisy prisoners- holding on to each other.

She brushed the hair from his eyes. "You rogue, you stole my first kiss."

THE END