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Stranded by Queen Sabreen

Format: Novella
Chapters: 8
Word Count: 33,621
Status: WIP

Rating: Mature
Warnings: Strong Language, Scenes of a Mild Sexual Nature

Genres: Mystery, Romance, Angst
Characters: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Seamus, Neville, Draco, Pansy, Fred, Blaise (M)
Pairings: Draco/Hermione

First Published: 12/23/2004
Last Chapter: 09/02/2007
Last Updated: 09/02/2007


She was drowning, a damsel in distress, awaiting her knight in shining armor to come rescue her. It was then he came, her savior, but a villian in reality, an evil devilish boy by the name of Draco Malfoy. And now she's stranded with him, and leaving is not an option.

[HBP & DH not included]
New banner by me | Ch. 8: here | Ch. 9: soon

Chapter 1: Savior
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By Queen Sabreen
aka Queen of Serpents

Disclaimer: The story is loosely based on the theme of The Lord of the Flies by William Golding. Harry Potter doesn't belong to me. I know that and you know that. Bring me a tissue please! Can't you see I'm crying!?!

Summary: She was drowning, but then he came. When she woke up, she found herself-not in the arms of her angel, but with the Devil himself. And what else? She's stranded with him and there's no way for her to leave.

Author's Note:

This is a contest entry for the Dracolov challenge!

One or more of the following must happen once in your story.

- A spell gone bad
- A dark curse, causing everyone to turn into their inner animal.
- Ms. Norris is kidnapped!
- A card game.
- A girl/boy has a problem the opposite sex would have.
- A crazy broomstick ride.
- Snape kisses Harry
- Peeves doing something Peeves-like.
- A contest or race
- Pansy getting caught sleeping with the DADA teacher.
- Draco loses his pants.
- Hermione knocks over all the bookcases in the library.
- Harry and Ron dress in drag.
- A play
- Hagrid gets a new pet.
- Fluffy saves the day!

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Chapter One: Savior

The water consumed her. She couldn't breathe. Cold as ice, the ocean's waves had captivated her. It went inside her nose, her mouth. Her hands flapped helplessly in her sides, desperate to keep up on the surface of the water. Desperate to live...

She couldn't keep her eyes open anymore. No more shouts of help-or any other noise-were being uttered by her lips. She could not. She was going under. She was slipping. Her head submerged under the water's currents, but she pulled back, her legs fighting with whatever energy she had left to keep her head where the oxygen was. Where life was.

But after a few seconds, she couldn't hold on any longer. There was nothing to grab onto. No one. Shouts drowned out her ears until all she was able to hear was the water's fierce waves pulling her away. Away; deep under, so she could hear no more, talk no more, breathe no more.

The light was fading. The water was entering her mouth. She closed it. Lower she went, her head going down as well. Her nose, and then her eyes. Bubbles of air were released from her open mouth, and she could see the darkness.


Death. It was near. So near.

Two hands grabbed her by her waist. Warm hands, strong hands. Lightness clouded the being's silhouette. She opened her eyes for a millisecond and saw those two silver orbs stare into her own; she closed hers at once. Silver hair was burned into her mind. An image of an angel. Her angel. Her savior.

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"What do you mean by 'we're stranded'!"

"You heard me, Granger. We're on an island and we're stuck."

"Can't we Apparate home?" she said, looking for her wand through her heavy soaked robes.

"Do you think I'm an idiot, Granger? Of course I tried to Apparate, but it didn't work!"

Hermione Granger ignored what he said, and tried anyway: pointing her wand to the sky, but not a single thing happened. She kicked the sand in frustration and then took off her heavy, wet robes, flinging it away from her in irritation. It was bad enough seeing his face when she woke up, but now she found out they were stuck on this island together. It was too much.

She remembered waking up with the craziest feeling. A dreaded feeling, but nevertheless crazy. It was an emotion that seemed as though she had nearly reached that end of the tunnel, but was pulled back into the living. She felt as though she saw the light go out and then flicker back on quicker than anything she ever saw or been aware of. It was eerie. It was scary. It was crazy.

Was she about to die?

Her head had been hurting as if it had been thrown around in a room full of Bludgers and had fallen off her broom. She had never personally experienced that particular event, but she imagined it would not have been remotely as bad as what she was feeling at the moment.

She spat out water from her mouth.

It was odd. She just dreamt that she was in the water, so why didn't she smell the oceans? And this weird taste in her mouth? Her stomach hurting, her lungs telling her they were struggling for air. It was a lot like her dream, or what would have happened if she survived it.

She had the craziest notion that she was drowning and that a dreamy guy, almost an angel, actually saved her. He had mercurial silver eyes and soft but strong arms. Yes, it could only be a dream.

Suddenly, that painful throb in her head subsided, and a coolness swept over her in a fog of light. She was shivering from the freezing cold. Her nerve endings tingled with a fierce pain. She needed warmth; she was going to freeze to death.

She was slowly beginning to understand her surroundings as awareness began to kick in her brain. Her ears picked up a sound, and instantly the chill was replaced with a warm cozy feeling. She felt like keeping her eyes closed forever, and she was still not in a state of complete awareness. A teeny bit of her dreamland was still there. She was aware of her water-drenched clothes, her soaking hair stuck to the front of her face, and something else too. A warm presence, which was also quite wet, but nevertheless comforting.

It was the image burning into her eyelids, however, that made her feel as though she wasn't quite awake. She could feel two intense eyes penetrating into her soul, even though hers were closed and she was too disoriented to speak. Her head felt like it was resting upon someone's lap, and she didn't want to get up-if she did, surely this vision in her mind would completely vanish. Yes, this could only be a dream. Or, at least, part of it.

Yet, that voice was definitely not a part of her dreams. She didn't need to open her eyes, for just hearing his voice jolted her from her thoughts. She opened her eyes to find herself staring into those exact silvery eyes that she had seen during that time. Time seemed to halt for that tiny millisecond. For that small time, she didn't know her name, or who she was, or anything else.

"Granger, oh for the love of Merlin, get up. You're wetting my clothes!" were the exasperated words he said, causing her to wake. Everything was fuzzy, except for those two eyes, and she didn't quite understand what she was thinking about. But as soon as his voice was registered in her brain, and she saw his smirking face over hers, she sat upright faster than the scar on The-Boy-Who-Lived's forehead. She coughed out water and other liquids from her mouth before wiping them with her hand and spinning around to face him, while her hand slipped into the wet pocket of her robes, taking out her wand in milliseconds.

"Malfoy?" she spat when she was fully awake. She was still somehow stuck between his legs, and had turned her head slightly in order to see him clearly. She figured he had her laid down between his legs with her head on one of his thighs, and was disgusted with the perverse thought her mind reflected on. Her head was hurting and the world was spiraling; she rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes, her grip on her wand never faltering.

"Finally, you're awake!" he said, frustrated. She noticed there was a wand in his hand as well. "I've been trying to wake you for hours!" When he saw her raised eyebrow and had looked her over quickly, a smirk tugged on his lips. Her clothes were extremely wet-so wet that they stuck to her skin, and he could see the outline of her baby blue bra under her white school shirt, exposed in the front due to her untied school robes. Her school shirt and robes were cold as they were wet, and she was involuntarily shivering. Was it because of the cold or the stare? He really didn't know.

"What? Aren't you happy to see me?" he drawled-in a voice many, including she, agreed was quite sexy indeed-when he caught site of her wand.

She rolled her eyes at his sneering face. "No one in their right mind would ever want to be happy when they see your ferret of a face, Malfoy," she retorted.

She got up and scanned the area, trying to sort out her mind as well as trying to figure out where they were. She also looked for clues as to what had happened the past few minutes while she was unconscious.

They were on a shore of some kind, and the sun had set minutes before, making the horizon a pretty color of red, purple, and a deep, dark blue, almost black. There were no clouds, and it seemed to her the sea stretched on for miles and miles, for she saw nothing in the way but just water. Turning her head slightly to where Malfoy was, she was able to see a small clearing full of sand and rocks, and a forest of some sort in the background.

"Uh, Malfoy? Where are we?" Hermione Granger said at last, her voice quavering.

She turned her whole body around so she could see him face to face. The smirk he wore had vanished from his lips, and he stared back at her with all expression drained from his face. There was silence for a long while as they both stared at their surroundings.

"Uh, Malfoy?" she tried again. She was getting scared now. All she remembered from their journey was rain, a whirlwind, lots of waves, and then darkness. It had all happened so fast that she didn't know what occurred, save the fact that she was saved by some sort of angel. And now... now she was left with an evil little boy: the devil himself. Plus, there was something strange about him that constantly made her wonder...

"Where are the others?" she asked, her voice's pitch rising as she began to panic. "Malfoy, if you don't tell where we are and what happened to the others I will--- I will--- I don't know what I will, but it won't be too good!" she snapped.

"I don't know!" he spat, getting to his feet. "I didn't really think about it, Granger. I was too busy trying to bloody wake you up!" he retorted. He looked at her and then sighed. "Well, actually, I think we're on an island. In fact, I'm most certain we're not just on an island, but we're stranded..."

And that was what led her to her current predicament.

"How do you know we're on an island, Malfoy?" she asked, trying to calm herself down, but failing miserably.

He shrugged his shoulders. "What else could it be?" he said.

Hermione let out an irritated sigh. "Geez, you fool! How can you say we're stranded on an island when you don't even know for sure that this is an island!?!"

"Granger, relax," he said, his voice oddly calm.

"Relax!" she repeated incredulously. "You expect me to relax! And in a situation like this? If you weren't the only one here with me I could hex you!"

"Hex the person who saved your filthy mudblood arse?" he said with a raised eyebrow. "Sure, why not. Never do a good deed I tell ya..."

Hermione rolled her eyes. She felt bad for saying that. It's true that he actually stayed around to rescue her, but he wasn't that angel in the water that had really saved her from drowning. Still, she probably owed him an apology. But no, she wouldn't. Not after he called her a mudblood, again.

"Malfoy, don't make me..." Hermione said through gritted teeth. "Urgh!" she cried out in aggravation, being unable to continue her words. "You make me so mad!"

"Yes, I know... Mad with lus-," he began.

Hermione walked up to him and narrowed her eyes at him, her wand outstretched. "Listen, Malfoy," she hissed. "Stop playing games with me. Is this an island or not?" she said backing him up against a nearby tree. "And where is everyone else?"

He calmly lowered her wand so it no longer aimed at his throat, and held her eyes with his. "I honestly don't know, Granger. If you're so smart, why don't you figure it out?"

"Now is not to time to get on my nerves, Malfoy," she said, raising her wand back to his throat. They stared hard into each other's eyes.

"I'm not playing any games," he said coolly. "I'm simply telling you that we're stranded."

She glared at him before whipping her wand in one fluid motion in the air and yelled out a charm. The whole act nearly frightened Malfoy until he calmed down, and started out into the night sky. It was nighttime by then, the sky a dark mauve, nearly black. The red sparks flew out of her wand, but only after going up 20 feet into the air did they simply fade out into nothingness.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. "That wasn't supposed to happen," she whispered.

Draco Malfoy opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione aimed her wand back at his throat. "Don't utter a word, Malfoy," she hissed, thinking he would give a rude comment or start another argument. "If you do, I'll make sure it'll be your last."

Malfoy stared at her seriously, faking fear into his eyes, trying to hide the smirk twitching on his lips. In one second, before Hermione even knew what was going on, he had her spun around so that she was no longer pushing him up against the tree. In seconds, he made her the one to be leaning against the tree with him pinning her back, holding the arm that held her wand tightly in his hands. "We're not thirteen anymore," he said with a smirk, easily taking her wand out of her captive hand. "And I'll say whatever I want."

Hermione stared into his gray eyes with the deadliest glare she could muster. He held her eyes and then took a few steps back, releasing her hand from his harsh grip and handing her back her wand. "I never meant to say anything rude," he told her. "You need to learn to stay calm instead of being like that hotheaded carrot-top Weasley kid you hang around with."

Hermione opened her mouth and then shut it, rubbing her aching wrist. The two of them shared a quick glance, hate-filled from Hermione's side and indifference from his, before he simply sighed and ran a hand through his wet hair. "I assure you we are on an island, Granger," he told her with a serious voice. "Snape was telling me that we would encounter an island on our journey and he told me to stay clear of it. Also, because of what happened to your spell, it means that I'm right and we are stranded."

"Oh yeah?" Hermione challenged, putting her hands on her hips. "Prove it, Malfoy. Enlighten me."

Draco smirked. "Fine. That's exactly what I'll do," he said, walking towards the middle of the beach. Hermione followed him there and watched as he brought out his wand, pointing it up in the sky. He closed his eyes, and then raised his head so that his chin was pointing in the air. The moon was up in the sky now, and it illuminated his perfect features that Hermione could not help but notice. His lips were parted and then he spoke in a whisper, which caused a single smoke of light to appear out of his wand and head towards the sky.

She watched, transfixed, as the smoky strand of light flew 90 feet in the air, and then stopped as though it hit a solid barrier. As soon as it did, the entire sky suddenly lit up a ghostly light in the shape of a dome in the sky. She watched spellbound as the glowing dome surrounded the entire field, covering what looked to be the entire island. Draco snapped his eyes open, and watched knowingly at the dome and then put his wand away, the action causing the dome to flicker and then go away, replaced by the normal moonlit sky.

He turned to her, a smirk on his lips that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Now do you understand?"

Hermione gulped a lump of fear, not knowing what she was so scared about. He noticed her expression and walked up to her, grasping her shoulders with his hands. Hermione was uncomfortable with the gesture, but his eyes were holding hers so deeply she didn't move. "I know we are on an island, Granger," he said firmly. "We can't get off. We're trapped."

Hermione stared blankly at him. "What do you mean we're trapped?"

"Do you know what spell I used?" Hermione shook her head. No, she didn't know. "It's one my dad taught me long ago to check for magical barriers. Do you see the dome?"

Hermione didn't say a thing, simply stared at him, her brown eyes completely blank with shock. "Tell me you saw it, Granger," he snapped at her, shaking her shoulders roughly to get to her speak. "Surely you understand what I'm showing you. You can't possibly be so daft," his voice was dripping with sarcasm, thinking she didn't understand what the dome meant. "Being the smart Gryffindor you are, I thought you'd figure it out hours ago."

Hermione ignored the demeaning comment and was going to open her mouth to speak, but he interrupted her, continuing what he was telling her. "It means there is a magical barrier over this island," his voice becoming serious. "We can't Apparate or anything. We're trapped. Someone powerful cast this spell, and no one can enter or leave magically. I know this is an island, because its the only one Snape said we would come across. And since it's too dark out, we'll have to wait in the morning to find out for sure. For now, we are trapped in this barrier, Granger. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded her head and sighed, her eyes hadn't once left his. She felt the ground collapsing under her-she was so scared, so confused.

"Are you positive?" she asked once more, even though she knew that the glowing dome had answered all her questions and confirmed Draco's theory.

Draco let go of her shoulders and then took a step back. "I lie a lot, Granger. You know I do. But if there's a truth I said in my life, this is one of them. I'm not playing a trick on you. We're stuck here until some miracle happens and we're saved. I don't know where the others are, but I'm sure there trapped somewhere here too or if they aren't..." He looked out into the direction of the water. His meaning was understood.

"So you mean… We are stuck?" She said, finally believing his words. Draco nodded his head. Hermione's heart sank and her brain was going on overload. Her knees were feeling weak and she felt colder than she'd been in the freezing water. "So I'm stranded on this godforsaken island with you?"

He didn't answer her. He had been trying to make her understand for the past half hour. He was stranded on this island with her and she was stranded on this island with him. Whether she wanted to accept it or not, it was the truth. She just hoped her savior would come and rescue her. Right... like that would ever happen.

Thus, that was how Hermione Granger found herself stranded on an island. And not just with anyone but with the devil's son, Draco Malfoy himself.

What was even worse? There was no way to get off, unless some miracle occurred.

"Merlin help me!" Hermione exclaimed in exasperation, sinking down on her knees.

Yes, Merlin help them indeed.

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Author's Note: So hello everyone. Welcome to another one of my HG/DM stories. I am aware that many of you might think that the events that must occur in the challenge story might not so easily happen due to the plot, but I love challenges and I made it extra hard on me.

Anyway, do be a dear and review me...

All Hail,
Queen of Serpents
aka Queen Sabreen

Chapter 2: Of Leaders and Lagoons
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By Queen Sabreen
aka Queen of Serpents

Disclaimer: The story is loosely based on the theme of The Lord of the Flies by William Golding. Harry Potter doesn't belong to me, sadly.

Author's Note: Finally I am able to post the next chapter of this work of fanfiction. The challenge says the story must be updated at least every two months, so rest assured that in case I do fail to update sooner than I planned, I will have it within 2 months max.

In addition, I just realized I completed one part of the challenge in the 1st chapter that says: a spell gone bad. Woot!

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Chapter Two: Of Leaders and Lagoons

The emptiness enveloped her. She let out a shaky breath she had been holding, and her knees gave way as she sunk to the ground.

She finally accepted the fact they were stranded on an island and withdrew herself into her thoughts. Draco Malfoy simply stood by her side, leaning against a tree and staring into the darkness.

It was cold, yet damp and humid, and Hermione noticed that her clothes were still wet from swimming--and nearly dying--in the ocean. A moment later, Draco Malfoy whispered, "Nox," and, just as the light flickered off, a swarm of bugs of all sorts flew in to attack their flesh. Mosquitoes and other such parasitic insects flocked to feast in their blood. A scream emitted from Hermione's mouth, and she stood up to slap them away.

"Malfoy! Do something!" she yelled at him, swatting away a particular mosquito that landed on her nose.

Draco was about to say "I know!" but just when he parted his lips to speak, a flying insect went straight into his mouth. Coughing and choking, he managed to spit the blasted thing out. Hermione quickly, and intelligently, took out her own wand and produced light that kept the bugs away at a safe distance.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked, tentatively rubbing Draco's back as he spat out the taste of the insect.

"Just swell, Granger. Absolutely dandy!" He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I'm just being polite, Malfoy," Hermione defended. "Besides, if you hadn't turned off the light, then none of this would have happened."

Draco, too fed up to reply, simply lit his own wand and began to walk towards the forest.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked in a slightly panicked tone.

"Going to collect some twigs. We should start a fire and get to sleep."

"Oh," she said, feeling slightly mortified at the prospect. "Sleep."

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Draco Malfoy woke when the first rays of the sun landed harshly upon his sleeping face. A look of innocence had been there while he slept with his guard down, unconsciousness making his pointed face no longer scowling or smirking as usual. But as soon as the sun with its fiery heat nearly blinded his eyes, his face screwed up into a scowl, and he let out a groan of frustration. Putting a hand over his head to cover his face--particularly his sleepy eyes from the light--he turned in his side, his arm reaching over a warm and soft body--

He pulled her closer to him, his body still wet: even the heat from the sun and the ongoing fire had not fully dried his clothes. He tried to sleep again but it was no use. Once Draco Malfoy was awakened, it was impossible for him to sleep once more.

He opened one eye and then another, wondering why the mattress was so hard, and why it felt like it was slipping. He always preferred hard mattresses so that it would relieve the backache he had from flying on a broom and playing Quidditch, but this was different. He moved his legs, surprised to still be wearing his pants even though there was a girl sleeping next to him. He was even more surprised when he felt sand at his feet.

Suddenly, the memories all came crashing back to him in a whirlwind. Memories of laughter, and then screams of alarm. The booming voice of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, amplified by the Sonorous Charm, echoed in his eyes.

Stay calm--

But no one heeded her struggled cry to maintain order.

The entire ship went into a frenzied panic.

And then he remembered the screams and the ocean's tumultuous waves. A girl's plea for help, brown hair sinking beneath the water.

And then he saved her, brought her to the island after a half hour of simply running through the current, hoping that the girl was not dead--

Stranded and accepting defeat, they decided to build a fire. Their cloaks were used as temporary blankets, and they fell asleep with a full 3 feet distance. But Draco assumed that during the cold night, they sought out the warmth of the other's bodies, which explained why she was curled up at his side.

Her hand clutched the front of his shirt subconsciously, and Draco slowly uncurled her fist and moved away, despite Hermione Granger's moan of protest. He chuckled lightly to himself and then went out on the lookout for a private place to relieve himself.

On his journey, he made sure he was not too far away from his companion and hoped that she would understand he was nearby, as his shoes and socks remained by the dying fire. He was soon delighted to come by a lagoon of some sort, the newly risen sun making the water sparkle like diamonds. He began to unbutton his shirt and placed it carefully upon a nearby rock. The sun beat down upon his exposed chest, and he welcomed the warmth with a pleased grin. Unbuckling his belt, he allowed his pants to fall and then made sure they were stacked neatly by his shirt. He debated on whether he should take off his boxers too, but, in the end, the water beckoned him, and he couldn't resist. He did himself away with the boxers as well before lowering himself in the lagoon's inviting coolness.

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"Malfoy!" Hermione began to call out after she woke. The fire was reduced to ashes by the time she woke up, and was surprised to see that her companion was missing. At first, she thought he abandoned her, and was fuming to herself, thinking horrendous thoughts. She even went as far as thinking that it was all his fault that she was stranded, and that it was some sort of ploy he started to get back at her. She even thought that he was a Death Eater and gathered all the Gryffindors, mainly Harry, to please his Lord.

But just then, she saw his shoes and socks and her anger cooled down. Either leaving the shoes was a trick to show that he was there, or that he really was nearby. She walked down an aimless path, careful not to stray to far lest she lost sight of the camp they made and lose Draco completely. Suddenly she heard a splash in the distance and furrowed her brows, following the sound of running water.

"Where are you?" she called out.

Pushing an overgrown leaf aside, her eyes widened as she saw Draco casually leaning against the rock with the lower half of his body submerged under water. His hair was dark blond, nearly brown because of the wetness, and his upper body was glistening with water. His eyes were closed, and he looked like a Sea God, completely at ease with the water. So much like her saviour...

Suddenly, her eyes landed upon the discarded clothes and she noticed that along with his pants, his boxers were not on either. She let out a squeak at the prospect of having him not too far away, completely nude, but this sound she made roused the boy in the water, and gray eyes began searching to find the cause of the interruption.

A playful smirk landed on his lips as he noticed Hermione standing there, and swam closer to her.

"Ah, Granger, what brings you here?" his derisive voice said. "Come to spy on me? Hoping to catch a glimpse of my delicious naked body?"

Hermione's eyes widened with indignation while color rose to her cheeks. "Of course not. I was just wondering where you went." She scolded herself for not sounding angrier than she was.

"Well, then, now that you're here, care to join me?"

"No, that's all right," Hermione replied, stepping back, though inside she really did want to join him. Not in the playful manner that he suggested, but because her hair was an awful mess with sea salt and sand, and she wanted to wash it out.

"C'mon, Granger. I suggest you do. The hair-"

"I know, Malfoy. No need to remind me," she interrupted.

"I didn't mean it to poke fun, Granger," he said seriously. He looked around the lagoon for a moment then froze as an idea came to him. An odd, uncharacteristic idea, but a good idea nonetheless. "Say, how about we have a truce? Since we'll be in this island for God knows how long, we shouldn't be trying to kill each other off," he explained when he saw her dumbfounded expression.

Hermione stared at him, flabbergasted. She searched his face to see if he was kidding with her. Surely it was a joke! When she realized he was being utterly serious, she sighed in defeat.

"I agree, Malfoy," Hermione said hesitantly. She was awed by his wise words. She never really thought of that, either, but his logic was reasonable. She stuck out her hand for him to shake, which he returned. His hand was wet, but strong and full of sincerity.

"Since that's over with, Granger, why don't you take off those clothes of yours and wash out your hair? I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to."

Hermione didn't quite believe him, but hesitantly, she sat down on a nearby rock of pinkish orange granite, and began to take off her shoes and then her socks, allowing her bare feet to dangle in the cool water. She figured if he was being nice enough to have a truce with her, she might as well try to trust him.

"That's it? Why don't you come down all the way?" Draco asked. He wasn't quite sure why he actually wanted her to. Of course, he was a boy and he wouldn't want to pass up the opportunity to see a girl drenched in water. But she was Granger, so why would he want to? And that truce? What was he doing? Was he going soft?

No, he reasoned. The truce was simply something to get her to trust him. They were alone on the island together. He might as well do the logical and polite thing and try not to have her bite his head off. Her anger was something he didn't want to come across, especially if there were no rules on the island that would make her stop herself from crushing him.

Plus his hormones were more important than his Pureblood pride, he reasoned as he watched her skin glow in the sun and her feet splash in the water. He had to admit, despite her hideous hair, she was quite attractive. So if a truce was what it needed to get her wet, so be it.

"I'm fine where I am, Malfoy, but can you please hurry up so I can get a chance to wash up alone," she said, emphasizing the final word.

Draco swam up to her and gave her a uncharacteristic pout. Hermione giggled. "Pouting won't work, Malfoy," she said, surprising herself at being so at ease with him around. He hadn't called her a mudblood since the night before, and she was beginning to admit that she liked this side of Malfoy. "--and nor will sulking," she added when she caught his eyes lowering sadly, swimming slowly backwards. "It's not Malfoy-like."

"Oh?" His face lighting with mischief. "So how's this for Malfoy-like?"

Without any time at all to process his words, Draco wrapped his hand around her ankle and pulled her into the water.

The splash was enormous, as was Hermione's rage. However, she wasn't angry, merely outraged that he would dare to do something like that. Spitting out the water that had gone into her mouth, she cried out in indignation, "Malfoy!" She looked at her soaking clothes and her heavy, water-soaked hair and glared at him. She swam back to where the water was shallow and was too angered and concerned with the fact she'd have to now go on another day with wet clothes that she didn't notice the lustful look Draco had on his face.

Suddenly, an idea sprang into her mind, and she felt the need to do something she never would have done. She swam quickly back to where Draco was, and he was too preoccupied at hoping she hadn't caught him licking his lips and staring at her abundant chest that had become visible through her wet shirt, to stop Hermione from dunking his head in the water.

Surprised and shocked, he swam back up, and instead of doing the same thing she had done to him, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her closer to him, a look upon his face that Hermione had never seen before.

His eyes were beautiful when they were this shade of color. They were silver with a dark glaze of gray over it. His head was coming nearer, and she was reminded of their close proximity and the fact that he was naked before her. His lips were ever near and Hermione was still drawn into his eyes, and found herself involuntarily wishing for his lips to descend upon her own. Suddenly, before she shut her eyes, she felt Draco tap tip of her nose lightly and then chuckle.

"You look surprisingly cute with that red bump on your nose," he said, laughing.

Hermione was shocked at that point for a lot of things, but no emotion was greater than embarrassment at being told there was a bump on her nose and the fact she had almost wished that he would kiss her. She was also surprised at being called "cute" by him.

"A red bump?" she said, touching her nose with her fingertip, and suddenly, she had an urge to scratch it relentlessly.

"Mosquito bite, perhaps," he informed her.

Hermione's cheeks reddened, and she quickly rummaged her wet pockets for her wand, taking it out and casting a spell on it to vanish the bite and remove the itch. She glared at him and then swam to shore.

"Now what am I going to do with these wet clothes to wear?" she cried out in distress when she was standing safely on the sandy ground next to the lagoon. She turned her head and for the first time noticed the miniature waterfall at the edge of the body of water. She was quite absorbed by the pretty sight but then Draco began to ascend from the water, his skin gleaming from the sun and the water.

She turned away immediately when she remembered he was nude.

"You can turn around now," he told her, and she obeyed him, noticing that he only put on his pants. She openly stared at his fine abdominal muscles and the way the muscles in his arms flexed when he took hold of his belt, and scratched his head, debating on whether to wear it or not.

Hermione let out a slight shiver when a cool breeze passed by.

"Hey, why don't you get rid of that wet shirt you're wearing and take mine for now. You'll have to keep the skirt on, because there are no replacements for that even though I wouldn't mind if you went without it..."

"Your shirt?" Hermione said ignoring the latter comment he made about her skirt.

"Yeah. That way you won't get a cold."

Hermione nodded her head, once again amazed by his logic. She ran to grab his shirt, and then disappeared behind a tree.

"Hey, where are you going?" Draco asked.

"Did you actually think for a moment that I'd take off my shirt in front of you?" Hermione replied, and came back into the clearing wearing Draco's shirt.

He smirked at her. "I suppose I hadn't thought of that. But anyway, a man's shirt suits you, Granger. Ever wear those sexy tuxes those girls wear on shows?"

Hermione rolled her eyes but just as she did, her eyes fell upon a shell embedded in the weeds of the lagoon. Her eyes widened with fascination as she walked over and picked it out of the tangled weeds.

"What's that? A shell?" Draco asked looking at the creamy pink shell. He took it from her and weighed it in his hands.

"Yes, it is a shell. It reminds me of a book I read."

Draco tried not to roll his eyes this time. Did she always have to think about books?

"Oh, really?" He said, pretending to be interested.

"Yeah. It's called the Lord of the Flies by William Golding, I believe, and there was a shell just like this in there too. The fat little boy called it a conch."

"A conch?"

"Yeah... which reminds me, it's sort of similar to how we are right now. The basic plot is about a bunch of boys deserted on an island--"

"Much like us!" Draco said, beaming at the resemblance. "Well, what happens in it?"

"Well, the boys basically turn into savages and whatnot and were practically killing each other, but there's much more to it than that. It's more about the idea of humans having to undergo a period where upon no rules are set, no society to fall into, and--"

"Granger, I think I get the idea," Draco said, not wanting to hear the more analytical and complicated version. "Just tell me if they get saved."

"They do," Hermione said making Draco smile with hope. "But you see, the ending is much more vague and ambiguous than that. The Cruiser that comes to rescue them, does come, but it can quite be possible that the Cruiser might sink as well being a warship and all in the middle of a war."

"Thanks a lot for that bit of information Granger," Draco said with a sullen looking face.

"I'm sorry... I think I got a bit carried away."

"Oh yes, just a bit," Draco said sarcastically.

"Anyway, why don't you blow it?"

"Now why would I want to do that?" Draco asked, giving her a funny look.

"Because in the book, there was a fat-looking kid that told the fair-haired boy to blow it, and he did."

Draco shrugged his shoulders. "Alright," he agreed. "But how?"

"Well the fat kid told him that you have to kind of spit but blow from down here," she explained patting her lower abdomen.

"Okay," he said, but when Draco blew it, it didn't work.

"From there," Hermione repeated only this time patted Draco's lower abdomen; his hard six pack was wet and gleamed in the sun. She snatched her hand away and willed her cheeks to stop from going red when he raised his eyebrow.

Lucky for her, he blew on it without a word more and this time it worked, the sound of the shell booming around the island, shaking the ground and arousing the birds and creatures around them.

"Why am I doing this again?" Draco asked.

"To call the others. Hopefully they'll hear it and come to us. That way we could have everyone together and when rescue arrives, we'll all be together. Maybe we could think of someway to get out of this island ourselves, too."

"I could've just used the Sonorous Charm instead of this Muggle way," he informed her.

"Oh, but this is so much more fun!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Maybe it was just an excuse to touch my stomach," Draco mused aloud. Before he could hear her protest, he blew the shell again, his face getting red with lack of air.

Hermione giggled at Draco's crimson face, forgetting his comment, but then stopped as the two of them caught sight of a shadow of life approaching them.

Apparently the doing things the Muggle way worked, Draco thought as he waited.

Finally the first person appeared clearly and Hermione beamed when she saw him. When the red-haired boy saw Hermione, his freckled face lit up and he ran into her, enveloping her in a hug.

"Hermione! I'm so glad you're alive!"

"I am too, Ron," Hermione exclaimed, happy to see him alive and looking well.

"Isn't Harry with you?" Hermione asked in a slightly worried tone.

"No, I hadn't seen him," Ron said sadly. He finally noticed the shirt Hermione was wearing and furrowed his brows. "I always knew you wore large shirts, Hermione. But this is just ridiculous."

Hermione blushed, wondering how to explain but then another 6th year came, which spared her from answering. This one happened to be a Slytherin, but Draco was not too well aquatinted with him. Survivor after survivor appeared, from all the houses Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. All were in their 6th Year and all were sent on this crazy trip that went so horribly wrong.

Finally a band of students came, the crew all wearing their black cloaks with their green and sliver Slytherin insignia. When they were close enough, Draco smirked at seeing Blaise Zabini, Millicent Bulstrode, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and a few others whose names Hermione didn't know well.

"Where's Pansy?" Draco asked after Blaise and he shared a manly hug.

"We don't know. Haven't seen her," answered Millicent, who patted Draco's cheek after playfully smacking his shoulder. Crabbe and Goyle both grunted happily at seeing their leader, and Draco fell into face among his crew. Still, Blaise could tell he was worried about Pansy.

Not too late after, two heads with flaming red hair, tall and lanky, and another boy with messy black hair arrived. It was Fred and George Weasley, and Hermione was almost sure Ron groaned at seeing them. The two boys were forced to go back to school, not being able to convince Mrs. Weasley, and even had to go back a year to finish their incompleted 6th year.

Harry Potter was the boy with the black hair, and Hermione ran into his arms. During the time since Ron appeared, Hermione had a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach. An awful thought that maybe he hadn't made it. That maybe something bad had happened to him. Thus, as she buried her face in Harry's chest, she had tears of joy on her cheeks that she dried on his shirt.

"Oh, Harry!" she cried out. "You're here."

"Of course I'm here. You can't get rid of me so soon," he said with a playful grin.

Ron approached them and sentimental moments soon followed as everyone reunited with each other. Draco blew on the conch one more time. An entire hour passed, and when no more people came, it became apparent that either some had not made it or they were probably too far away or even lost.

"Order!" Hermione yelled, standing upon the pink granite where she had sat on once before when taking off her shoes.

No one listened to her, and the loud laughter and merriment had not gone down at all. Finally Draco stepped in, raising the conch to his lips and blowing into it to gather everyone's attention.

"Thank you," Hermione told Draco when everyone was quiet and looked at her, giving their undivided attention. She turned back to the small crowd of 6th years and spoke. "Well now that everyone is here, I suppose you're all wondering what we'll have to do right?"

They nodded their head and whispered began but when Draco raised the conch once more, they all fell quiet.

"Therefore, I think we'll have to discuss what should happen and how we may be rescued from this island we're stranded on."

"Island?" a Slytherin yelled. "What do you mean that we're stranded?!"

"Granger is right," Draco butt in, silencing the Slytherins and everyone else's murmurs. "We are stranded on this island."

"Prove it, Malfoy. How do you know we're on an island." This was Ron this time who challenged Draco.

"He's right, Ron," Hermione said before Draco got mad, and Ron got carried away. "This is an island and there is even some sort of magical barrier over it that isn't allowing our signals to work."

Whispers erupted within the group of survivors.

"We tried as much as we could to send signals to get us rescued," Hermione said, this time her voice rising to be heard over the murmurs. "But apparently something has happened."

"What has happened?" A Hufflepuff asked.

"We don't know yet," Draco answered. "But Snape warned me beforehand that we should avoid this island. Now we are here. And--" Draco yelled to stop the loud talking that started after his statement. "--that means we'll have to wait until someone comes to our aid. Since Snape told me about the island, when the words gets through that the ship sunk, they'll probably know we're here and save us."

"What do we do until then?" Harry asked.

"Well we should have some order since we're here. To make sure that no one strays away and we don't get out of hand," Hermione answered.

"How about a leader then?" Hannah Abbott suggested.

"I pick Harry!" Parvati yelled out.

"Yes, Harry!"


Shouts of his name echoed through the members of each house except Slytherin.

"Why Harry?" Blaise asked hotly. "Just because he's got the scar?"

"That's not fair," Millicent said. "Just because Harry always saves the day doesn't mean he'll be a good leader."

"Let's have a vote then," Hermione shouted over the screaming.

"Okay!" Fred and George agreed.

"Who should be the candidates?" Anthony Goldstein asked.

"Harry!" Lavender called out, giggling with Parvati.

"How about ikle Ronnikins?" Fred and George offered at once causing Ron to flush in anger and embarrassment.

"I pick Anthony!" Hannah called out, blushing when Anthony gave her a hug, and kissed his girlfriend's cheek.

"Hermione!" Neville said and smiled when Hermione beamed at him.

"Crabbe!" Goyle shouted.

"Draco, of course," Millicent added, glaring at Goyle.

"Okay," Hermione said, still standing on top of the rock. Let the candidates come up front please!"

Casually Harry, a red Ron, Anthony, grunting Crabbe and a smirking Draco came forward.

"Okay first Crabbe. Who votes for him?"

The poor obece boy gained no votes because Millicent threatened Goyle, the only person who wanted to vote for Crabbe and who actually chose him in the first place, and was unable to cast his vote. Hermione shook her head, saddened but also slightly amused, and then continued, "Okay, who votes for Ronald Weasley?"

Fred, George, and a single Hufflepuff raised their hand to pick him. Ron, hung his head, his ears still going pink.

"So that's three for Ron."

"Next, Anthony Goldstein!"

A chunk of the Ravenclaws and, of course, Hannah raised their hand for their vote to be counted.

"So that's a five for Tony," Hermione counted. "Next, Harry Potter!"

The majority of Gryffindors picked him and so did a few Ravenclaws, but no Hufflepuffs, perhaps still sore at him because of Cedric's death. Hermione found this unfair but voiced no thought on the matter.

"Nine for Harry. Draco Malfoy?"

Every single hand from Slytherin was raised as did a few Ravenclaws. Shouts and cheers were made in favor of the blonde Slytherin who held every air of authority one could possibly have as their personality. Hermione reflected on how, for once, Draco Malfoy did make a capable leader, and quite possibly a good one.

"Another nine. Now how about me?" Hermione asked, giving them a startling smile.

The remaining Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and 2 Slytherins raised their hand in favor of the Gryffindor. They knew of her vast knowlegde and leadership qualities and wisely chose her. However, the count was not enough for Hermione to take on the role of the chief. Therefore, hiding her disappointment she said, "Only eight for me. So that leaves Harry and Draco at a tie."

"How about another vote. This time only for them. The most wins," Blaise suggestly wisely.

"All right. How many choose Harry?" At a show of hands, Hermione counted silently and then informed them "Seventeen, which leaves it at another tie."

"You didn't vote!" Neville pointed out over the shouting and murmurs.

"Me? Well... I..."

"Well that's easy then. The leader is Harry!" Ron exclaimed happily. The Gryffindors cheered excitedly.

"No wait! Let her say who she picks!" Blaise roared over their voices.

They all fell silent, their gazes intent upon Hermione. The Gryffindors, namely Ron, looked at Hermione expectantly, and the Slytherins gave her a fake sweet look that looked far too sinister to be sincere. Harry simply sat down on the ground, not looking at anyone but Draco's stormy gaze was locked with hers. Hermione knew for a fact that Harry was great at being a leader. In DADA, he was quite well at it but his influence wouldn't spread to the Slytherins.

"Well..." Hermione began. Her hands were shaking and she was at a loss. In the end, after a full minute of leaving the rest of the sixth years in suspence, Hermione finally spoke. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I choose Draco instead," she said quietly.

Everyone looked at her as though she grown an extra head.

As much as Harry was great, Hermione had reasoned to herself before answering, Draco was fair and wise. He spoke logically and in the short time they were alone, she found he was quite reasonable as well. He would make the better leader and would have control over the Slytherins, unlike Harry.

The Slytherins were looking at her incredulously. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were at a loss and the Gryffindors looked as though they might roast Hermione alive.

"But Harry could always be the co-in charge," she added wisely and hurridly for the look on the Gryffindor's faces were frightening her. The Gryffindors would have trouble accepting Draco but if Harry works as a co-chief then things would go smoothly... or least they'd think twice before killing her.

There was silence until this idea was digested, and soon afterwards the Slytherins cheered. A group even picked her up on his shoulders and they all shouted at how happy they were.

She might be Muggleborn, but it wasn't everyday that Draco Malfoy beat Harry Potter at something, and it was all thanks to her. For a moment, Hermione wondered whether it really was a good idea. Well, she'd just have to see to find out.

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Author's Note: Did you like? I sure hope so! My beta did another great job! I would've had this out earlier but she was having difficulties. At any rate, I'd like to add one more thing, this story shall become more like the LOTF. This may not appeal to some of you, but there shall be romance because the point of the challenge is to think of a creative, original way to put the two together. I assure you it won't be as angst ridden as LOTF nor as depressing, but it won't be all lovey dovey either. There will be fun, but of course the fun must end sometime or another. But let this not disappoint you. The challenge includes many startling and humorous events so stay tuned for the next installment of... Stranded. :oP


All Hail,
Queen of Serpents
aka Queen Sabreen



Chapter 3: Of Hunger and Honey-Brown Eyes
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

“’We’ve got to have rules and obey them. After all, we’re not savages. We’re English, and the English are best at everything. So we’ve got to do the right things.’” -- Jack

Golding, William. Lord of the Flies, pg. 42.

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By Queen of Serpents
aka Queen Sabreen

Disclaimer: The story is loosely based on the theme of Lord of the Flies by William Golding. I am fortunate to be able to use the characters of Harry Potter but alas I do not own them.

Author's Note: Thanks a lot for all the support and I know it took me a longer time than 2 months to update this but my reason is this: my grandpa’s health had been deteriorating for the past few weeks and then he passed away in the end of February. I didn’t have the mood to write until recently so I hope you all understand.

Also I just wanted to inform you all that I finished another part of the challenge where Harry loses to Malfoy. Thanks for all the support people. ::gives out cookies to faithful readers::


Here’s a long, fairly important author’s note:

1) LOTF plot: A lot of people want it to be less like LOTF because they don’t want the story to have a Dark ending. I'm quite into DarkFics and all, but whether or not I make this story into one depends. The story is inspired a lot by LOTF, and it carries the same basic plot in the beginning, but that doesn’t mean I’ll have everything single detail following it. I have my own mind and imagination to shape it the way I want it to.

2) The arrival of the others: A lot of you are disappointed that everyone else showed up. I must admit that I didn’t like that part either but hey, you gotta do what you gotta do. The challenge requirement has a lot to do with the other characters and I need to bring them in and get the plot moving along. Sorry if you thought the scene was a little fast and unexpected, or that you thought it took away D/Hr bonding time : P

3) D/Hr snogging time! As much as I would like to have Hermione and Draco all alone on the island, eventually snogging and/or shagging, it’s not going to happen just like that. There’s a greater plot besides a romance. Sure I’ll have them get together some time, but they won’t be doing the horizontal hustle any time soon (lmao, the “horizontal hustle” is a term my Freshman year English teacher used quite frequently). As for a kiss… haha. I never said those can’t happen.

4) In Character, Out of Character: Of the characters so far, Draco is the most OoC. I realized this only recently and I thank those of you who pointed it out. I’ll try to bring his cunning, sly, attitude back. Having an evil Draco is fun! However at the moment my main focus of keeping a character IC is Hermione, who happens to be the most abused character in fanfiction. So in order to work out the relationship, it’s either both of them stay OOC or one of them. Having a D/Hr fic and keeping characters as they are in canon is hard, but believe me I’m trying! I’m working real hard on it, which is why it takes me so long to update sometimes. I’ll try and have most of the characters IC but pretty soon, after the real plot is established, my efforts of keeping it IC might go downhill. I’ll try my best for it not to, though.

(Also in this chapter some—actually most—of the characters are a little OoC but that’s because they’re hungry :o) )

5) Haven’t read LOTF?: For those of you who haven’t read LOTF, I suggest you go out and read it or if you are lazy head over to a site that has summaries (coughspark-notescough) If you do decide to read it, I suggest you go out online or ask someone who read it to explain to you the true meaning behind the story. There’s a lot of hidden symbolism that is quite important. The story itself is not very interesting but the deeper allegorical meaning behind it is what the significance is. If you have any questions regarding it, email me.

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Chapter Three: Of Hunger and Honey-Brown Eyes

Laughter, shouts, and cries of hooray echoed through that area on the island. Even the Gryffindors, who were sullen because Harry was not the main leader, were cheering and making a big fuss.

Draco sat upon a broken log, his eyes cast straight towards where the Gryffindor was. Her face was lighted with a grin, her hair, which was quite wet, was now drying and tangled. He made it a point to do something about it. Wasn’t there a de-frizzing potion out there? Pansy used used to use it a lot.

He frowned, casting a quick look towards the lagoon, thinking about the ocean from where they came. The rest of the Slytherins were still celebrating that Draco had been made the leader. He, however, was too preoccupied to think of himself that way. One name, one face, one question was now on his mind: Where was Pansy Parkinson?

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Pansy Parkinson was never so lost as she was at that moment. Hunger swelled in her belly. Her hair, formerly sleek and straight, was now full of split ends. Dirt was smeared across her face. Her body ached from walking and swimming.

She heard a great noise, one that had pierced through her ears and into her brain. Her entire body trembled. She wasn't able to pinpoint were the sound was coming from. For a moment, it felt like a shell was making it, as though someone was blowing into it. But shells can't sound like this, she thought dismissively. She must be going insane. Shells making sounds, what nonsense! The only sounds they made were of the ocean...definately not this!

Suddenly there was another noise to her right--the sound of a broken twig. She turned her head quickly to spot the tail of a cat that disappeared into the forest’s thick vines and foliage.

She wiped the sweat off her brow; her heart was thumping. She had the crinkly feeling that eyes were on her. Shrugging off the feeling, she began to walk again.

Unbeknownst to her, two eyes were digging into her back the entire time.

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Hermione felt giddy when she was taken off the shoulders of a Slytherin boy whose name she did not know. He had picked her up in his sheer joy, a happiness due to the fact hers was the final, winning vote for Draco.

She turned her head slightly and her eyes caught an intense stare. It was as though the heat from his eyes was the heat from the blistering sun, dragging her onto the ground. It was Draco. His eyebrows, elegantly curved and arched, were furrowed, deep in thought. His gray eyes were distant and unclear. She wondered what could possibly be on his mind that took so much of his attention. Though she first felt that it was she who he was thinking and staring at, but she figured it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be her, for although his eyes were wavering around her, his mind was elsewhere.

So why did she have the feeling she was being watched?

She figured it was just her mind, her paranoia.

She looked away from the blond Slytherin, and then to all the other Slytherins whose happiness seemed to fade away. Some of her companions all clutched their stomachs with a weakened look on their faces. It was then that it dawned on her and it was then that the hunger she hadn’t felt for the whole day had hit her so hard, she rubbed her aching, contracting stomach and felt her knees start to grow weak. Hunger never felt as great as this.

“Hermione, are you okay?” Harry’s concerned voiced drifted into her ears. She was only able to hear him as though he was in the background. The buzzing in her ears from sheer weakness and the growling of her stomach had nearly drowned out his words. She just then realized that she hadn’t eaten at all for the past 4 days. Whatever she did eat 4 days ago, she puked because of seasickness.

“I won’t lie to you, Harry. I’m hungry. Is there anything to eat?” she asked him. She didn’t understand why she didn’t feel so sick and horrible while Draco woke her right after almost dying in the sea or why she felt so perfectly healthy this morning in the lagoon. She reasoned that it was her mind’s fault for actually being conscious of her hunger now and not then. The mind can do a lot of weird things. Or maybe the stress she had while finding out they were stranded had blocked out her hunger and the sleep she did last night – that wonderful, warm sleep – had temporarily blocked out the hunger then too. Whatever it was, she was hungry. And she wanted food. Now.

“Well, I found some berries, but I don’t think we should eat them. They might be poisonous,” he told her wisely.

“Berries? I’d like to see them. Maybe I can distinguish whether they're edible or not,” Hermione told him, feeling more energetic at the thought of having something –anything– to eat.

She followed Harry to a bush, noticing that almost every other classmate of hers already ate most of them to satisfy their hunger. Only Draco Malfoy had remained seated on the log, lost in thought without any regard to food. Crabbe and Goyle had stuffed their mouths and filled their stomachs, but the bushes were abundant and plenty was left for everyone else, despite so many people eating so many chunks of it. Even Ron was among them, in a heated berry-war. He made sure that Crabbe and Goyle wouldn’t take his good berries and stole theirs occasionally. Fred and George, not too hungry themselves, kept on stealing Ron’s berries to mess with his head and threw them in the lagoon. The Berry-War continued with Ron screaming in frustration and throwing the pits at his enemies.

Harry looked for a moment at Ron’s immaturity, stifled a laugh, and picked a fresh looking red berry. He handed it over to Hermione, who was at the moment rolling her eyes at her red-haired friend. She was too busy to comment, and inspected the berry with care. Her eyes widened, a page from a book she read about various berries entered her photographic mind, and she came to a conclusion.

Harry was right; the berries were not edible.

Yet, hunger had turned her fellow classmates into barbarians and they had all stuffed their mouths without a second thought. She looked around, saw the chaos, and shook her head. “Children,” she muttered. “Harry, would you mind telling them all to stop eating these berries? I’ll go over to Draco and see what we should do to stop those who already ate it from getting sick.”

“Hermione, I thought I was the leader.”

But Hemione had not listened to Harry’s complaint, and scurried off towards Draco, her painful hunger once again temporarily forgotten.

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Once again, Draco found himself lost in thought. Pansy was alive –he had a gut feeling about that –but he also had a gut feeling that she was in possible danger. Generally, his gut feelings were right, just like the time when he had that feeling that Harry Potter wasn’t going to befriend him and reject him. Yet he talked to him anyway. It was father’s wishes, and he couldn’t disobey him. Or just like the time when as they were sailing for this “school trip” and he knew, he had that sense, that the trip would go wrong. He was right both times.

However, he didn’t want him to be right about Pansy.

Sure she was whiny, sometimes irritating, egotistical, and snobby, but Draco always held a soft spot for the Slytherin girl. They grew up together, they played in the same sandbox until his father decided he needed to “grow up”, and they had their first kiss together. So naturally he would care for her.

However, unlike those horrendous rumors went, he did not love her, or like her sexually at all. They dated for a while just to see what it would be like, and after that… they ended it, seeing that it just didn’t work out. Friendship was better suited for the two. And since she was his friend, he was worried by her disappearance. Besides, they were Slytherins and Slytherins always look after their own.

Being worried usually made the normally attentive Draco Malfoy lost in thought. It was the reason why he didn’t notice his fellow classmates acting like animals in order to fill their bellies. Though his eyes were subconsciously following Hermione, he wasn’t looking at her. Well, he was… but only looking at her eyes. He didn’t notice it before, but the two normally completely opposite girls had the same honey brown eyes. Therefore, whilst staring at Hermione’s eyes, Draco thought about Pansy even more and the worry began to gnaw at him.

Damn, it was that Slytherin obligation and loyalty all over again. He needed to get Pansy out of his mind. For all he knew, she drowned and died. Best to not think about her and lose his sanity.


These soft words had uprooted him from his thoughts so harshly that he nearly fell back from the log. He looked up and caught himself staring directly into a vast sea of endless brown and honey eyes, eyes that were looking at him questioningly and analytically. He saw her bushy hair, untamed and hideous, and realized this was not Pansy, but Hermione.

“Granger? What is it?” he croaked, irritated at being caught not paying attention.

He had an inclination that she was standing there for a while. How long was it then, that she watching him like that?

“Ouch, no need to be a grouch, Malfoy. I’m here on a business errand,” the Gryffindor replied. “There’s isn’t much time to argue like children, so I’ll just tell you what’s wrong so we can find a solution,” she told him quickly before he would comment. He nodded his head, realizing this was serious.

“Well, due to the fact that all our classmates were hungry, they ate anything they were able to get their hands on that looked good,” she informed him. She looked to her left where she caught Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle eating in what looked to be a berry-eating contest. She shook her head in dismay; that wasn’t just a berry-eating contest, it was a race on who would wind up puking the most.


“And, if you must know Malfoy, those berries are poisonous.”

“Oh,” Draco replied, the color from his already pale skin draining. His gray eyes darted around the island and he shook his head. “What do you suppose we do?”

“Well, I remember reading about a potion that cures food-poisoning. You, being the Potion expert, should be aware of it. I told Harry to make them stop eating while we make the potion.”

“Ah, lovely idea, Granger. Only there’s one problem your brain hadn’t thought of,” he told her, rising from his seat and giving her a superior smirk. “Ingredients perhaps?”

Hermione’s lips formed a soft ‘O’ and she sat down on the log where Malfoy was sitting on before.

“And also, I don’t suppose your boyfriend was able to stop them from eating, now was he?” he said, pointing his thumb behind him to where Harry was fuming for not being heard by everyone else.

“He’s not my boyfriend and if you’re such a genius Malfoy, why don’t you figure it out?” she told him, slightly annoyed.

“Ah, my pet, not to worry. Draco Malfoy can handle anything.” He patted her on the head and grinned at her.

She raised an eyebrow. “Pet?”

“Yes, dear. My pet. Now scurry along and tell Potter to come meet me here.”

“If you think I’m going to be your pet dog and fetch Harry, then you are highly mistaken.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked into his eyes defiantly.

“I didn’t even mention the word dog, yet as appealing as it may sound, I like the word ‘bitch’ better.” He ignored her gasp of indignation and bent down so his lips were brushing against her ear. “You like the sound of that too, don’t you?”

She was about to slap him for that comment but when his breath prickled her ear, it sent of shiver of warmth pulsing through her body and she couldn't. She stood up instead, ignoring the tingling sensations her body made with the slight touch of his lips on her skin. She poked him on his chest harshly to make him move away from her personal space and glared up at him, cheeks red with heat. “You arrogant, insufferable prat! I honestly thought you would change!”

She sighed dramatically and crossly, and he chuckled while watching her stomp away, a swarm of insults coming forth from her lips. To his delight, her footsteps were towards Potter. He allowed a smirk to settle on his lips and blew her a kiss when she looked back at him. She blushed furiously and stuck out her tongue at him in a child-like manner before running off to talk to Harry Potter.

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Hermione was exhausted, and she was still hungry. Besides, making her classmates shut up and actually listen to the three of them was harder than she imagined. Harry and Draco were on surprisingly good terms-- Of course they did bicker once in a while but it wasn’t too hostile at all.

She didn’t notice it before, but the two of them were quite alike each other. The two boys were both natural leaders it seemed. They had ambition, and power as well as a fiery charismatic gravity about them that made everyone cling on to their every word or command. Draco more intimidating and controlling while Harry more friendly and unrestrictive--but their similar appeal was clearly there.

They looked like total opposites: Harry’s messy black hair and tanned skin, and Draco’s white blond hair and pale skin that seemed to radiate the moon’s glow. And yet, they were so much akin to one another. If Draco’s Pureblood-superiority complex didn’t get in the way, Hermione was sure the two boys would have been the best of friends.

After trying many ways to yell and shout, Hermione reminded Draco to use his wand and cast the Sonorous Charm. But for some odd reason, the Slytherin simply took the conch and blew on it. The conch’s alarming yet powerful sound echoed through the island once more and caught every single person’s attention. The berry-eating contest was put to a halt and all eyes were on Draco.

Their leader, Draco Malfoy, looked on at everyone from atop a tiny platform that only was able to hold three people up. Hermione, although Harry told her to stand next to him on the platform so that she could give him advice, decided to stand aside instead and allowed everyone else to see the mighty power the two boys possessed. They looked like absolute rulers there, and the inhabitants of the island all fell quickly under their spell.

“A bunch of animals,” Draco said quietly yet firmly, shaking his head. “Have you all once thought what those berries are? Did it even occur to you that they may be poisonous?” he hissed.

“Look at you!” he yelled over the murmurs that sprang after his former words. “Like savages!” His glaring silver eyes flickered over to the Berry-Eating contest and his two henchmen lowered their head in shame. Ron, however, was unaffected. “We’re supposed to think before we do things in a place like this. There is this thing called ‘common sense’, which I see that you all lack! I’m surprised that you’re even human, let alone witches and wizards. A disgrace.”

He continued his lecture, allowing his powerful voice to echo into their ears and their souls, making them aware of their shame and throwing them into a trance. Hermione looked up at him and furrowed her brows. He was simply supposed to inform them that the berries were poisonous, not lecture them!

And yet, it seemed like the perfectly right thing to do.

“We’re not savages!” he roared. “We’re not Muggles! We’re Wizards! And as Wizards, we must do the right things!”

“Here here!” Blaise cried out, clapping his hands. He was the few of them that actually didn’t eat the berries. The rest of Draco’s captivated audience began to cheer as well but stopped immediately when Draco smirked and continued with his speech.

“From now on, all activity such as eating, wandering, and bathing will be set upon rules that will be discussed once we find the ingredients that will be required to cure those of you who were foolish enough to eat the berries from those bushes. Potter will explain the details. Potter?”

Harry cleared his throat and began to give out instructions. Hermione looked up at Draco once more and was marveled by his oratory. He looked down at her and winked.

Blushing, she turned away and allowed her attention to fall on Harry. As she heard her friend speak, she mentally patted herself on her back. Picking Draco as the real leader was the right thing to do. Harry was wonderful, he truly was, but the Slytherins were yawning and not paying attention in the slightest by the time Harry opened his mouth.

Harry made the announcement of the reality of the berries and divided the 6th Year students into groups of who was going to gather and try to find what ingredient. Hopefully, they would find the main ones or transfigure ordinary objects into what was needed.

And so the afternoon passed by with Hermione’s hair pulled back into a bun that kept coming out while stirring a twig into a pot Neville Longbottom configured out of a log. It was actually supposed to be the spoon, but as the way things turned out, it became a cauldron instead. Draco chopped pieces of ingredients their classmates found and everyone actually, miraculously, worked in harmony. Hermione knew it was all due to desperation that the feuding Houses actually got along, but having them cooperate was just as well. She also had a feeling it was all due to Draco’s words. He must had hypnotized them.

The Weasley twins were given the responsibility to make a separate enclosed area so that people could ‘go’ and do their bodily functions without being too grossed out, but leaving the pranksters with such a task should have been thought twice about. The two did not hesitate to play pranks even in such an urgent situation.

The Potion was set to boil for around another 20 minutes. Already Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle made a trip to the makeshift bathroom 9, 7, and 12 times respectively and the rest were also bordering on those numbers.

Hermione shook her head, sighed and rubbed her growling stomach. She was lucky she didn’t eat those berries, but at the moment her hunger was so great, she rather would like to go to the bathroom and/or puke whatever she ate than have an empty stomach.

She wondered if there was anything else to eat. There should be of course, berries weren’t the only things there were on the island. It was a tropical one, so there was bound to be coconuts, bananas, and other such edible things to eat. She pondered this as she stirred the potion counterclockwise 3 times and then clockwise again, repeating the cycle.

She glanced to her right and saw all her classmates huddled together by the lagoon. Some of them, the girls mainly—who were smart enough not to eat the berries because girls were always logical in that manner—were sitting by the edges with their bare feet dangling in the warm water. Their eyes were all towards somewhere towards Hermione’s left and giggled every so often.

She followed their gazes and saw Draco reclining against a tree truck, his hands behind his head. He was still shirtless, for Hermione was still wearing his shirt, and the setting sun was glaring down at him. His torso was mouth-watering, toned and perfectly sculpted, the sun’s rays sparkling like golden faeries over his pale skin. Hermione had a hard time looking away. It was no wonder the girls were all staring at him and giggling.

Once the potion was ready, Hermione decided to leave the responsibility to the boys in charge to distribute it to those who ate the berries. She quickly sat up, was careful not to make eye contact with Draco –she just remembered that she was supposed to be mad at him for saying… that—and walked over to where the girls were by the lagoon. The place also happened to be the place where her previously wet school shirt was located.

She grabbed the shirt, not being noticed at all by the swooning girls, and left towards the dark bushes to change. She began unbuttoning his shirt and suddenly realized how much it smelled like him. It was a combination of sandalwood and autumn leaves, expensive cologne, something indescribably Draco… and it smelled of Hermione herself.

She took the shirt off hesitantly and put on her own, wondering why she was suddenly reluctant to part with the Slytherin boy’s shirt. She shook her head at her peculiarity and slipped on her own blouse.

She didn’t want the other girls to know whose shirt she had on before, and so quickly she poked the back of a random 6th Year and shoved the shirt into his hands. “Take it to Malfoy,” she told him, not even looking at the boy’s face. “And tell him to quickly put it on before all the girls drain their salivary glands by drooling about his chest,” she spat.

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Draco went back to thinking about her again. He just couldn’t seem to get her out of his mind. Even seeing the Wealsey puke his guts out had not interested him in the slightest. He did not have the faintest appeal of going about and poking fun like he normally would. He wasn’t even aware that a bunch of girls were hungrily staring at his exposed chest. Just the thought of his friend probably being in danger occupied his mind.

Suddenly, he was brought back into reality when a piece of cloth – a shirt maybe?—was thrown at his face. He sat upright, startled, and pulled the shirt away. A strong scent caught his nostrils, like cucumber and melon… and Hermione.

“Hermione told me to give this to you,” Anthony Goldstein said, raising his eyebrow and wondering how Hermione could have possibly gotten Malfoy’s shirt in the first place. “And you better wear it too before all those girl’s ‘drain their salivary glands by drooling,’ she said.” He looked back at the girls by the lagoon, and Draco’s gaze flickered over there as well.

“Well lookie there,” Draco said, “Is that Abott looking at me?” He smirked.

Anthony scanned the area looking for his girlfriend. Sure enough, she was looking at the blond. Jealousy pulsing through his veins, he stomped off towards her.

“Ahh… young love and bitter jealousy,” Draco said to himself, smirking.

He held the shirt in his hands and then remembered that the Gryffindor witch was wearing it. He wondered why she took it off and said those words.

Hmm… he looked around, the sun setting and the trees casting a shadow around the jungles. He saw a slight moving silhouette and stood up, ready to follow it. Suddenly the figure stopped and looked his way. It were those honey brown eyes again, and though he knew two girls who possessed those very similar eyes, he knew by now which girl owned which. And he knew which witch that one that was.

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“Hermione? What are you doing in the dark?” Hermione heard him ask her. She leaned back against the tree and closed her eyes, listening to the sounds nature made. She felt eerily calm at the current place they were standing and if she were to open her eyes and look at the blond in front of her, she would see a smile that he rarely ever wore.

“Aren’t you going to open your eyes and see what I got for you, Granger?” His voice carried a derisive yet appealing tone. She opened her eyes before she could stop herself.

A gasp escaped her parted lips. There in front of her was the most delicious looking chocolate cake she ever saw. Her hunger intensified a tenth-fold and she licked her lips. Her fingers itched to grab a bite, but she first looked up at the boy who held it and had possession over it.

As her gaze flickered upwards, she was greeted by a naked torso, as appealing as the chocolate before her. The unbuttoned shirt gave him a look that was beyond sexy.

A different sort of hunger began in the depths of her stomach.

“Want a piece?” His voice was husky. Was he flirting with her? She wasn't sure, but his words had left her knees trembling and her heart skipping a few beats. It was as though his silky soft words were putting her under a trance and she was swaying under his hypnotic spell.

She was left inarticulate, and was only able to bring forth a jumble of gibberish.

“I take that as a yes, Granger,” he replied smugly.

The trance ended by hearing his normal tone of voice. She snapped her eyes to look up at his face and scowled. It was Malfoy. She almost forgot it was him... his voice, when it sounded like that, felt so... good.

She walked towards him and took a piece of the cake without even asking. After all, she was hungry and he did ask her if she wanted which implied that he offered it. She snatched it before he was able to register the fact in his brain and she ate it before he was able to open his mouth to speak.

“I figured you must be hungry, so I transfigured a piece of chocolate I had into a cake.”

Hermione was speechless. As soon as she finished the cake, she opened her mouth and uttered a small, barely audible, “Thank you.”

"No problem, Granger. But, as you may well know, a Malfoy does nothing without an ulterior motive…”

She sighed. “What do you want then?” Her voiced was tired; she didn’t want to deal with the overly arrogant Malfoy at this time. She just wanted to eat!

He drew closer. This time, she was caught staring straight at his lean chest, the pectoral muscles so skillfully toned. He didn’t have a big, broad chest, but it was lean and sleek, just like a Seeker’s should be. She noticed how close they were to her. Her fingers were now not only itching to grab another slice of the chocolate cake, but run her nails across his skin…

Bad, bad Hermione!

She didn’t even notice how close his face was to hers until she felt the sharp coolness of his breath across her cheeks. Her honey eyes darted up towards his, a smoky gray. His long fingers made their way up to brush a bushy, frizzy strand of hair away from her face and skimmed it lightly along her cheeks and down to the bottom of her pouted lip, causing a fury of goose bumps to rise on her skin. Her breathing was irregular, her heart thumping, adrenaline taking its pleasant course through her veins. She closed her eyes, wanting to block out the senses he was raising within her.

“I think you know by now what I want, my pet.” His voice was still husky and sexy, but it held a trigger word that made Hermione’s eyes snap open.

She slapped his hands away and moved him away from her. “You sicken me sometimes, Malfoy.”

She grabbed another slice of the cake and put it between her teeth.

“Who said you can have my cake, Granger?” he called out.

“I’m your little pet aren’t I? Aren’t you going to feed me?”

She skipped away and then stopped to look at him before she turned out of sight. Her honey brown eyes searched his and their eyes made contact. She winked at him, put another bite of the cake in her mouth, and scurried away before he stopped her.

And it was from that moment on a different hunger arose in Draco and it was a hunger that left him panting to see more of those honey-brown eyes of hers. He still did not know then that the seeds of lust was being planted in his mind, and nor did Hermione know what her innocent brown eyes had caused in him. However, the two of them would soon see that where logic does not give the answer, human instinct always does.

And where the lack of logic was concerned, Draco Malfoy was a specialist but Hermione? …to her teaching her about her inner instinct would be a challenge. However, with the right time and situations, even the most logical of people can find their inner self and go wild.

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Author's Note:

Ahh! This chapter is rather crappy in my standards (even though it’s so long). Pardon the lack of enthusiasm while writing which may be the cause of the… ‘blah’ writing for lack of a better word. Plus, I’m not sure whether the characters are IC or OOC at the moment, but that was another thing I had trouble with due to my decrease of creativity at the moment. Oh well, maybe the next chapter will be better. And I added in a bit of mystery in the end which may account for the fact it's a little confusing.

Anyway thank you for all the reviews! I got more than I ever imagined and I’m glad you all enjoyed it so far. I’ll try to not take as long as this time to update. I really will! Also major props to my beta once again for getting this to me even through all the chaotic stuff that's been going around.

All Hail,
Queen of Serpents

Chapter 4: Of Limits and Levitation
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

'My father’s in the Navy. He said there aren’t any unknown islands left. He says that the Queen has a big room full of maps and all the islands of the world are drawn there. So the Queen’s got a picture of this island.’…‘And sooner or later, a ship will put in here. It might even be Daddy’s ship. So you see, sooner or later, we shall be rescued.’ (-Ralph, pg. 37)
Golding, William. Lord of the Flies. New York: The Berkley Publishing Group, 1954.

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By Queen of Serpents

Disclaimer: The story is loosely based on the theme of Lord of the Flies by William Golding. I am fortunate to be able to use the characters of Harry Potter but alas I do not own them.
Author's Note: Aww you all really lifted my spirits when saying the previous chapter was better than I thought it was.
“A contest or race” part of the challenge has been completed in the previous chapter!

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Chapter Four: Of Limits and Levitation

Night was beginning to fall once again. Darkness hung over them and as each ray of light began to fade away, so had the little hope of rescue they had. After a long time of denial, the 6th Year students, trapped on that deserted island, finally began to realize that they would have to stay another night in the darkness.

Harry Potter leapt up from his sitting position on the shore. The ocean’s waves were lapping at his feet and then retreated back again. He was staring up at the pink clouds, reminiscing about the times he would fly into them, soaring so high he felt as though he would be able to touch the utmost end of the sky. He remembered the feel of the wind slapping at his face and his stomach flipping at the sensations of flying so high above the ground.

It was then that he realized, after that quick flash of memory, that there was a way they could escape the confines of this island.

He must fly.
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His behavior had startled Hermione, and as she walked back to the clearing where most of her peers were laying around, she pondered the reason for his actions. She never encountered this flirty and amiable side of him. He was always obnoxious, arrogant, and quite frankly a pain in the ass to be around, but this entire day of spending so much time with just him and no else had forced Hermione to rethink her attitude towards him.

He was conceited - there was no doubt about that - but he wasn’t too bad to hang around with. He was quite intelligent, his voice had the capability to stir the core of his listeners, and he was quite in tune with his surroundings. His similarities with Harry were surprising, and Hermione noticed that just as she liked being friends with Harry, she liked being around Draco Malfoy.

However, the only thing that was different about her platonic friendship with Harry and this new thing (she couldn’t put a name to their relationship) with Draco, was that as much as she would like to deny it, she was attracted to him.

Curse the gods for this!

And now, with his odd behavior towards her - calling her his "pet" and being so damn flirtatious with her - was beginning to confuse her greatly and she couldn’t help but act flirtatious in return.

Hermione Granger was not supposed to be attracted to the enemy. She wasn’t supposed to wink at him, eat his offered chocolate cake while the rest of her peers were puking and almost starving, and most importantly, she wasn’t supposed to feel all tingly inside while seeing his bare chest!

The latter part was most un-Hermione-like and she needed to stay away from him as much as possible. She wasn’t supposed to be just like the majority of the female population in school. She was supposed to be smart enough to put her priorities straight and push boys back in the utmost corner of her mind, lock it up, and eat the keys (not eat deliciously, irresistible chocolate cake!).

But it was just her luck to be stranded on an island with him with still no means of leaving. It was either the fact the gods liked torturing her, or she was just doomed for all eternity to being placed in life-threatening situations and being attracted to a boy she shouldn’t be attracted to.

She was supposedly a genius but, well, her genes gave her intelligence in books, but they sure as hell made wrong choices in liking people. She constantly berated herself for following Harry and Ron around and almost being killed for her loyalty and friendship for them. They may be good friends, but they would be the death of her someday. And now, her choice in being attracted to Draco Malfoy of all people. Curse her brains and instinct!

“Hey! I smell chocolate!” someone screamed from behind her as she continued walking aimlessly around the lagoon. She stopped in her tracks suddenly and jerked herself from her thoughts.

Uh oh…

“Chocolate?! Where?” This voice belonged to Gregory Goyle, or maybe it was Crabbe. Well, they both spoke at one point or another; she couldn’t quite tell them apart from their voice.

But how predictable that it was those two out of all people to sniff out chocolate from a mile away.

She turned around and watched how one of the large, buffoons who followed Draco’s every wake and call sniffed the air like a dog.

“What is he doing?” Parvati yelled.

“Chocolate,” he grunted.

Parvati’s eyes widened. “Chocolate? Really? Where?” She leaped off from her sitting position on an enormous pink rock at the side of the lagoon.

Soon the entire population of stranded sixth year students gathered savagely and began to watch the sniffing bodyguard in action, chanting “Chocolate! Chocolate!” persistently, and raising their voices in tempo with every second.

Hermione remained standing, trembling at the scene before her. If everyone else found out she was the one eating chocolate cake without sharing, she’d be a goner.

It was all Malfoy’s fault!

Suddenly, the chanting stopped and Crabbe or Goyle’s finger pointed directly at Hermione. She gulped and decided to make a run for it in 3…2…

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With every second the light slowly began to fade, Pansy Parkinson’s fear multiplied. She was alone, she was tired, and she was hungry. Her clothes were rumpled, sticky with sweat, and her body itched from mosquito bites and who knew what else. Her hair was a pile of muck and she needed a bath.

She finally found herself a path that led out of the intertwining bushes and trees and stumbled out onto the shore. She took off her high-heeled Mary Janes, and then her socks, and allowed the feel of the sand under her feet to comfort her.

She sat by the shore, and allowed the water to cool her down. She washed her face with the salty water, spat the taste of it out of her mouth and crawled back towards the middle of the shore, wondering where all her friends went.

And then she cried.

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Just as she was about to reach counting to number 1, a piercing sound echoed through the island and into the hearts of the chocolate-driven students. It was the sound of the conch, and Hermione’s savior.

She wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead and ran off towards the boy who blew into the conch. It was Draco Malfoy and when she saw him, she pounced on him, knocking him off from the platform and toppling over him while squeezing his midsection tight with all her might. She was never this happy to see him.

And whether the reason for her uncharacteristic behavior was due the fact he had stopped the hunger-induced barbarians from attacking her, or because her mind had temporarily left her and her attraction towards him had taken control of her body, she didn’t know. But Hermione Granger held onto the startled boy, snuggled her head into his chest, and thanked him with the depths of her soul.

She had momentarily forgotten that it was because he offered her the chocolate cake in the first place that caused Crabbe and Goyle to notice the smell of chocolate on her and turn her peers against her.

“Uhh… Granger, I know I’m just so irresistible that it’s hard for a girl like you not to pounce on me but everyone is probably watching. We could always shag in the bushes but we've got work to do. Maybe later?” Draco told her, smirking at her and prying her hands away from him.

Hermione leapt out of his arms quicker than she had leapt into them and smacked her hand on her forehead. What was wrong with her?

Draco slowly got up, wiped the sand off of his pants, and watched her intently. She did not retort back after his comment and he wondered why.

But his ponderings did not get him anywhere, for all their peers were walking towards them. He had blown on the conch and he needed to start on with the meeting. He would wonder about Hermione some other time.

“Where’s Potter?” he asked her as he climbed back up onto the platform. He held up the conch with his left hand and twirled around his wand with his other.

“Huh?…oh yeah. I dunno,” Hermione stammered, trying to focus her mind.

“That’s odd. The Weasels aren’t here either.”

“Hey, Malfoy. Why’d you call us all up?” Blaise asked, sitting on a log and crossing his arms. “We’re were just going to get ourselves a taste of chocolate,” he said while licking his lips and staring at Hermione, “when you called and stopped us.”

Hermione shuddered and inched nearer to Draco. That Blaise Zabini was a quiet one, nice to Gryffindors sometimes, but right now he was just plain scary. Quiet ones, she thought, shaking her head, they’re always the ones planning conspiracy. They stay quiet, taking everything in, and when you least expect it, they attack.

“You’re an idiot, Zabini. How the fuck can there be chocolate on the island?” Draco said. Only Hermione was able to see the slight twitch in his lip as he tried to hide his smirk. “You’re all hallucinating. What you guys need,” he flicked his wrist once, pointed his wand straight at a berry that laid untouched on the ground, and shouted a spell. “…is food.” The poisonous berry transfigured into a pie and they all stared at it with their mouths watering and hands twitching.

But his former speech rang clearly into their ears. They did not want to touch it. Maybe the pie was poisonous too.

Draco jumped off the platform, handed Hermione the conch, and went over to pick up the pie. He broke a piece off with his hands, inspected it, and ate it. “Tastes like berries,” Draco mused.

His audience gasped.

“I never had a blue-berry pie before. But mmm…tastes good.

“What if it’s poisonous, Draco!” Parvati yelled out, running towards Draco and attempting to snatch the rest of the pie away from his hands. She didn’t want him to die. And Hermione felt a pang of some unknown feeling—oh dear, was it jealousy?—in the depths of her stomach. Stupid Parvati, always trying to get near all the hot guys in the school. Slut.

She silently gasped after finishing her train of thought.

What was she thinking! There was something definitely wrong with her. Damned island! It was making everyone turn so…different. So…uncharacteristic. They needed to find a way out…fast.

After a few more minutes of silence, Draco swallowed the rest of his piece, all the while holding the pie high over his head so that Parvati could not reach.

“The pie is not poisonous if that’s what you all are thinking,” Hermione said, after finally pushing her stray thoughts aside. “If you paid any attention at all in Transfiguration, then you’d know that when using magic to transfigure an object, it’s chemical properties no longer remain the same and are changed into the properties of the object it now has become. It’s basic 1st Year Transfiguration knowledge. I’m surprised at you all.”

Parvati inched away from Draco and glared at Hermione. “I knew that,” she whispered defensively and walked over to Lavender, humiliated.

“Right,” Draco said sarcastically to Parvati. He chuckled and then said: “Granger is right. This pie is no longer poisonous at all. You won’t feel sick. Of course, it all depends on whether you perform the spell correctly. One mispronunciation or wrong movement of wrist can alter the entire spell. You all must be careful.”

“At any rate, for those of you who aren’t too strong with magic,” he stared pointedly at Neville, who looked flushed in indignation, “…then I suggest you ask someone who does, like myself, Granger, Zabini, or Potter, and we’ll assist. Now, the island is filled with edibles, so good luck with filling your stomachs.”

“Draco, Neville is very good in Herbology,” Hermione told him in Neville’s defense.

“Oh, right. Well, he’s not too good in Transfiguration, now is he?” Draco reminded her.

“True, but you’re being mean,” she shot back.

“Wait a minute,” Blaise said. Everyone stopped as they looked for things they could transfigure into food. “Do you have any idea how we will be rescued?”

Draco and Hermione exchanged a quick glance. “I told you guys already, nothing’s completely for certain, but Snape did forewarn me about this island. He told me about it and said the ocean’s currents may just shift us away from the direction where we were supposed to land, in New York, to somewhere else, possibly this island. He told me to stay clear of it. When news gets by that we didn’t land in New York like the plan was, they should know that we’re here. It may take time, but we should get rescued sooner or later. Okay, so go on and fill your bellies. You all must be starving.”

When they all kept staring at him, he put his hands together, and yelled, “Dismissed!” at the top of his lungs. They were just about to obey him and leave when suddenly Harry came running towards them, screaming and waving his hands together.

“I got it! I got the perfect way!” he said while running and jumping over logs and rocks that came his way. He stopped in front of Draco, bent over his stomach, and held onto his thighs, trying to catch his breath. Parvati, now finding a different person to drool over, ran off to get some coconut milk and ran back as quick as her legs could carry her, handing it over to Harry who gratefully took it.

“What happened, Harry?” Hermione asked him, rubbing her friend’s back soothingly and walking him over to a log for him to sit and catch his breath.

“I found out a way to leave the island. Ron, Fred and George should come with the brooms any minute now.”

“Brooms? What are you talking about, Potter?”

“We’re here! We’re here with the brooms!” Ron yelled, running quickly towards them. His long legs gave him the ability to approach them fast. Four brooms followed him in the air as he came, with Fred and George bringing up the rear.

“We may not be able to Apparate,” Harry said, standing up and watching as his Firebolt flew straight at him. “We may not be able to swim but…” he grabbed the broom from the air and maneuvered himself on top of it. “…we could fly.”

Draco raised his eyebrows and nodded his head. “Not a bad idea, Potter. But I doubt it’ll work.”

“I don’t see you coming up with a bright idea,” Harry challenged. Hermione squeezed his arm, warning him and holding him back. She didn’t want them to fight. “And besides, why won’t it work?” Harry added, softening his voice.

Draco raised his eyebrow and hardened his face. “The barrier. In case you have forgotten, the barrier is not something that an easily be broken. If magic can’t go through it, who said you can?”

The Weasley brothers climbed on top of their own brooms and flew towards the rest of them.

“Just watch, Malfoy,” Ron said superiorly. “We’ll go straight back to Wizard London and come back with help.”

“How’d you get the brooms in the first place, Harry?” Hermione asked him, running her fingers over the Firebolt’s wooden handle. It was smooth to her touch, and cool. The vibration was tingling her skin.

“We Accio-ed it, watched it fly out of the water from underneath the ship, and put drying spells on it.”

Draco nodded his head in admiration. “Accio-ed the broom… smart idea.” He looked back up at the sky and then the color from his face drained. “But let’s see this thing get out of the barrier first,” he challenged.

“Oh, we will, Malfoy. We will,” Ron said daringly, hovering his broom higher and higher in the air. “We’ll get us rescued.”

“C’mon, enough chitchat. Let's go before it gets darker,” Harry said. The three other boys nodded their heads and took off in high speed into the air. The others watched as they sped off, screaming and yelling in happiness. They would be saved. They would no longer be starving. Back home. They would go back home!

The sun was down by the horizon at that time making it almost impossible to see them in the air. But they could still faintly see them: four little dots in the pinkish purple sky. They were leaving the island, and the higher the boys went, the higher up their hopes went.

Until of course, everything went horribly wrong.

The first broom to make it the furthest, only 90 feet in the air, smashed headfirst into the solid, magical barrier. The barrier was in a shape of a dome, rounding off all around the island and the boys were unable to make it past it. Just as when the signals reached the top, and made the sky illuminate into a white, cloudy barrier, when Harry touched the dome, he could go no further.

And instead, he came crashing down.

And following him was Fred and George and lastly Ron. As their brooms began their insane drop downwards, everyone gasped as the boys tried to regain their control. They were spiraling down, fast and uncontrollably.

It was only Harry who managed to turn his broom up in time and save himself from crashing onto the sandy shore. The other 3 boys landed straight down, crashing explosively, groaning in pain.

And while the boys laid on the ground, bruised, hurt, confused, and disappointed, everyone just stood silently, watching the fallen figures in the sand. Their hopes shattered. The boys had been defeated. The barrier had blocked everything; Draco was right all along. And now… they were all sure that they a very little chance to leave.

They met their limits, were defeated, and doomed.

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Chapter 5: Of Doom and Desolation
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‘He turned away, silent for a moment. Then his voice came again on a peak of feeling.
“There was a ship—”
One of the smaller hunters began to wail. The dismal truth was beginning to filter through to everybody.’
(--pg. 71)
Golding, William. Lord of the Flies. New York: The Berkley Publishing Group, 1954.

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By Queen of Serpents

Disclaimer:The story is loosely based on the theme of Lord of the Flies by William Golding. I am fortunate to be able to use the characters of Harry Potter but alas I do not own them.
Author's Note: Once again I apologize for the delay! I’ve been moving to a new house and things were getting a bit crazy back home so there was no time for fanfiction. Plus I had no internet connection for a month!! Could you believe that? I was dying!
Important Note: With HBP out and about, the 6th year of Harry Potter's life told and offical, this story has now become a complete AU (Alternate Universe). For a while, I was thinking about rewriting this to make sure it adhered to HBP and the new canon developments but then I thought to myself and realized it wouldn't be fair to anyone, and it wouldn't follow canon regardless of any of my changes so there's no real point.

So, since I wrote this story before HBP, it will remain to “function” as though HBP never happened.

That doesn’t mean it will be completely out of character and I will chuck canon out the window, of course I won’t. It simply means that as you read, you’ll have to forget a number of things: you’ll have to pretend the man who died didn’t die, there is no such thing of a Half-Blood Prince, a certain favorite character of mine did not have to do what he/she did, and certain pairings will either be ignored or altered slightly to fit my needs.

So it’s a straight up AU fic, with plausible reasoning. Of course I’m not going to have the character stuck on an island just because I want them to, there’s a hidden reason… a plot with a mixture about the Ministry, Hogwarts, and of course about Voldemort. So it’s not one of those, ‘Oh, I want to change canon because I’m a loser who doesn’t care about the books but my own imagination’. Sure it’s going to be an AU but the reasons behind everything will have a plausible reason and there will be Magic, there will be Voldemort and his threats. You’ll just have to forget you read HBP whenever you read Stranded though. :)

So with that said, I present to you the next chapter which has been fixed and perfected by my lovely beta, Pakrika!

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Chapter Five: Of Doom and Desolation

With heavy hearts and disappointment written across their faces, the stranded students from Hogwarts hurried toward their brave classmates, whose attempt at rescue had failed.

Hermione ran to Harry once she caught sight of his pale and shaken form. He had not been as injured as the others, and escaped the crazy broomstick ride with only a few minor scrapes and burns on the palm of his hand from the broom.

She flung her arms around him with tears spilling from her eyes. She actually had hoped that Harry would save the day once again like always, but it didn’t happen this time.

“Oh, Harry!” she sobbed. “I honestly thought—” she broke off, unable to continue. “Damn this!” she said suddenly pounding her fist on Harry’s shoulder. “Why are we stuck here? Who kept us here?” Her tears were blurring her vision and Harry tried to soothe her by rubbing her back, but he was just as distressed as she was and he couldn’t quite soothe himself, let alone his friend.

“That’s a good question, Granger,” Hermione hastily broke away from Harry and wiped her tears when she heard Draco’s voice behind her. A blush crept up to her cheeks and she tried to distance herself from Harry as much as possible when she realized she was in his arms far too long than necessary. She didn’t want Draco to think…something that really wasn’t the case. Although why she cared what Draco assumed, she didn’t know. Well, she had a slight idea but she didn’t want to go there. At least…not now.

“Perhaps if we knew the motive and the nature of this island, we could find a way to disable the force-field and leave.” Draco told her while walking towards the two of them.

Hermione nodded her head in agreement. It was a good theory on how to approach the matter of the force field. It was the only thing that was in the way of them getting rescued and finding out what the force field really was would give a clue to how to find a loophole and get off of the island.

“Perhaps your intellectual mind could figure it out,” Draco added. “For now, let us go and see how the Weasleys fare. I hear much commotion from there, and they had dropped down pretty harshly.” Draco added with a frown, although Hermione could sense amusement dancing in his eyes.

Suddenly, his words registered in her mind. “Oh God, Ron! I forgot about him!” She took Harry’s hand and tugged on it. “C’mon Harry, let’s go see if he’s alright.”

“Before you go!” Draco called out, making them halt in their tracks. The Slytherin’s voice suddenly became grave and serious. “I just wanted to say that the idea of flying out to get help was a good one and it’s a shame that it didn’t work but—”

“Don’t say a thing, Malfoy,” Harry interrupted. His voice was strained with frustration and worry and he had interpreted Draco’s serious voice to be mocking, not sympathetic. “I don’t need to you say ‘I told you so.’ I know you were right, okay?” He grasped Hermione’s hand tightly and pulled her away. “C’mon Hermione. Let’s go.”

Draco’s face hardened and he scowled darkly. Hermione, who was being pulled away from Harry, turned her head and gave him an apologetic look. Draco saw the look and his face immediately softened, but it did nothing to rid him of his foul mood.

One should never try to act gentlemanly with one’s enemy, he concluded with a sneer.

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Pansy Parkinson rubbed her belly. The hunger that was formulating there earlier that day had intensified a tenth-fold. She sighed and remembered the last thing she ate. It was a ripe banana which filled her considerably but now, hours later, as she wandered back along the beach, her hunger swelled. Try as she might, she could not find the location of the bananas again anywhere. She would have to go on another night hungry and alone.

Suddenly, she spun around with her eyes keen and ears alert. She heard a noise, one that was closer than any of the other ones she heard. The sound of the shell and other such noises were always far and distant, and never felt dangerous. However, the source of this noise, the sound of something falling harshly from the sky, had made her tremble.

Before this noise, she had a feeling that survival and freedom would eventually come. Hope was forever in her mind. However, suddenly; without reason, that hope vanished, and only a deep void and spreading loneliness remained.

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It was too dark to see clearly, but Hermione was able to make out the form of Ron; he was lying on the ground a few feet away. There was a crowd of students surrounding him, but they made room for Hermione and Harry to rush to Ron’s side.

At once, Hermione noticed the acute look of pain in Ron’s eyes and lifted his head to rest it on her lap. She chewed the inside of her cheek in worry and nervousness.

“Ron,” she called out to him, slapping his cheeks lightly. His eyes were beginning to roll to the back of his head and he was beginning to lose consciousness.

Harry was checking his pulse, and then examined his body to check for injuries and broken bones. “Nothing’s broken and he has a faint pulse. Maybe the shock of his broom falling down without his control was too much for him.”

“Plus he’s weak,” Draco added. He was standing behind Harry, his wand lit so that he could see Ron’s pale complexion better. Hermione looked up and caught Draco’s eyes, which were dark and eerie due to the light coming from the top of his wand. His lips showed the signs of a faint smile. Pleased for some unknown reason, Hermione quickly looked back at Ron to stop the temptation of smiling back at him. “He ate a lot of those berries and threw up a lot too. It must have taken a load out of him.”

“Yeah, he’s right. What Ron needs is rest, food, and a few healing charms to mend those cuts and bruises,” Hermione said. She turned her head to inspect the other two Weasleys, who were presently getting up with twisted smiles on their faces.

“That was wicked--,” Fred said, his eyes twinkling, despite the obvious pain he was in.

“—Crazy. Thrilling,” George was continuing.

Hermione shook her head and smiled at their optimism. The twins had a knack for turning dangerous situations into something fun. They took out their wands and healed themselves. The crowd began to disperse after the Weasley twins were back on their feet, and headed back towards camp to get ready to sleep.

Ron, it seemed, was fast asleep with his head lying on Hermione’s lap. She looked up helplessly at Harry when it became apparent that Ron wouldn’t wake up and would remain resting his head on her lap the night through. Her legs were beginning to get numb and she would’ve pushed Ron’s head away but his head was too heavy.

“Harry, would you mind trying to get Ron off of me!” Hermione hissed in annoyance. Harry chuckled and then took out his wand, and wordlessly levitated Ron off of her. Hermione, with difficultly, tried to get the feeling back into her legs and watched as Harry took Ron away towards camp.

She followed Harry and the floating Ron soon afterward and immediately felt a wave of gloominess and dread engulf her. Everyone seemed to be tired and every once and a while a sigh would rise out of a frustrated and drained person and would fill the place with even more unhappiness. They all seemed to be without any hope, as though they finally accepted the fact they were never going to be saved.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked Neville in a whisper after he set Ron down.

Neville frowned and was silent for a few seconds before replying, “Well, with you guys unable to get off and find out a way to get rescued, everyone basically thinks we won’t ever get off the island.”

“And let’s face it,” Seamus said as he approached Harry and sat on top of a log, “since when was Snape every that trusty, and who knows whether Malfoy’s telling the truth or just trying to keep our hopes up. Though why he would try to make us feel happy is beyond me."

“Right now all we know is that we’re stuck here, and we’re stuck here for good,” Neville added.

Hermione frowned and realized that now would be a good time for one of Draco’s fiery, motivating speeches to temporarily keep everyone hopeful, but the boy was nowhere to be seen. The place was pitch dark all around, and the lights from people’s wands were giving off an eerie blue glow that dampened the already gloomy mood. The trees surrounding them were giving off threatening shadows and the place looked foreboding, fitting perfectly with the feeling of utter doom.

Suddenly, with the weight of his responsibility, threats upon his life, and this new situation they were stuck in, Harry slowly slid down onto the ground and buried his head in his hands.

“Harry? Harry, what’s wrong?” Hermione asked gently. She crouched down on the ground beside him and put a hand on his shoulder for comfort.

He leaned into her touch and took a deep, shuddering breath. “I just—” He exhaled loudly and looked at Hermione in the eye. His glasses were askew and his green eyes were dull and sad. “I just can’t take it anymore. First Voldemort and now all this new drama. It’s too much for me.”

Hermione sat down and took both of his hands in hers. “I can only try to understand what you’re feeling,” she told him quietly. “I just wish we hadn’t listened to Dumbledore and stayed in Hogwarts instead. Everyone’s parents thinks we’re going to New York,” she whispered to him, “when we’re really going to Australia to flee from Voldemort. Now if anyone’s parents really want to look for us, they’ll have trouble since only Order members know where we really are.”

“Agreeing to come on this stupid trip was dumb,” Harry told her. “I can’t believe I agreed to run away instead of fighting off Voldemort then and there.”

Hermione patted Harry’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault. We all thought going to Australia would bide you time so you could be fully trained to take him on. Who would have thought we would be stuck here instead?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. He stared up at the sky and clenched his fists. “If only we found a way to get past that force field.”

“If only,” Hermione agreed. “‘Till then, we could only hope and be optimistic. Enjoy these few days without worrying that Voldemort is out to kill you.”

“Yeah, while he kills everyone else to find out where we are,” Harry replied grumpily.

Hermione shut her mouth and widened her eyes at the realization. So many people would be dying while they were stuck here, unable to help. “At least we might stand a chance to get off of this island if they come out looking for us.”

“Yeah, and be killed before we get out.”

Hermione opened her mouth to say something else optimistic, but she had nothing left to say that would lift Harry’s spirits and allow him to keep hope. He was too stubborn to think positively, and Hermione didn’t blame him. They were doomed and there was nothing they could do about it but accept it.

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Hermione shut the enormous book she was browsing and stood up to put it back onto the shelf. As soon as she stood up, she felt an unusual rush of blood reach up to her head, making her dizzy. She clutched her head with one hand and wobbled away from the chair, the book falling off of the desk and on to the floor. The sound of it increased the pounding in her head and she tried to steady herself by holding on to a shelf of a nearby bookcase.

Suddenly, the bookcase toppled over, at first swaying towards her and then going the opposite direction as soon as her scream echoed through the empty library. One bookcase toppled over another in a domino effect until all around her, books were scattered on the floor and shelves lay broken and twisted.

The pounding in her head subsided and she panted heavily, her body shaking from fear of almost being squashed by a heavy bookcase. Soon afterward, she began to worry, wondering what to do and how to put the bookcases back up and the books in their proper shelf.

She picked up the book she was looking at earlier and when she looked around, she was no longer standing in a library with a dozen overturned bookshelves. She was on a dark, deserted island and she trembled in fear and surprise. When she looked back at her hands, the book was gone.

She brought her hands up to rub her eyes, thinking this might be some sort of a bizarre illusion when her hands felt soft and saggy. She frowned and looked at her hands, her eyes wide with fright.

Her hands were old and wrinkly.

She felt tears spring into her eyes and she cried long and hard. Her eyes were closed and she wept for her lost childhood. When finally no more tears were left to shed, she opened her eyes and again was shocked to see the change in scenery. She was no longer standing in the middle of a beach, but floating in the middle of an ocean.

She was drowning this time and she tried to swim her way back up to the surface but she couldn’t. Frantically, she flapped her hands to her sides to no avail until she finally stopped and allowed herself to sink deeper into the water.

Just when she was sure that she was going to die, she looked up and saw a pale light reach its way into the ocean and then two strong arms. They were the arms of her savior.

He pulled her up towards him. His hands were soft and ethereal, and his touch made her feel as though all was safe and well in the world. At that brief moment, she had no thoughts about her wrinkled hands or her lost books. She just wanted to lose herself and have him holding her in his arms forever.

She didn't think to look at his face until moments later, but when she titled her head, all she was able to see was his blond hair obscuring her view and hiding the identity of her savior.

All these feelings and thoughts arose within her in the depths of the water. It was as though when he touched her, she didn't feel the water filling her, suffocating her. She felt as though she was floating in the air, in heaven and everything else was nonexistent, inconsequential. Even if it meant her breath, her very source of life, she didn't think to care.

Just moments after they reached the surface and her lungs thanked her, greedily gulping up the air, she looked at him, her eyes narrow and curious. She reached out to him, brushed his wet blond hair aside and was able to glance at him for a mere second.

Before she was given a chance to recognize who he was, he vanished.

And without his support, she was left to fall back down in the ocean, sinking, drowning, and utterly submerged in the depths of despair.

Hermione’s eyes shot open and she panted heavily, sitting up in her makeshift bed. She looked down at her hands straight away to find them perfectly smooth and young, and a wave of relief washed over her. It was just a dream.

But when she realized she wasn’t sleeping in her comfortable four-poster bed at Hogwarts, she sighed. Too bad this wasn’t part of the dream too.

She ran a hand through her messy hair and briefly looked up; unexpectedly her eyes locked with Draco’s gray eyes. His blond hair was shining prominently in the moonlight and Hermione’s mind briefly flashed back to the dream and her savior.

She shook her head, trying to clear it from her weird dream and then got up, deciding to see why Draco was up so late. It was better to forget the dream than dwell on it. After all, it was just a dream. It wasn’t like she was going to grow old and wrinkly on this forsaken island.


She rubbed her forehead and turned back to look at Draco, trying to rid the thoughts from her mind. He had a faraway look in his eyes and his face was glum. His chest heaved with a long, drawn out sigh and Hermione’s heart flew to him. Suddenly, she was sad too.

“Thinking about Pansy?” Hermione asked him in a whisper while looking out in the forest. Draco merely nodded his head “I’m sure she’s still out there. We’ll find her soon. Maybe we could even start a search party.” He still didn’t look at her, and shrugged his shoulders.

Hermione furrowed her brows, trying to figure out why he wouldn’t look at her. “We’ll find her and get rescued too,” Hermione added, assuming he was just gloomy because he too accepted the fact they won’t be saved. “You said so yourself.”

Draco shrugged his shoulders again and Hermione felt as though a bucket of ice was thrown over her head. She shivered at his cold behavior and felt herself shrink away from him. She’d rather have him call her a Mudblood and shoo her away than barely acknowledge her existence.

She hugged herself and suddenly found herself very alone. She glanced at the desolation around her and remembered her bizarre dream with a shudder.

Everyone nearly accepted the fact that they would be stuck on this island forever. She thought that at least Draco wouldn’t be one of them, but he was, and now Hermione had nothing else to hope for. She felt her world twist out from the depths of her stomach and strangle her. Her hands were shaking and her cheeks were wet with silent tears.

She was going to grow old in this island. She was never going to be able to read those books that lay waiting for her back home. She was going to die in this island and never experience life the way she should, the way she deserved.

Suddenly, she felt Draco’s warm hands wipe her tears away. He lifted her chin with his index finger so that his eyes were locked with hers and she could feel the warmth of his body thawing her frozen nerves. His hands cupped her cheek and gently rubbed her lower lip, and her heart was beating hard against her ribcage. His other hand brought her closer to him and she buried her head in his bare chest when his fingers left her lips to rest on her hips. Her hands ran along his abdomen and slowly wrapped themselves around his body, draining in all the comfort he could give her.

After he was sure that she wasn’t going to cry, his arms left her waist and Hermione stepped back away from the circle of his arms. She looked up into his eyes again and saw that they were no longer dull and sad. She smiled at him, suddenly pleased.

All around them, the island bred the horrid feeling of doom and gave off the damp odor of desolation, but as the two of them stood there less than a foot away from each other, staring at each other’s eyes, they knew they would be saved someday and a small flame of hope ignited between them. They just didn’t know when or where but it would happen. They would be saved.

And even if they didn’t, it was better to hope foolishly than to give up completely. For hope could bring a tiny bit of happiness and one smile could be enough to light up even the darkest of times.

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Chapter 6: Of Derision and Diversions
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"This is our island. It's a good island. Until the grown-ups come to fetch us, we'll have fun"’ (-- pg. 35 )
Golding, William. Lord of the Flies. New York: The Berkley Publishing Group, 1954.

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By Queen of Serpents

Disclaimer: The story is loosely based on the theme of Lord of the Flies by William Golding. I am fortunate to be able to use the characters of Harry Potter but alas I do not own them.

Author's Note: Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry! I know I take AGES to update. I’m ashamed of myself. I really am. But I haven’t given up! Here it is, the next chapter. I’m thinking we’re almost near the middle of the story. Amazing huh? :D

Oh and this chapter is like a comic relief chapter. It’s a drastic change from where we were previously, but I think it’s for the best. Read it. Enjoy it. Review it!

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Chapter Six: Of Derision and Diversions

Sweat accumulated on his forehead. His lips curled into an irritated sneer. His eyebrows furrowed. It was hot. The sun was burning into his skin.

He opened his eyes at last, unable to go back to his unfinished sleep. He noticed he was shirtless, for he had bunched his shirt up under his head to serve as a pillow. Still, the heat was oppressive and he was hot.

Then he noticed why he was more warm than usual. A shapely, female leg was thrown carelessly over his, and a hand rested dangerously low on his abdomen. She had a warm, cozy body.

When he turned to see her face, he was pleasantly surprised to see Hermione sleeping peacefully for a second night in a row. An unusual sort of flush rose to his cheeks, and his body tingled all over.

Draco smiled, feeling unusually satisfied.

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When Pansy woke up, she sighed: one more day of loneliness, one more day of hunger. How long would it have to be until she would finally meet her friends? Was Draco even looking for her? Were any of them remotely missing her? Were they even alive?

She shook her head and sat up slightly. It was then that she realized that unlike the day before, she wasn’t that cold. It was odd, but when she looked down, she saw what the creature was that gave her this warmth. It was a cat that was curled up by her side, its face nuzzling her thigh.

It took her every effort to not scream.

Trembling, she touched the cat, hoping it was just an illusion. But its gray fur was soft against her touch and that meant it was real.

When she looked closely at it, the cat seemed strangely familiar.

Could it be that it was Mrs. Norris?

Her eyes widened. Maybe everyone was alive. Maybe she had a chance!

Normally, she hated that cat, but when it woke up, she picked it up, kissed its filthy nose and snuggled it to her bosom. The cat snarled and struggled to get free, but Pansy didn’t take any notice.

Mrs. Norris was the first speck of civilization she had the luck to encounter and she was elated beyond imagination.

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After he woke up, washed his face, and ate another blueberry pie, Draco walked back to where Hermione was sleeping. The sun was higher up in the sky by now, the rays dancing over her cheeks and causing her to shut her eyes tighter as the light began to strengthen. He could tell that she was just about to put her arms over her face as to block out the bright rays of the sun but he approached her to prevent the light from waking her with his shadow.

Draco watched her as she slept for a few minutes, wanting deeply to caress her freckled cheeks and plant kisses along her jaw. This desire he felt for her was beginning to grow overpowering.

He never would have thought he would be lusting over Hermione Granger of all people, but ever since he saved her from drowning, he felt an unusual bond between her and as much as he tried, he couldn’t shake the feeling off. After being alone with her for so long, he realized she wasn’t as bad as he had always thought she was. In fact, her personality intrigued him.

Granted she was still a know-it-all, and she was quite snobby about it. She was continually bossing everyone around with her orders even though he had been picked as leader, but that just made him want her more. He liked his girls bossy. It was kinky.

And she also had a flirtatious side and he still couldn’t get his mind off of the time when she pushed that chocolate cake through her teeth, savoring the taste of it as though it was the most delightful thing that ever existed. He could only imagine what it would feel like to kiss her.

Before last night, when she cried, the feeling was purely a sexual attraction, but now he didn’t know what he felt. Draco Malfoy didn’t hug girls- that was Potter’s job- but now that he did, he felt another bond with her. She saw him in a vulnerable moment and he had comforted Hermione in hers.

Draco never felt so distraught before. Although he knew that barrier surrounding the island would make it impossible for Harry and his gang to make it through, he couldn’t help but hold some semblance of hope. It was only natural.

However, when the boys fell, it was as though a heavy weight was dropped onto his shoulders, a burden that he found no way to get rid of. If they couldn’t fly through the barrier, what guarantee was there that anyone who would come to rescue them would get past it? What chance was there for them to ever get saved?

There was another route they could use, but it was far too dangerous. It was to construct a boat and leave the island just like the way they came. But the whirlpool that had directed them here would obstruct their way again, and who knew if they could survive?

Draco was thinking this last night, and he had felt his heart sink at every thought. Unless they figured out a way to disable the force field, they would be doomed to stay here for all eternity. However, ‘How?’ was the question. How could they figure out a way to undo the barrier?

He gave everyone the hope that they would saved sooner or later because Snape warned them about this particular island, but that didn’t even console him, let alone everyone else. Doubt was brewing in everyone’s minds about Draco’s words, and now he himself didn’t believe there would be a chance.

To add to his worry, Pansy was still out there missing. He knew she couldn’t have vanished in the sea and died. She was a good swimmer and if Neville of all people made it to the island without a scratch, certainly Pansy did too.

All of these thoughts were floating in his head, and he just wanted to sink into the ground and leave all the worry behind for others to take care of. When Hermione tried to console him, he ignored her, for what she gave him was false hope and he didn’t want that. It was better to know the bitter truth and accept it than to be ignorant of it or spin up excuses to deny it. All his life he had been a pro at being ignorant, but he knew it was better not to be.

So when he saw Hermione crying, he knew she had finally realized the gravity of their situation. He hugged her to comfort her. It was instinctive, and would’ve been perfectly innocent were it not for the fact his treacherous fingers traced the outline of her pouted lips. Just the feel of her lips against his skin made him wonder how it would feel to really kiss her. He didn’t mean for it to awaken these compressed emotions in him, but it had.

And now he was watching her while slept.

Wait a minute, he was watching her while she was sleeping? Draco quickly shook his head and snapped out of his trance.

What was he thinking, watching a girl sleeping? Especially in the morning, when she could wake up at any moment and others could see him mooning over her like a love-struck puppy?

He shook his head at his peculiarity, turned his head from side to side to make sure no one saw him, and then walked away when the coast was clear, leaving Hermione to bake in the sun.

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They looked so worried for him- so concerned, Draco thought, feeling an unusual churn inside his stomach. He never saw that look directed to him before and he was…jealous?

No, he shook his head. He wasn’t jealous. And he certainly was not jealous of Ronald Weasley.

When he walked away from Hermione in the morning, he found himself wanting to explore a bit. It was a new day, bright and sunny, and he felt adventurous. Perhaps he could even find Pansy. The chances were small, but he had hoped, and his hope led him nowhere.

When he got back, he noticed emptiness in everyone and instead of delighting in their sorrow like he probably would have if they were back at Hogwarts, he felt unhappy right along with them. He had never experienced these feelings before. The understanding of the distress and worry others had. He never really felt pain or sadness. He never felt helpless. He was jealous of Harry Potter and Hermione because the former was famous and the latter smart, but he wasn’t jealous of people because of how much they were loved.

He was being suffocated with these new feelings and the burden of being stuck on this island. It was as though he was changing, evolving into an entirely different person, and he couldn’t put a stop to it. He even forgot why he made that truce with Hermione. He knew he had an ulterior motive, but he had no idea what it was anymore.

It was as though being confined to this island made him lose not only his home, but his identity. And not having Pansy to remind him of his place made things all the more worse. She was the one to anchor him from straying his thoughts, to remind him of his duties of the only son of a Pureblood family. Without her, was he really himself? If she never came back, what would he become?

He pushed his thoughts away and looked back to the trio. Weasley woke up and dumbly asked where they were and why it was so bright in his dorm. When they reminded him of what had transpired he swore loudly. Hermione’s eyes flashed and she scolded him for his foul tongue.

It was strange how she was the same person around them, but completely different around him.

It was also strange how that same thing applied to him as well.

"Ahem, Potter, could I have a word?"

"Not now, Malfoy. I’m busy," he replied, shooing him away and helping Ron sit up.

"I think what I have to say is a lot more important than Weasley vying for attention," he snapped back.

"Malfoy, you’ve got some nerve," Harry told him, getting up on his feet. His voice rose in pitch and Hermione grabbed his arm.

"Just hear him out," she told him, vexed.

"Fine! What is it, Malfoy?" he asked reluctantly.

"We need entertainment—"

"Entertainment? Are you out of your bloody mind! What do you mean by entertainment? We’re here, stuck on a bloody island, and all you’re thinking about is entertainment!"

Draco gave out a mock yawn. "Are you quite finished, Potter?"

"No, I’m not finished—"

"Good, because I don’t care." He tried to hide his grin. He loved seeing Potter so worked up. It was quite satisfying. Maybe he should do this more often, it made him temporarily happy.

"Why are you always so melodramatic?" Draco said flatly. He didn’t allow Harry to retort and simply continued, "As I was saying before I so rudely interrupted, we need entertainment. It’s to keep everyone’s minds off of depression. Look at everyone. Crabbe and Goyle are fighting over the same banana while there’s probably a few more right next to their heads. The Patil twins aren’t talking to each other. Goldstein is yelling at Abbot, accusing her of cheating on him…" Draco didn’t mention the fact it was due to him. He mentally chuckled because of it. "Everyone’s gone crazy. What we need is a diversion."

"Bloody Hell. How did Malfoy get so smart?" Weasley commented from the ground, slinging his arm over Hermione’s shoulders.

If it weren’t for the fact Weasley was so close to Granger, he would actually smirk at the comment. Instead he was trying very hard no to grind his teeth together or sneer.

"It’s true, how did he get so smart suddenly," Hermione agreed, furrowing her brows in contemplation. When she noticed the scowl on Draco’s face, she stuck out her tongue at him. He shook his head, but couldn’t help smiling at her.

"Fine," Harry said reluctantly. "But what are we going to do?"

"Leave that to me," Draco replied smugly. He threw the conch in the air, caught it, and then blew on it for added dramatics. Harry rolled his eyes and watched as their mates arrived.

"Alright, you guys, I know what you all are thinking," Draco told them. "We’re stuck here, yes, we probably won’t be saved any time soon," he paused and then spoke louder to get his voice heard among the mumbling, "But that doesn’t mean we won’t be saved. It just might take longer than usual. What we need to do is figure out a way to get rid of the force field. And trust me, it will happen. But in the meanwhile, we have to keep on having hope."

Hermione noticed the lack of enthusiasm in his voice. What happened to yesterday’s speeches with the magnetism and the confidence?

"And stop moping around," Draco told Neville who was looking at the floor in a lonely manner. "It’s not the end of the world." He shook his head at Neville and then continued, with a bit more passion, "There’s no school, no professors to breathe down our backs, and most importantly… we have a wand," he paused to let the implications sink into them. "So I say… let’s have some fun!" He raised his hand in the air and was going to cheer along with everyone one else but there was silence. No cheering, no clapping, no grunts of agreement.

Draco chewed his lip and put his hand down. His face was flushed. He looked back at Potter and Weasley who shook their heads and lowered their eyes in shame. He clenched his fists and looked back at the lifeless crowd. Suddenly, he smirked, glanced at the sullen Potter and Weasley again, and cackled silently. The idea was just too good….

"And to start off…" his voice was booming on the island, "We’ll have Harry and Ron dressed in drag!"

There was long period of silence. Potter and Weasley looked utterly confused. And then…

The crowd went wild.

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"Oh my god," Hermione cried out between a fit of giggles. "That was just the most hilarious thing in the world. Malfoy, you are a genius!"

She collapsed onto the sandy beach and looked up at Malfoy from her sitting position on the floor.

"Yeah, I know," he replied smugly. She smacked his leg playfully.

"It was a good thing Parvati and Patil had some extra dresses on them…though why they did was beyond me," Hermione continued. "And Neville! When we go back home and graduate, he must open an herbal makeup company."

"Mmhmm," Draco replied, uninterestedly. When Hermione was about to chide him for not paying attention to her, she noticed he was intently looking down on the ground. He crouched and then picked up what looked to be an earring. "Pansy," he whispered.

"What happened?" she asked him, crawling nearer to him.

"This earring," he told him, showing her a golden earring shaped like a snake. Typical for a Slytherin, Hermione thought to herself. "It was Pansy’s. I gave it to her on her birthday last month."

Hermione was just about to go "Aww" and coo about how sweet he was, when she remembered Pansy was missing.

"This means that she’s here. She might even be alive." The joy and breathlessness in his voice was clear. Hermione couldn’t help but feel slightly…envious?

"That’s wonderful," she replied unenthusiastically.

"I wonder where she went though," he said sadly.

There was silence. "You’ll find her soon enough." She paused and then said, trying not to crack her voice, "Do you love her?"

"Yeah," he told her without hesitation. Hermione’s heart was sinking. "She’s like a baby sister to me…only she’s just 2 months older than me," he added with a smile.

"Oh!" Hermione couldn’t help but let out the relief in her voice show. She noticed her response might have sounded odd so she added gently, "That’s sweet."


To stop an awkward silence from creeping up between them, she stood up and rubbed her shoulders, looking out to the distant sky. She could tell it was midday and her stomach was protesting. "I’m hungry."

He turned to face her, a smile on his lips. "You’re always hungry. Maybe being out here in the middle of nowhere with no food, you’ll finally lose those extra pounds." His remark was supposed to be humorous, but Hermione didn’t see it.

"How dare you?" she screeched, offended. She folded her arms across her chest and gave him a hard glare before walking away. "I knew you’d always be the same," she said over her shoulder.

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Girls always had to be so difficult, Draco thought to himself as he walked towards Blaise. Millicent came over to Draco when she saw him and clapped him on the shoulder. He smiled; Millicent was probably the only girl who didn’t care about her looks or her demeanor. He liked looking at hot girls — which boy didn’t? — but he also would have liked a girl who didn’t get offended so easily.

"Where have you been all day?" Blaise asked lazily while reclining against a tree. His dark skin was glossy with sweat.

Draco noticed that a lot of girls were staring at his exposed chest, much like they did to his the day before. Jealous, he grabbed Blaise’s shirt from the branch it was dangling on and threw it at him.

"What was that about?" Blaise asked him, sitting straighter.

Draco didn’t feel the need to answer him. A moment later, he asked, "Have you seen Granger?"

Blaise furrowed his eyebrows. That was not the reply he was expecting. "She’s with Scarhead and Weasel. But—never mind," he shook his head, deciding it was better not to ask him. "Any clue regarding Pans?"

Draco froze. Pansy. The earring. He dug through his pocket and fished out the earring he had found. He threw it to Blaise, who caught it and inspected it.

Millicent leaned her head forward to take a look too. "Where’d you find this?" she asked.

"On the east part of the beach."

Blaise stood up and grabbed Millicent’s hand. "We’re going to look for her."

Before Draco had a chance to respond, or even tell them he wanted to go too, they ran off.

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"When I get my hands on Malfoy, I swear…" Ron grumbled, trying to wipe the makeup from his face.

Hermione giggled and helped him wipe off the color from his lips. Ron flushed when she touched him so intimately and quickly shooed her hand away.

"Oh c’mon! It was funny." Hermione told him, thinking Ron shooed her away because she was giggling about the two of them dressing like girls. "Aren’t I right, Harry?"

Harry emerged from behind the bush he was changing from. "Oh of course, Hermione. It was hilarious. I cannot contain my laughter," he told her sarcastically. "I just can’t wait to go off and dress like a girl in front of my peers again."

"You boys need to lighten up," Hermione told them.

"Ha? You’re telling us? Miss I-must-study-for-the-NEWTs-even-though-we-still-have-7-more-months-left-so-I-can’t-go-to-the-party," Ron told her nastily.

Hermione bit her lip and stood up, once again folding her arms across her chest. She glared at them and walked away.

"What’s up with her?" Ron asked Harry who in turn just sighed.

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Hermione wandered among her peers, sometimes mingling, sometimes simply watching them as they ate or chatted among each other. The girls were by the lagoon mostly, and the single guys watched over them. One or two times, she even caught them staring hungrily at the water drenched girls.

Hermione smiled. It was quite an improvement since yesterday. Though this happiness was but an illusion, Hermione came to the conclusion that without ignorance and illusions, people would simply go mad. They needed to indulge once in a while.

"Oh gross, Malfoy. Put on some pants," she heard Seamus yell. She furrowed her eyebrows and turned to see what all the commotion was about.

Draco was standing there, his hair was a dark blond, wet and dripping. His face was completely red. She looked down noticing his enticing wet chest and then further down…

She felt her face grow hot and quickly averted her eyes when she realized he wasn’t only wearing no pants, but no boxers either.

"I would wear some, but someone wanted to see me naked and took my pants," he said. Hermione was surprised to hear that his voice wasn’t angry, just amused.

"Who? Ron?" Parvati squeaked.

Hermione spun around to look at Ron, her eyes were wide and accusing. "Are you serious? Ron!"

"He made us dress like girls. It’s payback," Ron replied, his face crimson as well, but his voice was surprisingly firm.

Fred and George appeared from behind a bush. The two of them were laughing hysterically.

"Now we could finally say…" Fred began.

"That you are worthy of being called our brother," George finished off.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Boys were so typical. "You had your fun, now hand the pants back to him," she scolded.
Ron pouted. Harry nudged his shoulder. Ron finally gave in. "Fine. Accio Pants." The pants came zooming into Draco’s face, nearly knocking him over.

Everyone howled with laughter and giggles.

"What about his boxers?" Hermione was the only one not laughing.

Ron and Harry shrugged their shoulders. "We didn’t want to touch it. So we left it there."

Hermione made an annoyed sound between a shriek and a squeak, walked over to Draco, not caring he was naked, grabbed his hand and led him away.

She didn’t know why but she suddenly felt responsible for getting Draco his clothes back on. No one needed to be made into a spectacle like that. Dressing like a girl was one thing, but naked another. It set a bad example to everyone else.

When they disappeared into the trees, away from everyone else, Hermione dropped his hand, suddenly realizing what she was doing.

She turned around to tell him to wear his clothes, when she found herself staring at him down there. She gulped and quickly looked away. Draco chuckled.

"Ugh, Malfoy! Please put on your pants!" She shut her eyes tightly.

"Are you angry?"

"No I’m not angry!" she yelled at him. Then realized how foolish her response was.

"Why? Fight with Weasley before?"

"No. And even if I did it’s none of your business!"

"As leader of this band of survivors, I’d say I have all the right I need. Not to mention I’ve been sharing a bed with you for the past two days. Now that has to count for something."

"Two days? What are you—" But then she stopped, because the memories of last night came flashing back. After the two of them talked, hugged, and parted, she had that same dream again. She didn’t know why but she got up and went to him and asked him if she could sleep near him. But that did not count for the fact she was sleeping with him! There was a 3 foot distance for what she remembered!

"Exactly," he told her smugly.

"It doesn’t count. There was space between us."

"Not when I woke up. You were all over me."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

"You don’t believe me?" he asked with his head titled to the side.

"No," she retorted. When she turned to look at him, she accidentally looked down again. "Malfoy! Put the pants on!"

"Fine," he said. She could tell that he was still amused by the situation, not embarrassed in the least. It was only after she heard him zip up his pants that she realized she could’ve just left long ago.

She was just about to when she felt his hands on her arm. He spun her around. "Going somewhere?" he asked.

She nodded.

"You’re not going to help me look for my boxers?"

She shook her head, trying to focus on not looking at his chest.

He gently pushed her against a tree and she felt her breath escape from her mouth. Her heart picked up speed and was beginning to pump madly. "But I want you to stay," he said into her ear.

She gulped again. By then, she could feel every curve of his body pushed up against hers. His lips touched her earlobe and she trembled slightly. His hands wove around her body, pulling her closer to him. His lips left her ear and went down to touch her neck, kissing her softly where the neck met the shoulder. She held her breath from either shock or pleasure, or maybe even both.

"Malfoy." She meant it to be a protest, but it came out in a breathless gasp, which he took as a word of encouragement. He pulled her closer at every touch until she could feel his growing sense of arousal buried in her thigh. His lips were everywhere- on her neck, the length of her jaw, her cheeks, and her eyelids. Everywhere except for her pining lips.

"Malfoy! Come here quick!" called out a male voice. It sounded like Zabini’s.

All too soon, his lips left her.

"Be right there!" he called back.

He looked back at her, his gray eyes were dark and clouded with lust. He nuzzled her neck. "And as for you," he told her huskily, "I’ll be back." He kissed the side of her mouth, still not touching her lips, before releasing her from his hold and taking off.

She remained standing there, panting and trying to calm her frantic nerves.

Only a second later did Hermione realize that he had been teasing her.

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Author's Note: [1/22/06] Just a little note to you all, I'm willing to create a mailing list. if you want to be included, please leave your email address in a review!

The next chapter will arrive very soon!

Chapter 7: Of Instinct and Irrationality
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‘Darkness poured out, submerging the ways between the trees until they were dim and strange as the bottom of the sea. The candle-buds opened their wide white flowers glimmering under the light that prickled down from the first stars. Their scent spilled out into the air and took possession of the island.’ (--pg.57 )
Golding, William. Lord of the Flies. New York: The Berkley Publishing Group, 1954.

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By Queen of Serpents

Disclaimer: The story is loosely based on the theme of Lord of the Flies by William Golding. I am fortunate to be able to use the characters of Harry Potter but alas I do not own them.

Author's Note: So another long wait. I’m sorry but honestly this chapter was one of the hardest things to write. I had a good chunk of 6 pages written but I forgot to save a few of those pages. Needless to say, I lost a bunch of my writing and rewriting something you already wrote is hard, especially since you know it won’t get to be as wonderful as the first time.

So I tried and tried and now, here I am with another chapter. It’s nowhere near the quality of my other chapters, and it’s a great deal shorter, but alas I’ve nothing else to do but submit and await your responses. To make up for my delay, I have a special treat in this chapter ;)

I do hope you guys are still with me! I’d be extremely saddened if you forgot me and gave up on me. So guys, please stay with me! I’ll update a lot more frequently now that the toughest year of High School is over! I love you guys and your support! Enjoy the chapter.

Also thanks to the amazinf DracoGurlFUrever for betaing this chapter!

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Chapter Seven: Of Instinct and Irrationality

Harry lifted his head off the sandy beach. His messy black hair was heavy from the sand. He shook it off him and then blinked at his glasses. When he found that he couldn’t see, he took them off and wiped the lenses haphazardly with his shirt, only to have them get dirtier.

His frustration became insurmountable. He kicked the sand, clenched and unclenched his fists and wanted, very dearly, to scream. Rationality, however, laid its gentle but firm hold on him and he decided, instead, to take a walk to calm himself.

He looked towards the mass of wilderness about him, took a deep breath as if to prepare himself for what was to come, and then began the long trek forward.

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Pansy ran. She didn’t know where she was running. She even forgot why by the time she even realized she was running. She vaguely remembered a feeling of dread, but she hadn’t a clue whether she was running away from or towards something.

During her irrational sprint, Mrs. Norris was gone. It was only when Pansy got tired and decided to stop to rest her thighs and catch her breath did she realize the cat’s absence. She didn’t remember whether she should have felt disappointment or anger. In fact, she wasn’t able to remember a lot of things.

It grew dark by then. The trees overhead blocked the little light that the purple sky emitted. She could barely see past her nose.

She walked a bit further until she heard some heavy breathing. Had she seen Muggle horror movies, she would have felt scared, but since she hadn’t she was only curious and followed the noise instead of running away from it. She reached a small clearing in the bushes and faintly saw the silhouette of something on the ground.

Feeling oddly daring, she approached it, felt around until her fingers brushed over long hair and then glasses. She heard a groan, and then her fingers crossed over something wet. She had a morbid feeling it was blood. Suddenly the world was spinning. She promptly collapsed and passed out on top of the figure on the ground.

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The way in which he shook with rage was both humorous and frightening. He watched them, seething in jealousy. His ears and nose were comically red, but his eyes were so steely and cold that his appearance was menacing. If Hermione saw that look on Ron’s face, she could never have removed the image from her mind. She probably wouldn’t dare to even look at another guy except him.

He watched as Draco left her to speak with his Slytherin friends. He wanted to strangle the blond, or better yet, chop off his lips, tongue, and hands so that he could never touch Hermione again.

But more than being furious with Draco, Ron was furious with Hermione for she had done nothing to stop the blond from kissing and caressing her. When Ron was watching, he had hoped every second that she would kick the slimy bastard in the groin or take out her wand to hex him, but no such thing happened. After he left her standing there against the tree, she did something that surprised Ron and nearly made him lose his balance: she smiled dreamily.

He clenched his fist and stomped off. He had seen enough.

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Blaise snapped his fingers at Draco’s face. He did this twice, and twice received no response. He tried to tell him about their search, but Draco didn’t show any reaction. It seemed that the blond was in a trance.

Again he snapped his fingers, this time calling his name with impatience. Finally, Draco sighed, and turned his head to face his friend.

“What the hell is wrong with you? What world were you in?” Blaise finally snapped. “I’ve been trying to tell you—”

“I heard you, Blaise,” Draco interrupted curtly.

“So why didn’t you say a goddamn thing?”

“There’s nothing to say! There’s nothing to listen to! Did you bring Pansy with you? No. Did you find out anything about her? No. So what’s the point?”

“Well, you made no effort to find her yourself!”

“You didn’t get her,” Draco repeated, his teeth clenched.

“It was dark—”

“You had a wand.”

“And if we got lost? How would we get back?”

“You followed her footprints right? So why don’t you follow your own back here?”

“Oh, that’s smart! You try—”

“Oh, will you two shut up!” Millicent yelled. She had been quietly watching the two bicker until they had gotten on her nerves too much. She was able to tell that Draco was in one of his moods. He was too stubborn to give in. It was better if they just left him alone. “Let’s go, Blaise.” She yanked at the boy and nearly dragged him away. “We’ll see you later, Malfoy,” she called over her shoulder.

“Right,” Draco growled.

Sometime after they left, Draco began to feel guilty for speaking so harshly. But how could he have told them that he had been too busy daydreaming to want to listen to how they nearly got lost?

His thoughts went back to Granger. His body tingled all over again.


Not having kissed her then was torture. But it hadn’t been the right time. It had been too early.


He smirked—

there was always tonight.

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He couldn’t control his anger. There was something about the look in Hermione’s eyes after Malfoy left her that made his blood boil. He knew he was jealous. But he was also angry with himself for feeling jealous of Malfoy. And he was also angry with Hermione for allowing this anger and jealousy—this humiliation—to occur.

He needed to talk with Harry. He needed to vent his frustration and he needed someone who would feel the same way so that both of them could do something about Hermione’s waywardness.

The only problem was that Harry was nowhere to be found.

He asked around and looked in every inch of the camp they were now living in, but to no avail.

When he saw Hermione sitting alone on a pink rock at the side of the beach, he approached her. By then, Ron was frantic in his search. Where could have Harry disappeared to?

“Hermione! Have you…” he paused to catch his breath and then looked her straight in the eyes. “Have you seen…”

He stopped and lowered his gaze down to her lips, thinking back at how she might have kissed Malfoy with them. And who knew for how long it had been going on?

“No wait,” he spat. “Why should I ask you? You’re probably too busy with Malfoy to care!”

Hermione frowned. “What are you talking about?” She remembered what had happened a few hours ago and suddenly felt defensive. “You’re the one who was so childish that you took Malfoy’s pants!”

“Well, I didn’t ask you to get them!” He stomped over to her, and stared solidly and coldly into her eyes, whispering between gritted teeth, “Nor did I ask you to kiss him.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. She jumped off the rock while Ron moved back. “We didn’t kiss!” she yelled at him furiously.

“Don’t lie, Hermione.”

“I’m not lying!”

“Wow, Hermione. I never imagined you’d actually lie to my face.” He clenched his fist and stomped away from her, not allowing her to respond.

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Hermione looked up at the darkening sky. Another day had passed with no improvement of being rescued. She wanted to cry, but by then she knew the futility of crying and so simply walked ahead into the bushes. At that point, after her fight with Ron, she just wanted to relax and stop caring about anything.

She was unaware when or how she reached a small lagoon hidden at what seemed to be the heart of the island. She saw the water sparkling under the setting sun and found it irresistible.

She stripped herself of her clothes. First her shirt, skirt and then, after hesitating, she decided to get rid of her bra and underwear as well.

There was an odd kind of freedom of standing bare in the dark with just nature around her and nothing else. Hermione sighed in this newfound feeling and entered the lagoon, reveling in the feel of the cool water caressing her bare body.

After so many years, Hermione didn’t feel so free and comfortable as she did at that blissful moment. All these years, there was always something that hindered herself from being alone and just relaxing—school, homework to finish 2 weeks before the due-date, stopping Harry from foolishly running off to save the day and actually end up saving the world with him, the threat of Voldemort, and other vital world-saving things.

Finally, today was the day that she decided she would stop worrying. Even though they were all trapped in an island, Harry and Pansy was missing, and there was no way to leave, there was a sort of soothing feeling that enveloped her. She decided to leave everything to fate and allow herself to do whatever her instincts told her.

Today, she would indulge in herself.

She rested her head on a rock and looked up at the dark sky. There were stars ahead, many of them. She felt as though she was the only person for miles around and, oddly enough, she liked it.

She closed her eyes and listened to the silence.

She was so engrossed in this new feeling that she didn’t notice a visitor who came to share these quiet moments with her. He was staring at her, greedily and hungrily. He couldn’t believe his good fortune at stumbling upon Hermione like this and quickly decided to act before it was too late.

He smirked as his sharp eyes caught sight of her clothes lying at the edge of the lake. He walked behind her so she couldn’t see him as he took her clothes in his arms and then decided to rid her of her misconception that she was alone. He quietly lowered his mouth to her ear, blew in it gently, and said, “Hullo, my pet.”

It was enough to send her spiraling out of her reverie and jumping into the air while turning around to see him.

He tilted his head and winked at her, making her shiver immediately. The shivering led her nipples to become hard, which in turn made her arms wrap themselves tightly around her exposed bosom. She sank deep into the water. Her cheeks were flushed red, and she couldn’t look Draco in the eye from embarrassment.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered, looking at the water surrounding her, not wanting to look at him. She just refused to acknowledge that she was actually naked in the water with Malfoy, of all people!

But her voice wasn’t angry, just breathless, and Draco smirked upon listening to her plea. She seemed so vulnerable, and the situation made him tingle with pleasure.

“Watching you, Granger,” he replied.

She immediately snapped her eyes upwards to look at him. She was defiant once again. Draco didn’t know which he liked more, a vulnerable Hermione or a fiery one.

“Well, you could stop watching me and get the hell out of here. I’d like to bathe in privacy.”

“Alright, then. As you wish.” He held her clothes in his arms tightly; she hadn’t noticed that he had them when he greeted her. He began to walk away, counting to five as he did so. He knew she would be screaming at the top of her lungs when she glanced back at him to notice her bra dangling over his shoulder.

And that was precisely what happened.


“MALFOY! Get back here this instant!” She had her arms crossed around her naked chest, her wet, unruly hair was stuck to her forehead, and yet, humorous as the situation was, she would have frightened anyone—except for Draco, of course.

“Your wish is my command.” He winked at her, dropped her clothes onto the floor, and proceeded to rid himself of his pants and unbuttoned shirt as well, while a flabbergasted Hermione looked on wordlessly.

The sun was nearly gone, except for a few golden rays that danced upon his pale skin. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him and she felt her heart flutter. Her mind was still too slow to grasp what was happening; she felt disoriented.

It was only when he joined her in the water that Hermione realized what had happened. She sank lower into the water so that only her eyes and nose showed. He was only a few feet away, but she could feel his presence, drawing her in like a defenseless fish in a net.

She wanted to get away, but she couldn’t get back her clothes—that would mean emerging from the water and she would not, in any case, do that! But she couldn’t stay here with a naked, sexy, wet Draco Malfoy in the very same pool she was bathing in, either!

This had to be a dream, she concluded, or Malfoy’s trick.

“What are you doing?” she asked, horrified. She was shocked. She didn’t know whether to be happy if this turned out to be a dream, or sad.

“You told me to come to you, remember? I think you’re losing it,” he told her smoothly.

How could he be so calm? she thought furiously.

“That doesn’t mean you’ll be stripping and joining me here? Are you insane? Give me back my clothes right now! This is not funny!” She turned her back to him.

“Relax, Hermione. I’m not going to hurt you. Besides, if you want it so badly, I’ll get up and give you back your clothes, okay? Will you feel better then?”

She was shocked by his words. Did Malfoy really mean it? He would just leave…without a fight?

She turned around to look back at him. “Are you serious?’ she asked, bewildered. She searched his face for any clue that would prove to her that he was lying to her or tricking her, but his face was blank, and she couldn’t read his cool, gray eyes, either.

“Sure I am.” He swam closer to her and she turned her back to him quickly in fear and embarrassment. “But, of course, you don’t want me to leave, right?” he breathed in her ear.

She hadn’t even noticed when he had gotten this close to her but as soon as she did, the hairs on her neck stood on end. Her whole body was shivering, tingling, all the way down to her toes. She closed her eyes and drew her arms around her tighter.

“Relax,” he told her, his lips grazing over her earlobe. He put a hand on her waist, his palm flat against her skin. She gasped at the sensation while he pulled her closer to him. She moaned as she felt his cool, moist lips on her neck. It felt better than it had done earlier that day. The water and the solitude heightened her senses and she had never felt more alive.

“Draco, stop it,” she whispered halfheartedly. A voice in her mind was gnawing at her, telling her how wrong their actions were, but another side of her loved the feeling. She loved the solitude, the water, and the pure nature surrounding them. It was just the two of them and nature: the way it should be. Without civilization’s prejudice, rationality, and responsibility.

It was human instinct at its primal state and she was craving more of it …more of him.

But he listened to her words, and immediately distanced himself from her - but not before planting a solid kiss along the side of her mouth that made her lips pine for more.

He rose from the water and stepped onto the muddy ground, picking up his boxers. He put them on and then glanced back at Hermione who was lost in her thoughts. He picked up her clothes and dangled them in front of her face. She looked up and took them silently from his hands, while he turned around so she could put them on in peace.

He was just about to walk away, when he noticed that he had accidentally given Hermione his pants. When he was sure that she was finished putting on her clothes, he turned around to look at her. She was squeezing her hair free of excess water and her clothes were all put on haphazardly. Perhaps her haste to put on her clothes before he turned around had made her put the buttons on all wrong. He couldn’t help but laugh.

“What are you laughing about?” she asked curtly, her hands immediately and instinctively resting on her hips.

“Your buttons…they’re all wrong.”

She frowned down at her shirt. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. “Well, you didn’t need to laugh about it!” she told him, crossing her arms across her chest.


“Hermione, where are you?”

“Oh no! Someone’s coming!” Hermione looked around frantically, trying to see where the voices were coming from. They were female voices and they were close.

Hermione glanced at a perplexed Draco Malfoy in his boxers. “Malfoy, you need to hide!” Before he even had a chance to ask where, she did what first came into her mind: she pushed him into the water. “And don’t show yourself!” she hissed.

It was just in time, too, for Lavender and Parvati appeared right then.

“Oh, there you are!” Lavender sighed. “We were looking all over for you!”

“What was that noise? It sounded like a splash.” Parvati said suspiciously, furrowing her brows.

“It was my uh…” she looked around, trying to think of what to say next. “My shoe!” she yelled when she noticed she wasn’t wearing one of them.

“Oh,” Parvati said, not completely buying it.

“Oh my god, you’re so wet. And look at those buttons! What have you been doing?” Lavender exclaimed.

“No-nothing.” Hermione stuttered. “Just bathing. I wanted to go somewhere private.”

“Well, if you’re finished come back to camp. Everyone’s looking for you and Malfoy.”

“But why?” Hermione asked, half-listening. She glanced back at the pool for a split second to see if Malfoy could be seen. Parvati frowned at her, but Lavender didn’t notice.

“We don’t know why. We were walking along the beach when Neville told us to look for you because someone found someone or whatever. Everyone’s looking for Malfoy, especially. I guess we should have asked, eh?” Lavender began giggling.

“Okay, guys. I’ll be there in a minute. I’ll just go get my…uh shoe.”

“Alright. But come quick. And if you see Malfoy, tell him to come too.”

“Mhmm,” she said, shooing them away. “I’ll be just back in a second.”

As soon as she was sure that the two of them were gone, she rubbed her forehead and looked down. She tilted her head and frowned at what she saw on the ground. It was Malfoy’s pants. Hermione sighed in relief; thank God Parvati and Lavender were too daft to notice.

She raised her eyes to look back at where Lavender and Parvati were standing just seconds before, and saw a pair of eyes looking right back at her. She froze.

It was Ron.

He looked back at the pants on the ground, then back at her. His blue eyes were dark, almost opaque, and furious with rage. Behind her, Draco, thinking that the girls were gone, raised his head to take a peak. Unfortunately, Ron noticed.

“Nice shoe, Hermione,” he spat. He shot them glares and walked off without another word.

“What was all that about?” Draco asked, walking towards Hermione.

She shrugged, still looking at the spot where Ron had caught them. Draco squeezed her shoulders and she leaned back against him, suddenly feeling very tired.

“We should get back. They said that they had found someone, right?”

Hermione nodded her head in response.

“Maybe it’s Pansy,” he whispered.

“Or Harry.”

They looked at each other, not knowing whether to feel excited. What they were thinking might not be true, and they didn’t want to be heartbroken if it wasn’t.

“Come on, let’s go.” Draco said, tugging her hand.

“Okay, but grab your pants first.” She managed to smile at him, despite the events that had dampened their mood and he did too, albeit reluctantly.

“And you fix those buttons,” he told her, smirking because he had something to hang over her head.

She pouted her lips and frowned at him and then they burst out laughing.

They were laughing because they didn’t know which was more ridiculous: Hermione’s pouting lips and mixed up buttons, or the whole situation from her private bath to Ron’s glares. The whole situation was something that neither of them had ever thought would happen, and now here they were, prejudices aside, talking, kissing, laughing, worrying, and crying together.

It was absurd, unreasonable, ludicrous, crazy…and whatever other similar adjectives there are.

And the even more absurd, unreasonable, ludicrous, crazy thing was that the two of them didn’t mind at all.

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Chapter 8: Of Anxiety and Anticipation
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By Queen of Serpents

Disclaimer: The story is loosely based on the theme of Lord of the Flies by William Golding. I am fortunate to be able to use the characters of Harry Potter but alas I do not own them.

Author's Note: Well, I supposed I lied when I wrote in my previous chapter that I would update more frequently. I’m ashamed to say that’s its been a year. I really don’t have a valid excuse either. Real life just got in the way, I’m afraid. I’m so sorry. I just wanted to let you all know that I wont ever abandon this. I’ll not take another year, though. That was my fault and I deeply apologize. I hope a few of you still stuck around.

Remember to visit my website to probe me about my stories. I’ll let you know about the status of updates and I’ll also give out little previews of the next chapters there.

By the way, I previously thought I would finish this story by the 10th chapter. I’m not sure if that will happen, but we’ll see. )


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Chapter Eight: Of Anxiety and Anticipation

They left together towards camp, laughing, hoping, and holding hands. They didn’t notice how uncharacteristic this behavior was. It felt natural and why question something that felt so instinctively right?

Above, the sky was getting darker. The clouds congregated and decided to make rain.

They stumbled to get back. Anticipation ran through their veins.

Why were people looking for them? What did they find? Was it Harry? Pansy? Or better yet, did they find a way to get back home?

Hermione’s mood was so light and giddy that she forgot Ron’s angry, hurt face. She squeezed Draco’s hand. He looked down at her and winked, flashing her a dashing smile.

But wait.

Was it a smile or a smirk?

Hermione released his hand as if burned. She furrowed her brows, refused to answer his questioning eyes, and hurried her pace. She looked straight ahead, trying to clear her muddled, frazzled mind.

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Pansy woke up to the sound of flies incessantly buzzing in her ears. She wrinkled her nose.

“God! What is that smell?” she yelled, covering her nose.

She opened her eyes slowly and pried her sticky hair away from her face. She noticed they were slightly wet and dried in some places. She sat up. It was still dark. She couldn’t see but she knew that there was blood on her fingertips.

She felt a person’s body as she scrambled up. She stopped moving and tried to look at the figure lying underneath her. Who was it?

“Hello? Hello, wake up!” She shook the figure frantically. It was cold and stiff under her touch.

Was the person dead?

Realization hit her and she quickly stood up straighter, horrified. A hand covered her mouth but didn’t mute the scream that echoed from her lips.

Raindrops fell on top of her cheeks and nose. One. Two. Then dozens. There was lightening, then a clap of thunder.

From the quick flash of light, she saw the familiar face of the dead body. The figure was her D.A.D.A. professor.

She screamed again, this time louder and in anguish.

Then she ran. Puddles splashed under her feet. Her tears blurred with the water from the rain.

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Draco frowned at Hermione’s sudden change of behavior. He felt the emptiness in his hands and tried to search her face for answers but she avoided his eyes.

“Granger?” he called out to her as he watched her pick up her pace. Confused and curious, he hurried behind her. “Hermione!” He caught up to her by then and grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards him when she stopped in her tracks.

“We have to go,” she told him stiffly, trying to pry her hand away from his grip. Her voice was low and pained. It sounded as if there was a quiet battle raging inside her mind. She still avoided his eyes.

He called out her name again. This time, he said it softly, in a smooth sultry voice. He pulled her towards him, turning her around to look into her warm, honey eyes. He sighed and leaned closer to her. “What’s wrong?”

She drew away from him and took a few steps back. She winced when her back hit a tree and looked away from his piercing gray eyes. “Nothing,” she mumbled.

He came closer yet again and cupped her chin, raising her face to lock her eyes with his. His thumb rubbed her jaw line smoothly. His body pressed against her and she took a quick intake of breath.

“It can’t be nothing,” he replied smoothly. His hand slipped up her wrist and around her waist. He saw her eyes dart away from his and then chuckled with newfound understanding. “You’re afraid,” he stated.

Hermione quickly raised her eyes to look at him darkly. “I’m not afraid.” She pried his hand away from his face and crossed her arms across her chest. “Least of all, of you, Malfoy.” Her voice sounded defiant but he knew better than to believe it.

When he raised his eyebrow and smirked, she sighed. “They’re calling us,” she explained. “We should get back.”

“If it really was important, don’t you think Brown or Parvati or even Weasel would’ve known too and told you?”

“Well they didn’t know…maybe it was something that had to be said in a group.” But Hermione doubted her own words before she even finished her sentence. If it was that important, they would’ve known by then.

“They know they have to blow the conch in case of emergencies,” Draco reminded her.

Hermione sighed; he was right. “Well we should still go. Its getting dark and…” she felt a raindrop land on her cheek, “…and its going to pour really badly.”

But Draco was in no hurry to leave so quickly. His thoughts about Pansy and being rescued were shoved aside. He remembered the feel of the soft wetness of her skin beneath his lips. He saw her body flush, her cheeks were red and she licked her lips. He watched her, his desire to kiss her growing stronger by the second. He wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass.

He had a feeling whatever waited for them back at camp would change everything and before it did he was going kiss her and hold her in his arms like there was no tomorrow. There was something about this island that made things like blood and heritage seem trivial. Right now they belonged to this island, where rules and prejudices didn’t exist. He didn’t care who she was and who her family and friends were. His body wanted her and that was all that mattered to him.

And he knew she wanted him too. Her hesitance only meant that she was fighting against her instincts, too. But on this island, he understood that instinct was more significant than the mind.

Draco smirked at her and swiftly closed the distance between them again. “There’s no rush,” he purred into her ear. Her hands uncrossed themselves and fell limply at her sides. He drew her body flush against his own. He heard her blood thump loudly throughout her body. Her chest rose and fell in quick succession against his chest.

He loved the feeling of her soft, warm body in the circle of his arms. His hands traveled lightly and gently under her wet shirt. His lips tugged at her earlobe. He knew it was a sensitive part of her body. She titled her head to the side and his lips grazed her neck, teasing her, not quite touching it but leaving goosebumps on her skin.

He was trying so hard to control himself. The logical part in his mind wanted her to tell him to stop, so they could go back to hating each other and being normal. His desire to have her was messing up with his mind. He knew he was acting differently ever since he saved her from drowning and he knew he needed to stop before he lost his identity.

But she didn’t ask him to stop. She just whimpered under his feathery light caresses.

And when she whispered his name in encouragement, he lost it.

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Ron paced back and forth by the lagoon. The air was thick with tension. He couldn’t draw the image of Hermione and Malfoy bathing together. It was just too much for him.

He clenched his fists and was reaching his boiling point. If he saw them together one more time, he swore he would lose it!

“What’s taking them so long?” Parvati mused aloud. Ron sneered at her and she frowned at him. “What’s wrong with him?” she whispered to Lavender who just shrugged her shoulders.

“Blow the conch!” Anthony suggested. There were mutterings of approval. Ron simply shrugged and pointed to the conch which lay on the platform where Harry and Malfoy gave out their speeches.

Hannah took it and handed it to her boyfriend who stared at it, wondering how the bloody thing made noise. He tried blowing into it until his face turned pink. Fred and George howled with laughter.

“Why don’t you try it?” Anthony hissed, throwing the conch at the twins.

Fred stared at George who shrugged and tried blowing into it. There was a faint sound but nothing like the booming noise that came when Malfoy did it. How were they supposed to use this blasted thing for emergencies when no one knew how to make it work!

Fred grabbed the conch from his brother and tried to blow on it. This time it worked, the sound echoing through the air. He grinned in pleasure and Anthony was muttering envious profanities under his breath.

“Shh!“ Seamus cried, suddenly. “I see them coming!”

Everyone stopped bickering and looked in the direction Seamus was pointing. They held their breaths in anticipation.

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One touch of his lips on her flesh and Hermione forgot how to think.

He drew his face back from her and stared darkly into her eyes with such indescribable passion that made Hermione’s knees quiver and her legs feel like jelly. His hand on the small of her back pushed her ever closer to his body while his face descended.

He kissed her then, first slow and then fervently. She sighed into his mouth, loving the feel of his lips. She wanted this for so long.

Hermione’s hands traveled up his chest and around his neck, securing herself from falling. Her legs felt like jelly and her body was on fire. She moaned into his intoxicating mouth as their tongues met slowly and erotically.

Above, there was lightening, then thunder. Rain poured and drenched them but the water didn’t douse their fiery kiss. They were locked inside each other’s embrace, not thinking, not wanting to think. His hands traveled along the sides of her body, making her shiver pleasurably. Her clothes became wet from the rain and she should’ve felt cold but the heat from his body was enough for her. She didn’t want to ever let go.

It didn’t make sense. Their relationship didn’t make sense. Yet she didn’t care. Her instincts told her it was okay. Things that felt right didn’t necessarily need to add up mathematically. Sometimes things done in impulse were greater than things done logically.

They drew back for air and stared at each other, panting heavily. Hermione closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his chest. She drew in his scent, sandalwood and autumn leaves with a dash of expensive cologne. She drew small circles around his abdomen with her thumb. His transparent shirt just made his skin glow underneath.

She smiled and he held her in his arms, kissing her softly, almost tenderly now. His behavior was uncharacteristic but Hermione wanted to stretch out this moment for as long as she could. It just felt so good, so right!

Suddenly they heard a loud booming noise that made her pry her lips away from his mouth. Her heart pounded furiously in shock.

The conch! They were calling them!

As her breathing steadied itself, Hermione’s mind was racing to regulate itself. She noticed how the rain was pouring harder than ever, drenching her body. Now the others were looking for them, calling them. It was something serious. An emergency perhaps?

She remembered that Harry was missing. A deep feeling of dread landed in the pit of her stomach. Something told her something wasn’t right.

She pulled away from the circle of Draco’s arms and shivered as the cold assaulted her body. “We have to go back,” she told him as she hugged herself and rubbed her shoulders.

She noticed that Draco still had his eyes closed. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and she knew that he was trying to calm himself. She blushed at the thought that her kiss caused that sort of effect on him.

He opened his eyes slowly and nodded. His eyes were worried and serious. She knew he felt the tension in the air, too. Something wasn’t right.

He wordlessly took her hand and they rushed back to camp, running. Puddles splashed under their feet.

She didn’t know what to expect when they got back. She just prayed it wasn’t anything bad.

Her heart felt heavy with anxiety.

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There was a figure in the dark, lying on the ground. Everyone hesitantly circled around it but most people were too scared to look closely. It was raining harshly. Darkness clouded the sky and every now and then there would be a loud clap of thunder that made everyone startle with fright.

Draco’s jaw was set tightly and he clenched his fists, wondering what was wrong. He remembered what Parvati and Brown had said. How everyone was looking for them, especially him.

He wondered who the figure was.

There were gasps when the figure became more visible due to the lightening. There were screams.

Hermione drew away from Draco’s arms and walked towards the body lying on the ground. Draco followed her, hesitantly. His wand was raised and lit and he clenched it so tightly, his nails were digging into his flesh. He drew in a deep breath. When he reached the body, he bent to look more closely.

He shivered when he saw the blood covered face. He noticed Hermione screaming and falling to her knees. His own stomach clenched and his knees quivered. He felt sick.

“It’s the Professor,” Blaise said. His voice was grave. “We thought we heard someone screaming in the jungle. Millicent and I went hunting to see who it was.”

“It sounded like Pansy,” Millicent said. Draco shuddered. “We told everyone that we probably found someone and asked for everyone to gather around.”

“When we got there, we found the Professor lying there on the ground. There was blood everywhere and it was raining hard too,” Blaise added solemnly.

“Where’s Pansy?” Draco asked quietly. He turned the light of his wand off. He couldn’t bear to see their Professor’s bloody face.

“We don’t know. We found what seemed to be an extra pair of footprints. We suspect it’s hers but when we got there we didn’t see her. The rain washed away most of her trail so we couldn’t follow it.”

Lightening flashed again to illuminate the body. There were a few gasps. Some people drew back, terrified. There were sobs and heavy breathing. Tears and rain mingled on people’s cheeks. Despair rained down on them and they all felt incredibly doomed and forsaken.

The Professor was dead. There was blood all over her. How did she die? Was it due to the crash? But she was in the middle of the island…how would she crash and land there? Did someone – he gulped at the thought – kill her?

Harry and Pansy were still missing.

What if their fate was similar?

Draco shuddered at the thought.

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