Love Once Never

The wind was blowing in uneven flight amongst the high trees, green forest swaying under the midnight blue sky. Waves were wildly rising and crashing on reefs. Dark thunderous clouds threatened to turn off the full moon's dim light.

In the middle of it, was a ferry.

Any able seaman would have known that it was suicide to attempt a crossing under such conditions. Unfortunately for Hogwart's two undergraduates, Captain Orlof Winnifred didn't seem to know or care. Captain Winnifred was a crazy-looking man with a single eye and a splint for a left leg. Something Hermione would have fully expected to find in a fantasy book. His hair was white and wiry, and he was dressed in an old blue trench coat that co-ordinated with the horribly clashing colours of the boat.

The teenagers casted a questioning glance at Professor McGonagall, who merely wished them good luck and told them promptly not to inflict any irreparable harm on each other. Hermione gulped before picking up her magically shrunken luggage. She walked onto the shaky deck, turning around only to see Draco do the same, though with much more apprehension in his eyes.

The captain happily took their luggage and motioned for them to sit down in the cabin.

They quickly sat down in the wooden seats furthest from each other and looked around at their surroundings. Hermione was glad to not have to trust her legs to keep balance. She had never been one for boats. Carefully placing her luggage on the seat next to her, the girl looked out at the unruly sea behind the somewhat dirty glass.

Draco took out his book and began reading, carefully not looking out the window. One of his hands was gripping tightly to his seat, holding on for dear life, (With a captain like Orlof Winnifred that was perfectly understable) and the other hand held on to his tome in case it would fall near the window. Hell would freeze over before he looked out there!

Five minutes later, a bleak rain started to fall like bullets.

"We'll be there soon, kids!" Captain Orlof called merrily to them from the front of the ferry.

"Soon, my arse," was Draco's reply.

Hermione shot him a disapproving look, which he did his best not to notice. With a heavy sigh, she went back to staring out the window. She already missed Harry and Ron. She couldn't help but wonder if they would even think of her. Or would they be too busy caught up with the herd of hormone struck girls trying to get the attention of Hogwart's resident heartthrobs?

She sighed. That was the problem with being a bookworm. Her knowledge of the not so scientific aspects of hormones was non-existent.

"What are you looking at, Mudblood?"

She shot up from her slouching position and looked around. She hadn't even realised that her eyes had moved to the blonde during her reverie.

"Not your ugly face, I can assure you," she shot back.

"Get a life, Granger."

The nerve of him. He could've at least been grateful that she hadn't turned him in.

Perhaps it was a mistake. They would have their wands during their stay and surely he could attack her whenever he wanted. But that was unlikely, she reasoned. They would be only two on the island, and people were sure to suspect him if she ended up dead. But there were always the spells like the Severo hex she supposed. That killed the victim and made it look like a wild animal had attacked her.

A shiver ran down her spine at the thought. She could just see it now, her body lying like a rag doll on the beach with Draco cackling like a lunatic. She sneaked a look at his reading form and wondered how a sixteen year old could ever be so evil. And how she was ever going to survive two months alone with him.

The boy once again broke her musings. But this time it wasn't a snide comment that made her look. Instead it was a shout of something she'd only ever imagined Ron would say.

A snow owl was digging its claws into Draco's head and she couldn't help but laugh at the whole situation. So it seemed that the incredible ferret was once again vincible.

"Hedwig, down!" she managed to say before bursting into another round of laughter.

The snow owl gave him one last hit before hooting and landing gracefully on her lap.

"Good Hedwig, good girl!" Hermione said, still laughing, and began untying the piece of parchment from the owl's leg.

"Oh look at that," Draco drawled from across the room. "Potty and Weasel can't even last a day without their precious little know-it-all."

She was too happy to see the Ron's untidy scrawl (what happened to Harry?) to pay attention to the blonde's remarks. She gave Hedwig a biscuit from her bag before unfolding the letter.

M'ione,

How's it going? The Ferret Prince annoying you yet? Don't worry, as soon as you find a cure we can all give him a good thumping. Neville melted another cauldron today, school's really boring without you. No one to tell us what to do or well, you know, just be there to talk to. I used Hedwig 'cause I didn't really trust Pig with sending a letter all the way to Norway. What's it like there? You have to tell me everything! How's the cottage? The beach? Any clues for the cure? Harry's really sorry he can't write. Fred's gone nuts with Quidditch practice. I miss you. So does Harry and Gin.

Ron.

She breathed out a sigh of relief when she realised that Harry hadn't had another brush with death. Hermione re-read the letter again and chuckled at Ron's curiosity. She couldn't help but smile at the one sentence. I miss you. It was the little things that made her so glad he was her friend. She pressed the letter to her chest and patted Hedwig.

"What did it say, Granger?" sneered Draco. "The Daft Duo can't make it through the day now that you've taken the one brain between the three of you?"

Hermione got up and walked the few steps towards his seat before slapping him across the cheek.

"I think you've been using one too many dead brain cells," she snapped.

He glared at her.

"Twice in a day, I'm flattered, Mudblood."

He spat out the last word like it was a bad flavour in his mouth.

"At least I don't wait on my father's beck and call,"

She didn't know why but she had to bring up the subject of his father. And the dreadful scar on his left wrist. She just had to know that she could trust him not to hurt her. Then there was the little voice that had slowly faded during the plane ride. The little voice that said she had to at least try to save him. From himself.

"You're scared, Granger," he said. "I can feel it."

She just stood there and looked right into his eyes.

"You're a Death Eater. How am I suppose to trust you?"

He let out a small laugh.

"I need that cure as much as you do," he replied. "I'm not about to kill someone I can use."

She was shocked at his bluntness. He had always been blunt about her 'flaws', but twice that day, he had revealed his full intentions without much prodding on her behalf.

The nagging little voice in her head starting kicking in again and she wondered to herself why she even cared what happened to the arrogant git in front of her.

"Look, Malfoy. I'm not gonna nag you anymore after this, and let it be known that I don't really care what happens to you, this is for the thousands of people your decision will effect. Consider why you're doing this. Is that mark on your arm there because you truly believe in all that it stands for, or is it there 'cause your father said that its meanings were true?"

Hermione wasn't really expecting an answer from Draco. But she definitely didn't expect him to laugh at her.

"You think everything's so black and white, don't you?" he said. "I'll tell you something, Granger. For you it is, but not everyone has the comfort. Has your father ever changed so much you don't recognise him? Has your mother ever cried in a sobbing heap about her 'lost love' and then continued to throw vases at various memorabilia? Before you start preaching crap to me, maybe it'll do well to do some homework."

The boy was indeed full of surprises.

Speechless, she was only able to turn around and walk back to her seat.

"And while you wait," he called out at her. "Keep your long nose under control. Slytherins don't need help from Gryffindor Mudbloods."

Hermione let out a sigh. He could be such an irritating git sometimes. Most of the time. Right. All the time.

Staring out the window, she could barely see the sea. Instead, images of her, Ron and Harry, laughing and joking, were clouding her vision. Her wonderful parents, who may be boring at times but loved her all the same. For once in her life, she was grateful of all the times she had had to help Harry fight Voldemort. At least she knew her role on this Earth. However, as he had so delightfully pointed out, the boy sitting in front of her did not have that solace.

She scolded herself for not having turned him in, until she remembered Sirius, and what Azkaban had done to him. A few years of taunting wasn't worth life in a hell hole. Not when reason could still be talked into him.

Sure, she had suspected him of being a Death Eater as soon as she knew what one was. But she had never really known the full extent of what it meant until that moment when she had pulled off his watch. It didn't mean just that he was supported the Dark Lord. It meant that he, Draco Malfoy, a mere sixteen year old, had already given up his life over to the cause of exterminating her kind.

Looking over at him completely engrossed in his book, she realised what a disconcerting thought that really was.

"Here we are, kids!" came Captain Orlof's cheery voice.

Hermione couldn't help but wonder how someone could be so happy in such a time as this. Then again, the weather was his only problem.

"We're here, Malfoy," she said.

"I know," he replied, before packing away his book. "Are you bringing that petty excuse of an owl with you?"

It was all Hermione could do to stop Hedwig from attacking him with all her might.

Grabbing her shrunken luggage, Hermione followed the enthusiastic captain out of cabin. Draco slowly walked up after them. Hedwig looked at him defiantly before perching on the ferry's rails.

Rain was still falling like bullets and the wind was still blowing a gale. The creaked and wobbled wooden docks the ferry was floating near seemed even worst than the ferry itself, and that was saying something.

"Ladies first, Granger," Draco said.

Captain Orlof, taking it as a sign of curtesy, patted the boy on the back and told Hermione she was indeed lucky living with such a gentleman. It took her what little remained of her self-control not to tell him the only reason he was letting her go first was to make sure the dock supported human weight.

She bid the cheery Captain good bye and thanked him before cautiously stepping on the dock. Taking a few steps, she slowly made her way across the rickety dock. She tentatively took one step at a time, making sure not to fall through one of the many gaps in between the wooden boards.

Jumping the small gap between the end of the dock and the shore, Hermione landed on the stony ground and breathed a deep sigh of relief.

Draco followed in turn, taking much more time than she had and making sure that every single step he took was far from a hole in case the surrounding floorboards would choose to collapse.

"Good luck!" called the Captain to them, and so they made their way to the small cottage on the end of the path. Hermione was too busy running ahead and trying not to fall over to actually remember that she was a witch and could have performed a simple repelling charm. Thus, when she finally stumbled through the wooden doors of their stone abode, she found herself dripping wet and exhausted.

"Granger, light a fire," a perfectly dry Draco commanded while walking through the wooden door.

"I'm not a house elf," Hermione snapped. "And even if I was you should take into consideration the amount of work they do for you and how dedicat-"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, shut up," Draco interrupted. "I don't need a lecture about your spew trash. This shack is disgusting enough."

Now plagued by images of a regurgitating Draco, Hermione quickly got changed before deciding to have a look around the cottage. Exactly as Professor McGonagall had promised, the cottage contained a bathroom, a common, a kitchen, and to her disdain, one bedroom. She promptly decided that she would be sleeping on the common's couch for the two months they were there, even though the bedroom contained two beds.

For slight comic relief, she weighed the options in her hands.

"Getting hexed to death by a sociopath. Giving up slight comfort for sake of life. I wonder."

She chuckled to herself lightly and imagined what her best friends would do if they were with her now. Harry would probably attempt to do as much work as possible to get away from Draco. Then there was Ron, who would probably try to blast the git into oblivion. She let out another laugh at the thought and decided to make herself some hot chocolate.

She was surprised to see that Draco had actually done something for the better good and lit a fire. He was lying sprawled on the couch, reading Diaboliche, and murmuring to himself every now and again.

Maybe it was because of the letter from Ron, or maybe because it was she'd always loved the sound of waves, Hermione was in a particularly happy mood despite Draco's unwelcomed presence.

The kitchen was surprisingly well equipped for its small size. And a few minutes later, she walked out of the kitchen carrying two steaming mugs of chocolate instead of one.

Hermione set them both carefully on the table and proceeded to turn Draco's book the right way up when she noticed that he was actually reading it upside down. But he simply turned it back upside down and continued to read.

She rolled her eyes and shoved the chocolate closer to him.

"Thankyou, Granger," she muttered sarcastically to herself.

Draco didn't budge.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione curled up in her couch and started to sip the chocolate.

Draco still kept on reading.

"It's not poisoned, you know," she said derisively.

Draco finally looked up from his book, but only to raise a perfectly arched eyebrow.

"For Merlin's sakes! I made you a drink, you'd at least have the decency to drink it," she said.

He regarded her with a superior look.

"I never asked you to make it for me. It was purely your decision."

A snort of disbelief escaped Hermione's lips. "Did you go to a special git academy or something?"

Now it was Draco's turn to laugh. "Not unless Potter's decided to take over as Headmaster of Hogwarts."

Hermione shot him a 'look' before sighing in exasperation and reaching over for the mug of chocolate.

"Fine then, don't drink it. Now hand it over here."

An amused smirk danced on Draco's lips. "Such an Indian giver, aren't you? The last time I checked, this mug of hot chocolate was at my disposal."

A cushion flew across the room and hit Draco in the face.

"Such uncivilised behaviour coming from one such as you, Granger, is to be expected."

Hermione furiously glared before stomping up to the bedroom and grabbing her book from her bag. Then, realising that the only place where the light was good enough for her to read was exactly the place she'd just left, she stomped back down the hallway again and threw herself on the couch.

"Moody little Mudblood, aren't you?" came Draco's drawl.

"Arrogant little bastard, aren't you?" came Hermione's sharp retort.

"Touché."

And thus the short conversation ended.

Reflecting on the last eleven hours, Hermione came to a horrible realisation. For the next eight weeks, she was going to be living in absolute HELL.

First, there was the fact that the only person who she would come in contact with was the one and only Draco Malfoy, of all the people, which also happened to be a Death Eater. Maybe she would meet a penguin or two if she was lucky. Except that there weren't penguins in Norway. She was therefore definitely screwed. To put it simply.

Hermione took a few deep breathes, making sure to not look at Hogwarts' resident spoiled brat. She then lifted her book back onto her lap, but instead found her gaze wandering around the room.

The living room wasn't bad in itself. It was decorated in a cute farm style, with wooded floors and white wallpaper with little red strawberries on them. On the wall right in front of her was a painting of a setting sun. The waves below were crashing against the rocks, and every now and again seagulls would fly past the floating clouds.

Hermione let down the pretence of reading about Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy's undying love for Elizabeth Bennet and let her whole concentration focus on the sun. It was a blood red, with bits of yellow and orange and specks of gold.

Not to her surprise, Hermione found herself thinking about Ron. His hair looked almost exactly like that sun. Eight weeks was a long time to be stuck on an island working with you arch nemesis. Eight weeks was also an extremely long time to be away from one's friends, and she couldn't help but wonder if Ron would have a girlfriend to keep him company.

Okay, she admitted to herself. So maybe I'm not glad I'm his bestfriend just because he's such a wonderful friend.

But no matter how adorable the redhead could be at times, Hermione was brought back to reality by the fact that Ron only went for the pretty girls. Just like how Lavender went for the good-looking boys like Torrin McNamara, Terry Boot and...Draco Malfoy.

She finally let her gaze fall on the irritating Slytherin. He seemed almost cat-like, lying on the couch, one hand resting across the back, and the other holding his book upside down in front of him.

Maybe she could turn him into a type of secondary project. Try to convince him that somewhere deep down was a boy capable of doing some good.

Of course, she'd probably have to convince herself first. But it wouldn't exactly be her worst nightmare come true if she managed to convince him to change sides.

"Just kill the tart and get it over with, for Merlin's sakes! You have a rope for a reason!" came an irritated groan from the Slytherin's lips.

Yes, this was definitely going to need a lot of work.