Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter or the Little Mermaid. I don't have that kind of genius -.-
"C'mon Ginny, it'll be fun!"
Ginny rolled her eyes, strongly doubting that there would be any fun to be had with what Luna had in mind. A group of boys from Durmstrang had invited them on a tour of their boat, claiming that it had many interesting carvings, feats of magical architecture and there would be a small get together afterwards, for select guests. Obviously Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood were "select guests" along with a few Slytherin girls. No Hufflepuffs, she noted wryly, nor any boys. It would be. . . interesting, to say the least.
The tour was interesting enough, getting a good poke around the ship that was the Durmstrang mode of transport was gratifying, to say the least. Mainly because it was no more magical than the train that Hogwarts students used to get to and from Hogwarts every year. It was well made, but not particularly magical, apart from being totally impenetrable when it came to leaks. All the movement and steering was done by the students, which was supposed to teach the students something, but Ginny had stopped listening and didn't find out what the lesson was. As pretty as the boy was, he didn't have much going for him upstairs apart from boasting and self-importance.
Several hours later saw the redhead leaning against the deck railing of the ship, wishing she could throw herself into the murky waters behind her. Merlin, she was so bored. It wasn't that the boys weren't good-looking. They were. It wasn't that she already had a boyfriend. She didn't. She just knew that she and the other girls were only there for one reason, and they were being plied with firewhiskey until they were compliant. She had tipped most of the liquid over the side of the ship, and pretended wooziness so she could stay away from the group who were giggling at the world at large.
She wasn't going to last much longer, plus she knew that the Professors would be looking for them. Ron would be looking for her, as would Fred and George. They'd be worried about her. So would Hermione, who had been pointedly left out of the conversation when the cute Durmstrang boy came over to talk to her. Harry would probably worry too. Her heart twisted at the thought. Harry didn't notice how much she liked him. He probably didn't notice anything about her, except that she was clumsy around him, and she was his best friend's sister.
Her stomach lurched with the movement of the ship, the sound of the water lapping against the sides didn't help much. The ship was rocking a lot more than it had been, and the sensation nauseated her. It's time to get back to dry land. She thought firmly as the ship rocked violently to one side, and then to the other. The others had noticed the ship's extreme movements, and were starting to squeal in surprise at the motion, staggering back and forth. The ship creaked under the force of the rocking, and raised voices could be heard below deck. Fear shot through her as the raised voices suddenly turned to screams, and Ginny felt the ship shudder beneath her. She saw the others screaming, the boys were trying to lower the rowboats, when an explosion tore through the deck of the ship, sending everyone flying and splitting the ship in half. Ginny watched as if everything was happening in slow motion, a ball of fire burst from the centre of the hull, blasting the mast off into the water, sending jagged lumps of broken timber flying in every direction. She could almost hear screams under the sound, which filled her ears with an awful roaring, and she felt herself being tossed away from the blast like a rag doll, towards the cold water that the ship was perched on. She hit the water, slammed her head off something hard, and remembered nothing more.
It was getting dark by the time Draco reached the ship, and the water was cooler than it had been when the sun was in the sky. He hadn't realized that the ship was so far away , and his shoulders were aching from the strong strokes he used in conjunction with his tail to propel himself through the water. He should have been making his way back home by now. If he left it too late, he'd probably get himself lost, and he had only brought a small flint knife with him. He'd need the fading light to guide him home again, so that he could tell his own stories to awestruck kids, or compare experiences with his friends. He also needed to be home before his parents sent out search parties. As much as he loved them, he wouldn't be able to bear it if they shamed him by coming to look for him on a journey that all of his friends had made without mishap. Just a quick look at the thing on the water, and he would turn himself in the direction of home.
Draco almost bumped his head on the wooden hull of the ship in his haste to get close to it, peering at the shape looming over him in the fading sunset, and saw light streaming over the top of the shape. With the light came the sounds of laughter, and of music. The sound of the music caught his attention, and he sought for a way to lift himself closer to it. This came in the form of a few conveniently placed lumps of wood nailed securely to the hull of the ship, as a crude ladder to be used in the event that someone fell overboard. They were mostly for decoration. Not that Draco knew that, and he used them to his advantage, hoisting himself up the ladder on strong arms, his tail hanging down after him, useless outside the water.
Several minutes later and minus several scales, he managed to reach deck-level of the ship's deck, and peered into the light of the deck, unseen by the people in the light. Draco had only ever heard of the Landfolk, that they walked on two legs, were as varied in skin colour as his own kind, their garments were drab and unimaginative and in general appearance they were as appealing as a Grindylow with scale-rot. Their own kind had beauty enough. Draco brought his mind back to where he was, and peered through the bars of the railing around the deck. All he could see were feet, encased in leather and other materials, and the hems of dark-coloured clothes. Some were blood-red, some were black. The voices and music seemed to be coming from somewhere higher. Being careful not to put his head between the railing, he looked up.
The males wore red, the females wore black, and most of them were grouped around one section of the deck, giggling and swaying slowly to the music. Most of them had paired off, and were moving against each other in ways that made Draco uncomfortable, and reminded him of the newly mated pairs back home. The ones who spent most of their time in their homes, where sounds of pleasure could be heard to anyone who paused long enough outside the glass-free windows of the houses in his hometown. On the deck of the ship, one couple had even gone so far as to lean against the railing close to where Draco watched, and the male fumbled to get beneath the females clothes, while she just leaned back and let him do as he liked, giggling and leaning her head on his shoulder, gasping when he nibbled at her neck or ears. Eventually he found his goal, and his arm moved rhythmically against her. She moaned and leaned into his touch, moving her legs apart. Draco turned his eyes away then, feeling his face heat up at seeing a moment that the Landfolk clearly didn't hold sacred and private.
His eyes scanned the deck of the ship. . . and landed on an angel. She leaned against the rail opposite him, head tilted down towards the floor she stood on, some kind of container in one hand and the other hand shoved into a pocket. The black of her clothes was stark against her pale, clear, smooth skin, both the robes and the harsh light of flames bleached her skin to yellowish bone, and lit her hair to fire that no torch could rival. Her eyes were brown, but lit with flecks of green, and the light of the torches turned the brown to amber. It struck Draco suddenly that his friends and family had lied. The Landfolk could be beautiful. This one was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. More beautiful than sunlight on water. Than his first taste of Surface Air. He knew in just seeing her that he couldn't live without her, not happily. His image of the women back home was marred by this pale, fiery-haired Landwoman.
He also knew, in the same moment, that he would never even speak to her, let alone love her openly. This was partly owing to the fact that he couldn't speak the language of the Landfolk, but also to the rules set down by his people. You cannot come into contact with a Human, or let yourself be seen by one.His heart felt like it had shattered in his chest. He couldn't stay there any longer. Her image was already seared into his mind, anyway. He had just started to scramble down when he slipped, flinging his hand out to catch the first piece of wood he could reach. This turned out to be the windowsill of one of the below-deck rooms. Out of sheer curiosity, he peered through, just to find out what Landfolk kept in their rooms. This one held black pots, some full, some empty. His folk had no use for items like that, and he wondered what they were used for. From the look of things, it held liquids, like water but. . . strange smells drifted from the room, and some liquids were thicker than water. He knew he should get back into the water, his skin was starting to feel uncomfortably tight and dry, but raised voices drew his attention back to the room. Two Landfolk were yelling at each other as loudly as they could, their faces twisted in anger. Draco was no stranger to anger, but on this scale was a bit frightening. Especially because they were holding the sticks that his parents had told him about. The ones that Wizards used to kill.
The fight escalated quickly, and they started shooting bolts of light at each other. Draco took this as his cue to slip away and swim for home as fast as he could. He sighed in relief as the water touched his scales and skin, refreshing him and relieving the dry, tight feeling. He was glad that his day at the Surface was over, and he would never have to stray away from the town again. He would be plagued with dreams of her, but he wouldn't have to go to places where she would be.
Boom! The sound roared under the water, and the shock of the blast sent Draco swimming away from the ship as fast as he could, only looking back when he was a safe distance away. There was fire on the water, and he could hear screams from the people on the ship. The ones that had survived. He was about to turn around and head for home, when a face swam into the fore of his mind. She had been on that ship. She could be hurt. She could be dead. He had to make sure.