A/N:
Over 200 reviews-I've been spoiled! Thanks so much C: I've got this one out sooner than the last, and I'm working on the next so here's hoping that one updates quickly as well. The plot will really start to pick up here in the next several chapters as some storylines will meet. December is a busy month for me and I'm taking a lot of call, but I'll work on it when I can! Also, made an aesthetic you can find on photobucket, AO3, or FB-all of which are listed on my profile. Happy reading and I hope you like this next chapter C:
Carrington Shaw and RooOJoy are the most awesome betas a girl could ask for!
Inspiration: Skyrim Elder Scrolls, From Past to Present (again) and my FF Nook peeps!
Thanks for the interest on this story and to the reviewers: BabyBHawk2013, HaveManners, romancenerd7878, Mistress DragonFlame, bennettfan84, I was BOTWP, Meiri, sunshinealeia, RunningQuill, valentinalondono3597, pgoodrichboggs, AnnaOxford, Green Eyed Lana Lee, daswhoiam, Rcaseyseale, Bernaheartsyou, Landre, Sandra-Sempra, LeanaM, SorceressNox, riddlesgurl86, and the guests!
000
Tracey leaned against the crude wooden ledge of the river house balcony. She loved this time of day, when the mist from the river that cut through the town billowed along the water's surface. The sun hadn't crested over the thick fringe of trees yet, and the village of New Godric appeared eerie in the early morning light.
She glanced over her shoulder at Regulus, who sat with Cho tangled over his lap, smoking a long pipe. The sweet smelling smoke curled around the small lanai, tickling her nose. She ran a hand through her tousled blond locks, and sighed in exasperation.
"Trouble sleeping, Trace," Cho queried.
Regulus exhaled a plume of smoke. "I think our dear Miss Davis would prefer to wallow in her sorrow alone."
Tracey gave an indelicate snort. "I'm not wallowing in anything. I only wanted a bit of peace this morning."
Regulus scoffed. "We're the early birds of the bunch. You're the one who gets up around noon every day."
It was true. The daily festivities of the village did tend to run late into the night and Tracey could hardly resist missing any of the fun. But with the increasing dreams and visions, she was hardly ever in a celebratory mood anymore. She was far too drained from the unwelcome feelings and sensation that wracked her body every time she had another episode. It was one thing if she could just simply dismiss them, but the fact that they invoked such strong feelings made it impossible to do so.
"Alright, maybe I have been having some trouble," she admitted. She straightened from her crouched position and walked over to the couple, holding her hand out and gesturing for the pipe.
"What?" Regulus said, clutching the pipe protectively to him as best as he could with Cho in the way. "You don't smoke."
"I do now. Hand it over."
He begrudgingly handed over the still lit pipe and she took a deep inhale from the curved bit, before coughing and sputtering profusely. "What the bloody hell is in this, Reg?" She thrust the wooden piece back to him, staring distastefully at it.
"Ask your sister, she's the Herbologist I got it from."
Her lungs still burned and feeling suddenly lethargic, she sat down by Regulus and Cho. "Tes usually puts together a calming mix."
"Tessie has several mixes in her wares. I prefer the harder stuff." He arched his eyebrow and smirked.
Tracey sighed again, letting her head fall back to rest on the rough wood of the river house. Cho detangled herself from Reg's lap and came to sit on the opposite side of her.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked. "I can empathize with you a little. I know what it's like when your gifts start to surface. It can be a confusing time."
"Maybe I don't want this gift," she said with a snarl. "I'm an entirely competent witch sans unwanted divination skills. If anything, it throws me off."
"I get it," Cho placed a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder, "but you'll learn to use it to your advantage eventually. It's called a gift for a reason—because it's helpful to you in some way—you simply have to figure out how."
"Do you not see how knowledge of the future is helpful, Cho?" Regulus asked rather bluntly. "Of course it's a gift."
"That's just it." Tracey sat forward on her knees, looking out towards the river, and then further still past the trees and to the open sea. "I don't feel like it's the future I'm seeing. I feel like it's the past…" her voice trailed off uncertainly. "That is, I think it is. It's just a feeling, but when I have them, they stir up far more questions than they answer."
"I've never heard of a divinator who saw into the past," Cho murmured thoughtfully.
Regulus's features twisted in confusion. "What good does seeing into the past do for anyone?"
Cho shot him a look of warning, before looking back to Tracey who was biting her lip and staring off into space again. "My advice to you would be that next time you find yourself in one of these visions, attempt to have some control over them."
"Control?"
"That's right." Cho nodded encouragingly. "Take a deep breath and count to three. Remind yourself of what's happening and that it's a mission of sorts. You're there to scrounge for information, sort of like a reconnaissance mission. If you approach it with that in mind, you may notice details you wouldn't normally."
Tracey shook her head sadly. "I don't know if I can do that."
"It's your vision, your gift," Cho reminded her, "bend it to your will."
Tracey's eyes widened as she mulled her friend's words over. Could she really have that much control? She would love to of course, but it seemed so out of reach. I can always try.
"Brilliant," Regulus said, sitting up. "Now that that's squared away I'm going to see if I can wake Ronald and Justin. Get those tossers to help me fortify the Praetexio charm."
Cho rolled her eyes, suppressing a grin. "You do that." She turned to Tracey. "Meanwhile, I can take you to my place and we can read tea dregs, like Hogwarts days only, maybe we will see something now?"
Tracey beamed up at her friend, feeling lighter and less burdened after their talk. "That sounds lovely."
000
The palace hallway seemed large and intimidating to Theo, when compared to his previous living situations in the dungeons. He adapted a face of indifference as he walked down the hall, shoes clicking on the expensive marble.
It had been a while since he'd worn shoes. He flexed his toes tentatively, unused to the feeling. He longed to adjust the collar of his dress robes—they felt stifling—but any jittery movement on his part could be construed as a weakness so he resisted the urge.
He wondered idly how long Blaise and himself had been sequestered to the dungeons, and their subsequent torture. He'd lost time when his brain had slipped, but he got it back. He would rather not think of the reason for which he got it back, especially not right before he was to meet with the King, but she was his saving grace, or the memory of her, anyway. Just like he was likely the saving grace for Blaise, who otherwise may have experienced a permanent mind slip if it weren't for Theo's attentions.
Rip it from your fucking mind and don't think on it another moment, he inwardly chanted.
He glanced to his left to see Blaise, features inscrutable, striding confidently next to him. They were escorted by two Court Aurors, their red robes the only splash of color in the hall with its shades of black and grey. The sconces flickered on the walls, lighting their way.
Theo was wary. Would they be sitting among all the Lords? Their fathers included? The last thing he desired for was his father to be disgraced or embarrassed. His only wish now was that the Nott's could become incognito for the time being—they needed time to regroup. He realized the hope was, of course, a folly. King Riddle would not be so forgiving where failure was concerned, and he knew, as did Blaise, that the real challenge was yet to come.
Passing this test would decide their livelihood.
He was comforted by the fact that he did not see the reason for the Healers nursing them back to health and dressing them in finery if they would only be murdered mere seconds later, but then, that was the way of their King.
They rounded the corner and entered into a large room with a stone table. The King sat at the helm of it, wearing green robes, his fingers steepled underneath his chin.
"Ah," he said, looking up. "Theodore and Blaise. I'm pleased to see you've recovered enough to treat with me."
A muscle clenched imperceptibly by Theo's jaw as he quickly dropped to one knee next to Blaise, tucking his head in the shadows. Recovered, he scoffed inwardly.
"Please, arise," the King commanded graciously. "And have a seat. We have much to discuss."
The wizards did so, taking a seat to the right of the King. He smiled at them both, the kind of smile a father would deliver to son that had just returned from a long journey, but the smile did not touch his eyes. Theo was nothing if not observant.
"Apologies for what you both had to endure," he said empathetically. "A month spent below is not ideal for anyone, but you do understand."
A month, Theo inwardly marveled at this bit of news. I could never have imagined we were there that long.
"Of course," Theo replied smoothly. "We understand completely."
"What we endured," Blaise hazarded carefully, "was necessary in obtaining the truth."
"Your memories." King Riddle deadpanned. "So they've returned to you?"
The men nodded solemnly.
The King's face was carefully guarded but Theo noticed a glint in his eye that he almost construed for greedy. "Very good. I hope my methods did not cause too much distress."
"They were necessary, Excellency," Theo said. "It was a difficult decision to make, but for the good of the cause."
"Yes." The King nodded. "For the good of the cause. The information locked in your heads thanks to the Order's memory charm is imperative to our success. It was a tough decision to make, but I had to consider not only your needs, but the needs of everyone else."
"The wise decision of a leader, Excellency," Blaise said.
Theo was relieved to notice the wizard was not holding himself so stiffly. Apparently, his Slytherin tendencies were coming back to him.
"Now that that bad business is settled, we can discuss the events that transpired a month and a half ago." King Riddle's tone was clipped as he leaned forward, emerald green sleeves that signified royalty, slid against the stone table. "I want you to tell me everything of the events you can remember, starting from the day the Emerald Serpent was attacked at sea."
The men shared a glance, and Theo's throat suddenly felt dry. He swallowed carefully, before he looked to Riddle's piercing blue ones.
"It was a day like any other day, sire," Theo began tentatively. "We were sailing the ocean, no land in sight."
King Riddle nodded intently, imbuing him to continue.
"I remember that day, we were checking on the cargo. We'd lost a few on the long journey."
"Why was that?" The King raised his eyebrows expectantly.
"Incompetence," Blaise answered.
"That's right," Theo continued, resting his forearms against the table as he leaned forward. "Crabbe and Goyle were in charge of the Muggle cargo. They let a few get sick. I saw the both of them fall into the water only right after the battle had commenced."
"You're getting ahead of yourself," the King spoke urgently. "What happened after you checked on the Muggles?"
"The Captain gave them a thorough reprimand, and we went back above the ship. It was only a few moments later before we were attacked. Potter's ship appeared out of nowhere; it didn't even try to conceal itself, proudly waving the red phoenix flag. We acted immediately, but they were in range and prepared. Before we could set our cannons, their blasts were tearing through the Serpent, ripping through our wards and tearing the ship to shreds."
"You were overwhelmed?"
"The fight only lasted twenty minutes, at the most," Blaise said. "Very quickly, we noticed that it was only the Captain and us two left standing. When he was hit with a Stupefy, he hit the water and disappeared into the blackness. I fell in shortly after, but I was conscious."
"As was I," Theo said.
"And Captain Malfoy, you're sure he didn't surface?"
Theo's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Yes, Excellency. I had meant to search for him, but the ship was in shambles, torn almost in half. The water was churning and I could barely keep myself afloat."
"What happened then?"
"We were plucked from the water, Highness, us and four Muggles." Blaise stared unblinkingly at the King.
"It was dark, but I saw the wizard that cast the Obscuro on us, Ronald Weasley. He cast it and led us to the holding cells where we were…healed. We were kept there for the duration of the trip, until we were in view of land."
"And that's how you were found in the Western Sahara?" the King probed. "So kind of them to drop you off on our side of the world."
"In only a day's travel, we were in Floo distance," Blaise confirmed. "Though memoryless, we were recognized and brought immediately to Court."
"But you must have learned something above the ship?"
"A witch named Tessie brought us food, otherwise, we were left alone and wandless, until the day they set us in a charmed rowboat, headed for shore." Theo didn't quiver as he met the King's hard stare, even as he felt the brush of the Legilimency.
"Sorry, Theo, but I have to do this. For your own good and for ours. I hope for your sake your master is lenient on you and we do not send you to your death. You clearly are not ready to join us."
He hid the thought, concealed deep in the recesses of his mind. He tucked the blond vision of a witch away, wand pointed straight at him, and guarded her safely from Riddle's curious eyes.
"There was one point where we saw several members," Theo confessed, outwardly ignoring the invasion of his mind. "Both Black brothers, Potter, and Ronald were the ones who placed us in the boat, who cast the Obliviation, but before that, they received something."
"Some form of communication?"
Theo felt the King greedily rummage through his mind, impatient for the answer, seemingly uncaring Theo knew he was using such an invasive spell.
"A Patronus." But the King already had his answer, and triumph as well as a new determination passed through in a split second.
"It was a weasel," Blaise needlessly informed him. "Probably from another of the Weasley clan."
"The bane of wizards everywhere," the King muttered, and his attention drew away from them as he appeared to mull through the news they'd delivered.
Theo sat rigidly in his chair, resisting the urge to look over to Blaise.
After several moments, King Riddle snapped out of his trance, and looked directly at them once more. "You've done wonderfully, boys, and I will see to it that your sacrifice is suitably reimbursed to you both, but just tell me one more thing. At any point of this…adventure, did you see or hear from Draco Malfoy aboard the rebels' ship?"
Blaise's mouth opened in shock at the implication, but Theo was able to school his features slightly smoother.
"Even in a cell further away from yours, or above, anywhere. Do you have any reason to believe he is still alive?"
"No, Excellency," Theo answered definitively. "It would take an act of the gods to have saved him from the horrible fate he surely suffered."
000
The heat of the sun cut through the foliage of trees, warming her neck as Hermione bent down to wash the linens by the pool. She cast a nervous glance to the treehouse, where Malfoy was still sleeping. Sometime in the night, the rock-hard cliff had become too uncomfortable to sleep and they'd made their descent back down the cliff.
She looked up the first waterfall, unable to see the second set of falls from her vantage point, but she knew it was there, and she remembered what they'd done. A blush creeped up her neck at the reminder.
She really did not know what had happened. One moment she was setting out to prove a point, and the next she was pressed up against the cliff wall, letting Malfoy have his way with her. It was completely out of character; she wasn't some slag. Yet things had seemed to culminate to the boiling point, as they often did when she and Malfoy were concerned, and she was helpless but to submit to the madness of it.
And now how will things be between the two of us? Will he think less of me—that I'm a loose woman? Or will he want to continue whatever this is? She thought back to the way he had aided her down the cliff, the bright stars and the scant light of the moon guiding their way. She was weary and languid, and had allowed him to carry her up the stairs and to their home, content to curl into his embrace as he laid down beside her, wrapping her in his arms. It had all been so tender, and so not what she'd been expecting, but she had hardly been of sound mind to expound on it at the time.
Aside from being worried about the way he felt about things, she also was confused about her own feelings. He'd said crude, malicious things to her before giving her the most exquisite pleasure she'd ever felt in her life. It was mind-boggling. She was utterly confused and she didn't know what to make of it. On one hand, she was inexplicably drawn to the Pureblood who she knew she had no business setting her attentions on—it was impossible. On the other hand, she should surely be angry for his crass treatment of her. She couldn't allow herself to be abused.
Maybe it isn't his fault, she thought as she magically charmed his shirt dry and folded it before laying it softly on the grass. Can I really expect him to forsake everything he was taught so quickly? Malfoy's deep-seated prejudices would not be so easily cast aside; despite her best efforts, these things took time. The fact that he was even trying and was attempting to see blood statuses was encouraging enough. She could be patient with the man. There was a willingness there, and she could sense it.
Upon finishing the laundry, she carried the load to the treehouse and set them on the steps. Setting her sights on breakfast, she walked to the nearest guava tree. It was there that she discovered the nest of unattended Fwooper eggs on a low hanging branch. They caught her attention because they weren't speckled and opaque. She delicately reached for one and held it up to the sunlight, coming to the conclusion that it was indeed unfertilized.
Happily, she set the three eggs along with the guavas into the lap of her dress and carried them back to the dying fire. She'd just been longing for eggs and bacon. Guava juice and eggs would be a fine substitute.
It was after she'd located the savory spices and begun frying the eggs as best she could on the stone hearth that Malfoy finally awoke and descended the stairs. She was squeezing the guavas into the shells when he came to sit in one of the bamboo chairs.
She was thankful for the task at hand, glad to have something to do to occupy her hands with, as she tilted her head to face him, worry consuming her. Concern smoldered in his eyes, causing her heart to flutter in her chest.
"Good morning," she ventured tentatively.
"Good morning," he returned, holding himself rigidly in his chair. "You weren't there when I awoke."
Hermione swallowed audibly, debating how to respond to the question, or rather statement. "Er…yes. I thought I'd get breakfast started," she gestured to the food she was preparing but his eyes were glued on her, "get some laundry done…that sort of thing."
He didn't respond, regarding her silently, and she found herself wishing she was a Legilimens so she could simply pluck out of his mind what he was thinking. Was he bothered she had fled his bed in the morning? She wasn't sure what to think when she had awoken, his breath ghosting against her neck, and one arm held around her. She'd turned to examine his face in the early morning light. Absent the sneer he often wore, he looked content and at peace. She'd detangled herself quickly, unwilling to endure the awkwardness that would surely occur.
She paused in her work. "Was it your wish for me to have stayed?"
He nodded and she felt a flash of guilt shoot through her. In an effort to save herself the embarrassment or potential heartache of being rejected, she'd tucked tail and run, and in doing so, possibly made him feel rejected.
"Sorry," she mumbled, getting hastily to her feet and vanishing the mess she'd made. "I hadn't known. I—," she faltered, struggling to find the right words, "I obviously haven't had much experience with such things."
She whirled away, before Malfoy could see the look of vulnerability that had surely surfaced.
He caught up to her in several quick strides, and spun her to face him. She looked up at him with wide eyes, wishing she could simply melt into the ground. He looked torn, and Hermione wondered again what he could be thinking.
"I wanted to apologize."
"Apologize?" She hauled herself away from him, rage suddenly surfacing out of nowhere. "And why did you need to do that?" Her right hand fell to her hip as she glared at him.
He clenched his jaw whilst his whole body tensed. Hermione could not summon any fear, only anger.
"I'm sorry for a great many things last night."
"Well, I'm sorry you have so much to be sorry for," she said with a snarl, turning away from him and forgetting completely about the breakfast. All she wanted to do was get away from him, especially if he regretted their time together when it had been the single most perfect time of her life. Tears sprung unbidden to her eyes and she broke into a run.
He caught up to her quickly, and stopped her more forcibly this time, grabbing both of her wrists and pressing his chest against her. Her body instantly came alive to her chagrin, and she found herself leaning into his touch. He nuzzled her neck before whispering into her ear, causing tingles to shoot down her spine.
"I don't regret being with you, silly witch, I only worry I was too rough…I'd have been gentler had I known." Her arms fell slack by her sides and she swallowed down a gasp as his hands began to wander from her hips and up her sides. She grew lax under his coaxing touch. "And the things I said right before…I didn't mean them." One hand came up to cup her throat and he lightly kissed her neck, his nose tickling her. "That's what I'm sorry for...princess."
Her rage melted away and she suddenly felt rather silly. She took a step away from him, if only to catch her breathing, and he didn't try to stop her.
Mustering her courage, she turned to face him. "It's not like you hurt me." She felt a flush creep up her neck. "I suppose it was cowardly of me to leave this morning, but I wasn't ready to talk about it."
"You're the oddest sort of woman. Usually a witch wouldn't stop harping on something like this."
"Had a lot of experience with this?" she asked sharply.
"Not as much as you may think," he answered honestly. He smiled and reached for her hand. "Look, I'm saying all the wrong things. Can we sit down and eat your meal? It smells heavenly."
She eyed his outstretched hand debating whether to accept his offer. In the end, she determined she was acting rather silly. She nodded, and reached for his outstretched fingers.
000
Draco rested his head back on the grass, sighing in content after eating the delicious breakfast Hermione had prepared.
He chanced a glance at her. She was sitting up and playing with a stream of water she'd snatched from the pool, bending and morphing it into different shapes. He smiled. She was an odd witch, and he sensed that she had a lot of guards up. It was clear she had never let someone close to her before. He swallowed hard, lest he spout off something cruel and ruin things again, like he tended to do so often. He wasn't sure why the witch made him so nervous; it wasn't like being around beautiful women was exactly new to him, but somehow he found his confidence wavering in her presence and he was often prone to spouting off at the mouth with something cruel.
He couldn't stop thinking about what had happened between them, and how he wished to repeat the experience again and again. There was something about being around her; she drew him in like a moth to the flame. They would fight back and forth, both of them unrelenting, but when they gave in to their baser desires it was explosive in the best of ways.
Still, he was tinged with guilt. He'd uttered obscenity after obscenity at her in an effort to push her away, he hadn't even meant them—not really—and then he took her like a man starved. He had stupidly thought she was attuned to such things, she certainly had fooled him, but she was as pure as the first winter snow, and surely he could have done things differently.
Plucking a small white flower from the grass, he called upon his magic, willing the dainty thing to grow and shimmer brilliantly in the light of the sun. He handed it to her, and she let the ball of water fall into the pool, but made no move to grab it.
"It's for you," he explained.
She stared at it apathetically. "What's it for?"
She really was the oddest sort of woman. "It's a flower. Don't girls like this sort of thing?"
"I suppose. I just don't see the purpose for it." She grasped it delicately. "And why must you keep reminding me of your exploits with other women?"
He shot her a scoundrel-like grin. "Jealous, lovely?"
"Hardly," she scoffed. "More like irritated."
"Buggering hell. Day one and I'm already irritating you? Perhaps I should vacate to the other side of the island and we can meet on nights when the moon is full?"
She quirked her lips. "That might be too frequent," she teased.
He raised a brow. "Do you think so? Because I believe you would be navigating those treacherous cliffs yourself within a fortnight."
"Do you?" Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she turned her body towards him.
"Perhaps you need to be reminded of just what you would be missing."
She bit her lip as if debating. "Maybe you're right." She leaned back on her forearms. "A refresher course may be needed."
Draco swallowed audibly at the blatant challenge before he was on her in seconds, tumbling her the rest of the way to the ground. His mouth slanted over hers hot and possessive, leaving her panting in seconds. He'd missed her taste and decided that he would rather not go a day depriving himself. She was soft and pliant and she gripped onto his shoulders, holding him securely.
She broke away, taking a few seconds to find her breath. "I suppose you're right; a month may be too long of a separation."
"You'll soon learn I'm always right," he chortled.
She straightened and stepped to the edge of the pool. "Malfoy," she said, glancing back at him. "I think that's called hubris." She jumped into the water.
He reluctantly stood to his feet, waiting for her to surface. "You do so love to swim, don't you?"
She nodded, smiling ruefully, before swimming to her favorite spot on the rock and underneath the falls. He peeled off his shirt and cast it aside on the grass before diving in after her.
When he reached her, she was sitting on the slick rocks and watching the falls, holding her knees to her chest.
"About last night," he began, determined to say his piece.
"I already told you not to worry about it."
"It's just, what I said couldn't be further from the truth."
"Believe me, I understand." She turned her head, resting it on her shoulder. "I was raised around Purebloods like you. I'm well aware of their hatred for Mudbloods."
"Thanks to you, I'm second-guessing all of that. Really, it goes beyond that." He captured her gaze intently, imbuing her to listen. "I never looked at witches as my equal, just in general, but with you I look at you as more than my equal."
Her eyes widened in surprise by the admission.
"It's true. You've made me question everything, look at it all differently. Truthfully, I'm starting to wonder if it's even right what we do to Mudbloods, or Muggle-borns rather. If they even possess a quarter of the magical capability you have, I don't see why they should be banned from the magical world. Muggles, too. I'm starting to wonder why we can't live in peace with them."
"Do you really mean that, Malfoy, or are you just telling me what I want to hear, for some unknown reason?"
"I really wish you'd call me Draco. Surely you can after this point?"
She smirked. "Draco."
"I do mean it," he stressed. "Absolutely I do. I'm not sure there's much I could do to change things, but I certainly wish things were different."
"That's quite treasonous. Isn't that what the Order is guilty of preaching? At least that's what you made it sound like."
"The Order is filled with scallywags and murderers." He wrinkled his nose in distaste. "They killed my crew, good men. They would be like trading one dictatorship for another. The whole thing is a mess and I don't see how there is any way to fix things."
"I wish you'd try." Her eyes tapered in annoyance. "You're in a position where anything you say would actually have a rather large effect."
"How do you know I wouldn't," he pressed. "Perhaps if I were given a chance, I would speak out in Court."
"That would be suicide. At least the Order has some semblance of power."
"They're doing it all wrong."
She sat back quietly, eyes trained on the water as she digested his words. It felt oddly freeing to get that off his chest. Speaking to Hermione was definitely therapeutical.
"Draco," she said hesitantly. "There's something I must confess."
His throat constricted at her words, and he felt suddenly wary. "Oh?"
She bit her lip before looking up at him, doe eyed. "I sort of," she fiddled distractedly with her hands, "may have…cast a Praetexio charm on the island."
His mouth fell open. He had expected her to say anything but that.
She watched him with trepidation. "Are you really that gobsmacked?"
"That's a two person charm, Hermione, a very complicated one at that."
"I knew the incantation, and so I tried it. That's what I was doing the day you found me with a bloody nose."
"You were acting a bit dodgy that day, weren't you?"
She shrugged. "Sorry."
"You never cease to amaze me." He shook his head, looking stunned. "That explains why the Order ship sailed past us."
"Are you angry with me?"
He peered at her with an expression of honest curiosity and longing combined. "How could I be?"
"I could take them down," she offered.
"Why would you do that?"
"You said if you could do anything in the world, you'd get off of this island."
He smiled as he remembered saying that to her. It seemed like it had been ages ago. "I did say that, didn't I?"
She nodded, looking up at him expectantly.
"That was before. Now I know this place is paradise. There's no steak, but at least we get eggs once in awhile. And I have you."
She blushed at his words. "But your family…"
Draco drew his eyebrows together at her reminder. Yes, his family. How were they faring without him? His parents were likely broken up about it. He wished there was some way to communicate to them he was safe.
"See," she said, watching the torrent of emotions flicker across her face. "You miss them. I'm not so afraid for my own safety that I would deprive you from ever seeing them again."
"I honestly don't know how safe I could keep you, what kind of life I could provide," he trailed off uncertainly. "But I will admit, it would be nice to see my parents and my grandfather again, to let them know I'm safe, but I can't ask you to do that, not when your safety is threatened."
"What of the injustice people are facing? They're oppressed, Draco. Do you want to hide away from the world, or do you want to do something about it?" Righteous indignation burned in her eyes. "It would be cowardly to hide away from everything, I see that now. I'm no coward."
"Who's to say we will ever be found? It's almost been two months. They've likely stopped searching if they ever did to begin with. And truthfully, I don't know what the two of us could do."
"We can watch and wait."
He watched her, smiling softly. "That's the Slytherin way. And if the path is too dangerous, I'll scoop you up myself and cart you back here, maybe with Martin Dubois." She chuckled and he continued, "Not to mention some cows and chickens, maybe some proper English furniture?"
"You can bring your parents." She laughed freely.
"They can live on the other side of the island."
"Will we visit them monthly?"
"If even that. They're not the kindest, you know."
"Their reputation precedes them." She stood to her feet, water dripping from her gown. "That's a nice dream, but it seems a bit far-fetched."
"I don't mind staying here," he admitted. "But if we were somehow found, know that I would protect you. I get that you haven't had much of that in your life, but you can count on it from me."
She smiled tremulously, before setting her jaw in determination. Draco watched with fascination as she broke the wards. This time, he was there to catch her when she collapsed.
000
Lucius hated the ocean; he always had.
That intensified tenfold when his son made it his goal in life to reject everything his father Abraxas and he himself had laid out before him to pursue frivolous adventure on the high seas. Where had that landed him? Hopefully somewhere, because he had not been immortalized in the family tapestry, and if he was not immortalized, then he was alive and that was sufficient cause for Lucius to search.
He would hear no more of Narcissa's incoherent ramblings; he cared not for them. They were the pessimistic views of a hardened and bitter woman.
He knew the truth—so long as that portrait remained empty—hope was alive.
Pacing the red wooden deck of the large and cumbersome cargo ship he was forced to seek passage on, he took another wild glance around him, but all he saw was sea. They had stopped on numerous cays and islands, some known and others uncharted, some bearing the royal flag and others wild and untamed, but they never ventured very far. He knew his son would build shelter close to shore, so that is where they always searched.
They had made ten stops thus far, and the crew was growing wary with Lucius' relentless searching. They wanted to make their profitable stops to the known New World and then back to England, before continuing on to the Australia's. Lucius was having to empty his coffers and then some to get them to continue on the mission.
But they had to continue.
Draco was still out there; he could feel it in his bones.
When he found him, for a Malfoy was nothing if not determined, he would force the boy into royal service as he should have when he'd left Hogwarts. He'd been far too soft with him. Hopefully Draco now realized the importance of doing what was expected of him as well as taking a proper Pureblood wife as was expected. There would be no more indulgences—he'd certainly had his share.
Lucius glanced at the hardened men that bustled around the ship in distaste. He was surrounded by Muggles, and a crew that could hardly be considered Purebloods. Scousers, the lot of them. He'd have to keep them happy just the same. All that mattered was plucking Draco from whatever godforsaken island he'd marooned himself on. He'd stop at nothing to ensure success.
000
