Disclaimer: JK ROWLING.
A/N: Ahh, what can I say? I've been busy, you know, the usual excuses ): but I made this chapter extra-long, it's 24 pages (: and I hope you like it! And again, sorry. For being so late ):
***
The Extremely Late Chapter Eight
"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.
***
Hermione's stomach erupted. Butterflies and emotions Hermione had thought she had long forgotten burst to the surface and enveloped her. Draco's lips were firm and soft and gentle; it was perfect and Hermione's breath was stolen straight from her lungs.
One of Draco's hands left the bookshelf and cupped Hermione's cheek gently and tenderly. Hermione sank in the touch, her lips still moving soundlessly against Draco's. Her hands reached up and clutched Draco's shirt; her legs were turning too mush and she needed something to cling on to.
Draco's other arm slipped around Hermione's waist and drew her closer to him. Her lips slightly parted under his passionate touch and he swept her bottom lip with his tongue, seeking access. She immediately granted it and their tongues swept around each other. Hermione's whole body felt like it was on fire, almost the same feeling she had when she had been poisoned, but much, much better. This fire was a slow, heated burning that was coiling in her stomach and flowing through her veins and blocking her more rational thoughts.
The kiss grew hungrier and more heated, as if they were both slowly realizing who they were kissing and didn't know what else to do. If they stopped, reality would crash back down with a brutal slap on the face, and everything would go wrong.
They battled for dominance, tongues sweeping against each other, lips hungry and seeking. Hermione was letting out little mewls of pleasure, which were just driving Draco crazier and crazier. Her hands snuck around his neck and played with his long blond locks. His hand had trailed down her body, sliding against the side of her breast and her stomach as it came to a halt on her hip. His fingers slid inside her shirt but did not venture any further; they played with the waistband of her slacks and drew light patterns on the skin of her waist.
They broke it off for a second to gasp in air, chests heaving and faces flushed. Draco rested his forehead against Hermione's in an unusual display of affection, his eyes closed and a ghost of a flush across his pale skin.
Hermione closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Her hands were still curled around his neck and his fingers were still playing with the waistband of her slacks. What had she done? Everything felt so right, so natural, so perfect. Time slowed down for both of them and nothing seemed as important as the person across from them – Paul's injury, Draco's past, and Hermione's present all faded into a blur of memories that were pushed to the back of their minds. Nothing was important.
Hermione opened her eyes to see Draco's thrilling eyes boring into her own. They were a beautiful, stormy gray and they seemed endless. Once again, Hermione couldn't read the emotions in them.
They stayed in that position for an infinite amount of time, just looking at one another, unsure of what to do. Where would this bring them? What would happen? Hermione's eyes were just fluttering closed and she was just tilting her head up for another breathtaking kiss when a loud bang signaled the door being slammed open.
Draco seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in and threw himself from Hermione immediately, who stumbled back against the bookshelf. She looked like she had just been thoroughly snogged – her hair was messy, her lips were swollen, and she had that dazed, unsure look in her clouded eyes.
Draco turned to the door, where a tall and silent Jassim was standing, his face carefully emotionless. Draco cleared his throat unnecessarily and straightened his rumpled shirt.
"What?" He snapped at Jassim.
"Sir, Parker Island Port is several hours away. A dockworker has told us there is a space at the port to dock the boat, and an apparation site on shore."
Draco nodded, clearing his throat again.
"Thank you Jassim. You… thank you." He swept out of the room without sparing a glance backwards.
Jassim shot Hermione one, unreadable look before leaving the room as well, closing the door behind him gently.
***
Hermione sank to the floor of the small study, her legs giving way. Her fingers touched the lips that had just been so passionately assaulted by Draco, and her eyes stared into space.
What… why…
She was speechless. Hermione couldn't believe what she had just done – she had kissed Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Did that actually happen? Had that actually happened? She ran a shaky hand through her messy hair.
It had felt so right – they fit together like puzzle pieces, like someone had made them into corresponding shapes. The way his body had wrapped around hers was so possessive and so fierce that it had melted Hermione's heart straight through her ribcage.
What are we going to do now?
Hermione was lost in her emotions. What were they going to do? What did the kiss mean? What had Draco been thinking when he instigated it? Was it all a mistake?
Was it a mistake?
Hermione didn't know how long she stayed in that position, her arms wrapped around her knees, sitting on the hard wooden floor. She didn't know what to think anymore; she did not know what to think of Draco anymore. Hermione couldn't deny she felt a pang when she thought of the way his lips had caressed hers, but that didn't mean anything, did it?
She hadn't prepared for this. She hadn't been ready, and she hadn't expected it. No books explained the rush of emotions she was feeling, and no amount of studying would tell her how to deal with this unfamiliar feeling coursing through her veins.
She lowered her head onto her knees, groaning in frustration. I wish I had never gotten stuck on this stupid ship.
She didn't know how many minutes passed before she fell asleep in that position, curled up on the floor of the study.
She was out cold for the entire night, dreaming restless dreams of handsome captains and evil monsters. She didn't even notice when Frank came in with a sad expression on his face and wrapped her in a blanket.
***
Draco slammed the door of his room and let out a roar. He was so bloody angry, so fucking frustrated at the stupid girl who had taken over his thoughts, who had crept into his mind like the fucking plague.
He tore around his room angrily, throwing pillows and vases and anything he could find. He upturned one of his bedside tables, sending parchment and books flying, scattering across the expensive floor. He only stopped after he had nearly knocked over the bubbling potion; the thought of Paul, injured, sobered his angry mind quickly.
He surveyed the destruction he had caused his room with savage satisfaction. At least some of his anger had dissipated, although a large portion of it still resided heavily in his mind. Anger at the little witch, the little brunette who was able to crawl under his skin so very well.
He couldn't believe that he had kissed her, but if given the choice, Draco knew he would not trade the memory for the world. She had tasted like everything he had ever wanted. She tasted like desire and the promise of something better.
Draco slammed a fist into the wall with astounding force. He heard his knuckles pop and felt a lacing pain up his arm, but he honestly couldn't care less at the moment. Draco leant heavily against the wall, not removing his fist from its angry position.
What had he done? They had been so close to Parker Island; he had been so close to getting the brown haired girl out of his system. He gave a low grunt of anger.
Oh, god. If his father could see him now – getting all worked up over a stupid girl. The Malfoy's were supposed to be great seducers; the Malfoy men had women draped over them all the time. Yes, his father had settled down, but that was only because it had been an arranged marriage. Yes, Draco loved his father and his mother – but that didn't mean that they loved each other.
And not only was Draco getting worked up over a fucking girl, he was getting worked up over a mudblood. Yes, Draco tried not to use that term anymore… but really. Why, of all people? Girls had come and stayed on the ship far longer than she had, and he hadn't felt this way about them. He hadn't felt the urge to protect them, to kiss them gently. He didn't want to hold them in his arms. He did not see their faces in his mind's eye whenever he closed his eyes.
He had just fucked them repeatedly.
And not one of them had been a muggle or a muggle-born – every little port had at least a few witches or wizards, and he had found at least a half-blood, although he preferred the pure-bloods. Draco tried to tell himself that blood status didn't matter anymore, but he had been brought up that way and it was hard to knock it out of his system.
But there was nothing muddy about her lips and the way they were molded to fit his; nothing muddy at all about the way their tongues danced. Nothing muddy at all about the way she tasted like the sunrise.
Draco pushed away from the wall, and he hissed in pain. His knuckles were red and bloody, and he could see some white underneath the torn skin.
He pinched his nose, controlling his breathing and trying to quell the giant headache that was raging in mind. He swiftly healed his aching hand with an easy spell and cleaned up his room as best as he could.
Draco left his room, slamming the door behind him, a calm mask gracing his features despite the internal war he was raging.
He stood proud behind the wheel of the ship for god knows how long. The wind whipping at his face managed to clear most his unwanted thoughts, but the one he didn't want the most was still circling around his mind.
Hermione Granger.
***
Hermione awoke, squinting her eyes against the sunlight that was slipping under the crack of the doorway.
Where am I?
Hermione was looked around in confusion for a minute before the memories crashed down around her. The kraken, Draco and her fighting, and then the kiss. Her lips tingled just from the memory, and an unfamiliar but not unwanted pang shot through her heart.
Stop. Stop thinking about him.
Hermione gingerly left the small study and had gasped at the sight that met her eyes; the port was coming closer every second and the ship had already started slowing down. Kyle, who was carefully but quickly lowering the sails with his wand, went to stand by her.
"We've been to Parker Island many times before," Kyle hollered over the sounds of the wind and the sails furling. "It's a great place, sells anything!"
Hermione nodded, looking out over the cerulean waves. There were hundreds of ships of all sizes docked to long, wooden piers, or just floating in the gently swelling waves. The long wooden piers connected to a large island rising from the ocean.
"How big is it?" Hermione called to Kyle.
After he finished furling the sails, he explained everything that had to do with Parker Island.
Parker Island was a large, flat island that sloped into a volcano somewhere in the middle. The volcano took up two thirds of the mainland, so the town was more of a coastal town, with houses and shops dotting the shoreline. The port was large because it was a main trading port and most of the town's inhabitants fished or did something sea-related for a living. The town center was just a mile from the coast, and it was made up of short, squat shops and stores, looking quite like Hogsmeade.
The boat lurched to a stop suddenly, and Hermione rocked forward on her feet before regaining her balance. Through the yells and shouts of the crewmembers, Hermione deciphered that they had put a stopping spell on the boat so it was rooted firmly in spot without needing to lower an anchor or anything.
The perks of being magic, Hermione thought dryly.
However, her heart stopped when Draco's voice rang over the deck.
"Everybody, here!" he called firmly, his voice commanding and business-like.
Kyle bounced to his feet eagerly, pulling Hermione's towards the voice. The rest of the crew had also circled around Draco, awaiting his orders.
"We've been to Parker Island before, and our stay was perfectly fine. There should be no reason that this should change. We are here as guests, so act like one. There will be no raping, killing, or destruction in this town. There is nobody here that is a threat, for now. There is a bar downtown and I expect most of you will end up there, however, you are free to roam around the city. Eat wherever you like, and don't expect the ship to have food when you come back, but try to come back unless you'd like to stay at an inn."
Draco commanded such a powerful aura that Hermione at once knew that no one would dare disobey his orders.
"You may leave now, but I would like Miss Granger, Kyle, Patrick and Thomas to stay for a few moments."
Hermione's stomach clenched as he said her name, while the sound of apparation filled the air with cracks and pops.
Draco looked at all three men, but mysteriously passed over Hermione. "Patrick and Thomas, I want you to alert the Mayor of the town – who is it? Stiltson, I believe – and inform him that I will be holding a ball for all the magical inhabitants of the village; most of them should be witches and wizards, after all."
Pat and Thomas nodded and apparated out of sight quickly, leaving Hermione, Kyle and Draco alone. Draco locked eyes with Hermione, and Hermione was surprised to see no ounce of emotion in them, nothing. Like a cold, blank mask had wiped over them. No affection, not even hate, just… just plain, cold indifference. Like what had happened last night hadn't affected him at all. Like he had just forgotten all about it.
Hermione's chest tightened in hurt. She had expected a reaction from him, at least a flicker of something that told her that he had felt it too. She wouldn't even have minded if he had treated it like he had done the wrong thing; at least he would apologize and admit that he had kissed her in the first place. Her eyes narrowed. Two could play this game.
"Pleasant night last night, Malfoy?" she asked sweetly, looking up at him from under her eyelashes innocently.
He turned to her without any emotion. "Not quite, Miss Granger. You see… I got in a bit of dirt, to put it lightly."
Hermione had half expected an answer such as that, but as it slipped past Malfoy's lips, she felt her heart freeze over and drop somewhere in her stomach. Her throat suddenly tightened. Why?
What had she expected? That he would lift her into her arms and swing her around?
You forgot whom you're dealing with.
Had she believed, for one second, that he would actually change? That he was different from his Hogwarts days? That she, little muggle-born Granger, could have any effect on the handsome, powerful pure-blood Draco Malfoy?
Though it hurt her to think it, the answer was obvious.
Yes.
From the moment he had began to yell at her, Hermione thought that she could help him, that she could make him feel... different. She believed that she could change him, make him give up his way of life. If he just accepted her… if he just thought of her as his equal, someone he could trust and possibly grow fond of… But obviously not.
He was going to act like a complete arsehole about it, about everything. He was going to pretend it never happened. Why?
Because, she told herself, the kiss was a mistake. He lost his head for a moment. He just needed some way to get the emotion out.
Kyle butted in, his voice happy and oblivious. "What do ya mean, Drakes? We're on a ship, you little fucker, you can't get dirty!"
Draco's eyes narrowed in response to Hermione's suddenly expressionless face, and he completely ignored Kyle's useless question.
"Kyle, I want you to escort Hermione around town. Make sure she doesn't stick her nose into anybody's business and kept her out of-" he paused. "Keep her away from any means of escape."
Hermione nodded and sighed heavily, although inside she was hurting. He thought she was a baby. A stupid, useless little baby! God, she wanted to punch him right in the gut so badly; or maybe kiss him. She checked her anger though, and giving Draco a tight-lipped smile, she grabbed Kyle's arm and apparated to shore, ignoring the wrench of pain in her stomach.
***
Hermione was angry for about five minutes before the sight of the coastal town and Kyle's constant, happy jabbering got the better of her and she found herself smiling at the gorgeous sight. The air was crisp and cool and the sun was hidden gently behind puffy white clouds.
Kyle told her stories of the first time he had ever ventured to the small town, and he explained to her what each shop sold as they walked by it.
"Anything you want, Hermione?" Kyle asked. "Drakes gave me some money to give you! He told me to tell you that the money's from me, not him, but I like being honest, you know."
Hermione couldn't deny the small smile that graced her features. A flicker of hope licked at her heart. Maybe somewhere, deep down, Draco was concerned for her? Just maybe. She tried to squash the thought, but it kept popping up.
Forget about him, Hermione!
But she couldn't.
Hermione couldn't help asking about the ball, and Kyle quickly filled her in on all the details that Frank had missed out when he first explained to her what they were.
"Oh, the balls are fabulous!" Kyle gushed, quite femininely, as they browsed around an old bookstore. "Women come from all around town in their best dresses and these beautiful masks. It's almost always a masquerade ball, why, I'm not really sure. Anyways, the men are all dressed in these fancy tuxedos and I even wear one! We dance for most of the night and Drakey charms these instruments to play some really nice music. It's really relaxed, and then at one everyone leaves except the woman who Drakes chooses to keep with him on the boat for the next couple weeks before we reach the next port, where he lets them go." He sucked in a deep breath after saying everything in a whoosh.
Hermione's hand paused over a cracking leather spine. She had forgotten that Draco's "type" were blonde bimbos. Her heart sank a little bit. Would he choose a girl at the ball? Would there be another girl staying on the ship with them? Hermione had a sudden image of them dancing; he would be holding her waist and her arms would be wrapped around his neck and they would be twirling and…
Stop it stop it stop it!
Draco probably knew how he affected the other sex; he was used to have girls fawn and fall all over him. What was he trying to pull with Hermione? He was pulling her in two different directions; Hermione would think that he liked her and then bang, he'd turn the complete other cheek and act like she was simply a bug on his shoe. What if this was all a plan?
All these 'maybes' and 'what if's' passed through Hermione's mind in a sudden jumble. She had never explored these reasons before. Her heart began to lace with doubt and she bit her lip anxiously.
Well, inner-Hermione thought, I'll just have to keep my distance. I'll just have to not fall for the charm of Draco Malfoy. I can do that. I can resist his stupid charms… can't I?
"You can go somewhere else, if you'd like, Kyle?" Hermione told Kyle gently. "I'll catch up with you soon, I just want to go through these books for a little bit more."
Kyle, who was looking extremely bored, perked up instantly. "I'll be in the candy shop just down the street and around the corner! I'll apparate back every hour just to check on you, okay?"
Hermione smiled and nodded at Kyle's eagerness to go to the candy shop. He was such a boy! "That sounds fine, Kyle. I'll be right here."
Kyle all but sprinted out of the glass door of the bookshop, the door jingling as he tore through. Hermione smiled at the boy running down the street. She was growing rather fond of Kyle; he was a nice kid and he seemed to have a good heart. A little old woman cleared her throat behind Hermione, catching her attention.
"Would you like some help, dear? Perhaps a certain book I could help you look for, eh?" the woman smiled kindly.
She was a squat old thing, with wire-rimmed glasses and hair as white as snow. Her eyes, however, were gentle and sweet and reminded her all too much of Molly Weasley's motherly eyes.
"Actually, I'd like a book on… on sea creatures, if you have one?" Hermione asked.
The old woman smiled. "Of course, dear! This bookshop has everything."
She pulled out something from her long flowery skirt, and a book launched itself fro one of the higher shelves directly above Hermione's head, showering her with dust. So the old woman was a witch, then?
The woman smiled at Hermione, as if reading her thoughts. "Yes, I'm a witch, dear. You can call me Renee."
Hermione smiled back and wandered to a table in the shop, where she sat down. Sunlight filtered from a high, dusty window, illuminating the very spot Hermione chose to sit and read in. It was perfect.
Hermione soon lost herself in the pages of the book; it was an old, classic folktale about an admirable wizard called Ropell Garslov, who sailed to the world's end to fight the mighty and feared kraken. It was old and the pages were brittle, but the words were rich and lush.
Garslov was a captain of a ship, and one day he found a beautiful, strange girl floating on a piece of wood. He took her aboard her ship and nursed her back to health, finding out her name was Marianne and she claimed she did not remember anything. She was a beauty, with sea green eyes and flowing blue hair. He fell in love with her, and they lived happily aboard his ship for a few years until Garslov decided to buy a house and live on land for the remainder of his years. Marianne protested and was very reluctant to leave the sea, for some reason.
Once Marianne's foot touched dry land, the waves began to boil and shiver and a huge wave came and swallowed Marianne, pulling her back into the ocean. Garslov's heart was broken and he vowed to take revenge on whatever beast had captured Marianne. One night, Garslov found a letter on his windowsill. It explained how Marianne had been captured and held hostage by the kraken since she was a little girl and was the kraken's property. She had put the kraken to sleep somehow and swam away, where Garslov had found her. However, the kraken was awoken when she stepped on dry land once again and reclaimed Marianne. She went on to tell him that she loved him with all her heart, but they could never be together, and that Garslov should never try to find her unless he wished to die.
Garslov, being the hot-headed wizard he was, immediately set off to find and kill the kraken. He sailed to the end of the world to find Marianne and when the kraken attacked, him and his crew used extraordinary spells and magic to slice off all of the kraken's tentacles as they reached up to crush his ship. The kraken reared up out of the water and Garslov, using a handy levitation spell, broke off the ship's mast and shoved it into the beast's mouth and tore it out again, successfully killing the monster.
The kraken shrunk and shrunk and when Garslov looked over the edge of his ship, he found not the kraken's carcass but the body of his love, Marianne, floating in the water, fatally wounded. He quickly pulled her aboard the ship, and noticed that her sea-green eyes were clouded with death and the long, blue locks of hair he admired so greatly had been hacked off, with red staining the tips like blood. Marianne explained that she was the kraken; a sea-goddess had cast a spell on her for being more beautiful than her and had turned her into the beast. However, when she first spotted Garslov, standing captain aboard his ship, she fell in love and the spell was broken for the time being, until she touched dry land, where the sea reclaimed her as its own.
Garslov held Marianne in his arms as she told him that he was the only mortal man that she had ever loved, and that he would forever be remembered for defeating the mighty kraken. Marianna breathed in her last breath, and as she died, her hair slowly turned back into its original colour, before the sea-goddess changed her, which was a beautiful, rich brown, and her skin changed from its waxy pallor to a beautiful, tanned bronze.
Garslov was so sad that he threw himself overboard, and the two tragic lovers died in their arms, sinking in the ocean they both called home.
Hermione's eyes were pouring and she was stifling her sobs by the time she finished the book. It had been so touching and so beautiful. The best part of the book was that it had been written by a muggle! He had no idea that real wizards actually existed, but he had managed to somehow think of this beautiful plot line. The book had been such a hit with the wizarding world they quickly decided that Garslov would definitely become a well-known wizard, even though he had been thought up by a muggle. Hermione loved and hated this tale because it had been the first, but last time a muggle's work was recognized in the wizarding world.
Hermione pondered over the features of the book. What if the kraken was actually a girl? Or less straight-forward as that, but a misunderstood beast? She felt slightly like Hagrid, trying to protect the creature, but frowned when she remembered how it had brutally attacked the ship. A misunderstood monster wouldn't have an army of inferi at its beck and call, would it? Nor would it set said inferi upon the crew… Hermione lost herself in thought, staring out the window, her fingers lightly drumming the table.
As much as the kraken interested her, another, more important aspect of the story kept swimming around in her mind. Garslov and Marianne's love – the love they had for each other had no bounds. Marianne had been affected by love so greatly that she had changed forms, and Garslov had loved Marianne so much that he had risked everything to get her back. Everything.
Would anybody do that for Hermione? Would she ever find anyone who would risk everything to be with her? She sighed miserably. How one person could be so unlucky in love, she had no idea. Hermione didn't enjoy pining over things she didn't have, but this had bothered her since Ron had dumped her. She had truly thought that they were going to eventually have gotten married – that turned out well.
Crack.
An unsteady Kyle suddenly apparated in front of her, looking dazed and wobbly.
Hermione snapped out of her thoughts and jumped up, catching him as he teetered ominously. "Kyle! Where have you been? You promised you'd check on me every hour and it's been almost three! It's past noon!"
Kyle looked at her with slightly unfocused eyes. It didn't take a genius to tell that Kyle had been drinking – he also smelled like it. When he spoke, the smell of alcohol overwhelmed Hermione and she had to lean back slightly.
"S-sorry, Herms," Kyle slurred. "Gotsa bit distracted!"
Hermione frowned. "I can see."
Kyle slumped against Hermione. "Met up with Pat, Tom and Drakey.. Some nice stuff… in that.. candy…"
Hermione groaned. Which candy shop sold alcohol? Kyle collapsed onto the wooden table, snoring loudly and his mouth wide open. He was out cold, and was barley past noon. Who drank this early anyways?
Hermione patted Kyle gently on the back, raising her head and meeting the eyes of the old woman apologetically. The kind lady smiled back, shaking her head, and approached Hermione and the sleeping form.
"Don't worry dear, you keep this little fellow here with me," the woman smiled kindly. "I'll wake him up in a few minutes."
Hermione smiled gratefully. "Thank you so much, ma'am! I'll only be a second!"
The woman shook her head once more in amusement as Hermione darted out the glass door of the shop.
***
The strong scent of the sea hit her nose almost as soon as Hermione stepped out of the small bookshelf. She could hear the sea in the distance, crashing against the shore, and she could hear the chirp of seagulls over the bustling street.
People, wizards and muggles alike, were jostling through the crowded street, yelling and shouting and stepping into shops. It was the liveliest street Hermione had been on since Diagon Alley, and she didn't remember the last time she had stepped there. People greeted each other in small stores set up on the cobblestone paths, and more expensive shops sat in the buildings that signaled the sides of the streets, although none of them reached over two stories high.
Hermione tried to remember what Kyle had told her about the directions to the candy shop – down the street and to the left or the right? She had been rather interested in starting to read, and she hadn't really been listening…
Hermione was jostled to the side by a particularly large man, and found herself in a small, shady alleyway that branched in-between two shops. The end of the little alleyway was blocked with a pile of rubble, ash and wood, and there was one big trashcan near the end of the alleyway. Trash littered the slightly damp cobblestone street; it was probably were everybody threw their garbage.
Hermione felt cut off from the rest of the world where she was standing; people simply walked past the sad little alleyway and the sounds of the street seemed to blend into the background. It was sunny, so it wasn't scary in the least. She turned and walked out of it, looking back once more.
She slipped back into the moving crowd. She carried on walking for a few more minutes, enjoying the small town's personality and soaking in the different shops and the smell of the ocean and fish. It felt good to be back on firm ground; although she had gotten used to the constant swell of the ship, after she had seen the kraken memory, she liked when she knew that nothing massive could be lurking underneath her feet.
The candy shop was a quaint little shop nestled between two empty-looking wooden buildings, where it stood out due to its odd colouring – it was painted a bright, fluorescent pink. There were a few scattered pink tables outside, but nobody was sitting there. Through two large glass panes that made up the front of the shop, Hermione could see an old, motherly woman ringing up a little girl's candy bag at the register.
It was slightly odd how the girl's mother was not there, or how both of the old woman and the little girl's faces were oddly blank, as if drawn without emotion. Oddly enough, the scene kept repeating as well; the little girl never seemed to actually buy the bag of candy and walk out of the shop. Come to think about it, there weren't even any other customers Hermione could see through the windows. She hesitated slightly, wanting to go in and get Draco and the rest, but she didn't really want to see Draco at the moment, did she? And the shop was giving her the chills for some reason…
Ten minutes of pacing later, Hermione knew there was something very off about this "candy shop" – the old woman was still ringing up the little girl's bag of candy and although they were moving, they would be completely still for a few seconds and then suddenly to a jerking movement, as if they had fallen asleep and woken up suddenly.
Hermione stepped closer to the glass, feeling nervous yet irritated at the same time. She wasn't too scared – people, although there were only a few, were still strolling by her and the odd little candy shop. She pressed her face up to the glass pane, expecting to see the woman and the girl inside. They were there, yet at the same time they weren't – it was an odd sight, and Hermione could see hazy figures moving behind the little girl and the old woman, as if someone had pasted two pictures together and made the top picture half see-through.
Pressing her ear to the glass, Hermione could hear a faint, pulsing beat. This was… this couldn't be… The reason why Kyle had smelt like a bar…? She reached for her wand before realizing that a muggle could be walking behind her and they would clearly see her performing magic. The ministry would be informed of magic being performed in front of a muggle and they would be upon them in minutes – Hermione's breath caught in her throat and she lifted her head away from the strange glass.
If the ministry was informed and they reached the port, Hermione could be rescued; she would tell them what had happened and they could take her away before the crew knew and she could have Snape remove the curse that Draco had put upon her and Ben; Snape had always been excellent with the Dark Arts. The crew were all busy and Kyle was inside the strange shop when he was supposed to be with her… She could hand in the notorious pirate ship at the same time, too, and she would be regarded with more praise than she could imagine, for leading the ministry straight to the ship they had been trying to capture for a long time now.
Her mind involuntarily flickered to a picture of Draco, standing proud, handsome and tall. Would he go down without a fight? Why did she feel a pang when she thought of him being overpowered by Aurors, forced to his knees? Would the ministry officials send for backup? The picture changed to one of Kyle and Sandy; they were so young, too young to be captured and forced to spend the rest of their lives in imprisonment.
Or she could try apparating; that would obviously be the easiest option – could she apparate across country borders, though? She had never tried that before – would it affect her apparation? Would she splinch? It was too risky to try it. However, she could always apparate a few miles, and continue apparating like that.
She felt a pang in her lower stomach and frowned. Apparating was out of the question for now; her stomach would not be able to take the usual tug and could possibly be dangerous. Hermione was just pulling out her wand, ready to cast a patronus at the next muggle who walked by, when a thought struck her that rendered her numb.
Did Hermione actually want to leave the ship? She remembered how happy she had been talking with the cook, Sandy and Kyle, and she remembered the injured Paul, lying on his deathbed. Draco had said that Paul had a wife and children too; how would they feel if he died? She gnawed at her lower lip, leaning against the glass and completely forgetting about the shop behind her.
She was having an internal struggle. Hermione wanted to go home, yes, achingly badly, but hadn't she just spent the last five months wishing for an adventure that didn't have anything to do with killing or death? And she had made a promise to herself, that she would help Paul and heal him. Hermione didn't like going back on her word, but she ached to see Maylline and Harry and, although grudgingly she admit it, she missed Ron a bit as well.
But you wouldn't see them anyways, she reminded herself. You're on your sabbatical, remember? You wanted to get away from everything, didn't you? No more public events or publicity… just wanted to lay low for a while…
Hermione breathed out harshly, picturing Paul and Kyle and Sandy.
I'll stay for them. Not for Draco. Draco has nothing to do with my decision.
She couldn't completely quash the thought that she had decided to stay for just Paul; a blond-haired somebody kept popping up in her list of reasons for not leaving. It would do no good to think about him since he obviously despised her… Groaning out loud, she tried not to remember the way they had kissed earlier.
Hermione turned, wanting very desperately to get away from the thoughts tumbling in her mind that consisted of her and Draco. Without a second thought, she pulled open the door of the odd candy shop. All she could see was darkness; everything was suddenly silent, like a giant muffler had been put over her ears. She felt the most peculiar sensation in her legs, like she was being dragged forward by her ankles. By the time she realized that she was being summoned by a complex bit of spellwork, Hermione had been dragged into the shop by an unseen force and the door slammed behind her.
The feeling she had on her ankles was slowly rising up her body, like she was being pulled in all different directions in the darkness. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation; it was rather tickling and Hermione knew that she wouldn't be harmed. However, she still reached around to grab her wand and get her some light.
The instant her fingers closed upon the wand handle, Hermione found herself lying in a heap on a dusty wooden floor, and harsh, glaring lights were blinding her.
"What-"
"Oh! A newbie!" an unfamiliar, female face swam into view, although it was hard to see while Hermione's eyes were adjusting to the harsh light.
She blinked a few times and pushed herself upright. When her vision finally completely returned, her eyes grew wide and she scrambled to her feet, looking around her and blushing.
She was in a small, long wooden changing room from what it looked like; there were seats facing mirrors and rows of costumes hanging off silver racks. This was not what took her off guard; it was the fact that five or six very scantily clad women surrounded her.
They all had huge breasts and extremely long legs. They were all dressed in the sluttiest school outfits that Hermione had ever seen; the blue pleated skirt barley covered half their asses and Hermione could easily see their black thongs. The white, buttoned shirts were tight, see through, buttoned down, and only came down to the undersite of their large boobs.
Hermione's mouth opened and then closed and then opened and closed once more; she was completely at a loss for words. Finally, she found her voice.
"What… who… where am I?" she demanded, not knowing where to place her eyes – these women were everywhere!
A sexy, blonde woman who had the longest legs Hermione had ever seen stepped up to her, laughing. "You're in Exotic Candy, silly!"
A beautiful redheaded woman added in, "The most exclusive club on this island!"
Hermione chose not to point out that the island was tiny, and probably held only one club, which meant being the most exclusive club wasn't the biggest feat in the world. She held her tongue as the girls continued to explain where, exactly, Hermione had turned up in.
"This club is huge, love, people come from all over the world to see it! The dance we're doing today is called the Schoolgirl; we're being schoolgirls!" a gorgeous, dark skinned beauty said.
"Our routine starts in about six minutes; the other girls are onstage right now doing some stupid mermaid dance or something. Once they finish, they go to do private dances, like lap dances and whatever the higher-paying men ask for."
Hermione stared, opened mouth, at the women and how easily they talked about being strippers and exotic dancers. So this was what Kyle was talking about when he said "candy shop". What a naughty boy… but this didn't explain why Hermione was here?
"Can I leave now?" Hermione asked nervously, scared of the answer. She reached behind her and clutched her wand, just in case.
A tall, sultry brunette swayed over to Hermione. "Of course she doesn't know! She's brand new. Well, dear, this is what happened. Every time a woman walks through the door, the door scans them and sees if they're fit for dancing. Then it sends them here, if it approves."
Hermione let out a nervous chuckle. "But doors can't – I don't – it wants me to what?"
The brunette laughed a low, sexy laugh. "Dance – just one or two dances! The boss put a really nice little spell on that door; it can also tell if you're too stuck up and need to just loosen up a bit!"
Hermione shook her head, bemused. How did she end up in these situations? It was absurd how she got herself into all these complicated circumstances. "Well, thank you for the offer but I'll just take my leave, thanks."
The redhead leaned to the blonde and whispered quite audibly, "She does need to loosen up!"
The blonde laughed genuinely and slung a slender arm over Hermione's shoulder. "Okay listen, dear, the door doesn't do this usually! It's giving you a once-in-a-lifetime chance to just let everything out, you know?"
"No," Hermione scowled, trying to wriggle out of the woman's grasp. She wanted out.
The dark-skinned woman brought a cup of hot coffee to her, from somewhere. "Here, sweetie. Just have a drink and think over it,"
Hermione noticed the sly look in the pretty woman's eyes and glanced down at the black coffee. The steam rising from it smelt strongly of something familiar, something only an experienced potion-maker would know… Hermione's eyes narrowed and she put the cup down. They had spiked it. With lust potion!
Of all the… of all the stupid, irresponsible things to do! Lust potion was exceedingly hard to make and could turn disastrous if brewed incorrectly; there had been severe cases of people in wizarding hospitals precisely for that reason. Not only that, but lust potion was illegal if given to someone who didn't want it – did these females read anything? Did they know anything about potions and the laws concerning them?!
Hermione scowled. Obviously not.
The dark skinned girl saw Hermione's look and seemed to shrink back guiltily. "Okay, you caught me, I did put something that drink." She didn't seem sorry in the least, just a tiny bit sheepish.
The blonde haired one sighed, removing her arm from Hermione's shoulders. "Listen, babe, you're so tense. You need to loosen up a bit! You know, go out and have fun. There's got to be someone in this club that'll catch your eye. You don't have to dance, but at least you can strike up a conversation, yeah?"
Hermione's scowl deepened. She didn't feel like explaining to these girls who, exactly, she was – she didn't need the publicity and she didn't want to seem like she was boasting. But she didn't think that they realized that she still had her wand and could stun all of them if she really wanted to.
"Okay, fine," Hermione sighed. "Let me out of this bloody room and I'll find a man to strike up a conversation with."
They all laughed and gave her reassuring pats on the back; Hermione couldn't help a small smile form on her face. How could anybody be happy with a job like this? Being a stripper, being an exotic dancer… being felt up by men all the time and the only way you received money was by dirty fingers pushing the bills into your skimpy clothing? How could anybody enjoy that?
Hermione sighed as they led her out the door, being swallowed by darkness again. A cool hand was guiding her, however, and the music was growing steadily louder. They'd be out in the open soon, and Hermione could slip out.
She suddenly remembered why she had gone to the candy shop in the first place, to find someone to help Kyle. She groaned mentally. Who could she find? Kyle had said that he had met up with three people, but the only name that had registered in her mind was 'Draco'.
So she had no choice to find Draco. In a sweaty, disgusting, bar. Full of horny men and half-dressed females.
What a blast.
***
Hermione gingerly picked her way through the mobbing crowd. They were around a stage at the end of the bar, where the six women she had met were dancing provocatively to cat-calls and wolf whistles. The lights were dim and the music was a heavy, pounding, pulsing beat that was exploding through Hermione's head. She could use her wand, but what if there were muggles in the club? She was too paranoid about getting caught doing magic in front of muggles for her own good.
When she finally got out of the jostling crowd, after getting several butt-slaps and cheeky leers, she found herself mentally and physically exhausted. Further past the crowd were booths, were groups of men sat and watched the dancers dance. They were round booths, were leather tables and cushioned seats, and from what Hermione could see, all the men seemed to be higher class – they were wearing suits or just as fancy clothes, and sipping fancy cocktails.
Women wearing blue, sparkly miniskirts, high green booths and sea-shell bikinis were serving them; this is what the other blonde haired woman had meant costume-wise when she said 'mermaid dance'. Hermione scanned the darkness. Where the hell was Draco? She wanted to find him and get out of this smoky club – it was an awkward place and she wasn't comfortable in the least.
Would accio work? She had never tried it on a person – and there couldn't be that many muggles in the club, could there? Plus, they wouldn't be able to see anything, could they? She glanced back at the stage and saw the women grinding against poles and shivered. What if she had drank that coffee? Would she be up there, dancing like a slut? Would she be shimmying and getting men to stuff bills in her bra?
A hand grasped her arm and she looked down in surprise. She had strayed too close to a booth and a man whose features she could barley distinguish in the dark was gripping her arm hard, leering. There were, as far as she could tell, three other men sitting in the round booth with him, all staring at her with interest.
"Why are you wearing so much, girly?" he breathed.
Hermione yanked her arm away, but the man's grip was strong. "I don't work here, but thank you."
The men laughed. Although the sound of the music was strong, they could hear each other clearly.
"What are you talkin' bout, babe? Of course you work here. Now come over here and let daddy take off some of your clothing!"
Hermione was seriously getting fed-up with people underestimating her. "Let bloody go of me! I don't work here and I need to do something!"
The men laughed again and the man gripping her gave her a tug, causing her to fall onto his lap. They burst into even more laughter as Hermione tried to struggle up, but his arms wrapped around her waist, pinning her on his lap.
"Come on sweetie, give me a little lap dance!"
Hermione had enough. She stopped struggling for a few seconds, and his grip loosened as he roared with laughter. She suddenly shoved her elbow back and as high as she could, and she felt it connect with the man's face with a satisfying thunk. He let out a stream of curses and unwrapped one arm from her stomach, batting her elbow away from his face. Exactly what she had expected; now she just needed to free his other arm without getting her free arm caught so she could reach her wand, and everything would be just dandy.
Hermione wasn't too terrified; she had been in situations like this before, especially when Ron and her had gone to the bar and he had gotten completely wasted, falling asleep. She would have to deal with drunk men and getting Ron home safely.
Because of her small stature, when she flung back her heel, it connected solidly with the man's shin. He let out a howl; Hermione had a rather powerful kick, and he shoved her off his lap quickly. She turned and slammed her now-free elbow into his crotch, which earned a strangled howl from the man. The other men sitting at the booth were harassed to help the first man and do something about the girl who had just beaten up their friend.
Hermione pulled out her wand, pointing it at the three men who were struggling to standing up from their places. The fourth was still rolling on the ground, clutching his goods. They pulled out their wands as well, and pointed them at her.
"You'll pay for what you did!" one man snapped.
"We're going to make you regret the day you were born!" another shouted.
A hand grasped her ankle and Hermione saw her previous captor had crawled over to where she stood. She lashed out with her foot, kicking him square in the eye and feeling a crunch under her foot.
The three men took action.
They all yelled a hex or jinx, aiming at Hermione. Hermione blocked one with a flick of her wand as two hexes sailed past her and disappeared into the crowd behind them; people immediately turned around and began yelling.
'Expelliarmus!" Hermione shouted. "Impedimenta!"
The disarming spell she cast bounced off a jinx thrown at her; they collided and spiraled off somewhere to the left, where she heard the crash of breaking glass. People were quickly beginning to realize what was happening; yells and confusion was passing quickly over everybody. The bright lights of the jinxes, curses, hexes the three men were casting were sailing into the crowd behind and around her, stunning people left and right.
A hex sailed over Hermione's shoulder; great, the crowd was joining in. More and more people began firing curses, and the club was suddenly filled with the light of spells flying overhead.
One stunning spell deflected off a random jinx and flew straight towards the stage, where it hit a blonde woman straight in the chest, sending her flying backwards into two other women. By now, everybody knew what was going on – a fight! Spells were being shot in every direction and shouting and yelling filled the club.
So much for watching out for muggles, Hermione thought dryly as she stunned a bearded man running past her by accident.
The three men had long been stunned; Hermione disarmed and hit two of them with well-aimed charms, but the last man had been hit by a stray hex that had sailed out of the roaring mob.
The bar had changed from a relaxed, sultry, dim-lighted place to relax to a throbbing mass of chaos. Stunned, cursed, jinxed and hexed men and women littered the floor around Hermione, along with beverages that had dropped, but more were still standing up and firing hexes at each other. Nobody knew what was going on and nobody knew who they were aiming at, they just knew that someone had stunned the person beside them and they didn't want to be next. Even the women on stage were participating – they had drawn wands from exceedingly tight places and were screaming curses into the crowd. Two were already sprawled, out cold, on the wooden floor of the stage.
The music had also begun a new, fast paced beat and the strobe lights were flashing wildly, which just added to everybody's confusion and the general chaos. Hermione felt a curse fly over her shoulder; it had narrowly missed her – she was extremely only problem was that she didn't know where to aim or where to even look, people were running and shouting and curses were being shot from every possible direction. The club/bar was too dimly lit, still, to be able to see where anything was, although occasionally a bright enough spell would shot past her and illuminate things for a split second.
Hermione dropped onto her knees after just barley deflecting a purple jinx, sending it flying into a heavy set man who immediately had pustules form all over his face. She crouched behind an overturned table, feeling glass shards press and liquids seep into the fabric of her slacks.
I really need new clothes, she thought detachedly from the chaos surrounding her. These clothes are way gross. Too bad I never learnt how to adjust my clothes from Padma or Romilda…
A curse slammed into the table, making it shudder. Hermione winced as the wooden underside of the table splintered into her hands, but she didn't want to move. Although Hermione was an excellent spell-caster, she didn't want to be in the darkness with enemies on all sides. Curses and jinxes were still flying overhead, and yelling and shouting was still clear in the air.
Hermione almost felt like laughing with the adrenaline that was coursing through her veins. She probably would have, if she hadn't realized what a serious situation she was really in. The damage, when the lights turned on, would probably be absolutely terrible, and there would be curious outsiders hearing the noise… People would be lying stunned on the floor. Maybe someone had gotten seriously injured, too.
As soon as the thought escaped her mind, the music was suddenly unplugged and large, fluorescent lights were flickering overhead.
"EVERYBODY STOP!" a voice bellowed, magically made louder and laced with rage.
Hermione glanced over the table and saw, with a heart-stopping wrench, that it was Draco himself who was standing atop a table not very far from her with his wand pointed to his throat, magnifying his voice. His face was absolutely furious; his eyes were flashing dangerously and his mouth was set in a grim, tight line.
As if hearing the power laced in his voice, the jinxes and hexes swiftly stopped. People were looking around in confusion, surveying the damage that had been done. The entire floor was covered was some kind of object, be it a body, shards of glass, unidentifiable broken objects, or pools of liquid. Tables had been blown apart, large shards of wood, glass and other objects were scattered around the floor. Half the fluorescent lights weren't working; they were hanging dangerously by a few chords, having probably been hit by stray jinxes. The walls of the club were covered in scorch marks and scratches, and some chunks of plaster had even crumbled to the floor.
"WHO… WHO STARTED THIS?" Draco roared. His free hand was clenched. "I HAD TO FUCKING STUN THE CLUB OWNER SO HE DIDN'T CALL THE FUCKING MINISTRY!"
Slowly, people's wands lowered and heads began looking at each other, peering around the room for anybody they recognized. Muttering began, buzzing around the destroyed club like flies. They were afraid to accuse each other, knowing that if they got the wrong person, another fight would break out. The women on the stage had all been stunned, and were lying slumped in awkward positions. Almost everyone still standing had scrapes or bruises or some kind of injury.
A large man with a purplish bruise over his face pointed at a man lying on the ground. Hermione glimpsed around the table the same man who had grabbed her and forced her to sit on him – yes; he had definitely been the one who started it.
"I'm pretty sure he started it!" the large man said, adding a hasty "sir".
Draco, radiating power and anger, leapt off the table and swiftly made his way on the sticky ground to the unconscious man. He was coming closer to Hermione, but she didn't want to see him – she crouched lower behind the table and hoped that he hadn't seen her. He was scary when he was like this, and Hermione did not want to face him at the moment, not after everything that had happened.
Others began muttering in agreement, happy to have someone to place the blame on.
"I think he cursed a lady who didn't want to give him what he wanted," another man wheezed. "I'm purrrty sure I saw a woman and him arguing."
The buzz of agreement grew louder.
Draco leant over the man and whispered rennervate harshly, lifting him up by his collar roughly. He blinked groggily, and everybody seemed to be holding their breath.
"Did you start this?!" Draco snapped.
The man seemed to snap out of his confusion; he gave a sort of strangled gasp and grabbed his balls as if protecting them. Hermione smirked silently, watching the exchange from the side of the table. The man had a large bruise around his eye, and Hermione felt another surge of pleasure that her kick had been so powerful. A smaller bruise adorned his cheek bone from where she had elbowed him.
"No! No, no!" the man garbled, struggling slightly. "I swear, no, it wasn't me, it was a woman, a lady I d-don't know!"
Draco's eyes snapped up and he scanned the crowd for 'a lady'. There were no females that hadn't been stunned or jinxed. Hermione crouched, behind the overturned table, hidden by the shadow it cast and another table that blocked her from general view. Hermione felt a pang of guilt. She should probably turn herself in, but she didn't want to be held responsible for the whole mess…
"Who was it?!" Draco hissed, giving him a shake.
"Some short, b-brown haired chick!" the man whimpered. "Said she was looking for someone! I d-didn't start it, I swear!"
Draco let go of the man's collar, sending him tumbling back to the floor, where he groaned once but lay still, probably disorientated again. Draco scanned the crowd silently, his eyes passing over the table Hermione was crouched behind twice. She held her breath each time.
Hermione dared peek out once, to stare at Draco. He was dressed in his usual black pants and white, button down shirt, but she was surprised to see it untucked and completely open, revealing a broad chest and a sculpted stomach that continued into a narrow waist and disappeared into black pants. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized the belt was undone and hanging loosely. What…?
Her answer came as a door she didn't even know was there opened to the far end of the club and a tall, beautiful woman sauntered out, wearing nothing but the tiniest black dress Hermione had ever seen.
"Draco, where'd you go? I was just beginning to have fun-" Her voice was low and husky, and almost everybody in the club turned to look at her in awe.
Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened at the sight in front of her; she had not been expecting a completely demolished club.
Hermione's heart froze over as the luscious woman slowly walked around to Draco and put her long, slender arm over his shoulders. She was gorgeous, with high, sculpted features and honey blonde hair. She was tall, but shorter than Draco. Together, standing together, they made the most beautiful couple Hermione had ever seen. The stunning woman must've been part-veela, because the men in the club were staring at her open-mouthed, entranced by her beauty.
"Melanie," Draco greeted roughly.
His features visibly relaxed as he scanned the crowd around him; Hermione noticed the woman purring words in his ear. Hermione felt her chest tighten. Had she ever affected him like that? Had her presence just relaxed him? Never.
Why am I so affected by this? Hermione snapped in her mind. It's not like he was ever mine to begin with. IT'S NOT LIKE I EVER WANTED HIM ANYWAYS!
She prepared to stand up and tell Draco that she had been the woman who the man had bothered, but as her head slowly emerged above the table, something caught her eye. The man who Draco had questioned was slowly pulling out his wand, his eyes trained on Draco. He had a fearful, confused look on his face, as if he believed his best shot at getting out of the mess was to stun Draco and then run.
He aimed at Draco and muttered something. Draco, whose eyes were on the other side of the room, suspected nothing. The crowd was just as oblivious, staring at Melanie, the beautiful woman, with awe.
"Expulso!"
"Expelliarmus!"
Two spells were fired at once. The man's disarming curse was feeble, slow and no match for Hermione's well aimed exploding spell, which swallowed the other spell with a shower of sparks and hit a surprisingly untouched bottle of wine rolling on the floor in front of the man. The bottle promptly exploded in the man's face, causing him to scream out as glass shards pierced his face.
Draco whipped around and stared at the moaning man, who had blood dripping down his face from a large gash above his eyebrow, thanks to a shard of glass. The bleeding man looked around blindly until his eyes met with Hermione's.
"YOU!" the man screamed, pointing his wand at Hermione and managing to look furious but extremely scared at the same time.
"What!" Hermione snapped.
"Who is she?" Melanie scoffed, taking in Hermione's rather unimpressive appearance.
Draco, however, was staring at Hermione in complete shock.
"Granger?" he said, his eyes flooding with emotion she could not name.
"You know her?" Melanie said, peering down her nose at Hermione who stood as proud as she could. Melanie seemed to be trying to forget about the destruction around her.
Hermione felt her stomach heaving but for some reason she felt like bursting into uncontrollable laughter. Did she actually just annihilate an entire club? Since when did the perfect Hermione Granger do this?
"Malfoy," Hermione said slowly.
Draco's head whipped from the bleeding man to Hermione and back to the bleeding man.
"She… you tried… to make her do something against her will?" Draco demanded, turning on the man.
The bleeding man gave Hermione the dirtiest stare he could, although his hands were warily protecting his crotch. "It's not that fucking big! The stupid slut just wouldn't give me a lap dance!" he snapped.
Draco, whose eyes had gone mysteriously dark and stormy, moved with astonishing speed. One second he was standing next to the beautiful woman, three paces away from the man, and the next second he was aiming a brutal kick into his side.
"Who the fuck do you think you are?!" Draco roared.
The man screamed as Draco mercilessly beat him, cowering behind his hands, pleading. "Please don't hurt me! Please!"
Melanie screamed and ran through the open door of the club, and a second later, the remaining men were following Melanie dumbly, and it was just Draco, Hermione, the bleeding man, and unconscious bodies.
"Stop it!" Hermione cried, not being able to stand Draco's assault. "Stop hurting him!"
Draco paused, looking up at Hermione. His eyes were laced with anger, the only emotion she was able to read. "YOU!" he roared. "You could've been killed!"
Hermione began backing away at his tone – it was livid and filled with uncontrollable anger. What was wrong? Why was he so angry -
He charged towards her and grabbed her wrist, turning on the spot. Hermione let out a hiss of pain as her stomach wrenched in pain, and her world went black.
***
Hermione awoke on a comfortable, white bed. The sheets were crisp under her fingers and the pillow was light and fluffy. A thin sheet was covering her, but it wasn't cold so it was all right. Light was blinking against her eyelids but she was blissfully content. She felt a comforting presence next to her, something that told her that she wouldn't be hurt, and that it would look after her always…
Her eyes snapped open and she found herself staring into the deep, stormy grey eyes that could only be found on one person's face. As a reflex, she shot up, slamming her forehead against his. Blinding pain.
"Fuck!" an unmistakable voice swore, and the face looming above hers swayed out of view.
"Owww!" Hermione groaned, falling back onto the pillow. "Merlin's beard!"
Draco Malfoy was sitting in a chair across from the bed she was laying on, rubbing his forehead and looking murderous. She checked her surroundings while trying to quell the pain. She was obviously in a motel room; it had the motel-smell and looked like a bedroom found in a cheap motel. The walls and the floors were all wood, and there was a little door at the end, which Hermione assumed led to the bathroom.
Hermione propped herself up on her elbows, feeling pain shoot up in her stomach and flare in her head, where she had slammed it against Draco's forehead. Draco. Her eyes involuntarily sought his out, but she only met his lowered head. He was sitting on the bed next to hers, his head in his hands, and long blond strands of hair framing his face.
He lifted his face and his eyes met hers, holding them in a unbreakable grip. The silence was tense and awkward, and Hermione gnawed her lip anxiously. Should she break the silence? Should she say something? What?
Fortunately and unfortunately, Draco broke the silence.
"What are you doing?" he said, his voice low and controlled. "Do you know what you're doing?"
"I'm not doing anything?" she replied stupidly, nervously.
Did I do something wrong? Why is he so mad at me? I'm not doing anything?
Draco stood up; turning away from her so all she could see was his back. When he spoke, his voice was so soft she could almost missed it.
"What are you doing to me?" he whispered. "What are you doing to me?"
Hermione's heart stopped and something erupted in her stomach, flooding up and obstructing her throat. No… she must've heard wrong… there was no possible way Draco Malfoy just admitted what she thought he had, was there?
"What?" Hermione said, her voice strained and just as soft. "What?"
Draco turned back, and Hermione saw something flash in his eyes as they caught her gaze, and they just stared at each other for a while. Draco completely ignored her question, finally speaking.
"Why are you still on my ship?" he asked, but his tone wasn't harsh, just curiously thoughtful. "Why are you still here? You've done possibly everything wrong, you've had over three chances to escape – yes, I've been counting – but you haven't left. You've poisoned yourself, you learnt about a monster you never knew about, and you've completely destroyed a club."
Hermione lifted her chin in defiance. "I want to help heal Paul," she said slowly. "I promised I would and I don't break promises."
He looked at her as if seeing her in a whole new light before turning away thoughtfully. "You destroyed a whole club, and you hardly got a scratch."
Hermione found his incredulously surprised yet slightly impressed voice extremely hilarious, and her face broke out into a sheepish grin. "I did obliterate that club, didn't I? I didn't mean for anything to get that far. I just wanted that man to let go of me…"
Draco turned and faced her, and she was surprised to see his own lips quirking in a small smile. "You can only imagine what I felt like when I came outside and everything was chaotic, curses flying everywhere and people yelling and shouting."
Hermione couldn't help a little chuckle escape her lips. "And the look of that man after I dealt with him."
Draco's smile grew more pronounced, and it took Hermione's breath away. He was handsome when he was scowling, but when he smiled, it was absolutely angelic. It lit up all his features beautifully, making everything around him seem to dull in comparison. Hermione had never, ever seen this kind of smile on Draco before.
"You got had me tied with worry," he said softly, his lips still pulled up in that smile, although now it was laced with a twisted sadness, as if he didn't want to acknowledge what he had just said. "I was so worried you had been hurt…"
Hermione's heart stuttered painfully for the second time that hour, and a brilliant smile stretched slowly over her features, one she couldn't control. He cared for her. He really, truly did. Although it was just a tiny little confession, it felt like the world coming from Draco Malfoy. He was being so kind, so gentle. It explained everything; the relief when he hadn't seen her unconscious body lying in the club, the way he had been so furious at her for putting herself in danger…
Slowly, laughter – joyous, happy laughter bubbled up in Hermione's stomach and leaked out her throat; laughter at the unbelievable situation she found herself in. She was on an island she had never heard of, stuck on Draco Malfoy's ship, she started a fight in a club, which ended up with the whole thing being destroyed, and she felt butterflies in her stomach every time her ex-arch enemy spoke.
The laughter wouldn't stop, and soon Draco's sad, twisted smile was replaced with one of laid-back happiness as Hermione's breathless laughter filled the room. With the small gesture of contentment in his presence, the tense relationship between captor and captive changed. Something was eased out between them, as if seven years of hating each other was suddenly wiped off the slate; they were ready to start again.
And Draco wouldn't admit it, of course, but he found himself lost in the sound of Hermione's laughter. He held her in his eyes with a whole new perspective.
Hermione knew then that she couldn't be mad at him. The thought of the beautiful Melanie and the fact that Draco made her so angry was still in the back of her mind, and her doubts were still strong and fresh. But for some reason, Hermione wanted more than anything to get to know him better, and if taking it step by step she would be able to do that – well, she wouldn't ask for anything more.
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Reviews
Boylover19: Here's your chapter (: and I hope you liked it.
.Poisoned Scarlet.: Aw shucks :] well I came upon this awesome picture of a kraken, I'll see if I can put it up on my account or something. Here's your update, and I'm sorry it's so late. Hope you still liked it though :\
BroadwayNightOwl: AHH yes I know, right!? :D Oh yes, Draco is heartless, but that's the way I always saw his character, you know? Never being really the tender one… but I'm trying to get him to be gentle without making him suddenly switch personalities. I'm not sure it's quite working but I'm trying my best :P
Lya Darkfury: Hahhah thank you! I was thinking about making it a sex scene, until I remembered that I honestly have no clue how to write one of those and plus, what would happen after? I'm not sure how they would treat each other if they had confused-feeling-sex and I sort of have an outline that has no sex until they actually realize they're falling for each other, haha. And plus, sucking out poison doesn't seem that much of a turn-on, you know? Thank you (:
Aerde: Thank you thank you! I love jealousy. It's such a fun feeling to write about, seeing as I'm rather used to the feeling, haha. No problem about the son, I say that sometimes. Like, WHADDUP SON (please don't think I'm too weird).
Jade2099: Thank you thank you! And I really have no clue I kind write as it comes with me, tweaking ideas here and there.. I hope it all works out but it's all up to my little muse, haha. Thank you anyways!
In Dreams: Thank youu (: the kraken doesn't have much of a appearance in this chapter, but there will be soon.
Tyrande Whisperwind: Thank you! And I do love cliffhangers (: but I think I ended this chapter on a nice note, and I hope you like it.
Xxkandyangelxx: Thank you father (get it, you called me "son" so I call you father) Yes I know it was probably a typo but I'm in a weird/good mood now. Here (:
Red24ly: Thank you thank you thank you and here is your update, sorry it took so long I hope it meets standards!
Cat18: Yes, I do love kind Draco (: here is the next chapter, I hope you enjoyed it!
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THANK YOU EVERYBODY.