Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling.

A/N: Sorry for the longer wait than usual ): I don't know what came over me; I just sort of lost motivation for a couple days. But don't worry; I'm interested to see where this takes me once again.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Hermione gave out a very audible gasp as Draco's lips first met her wound. He began applying gentle pressure, sucking as his tongue gently caressed the cut. He raised his head and his lips were ruby red, streaks running down his chin.

Hermione looked away. He looked like a monster.

Draco had conjured up a bucket of some sort, and he spat into it. His teeth and tongue were covered in blood. It was quite off-putting and Hermione was disgusted.

He continued to suck and spit, suck and spit, making a continuous routine. The feeling was slowly inching back into her wounded leg; it started as a slow burn but it was escalating greatly and was becoming hotter with each suck.

Hermione steeled her mind. She wasn't as shell-shocked anymore and she was actually extremely disappointed in herself that she had actually let that happen. Hermione Granger didn't make mistakes. At least, that's what everyone thought. Hermione tried to live up to her reputation but sometimes she found herself making stupid, careless mistakes, such as the brainless fumbling she'd done with the silver knife. God, if Snape could see her now, he'd have a fucking field day.

Always wear gloves, he had constantly reminded her.

Not only was that a mistake, the even bigger one was getting caught and getting stuck on this bloody ship. Hermione gritted her teeth as the burning became even hotter. Her stomach was beginning to clench as well.

There was an easier way to get rid of poison, but they didn't have the equipment. But where did Malfoy ever learn how to use a Muggle way of removing blood from your bloodstream? The thought of him, going through muggle remedies, made Hermione cringe.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked at her sudden flinch. "This should be painful, but you haven't said a word."

Hermione winced at Draco's beastly look – blood dripping out of his mouth was not a sight Hermione ever wanted to encounter again. She shook her head. If she said anything, she might scream. Her stomach was convulsing and her throat and entire body felt like it was on fire. Beads of sweat were pouring down her face.

Draco understood her pained expression and shifted his attention back to her wound, continuing the suck-then-spit routine. He was being so… so gentle, it was surprising. His fingers were lightly playing on the surrounding skin of Hermione's leg, tracing light patterns on her flushed skin. It was almost as if he didn't even realize what his hands were doing, so concentrated on sucking out the poison.

Hermione was writhing now. Her body felt like it had been dipped in lava and all her coherent thoughts had burnt along with it. This was the problem with using muggle ways to remove magical creature's poison – it wouldn't go easily.

Hermione was aware of keeping her lips clamped shut and she could feel her nails raking against the floor. She tried to keep as still as possible, but it was actually proving to be a hard feat because all she wanted to do was jump into the ocean.

"Granger?" Draco's voice cut through her thoughts. "Granger, answer me."

His soft lips had removed themselves from her leg and the cool fingers were no longer tracing patterns.

Hermione cracked open an eye that felt it weighed a million tons. Everything was blurry and out of focus. "Mmmghhhd," she managed to squeeze past her lips.

A cool hand swept her hair out of her face and rested lightly on her forehead, feeling for her temperature. Hermione leaned into the cool touch, and it drew back slightly as if surprised, before staying still.

"Hermione, you should be cooling down very soon. I'm going to go… ah, clean off this blood. Just stay still. You probably wont be able to move for a couple of days, but that's okay," Draco said gently, removing his cool hand from her face.

Draco's words registered dimly somewhere in the back of Hermione's mind. What else was she supposed to do? She could barley lift her arm. Everything felt heavy and disorientated, but Draco was right – she was cooling down, even if it was only a tiny little degree.

A few, endless minutes later, Hermione found herself able to open both eyes and prop herself gingerly up on her elbows. She looked at the slice on her leg. The skin around it was no longer an angry purple-red, but instead a pale, pasty colour. At least the poison was out.

Hermione berated herself. How could she have been so stupid? So clumsy and so careless? Hermione felt her brow furrow in disappointment at her less-than-average performance.

Malfoy's probably laughing up a storm in the bathroom, she told herself weakly.

Still, she remembered that fleeting look of panic in his eyes and the gentle feel of his touch as he meticulously drew out the poison. What did it mean?

Hermione struggled upright. The heat had died down, and now it just felt as if she had been in the sun for a very long time. Her breath wheezed out and her stomach lurched as she stumbled to her feet. After-effects of the poison.

Hermione grit her teeth and stood straight, raising her arms above her head. The best way would be to get as much oxygen into her lungs and into her limbs. The rest would depend on her immune system – however, it should be rather high because of her constant proximity to potions and their fumes.

Sure enough, a few minutes after Hermione had raised her arms above her head, the dead-weight feeling in her limbs was slowly dissipating, and she could feel her throat freeing up slightly. Her body was still flushed, but it was bearable. She was still slightly off-balance and a lot weaker than she should've been at her normal state, but she was doing a lot better than a normal person who had just been poisoned by hippogriff blood should've been.

"Accio wand!" Hermione called, and her wand whisked into her hand. She sat down heavily, muttering "Ferula."

Bandages wrapped around her wound, tight and compact. She sighed and drew a hand down her sticky, sweaty face. This whole day had been going so well, and she had to screw everything up with a stupid mess.

I'll get this bloody potion made if it's the last thing I do. And no more mistakes.

With that thought in mind, Hermione determinedly made her way back to the large, steaming cauldron. Conjuring up some heavy-duty gloves, she began to dice the bladder once more, resolve written all over her face.

***

Draco eyed himself in the bathroom mirror, washing his hands over and over. The water collecting at the bottom of the sink was an interesting pink colour, swirling around like his thoughts.

What had drove him to do the dirty deed of sucking the venom out himself? He could have easily called Frank for an antidote… or would that have taken too much time? What else could he have done? Was there any other way to have saved her?

Draco shook his head, mystified. He had willingly put his mouth to a mudblood's leg and had sucked her blood into his mouth. Her dirty, muddy blood – which had been bright red and did not taste like mud, but like the regular, tangy taste of blood. There was no difference between the blood coursing through his veins.

It had taken five rinses to get the red stain from his tongue and teeth, but he could still taste it in his mouth.

Draco turned and swiftly kneeled before the toilet. His stomach was heaving and he felt the unusually saltiness in his mouth that you only feel before a throw-up. Everything he had just done went against his family's morals; everything he had just done defied his father in every possible way.

Yet Draco could not feel bad, or angry with the slender girl in the other room. Maybe that was what was causing him to feel so odd, so lost. No matter how hard he tried, he only felt that same ridiculous, destructive feeling of relief that she was okay.

When did I get so protective? Draco thought to himself, covering his eyes with his hand. Hermione Granger must leave.

He remembered the shocked look on her face when the knife thudded into the floor. As if she couldn't believe that it had been her who had just messed up; who had just accidently made a little slip. Perfect Granger wasn't so perfect after all, was she? Draco could've laughed. He could've sneered as he watched her struggle.

But there was that look in her deep brown eyes – the one that clearly said that all thought had left her mind and she had forgotten everything that could help her in that moment. The completely head-over-heels lost look in her doe eyes. She had turned to him for help.

How could he have refused?

Look what she had done. Hermione Granger had brought Draco Malfoy, the infallible Draco Malfoy, to his knees in front of a toilet.

Draco stood up hastily with that thought. No one brought him to his knees – not even a dirty, stupid girl who was causing him all sorts of problems even though she had the softest skin he had ever –

Stop.

***

Hermione swept the diced bladder into the potion and was careful to lay the silver knife back down on its side, on the table. Her eyes were growing heavy and she was dead tired from what she had just been through.

The potion hissed and it turned into a brilliant silver colour, bubbling and frothing. Hermione smiled wearily. She was so tired, and she had just finished adding the last ingredient she needed for that night.

She stood up and yawned, moving slowly towards the door. Now all she needed to do was to get back to her room, and she could take a nice, long, steamy bath, then she'd flop onto her soft, velvety bed.

Hermione staggered to the door. Her eyelids were heavy and she was about to drop on her feet. She willed herself to perform one more task - she apparated on the spot and found herself lying haphazardly across her bed.

She was asleep within the second.

***

Draco exited the bathroom, not quite knowing what he would do when he saw Hermione on the floor. He'd apparate her back to her room and maybe he'd watch over her for a couple hours – just to see if she was alright?

However, the girl was not lying where she had been placed on the ground. In fact, she was nowhere in the room, and the potion was bubbling frantically.

She… she got up? Draco thought in awe. She was supposed to be out cold for two or three days… how? Is she back in her room?

Draco looked around once more, just to check if she was hiding somewhere in his room.

Should I apparate to her bedroom? To check on her?

Draco swallowed. What if she was changing? What if she was taking a bath…? His face heated up. He had no right thinking of those things –

I have every fucking right to think about anything I fucking want! Draco bellowed in his mind. Girls fall over themselves to fuck me, why the hell am I being such a fucking pansy?!

Draco angrily tore his shirt off and climbed into the bed. What was Hermione doing to him? He didn't act like this. He didn't rescue girls. He didn't willingly suck poison out of their bloodstream. What the hell was wrong with him?

Draco inwardly raged for a few more minutes, tossing and turning angrily. He was extremely upset at his less-than-manly act. I'm going all soft.

As he closed his eyes and finally drifted off to sleep, something in the back of his mind knew that he would check up on Hermione in the morning.

***

Hermione felt a presence in the room, but she couldn't bring her eyelids to open so she could check whom it was. She could feel the sunlight against her eyelids, so it must be morning.

Her bed was so comfortable and her eyelids were so tired. She wanted to sleep and sleep and sleep, and never wake up.

However, the thought of having a serial killer in the room with her made her eyes groggily blink open and Hermione found herself looking at a very sheepish looking Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway.

He shifted his eyes when hers sleepily found his. "I… I came to check on you in case you hadn't made it back to your room."

Hermione licked her lips and coughed gently. "You come to check now?" her voice was hoarse and scratchy. "I could've collapsed in the hallway and you would've only found me this morning?"

Draco's eyes narrowed and his arms crossed over his chest. "That's rich, saying that to someone who saved your life last night."

Hermione groaned and shoved her face into her pillow. "That's so embarrassing. I can't believe I messed up like that."

Draco raised his eyebrows. They were almost having… they were almost having a normal conversation.

"It's okay, you know," he found himself saying. "Everyone makes mistakes."

Hermione looked up from her pillow and found her eyes slightly watery. "Thanks but… but I don't make mistakes. I know that sounds really cocky, but it's part of my job and part of my upbringing. I'm not supposed to make mistakes. My whole life is based on perfection."

Her voice grew softer and softer and she buried her face into the pillow once more.

Draco, not knowing what to say, turned and left her room, closing the door behind him. He paused once and said, "You… you can rest today, if you'd like,"

Hermione made a soft noise of thanks, and Draco quickly left before he said anything else that made him sound too nice and soft and everything he didn't want to be associated with.

***

Hermione fell back asleep quickly, and awoke almost seven hours later. Dusk was beginning to fall and she was still tired, albeit not as much as she had been before.

She took a quick shower, mulling over her thoughts and how kind Draco had been. Had Hermione possibly misjudged him? The way he had treated her the first time they had met on the island hadn't been very kind, but then again, she had been egging him on and acting like a pretty big bitch.

I had every right to do that! He was kidnapping me.

But then he had to completely change his ways and help her remove the poison from her stupid accident, then check up on her in the morning. The Draco she knew from school wouldn't have done something like that in a million years – but then again, this new Draco was completely different and Hermione wasn't even sure she had brushed the surface of his complex being.

He had such strange mood swings – being nice, then cold and distant, then kind… Hermione didn't know what to make of it. It was disconcerting that she was on a ship with a bunch of people she didn't even know, and although she thought that she had known Draco, she really couldn't say that anymore.

Hermione dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of slacks and a long t-shirt. It wasn't the best outfit, but she wasn't trying to look good and she honestly didn't care. She was comfortable.

She made her way down the hallway, deciding not to apparate. Apparating last night had been rather painful, with her sore stomach, and she would have to stay away from that way of transportation unless it was absolutely necessary.

Her blood would be pumping abnormally slow because of the poison that had been coursing through her veins the night before, so she would get tired more easily and would probably be weak for a few days. If she were at the ministry, they would've given her a month off and possibly even have sent her to St. Mungo's, where they would keep her confined to a bed for a week or more.

That's how long she should've been in bed. Hermione shouldn't have been walking around the day after she was poisoned, but being in bed made Hermione feel extremely useless and she would have none of it. She had already proven what a klutz she was, and she wasn't about to lay in bed for a couple more days.

Maybe I'll pay a visit to Paul. Just to see how he's faring.

***

Hermione reached Paul's door fairly quickly; having memorized the path Frank had showed her the first day. There was no sound coming from the other side of the door, and Hermione swallowed.

She pushed open the door gently, whispering out Paul's name. The room was completely dark, as usual, and Hermione quickly thought Lumos to brighten it up. The tip of her wand began to light, casting an eerie glow over the room.

The bed was empty, covered with spots of blood and the sheets were lying on the ground. Hermione swallowed nervously. Where the hell was Paul? She moved her light over the room and stifled a gasp.

Paul was curled up in a corner, next to the dresser, rocking back and forth. The soft, greenish glow of Hermione's wand cast a very unnatural glow around the room, and Hermione was thoroughly creeped out.

"Paul, what are you doing?" Hermione asked nervously. "Get back into bed!"

Paul continued to rock back and forth, muttering insane words. Hermione hesitated. She didn't really want to venture further into the room with Paul in this state, but she couldn't just leave him curled up in the corner. In that position, his wound was probably being compressed and bleeding profusely… this would not be good. Paul could not lose any more blood than he already had.

Hermione quickly stepped into the room, holding her glowing wand out in front of her like a weapon. Paul could be hallucinating, or possibly even think that Hermione was the enemy. It would do no good to put her guard down.

The light from the hallway had been spilling into the room, but suddenly the door slammed shut. Hermione let out a little squeak of surprise, turning to see what had shut the door. Nothing. Nobody was there, just the door.

She turned back to Paul and found him gone from the corner. A prickly feeling of dread was rising up the back of her neck.

"Paul?" she whispered, spinning around on the spot. "PAUL."

A deep, harsh voice filled the room. Hermione froze in surprise. It was coming from everywhere.

"From the depths it will arise,

Beneath the frothing, roaring waves.

It promises a swift demise,

As you venture slow into your graves.

Sail away and past the straits,

Do not go near the island chain

Go not through the guarded gates

Let the unseen triangle remain."

The rattling voice stopped and Hermione heard a thud. She turned quickly to where the sound had been heard and gave a little moan. Paul was lying, face down, on the carpet directly behind her, blocking her path to the door. The fact that he was blocking her path was not what caused her to moan – it was the fact that blood was steadily seeping into the carpet from his stomach. This was not good.

Hermione hesitated slightly. She wanted to light up the room more, but she didn't know if it would hurt Paul – he hadn't been in light for quite some time. But the only way she could help him would be with light, seeing as she couldn't see much with her pathetic lumos. Did she have another choice?

"Lumos maxima!" Hermione whispered, and a brilliant light shot up to the ceiling, hovering there and casting a brighter light around the room.

Paul looked terrible, lying on the floor. His body colour was completely off, even more so than it was before, and he looked like he had been knocked out from the strain of his odd behavior.

"Paul, Paul," Hermione groaned, dropping to her knees in front of the injured sailor. "What did this to you…?"

Muttering a mobilicorpus, Hermione maneuvered the body gently so it was floating above the bed. She quickly cleaned the bed sheets as best she could, siphoning off the blood, but it was still stained a dull pink. She lowered Paul once more to the sheets without a struggle. His odd poem rang in her mind.

"Ferula!"

Bandages wrapped once more around his grotesque wound and around the rest of his stomach and chest.

Hermione quickly conjured up some cold towels and pressed them against Paul's hot forehead. His breathing was shallow and uneven.

"Anapeneo!"

It handy little spell that cleared blocked airways, and if Hermione had said it right (which she always did), Paul's breathing should've evened out. It seemed to work slightly and Hermione breathed out in relief. She should probably get Draco and tell him about what had happened.

Hermione backed out of the room slowly, opening the door that had so mysteriously closed. She removed the light and began to make her way slowly to the deck.

***

"Malfoy!" Hermione called as she reached the upper deck. The sun was vanishing below the horizon, but bright streaks of pink and yellow and orange were still clear.

Malfoy was at the wheel once more, his gloved hands gripping the wheel tightly, his eyes looking somewhere in the horizon. He noticed the small figure moving towards him and his eyes flicked to hers.

"Granger?"

"Malfoy," Hermione said urgently. "I went to check up on Paul and he did something really weird, he began reciting this weird rhyme in this deep, throaty voice then he collapsed and…"

Frank, overhearing their conversation, rushed to the pair.

"Paul was awake?" Frank cried. "How? I gave him one of my most potent sleeping potions!"

Draco was staring, his brow furrowed and a look of wariness over his features. "He said something, did he?"

Hermione nodded, quickly reciting the poem. For some reason, it had burned into her mind and she remembered every word he had uttered.

Frank and Draco looked at each other for a moment, communicating silently.

"We'll have to change our course," Frank uttered incredulous. "This… I can't believe…"

Hermione coughed slightly. "How do you know he's telling the truth? He could've been hallucinating, couldn't he?"

Draco shook his head. His voice was heavy. "Paul… Paul's great-grandmother was a seer. It's only natural that he makes a prediction every once in a while… it's happened before. They've all been warnings, but nothing as worrying as this."

Frank groaned. "What… what are we going to do?"

Draco heaved a sigh. "We'll have to stop at Parker Island for a longer period of time then I initially wanted. Then we'll decipher what Paul said and see if it's really necessary to avoid there by all costs."

Hermione looked from man to man. "Do you know what the poem means?"

Draco's features were drawn as he looked towards the horizon. "There's a very high chance that he's talking about the area in which he was injured. Frank… will you bring Hermione into your office and explain? I have to man the ship, and Parker Island is just a few more hours away."

Frank nooded, and grasping Hermione's arm, apparated away.

***

They landed in a small, circular room that was a dark brown colour. It was attractive and smelt like parchment and ink, something Hermione was very familiar with. There was a circular table in the middle of the room, and Frank and Hermione sat themselves upon two wooden chairs that surrounded it.

Frank took out a piece of parchment and began scribbling down the poem that Paul had said. "Beneath… waves… beware… beast…"

Hermione watched him silently, pondering the meaning of the odd poem. So Paul's great-grandmother had been a seer, and he got premonitions sometimes too. But didn't seer-powers skip a generation? That would mean that Paul's parents, mother or father, would've gotten the gift and Paul would've missed it. Odd.

Frank wiped the ink from his fingertips with a dainty white handkerchief. "Miss Granger, I presume you'd like to know how Paul got hurt?"

Hermione nodded slowly. "That would be informative."

Frank slowly breathed through his nose, closing his eyes for a second as if trying to remember what exactly had happened. As he opened his mouth, he hesitated.

"I think it would be best if I showed you."

Frank got up slowly and went to a cabinet behind Hermione's chair, beckoning her to come. He opened the rusty handles to show a pure marble bowl with a silvery substance floating inside, looking lighter than air. A pensieve.

Frank lifted his wand to his temple and drew out a fine strand of silver, which he promptly dropped into the bowl, where it began to spin.

"Please, after you," Frank said kindly.

Hermione looked at the blossoming black in the pensieve and licked her lips. It was just a memory; why did she have such a bad feeling in her gut? Steadying her nerves, Hermione gripped the side of the bowl with both hands and plunged her head into the substance.

***

It felt like she was falling through a spider-web; streaks lined the world around her as the memory began to take shape. Everything was silent and surreal for a brief moment before Hermione's feet touched a solid surface, and bang.

Everything exploded into a jumble of sound, sights, yells and screams.

Hermione found herself back on the deck of a very familiar ship. The sky was a dark, stormy gray, and the waves were large and ferocious, slamming against the sides of the ship. It was lurching and crashing unsteadily over the large, frothing swells.

Because it was a memory, Hermione was in absolutely no danger and she felt oddly detached from the scene in front of her. She could feel the ship pitch over the dark waves, but she was somehow still stable on her feet.

Around her, chaos was raging. Men were tearing at each other like rabid beasts; the crew she was familiar with against odd-looking men with large, disproportional bodies, sunken eyes and gaunt features, as if their sallow looking skin had been stretched tight over bones. They unfamiliar creature-men were dripping wet and a disgusting greenish yellow colour; one's arm was blown off and a putrid-looking water-like liquid gushed out.

The sound of swords clanging and curses being thrown was unbelievable. Men and creatures were thrown left and right, often falling over the wooden railing of the boat, landing with a splash in the dark waters. There was screaming and yelling, and a creature was blown through Hermione's shadowy form after being hit by a curse.

A hand grasped her arm and Hermione jumped before realizing that it was merely Frank. He was looking at the scene with sadness and fury in his eyes.

"We lost so many that day," he said softly, but Hermione could hear him like he had shouted in her ear.

Hermione gestured towards a disproportional, staggering pale-man. "Who are they and why are you fighting them?"

Frank looked at Hermione, surprised. "You can't tell what those things are? They were very popular with Lord Voldemort at the height of his time."

Hermione looked closely at the odd, sluggish creatures. "No!" she cried, realization dawing. "Inferi?"

Frank nodded solemnly.

"They can't be inferi! There can't be that many of them; inferi need to be controlled by one source and you would need such a large number of already-dead bodies…"

A jet of fire spewed from a younger looking Wesley's wand, hitting one of the creatures dead in the chest. It staggered back a few steps but seemed to have absorbed the blow, and carried on making it's way towards Wesley.

Hermione pointed that out. "Inferi are scared of heat and light as well! That spell should've completely demolished it."

Frank gave Hermione a wry, humorless smile. "They're inferi, but slightly different as well. These are all men who drowned at sea, and they are all controlled by a very dark source. A monster, to be exact."

Hermione looked at Frank with growing apprehension in her eyes. "Inferi, controlled by a monster? That's… that's new."

Frank nodded solemnly as the battle raged around them. "It's dangerous, old magic. People believe that the monster that controls these creatures died centuries ago, but seafarers know better. The ministry hides all evidence under 'unfortunate accidents'. They don't want to busy themselves trying to destroy the monster – it would be too much paperwork and far too dangerous. They let the monster live in the sea and they watch over the land."

Hermione instinctively ducked as a jet of red light flew over her head, even though it would've flown straight through her. She saw a less-haggard looking Frank slice one of the corpses' heads off, which let out a jet of foul liquid.

Frank sighed. "The monster preys on ships like ours, except most of the time they're muggle navy ships or cargo ships. Easy prey; they don't know how to defend themselves and guns are useless against them. Once the people aboard the ship die and they are swallowed by the ocean, they are turned into an army of inferi. This another reason how the sea inferi are different than normal inferi."

Hermione recited what she had learnt long ago slowly. "Regular inferi… they can't think for themselves; normal inferi are created to perform a specific duty assigned by the wizard who commands them and can only perform that specific duty."

Frank nodded. "These sea creatures will do whatever the monster asks of them. They do not die unless they are fully dismembered, and once their task of destroying a ship is complete, they sink back down into the ocean to await their next orders."

Hermione listened with rapt attention. This was morbidly fascinating.

Frank gestured towards a sailor Hermione did not know who caused one corpse to be blasted into several pieces with his wand.

"But sometimes the monster underestimates the strength of the sailors that are on the ship. As you can see, the battle is already evening out. The monster only sent a few of its minions, believing that our ship would easily be captured, and we are quickly exiting its territory. Do you see that rock formation over there?"

Frank pointed to a large chain of rocks in the horizon, rising from the dark sea. Hermione nodded and ducked again as a piece of wood blasted over her head.

"That's where this monster's territory ends, and it cannot venture past it without angering the next territory's beast. We were so close to escaping as well…" Frank murmured, turning back to the boat. "You must watch carefully now."

Hermione waited for something to happen. The sailors were destroying the corpses, and there were only a few left. It seemed like the sailors were going to win this battle after all – most of their faces had wild looks of hope and victory.

Hermione turned to the back of the ship and was not surprised to see Draco manning the wheel, gripping onto the wood while skillfully cursing the remaining inferi on the deck below him. The wind was picking up and the waves were growing higher and angrier, as if something beneath them was growing very angry. She could see the concentration etched all over Draco's face as he fought to keep the ship under control as it was tossed between the ferocious waves like a toy.

Suddenly, pillars shot up around the ship; huge, massive pillars that stretched towards the sky and were so thick that Hermione bet it would take at least five of her to wrap fully around them. It was only after the pillars started to curl and bend that Hermione realized that they weren't pillars but giant tentacles.

Hermione's eyes widened and her jaw dropped as droplets of water rained down from the massive, looming tentacles. She had never seen anything like this; she had never expected the monster to be this… this huge. From what Harry and Ron had said about the size of the basilisk they faced back in second year; each tentacle was longer and larger than one. Her hands clasped over her mouth.

The rocks that signified the end of the giant sea monster's territory were achingly close. The crew staring up at the beast's tentacles were open-mouthed in dismay and horror. Time seemed to slow down for a few seconds as the tentacles coiled around the air above the ship.

"Shield charms!" Draco roared.

Everything seemed to spin into motion.

"Protego!" the crew yelled, almost in unison, pointing at the sky. The chopped up corpses lay scattered on the deck, forgotten.

Jets of green lights shot from all wands, connecting somewhere high above the ship, between coiling tentacles. The light expanded into a bubble like shape; wrapping the ship in a small, tight sphere of green light. The ship continued to edge closer and closer to the ending point of the territory. The tentacles began to slam down into the water, as if trying to slam something it couldn't see, causing massive waves to form. Draco was expertly steering the ship through the mass of looping tentacles as the crew struggled to keep up the shield charm.

The charm had yet to be proven useful; the tentacles kept missing, sometimes by mere inches and glancing off the edge of the charm.

"The monster has terrible eyesight. Usually it never has to do this, and it's even harder for it to pinpoint the exact location of magic vessels because of the conflicting magic auras." Frank explained softly, his eyes trained on the giant beast's tentacles. "But eventually they do… or it's just a lucky strike."

As if on cue, a giant tentacle slammed into the sphere encircling the ship. The tentacle bounced off and slithered back into the water, but the ship's sudden lurch had caused almost all the men to fly backwards, landing in dazed heaps on the deck. The charm flickered and died, leaving the ship defenseless once more.

Only three men remained standing; Malfoy, Frank, and one sailor Hermione realized to be Paul. They were shouting over the harsh wind and the water that was whipping in their faces and eyes.

"Get up! GET UP!" Malfoy was roaring in frustration, his grip on the wheel deadly.

Frank was shooting curses and cutting hexes so fast it was a blur. They hit the tentacles straight on, but only caused a minimal amount of damage.

A large tentacle lifted itself high in the air, preparing to drop straight onto the deck of the ship. As it began to fall in an eerily graceful ark, a blurred object scrambled over scattered pieces of dead bodies and random broken objects that littered the deck. It was Paul, a long gash on his forehead and his nose bleeding from the strain of the previous shield charm. His face was determined and set and Hermione felt her eyes water as he stumbled to a halt below where the tentacle was falling slowly.

"No!" Frank and Draco roared at the same time.

Hermione covered her mouth with her hand once more. Draco and Frank had both began to run over towards Paul, but they were far too far away to make it in time. To make it before the giant tentacle crushed the ship and Paul. It was large enough to be able to completely crunch the ship, possibly even snap it easily in half.

Paul brandished his wand and drew in a deep breath.

"Protego totalum!" he bellowed.

A fierce jet of green light spewed from the tip of his wand and hit the tentacle straight on; light exploded into the sky and Hermione closed her eyes from the sudden onslaught of brightness. The real Frank was gripping her arm so tightly it was painful, but Hermione didn't have the heart to pry his grip away; his eyes were so filled with anger, frustration, regret and sadness and his face was a mask of pain.

When Hermione was able to look again, bow of the ship had just edged past the chain of rocks. The tentacle, which was lying, black and withered, on the deck, slithered painfully back into the sea. The other tentacles reluctantly followed; the ship was now in another territory and was off-limits.

Hermione surveyed the destruction that the ship had gone through in horrified awe. Parts of the railing had been blown to smithereens and the main mast had snapped cleanly in two. There were scorch marks on the deck and on other wooden surfaces from the curses the men had fired, and bodies littered the deck. Blood mixed with the swirling salt water and there were grunts and groans of pain.

The water swirled around and through Hermione's feet – in the memory, she couldn't feel anything. Frank pulled her gently towards where Paul had stood up against the tentacle; Draco and Frank's memory-self were kneeling next to him.

She peeked over their shoulders and her heart broke. Paul was lying in a pool of his own blood. His eyes, nose, mouth and ears had streaks of blood bubbling from them. The strain of the charm he had used was so taxing that he had burst almost all his blood vessels, and his face was deathly white. His white shirt was blossoming with blood and Draco gingerly removed it and groaned. The puncture would was visible and disgusting, and the barb was still inside. It was the size of Hermione's forearm, glistening white.

The memory-Frank gave a little moan of despair. "Draco… what are we going to do?"

Draco swept a hand through his wet hair. "We're going to… we're going to have to kill him, Frank. You know the kraken. Once it's made its mark, it wont stop following us until it completely destroys Paul…"

Frank shook his head frantically. "You can't kill him. We need him Draco; he's one of our best crewmen."

Draco covered his face in his hands. "We'll go to the next port. Get some potions. Keep him in the most stable state we can. Maybe we'll be able to drain the poison from him?"

Memory-Frank nodded, his face drawn and white.

"That will be enough," Real-Frank whispered in Hermione's ear, and his grip lessoned.

The scene before her seemed to grow blurry and unfocused before turning into streaks of black, and Hermione lifted her head from the pensieve.

***

Frank was standing up, his back to the young brunette. "And that is how Paul's injury was sustained."

Hermione felt shocked and numb. "I don't understand though – Paul looked so defeated. How come he's not dead?"

"Paul is a very strong wizard, as you can tell from the amazing protego charm he had displayed against the kraken. We stopped at the next port we could, to fix up the ship. The locals avoided us. We had the stench of monster written all over our faces. We lost eight men that day; six of them had been thrown overboard and we never found them. Two more were overpowered by the inferi. Many more were injured; however Paul received the worst. There was a medi-witch at the port. She healed his bones and his other injuries, but she wouldn't touch the kraken injury."

Hermione had suspicions that the monster was indeed the kraken, but having it said in front of her gave her the shivers. The thought of having an enormous, unbelievably large beast miles underneath the small, defenseless ship made Hermione shudder with fear. She had heard stories of the kraken, but she hadn't really believed them to be real. Then again, she hadn't believed in basilisks either.

Hermione sighed and ran her hand through her bushy hair. "This is a lot to think about, Frank,"

Frank turned around and gave her a ghost of a smile. "Yes, it is. And I'm sorry. And… thank you for understanding. You're a very generous, kind woman, Hermione…"

Hermione blushed modestly, and the door was flung open to reveal a very bothered Draco, scowling fiercely.

"How long does it take to explain something like that? You've been in here almost an hour. What have you been doing?" he snapped.

Frank and Hermione shared a look, causing Draco's scowl to deepen even more. Could it be possible? Could Draco Malfoy be jealous?

Frank gave a forced laugh and quickly exited the room, patting Draco on the back and leaving them awkwardly together.

Hermione looked down. "I'm sorry about what… what happened with Paul."

Draco gave a soft grunt. "Why? It's not your fault. You weren't there. You couldn't have helped him."

Hermione raised her eyes and glanced at Draco. "Malfoy, this wasn't your fault. You couldn't have done anything! Are you really blaming yourself for this tragedy?"

Draco slammed his hand down on the desk. "I am always one step too late, one move too slow. I could've helped him, Granger. I could've prevented all of this trouble. But once again, I failed." He bit out through gritted teeth.

Hermione shook her head firmly. "You were too far away to do anything! It was Paul's choice to do what he did; you should be thankful that he sacrificed himself to let all the others live."

Draco turned jerkily and slammed the door shut. His voice was harsh but Hermione could hear the undercurrent fragility in it.

"You don't understand!" he yelled at Hermione, his deep voice ringing in the small room. "Do you not grasp the fact that I am the captain and I am responsible for my crew's safety? That… that should have been me, protecting the ship, me, taking the blow, not Paul! Paul has a family, a wife and children in England! I, I have no one!"

Hermione shook her head, unperturbed by Draco's outburst. They were rather common, after all. "Draco, if you died, who would steer the ship? Who would give orders? Who would take control? What would the use be of you dying if everything would just spiral back into chaos once you were gone?" she said gently. "This wasn't your fault. Paul was just doing what he thought was right."

Draco was working himself into a fine rage. He must've been harboring this fury with himself inside since Paul had gotten injured, and only now he was letting it spew out. He grabbed the table that was between him and Hermione and with a heave of his arms sent it crashing into the wall of the circular room, sending papers flying. His eyes were glittering dangerously.

"It doesn't matter what he thought was right!" Draco hissed, subconsciously moving closer to Hermione with each word. "The fact is that I AM THE CAPTAIN, but once again I failed to perform my duty! I let someone do the job I was intended to do, and once again let the only people who are close to me get hurt!"

Hermione had a sinking feeling that this went far deeper than just this incident, and her heart went out to the frustrated boy. However, the glittering look in his eyes was still slightly scary, and Hermione felt herself take a few steps back from his encroaching form.

She found her back pressed against the bookshelf behind her, but Draco wasn't stopping. He kept taking steps forward, one by one, until they were, once again, inches apart.

"Finally can't think of anything to contradict me with?" Draco whispered, looking down into Hermione's eyes.

There was an inch of space between their bodies, but it was quickly flattened as Draco took the last step forward, trapping Hermione firmly against the bookshelf with his body.

Hermione felt a swooping sensation in her gut as Draco slid one of his legs between hers. His palms were pressed on either side of Hermione's face, effectively caging her in.

"It's still not your fault," Hermione said stubbornly. "You did all that you could've done! You were steering the ship; you can't do everything!"

Malfoy's mesmerizing eyes narrowed. "Stop protecting me, Granger. I'm not the good guy. I'm not the hero. I was not born to be."

He pushed their bodies closer together, lowering his face a fraction closer to hers.

"What… what are you doing?" Hermione whispered, her eyes flicking between Draco's lips and his stormy eyes. The swooping sensation was growing more pronounced and no matter how hard Hermione tried to force it down, the feeling would not go away and her heart was beating faster than it had in years.

Draco's features were unreadable as a mix of conflicting emotions played through his icy eyes. "I don't know."

Hermione licked her dry lips, and Draco snapped. He lost all self-control and Hermione's stomach dropped as she found Draco Malfoy's lips crashing down upon hers.

***

Notes: I'm terrible at explaining things, so I apologize if it's a bit hard to understand what's going on in this chapter, along with the whole anti-climatic kraken. I wanted to make it more, you know, exciting and scary, but I've never been good with that kind of thing, lol. Also, the whole poison-removal thing didn't really get as intimate as I planned – but I mean, he is sucking her blood. That's kind of gross and I know I wouldn't be turned on. Anyways, I must say this isn't one of my better chapters but I did manage to squeeze some Dramione in the end, didn't I? Hope you still like it though.

Reviews

Tyrande Whisperwind: That means so much to me :D I'm glad I could convert you into a pirate-lover, or at least I hope I'm getting there, hahah. Aw thanks, and I hope this chapter is up to your standards as well (:

Aerde: I get what you mean; I have a love-hate relationship with all my chapters. After I publish them, I always think that I could change something but it's too late! And thank you for loving this story (: and don't worry, there will be many more chapters to come. Thank you!

.Poisoned Scarlet.: Ahh yes Hermione does need to pick up her game doesn't she? Don't worry, you'll see the tough side of Hermione soon :) thank you for the review!

Keke Koorime: They're stubborn people! And here's another chapter that's hopefully longer than the last one, to make up for my super slow update (my apologies). Thank you (:

Mjvegas: Thank you thank you :D

Irisheart8: I'm trying to get her to act god dammit normal but it just don't know how! I'm afraid I'm making her have a completely different personality just for the story, but I'll definitely try to work on that. Thanks for the review (:

In Dreams: Lol yes, silly Hermione ;) I felt like it would be easier for Hermione to feel at home with a nice crew. But it might just be because I've always wanted to meet a bunch of nice pirates ):

BroadwayNightOwl: Thank you! And I hope this chapter suffices. I read this one fanfiction the other day where each chapter is like, 20 pages. I'll definitely need to work on lengthening my chapters :P

JC1988: I laughed when I read your comment ^^ - stole the words straight outta my mouth.

Lya Darkfury: Sweetest review (: thank you thank you. I try to not just dive into the romance, because these things do need to build up. I'm afraid I'm moved a bit too fast in this chapter but hey, the tension is pretty thick and they do have history! :D

Jade2009: I need Hermione to be able to do something while she's on the ship! And ahh, my bad about the legillimancy and occulmency mess-up! I'm wasn't sure about how I wanted the poison-removal to end, but I don't feel like tweaking this chapter anymore… so I apologize if it wasn't how you thought it would be.

IGOTEAMEDWARD: Everyone wants an inner personality :D and yes, I do want Draco getting jealous of the crew. Thank you for the lovely review.

Cat18: Anything can happen in dreams, that's why I love writing about them ;D thank you so much!