Sole Survivor
Day Thirty-Two, morning
Kiki mumbles something. I have to ask her to repeat, as she's facing away from me. In fact, she's sitting on a rock and I'm giving her a haircut, thanks to the scissors in Malfoy's toiletry kit.
"I said, only one week left." She heaves a sigh.
"You sound like it's your last week on earth."
"In a way, it's just … an ending, you know what I mean? I'm going to miss you."
I continue clipping away at her hair. "We'll see each other afterward."
"Promise?"
"Promise." I finish up on the back of her head, ruffle my hand through her hair, and step aside.
Kiki runs her hands through her shortened hair. "Thanks, it was really getting shaggy."
I can understand how a month without a haircut can really show on someone with hair almost as short as a boy's. As for me, the new growth barely makes a change in my already long hair. Kiki heads off to the waterfall to rinse all the itchy little hairs away, and I look for Malfoy so I can return his scissors. After hunting around the camp, I see him out in our boat with Sheryl, lazily paddling his way back to shore. Guess I'll have to wait a while for the man himself.
I round the corner of the shelter to see if I can find where Malfoy stores the toiletry kit, and instead happen upon Pete. He's standing near the shelter, leaning against a palm tree, inspecting his fingernails.
"Looking for Mr. Wonderful, I presume?"
I roll my eyes at Pete. "Give me a break."
In less than a second, he's standing right in front of me. I barely have time to gasp in shock.
"You really … really … don't want to make an enemy of me, Hermione." He hisses my name and then grins too wide, almost as if he's baring his teeth for an attack, but with his teeth gritted tightly together.
I nearly back down. But then I realize how very sick and tired I am of Pete's issues.
"Or else what, Pete? What are you going to do? Vote me out? Take me down with your powerful tribe of one?"
He steps even closer, so that our bodies are practically touching. I try to back away, but he has me trapped up against the shelter. I can sense a full-blown panic attack coming.
"Oh, no," he whispers. "I can do much worse than that."
He turns on his heel and walks into the jungle, invisible after a moment.
I can handle this. Really, I can.
Were we not on this island in the middle of nowhere, with cameras recording our every move, I would be able to simply hit him with a spell. Turn him into a frog. Give him jelly legs. But no, not here, with a million dollars at stake. Here, I'm nearly helpless if I don't want to be outed. I take some deep breaths and finally manage to get my heart rate back into the normal zone.
There's a rustle to my left, and I spin around quickly. My heart starts speeding up again.
It's just Malfoy, holding the fishing net. His smile fades from his face upon seeing my expression. My deep breaths and calming ritual start again.
"What happened? You looked like you wanted to kill me. And I know that look."
"Pete just left. He wanted to talk to me."
Malfoy's expression immediately turns angry. "What did he say?"
I open my mouth to speak, then close it again. It's not that I don't trust Malfoy. It's just that I don't want to be seen as frightened, or nervous, or concerned about Pete. I don't want to be seen as weak in any way. Not to the rest of the players, and definitely not to Malfoy. Okay, so maybe I don't entirely trust Malfoy. I've just seen him take advantage of weakness too many times. I open my mouth to speak again.
"Um … just the same old crap. Hates you, hates me, blah blah blah."
Malfoy narrows his eyes at me, knowing that I'm holding something back. "You're all right, then?"
"Sure. No problem. Right as rain."
He studies me for a moment longer, comes to the realization that I'm not going to share anything more, and sighs. Shaking his head, he says, "I came to find you. It's almost time to go."
Time to go. Finally. I've been distracting myself all morning with water runs and haircuts and various other stupid chores to make the time pass more quickly. But now it's almost time to leave the camp for a few hours and have a gourmet lunch and dinner aboard what I hope is a luxurious ship. Even more important, though, is a three-hour period between lunch and dinner. I get to spend that time alone with Malfoy, with no cameras, no microphones, no crew members or producers.
And hopefully, with plenty of answers.
* * * * * * * * * *
I finish tying my shoelaces just as I hear a buzzing noise out on the lagoon. I stand up and look out to the ocean, shielding my eyes from the sun. Off on the horizon is a small dot, steadily growing larger. As the buzzing sound increases, the dot turns into a blob, which turns into a motorboat. It swiftly cuts through the placid waters of the lagoon and heads directly for our beach. The engines power down, and the boat gently glides up on the sand.
Marcus hops down from the bow onto our beach. With a big television smile on his face, he strides over to where Malfoy and I stand.
"So, you two, ready to claim your reward for the day?"
Malfoy and I answer at the same time. "Hell, yeah."
I grin up at Malfoy, and he smiles back at me. Marcus laughs and beckons us forth, and we start toward the motorboat.
Kiki shouts from up by the shelter, "have fun, you two!"
Ellen chimes in, "don't do anything I wouldn't do!"
Malfoy mutters to me, "what wouldn't she do?"
"Probably a lot," I whisper back.
We climb into the boat, both Malfoy and Marcus each taking one of my hands and pulling me up. As one of the production team pushes the boat back off the sand, we settle in to the comfortable seats. I wave back at the camp, and Malfoy follows my lead. Kiki, Ellen and Sheryl wave back enthusiastically. I can see Pete, standing sullenly near the trees. He's certainly not waving.
The boat turns around and heads back out to sea. Marcus and a cameraman lean in toward us, deciding this would be a good time for some interview questions.
"So, excited about the reward?"
Malfoy nods. "It'll be nice to have a couple of good meals."
"Marcus looks at me. "How about that time off-camera? Any ideas what you're going to do with that?"
I give him a neutral expression, my best poker face. "Probably just rest and relax. I hope you have some good books on that boat."
Marcus smiles knowingly, then turns away to speak to the man driving the boat. I suspect Marcus has some firm ideas in his head about how we'll occupy our time. After all, we have shared a couple of close moments on camera. I'm sure the crew is fully aware of something going on, even if some of our teammates are still blissfully ignorant.
Our small boat comes around the point of the island, and there it is. A lovely triple-masted schooner, sails fluttering lightly and sitting calmly in the water. As we get close, I can tell that this boat they've chartered for us is very well cared for. The wood sides gleam in the sunshine, and the sails are crisp and white. The motorboat pulls up alongside the schooner, next to a rope ladder.
"Ladies first." Malfoy nudges me with his elbow. I get up and walk over to the side of the boat, grabbing onto the ladder. Slowly, I haul myself up. Climbing a rope ladder is not as easy as I always thought it would be. As I near the top, I feel a tugging from below. I look down to see Malfoy starting the climb, and having no easier a time of climbing the rickety ladder. I throw a leg over the side of the ship and climb in, helped by a pair of crewmen. When Malfoy reaches the top of the ladder, the crewmen likewise help pull him over the edge and settle him on the deck.
We look over the edge to see if Marcus is coming up. He waves from the bow of the motorboat and shouts, "you guys have fun! I'll come back for you later!" With a nod to the driver, Marcus settles down into his seat and the motorboat speeds away.
One of the ship's crewmen steps forth. "If you'll follow me, lunch is ready."
He leads us around the side of the boat, back toward the stern. As we come around the edge of the cabin area, we're met with a lovely sight. A little table and two chairs in the middle of a wide expanse of deck, as if we were in a French bistro instead of on a schooner anchored off the coast of Unknown Island. The table is spread with a crisp checkered tablecloth, and on the table, a bottle of wine among the glasses, plates and silverware.
The crewman leads us to the table. He pulls out my chair for me, while a second crewman pulls out Malfoy's. We settle in and drape our napkins across our laps. As we wait for the food to arrive, I look around at the people assembled. Two cameramen, one man who I recognize as one of the "sound guys," our two crewmen-slash-waiters. But in a while, they'll all be leaving. I wonder how we'll be left alone. Will they leave the ship entirely? Or will they all assemble in some hidden part of the ship and wait there?
One of the crewmen comes out of the cabin area with a pair of green salads. He places one in front of each of us. I reach for my fork, only to discover an assortment of four forks next to my plate. My hand hovers over them for a moment. I'm not much of one for fancy restaurants, and in the Granger house, we only have one fork for dinner.
Malfoy sees my hesitation. "Start on the outside," he grins. "Work your way toward the plate." He picks up his outermost fork and stabs some leaves of lettuce, and I quickly follow suit.
As we munch on the salad, which is covered with a tart and tangy vinaigrette, one of our servers pours us each a tall glass of red wine and an even larger glass of ice water. I take a sip of the wine and discover that it's delicious.
Malfoy takes a sip of his wine. He smiles up at the man who just poured the glass. "Château Larmonde, if I'm not mistaken. Perhaps," he thinks for a moment, "1989?"
The crewman studies the bottle for a moment. "You're absolutely right, sir!"
The crewman seems amazed, and so am I. "So, Draco. You know about the wine, you know about multiple forks. Something of an upper crust fellow, are you?" I know he was raised rich, but I never knew quite how rich.
"You have no idea." He smiles at me. "But I was never rich; only my father. And unfortunately, he got in with the wrong crowd and managed to lose it all." His smile tightens when mentioning his father. I remember Lucius Malfoy from before the war, an intimidating figure who always managed to make me feel like something lower than dirt. Then again, that's how Malfoy treated me much of the time as well.
"That is a shame. It would be hard to have so much then lose it all."
"Not that it matters, in that he's dead now." Malfoy stabs into the last of his salad a little harder than normal.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. He wasn't a very nice man." He studies his plate for a moment, then looks back up at me. When his eyes meet mine, the expression softens considerably. "Let's not talk about him. Tell me something about yourself. What do you do for a living?"
"I work in a bank. Nothing glamorous, just some administrative work."
He winks at me. "And here I thought bankers were all surly little goblins."
"Well, sometimes it seems like my boss is, that's for sure." I suddenly realize that the poor man might someday watch this footage on television, and I seek out one of the cameras. "Sorry, Larry." I grin to the camera. "My brain's addled by the sun. You're a great boss."
Malfoy starts laughing so hard that he snorts.
Our salad plates are taken away, replaced by a plate filled with heaven. A large, tender-looking steak, mashed potatoes with lots of delicious lumps, and several kinds of vegetables. A basket containing warm sourdough rolls and butter is placed between us.
As we slowly stuff ourselves with food, we talk about lighter things. Malfoy tells me that he has a sister, Delia, three years older. "Of course, when I was born, I became the golden child. The magical son who will carry on his father's name. Delia and I aren't very close; I believe there's quite a bit of resentment there." He grins and takes another drink of wine. "She lives in California, married with two kids." In turn, I tell Malfoy about my parents.
We start discussing school in the most general of terms, mindful of the cameras. As the main course turns into dessert, I find myself describing to Malfoy how it felt to be looked down on for being different. "I didn't grow up like a lot of them did, and they really let me know. Even with my friends, I was frequently an outsider. But some of the others ... well, many of the nicknames were simply cruel."
Malfoy has the courtesy to look embarrassed. Then he tells me about his own schooling, and how horrible it was to have to spend time with people he didn't like, just because they were the kids of his father's friends. "Really, we had nothing in common. Except that our parents were members of the same exclusive club. And all they thought about was … well, they really didn't think about anything. They were too rich to have to think. Seems like such a waste."
We finish our meals and sit back in our chairs, a companionable silence between us. Despite all of our differences, we actually had similar situations back at Hogwarts; feelings of loneliness, feelings of separation. Feeling like you don't belong.
"Hermione," he says, breaking me from my reverie.
"What?"
He closes his eyes and leans back in his chair. "I may say indeed, thou art Hermione. Or rather, thou art she in thy not chiding, for she was as tender as infancy and grace."
I'll be dipped. Malfoy knows some Shakespeare.
"Whilst I remember her and her virtues, I cannot forget my blemishes in them, and so still think of the wrong I did myself; which was so much." He opens his eyes and smiles lazily at me.
My jaw drops. Malfoy has managed to take a line from The Winter's Tale, referring to the very character named Hermione, and make it fit our relationship perfectly.
"Strange, isn't it? My favorite of Shakespeare's plays, and it happens to contain your name." His smile twitches in amusement.
Did he read that play just because of my name? Hell, did he memorize passages of that play because of my name?
The last remains of our lunch are cleared away, and one of the crewmen escorts us on a tour around the ship. The cabins are luxuriously appointed; Malfoy and I are each assigned our own set of rooms. We each have a fresh change of clothes laid out on our beds, well-stocked bathrooms with fluffy white towels, and small refrigerators filled with cans of cola and snacks.
"I don't think I'll have enough room for dinner in a few hours, let alone a snack," I moan while rubbing my stomach.
The crewman smiles at me. "Nevertheless, miss, we have anything here you may desire."
I glance at Malfoy. Yes, it's true. They have everything here I desire.
With a glance at his watch, the crewman takes his leave. "You have free roam of the ship. The time is now 1:15pm. We'll be leaving at two." He strides up the hallway between the cabins and out the door at the end. Malfoy and I look at each other, then both speak.
"Well, I guess…"
"Why don't you…"
We stop and smile. Malfoy waves his hand at me to let me go first. "I was going to say, I guess I'm going to shower and get into those fresh clothes."
"I was going to suggest the same thing." He hesitates in the hall for a moment, then glances past me into my cabin. "Hey, I wonder if your shower has hotter water than mine."
I push him toward his own door. "Nice try, Romeo. See you in 45 minutes."
* * * * * * * * * *
After a hot shower, complete with lathering, rinsing and repeating with an amazing herbal shampoo, I feel nearly human again. I bring my bikini top into the shower with me and surreptitiously whisper a cleaning spell on it. After toweling myself off and hanging my wand/bikini top over the top of the shower stall to dry, I move into the bedroom of the cabin and take stock of my clothes. Besides clean underwear, they've left me my comfy khaki pants, a stretchy tank top and a button-front sleeveless blouse. They've even been kind enough to leave me a fresh pair of socks.
I forego footwear for the time being, padding around on the plush carpeting in my bare feet. Compared to the sand of our beach, it's like walking on a cloud. Dressed, I flop back onto the bed to see how comfortable it is.
Obviously too comfortable. I'm jerked out of a light sleep by a knocking on my cabin door. I rub my eyes and pad across the cabin. Opening the door, I find one of the crewmen waiting outside.
"It's two o'clock now, miss. We'll be going. You're welcome to come up on deck and watch us leave."
I follow him to the end of the hallway and out onto the deck of the ship. Malfoy is already there, looking incredible in khaki shorts and an unbuttoned white shirt. Like me, he's barefoot. His skin is fairly glowing, freshly cleaned and golden tan. His blond hair almost sparkles in the sunlight, it's so shiny. The sides of his shirt are flapping gently in the breeze, making shadows play across his muscular bared chest.
Nobody can deny it, the man is absolutely gorgeous.
Meanwhile, Malfoy is looking at me like I'm a painting in the Louvre. Which I don't get, since my still-damp hair is flying every which way in the breeze. Not to mention the fact that I am, after all, just me. He comes over and takes my hand. We stroll over to the side of the ship, where the two crewmen are climbing down the familiar rope ladder into another motorboat. Our two cameramen are already down there, as is our sound guy.
One crewman shouts up, "we'll be back at five o'clock. There are clocks in all of the cabins. The pilothouse is locked, but the rest of the ship is all yours. Have a good time!"
The cameramen keep their lenses on us as the motorboat starts up and pulls away. Malfoy and I both automatically wave at them.
We step back toward the middle of the ship, so we can no longer see the receding boat. I turn to Malfoy, opening my mouth to speak. He's already looking at me. He reaches one hand up, wraps it around the back of my neck, and gently pulls my head to his. The kiss is at the same time tender and passionate, and it leaves me feeling a little weak in the knees. I hold onto his arm with one hand, his waist with the other. His free hand is making its way around my back, pulling me closer to him.
Much as I'm enjoying this, I pull away. "Draco, we should check to see if we're actually, truly alone on this ship."
He nods. "Would you like the searching honors?" He runs his fingers along my cheek.
I pull myself away from him and return to my cabin. Taking my bikini top down from the shower stall, I whisper a drying spell on it and cast a charm searching for any Muggle electronic recording devices. My cabin is clean. I spread the range of my spell, searching for any electrics of any kind on the ship. I sense the radio turned on up in the pilothouse and little else. Then I change the spell over to one searching for humans. The only one I can find is Malfoy, out on the deck.
I slip out of my shirt and tank top, put my wand bikini back on, and redress. I hurry back out to the deck, where I find Malfoy seated at the little bistro table where we ate lunch.
"All clear. Nobody aboard but us, and no cameras to be found."
Malfoy looks up at me silently. In my absence, he's managed to either summon or create a pen and paper, and has written three lines. He holds the sheet out to me.
"There's so much to explain, but we should probably start with this."
I take the page from him and give him a puzzled look. He nods toward the paper, so I read the three lines.
I hope this letter finds you well.
There is much to explain. Given time, all will be told.
I look forward to seeing the end.
That handwriting. And that last line. Malfoy said it to me one day during the game. And he said it to me in my dream. But it took seeing it written in his handwriting for me to realize the significance.
I look up at him in amazement. "By the Gods, Draco ... it was you?"