Sole Survivor

Night Thirty-Eight

The hissing sound fades, and the ambient light around us quickly disappears. Without the moon in the sky, it's suddenly very dark around us. My first instinct is to stand up, but Malfoy grips my hands as I try to rise. He looks quickly left and right, then moves his head next to mine.

"We're still connected, so nobody can hear us. As soon as I break this spell, I want you to sneak down to the ocean and get in the water as quietly as possible. Get down low, so you'll be hard to see."

"What are you going to do?" Despite being under a spell where nobody else can hear me, I still whisper the question.

"I'm going to sneak up to the treeline, then make my way around the campsite. Ready?"

I give his hand a squeeze in assent. Malfoy mutters a spell to release our voices, and he lets go of my hands. I immediately jump up and turn to face our campsite, so that I can see whoever doused the fire and presumably knocked out the cameraman. Slowly, I back toward the water. I see Malfoy's shadowy form dash up toward the trees, and quickly lose sight of him in the darkness.

I hasten my steps, and walk into the water as quietly as I can. I don't move very far out, just enough so I can drop to my knees and squat down, keeping only my head above the surface. The campsite is shrouded in darkness – I can barely make out the shelter, and I can't see any movement.

I stay there, nearly submerged in the cool ocean, for what feels like an eternity. I nervously scan the dark ground in front of me. As the initial panic starts to wear off, I realize that my fist is clenched around a small, sharp object. I bring my hands together under the water, and feel Malfoy's makeshift ring in my hand. I quietly slide it onto my right hand ring finger for safekeeping – I'm still not sure I'm ready for it to go on my left hand. I also quietly transfigure my wand back to its normal state, and clench it in my hand instead.

I jump, startled, when I hear the distant voice. "Helloooo," calls a man's voice in a falsely high-pitched tone. "Anybody hooooooome?" I try to watch as much of the beach as I can, but don't see any movement. All I can tell is that the voice is coming from the land, but I can't tell from which direction.

"Draaaaaaco!" The voice echoes over the water, drawing the vowels out. "Hermiiiiioneeeee! Don't worry kids, it's just us! I've taken care of everyone else!"

The sharp, mocking tone is all too familiar. No wonder Marcus and the production staff were acting so nervous – Pete wasn't suffering from any surprise illness. Most likely, Pete disappeared from wherever the losing players were sequestered. And now Pete is here, chock full of his crazy rage, having done who knows what to all of the crew members surrounding our camp.

"Oh, you little lovebirds, I know you're out here somewhere!" Pete's voice carries clearly over the water to me, but I still can't see any movement around camp, and I can't pinpoint his location. "Although, Draco, I can't see why you'd muddy yourself up with someone like Hermione!"

Muddy yourself up? I furrow my brow, thinking about the odd choice of words. Since I've never gotten a whiff of any kind of magic from Pete, there's no way he could be a wizard. But the choice of "muddy" as an insult instantly has my hackles raised.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a shadow move in the trees off to my left. I squint at the area and point my wand at the spot where I saw motion, but everything is still again. And even if that moving shadow were an actual person, I have no way of knowing if it's Malfoy or Pete. All I know is that as long as Pete is taunting, he hasn't found Malfoy yet. And that the water is cold, and my legs are starting to cramp up.

A bright orange light flashes in the trees, and I jump again. Draco must have caught sight of Pete and cast a hex at him. I hope for a brief moment that the Pete problem is finished quickly, but my hopes are dashed when Pete starts to laugh. No surprise, no shout wondering what that crazy light was; nothing but a low, menacing chuckle.

"Oh, you crazy kids! Finally pulling out the big guns, are we?" Another bolt of light, this one a deep red, shoots upward through the trees, followed by the cracking sound of tree branches breaking. There's a quiet pause, then Pete's low, mocking laughter resumes.

"Thank you!" Pete's voice calls out. "Now we can be out in the open about your filthy cheating!"

I still see nothing moving, but both bolts of light came from the jungle. I have my wand in my hand, and I know how to use it – there's no sense in me staying out here in the cold water. I slowly crawl back onto the beach, staying as low as possible and scanning the trees. I continue crawling toward the shelter, faster now that I can be seen against the pale beach. I ignore the scraping my hands and knees are taking from the sand, and quietly climb into the shelter. I'm now much closer to the trees, and Pete's voice is even louder.

"Really, Draco," he calls out, "your family would be so ashamed! I mean, come on! Hermione Granger? What would Luuuuucius think?"

My blood runs cold at hearing that name, with the vowel drawn out in a long and mocking singsong tone. What the hell is going on here? How does Pete know that name? A hundred questions swirl around in my head, but I have to brush the confusion away and concentrate on scanning the jungle for movement. Another flash of red light off to my right, too deep into the trees for me to pinpoint Malfoy's location, but at least I know his general direction.

Then, silence. I can't see any motion, and either Pete was hit by the last spell, or he's intentionally staying silent. I want to call out, but the more sensible side of my brain is screaming about what a mistake that would be. Better to sit still and wait; if Malfoy hit Pete, he should be coming back to the beach shortly. So I sit. And wait.

Long minutes pass, and Malfoy doesn't come out of the jungle. And suddenly, I get the thought that inside the shelter is a very bad place to be. I have no idea why, but I've learned to trust my instincts. I slowly creep out of the shelter on the water side, then look around for another place to hide. The floor of the shelter sits about a foot off the ground, since we built it above the sand to keep rats and crabs and any other nocturnal animals from coming in while we slept. I quickly flatten myself to the ground and crawl underneath the shelter, then wriggle around and reach out my hand to brush sand over any marks I might have left while crawling in.

It's a tight fit, but I have a little bit of room to maneuver underneath the shelter. I work my way over to the jungle side, and scan the trees again for any signs of movement. I turn my head right and look around, seeing nothing. I flip my head over to the left, the side closer to the trees, just in time to see a shadowy pair of bare feet coming toward me and the shelter. I mange to keep from gasping in surprise, and angle my wand toward the feet. I have no idea which man this is, as Malfoy might have taken off his shoes to improve his stealth. The feet make a slow circle of the shelter, then I hear a soft creaking as whoever it is steps up onto the bamboo floor. I feel a light dusting of sand fall on my back as the person moves quietly around in the shelter above me.

I don't know what to do. If it's Malfoy, I don't want to startle him into cursing me. If it's Pete, I don't want him to know I'm here. So I keep silent and watch the trees, but I stay very aware of the mystery person above me.

After a few more minutes, I see a shadowy figure near the edge of the treeline. All I can see are the bottom edges of a dark pair of shorts, and legs from the knees down. This second man is barefoot too, so they've both been sneaking around without shoes. He moves slowly and cautiously toward the shelter – I don't know if he knows the other man is inside, or if he wants to use the shelter as his own hiding place. More sand shifts down onto my back as the person above me changes position. Has he seen the second man? Who is who? Maybe I should just curse them both and sort it out afterward. I consider this plan of action, and it actually seems pretty sound. I wriggle around under the shelter as quietly as possible, trying to get into a good position to aim my wand at the man outside the shelter. His slow steps have brought him close to where both I and the man above me are hiding.

Just when I think I have the angle right to get them both at once with the same spell, the bamboo above me creaks. The man hiding in the shelter jumps out and tackles the man outside. Two shadowy figures roll together on the sand, and I can hear the heavy thudding sound of fists hitting flesh. The men untangle and get to their feet, and once again all I can see are two pairs of bare legs and feet standing in front of the shelter. They're about six feet apart, slowly circling each other.

"You son of a bitch," mutters Malfoy softly.

"On the contrary, Draco. My mother was a wonderful woman." Pete laughs menacingly. "What a nice wand you have here. I don't get to hold them very often, but I do know how to dispose of them." I hear a sharp crack, then I see the two pieces of Malfoy's broken wand tossed near the shelter, near me. The men continue to circle each other slowly.

"Accio wand," I whisper, and the two broken pieces slide quietly under the shelter to me. Even if I could repair a wand with a simple Reparo spell, both men would see the flash of light. The important thing is, Pete can't use Malfoy's wand against him, so I'm currently the person with the most power on this beach. And since Malfoy hasn't been knocked out or anything, I'm willing to sit tight and listen until I need to step in.

"Funny that you would bring up my mother, though, Malfoy," says Pete. "A great woman, pure of blood, cut down in her prime. She was killed, you know. By a traitorous scumbag."

"How the hell would I know your mother?"

Pete laughs again. "Of course, you still haven't figured out who I am. Then again, you haven't seen me since you were what, nine years old? I can't really blame you."

"I don't know who the hell you are, Pete," Malfoy growls. "But wand or no wand, you're still going to get your ass kicked."

"Oh, I doubt it," laughs Pete. "A soft, spongy Malfoy? And one without a wand at that! The only way you know how to fight is with your little spells. You can't even keep your wand away from a Squib! What kind of an example of a pureblood are you?"

"Who the hell are you?"

"Interesting, how your little Mudblood whore hasn't come out to save your sorry ass." Pete snorts with amusement. "But that's all right. I'll take care of her later. After all, you're the one I'm really after here."

One of the men darts toward the other, who backs off nimbly. The bare feet go back to circling each other.

"Nice try, Malfoy. But while you were learning to swish your little wand around, I had to learn how to take care of myself in more physical ways."

One man suddenly runs toward the other, and I can once again hear the disturbing dull thumping sound of men punching each other. The two get close together in a wrestling position, and all I can see is a tangle of four feet near each other. Then I hear Malfoy grunt, and he hits the ground in front of me. He looks directly under the shelter, and I can see the shock in his eyes to see me there. His cheek is cut, and there's a small trickle of blood making its way down his face.

"Come on, Malfoy! This is hardly satisfying for me! Fight a little harder!"

I hold my wand up and look at Malfoy with questioning eyes, but he shakes his head and darts his eyes back toward Pete. He then flips over and gets back to his feet. The two men go back to circling each other.

"So I obviously don't remember you, Pete. Why don't you fill me in?"

Pete is quiet for a moment, as they circle each other. "Yeah, Malfoy. You should definitely know why I'm going to kill you. And why I worked so hard to get onto this disgusting hellhole of an island. I'll tell you why. Because for the last six months, my one goal in this world has been to find and kill the dirty traitor who murdered my entire family."

Malfoy voices the question that's in my head. "What are you talking about?"

Pete's voice starts to rise in volume with his rant. "Oh, pureblood families may send their Squibs away, but I was still very close to my family. And everything they believed in. And when my baby sister was going to get married, I couldn't wait to hear all about it. But what did I hear the next day? That she and my parents had been killed by the bastard traitor she was about to marry!" Pete's voice is full of fury and anger and hate, at top volume. "You tore away my family, my Lord, and everything I had in this world! And here you are, slumming around with your little Mudblood bitch, happy as a clam, when you deserve to DIE!"

His final word echoes softly around the campsite, and is followed by a long pause.

"Simon?" Malfoy asks with amazement.

"Oh, so smart, Draco! At least you know the name of the man who's about to kill you!"

Draco backs away slowly, leading Pete-Simon-whoever away from the shelter. I take that as my cue and slowly inch my way forward, so I can get a full view of both of them. I get my head and wand arm out from under the shelter, into the clear. Malfoy glances at me, then at the thick, dark jungle to his left. He looks back at his opponent, then feigns a double-take toward the trees.

"Hermione! Now!" Malfoy shouts at the trees, and Pete-Simon-whoever turns his head sharply to look at the trees. It gives me a perfect shot at his broad back.

"Petrificus Totalus!" I yell, hitting my target square in the back. He stiffens and falls over immediately. I quickly squirm out from under the shelter and run to Malfoy's side. He's already pushing the petrified body in front of him over with his foot, rolling Pete to his back. I grab Malfoy's arm to make sure he doesn't do anything rash, but there doesn't seem to be any fight left in him. I hand him the two broken pieces of his wand, and hear him sigh. I can't see his eyes in the darkness, so I have no idea what he's feeling.

"Hermione, you're going to have to do all of the wand work from now on," he says. I step over to the man I knew as Pete and conjure up ropes, binding his body almost as completely as my spell. Then I release the petrifying spell. He starts to struggle almost immediately, but can't make any headway against the ropes.

Malfoy grabs the ropes near Pete's head and starts to drag him toward the campsite's fire pit.

"Malfoy, um, do you want me to …" I start, ready to offer a quick Mobilocorpus spell to move Pete. He shakes his head.

"No, that's all right, I have him. If you would, I'd like you to get the fire going again."

At this point, there doesn't seem to be a reason to do this the hard way. Using my wand, I clear out the soaked and charred wood from the fire pit, and move dry wood into place. Another quick spell and the logs start burning, and we finally have some light in the area again.

With a grunt, Malfoy shoves Pete into a near-sitting position near the fire. He brushes sand off his hands, then turns to me. He reaches out to take my hand and leads me a short way down the beach. We can still see Pete clearly by the fire, but he can't hear us from here.

"I'm going to look around a little bit, and try to see what he did to the crew," he says.

"Malfoy, wait … who the hell is he?"

"His name is Simon Parkinson. He is … was …" Malfoy sighs again, not knowing how to phrase it. "He's Pansy's older brother."

Despite this answer fitting perfectly with what I'd heard Pete say earlier, it's still almost too amazing to believe. I don't know which question to ask first, so they all come out together. "I … but he … did he …"

Malfoy squeezes my hand. "At this point, you know about as much as I know. In a moment, I'll try to ask him some questions, though I'm not sure he'll be all that willing to answer. But right now I'm going to check and see if I can find any of the crew members. I need you to keep your eye and your wand on him, to make sure he doesn't try anything."

I nod, and Malfoy sprints down the beach in the general direction of the cameraman who'd been filming us right before things got weird. I walk slowly toward Pete, keeping my wand pointed at him, and sit down across the fire. He's glaring at me, but still not saying anything.

I move my wand to my left hand as I watch him, and nervously fiddle with the makeshift ring on my right hand. The silence is killing me, and I have tons of questions.

"So … Simon, huh?"

He squints his eyes even further down, intensifying his glare. I can see him suck in his cheeks, then his whole body heaves as he tries to spit on me. The spit doesn't even make it close, instead falling into the fire with a quick sizzle. "Filthy Mudblood."

"Excuse me? What was that?"

"You heard me, filthy Mudblood." He wrinkles his nose in a sneer. "These Muggles, they're just stupid. But you Mudbloods … how DARE you try to take what's rightfully ours." He shifts around as well as he can, fully bound as he is.

His words spark a special anger I haven't had to tap into for quite a few years. "Oh, right. Right, how dare I be born different from the other Muggles. Right. I'm so scared, SIMON. What's a sorry, talentless, impotent little SQUIB like you going to do to me?"

He thrashes around for a few moments, then glares back up at me. "I will KILL you," he growls.

I hear a rustling in the trees, and whip around with my wand out. But it's just Malfoy.

"I found three of them, all unconscious but still alive." Malfoy shakes his head. "I didn't try to wake any of them up, so we could have a talk with Simon here."

"Oh, we've been talking a little bit already." I sit back down opposite our captive. "And let's just say he isn't terribly complimentary of me."

Malfoy sits down next to me, his eyes on the bound man across from us. "How did you find me?"

Simon sneers, but surprises me by answering. "It wasn't hard to find where you were hiding. Despite the Dark Lord's death, the Death Eaters are still a force to be reckoned with. And when I found out you were coming here, I couldn't resist having some friends help me get on the show. Killing you will be a pleasure, but the thought of killing you after beating you for the million was even better."

Malfoy snorts. "Well, you certainly haven't beat me for the million. And right now, it looks like you won't be killing me anytime soon."

Despite being tied up, Simon sits straight with the haughty posture of a pureblood. "Granted, I've had to change my plans and improvise lately." He glares at me. "I originally thought I could get on the Mudblood's good side, and that she'd actually help me bring you down. Of course, once I realized where her loyalties were, there was no need to pretend to be nice anymore. Little did I know that she'd spread her legs for you the instant the tribes merged."

The words are barely out of his mouth when Malfoy leaps up next to me, takes two quick steps and punches Simon square in the face. Tied up, Simon immediately falls backward onto the sand. Malfoy lunges toward him again, but I jump up and grab his arm.

"Draco. He's not worth it."

Malfoy looks at me for a long moment, reflections of the firelight flickering in his eyes. Then his shoulders sag a tiny bit, and he sighs.

Simon starts his deranged chuckling again. "Man," he mutters, "she really has you whipped."

I walk over and look down at him. Malfoy's punch was definitely solid, judging from the trickle of blood coming out of Simon's nose. He looks up at me with a malicious smile.

"Shut up," I tell him. "Just shut up."

"Good idea, Mudblood." He grins, and I can see blood on his teeth. "This little question and answer session was growing tiresome." He purses his lips together and still manages a sneer.

Malfoy hoists him back up into a sitting position and tries to continue the interrogation. "Who else knows I'm here?"

The only response is a menacing smile. Malfoy tries more questions for a few minutes, but is met with nothing but derisive facial expressions and silence. Finally, Malfoy sighs and runs a hand through his hair in frustration. He looks over at me, and I reach out to take his hand and pull him back down the beach so we can talk. Once we're far enough away so that our captive can't hear us, we both turn to keep an eye on him.

"Draco, I don't think he's going to talk anymore. And since we don't have any Veritaserum on hand, and I don't know any interrogation spells, there's really nothing we can do to force him."

"I know. It's just so incredibly frustrating. I need to find out who else knows I'm here." He takes my hand in his. "I don't want you to be in any danger because of me."

"Look," I say, "besides the fact that it sounds like he's working on a personal vendetta, the only thing we can do right now is deal with him. And as I'm the only one with a working wand, it's going to be me who does the dealing. And although I know it would be the most effective thing, I … I just don't think I have it in me to kill him."

Malfoy looks at me with a look of shock. "Hermione, I would never ask you to do that!"

I give him a smile and squeeze his hand. "I know. But as a Gryffindor, I have to logically consider every option, and that definitely falls under the category of 'options'."

He squeezes my hand back, but shakes his head sadly. "I just wish you didn't have to be involved in this. He came here for me, he should be my problem. I'm sorry."

"Look, Draco Malfoy – since we don't know how long we have until those guys out in the bushes wake up, I don't have nearly enough time to detail what an idiot you're being … but later on, I'd be glad to debate with you. Let's just say that right now, your problems are my problems. And the most important thing right now is to figure out the rest of our options."

Another sigh. "All right, let's see. We can leave him tied up and hide him somewhere, since after tomorrow we're out of here. But there's always the chance he could be found."

"Not to mention, the crew is certain to be looking around everywhere, especially since he assaulted several of them."

"Right. We could Oblivate him again, but of course, that means he'll still have an incredible passion to destroy me. But we can keep him tied up and knocked out until someone comes, and they'll be sure to lock him up somewhere."

I tap my wand against my chin. "Imperius is out, as it's Unforgivable. And though I could transfigure him into an animal or something, I'm not terribly fond of the idea."

"Even, say, a fluffy white ferret?"

He grins at me, and I can't help but smile back. "I think our best option is the three-pronged approach. Oblivate him, knock him out, and tie him up with something a little more believable, like the fishing net. The crew can lock him up somewhere, and when we get back home, we can have Harry or someone track him down."

We finalize the plan, then head back to the fire. Simon is still sitting there, staring at us defiantly, his lips pursed tightly together. I raise my wand, take a deep breath, and start to erase his memories. The work doesn't take long, and as I carefully eliminate the evidence of our confrontation from Simon's mind, Malfoy gathers up the fishing net and any excess rope he can find around the camp.

While Simon is still dazed from my spell, Malfoy hits him with two carefully aimed punches, explaining to me that the one on the cheekbone will create a dazzling black eye, and the other hit to the chest will not only bruise, but also make it temporarily hard for Simon to breathe, which will help justify his eventual unconsciousness.

"That felt good." Malfoy shakes his hand out to alleviate the soreness. I raise my wand and finish my work, putting the already near-unconscious Simon Parkinson into an uneasy sleep. Together we wrap him up in the fishing net. I release the magical ropes that had bound him, and we re-bind him with the ordinary ropes from the campsite.

Malfoy watches over Simon's unconscious form while I perform my final task – I run down the beach to the unconscious cameraman and pick up his walkie-talkie.

"Hello, anyone? This is Hermione. We've … had a bit of a problem here."

After a quick discussion with Larry back at the production camp, in which I can hear the stress in his voice, I'm assured that help is on its way. I gently put the walkie-talkie back, make sure our cameraman friend is still breathing, and walk back to camp.

"They're on their way," I tell Malfoy.

We quietly sit by the fire, holding hands, watching the unconscious Simon Parkinson, and wait.