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CHAPTER FIVE

A few hours had passed as Hermione continued reading over spells when a knock came on Draco's door. Hermione unfolded herself from her position, slipping off the blanket and going to see who and what the person knocking wanted. It was Kyle, the sandy haired youth who had asked where Draco had found Hermione from before.

"Dinner's ready, miss!" he said, grinning. "Drakey asked me to collect you."

Hermione's eyebrows rose. "Drakey..?"

Kyle didn't notice her skeptical expression. "Oh yeah, I'm Draco's favourite person in the entire world! He loves that nickname. So let's go!"

Hermione felt her lips quirking up at the young boy's eagerness. He was so full of life, and so young. He had to have just ended school to look that youthful. Kyle grabbed her hand and with a pop they apparated to the dining room, a dimly lit, beautiful, long room. The table was a dark wood and extremely long, like the kind you would see in the movies, with places set only at the heads of the table. Hermione stared at it awkwardly.

"Where are you eating?" She asked Kyle, pulling a strand of hair around her finger nervously.

"The crew? Oh, we always eat in the kitchens. Draco eats up here, by himself or with a lady guest. Sometimes Thomas comes up, because Thomas is his first man." Kyle explained easily, not even sounding bothered that this table was large enough to seat about fifty people and only one used it.

Hermione scrunched up her nose. This was almost like the house elves back at Hogwarts- they were forced to cook and clean and fix up the school while the students just ate their fill.

"Can I eat in the kitchens please?" Hermione asked quietly, pleading. She had no intention of eating up there, with Draco, by themselves. How… how incredibly awkward. It would just be the sound of cutlery clanking against dishes.

Kyle laughed, a hearty sound. "Are you kidding? Drakey knew you'd ask that so he told me that you're not allowed, sorry. Appetizers should be coming in… twenty three seconds! Nice to talk to you Hermy – you're different than the other girls Dakey brings back!"

With that, Kyle apparated, leaving a confused and nervous Hermione in his wake. Kyle enjoyed nicknames, she deducted. She pulled out a heavy chair from the large, intimidating table and gulped. This dinner was going to be something she had never experienced before. She could feel Draco's cold ice eyes boring through her while he ate. What if she spilled something on herself? What if she accidently had something on her face? What if… her face flushed with embarrassment… what if she missed her mouth with her fork?

It took Hermione a moment to wonder why she was feeling so self-conscious. She didn't usually care whether she had something on her face or the way she was eating. This was different and odd, and she didn't like how concerned over her behavior she was becoming. Just act natural, she told herself.

She licked her lips and drummed her fingernails on the fancy table, the glossy surface smooth and cold under her fingertips. She was all alone in this large dining room. Where was Malfoy?

As if on cue, Malfoy appeared with a crack in his seat. Great apparation precision; it was hard to do things like that. Hermione swallowed nervously as her fingers stopped the incessant drumming they had been doing a moment before. Malfoy just stared at her for a few moments, his eyes unreadable but still slightly cold. After a moment, he inclined his head.

"I hope you found the parchment?" he asked. His voice was casual but Hermione could hear the undercurrent apprehensiveness in it. He was probably trying to keep his anger in check.

"Oh yes," Hermione quickly blurted, afraid to stretch any silence too long. "The spell seems to be one that would work very well! We might have to infuse a little blood in him before he drinks the potion, though, because the spell makes him lose quite a bit of blood."

Draco nodded. "That seems like an… decent idea."

There was a tense silence, until Hermione asked something that had been on her mind. "Where will I be brewing the potion and where am I sleeping?"

"You will be brewing the potion in my quarters, and you will be sleeping in the guest room down the left hall from it. Do you have any other questions?"

Hermione shook her head, tucking her hair behind her ear. Draco sneered, and stared. Hermione swallowed and tried to look everywhere but at his eyes. They were fascinating but almost too brutal to look at, something like looking into the sun. Draco's sneer grew more pronounced as he noted Hermione's awkwardness, and Hermione scowled.

"I have a proposition," she told him, her hands clenching into fists.

Draco raised his fine eyebrows, his eyes glittering. "Do you now, Miss Granger? Pray tell, what is it?"

"I want us to… to be civil with each other while I am on your ship. If I am to be working aside you to help make this potion, then I think we should be on polite terms, so I would like to set some ground rules."

Draco's eyebrows shot even higher. The little woman was trying to set ground rules on his ship? The nerve! But as this was amusing him greatly, he inclined his head to let her continue.

"First, no insults or name calling, for the both of us. We are both adults. Secondly, you will help me brew this potion. Thirdly, you shall not harm me physically or mentally, and treat me like a guest upon your boat." Hermione's voice grew stronger and firmer with each word that passed through her lips. "Fourthly, you and your crew will not assault me in any way."

Draco's laugh startled her. It was a full-blown laugh; his head was thrown back, his plait thrown over his shoulder, his eyes twinkling. "You – you little witch!" he laughed. "Telling me ground rules on my ship?! You're lucky I've spared your life! You'd should be thankful and ask for my rules!"

"Excuse me?" Hermione snapped, heat rising up her neck.

Draco's laugh rang out, the only answer she got.

Hermione stood up angrily, pushing the chair back. "Don't laugh at me, Malfoy! I am completely serious here. Break any of those rules, and I will personally see to it that your balls are removed painfully, one by one, and hung on my personal display."

A crashing sound came from the door, and Draco and Hermione both turned to look. Thomas was standing at the door, at his feet a silver tray that had two soup bowls upon it. He must have heard Hermione's outburst, and had been so shocked that he dropped the tray. Who talked back to the captain? Had it been anybody else, Draco would have cursed them into oblivion, or pulled out his pistol and shot them quickly. It was unnatural to see him just staring at her fuming form, with an odd expression in his eyes – they were the most alive he had seen in years, dancing with an unknown emotion.

Hermione's face filled with embarrassment at being caught saying such an impolite thing, but she held her ground and lifted her chin in an act of defiance.

Thomas shook his head, cleared his throat and swiped out his wand, fixing the plates in their original form and clearing the soup on the floor. He went back downstairs for more, looking sheepish and uneasy.

Draco, on the other hand, looked at Hermione with amusement shining in his beautiful eyes. "You have nerve, Granger, but sometimes that can get you killed."

Hermione resisted the urge to slap some sense into him and rolled her eyes instead. "Malfoy, I'm trying to make an agreement with you. I can finish the potion faster if we cooperate, and if I finish the potion faster, your crewmember has a higher chance of living, and I will leave sooner."

Draco tilted her head, weighing her statement in his mind. He had nothing to lose being nice to her, and what she said was true. It wouldn't kill him to treat her better than he did back at Hogwarts; he hadn't ill-treated a woman in quite a long time since. He could always use the curse he had placed on Ben and her, but it was very powerful and took a lot of strength, something he had to save. He'd give this politeness a try. Nothing would happen to him. Nothing could happen to him.

Boy, was he wrong.

***

The soup came once more, and it looked watery and disgusting. Hermione poked it with the silver spoon laid in front of her, looking at it hesitantly.

Draco's lips pulled up slightly at Hermione's faintly repelled face. "Paul was our cook," he explained as he dipped his spoon into the soup gingerly. "Roric has taken over for now, but he's not very good."

Hermione was startled by his conversational tone. Wow, he took the 'let's be civil' thing really well, she thought. Well, if he was in the mood to talk, then she definitely wasn't going to let him clam up again.

"Back in Europe, I started this really good cookbook and I memorized most of the recipes. They're lovely and I wouldn't mind trying to test them out," she put in slowly.

Draco shrugged his shoulders, once again dismissive. "Do what you wish, just make sure you have the time to create the potion."

Hermione nodded eagerly, beginning to explain the difference between a Decadent Butterscotch Nut Coffee Cake and a Butterscotch Chocolate Chiffon Cake. Draco rolled his eyes, but continued to listen anyways. It was a nice change to have a voice ringing around this old room, even if it was from the world's most insufferable know-it-all.

***

Hermione started the potion that very night, lighting the fire underneath the big black cauldron that was in the corner of Draco's room. It was awkward being in his room, but Hermione knew that he wanted to oversee her progress, and she decided that it wasn't a bad idea. She was pleasantly surprised when Draco agreed to be civil with her – now she could get this potion finished and get the hell off the boat.

She felt Draco watching her through the fumes the potion was giving off. It was weird, having him watch over everything she was doing. She hoped it wouldn't hurt her concentration.

The potion bubbled and hissed and frankly, it looked absolutely disgusting. The worst part was that it was blood-based, which meant the liquid sloshing around the cauldron was sickly red and thick and goopy. Hermione had never brewed a potion that reacted this quickly to other ingredients – who knew that dragon blood and boomslang skin created such an interesting effect? Hermione was scribbling notes down in a small notebook as well, just in case she needed to refer back to them.

She counted how many clockwise stirs she had to do under her breath, followed by a counterclockwise stir. This was very confusing. After adding the bellbeetle shell, Hermione paused to take a deep breath, and looked up.

He was staring at her again, his icy eyes not giving any emotion away. Maybe he was scrutinizing her or praising her (unlikely) – Hermione couldn't deduct anything. She flushed slightly catching him staring at her and looked back down at the potion, which was creating a nasty smell. Fortunately, Draco had cast some smelling charm on the room so it was hardly detectable, but still.

She added a few sprigs of a herb and set the potion under a round window Draco had in his room, where the moonlight spilt across the potion beautifully. It had to cure in the moonlight every night, and the ingredients could only be added after the sun set. It was confusing and hard to follow, but basically she couldn't work on it during the day.

"I'm done for tonight," Hermione announced, standing up from her cramped position. She had been working on the potion for over two hours.

"Do you want an award?" Draco scoffed. "Go to sleep, you'll be helping the crew tomorrow."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Draco. "Let me remind you, Draco, that I am working on this potion. I don't think you should be threatening me."

Draco's fine eyebrows rose and his long hair glinted in the firelight. "That was not an threat, Miss Granger, you will be working with the crew tomorrow. You don't want to be bored on this ship, so you will start by cooking breakfast, then cleaning the rooms, and you will prepare lunch. Then you will scrub the deck and wash the necessary sheets and items in each room, along with clothing."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "You – I – you expect me to be a … a maid on your ship? I am a ministry worker! I'm not going to-"

Draco breathed in a deep breath as if preparing himself, before he snapped his fingers and a lacing pain shot through Hermione. She fell to her knees. "Do you understand, Miss Granger?" Draco snapped.

Hermione raised her head weakly, clutching her heart. "Yes," she whispered.

For the billionth time, Hermione wondered just what she had gotten herself into.

***

Hermione awoke to an incessant knocking on the guest room's door. She knew exactly where she was, but she couldn't stop the soft whoosh of breath escape her lips as she recalled everything that had happened.

The ship was large, but it didn't completely quell the rocking motion of the ocean. It was actually quite comfortable – Hermione had never been a victim of seasickness, it was more of a fear of heights for her – and she quickly got used to it.

She threw off her covers slowly and staggered to her feet. Thanks to Draco's unwillingness to help her find her room, she had walked around the large hallways of the ship for a good thirty minutes before finding a room labeled "guest". It was a creamy white colour, with a picture of a sailing boat on the wall, and a large, four-poster bed that was actually quite comfortable. There was an attached bathroom with shampoo, soap, and all necessary accoutrements that she needed.

In a closet against a wall, Hermione found shirts and shorts – they were kind of big and baggy, but Hermione didn't complain. It would be better this way anyways; she didn't want any of the pirates staring at her attributes by wearing skin tight clothes. She conjured underwear and bras because the closet didn't have any, and her pajamas consisted of a baggy black t-shirt and khaki colored shorts that were so big they fell down past her knees. Fortunately she found a belt, and that was what she was using to hold the giant folds up.

Hermione had never been very good at altering clothes with magic, and a pile of ruined clothes lay in the corner of the room.

The knocking increased in volume, and a bright, cheery voice called through the door.

"HERMY!" It was definitely Kyle. "Drakey asked me to wake you up! It's time to cook brekkers, the other men are already up!"

Hermione groaned, rubbing her temple and hiking up the big shorts. She opened the door and took in Kyle's smart appearance; he was wearing the drawstringed white shirt, black slacks and black boots, and a big belt. Typical "piratey" clothing.

"Lead the way to the kitchens, Kyle," Hermione groaned, fighting down a yawn. The sun hadn't even risen yet.

The kitchens were large but simple and easy to use. Kyle explained that the kitchen was called the "galley", but Hermione preferred "kitchen" and continued to call it that. A scraggly looking man met her at the door, introducing himself as Roric.

"I'm terrible at cooking," Roric admitted, "ever since Paul got that barb through his side the crew have had some of the worst meals ever…"

Hermione let out a nervous laugh.

Roric ignored her nerves and showed her around the large "galley", pointing out different things and what they were used for. "Draco told me to get you to prepare breakfast, and if it's any good we'll have you try for lunch. If both meals work out well then you can probably come and help me every day, and Draco will lay you off the crew duty."

Hermione scowled. "Why does he even make me do that? Does he make every one of his female guests clean the deck and the rooms and wash the sheets?"

"No… not really," Roric licked his lips and swallowed. "You see, Miss Granger, it's more that the other women on the ship are… well, they're only good for… they're very voluptuous… quite worn down by morning, if you get my drift."

"Only good for fucking!" Kyle hollered from the galley door.

Hermione's cheeks tinted red. "I see," she muttered. "I'm the first and only woman who's not being used as a playtoy."

Rorsac had the civility to look sheepish. "You're very smart though! And don't think you're not attractive – it's just that Draco goes for blondes… something about a decent looking bloodline,"

Hermione's lips quirked slightly. That was a typical Draco move.

However, she still felt a little tinge of disappointment, which she couldn't place. It wasn't like she was jealous of those big-boobed blondes who were treated like royalty on the ship and whom Draco actually liked… was she? She wasn't a whore and she didn't want to be used for just one week for just one purpose – she wanted to help Paul and save his life. Still, a nagging thought in the back of her head kept questioning if she would have been treated differently if her hair were blonde, if she were taller, and if her boobs were bigger.

***

Hope you liked it :D

Reviews are lovely and thank you for submitting them!

I'll answer any questions that you ask and try to reply to the reviews:

Irisheart8 – thank you so much for your praise, and I loved your suggestion. However, I know I've spent most (if not all) of the chapters just setting the stage, but I still feel like the romance needs to build up - because they don't know each other very much yet… but don't worry, it's definitely coming.

Keke Koorime: Thank thank thank you

.Poisoned Scarlet.: I know it's short and this one's short as well I apologize and I'll try to make them longer. It's just that it's hard to find a good place to stop, if you know what I mean! But thank you as well!

Lya Darkfury: thank you thank you :D it's what I've been trying to do; I can't just make them fall in love straight away.

Zabinilover: I love it when people quote their favourite parts ;) thank youu.

IGOTEAMEDWARD: ahahhaha that review made me laugh, mercii.

Jade2009: So true… well, you'll see how long it takes for our Draco to crack.