Chapter 2

Hermione woke up the next morning feeling very comfortable indeed. It took her a moment to recognize the reason; Malfoy had his arms wrapped around her. Even though the thought was undeniably odd, Hermione made no move to leave or shy away, she just snuggled back into the warmth and strength of his arms. She lay there for a couple of minutes until she felt Malfoy stirring. She quickly pretended to be asleep so that he wouldn't get the wrong idea; he would never let her live it down.

Malfoy tightened his hold on her slightly, also making no move to leave the snug overhang so soon. By the light streaming underneath, Hermione could tell that it was still early in the morning, just past dawn if she had to guess. Eventually, Malfoy propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at her seemingly sleeping form. 'She looks so beautiful when she sleeps,' he thought dreamily. 'Like an angel.'

'Good morning, Hermione,' he whispered, lowering his face to hers. Hermione felt his warm breath on her ear and shivered slightly. She let out a long, fake moan and sat up, rubbing her eyes. 'I said 'Good morning, Hermione',' he said somewhat louder, in a very falsely cheery voice. Hermione laughed and looked up into his big, exaggerated smile.

'Good morning, Draco,' she said back, imitating his voice. He laughed as well and smiled at her.

'Well, you're the expert,' Draco said, gesturing to her. 'What do we do now?' Hermione considered his question for a moment and then glanced around their makeshift campsite. It was a large meadow, grassy for the most part but fading to pure white sand at the shore of the small sparkling stream. There were many different types of trees and shrubs that Hermione recognized, including palm, banana and cocoanut trees, and many she didn't. She glanced at the sky, which was mostly clear with a few dark but scattered clouds to the east, moving steadily toward them.

'First we need to check the fire and gather more firewood,' she said standing up and stretching, pulling Draco with her. 'Then we need more food and then we need a shelter.'

'What's wrong with the rock?' Draco asked, annoyed at having to do more work to make a shelter when one perfectly serviceable one was readily at hand.

'Draco, do you see those clouds gathering in the east?' she asked, turning him to look and pointing at them. He nodded. 'Well, those have water in them which means that it will rain. A stone outcrop does not offer much protection from water. We need to protect the fire most of all or we'll have to make a whole other one and that would take too much valuable time. I'm not saying we build a house, or anything, just weave a panel to cover the entrance to the overhang to keep the water and wind out. Kay?'

Draco pondered this for a while and finally nodded, admitting that Hermione had logic in her way of thinking. 'I don't know how to weave anything, Hermione,' he confessed, shrugging and looking thoroughly confused.

'You don't have to,' Hermione said, walking over to the willow tree and pulling off thin branches. 'I know how so I'll make this while you find more fire wood and gather as much fruit as you know what they are.' Draco nodded, helped her break a particularly stubborn branch and went to follow her instructions.

Draco walked at a leisurely pace through the thick tropical forest, picking up as much dry branches and twigs as he could carry. Every time his arms got too full, he would go back to camp and dump the load and then head off in another direction to collect more. After an hour or so, he had collected a pile about five feet across and four feet high; enough to last them for at least a week or two.

Draco noticed his stomach beginning to growl so he picked up one of the severed pieces of his robe they had cut off the night before and used it as a basket to carry fruit. He glanced around, scrutinizing the trees to find recognizable plants and food products. He detected bananas, cocoanuts and what he thought were papayas. He accumulated as much as he could fit into his makeshift bag, a surprisingly large amount, and went back to the campsite.

The man carefully placed the fruit under the overhang, out of the sun, and sat in front of Hermione, watching her fingers weaving the willow withes with speed and efficiency. The weave was tight, probably waterproof, he thought, and large, approaching six feet in length and a steady three feet in width. That made Draco realize how long he had been gone. He glanced up at the sky, noting the placement of the clouds and the position of the blazing sun. 'It must be nearly noon,' he mused.

'Draco, could you wash some of those papayas and a banana each in the stream for lunch please?' Hermione asked, not once looking up from her work. Draco jumped, but nodded and picked up two papayas and two bananas from his bag.

He knelt by the clear stream and dipped the fruit one by one into the swift current. He rubbed them in the water until they were dirt-free and squeaky clean. Then, he carried them back and laid them in front of Hermione, awaiting approval. Hermione smiled at him and nodded before turning back to her weaving.

Soon enough, Hermione tied the last knot and placed down the large mat she had woven, stretching her fingers and wincing. 'They're a little stiff,' she informed Draco. 'Two and a half hours of weaving stiff branches really takes a lot out of them. I'm going to go wash my hands and then start lunch. It's about one-ish, I think,' she said, getting up and stretching.

Draco watched Hermione surreptitiously as she walked to the stream. He couldn't help himself when she bent down to wash her hands. He felt the heat rise in his neck and face so he averted his eyes, looking carefully at the mat Hermione had woven. It was definitely of the top quality. He picked it up gingerly, finding it pleasantly lightweight but sturdy. He placed it in front of outcrop, noticing that it was exactly the right size to wedge inside the hole tight enough not to be blown in by wind but loose enough to come out with a push from inside. It was perfect.

Hermione returned shortly, beaming at the obvious impression her weaving had made on the blonde boy. She placed a hand on his shoulder saying, 'Like it? It fits well. It will be completely serviceable.' Draco nodded, smiling back at her. Instinctively, he reached up and placed his hand on top of Hermione's. She was surprised, to say the least, but she didn't move his hand or her own.

They stood their comfortably for a moment or two, basking in the glow of a job well-done. They had a shelter and a fire and they knew how and where to get food and water. Suddenly Hermione jumped up and ran toward the stream.

'Hermione, what's up?' Draco asked, following her out of curiosity. Hermione was scooping out handfuls of mud from the riverbed. 'Why do you need mud?' Draco inquired, looking very confused. Why did they need mud? Hermione motioned for him to look at the sky to the east.

'The clouds are still far enough away to give us about three more hours of good sunlight,' she explained. 'That means we have enough time to truly waterproof our shelter. You don't want to get too wet out here, do you?' Draco shook his head.

'That still doesn't explain the mud,' he said, gesturing to her handful of muck. Hermione rolled her eyes.

'This isn't mud. It's clay,' she stated, as if it was obviously. 'If we spread this clay in an even layer over the mat, it will dry to a hard, waterproof covering that will both keep us dry, repel wind and sun, and make it last longer,' she explained. Draco smiled.

'Hermione, you are brilliant,' he said and it was sincere. Hermione blushed at his praise and hurried to start applying the clay, muttering something about wasting time. Draco smiled at her, grabbing a handful of the sticky, reddish goop and began to smear it on the mat as well.

The two new friends worked in companionable silence until the entire three by six rectangle of weave were covered with a thin layer of clay and was beginning to dry. Hermione sat back on her haunches, wiping the back of her sticky hand across her forehead in weariness, leaving a streak of the sticky clay on her face that made Malfoy chuckle.

'Well, we sure don't have to worry about getting out of shape,' she sighed, exhausted. Draco laughed and looked down at his hands. This was the dirtiest he had ever been, he was sure. The thought brought another chuckle to his throat and Hermione looked at him curiously.

'You know something really pitiful?' he asked.

'Yes, I know something really pitiful, but were you planning on telling me something in particular?' Hermione asked, smiling innocently. Draco looked at her incredulously and Hermione burst out laughing. 'Sorry, that's just something my dad used to do a lot. Whenever you would ask a question like that, you know, to lead into something you wanted to tell him, he would say something weird like that,' she explained.

'Okay then,' Draco said sniggered.

'Ooh, say 'guess what,' Hermione instructed. When he looked confused, she elaborated. 'It's something else my dad used to do. I just want to show you.' He nodded.

'Guess what?' he said, looking at her warily. Hermione was trying to stifle her giggles, very unsuccessfully.

'Okay, I'll play your silly little game. What?' she said with feigned interest. Then, at the exact same time, Draco and Hermione both started to laugh. When they had finally stopped, Hermione looked at the sky and gasped. Draco looked up and saw that the clouds, heavy and dark, were almost on top of them.

'We really, really need to get the fire and food in the shelter before it rains,' Hermione said, scrambling to her feet and snatching up the food. 'How are we going to get the fire in there?'

'Hermione, calm down,' Draco said soothingly. 'Just get some more bark and twigs, like we were going to start a new one, and put them in the shelter. We get a stick burning on one end and then can start a new one in there from that stick. The real problem is the fire wood. It won't burn if it's wet, will it?' he pointed out, concernedly.

Hermione shook her head and went off to get the tinder. Draco looked at the huge pile of dry wood they had accumulated and sighed. There was no way to fit it all in the shelter and he had no way to cover them. Or did her? Draco hit his palm on his forehead. How could he have been so stupid. He was a wizard, wasn't he? He pulled his wand out, pointed it at the pile of wood and said clearly, 'Impervious,' a faint blue light was emitted from his wand and transferred to the wood. It died down and Draco smiled.

Hermione returned with a pile of bark and such and placed it in a small clump in the shelter. She hurriedly grabbed a small burning stick from the fire and added it to the tinder, adding gradually larger wood until she had a good sized fire going. Then she came to stand beside him, looking worried.

'Did you figure something else out?' she asked anxiously. He nodded then looked over at the woven mat covering the entrance to their makeshift shelter. 'You know, the same simple spell would have worked on that thing, too, instead of the mud, the clay,' he said, feeling a bit stupid for not having thought of it before they wasted all that time.

'What spell did you use?' she reiterated.

'Impervious,' he said, turning to go back to the shelter with an armful of wood for the new fire. 'Water just slides off. When we take the spell off, it will be completely dry. See what I mean? We could have done the same thing instead of doing all this clay stuff.' Hermione nodded, following him under the outcrop.

'Omigod, I am starving,' Hermione moaned, flopping down on her palm frond mattress. 'Where are those fruits you washed for lunch?' Draco fetched them from outside and handed them to Hermione. 'Oh, I wish I had a knife or something,' she complained but she just took out her wand, aimed carefully at one of the papayas, and said, 'Diffindo.'

It split cleanly into quarters and she placed it on the flat rock she had used to cook the carrots the day before. She repeated the process on the other papaya and then handed one banana to Draco and took the other for herself. They ate the bananas while they waited for the papayas to cook through. They were sweet, not quite ripe, but they still tasted good. Hermione pulled the papayas away from the fire to allow them to cool after about ten minutes.

'They smell delicious,' Draco commented, his mouth watering and his stomach grumbling. Hermione licked her lips and nodded, looking around for something to use as plates. 'We don't need to put them on anything, Hermione, just eat them here.' Hermione glanced around once more and then, finding nothing plate-like, shrugged and picked up one of the succulent, juicy pieces of fruit with her fingers.

Draco also picked one up and put it in his mouth, relishing the taste as the juices trickled down his chin. He wiped them away with the pack of his sleeve. They ate their way through the other slices and then they just sat around the fire. The rain had started and the pitter-patter of the drops on the mat was a soothing lullaby. No one said anything. No one had anything to say.

Hermione stared into the fire, her knees drawn up to her chest with her arms wrapped around then and he chin resting on her arms. She glanced over to Draco. He was sitting cross-legged, his elbows on his knees and his fingers fiddling absentmindedly with a hole in his severed robes, also enraptured by the flickering flames. He's perfect, she thought. Then she shoved the thought out of her head. She wasn't supposed to think about him like that. But, of course, how could she not?

Draco had certainly matured from their first year. He had started out as a pale, angular and prissy little child but now he was nearly a man. His body had been tanned and sculpted from his five years on the Quidditch team, not quite so pale. It hung naturally in his face now. He had grown to be quite tall, nearly six three, and he had filled out in the chest a bit. It's not like he was a body builder, or anything, but Hermione preferred the flat, wiry muscles to the big bulging ones. He was definitely a well built young man.

Draco's features were soft, his fair blonde hair often falling in his face. He once admitted that he used to use hair gel but he had, thankfully, abandoned that look years ago. But they best part were those eyes. His eyes were a beautiful compelling shade that could take on so many hues. In the sunlight it looked nearly crystal blue, sparkling and clear, but in the shimmering firelight it looked like an arcane iron grey.

But she often saw another shade and she wasn't sure what it indicated. Sometimes, when he looked at her, his eyes took on a cobalt hue, deep, infinite and shrouded in mystery. She could stare into those dark eyes for hours and still not know what that shade meant and she wasn't all that sure she wanted to know.

Hermione sighed and, realizing that she had been staring at Draco, blushed and looked back into the heart of the fire and she quickly became spellbound by the flickering light and warmth, leaping higher, tongues of flame licking over and around each individual branch, all striving for something out of their reach. They cast restless shadows on the stone walls, reflecting themselves in Hermione's warm, honey-colored eyes.

Draco crossed his legs, resting his elbows on them. He gazed into the fire, watching the flames meld together, slowly devouring each and every bit of the logs and branches that they could reach. They clamored and fought each other, with one tall tongue of flame eventually winning out, surpassing all the rest and disappearing into the night. He heard the girl across from him sigh. He glanced up and did a double-take.

Hermione was sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them and her chin resting on her arms. He took a moment to study her, and he noticed that she certainly had matured since the first time he had seen her. She was no longer the bossy, buck-toothed know-it-all little girl he had met. Now she was a beautiful, bright and intuitive young woman.

Hermione had filled out with curves in all the right places. She wasn't too tall, but she wasn't short either, at about five seven. She had long, legs to full hips, a taught stomach to sizable breasts, slim shoulders and a long neck. Her face was utterly beautiful. Her features were refined, full lips and a small, dainty nose, slightly upturned. Her eyes, her captivating eyes, were rimmed with long, thick lashes. Her hair was no longer frizzy or bushy, but sleek and shiny, falling in gentle curls to mid back.

But Draco's gaze lingered on her eyes. They could appear as a range of colors depending on her mood and surroundings. Her eyes outside in the sunlight were a pale, iridescent amber, but in the firelight, her eyes darkened to an intense chocolate brown. But sometimes, when she looked at him, her eyes turned the deepest, unfathomable honey brown that he could imagine. They mesmerized and enthralled him to no end. She was unquestionably a striking woman.

Draco noticed that he had been gaping at Hermione so he turned back to watch the fire again. It was peaceful at first but he quickly lost interest and the silence became awkward. Each teen was uncomfortably aware of the other but no one spoke and that made them more so.

Eventually, Draco decided that he was tired. He stretched his hands above his head. 'I'm going t-t-to b-bed,' he said, stifling a yawn. He got up into a crouch and made his way to his pile of palm fronds. He laid down with his back turned toward Hermione. Soon, he heard the rustle of leaves that meant she had gone to bed as well.