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A cruise ship under the moonlight is not nearly as magical as it should be. There's something about the lack of flair, the lack of beauty inherent in the vast floating bathtub which renders the experience of sailing across a silver sea more tepid than it would be on virtually any other craft. Still, moonlight is moonlight, and it's still beautiful to behold, no matter the deck it's observed from, the ocean spreading from horizon to horizon as a sheet of silver foil.
Hermione Granger, she who can never relax for a single second unless made to, drifts through the crowds filling the corridors and public spaces of the gargantuan cruise liner, making for the deck. She's here for business, not pleasure. Here to investigate a source of strange magic in the Bahamas, but Kingsley Shacklebolt, knowing what she is like, has been sending regular owls to remind her to take advantage of the amenities. His latest missive ended with 'That's an order, Miss Granger,' so off she is popping, out to stretch her legs and fill her lungs with bracing sea air.
"Dear, the man said we might be able to glimpse sea turtles swimming about beneath us. And flying fish."
"Mmm! Hopefully we'll see dolphins too."
"Dolphins, but no sea monsters."
"Hahaha!"
Such are snippets of the conversations Hermione overhears as she makes her way through the crowd towards the lookout point near the bow. Images from Titanic sail through her head as she approaches the point where the two sides of the great floating beast converge. Too bad Ronald Weasley disappointed her one too many times, not that she's the type to cornily recreate a scene from a sappy film, and he would make fun of her for it anyway, or be impatient, even if she could get him to understand what she's wanting.
"Aaah." she sighs, the cold breeze sweeping off the ocean cooling her neck. The inside of her cabin has been sickly hot thanks to a woman down the corridor complaining about freezing. A couple of other people stand at the railings nearby, enjoying the slow but actually fast moving waters passing on by and pointing out to each other the things they see, or think they see in it.
"Is that a jellyfish?"
Choosing a free spot near but not beside her next closest neighbour, Hermione at first stands all prim and proper by the railing, and then says screw it and leans her arms on it.
"Aah," she sighs again, closing her eyes and drinking deep of the salt sea breeze. The moon is climbing up the sky, smooth yet laborious, seemingly hand over hand, like a rope climber. She watches it for a while, and then begins patting herself down, looking for a sneaky smoke. However, when she does find her packet of cigs, she finds she's misplaced her lighter, and even worse, can't perform a quick accio in front of all the muggles taking the cruise with her. "Oh no."
"Here. Let me, Miss." A deep voice comes to her rescue. Deep and smooth and slightly bitter, like dark chocolate. With it arrives a lighter, a rose gold zippo carved with a red peony. Automatically, Hermione moves towards the flame, dipping the soft and flammable end of her cigarette into it.
"Thank you ever so much," Looking up, she finds herself gazing into the attractively weathered face of the voice's owner. It's then she notices his Monte Carlo Playboy clothing. All three facets of the man are incredibly attractive to her. Plus, he smiles, and wields his lighter with the ease of long practise and zero shame.
"No problem. I'm always happy to come to the rescue of gorgeous ladies." says the stranger, in his intoxicating voice, his smirk another delightful part of the parcel. Oh, and he's Japanese, or at least part Japanese. Hermione almost didn't notice in the rush to appreciate his extreme attraction factor.
Gorgeous? When was the last time a man called her gorgeous? Not for a long time. Or, at least, not for a long time from a man she found good looking. And not with such ease, a confidence which is in itself highly attractive. Not one for holiday flings or anything like that, she smiles and unleashes her curiosity, but doesn't lean closer.
"You don't look like the rest of the passengers." She says, meaning the elderly and those who somehow imagine they can find peace and quiet on a ship full of thousands of people intent on drinking and gaming themselves into happiness.
"Yeah, I wouldn't have got on this floating casino of my own volition, but my kids ganged up on me and sent me off. They think I don't know that they're planning on renovating my store while I'm away. Still, I'll take the time off." The man takes another drag of his cigarette and jets the smoke out across the ocean.
From there Hermione of course has to ask about his children and his store, and both those avenues of questioning bring up even more paths of inquiry, and before they know it they are sitting at a bar late into the night and early into the morning, talking about everything from Shakespeare to Soccer.
And then the liner hits a submerged spur of coral, tearing its belly open and spilling it's guts. Hermione and her new, suave friend are still speaking together over drinks when a watery earthquake shakes them off their stools, dumping their drinks on top of them.
"Wha?" yelps the witch.
Mr Sojiro Sakura, as he introduced himself, grabs her arm and yanks her up as gently as he can. "Come! That was a bad one."
"But, my bag?!" Tossing her head back towards the cabins, Hermione's attention pulls itself towards non essentials as her companion forcibly drags her through the crowds of confused gawpers lining the halls and decks of the ship, halls and decks which are already tilting noticeably to the left.
A smirk still manages to briefly flicker across the Japanese playboy's face, a smirk in appreciation of the foibles of the fairer sex. "There's no time, honey! We've gotta go!"
"There is time!" Whipping out her wand, muggles or no muggles, Hermione simply accios her handbag to her, the flying leather holdall managing to pass itself off as a cartwheeling piece of debris. With that secure, the pair make their way to a lifeboat, where their combined powers of the gift of the gab and magic manage to make a sailor lower it and let them climb in. Once they do, some more aware passengers attempt to follow suit, some succeeding despite the counter productive orders of the captain.
Once lowered onto the ocean, it's another mission to escape the sinking ship, but muscle and magic power, as well as quick thinking, again come to their rescue.
"I could disapparate, but I'm not letting ineptitude bilk me out of a magical discovery. Which way to the Bahamas?" asks Hermione, much to Sojiro's and his fellow passenger's bemusement.
🌴🌕🌴
The day arrives, with its blistering sun, but no rescue arrives with it. Instead, what looks to be a Bahamas island arrives on the horizon, complete with swimming pigs. That's the one thing that really stood out to Sojiro when he glanced at a cruise brochure in-between chatting up the pretty cruise ship 'fun facilitators' and casino dealers, so he exclaims in wry amusement.
"Well, looks like you'll be able to continue on schedule, Miss Granger." he says, as a pig swims by, trotters paddling the paradiscial turquoise blue waters. It sneers back. Ugly things, they cause a shiver to run down his spine.
"Yes. Row, please." Her gaze focused on the island, Hermione sits at the prow of the little craft like one of those maidens attached to the tall ships of old.
It beaches on the shore, and those it bore away from its mothership climb out and stumble onto terra firma, beyond grateful, their heads empty of anything else but a love of life, whatever condition it arrives in. The resident witch amongst them, however, immediately begins prowling around, searching for knowledge, undiscovered knowledge, heedless of her damp, salt blown hair and clothing.
"I sense a source of magic here. Where is it? What is it?"she mutters to herself as she paces up and down the glorious white beaches which line the shore.
"Hey, let's see if we can find a source of food and water before we look for stray knowledge." Sojiro, practical as well as a dandy, wraps a hand gently around the woman's upper arm, and pulls her away from what she claims is a glyph on a tree trunk, and what he claims is just random patterns in the bark.
Food and water, easier said than done on the typical desert island, but not on this one, which proves to be incredibly bountiful with its resources, and generous in providing them to the use of the refugees washed up from the ocean. Apart from pigs, which docilely wander about, there are also berries, coconuts, tubers, wild corn, mussels and the like, easy to catch fish and seabirds, turtles, and many more. A whale washes up right in front of the cruise ship escapees, and firewood literally falls from the trees. It's all a bit-
"Convenient…" muses Sojiro, while fish leap out of the water at him, literally hitting him in the pink shirted chest.
"What's that? Did you find something?" asks Hermione, while staring at what she is sure a glyph in the sand nearby.
"I say the ease with which we are getting what we need is all a bit convenient. A bit like…love bombing." as he says this, Sojiro glances around, up and down the beach, but all he sees is nature, and his fellow survivors.
Come night time though, his hunch receives back up. The group huddles in a makeshift shelter set up against a particularly sturdy tree free of coconuts or anything that can fall on their heads. The moon rises once again, and this time it leers. The face of it is so frightening, that the group climbs a couple trees.
And then the trees begin to shake.