Work Text:
Everyone in her family had motion sickness, everyone, even down to Nanny Molly. As she aged, poor young Hermione was never allowed on the boating lake with her boarding chums. Even to barely splash her feet, such was the aversion to water of her family.
“Bad things happen on the water, Mi!”
Her father proclaimed whilst elbow deep in some poor soul's mouth.
He was right, Dr. Granger was always right, which is why she craved it like the imported sugar she was never allowed to have. Darn it all, she needed a bit of frivolity and whimsy in her life, Hermione was certain she would find it out on those waters.
“Young Hermione was so naive” Hermione muttered under her breath.
In the here and now, she was sitting in the captain study of The Sea Snake and had just released her hands from her shackles binding her to the chair.
Hermione had a complicated relationship with the captain, he was an arsehole and a menace. He said she started it by stealing his compass, which was useless anyway as it didn't point north. She only needed a stupid compass that one time…
The door creaked open.
“Well, look who fell for my little honey pot, trapped in a literal web of rop- have you freed yourself already?”
Hermione lifted her hands and twinkled her fingers, not bothering to turn around. She smirked at the irritated huff and clunk of steps on wood.
A blond, arguably handsome, prat took a seat in the ornate carved wooden seat opposite her. The kohl rim on his lashes made the ice in them feel even more dangerous.
“It's like you don't try anymore” She smiled sweetly.
Hermione didn't wince when he lept, irritated, from his wooden throne. He stalked quickly forward with catlike grace, and slammed his hand beside her head on the back of her chair. She felt a dagger prick her throat, but what fear she used to have had been drowned out of her from a shady life.
“Where is it” He grunted through his teeth, like a gentle purr across her face.
“Come now, Draco. No need to be so brash” She whispered back, her eyes flickered down and looked back at him.
Draco looked down, a thin blade jutted out from Hermione's sleeve, poking at the leather trousers where his balls were. He shook his head and laughed, leaning back.
“Always one step ahead, aren't you?”
Draco moved away and walked to his drinks station, he lifted the teapot lid and tutted.
“Goyle!! Where's the chamomile!”