A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry for the late update, I really am trying to update more regularly but work is crazy at the minute - the joys of being an adult haha. But here is the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it.

Thanks for all the reads and reviews so far, you guys are awesome!

xBx

Chapter VII

Hermione was relieved from the crow's nest not long after the sun had set; her descent to the deck was nowhere near as smooth as Anderson's had been, but she managed to land on her two feet at least. Henry was waiting for her at the foot of the mast. He didn't say anything, but held out his hand, fist clenched around something. Hermione looked at him in confusion, but still he didn't speak. He simply motioned with his closed fist that he had something to give her. Equally silent, Hermione held out a hand and Henry dropped five shillings into her open palm. Hermione grinned, but Henry turned and walked away before she could say anything.

From that day, Henry took more of an interest in Hermione, and likewise Draco since they were never far from each other's sides, and he was soon reminded as to why he had agreed to bring them along in the first place. Every now and then, Hermione and Draco would be invited to drink with the captain in his cabin. At first, the conversation was general, but one evening when the table was scattered with maps and charts, Hermione took an adamant interest and Henry began teaching them the finer points of navigation and course plotting.

After a couple of months at sea, sailing in an out of half a dozen ports, Hermione and Draco had finally earnt their place as accepted and respected members of the crew. They were beginning to know the others on an equal level; they were no longer regarded as the highborn runaways they were pretending to be, now they were merchant sailors and privateers just like the rest. There was a comradery and trust among them now, that meant Hermione had no qualms at sleeping alone which began to happen more often as both were expected to take night shifts from time to time, which meant they were now catching sleep at different times.

On one of Draco's first night shifts he had drawn the short straw, and had spent the night up in the crow's nest. Come dawn, Hermione decided not to breakfast with the other crew below decks, instead she brought a healthy portion of bread and porridge to share with Draco up on deck. It took her a few moments to locate him, but eventually she spotted him swinging his way down from up on high.

"Good morning, sailor!" Hermione called out cheerily, as Draco landed smoothly on deck.

"Morning," he smiled back, sleepily. "Don't you look fancy, today. What's the occasion?" He asked with a smirk. Hermione was wearing her blue coat for the first time; until now she had continued with the brown.

"Truthfully, I have got about as much wear out of the brown one as I can for now – there are only so many cleaning charms one can use. It is in dire need of a physical wash, so I'm going blue for a while. I brought breakfast," she smiled, holding up her provisions.

"Thank you," he smiled, taking the offerings from her and moving toward the nearest pile of canvas and ropes where he took a seat. "Any chance there is coffee in here?" he asked wistfully, giving the flask a little shake, and Hermione laughed.

"I'm afraid not," Hermione said sympathetically as she sat down beside him. "You'll have to cope with rum."

"Rum?" Draco raised his eyebrows and grinned. "A little early, isn't it? Pirate," he teased.

"Well, the water is starting to taste a little funny," Hermione explained. "I keep putting a purifying charm on it whenever I can, but until we refresh our provisions at the next port, I would suggest Rum is going to be healthier than water for now."

Draco chuckled, and shook his head, before taking a swig.

"I miss good coffee," Draco sighed.

"Yeah," Hermione sighed, leaning back and looking wistfully ahead. "I miss many things – acceptable standards of personal hygiene for starters."

Draco snorted. "It's not that bad," he began to defend.

"Have you lost your sense of smell?" Hermione looked at him incredulously. "Seriously, you need to bathe."

"Oh, and you don't?" Draco teased her. "Let me remind you that we have the same personal routine – if I need to bathe then so do you."

Hermione rolled her eyes at his antagonism. "Honestly, of all the people to get stuck here with, I had to end up with you," She jokingly complained, and Draco laughed again.

"You say that, but I know you're secretly glad it's me," he teased. "There are far worse people you could have been saddled with."

Hermione gave a non-comital shrug, "I guess so. But come on, I'm sure there are other people you would much prefer to be stuck here with, over me."

Draco thought for a moment as he slowly chewed his bread. "Honestly? No," He admitted, much to Hermione's surprise. "We work well together; you have a logical mind, you're always focused, and you're the brightest witch of our generation. We need brains on this adventure, if we're going to ever get home. And you're not easily overwhelmed either, which is also useful considering what we've got ourselves into."

"I don't know about that last one - I was nearly overcome with panic when we first got here," Hermione reminded him.

"It was a massive shock to the system – and being stuck in a tiny cave with no apparent way out, is possibly the worst place to ever wake up," Draco countered. "You appear to be coping much better now. No, I stick by what I said – anyone else would have probably given up by now. Of course, I'm sure you would much prefer the company of Potty or the Weasel though," He added with a smirk.

Hermione glared at Draco, causing him to roll his eyes and sigh, "fine: Potter and Weasley."

Hermione thought for a moment, giving his assumption as much serious thought as he had appeared to give to hers.

"Actually, in all honesty, probably not," she admitted, leaning back into the canvas and staring ahead without seeing. "Don't get me wrong, they're my best friends and I love them, but they can be self-destructive nightmares at times. And this would have easily distracted them – if they were here they would have become pirates within days, thinking it a grand adventure, and I'd inevitably be dragged down with them in my attempts to save them," she mused with an indulging smile. "We'd probably never get back to our time, because we'd be too busy trying to just stay alive instead of trying to find a way home, then we'd die and be remembered in infamy."

"Not a bad way to be remembered," Draco shrugged, and Hermione laughed.

"No," Hermione admitted. "But I'd rather live and go home. So yes, I'm glad you're here – I have a much better chance of succeeding with you; like you said, we're a good team."

"You know, we might not get back either," Draco admitted after a few moments of thought. "Just because we're geniuses, doesn't mean we can do this."

"I know."

"We could be stuck here together; we could end up living out the rest of lives here. Are you so sure now that you wouldn't prefer to be in this, sailing off into the sunset, with your Weasley, instead of me?" There was something in Draco's voice that seemed to hint at something deeper in his meaning, but Hermione wasn't entirely sure what he was asking.

"He's not my Weasley, not anymore," Hermione explained patiently, deciding to address the part of his question that she fully understood and setting the record straight.

Draco had known when their relationship had ended, but other than relaying that piece of information Hermione had never really spoken to him about her break-up.

"We split a couple of years ago; we're much better as friends. Towards the end all we did was argue, but not in the same way as we did when we were just friends. The love was starting to turn bitter, and if we stayed together much longer it would have turned to hate. It was hard at first," Hermione admitted. She could feel Draco watching her, but she kept her eyes cast down on her hands as she fiddled with her coat. "We couldn't even be in the same room for months, and then it took a year for us to able to talk to each other properly. We're back to our old selves now though – or at least, as much as we can be after everything. But no, to answer your question, I wouldn't prefer to be here with him." She looked up at Draco now, who was still watching her, listening carefully to her every word.

"No," Hermione reiterated. "I'm glad I'm here with you; I wouldn't want to be here with anyone else."

There was something in her voice which added a deeper meaning to her words. Hermione wasn't entirely sure what she was actually admitting to when she admitted this sentiment, all she knew was that it was a truth.

"Likewise," Draco said softly. His tone echoed hers, and so it seemed did his sentiments. Although, like Hermione, Draco wasn't quite sure what he was admitting to. The only thing that was certain to both of them, was that a line was seemingly about to be crossed in their relationship.

They looked at each other in silence for a moment, suddenly both very aware of their proximity. Of their own accord, Hermione's eyes flickered briefly down to Draco's lips, snapping back up in time to see that Draco had echoed her movements, and without realising what they were doing, Hermione and Draco leaned closer.

"There you are, Ana!" They were interrupted then, by Anderson, who stopped short when Hermione and Draco jumped apart. Anderson grinned a little when he realised that he may have just interrupted something he shouldn't have.

"Apologies, I didn't mean to interrupt you," he grinned.

"Don't know what you're talking about," Hermione said, jumping to her feet and trying to remain nonchalant. "What do you need?"

Anderson had come to rope her into assisting with swabbing the deck - one of the least glamorous jobs to be done, but necessary. There was a brief moment of awkwardness, and a lingering look, between Draco and Hermione before they went their separate way, both fully aware of what would have happened if they had not been interrupted. It was over in an instant, however, and they smiled in parting as Hermione moved aft, while Draco went below to catch up on sleep.

They were now sailing into Caribbean waters, which meant the days were longer, the weather warmer, and the experience much more enjoyable compared to those first few icy weeks at sea. The waters were relatively calmer for the most part, except when they came upon the odd unavoidable storm, but on calm days when the wind was with them, sailing was a breeze. On such days, it was not uncommon to spend hours at a time wandering serenely around the deck, our lounging about in easy conversation, playing at dice or cards, and slowly making their way through their supply of rum – a small canteen of which Hermione now kept at her waist along with the compass, a dagger, and a cutlass. The trading routes they were now sailing covered dangerous waters; pirates, struggling privateers, and down-on-their-luck merchants all traversed these ways too, and Captain Morgan liked to ensure his crew was ready to fight if the occasion called for it, and even when they made port they never let their guard down. So far, it had been relatively smooth sailing, but Hermione liked the feel of steel at her hip all the same, and it made the adventure that little more exciting.

By Henry's reckoning, they were almost at Nassau, for which Hermione was thankful. They had been at sea for a month now, and the entire crew were in desperate need of a good bath, herself included – there was only so much a bowl of water and cleaning charms could do to keep one clean. The afternoon before their expected arrival at port, Hermione was enjoying a respite on deck, lounging back in the sun and revelling in the sounds of sailing at sea that had become comforting to her now. Henry Morgan had been making his usual round of the deck, ensuring things were running smoothly, and he now stopped by Hermione. Pulling up an empty barrel, he joined her in her respite as he had done a few times before, and began an easy conversation.

"Only another night until we set foot land once more," he commented. "You must be relieved."

"My nose certainly is," Hermione smirked. "I'm sure everyone's sense of smell will get some relief when we finally bathe again. But other than that – I like the comforts of dry land like everyone does, but I really am enjoying being at sea, and I'm always eager to set sail again."

"Truly?" Henry asked, clearly surprised. "I mean, I know you're doing well on board, and appear to enjoy the life. But I would have expected you to infinitely prefer the comforts accessible to one of your status. I thought you would ultimately pick land over sea, any day."

"What can I say? I am just full of surprises," Hermione laughed. She took the flask from her belt and took a sip of the rum, before offering it to her captain. Henry took the flask with a smile of thanks.

"That you are," Henry agreed, before taking a swig and handing the rum back.

"Besides, there are still things for me to learn. Apparently, Alaric has been taking lessons at the helm, during his night shifts," Hermione mentioned.

"And is he not sharing his knowledge with you?" Henry mocked. "He seems to share everything else."

Hermione laughed. "He likes to keep some things close to the chest, gives him that superiority," she joked.

"Steering a ship is simple, if you know how," Henry said. "The sails do most of the work, the helmsman is just there to keep her on course. Come on," Henry said suddenly, getting to his feet and holding a hand out to help Hermione to hers.

"Where are we going?" she asked, allowing Henry to pull her up.

"To the helm. You've learnt everything else quick enough, you may as well give this a go too," Henry informed her. "And I'm starting to know you well - you'll end up getting someone to show you how eventually, you may as well get taught by the best."

Hermione followed willingly, laughing at Henry's downplayed arrogance, unaware they were being carefully watched, and had been for some time. Draco had drawn lookout duty this afternoon, he had been up in the crow's nest for a few hours now, and was to remain there until sunset.

He liked it up here, it was quiet and peaceful, and even though he was supposed to be keeping an eye on the horizon for the appearance of ships or land, every now and then he liked to let his eyes wander down over crew to watch them going about their daily routines. He had looked down again five minutes ago, and his sweeping gaze had alighted on Hermione where she was lounging nonchalantly among a pile of canvas and ropes. Henry was sat opposite her, perched on a barrel, and the pair appeared to be in easy conversation, laughing and drinking, until Henry suddenly stood and helped Hermione to her feet.

Draco watched them move toward the back of the ship, and up to the helm, where Henry relieved Shaw from his duties. Shaw moved off to the side, to lean against the side as he watched Hermione and Henry, almost as intently as Draco was.

Henry beckoned for Hermione to move in front of him, to place herself firmly at the wheel. Henry sidestepped away only slightly; he was half a step behind Hermione's shoulder, with one hand on the wheel. He must have told Hermione to take a hold of the wheel likewise, for a second later she tentatively wrapped a hand around a handle, her pose a now a mirror of Henry's. Draco watched as Henry pulled out his compass and held it open in front of them, so that Hermione could see it clearly, all the while talking – though what he was saying could not be heard all the way up in the crow's nest.

Henry transferred the compass into Hermione's free hand so that he could point to it, before pointing out to sea a little towards their right. All the while, Hermione listened intently, her gaze shifting from his face to follow where he pointed, before returning her gaze back to Henry. Henry moved the wheel slightly, all the while explaining things to Hermione, as she nodded along. He must have asked her a question then, for she looked to be in careful contemplation for a moment, before responding. Henry smiled slightly, and nodded, which resulted in Hermione grinning – whatever she had responded must have been the right answer.

Henry barked out a command, and two men sprang into action to adjust the mainmast as Draco turned away from the scenes below to gaze thoughtfully back out to sea. Once again, it appeared he was experiencing the slight pangs of jealously; from his vantage point, Henry and Hermione had looked incredibly close and comfortable at the helm, creating somewhat of a romantic tableau. Draco had thought that he and Hermione had been toying with the boundaries of their professional relationship and tentative friendship; being here, in their current situation, had changed their dynamic somewhat, and there was a tension there that had never been explored before. Or at least, he had thought so – maybe Alara had been mistaken in her parting whispered words, and he was just reading into something that wasn't there. One thing he was certain of though, was that Henry was becoming partial to Hermione's company more and more. And from what he had seen, it appeared Hermione did not seem to object.

Down at the helm, Henry was trying to get Hermione to think less and feel more:

"Feel the difference?" Henry asked, and Hermione chewed her lip. She wanted to say yes, but she really didn't feel anything different at all. Henry laughed – apparently her slight confusion was plainly visible on her face.

"Close your eyes," Henry suggested.

"What will that accomplish?" Hermione asked sceptically. "Don't I need to see what's happening and where we're going?"

"No, you need to feel it," Henry countered. "Trust me. Take the wheel, and close your eyes. Forget everything else for now – one thing at a time."

Hermione did as she was bid, taking a deep, calming breath as she accustomed herself to sailing blind, and listened to Henry's instructions.

"Feel the deck beneath your feet – don't tense up, relax into the movements. Feel the ships movements, feel every lull as we push through the currents and the drifts. Feel it move with the tug of the wind in the sails." His voice softened, until he trailed off and Hermione lost herself in the movement of the ship, feeling every rock and every roll.

She felt Henry move the wheel to the left and for the first time she felt the ship's subtle response. She smiled as she opened her eyes to see Henry smiling down at her.

"Feel that?" he asked, though he already knew the answer, and Hermione nodded.

Hermione remained at the helm for a while longer, under Henry's instruction, learning how to read the ships movements, and the subtle intricacies of the relationship between rudder, masts, and sails that was in continuous motion to utilise the wind and keep the vessel on track.

Come sunset there were other things to be done; Henry retired to his cabin with some others to go organise the necessary papers that would be needed tomorrow when they made port, and Hermione reluctantly left the helm. She had spotted Draco coming down from the crow's nest not long ago, and she moved toward the bow where Draco was now leaning against the side looking out into the gathering darkness.

"How was the sunset from up on high?" Hermione called out in greeting, as she came to stand beside him and lean into a mirroring pose.

"Same as usual I suppose." He looked at her and couldn't help but smile a little at the contentment radiating from her, despite his own lingering annoyance.

"We should be coming into Nassau early tomorrow," Hermione commented. She gave a wistful sigh of expectation. "A proper bed, and a bath. And fresh – well, fresher food. I'm looking forward to that. Oh, and ale," she grinned as an afterthought.

Draco couldn't help but laugh at her happy longing.

"Since when were you an ale drinker?"

"Since we found ourselves in the 1600's and Corona was no longer available to me," Hermione joked, which made Draco laugh even more.

"I always had you pegged for a cocktail kind of girl – I don't think I've seen you knock back a beer in my life," he teased.

"That's because you only ever drink with me at a bar, where I will always indulge in a French Martini," Hermione agreed. "But at home, after a long day, I'm too lazy to make them myself, so I settle for the bottle of corona."

Draco laughed again, and the pair fell into a comfortable silence. Hermione gazed out into the darkness, watching the light from the lanterns flickering over the wake created as their vessel plunged through the water. A small serene smile, that had been a constant presence for weeks now, played on her lips, and she was completely unaware that Draco was watching her thoughtfully.

"You're really enjoying yourself here, aren't you?" he asked eventually.

Hermione turned to look at him, still smiling. "Aren't you?"

"For the most part," Draco admitted. "Not as much as you, I don't think. I'm still determined to find a way back," he added quietly.

"So am I," Hermione said carefully, suddenly frowning, confused at the chill creeping into his tone.

"Are you, really?" Draco turned to face her squarely.

"Of course," Hermione started, but Draco interrupted.

"Because you seem much happier now; less concerned with getting back. You haven't obsessed about the time-turner in weeks now."

"Because there is nothing more we can do with it now, not until we meet Harriet. But yes, I am happier – well, more content, anyway," Hermione admitted. Draco nodded at the confirmation, clenching his jaw as he turned back to look out to sea.

"I'm getting used to being here," Hermione explained. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to go home. It's just that – well, like you said: there is always going to be that possibility that we may not be able to get back."

Hermione sighed and turned from the rail to lean back against it. She looked out across the deck, her eyes scanning the crew and resting a little longer on those who she had become closest to during the voyage, including Anderson, Shaw, and Captain Morgan. Draco twisted around to watch her closely, his own eyes narrowing and he followed her lingering gaze.

"If we don't make it back," Hermione continued with a smile. "Well, there are far worse places to live out your life, than here, I think."

"If you're so happy to stay, why bother trying to leave at all?" Draco asked coolly, looking away from her once more, a hint of bitterness creeping into his tone. "You can be Morgan's right-hand woman – he'd be more than happy to accommodate you, I'm sure."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione frowned, turning to look at him, confused at the sudden chilliness in his voice.

"Nothing at all," Draco said with a tone of false airiness that told Hermione he meant plenty, he just wasn't going to be explicit.

"You two have grown pretty close, that's all: He's been putting in a lot of time and effort with you lately," Draco mused suggestively.

"With you as well," Hermione reminded him calmly, refusing to take the bait. "He's taken the time to teach us both – charting, navigating, fighting,"

"I'm not the one he's getting cosy with at the helm though. Under the pretence of a steering lesson, I'm sure," Draco said bluntly, still refusing to look at Hermione. "It's one thing for him to be showing partiality, but you probably shouldn't be openly returning the interest considering you're supposed to be betrothed to me, remember?"

"Are you jealous?" Hermione teased with a laugh, not really believing it to be so, but trying to lighten the conversation a little. "Is that what this is?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Draco snapped, finally glancing at Hermione with a scathing look. "I'm just reminding you that we have had to engage in this bloody cover story about why we're travelling alone together, the least you can do is stand by the charade."

"I am standing by it," Hermione defended. "But we really only needed that story when we were travelling as part of the King's court, where rules of etiquette are strictly adhered to. For the most part. But we're in the Caribbean, we're merchant sailors now, I think we can relax on the story a little – no one really cares here," she smiled "We can just be ourselves."

"Ok then," Draco said emotionlessly, after a second of quiet thought. He pushed himself off from the side and turned to walk away, without giving Hermione a glance.

"Alaric!" Hermione called after him, confused about his sudden sullenness.

"I'm on deck for the night," he called back to her without stopping or turning around. "I'll see you in the morning."

Hermione watched him walk away with a frown, at a loss to know how their conversation soured so quickly, or for what possible reason. She sighed and made her way below deck in search of food; she wasn't going to figure out the inner workings of Draco's mind any time soon, and obsessing over it wasn't going to help. He was probably just tired, and in need of some land-based comforts – he'd be fine once they reached Nassau.

The first sight of land came just after dawn, and they sailed into Nassau port by mid-morning. The bustle of making port - and the unloading and trading of goods that came along with it – kept them busy for most of the day; it was late afternoon by the time they were done, and they finally set foot on dry land, and into a tavern.

It appeared Henry frequented this particular tavern regularly on his trading routes, for they were greeted warmly upon their entrance. Food and ale were rustled up quickly to feed them all, and rooms provided for those who wanted. As was their usual custom, Hermione arranged for a room that she would share with Draco, and requested a bath tub to be sent up to the room and filled. While she waited for her request to be fulfilled, she settled down at the table to eat and drink with the rest of the crew.

Despite the crew's exhaustion, their spirits always rallied their first evening on land; Hermione was seated close to Henry and Jon Anderson, as had become her custom, and was happily joining in the rather raucous, bawdy banter with animation and good grace. Draco was sat a little away from her, and while he joined in the conversation every now and then, he was a little more sombre than usual. Despite being seated away from him, Hermione's eyes were often drawn to him; since that first near kiss nearly a month ago there had been a palpable tension between them that had continued to grow. The nature of ship life meant they barely got any time alone, however, so any awkward conversations they might have had were easily avoided. Instead they continued on as normal, for the most part – there were the odd lingering looks every now and then, and innocent touches here and there that were held perhaps a little longer than necessary, but they both seemed to be doing their best to avoid these new emotions simmering below the surface.

Every now and then, when Hermione glanced in Draco's direction and he happened to be looking at her, her smile softened and his own discontent seemed to lift slightly. But as the ale flowed, and the banter became lewder, Draco's attention began to wander from the table and out over the rest of the tavern. Hermione followed his gaze, and her eyes rested on one of the wenches traversing the floor. She was fairly pretty, and was eyeing Draco with keen interest. Hermione's eyes flickered between Draco and the wench, watching them watch each other with stirrings of discontent. The woman must have felt Hemrione's gaze upon her, for soon after, their eyes met briefly; Hermine gave her a small, stiff, smile before hastily withdrawing her attention back to her comrades. She forced herself to remain solely focused on the men with whom she sat with, joining in the jests just as animatedly as before, but she couldn't stop herself from glancing over at Draco every now and then, who was now sat drinking with a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

Before she could pay too much mind to the reasons for his smirk, Hermione was notified that the bath she had requested was ready for her in her room.

"If you'll excuse me gentlemen," she declared, rising from the table and swinging her pack over her shoulder. "It's time for me to truly re-enter civilisation. And I suggest you all find time to bathe likewise, if you're intending to have any luck with the ladies of this establishment – no offence but your collective stench is overwhelming," she joked.

"You don't exactly smell like a rose," young Thompson teased.

"Which is why I'm going to bathe! But by all means, remain as you are," Hermione goaded with a wicked grin. "And when I come back down, I'll have all the ladies to myself!" Her remark was met a boisterous cheer as she disappeared upstairs with casual wave of dismissal, leaving the men to consume the free-flowing ale. No doubt they would be even more intoxicated by the time she re-joined them.

The room that had been prepared for her was modest, but comfortable: a double bed took up most of the room, but a copper tub had been squeezed into the space at the foot of the bed, leaving just enough room for a slight person to traverse the boards between the two. She unpacked her limited belongs, laying fresh clothes out on the bed to change into after bathing, and leaving the dirty garments in a heap on the floor. She removed her wand, compass, and the time-turner remnants from her person and tucked them carefully into the red coat she would later wear, safely out of sight from the chamber maid who had just returned with a bucket of fresh water Hermione had requested for washing her hair that was full of salt after the long voyage, and the sea air had left it dry and coarse.

Hermione stepped behind the privacy screen that hid the tub from the doorway, discarded the rest of her clothes onto the pile of salt-stained garments, and stepped into the waiting hot water. Bathing in the seventeenth century was not a private affair, and while it had taken some getting used to at first, Hermione now leaned back in the water without hesitation, and let the chambermaid go about her business of rinsing the salt from Hermione's hair and conditioning it with a selection of oils at Hermione's instruction. When she was done with the hair, the chambermaid took up the pile of laundry and left Hermione to soak alone, only returning once more to bring back Hermione's freshly washed clothing, and hanging it in front of the fire to dry out.

By the time she returned to the main room below, refreshed and crisply dressed in her black breeches and red coat with her cutlass at her waist, nearly all the men were well into their cups. Her eyes found Draco immediately, and a sudden surge of jealousy rattled her without warning. He was apart from the rest of the group, one had grasping his tankard, the other resting around the waist of the tavern wench he'd been watching earlier who was now perched on his lap.

Hermione tried to quell the unpleasant sensations she was feeling as she walked purposefully towards Draco. She stood over him in silence, looking down at him where he sat with a small, cold, smile.

"May I help you?" he drawled, eventually looking up.

"I'm done with our room, for now," Hermione said simply, dangling the key in front of him. "The maid is preparing a bath for you. I suggest you use it, you stink."

"I'm a little busy right now."

"You're a little drunk right now," she countered, hearing his voice properly.

"Maybe," Draco conceded. "Doesn't make me any less busy."

"Could you excuse us for a moment?" Hermione said to the girl, without breaking eye-contact with Draco.

"But-" she started to protest with a coy smile.

"Please," Hermione stressed, sounding more threatening than polite. The girl disengaged herself when she saw Hermione's hand flutter over the hilt of her sword.

"That wasn't very friendly," Draco commented, taking a large drink.

"I think you were being friendly enough for the both of us,"

"What's the matter? Jealous?" Draco smirked.

"Are you trying to make a point here?" Hermione asked, starting to get the impression that Draco's current actions were a response to their confusing disagreement the evening before, and geting irate. "What are you doing?"

"Being myself," he said with a bitter smile, standing up to face Hermione square on, and confirming her suspicion. "That's what we're doing now right? Being ourselves? We're not worrying about the story now, because whatever Alara might have said, it really was just a story."

"Alara?" Hermione repeated. "What does she-? What do you mean, 'what she said'?"

"When we were saying goodbye," Draco rambled. "She told me – never mind, she was wrong anyway. Our story was a story, and we're not sticking to it anymore – I don't know why you're getting mad, you started it."

"I started?" Hermione repeated incredulously. "This is about yesterday, isn't it? Is this you getting back at me, for your over-active imagination? I told you that was nothing! You know what," Hermione stopped in her defence when Draco scoffed. "I'm not having this conversation with you while you're in this state – you're not going to listen to a word I say, and I'm in no humour to give attention to your petulant games."

She slammed the key into his chest, and Draco grabbed it instinctively.

"Do everyone a favour: go bathe and sober up. I'll sleep on the ship tonight, you can bring my things with you back to the docks in the morning."

Hermione turned on her heels and walked out of the tavern and into the night, leaving Draco standing alone. He felt a sense of satisfaction at having wound her up – whatever she may have said, she had been jealous, Draco was sure of it, and this pleased him.

"I'm sorry," a voice said behind him. He turned to see the woman he had been entertaining, when Hermione had approached him, hovering close by. "I didn't mean to cause trouble between you and our lady.

"She's not my lady," Draco assured her, to which she raised her eyebrow. "We're nothing to each other."

She laughed in disbelief: "If you truly believe that, you are all kinds of stupid!"

Draco frowned at her, and she elaborated.

"I watch everyone in this room, it's what I do," she explained. "The way you look at her when she talks with others, you despise it when she shows animated attention to the other men. But you never notice the way she looks at you compared to how she looks at the others: they are her comrades, her brothers – the way she converses with them is familial. She does not look at you in that way. And when you give your attention to other women - she looks at you the same way you look at her when she talks to the other men."

Draco thought about what she said for a few moments, but when he didn't look like he was going to move anywhere anytime soon, the wench gave an exasperated sigh and goaded him into action.

"You should perhaps remedy the argument, sooner rather than later, before you ruin whatever it is that you have between you."

Draco sighed and nodded; she was right – though not for the reasons she was probably thinking. He needed to be on cordial speaking terms with Hermione, if they were going to work together effectively to find their way back. They couldn't afford to be divided in this adventure, the journey was too treacherous and fraught with potentially catastrophic dangers. He drained his glass and left the tavern, setting out down to the docks in pursuit of Hermione.

The evening was quiet and peaceful when Hermione made it to the dockside, away from the bustle of the taverns, but anger still bubbled through her. She should have known better really – she thought that she and Draco were starting to cross boundaries in their relationship, that they were becoming more than friends; she should have known his attraction to her was nothing more than the want of any alternative. As she made her way toward the Oxford she passed a couple of drunken sailors who were being called into small row boat.

"Will you two get yourselves in here!" the man in the boat was shouting. "The captain is ready to sail, if we don't make it out of port before full sundown he'll flog you both to within an inch of your life!"

The drunken men in question became momentarily distracted from their chastisement as Hermione pushed through them.

"That's no way for a lady to dress," one of the commented.

"No," the other agreed. "But it's a way that suits. Dresses hide many things, nothing is hidden in that!"

"Do not try my patience today," Hermione called back harshly. Despite her warning, part of her hoped they provoked her further – she would dearly love an excuse to draw steel, and while she wasn't a great swordsman, these two seemed intoxicated enough to be easily taken.

"Oh don't be like that," one of them called, as the two of them caught up with her and went to take her waist.

That was all the provocation she need; Hermione drew her sword and pushed the men back.

"I said not today, men. Not today."

The sailors drew their own swords, and Hermione heard their sober companion complain "oh good lord," in the background. She lunged for the nearest one, whose defensive parry she easily knocked back, before twirling to meet his friends' blade before it came crashing down on her. As she had hoped, they were too intoxicated to fight with speed and precision, and so Hermione could twirl and move between them, keeping pace with ease. It was her first real sword fight, and she found it to be an excellent outlet for the anger she had been feeling. Her adversaries' companion was shouting something, but Hermione ignored him, too intent upon keeping her opponents' steel at bay. As well as her slashes and parries, she got in a couple of well-placed punches and kicks, sometimes leaving one of them winded long enough for her to kick-back the other, effectively keeping the duel one-on-one for brief periods. She was only distracted once, when she heard her own name being called out.

"Granger?" She recognised Draco's voice in the distance, calling out in alarm, and then heard his steps on the pier go from a walk to a run.

"Damn it, boys! Enough with this now! Get in the damn boat before more come running!"

"Ana!" Draco shouted again as he got closer, drawing his own sword intending to join the fray.

The shouting had distracted the fighters briefly, and Hermione took the opportunity to plant a heavy blow into the head of one of the men, sending him sprawling to the ground. The sober boatman, seeing that his companions would be no match for two opponents, took matters into his own hands. He sprang from the boat with an oar in hand, to come up behind Draco. Before Hermione could shout out a warning, he brought the paddle across the back of Draco's head with a resounding crack, the impact knocking him out could.

"Alaric!" Hermione shouted in concern, momentarily distracted from her fight. A moment was all it took: her adversary, taking inspiration from his comrade, brought the hilt of his sword down hard on the back of her head, and Hermione's world went black.

A/N: Thanks for reading guys. Let me know what you thought. I'll have the next chapter up as soon as possible - it might not be as long as this one, so it hopefully shouldn't take as long to write

xBx