PROMISES Chapter 10
Chapter 10 : Sailing Between Clouds
Draco Malfoy stared thoughtfully at the decrepit thatched cottage. It was the only inn at the bottom of the mountain. He wasn't afraid of its appearance-when you're a wizard you learn to not judge a book by its cover. He slipped the portkey into his pocket and walked towards the inn. Despite the summer season, the wind was cool and the sky was covered by dark clouds. He pushed open the entrance door in an authoritarian movement and quickly walked inside.
The lobby was a luxurious room, decorated with marble sculptures and subtly embroidered tapestries. To Draco's satisfaction, every customer turned to look at him as he entered. He raised his chin and waited until a woman came to greet him. She was plump and blonde with bright yellow eyes and a hooked nose.
"Welcome to Homers' Agency Mister..."
"Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," he said as he presented his ticket.
She leafed through a red booklet, stopped at the last page and looked back at him with a graceful smile.
"Mister Malfoy, please follow me, we have been waiting for you."
She led him back through the front door, and instead of finding trees and mountains, Draco found himself in front of a chain bridge surrounded by a heavy fog. He looked below him, but couldn't see anything but enormous vaporous clouds. He looked back at the hostess who gave him a reassuring smile.
"You mustn't straggle, the boat is about to leave. You're the last passenger."
He nodded, held the railing firmly, and started to walk on the bridge. A strange sound was coming from afar while he was advancing. He turned back to the inn, but it had disappeared behind the fog, so he continued his walk, distinguishing the sound of a crowd through the mass of clouds.
A violent wind suddenly hit his face, forcing him to close his eyes. When he opened them, he saw something he had never seen in his life: a floating port of flying boats. Two huge winged ships were hovering in the air while another one was arriving from the horizon.
Once his things were settled in his cabin, Draco went on the deck to admire the view, but to his surprise the heavy fog was still surrounding the boat, almost like a shield.
"Clouds are released at nightfall," said a voice behind him. "They're produced to hide the boat from muggles and the magical authorities."
Draco glanced over his shoulder to see who was speaking and saw a red bearded man dressed with a dirty fur cloak. Draco conversed with him, and learned that he was a hippogriff hunter leaving England because he transgressed the Magical Creature Protection Law, and was now wanted by aurors. His name was Raebert McGregor, and he'd lost a leg when he was a dragon-egg trafficker.
It was clear that this man was desperate to talk to someone, to tell his life story and the reason for his exile, but Draco's thoughts were directed toward Hermione. The young man was wondering for the umpteenth time when she would decide to join him on board, forgetting the consuming discomfort that he felt whenever she was with him. He never noticed how she'd become his unique preoccupation. On one hand, he couldn't concentrate on anything because she was always with him, whether or not she was there physically. On the other hand, to be the one she needed, the only one who could assure her that she was still alive, made him feel like a he was special.
It had been decided that Draco would take a ship with Homers' Agency-which specialized in clandestine travelling- while Hermione would spy on her friends to learn what they knew about Draco's research. Her mission wasn't much of a success since every time she went to Harry and Ron's home, Luna was there. She knew that would happen, she had expected them to date each other officially for a long time. What she hadn't expected was the green monster of jealousy crying inside her chest.
'If I hadn't disappeared, I would be in Luna's place', thought Hermione as she reached the flying boat late at night.
Draco was sitting next to a stranger under the highest mast. They were in an animated discussion, like the rest of people staying on the deck. Hermione approached them, just enough to be seen. When Draco noticed her presence a few minutes later, he said goodbye to his interlocutor and joined her with a bottle of wine in his hands.
"My, Granger, you look awful. Did Potter suffocate while brushing his teeth with the scratchy paste?"
"That wasn't funny to see Malfoy. Fortunately, I always keep a bezoar in the cupboard... "
"So why do you look like a useless house elf?"
She didn't answer his question. Her eyes were fixed on him but she seemed to be miles away, in a place where her life hadn't stopped following such a peaceful path.
He took a long gulp of wine and came closer.
"Open your mouth."
"What?"
"Open your mouth," he repeated, lifting the bottle.
"Oh, no... I won't... I don't drink."
"Come on Granger. It's not surprising that Weasel dumped you for that Loony. You're so uptight..." He stopped in his track as he saw her eyes widen and shine with tears. She opened her mouth to make a retort, but the image of Ron taking Luna into his bedroom seemed to strangle her, taking her guts and making her want to break everything. She grabbed Draco's hand which was holding the bottle, and tilted it to her lips, taking a long gulp of wine.
It was like an explosion of fireworks: the bittersweet taste, the fruity smell, the freshness before the heat in her stomach, the want for more-to feel plainly alive again... Never before had any wine been so delicious to drink... After three more bottles came the euphoria, and then the dizziness...
They were inside his cabin, sitting on his bed with a bottle of Harpy Champagne.
"How dyaaa, how do you know 'bout Ron 'n' Loona?
"I... Err... Can't rem'ber."
"Useless git."
"Dirty mudblood."
Hermione got to her feet immediately.
"Apolochhhize!" she exclaimed, her arms crossed over her chest, trying to look severe.
At first Draco's face showed utter surprise, but it quickly turned into a sneer. He lifted his bottle of Harpy Champagne and took a long swig just as Hermione slugged him in the chest, making him choke. After some violent and painful coughs, Draco stood up too.
"You nearly killed me!" He screamed angrily.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I fff'got how you can be so la-de-da. Squeamissshhh jerk!"
Draco pointed his wand in her direction, but remembering that it was useless he pushed her hard to the floor.
However, Hermione held on to his shirt as she fell, and too drunk to resist, Draco fell on top of her with all of his weight. In a labored movement, the witch rolled him over and pinned his body against the ground. Without even thinking about what she was doing, she sent a violent slap right to his jaw.
"Aaargh! Bitch!" he groaned.
Before she could slap him again, he caught her wrists and rolled them over once again, so that he was the one on top. His body was surprisingly heavy-so heavy that Hermione wasn't able to move. His grip was so tight that she was sure it would leave marks on her wrists. She tried to struggle, but nothing was any good. Out of breath, she sent him a vehement look that made him smirk.
The wizard tried to respond by giving her his most vicious look, but she seemed to be totally impermeable.
The fear of being hit again prevented him from letting her go.
Slowly, he bent his face to hers, his chest brushing her breasts, and perceived a change of rhythm in the beating of her heart. That's when Hermione realized that she'd never been so close to him. Here, she could see that his eyes were less bright when he was drunk, that his mouth was thin and well designed, and that it would be strangely fine to kiss him. Was he going to kiss her? Would she reject him? Could she just let herself go, and blame it on the alcohol tomorrow? How would it feel to let it just happen?
Hermione never got her answers, as he stopped in his tracks, his nose almost touching hers.
"Nothing can scare you?" He asked in a low voice, the acrid smell of alcohol liberated by his mouth stinging her nose.
A wicked smile crossed Hermione's lips, but she was quite disappointed inside."You expect me to reveal my weaknesses?" There was something sensual in the way she spoke and displayed her pride.
Draco suddenly released his grip and got to his feet.
Hermione straightened her body, leaning on her elbows, and watched the wizard walk around the room. He kicked the bottle of champagne, then stumbled on it, making Hermione grin like a Cheshire cat. "What's useful about being too big for your boots when you don't even know how to walk?"
"Watch your mouth Granger..." He snapped before collapsing on the bed.
Hermione didn't want him to fall asleep, because she realized she was having fun.
"I... I'm scared of flying," she finally admitted.
"Are you kidding?" Draco scowled into his pillow.
"No, I'm afraid of heights. And I don't trust a simple piece of wood to carry me in the air," she explained with more confidence. Good, he was taking the bait.
"A simple piece of wood? You muggles..." Draco growled and walked over to his bag, out of which he took his broomstick. "C'mon."
He grabbed her hands and forcefully led her outside the cabin. Once they arrived on the deck, he mounted the broomstick and told Hermione to ride behind him.
"Hold me tight around my waist," he added.
She was scared, and she kept on stumbling over her words."But I, I can't... I see two brooms!"
Draco didn't seem to be in a better state. She finally held his waist and sat on the broomstick. He kicked up, propelling them backward and making them ridiculously fall to the floor. The wizard was seriously pissed off and cursed under his breath while he tried to get back on his broom. Hermione_who stayed on the floor_watched him with amusement. Not only did his bibulous face withdraw any credibility he could have had, but he was also sitting the wrong way on the broom.
At this point, the witch burst out laughing. Draco stared at her in surprise. Perhaps he was still too drunk, perhaps it was just nerves, but little by little he joined Hermione in her hysterics. Soon, they had to lie on the ground to breathe properly. After some more difficult chuckles, Hermione sighed deeply and looked up at the sky.
Draco felt light. He inwardly wished that the effects of alcohol would never vanish, so that he could be free to kiss her. That thought shook him. No, he couldn't. He wouldn't. He suddenly sat up, as though someone had stung him. What was wrong with him?
"What?" Asked the witch.
"I'm getting my clothes dirty..."
"And you dare say that I'm uptight? Relaaax... "
Draco considered her for a moment. This girl confused him so much... but he had to keep in his mind that she was still Hermione Granger, she was nothing other than a mudblood and a bossy know-it-all.
He finally lied back down on the floor and joined the witch in her inebriated contemplation of the night sky.
"Can you be that high in the sky when you fly?" she asked in a murmur. "When my life is back to normal, I'll take lessons, so I can fly near the moon."
When her life will be back to normal... Draco simply stared at her. Something was touching him in Hermione's genuine features. It made him... Let' see, what was he exactly feeling…? It was her expression, maybe? Or was it because of what she said? He couldn't understand it... the sensation had been too fleeting. She actually seemed serene and joyful for the first time since he met her at Borgin and Burkes. He turned his head back to the sky, thinking of the night, and how the smile of Hermione Granger competed with the beauty of the moon.
She couldn't really remember how she ended up there, but there she was, lying next to Draco Malfoy on the ship's deck and facing the stormy sky. Draco was sleeping. It seems that he had had a last moment of lucidity before they had fallen asleep, for a blanket was covering their bodies from the coldness of the night. For some reason, she was amused by the oddness of the situation. This sudden intimacy was almost... seductive.
A ray of sunlight passed through the heavy clouds,lightening Draco's features, and she wished she could take a photograph. But no, this picture would only exist in her head: his disheveled hair, his hard expression contrasting with the angelic features of his face, the way he looked like a mischievous child.
A weak smile crossed her lips as he lifted an eyebrow in his sleep. She had observed over their time together that Draco did that when he found something silly. She turned around to have a better vision of his face, her head resting on her arm, amused by her ability to decipher all his attitudes now...
She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't noticed that he was waking up. His sleepy eyes fell on Hermione. They seemed, with the stormy sky reflecting in them, to be made of iron.
"I know I'm attractive, but stop staring at me that way; it's kind of creepy," he said in a tired voice.
Hermione blushed and turned her head toward the sky.
"I… I was just lost in my thoughts..."
Time passed, and neither of them spoke nor moved.
"When I look back," Hermione finally started, "I think that life is short. Too short. You may be the only person I'll talk to for the rest of my life. I only exist because you don't ignore me."
Draco let out a huff of a laugh.
"It's true," Hermione insisted. "I may not belong to this world anymore. Maybe, I don't know, you're dreaming, or I'm haunting you or..."
"I hope not. I'm already fed up with you. I still don't get why we didn't kill each other."
Hermione lifted her eyebrows, and gave him a playful tap on his elbow.
Draco faced her and smiled, frankly, for the first time. A surprising moment of content settled between them.
"Tell me, what did we do last night?" asked Hermione softly. "I'm stiff and I can't exactly recall what happened."
"We drank, fought, and tried to fly on my broom," he responded as he crossed his arms behind his head.
"We tried to fly...? Did I actually ride with you? How... strange."
Draco nodded. "I was too intoxicated to take off, though."
Yes, things were quite strange, but none of them was sure whether or not they were unpleasant.
A sailor passed in front of them and Draco asked him for the time.
"Six a clock."
"Only six?"
"... In the evening sir."
"... "
The sun was setting, marking the end of a long day of travel. Draco had only seen the time pass through Hermione, in the unchanging reflection of her curly brown hair, and in his growing desire to pass his finger through it.
The boat landed on a deserted cliff, dominating a white sand beach and eroded by the turquoise sea. The boat didn't wait long to fly back to the sky and disappear behind the clouds. How good it felt for Draco to walk on an unmoving and solid floor again. Hermione had told him that she would be waiting for him on the beach. He went across the crowd, scrutinizing the area, until he caught sight of a familiar silhouette in the distance.
Draco apparated to the bottom of the cliff. The salty wind was scratching his face and burning his eyes, but he didn't care.
"Hermione..." he called. She detached her eyes from the infinity of the Black Sea to look at him, beaming.
He approached the girl until they stood shoulder to shoulder, the whistling of the air in their ears, and this salty smell in their nostril which made them want to breathe at the deep of their lungs.
"Isn't it beautiful?" the witch asked.
His grey eyes fell to hers, almost inebriated by the freedom symbolized by the sea in front of them.
Something had definitely changed. It had been a slow evolution, such a progressive change that Draco didn't realize it until it was too late. But now that he did realize it, he looked back and saw that it was a foregone conclusion.
As a Malfoy, Draco didn't like changes… and he was not sure how to appreciate such a big one.