A/N: Sorry for the delay-I was on holiday in the Caribbean of all places! So definitely got a little motivation for this chapter C: Made a chapter aesthetic (I always do for Shipwrecked and AUE-they are my faves!) which you can find on fb, photobucket, or AO3. Thanks for the lovely reviews&&happy reading!

Beta Love to: RooOJoy, Carrington Shaw, and SlytherinPrincessNurse1994

Inspiration: Time is the Enemy by Quantic

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000

Time devours all.

So she had been told.

Only it didn't.

Not for her.

Time became obsolete just like everything else.

The urge to eat, to drink, to sleep...she'd gotten used to forever craving but never succumbing from the consequences of being without for so long. It was unnatural...and it was torture. Suspended in a permanent state of wanting but never sating her hunger or thirst. Only her pulsating need for revenge that burned hot and alive inside her chest kept her sane...or mildly sane anyway. It was all debatable, according to Nina.

You're going mad, Nina informed her quite giddily.

Psh, Rowen scoffed. She's as clear headed as she's ever been.

Hermione could feel more than see Maurelle nod. The need to exact your revenge will do that to you, dear; focuses you, it does!

Don't worry, Rhea attempted to comfort her. They'll come back for you! They wouldn't leave you like this, not after all you've been through together...through the years...all the times you've shared!

They won't come. Nina shook her head madly, and Hermione imagined her beaded hair swishing through the air. They fear her far too much.

For once, Hermione was inclined to agree with Nina.

But Red Edge, Rhea cut in. They'll want to find it.

They won't risk letting her out of the prison just to ascertain that information, Maurelle intoned wisely. They've found a way around it, and Red Edge will stay hidden. If Hermione could feel human contact, she would probably feel Maurelle's hand as she placed it comfortingly on her shoulder, a mere whisper. You may have lost, dear girl, but at least you've bested them in this. The others will always be hunted, but they'll also be able to return, and thus be safe.

"They've kept me in stasis by tricking me to give them my very own elixir," Hermione rasped into the darkness, worry rapidly consuming her. "But what if they find the water's location? They can do this to others."

Too many jinxes. Too many obstacles. They won't find it. Rhea's words were confident and sure, and Hermione longed to believe them.

You've done all you can do. Nina twirled in mad circles, and Hermione could feel the breeze from her sheer tunic spinning around her. Don't punish yourself, just embrace that there was nothing more…

"I could have done more...more wards...more something. It was all up to me and it's likely I didn't do enough. The two of them are nothing if not resourceful." She stretched as much as she could against his stringent bindings.

The others grew silent, and Hermione feared she would be alone again. The solitude is what killed her; as long as there was someone to talk to, she retained her sanity.

"It's going to devour me...I'll fade into nothing...nothing more than a crustacean against the cave wall...with no sentience and no grasp on reality," she whispered aloud. "I'm not even sure how long it's been...weeks? Months? Years?"

"A century."

Hermione let out a gasp when she heard that voice. She felt the others cower away in her mind, all save Maurelle, who had always been the bravest.

"It's taken you that long to elevate your mind." Nyx's voice was loud and clear, unlike the other versions, and it reverberated through the air. "Time devours all things, but it will not devour you."

"But it will." She felt tears stinging her eyes for the first time in ages. "I don't want to fight anymore, I feel myself slipping, and I want to, what's there to live for? I've been betrayed in the most horrifying of ways by those closest to me, I'd rather not remember. Nina is right; I've done all I can, now let my mind be free of this burden. The sting of what they did is far too painful to bear."

"Nina is a silly little girl, not elevated like you. Don't tell me you didn't see this coming? For I did."

"You might have told me." She was unable to keep the scorn from her voice.

Nyx stepped forward, illuminating her prison with a faint glow she'd not seen in years. Sight! Blessed sight. How she missed being able to see. Her feet dangled far above the water. The crystal accents of the cave glimmered along the wall. It wasn't much, but it was just enough to remind her that she was really here.

"You knew. We prepared for this. Do you remember? Surely a hundred years have jogged your memory. You aren't like these flippant versions you insist on comforting you—you are elevated."

"And you?"

"I'm the highest elevation you've ever reached. I am who they fear, and you need to remember, for this is nothing," she gestured to Hermione's bindings, "a mere obstacle in the grand scheme of things. Draw from your magic, silly girl. The Fae are no match for you."

The tears flowed freely now. "But how can I? How can I draw from it? I have no means to wield it!"

"You are no mere witch," Nyx spat cruelly.

"I know of the elements. I know I do not require a wand. But the water below is shielded from me and I cannot call upon it. There is no earth to derive power from, just solid rock. I've not felt the heat of fire for a century, much less could I draw power from it, and even if I had all of those things, these bindings make it impossible to access my magic. I'm trapped!"

Nyx stepped ever closer, despite being several meters from the ground. Hermione looked into a face, an ancient face, not dissimilar to her own, but there were subtle differences; the knowledge in Nyx's eyes, the awareness, all of which overwhelmed Hermione. "You know. We prepared for this treachery. It will not be by wizard's magic that you will seek freedom through death, but by air, it was always air."

Hermione shook her head, feeling lost and empty. "Air. I can't. It's the hardest, I've never had an affinity for it. I can't perform magic through air."

"But you can," Nyx argued, her black eyes boring into Hermione's. "You're doing it now. You've summoned me, haven't you? And you need to. They will not rule this world in peace. Each plan they hatch is more destructive and unnatural than the last. The world needs you to resurface, if not just to oppose them."

Hermione stared, lost and empty, into the scant light provided by the apparition she'd conjured. "How do I know this is really happening? That I'm already bypassing the bindings and calling upon air?"

"Now that you know, you will be aware. Force yourself to discover your affinity for it; all you have is time."

She sensed her guide fading, and raw panic churned dark and insidious in her gut. "Nyx! Don't leave me."

But her light had already snuffed out, and she sensed the familiar solitude once more.

No, not alone, Maurelle assured her. That's right, Rhea piped in and Nina nodded vigorously. We will never leave you—not now. We have something to work for now, Rowen told her, something to live for.

Hermione tightened her jaw and closed her eyes against the darkness. Air, that would be her saving grace against fatal hopelessness. There was a chance...a chance to right all that was wronged.

All she had to do was try…

Hermione

Try…

"Hermione!"

She opened her eyes with a gasp, and she immediately saw intent grey eyes staring back at her. Her chest was rising and falling in shallow pants, and it took several seconds for her to calm her breathing.

"Draco?" she breathed, glancing around to see she was wrapped in his arms. She could feel his magic envelop hers with a gentle caress, quickly easing and alleviating her previous panic.

"That's right, I'm here. You were having a nightmare, or I suppose a daydream?" He gestured around them and for the first time she realized they were on the beach, just under the shade of a large palm, with blankets snuggled underneath them. The sun was lower in the sky and she realized it was likely late afternoon.

"How long have I been asleep?"

He shrugged, furrowing his brow in concentration. "Can't have been more than an hour, but I dozed off too so I'm not quite sure. Lunch was very good." He smiled widely, but when she did not immediately respond, he frowned. "Are you sure you're alright?"

She felt a lump form up in her throat as visions replayed in her mind. "It was so real."

"Do you want to tell me about it?" He ran his hand down her gooseflesh-ridden arms.

"I was in a cave," she began uncertainly, "and there were others there, people, but not quite people. I knew their names, knew them almost as well as myself, but now I can't remember for the life of me. We were trapped and there was no way out."

"You have vivid dreams," he informed her, before kissing a line down her dress-clad chest. "I had a dream too, you know?"

"Oh?" She arched a brow curiously.

"Yes." He gathered the material of her dress, bunched around her thighs, and dragged it higher. "Shall I demonstrate to you how much more…enjoyable my dream was compared to yours?" he asked with a sly twist of his lips.

Hermione narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "I have half a mind you lie awake thinking about such things, and it wasn't a dream you had after all."

"Ah, but it was a dream, a very good dream. It's only fair you should reap the benefits of it as well."

"Pardon me if I'm still a little shaken up." But her tone had taken on a husky edge and her caramel orbs had darkened measurably.

"Lie back," he demanded.

For some reason, the order sent heat, unbidden, to her core. When he sat above her like that, with his fringe hanging just above eyes, hot, silver gaze raking over her, issuing commands as he was, she was near helpless to resist him. She soon forgot the inner turmoil that had been churning since she'd awoke.

"I really have grown quite attached to this dress," he informed her, leaning down to nuzzle her cloth-covered breast, before opening his mouth around her hardened peak.

"Is this what you were dreaming about," she said, gasping when he yanked the material down to expose her chest to cool sea air.

He laved and suckled one side before turning his attention to the next, and Hermione found her thoughts rapidly fleeing her. "Not quite," he answered, taking her dress in his hands and hauling it the rest of the way up her body. She raised her bum off of the ground and lifted her arms to help him, her cheeks staining red even as she realized what the action meant. He flung the white frock away and it drifted noiselessly down some feet away in the sand. "I had other plans."

She gulped, familiar trepidation mingled with embarrassment surfacing as it often did where he was concerned. Everything with Draco was new territory, and so far she'd been allowing her heart to lead the way, but was such a thing appropriate? They had never done such things in the daylight and her cheeks became tinged with shame.

"You're so beautiful," he assured her. "Not even a goddess could rival your beauty." Hermione wanted to ask if the sun had tainted his mind, but she could see the sincerity in his eyes and she didn't wish to ruin the moment. "Let me pleasure you—I want to make you feel good."

Her breath hitched in her throat. "You do," she replied, baffled. "You always do."

Draco's stare grew intense, and it became difficult to meet his gaze. "Let me do so in another way." He lightly pulled up her knees, and gently pushed them apart.

Despite the most prevalent feelings of fear and embarrassment that warred with each other, underneath, there was a building desire igniting deep in the pit of her abdomen. All the sensations colliding together made her paralyzed with fear, resulting in her allowing him to proceed with whatever diabolical plan he wished to enact.

"Let me," he said silkily, adding fire to the flame that was quickly overpowering widespread worry that ruled her. "I only want to taste you…to bring you to pleasure," he dipped his head lower between her legs, and Hermione tensed in shock at the sight, "over and over…"

When she felt his breath, just there, against her most sensitive flesh, already slick with desire, she very nearly reared up in a panic, bracing herself to flee. Perhaps she could run to the other side of the island? The elusive side she'd only seen at the top of the falls? She could escape from the shame of whatever had been about to transpire and leave, never to think of it again. He had likely anticipated her doubt, for he dug both of his hands into the softness of her hips, effectively pinning her down to the spot.

Her heart beat wildly in her chest. She felt vulnerable, like a fool, this type of situation would never happen at home—certainly not in proper society. Yet here she was, an active participant, and she should definitely stop him, yes, stopping him was the obvious answer—

Hermione let out a gasp of surprise when she felt his tongue touch her intimate flesh. It was like nothing she'd ever felt before, and all the troublesome thoughts she'd been thinking were quickly wiped from her mind. A jolt of pleasure raced through her, causing her to arch against his grasp, but this time, not with the intention of escaping, but with the innate intention of receiving more of the glorious friction she'd only briefly felt.

"That's it," his voice was tender but his face was feral. "Take the pleasure I give to you." Another lick, eliciting another unexpected buck of the hips from her. "I want you to enjoy what I do for you."

A moan that did not sound at all like it could have escaped from her mouth, so fraught with need, penetrated the air, and then his tongue was caressing, twirling, melting inside of her, and she could no longer think, could no longer focus on anything, save for the indescribable sensations she was feeling thanks to his skillful attentions.

Feeling bolder, she chanced a glance at Draco, nestled between her thighs with his head buried between her legs. The sight of him there, and the feeling of his tongue darting between her folds elicited the most exquisite sensations. She could feel a coil of tension building and threatening to snap—if only prodded in the right direction. He gently grazed a sweet spot, causing a moan to tumble from her mouth. Dizzy with want, she gripped the blanket for support, her body quivering as the pleasure mounted low in her belly.

She was helpless to suppress the passionate sounds that issued from her lips. "Please," she begged, arching further into his touch.

She felt the intensity of his hungry gaze before she dragged her eyes up to meet it. "Please," he drawled, breaking away from her. The tone of his voice was low and oddly hypnotic. "Please what?"

She frowned. "You know," she faltered. "I can't…"

He reached down, his nose nuzzling against her neck and his breath fanning against her bare throat. "Yes you can," he whispered seductively. It was all very difficult to concentrate as his fingers traced against her silken folds teasingly.

All logical thought fled when he moved his fingers just so, twisting them so they flickered around that sweet spot again. She arched up, a litany of demands issuing from her throat as she shamelessly pressed against him. His free hand came to rest on her waist, anchoring her securely down. It was madness—delicious and complete madness.

"Stop teasing," she bade. "Make me feel good," the demands fell from her mouth of their accord, "bring me pleasure."

Eyes darkened with unabashed lust, his hand moved from her hip to wrap instinctively in the curls of her wild hair. Never stopping the motion of his fingers, she allowed his tongue to slip past her teeth, and gently scrape across the cavern of her mouth, exploring its sweetness and causing her to taste her own.

He feasted on her like she were some especially decadent treat. The throbbing ache deep inside her core combined with the added use of his fingers brought her to the precipice of bliss many times, only to be yanked cruelly back in a battle for dominance.

"Draco," the word sounded like an incantation to a spell, and she was helpless to manage anything else.

He finally took pity on her and sensing her desperation, increased the speed of his tongue whilst curling his features just so, and guiding her over the elusive edge she'd been reaching for. The universe exploded behind her eyes as the coil of desire snapped, causing her body to clench and quiver as pleasure spiked through her, magnified even moreso by the powerful magic that bristled forcefully through her until it found solace in his own magic.

It took her several seconds to calm her panting and regain some semblance of reality. It was almost embarrassing how thoroughly rocked she felt after being with Draco. Typically, she never stopped thinking, but at times with him, thoughts simply fled her mind and she was hardpressed to formulate words.

Now she could feel him, hot and ready against her thigh. The desire had not left his eyes and his body was strained with the need for release. Emboldened, she sat up and reached for him.

"Hermione," he said around a hiss. "You don't need—"

"Don't be silly." Gaze heavy lidded, she smiled before pumping him through his breeches once, then again. His eyes screwed closed in pleasure. "Now it's your—," she paused, something on the horizon having caught her attention. "Draco."

His eyes flew open at the abrupt change in tone and the clear panic in her voice.

"Sails." She gestured wildly to the wide expanse of blue ocean in front of them. "Just there."

Awareness crystallized in his silver eyes as he spotted the vessel. "That's a British ship," he informed her through gritted teeth. "My father's found us."

000

"Another red ale," Sirius demanded, setting his tankard down hard on the counter, before leaning back in the high stool and taking a look around the loud pub. The bartender took the stein and refilled it generously with more of the thick bronze liquid.

Aruba—a cesspool of people with convoluted bloodlines. Non-magical and magical folk alike mingled freely throughout the island. For years he heard threats of Imperials coming to civilize the place, but thus far, the place remained a safe haven for people like him and Riddle's long reach did not extend to his Caribbean sanctuary. It was total anarchy, the leadership was a joke that could easily be bought off with a couple galleons, sickles even; money went far in Aruba. It was the perfect place to run an illegal co-op for the Order as crops were plentiful on the island. Money could turn a no into a yes quicker than any spell he'd ever performed, and the Order had plenty of that, they were first and foremost pirates, after all.

"Black," a whiny voice jolted Sirius from his private thoughts. He looked up to see a fiery red-haired number sauntering towards him. Penny, or was it Lucy?—did not look entirely pleased with him. He quickly jogged his memory to see if the wench had any grievances with him. He'd been quite knackered since he'd last shown face on the island. "You left in such a hurry last time." She shook her head disapprovingly. "And after I gave you a free job and everything."

"Did I?" Sirius did not even have to feign innocence as he couldn't remember for the life of him what she was referring to. Beside him, his partner, Minnie, snorted in annoyance and pulled her hat down low over her eyes. "I must have been remiss to leave such a beautiful creature like you in such haste."

The girl preened under his praise. "I'll say you were." Abruptly her glare turned reproachful. "I usually charge five sickles for such a service." She grinned, displaying surprisingly straight teeth, as she trailed a carefully manicured hand up his chest.

Minnie sighed, before jumping from her chair, and unceremoniously hauling Sirius from his seat. "We don't have time for this," she muttered, irritation lacing her tone. She turned to face the unknown woman. "You don't want this one, lass—he's been with scores of women, has diseases, he does."

The redhead gasped, appraising Sirius in a new light.

He was about to object, but Minnie pulled him roughly away, shooting him a look that could only be described as exasperated. "Not this time, Sirius. You won't be taking any Muggle prostitutes to bed this trip."

"I think I remember her being a witch," he argued, feeling suddenly salty.

"You don't remember her at all," Minnie accused.

"You don't have to be such a killjoy. If I wanted that, I'd just take Ginevra."

"This isn't a regular mission." Minnie stopped just outside the pub, pulling Sirius into the shadows and away from the glow of the rowdy patrons. "Potter sent us to meet with Circe, not only to pick up supplies. Besides—," she pointed inside the club, "you see him?"

Sirius squinted his eyes, peering into the smoky room. "Who?"

"The big-Viking-looking brute; the one nursing a tankard but not drinking much. That's one of Riddle's men. And you mean to bring down the house like you usually do, instead of staying on your toes around an Imperial."

Sirius broke away angrily from her grip, hastily lighting a cigar and taking a whiff before he deigned answer her. "I get the job done every time, don't I?"

"Only because I'm here to get you out of your messes."

"So you say." Sirius glanced again at the man, realizing that he did look fairly familiar. "I can tell he's a wizard, and a Pureblood, by the way he carries himself."

"Can you, now?" Minnie rolled her eyes as if to say his observation was obvious.

"That's Rowle; we knew him from school."

"I never attended Hogwarts," Minnie reminded him, snatching the cigar and taking a whiff for herself. "But I can spot one of you from a mile away."

Sirius frowned. Did Rowle's presence signify that Riddle was making good on his threat? Was he here to scope out the scene ahead of time and report his findings back to Court? Sirius worried that the next time he arrived, he might see Aruba converted to look a lot like the British capital, and not the wild island town he'd come to love. Would Muggles and Mudbloods soon be categorized in their respective places? King Riddle had already accomplished such feats on larger islands and was currently tackling the untamed mainland. It wouldn't be long before he had everything in a perfect model of what he wanted it to be.

"Come on, Sirius," Minnie tugged on his sleeve and began walking towards the port. "Let's go to the docks and take the Valor to Circe's inlet. We have actual work to do."

"She's not going to be there, you know," Sirius informed her in a bored tone, absently examining his nails in a Pureblood habit he'd yet to break.

"How do you know? It's where she lives, isn't it?"

"She hasn't been there ever since giving us the information, reluctantly ,might I add." He leveled his stare at her. "The temperamental creature wasn't pleased with us our last visit. If Potter expected Circe to be waiting quietly in hermit solitude, he'd have come himself."

"That's not true," Minnie huffed, as they made their way around the narrow alleys of Star Port.

"Isn't it?" he queried. "Potter makes sure to be on all the meaningful missions—he doesn't trust anyone else enough to do it. This is just busy-work."

"And if she is there?" Minnie raised a carefully arched brow expectantly.

Sirius let his lips curl in a roguish smirk. "I'll admit that I was wrong, but it's not happening."

Minnie let out an indelicate snort. "Fat chance of that ever happening."

Sirius scowled as they continued to where their ship was docked. Of course, Minnie had been correct; there was actual real work to be done, and by the time they arrived, the crates with the eggs, chickens, and sugarcane were waiting for them to load. They did so quickly, levitating the supplies to the holding cell on the ship in silence until the task was finished.

He was working diligently on readying the ship for departure when a cloaked figure caught his attention.

"Rowle," Sirius called before he could think twice about it.

The dark-haired Viking's head shot up at being discovered, and he halted in his step.

"What brings you to my stomping grounds? I know we're old school chums, but you need permission to enter my territory." The threat was clear in Sirius' words and Minnie tensed, reaching for her wand with trepidation.

Rowle sensed the potential trouble brewing as well, and put his arms up slowly, making a show of not drawing his wand. "I don't want any trouble, Black," he said cautiously. "I've come to recruit a few crew members to help me secure passage back to England."

"I find it hard to believe you made it this far without crew members." Sirius clenched his jaw and gripped his wand for good measure.

"There were others," Rowle answered evasively.

"Must have been a substantial loss," Minnie said thoughtfully. "You look rather lonely now."

Rowle spoke through gritted teeth. "I won't have a Mudblood addressing me as if she were my equal."

Sirius smirked coldly. "You've had Muggles and Mudbloods serving you all evening, this is fucking Aruba," he needlessly reminded the seething wizard. "You've sustained losses, substantial ones like Minnie said, even if you won't admit it; so much so that you're desperate enough to seek help here, of all places. Tell me, Rowle, have you had to magically push your vessel this far all on your own? Have you not been able to rest until today?" The enraged look forming on the larger wizard's face was all the confirmation Sirius needed. He chuckled darkly. "Not from us, though; you didn't run into Order members."

"No," Rowle confirmed. "It wasn't Order members."

"So who was it?" Sirius wondered, more to himself than anyone else. "If it wasn't us, who else is a threat to Imperials? I must meet them," he grinned viciously, "and thank them."

"We all serve our masters," Rowle informed him coldly. "It's just a matter of realizing it or not."

"Potter is my leader, not my master, but it sounds like you've realized you precious King's true nature."

Rowle ignored the jibe. "Will you let me pass freely, or will there be trouble?"

Sirius eyed him dubiously. "Minnie and I could take you with our eyes closed." Rowle blew a large, disbelieving breath through his nose, but otherwise remained unreadable. "Regardless of if you think we could or not. But I don't believe we shall."

"No?" Minnie raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"No. Rowle is on a path. Perhaps it's best to see where it leads?"

"If you say so, Sirius." Minnie did not release her harsh grip on her wand.

Surprise briefly flickered over Rowle's face, before he inclined his head just barely in Sirius' direction. "I appreciate that, Black."

"Safe travels, old friend, and may they be illuminating."

000

Draco wrenched his hand away, for the tenth time forgetting himself and instinctively reaching for Hermione. It was despicable the way he'd had to abruptly change his demeanor towards her—that he was resorted to treating her as if she were but an ordinary servant and nothing more. He thought back to just a couple hours before, when they'd had mere minutes to make a plan.

"Maybe we should hide," Draco suggested, running his hand anxiously through his hair. "It's not so bad here, and we don't have to do this just for me."

Hermione shook her head, her brown eyes set and determined. "You need to see your family again. They'd be simply heartbroken if they thought you were lost at sea. Despite everything you've said about them—it's clear they love you." She clenched her jaw, and gripped the sides of her dress. "And I don't wish to be separated from you. Whatever happens—I want to go at it together."

Draco couldn't stand still as he quickly flicked through his thoughts in an attempt to formulate a plan. "You'll have to play the part of my servant. I can protect you that way. So long as you are in my household, I'll see to it that you don't come to any harm, but honestly, Hermione—I believe you're safer here. They'll throw you in Azkaban if you let slip in front of anyone…"

"I don't care." She shook her head, sinking her teeth in her bottom lip. "I've hidden undercover all my life—I know how to."

A mad laugh escaped his throat. "As barmy as a Gryffindor—I've no doubt you'd have been sorted with the lions had you attended Hogwarts." He closed the gap between them, and tilted her chin up gently. "It's of the utmost importance you be careful. This is only temporary, to get information like we discussed. If I don't like it, we are coming back here immediately and placing a permanent Praetexio charm on the place. Don't be a hero."

She pulled away sharply. "Draco—we aren't cowards."

"Merlin's balls." His father swore. "Is it really necessary to delay our departure to England further by filling this ship up with foreign food?"

Draco glanced at Lucius, who was leaning against the railing of the ship and watching as crew members brought fruit and fresh water aboard.

"Citrus is good on the seas," one of the hardened workers shouted, "helps against the Scurvy."

"Scousers," Lucius snarled under his breath and then louder, "As if any wizard of noble birth could succumb to something so pathetically Muggle." He held his white handkerchief over his nose, clearly displaying his disgust for nearly everything.

"Ain't muggle," the same crew member corrected, "that would be a human disease."

Lucius eyed the man until he walked out of hearing range. "Do you see how they treat me?" he appealed to his son. "It's been like this the whole bloody time. The things I go through for you, but it was worth it, I was right and you were here all along. All will be well soon." He clapped him jovially on the arm. Then, spotting Hermione standing a couple paces behind him, he bade her forward. "You girl, help those men take those baskets below so we can hurry out of this place."

Draco saw a flash of defiance flicker over her face before she thought better of it, ducking her head and hurrying to comply.

"Stop."

His command caused her to freeze mid-stride. "Father," he said, turning to Lucius. "Hermione is not that kind of servant."

"Really." Lucius raised his eyebrows speculatively. "You call her...Hermione?"

"She's been my companion for several months." The blood at his temples was pounding, and he felt near to snapping. The previous joy of seeing his father was somewhat diminished by the great risk they faced in returning.

"And what, pray tell, type of servant is she?"

Draco paused for a few seconds until he worked up the strength to force the words out. "A house servant, of course. And my own personal slave. I won't lend her to anyone else."

"What will your mother say?"

"Blast what Mother says."

Lucius glanced at Hermione, appraising Draco's witch in a new light. "I think the days in the sun have dulled your senses. We need to speak about your future, and put your childhood escapades in the past. If she's to be a liability, a weakness—,"

"She saved me," he spat angrily. "Not just from a watery grave when I was stunned and floating to my death, but again on shore, when I was forced to survive the Muggle way."

"Draco." All derisiveness had fled his face to be replaced by wariness. "You mustn't say such things, surely you know not to—,"

"I know," he drawled loftily. "But I'm telling you—I want you to know. You want my compliance? You want me to accept the position of Chancellor, should the King still offer it to me? Be sure not to oppose me in this, Father—Hermione is off limits."

Releasing a puff of air, Lucius gave a stiff nod. "A personal servant, of course, it is not so unheard of for a wizard to take a female servant." His father smiled, and he took a step forward, catching his son in a fierce embrace. "It's good to have you back, Son. You don't know how worried we've been. Your mother and grandfather, as well. I'm sure we can make this all right. We'll just need to go over a few things before you see the King."

"Whatever you say, Father." He turned towards Hermione, wishing for nothing more than to reach for her and hold her tightly. When would he next have the opportunity to do so? Would it be too risky to be with her? Yes, you prat. Not to mention far too selfish. "Hermione."

She tilted her head up, meeting his eyes stoically. "Yes, Master?"

His gut twisted violently at the sound of those abhorrent words. Swallowing back bile, he issued an order. "See to it you have adequate boarding down below. I'll not have you sharing barracks."

She looked slightly perplexed by the demand, but made to comply anyway, turning quickly and walking straight into a crew member who promptly brushed her aside. She lost her footing and stumbled, falling none too gracefully to the floor of the ship.

Draco instinctively made to help her, but catching himself, he amended the movement and instead went for the crew member, grabbing him roughly by his loose-fitting vest. "Would you treat a woman that way?"

The hardened man bared his teeth at Draco. "She's a sodding Muggle." He shrugged, as if Draco was unaware of his companion's blood status.

"How much do you value your life?" Draco asked with a sneer. "Fancy growing old?" The crewman's eyes grew wide with alarm at the clear threat. "Display your grotesque manners in front of me again, lay a hand on her again, and you won't live to see old age, I can promise you that."

Hermione watched from the sidelines, stunned at his rash action, gripping the tattered hem of her dress anxiously.

Lucius was the one who broke the tenseness of the moment. "It's about time someone put them in their place. Come, Son, take one last look at your island before we sail away for good."

Draco motioned to Hermione to come by his side as well, resolving to secure her boarding himself later. It would be awhile before they saw shore again, and it wouldn't be near as stunning a view as this Caribbean paradise. He felt her draw to the right side of him, carefully placing her hands on the ship's railing, and likely coming to the same conclusion as him.

Lucius shot a glance at the two of them before swallowing discreetly. "Lot's happening at the manor, what with Solstice season upon us. Your mother is outdoing herself again. I'm sure the King will even frequent a meal with us. You'll be excited to know we have a guest staying from Barnton…"

Draco attempted to tune out his father and focus all his attention on his island home...his refuge...his personal paradise. Soon it would be merely a speck on the sea before disappearing completely. He was determined to make it back here, once Hermione realized the situation back home was hopeless and far too big a job for any two people to handle, he would stock a ship with all the comforts from home he missed and he would come back to this place, with Hermione safely in tow, and his parents, too. They would likely grumble first, but ultimately, their desire was to see Draco happy and with grandchildren—they would eventually grow used to the idea.

He could actually make out the tip of the waterfall above the cliff's edge and the sweeping mountain views from behind. There was so much of the island they had yet to see, but even the bit they had been afforded was perfection. I will return here, he silently vowed, lightly brushing his finger on the inside of Hermione's wrist in a comforting gesture. No matter what—we'll make it back.

000