Star-Crossed

He’s no longer in his suit and is instead matching her in all black, wearing his usual attire of a combat jacket with pants and sneakers. Hermione rips her earbuds out and glares up at him, at the boy she has spent a lifetime fighting. “You just had to take the diamond, didn’t you, Malfoy?” 

Draco’s eyes linger on her earbuds swaying at her waist, perhaps wondering what she was listening to. He shrugs, as if he was admitting to merely eating the last slice of pie. “I knew you’d notice the weight of the entire mask gone from your dress, so I settled for the diamond, although that was my backup plan.” 

Her gaze only hardens, continues barreling into his. “How.” 

His jaw tightens. “As much as I hate to admit it, I knew there’d be a chance you’d get the mask before me, so the diamond was what I decided I would get regardless. I called in a favor with my friend who works at the Museum, Adrian Pucey?” His mouth twitches almost imperceptibly. “He loosened the grip on the diamond so it would slip out just like that,” he snaps his fingers right by her ear. 

Hermione crosses her arms, grinding her teeth. “You just can’t let me win, can you?” 

Draco leans forward, his left hand coming up to brace the door, right by her head. His face is mere inches from hers, and her heart races again. “What’s the fun in that?” 

She lets her gaze trace over the sharp planes of his face, half immersed in shadow and half gleaming against moonlight. “But what the hell are you doing here?” 

A lopsided grin. “I’m presuming I’m here for the same reason you are, love.” 

Hermione pushes past him, trailing her fingers over the round table. “Captain Pam wrote to you, too?” 

She hears a click from behind her, and the lights gradually enhance. “What? No, Pansy called me.” 

She peeks over her shoulder at him, to where he’s leaning against the wall and twirling his snake ring around his finger. “Pansy?” she asks, cocking her head. 

Draco laughs, a sound laced with an affection she doesn’t expect. “You think someone as famous as her wouldn’t give herself an alias?” 

Oh. So Pansy is her real name, not Pam. “You didn't give yourself another name,” Hermione points out. 

He glances up at her. “I didn’t have to, the people did that for me, ‘Demon of Fire’ and all. For you as well, little miss ‘Angel of Sin’.” His eyebrow quirks. 

Hermione rolls her eyes. She wonders if there’s a limit to how many times she can do that before her eyes permanently stay in that position. “How do you know…” She stops, fumbling over the two names. “Pam? Pansy? What do I call her?” 

Draco’s fingers drum against his chin, rhythmic and precise. Like a pianist’s hands, Hermione thinks. “She goes by Pansy in private, Pam in public, unless that has changed. We met years ago when I was in London, we’ve kept in touch ever since.” 

She frowns. “She’s hiring us to work together?” 

His eyes lock on hers, distaste clear in his irises. “It would seem so.” 

Hermione approaches him again, her eyebrows knitting together. She’s a breath away from him. She can see that his eyes have different shades of grey swirled around, charcoal and timberwolf and slate and silver. A raging storm. “Looks like I can’t get away from you, can I?” 

Draco pushes off the wall, keeping their eyes connected as he towers over her. His jaw hardens. “No, I guess you can’t.” 

She juts her bottom lip out, acting the picture of dejection. “What a shame. I was enjoying my time without you so much.” 

His lips curve into yet another grin, and has she mentioned she hates him? 

A door on the opposite end of the room bursts open. “No cookies. What kind of ship has no cookies?” 

Hermione turns, confusion clouding her mind. Two boys have just entered, both tall and lean. The boy on the left has tousled brunette hair, with olive skin and intriguing molton brown eyes. He’s wearing a dark green soldier’s jacket with silver buttons, and from here it looks like there’s a sword slung at his side. He’s gesturing in disbelief to the other boy, a poised figure with tan skin and a buzz cut paired with deep eyes that look wholly black. His hands are deep in the pockets of his grey pants twin to his collared shirt. They’re both rather striking, despite their casual air. 

“I think you may be the only person who considers cookies a necessity.” The deep voice comes from the boy in grey. 

They pause, finally looking at her. The one in green looks at her, and his eyes seem to shift a few shades lighter, faded wood in the summer sun. “Hermione Granger?” He tilts his head at her. 

Her eyebrow creeps up her forehead. “Who’s asking?” 

His face breaks into a grin, dimples shining. He steps forward, gently gripping Hermione’s hand and bringing it up to his lips. “The name’s Theo Nott, princess,” he says against her. “But if anyone asks, I’m Teddy, Draco’s knight in shining armor.” Draco scoffs behind them. 

“Ignore his flirting and his dramatics,” the other cuts in, nudging Theo to the side. “He just means he’s the Slytherins’ best bodyguard and fighter, however surprising that is.” He sticks his hand out, and she takes it. “Blaise Zabini, or Blake, Slytherin Mole.” 

Her mind connects the dots: Draco’s best mates, both valuable assets to the Slytherins. “Yes, I’ve heard of both of you.” She looks between them. ”So you both have aliases as well?” 

Blaise shrugs. “Comes with the Slytherin syllabus.” 

Theo hoists himself onto the table, putting his cheek against his palm and propping his elbow on his lifted knee. He stares at Hermione, his charming smile still in place. “Now I realize why you’re called the Angel of Sin.” As much as Hermione wants to dislike him, she starts to smile. 

Blaise snorts. “Calm down, Theo.” 

Theo swats his hand at Blaise. “Piss off, I’m not making a move on her, I’m just saying she’s as gorgeous as her reputation implies.” 

Another sound from behind her, followed by a lilting melodic voice. “Sorry for the wait, lads.” 

Hermione tells herself to be cool over and over in her head as she spins around slowly to meet her hero. Captain Pam, or Pansy, is as stunning as she has always imagined. She’s small, shorter than Hermione, with flowing black hair in waves reminiscent of the waters she sails. Her eyes are warm hazel, a field of blooming flowers in the spring. She’s clad in tight black leather pants and brown knee high boots, and a classic white pirate blouse with a red vest laced on top. 

“Hey, Pansy,” Draco says, wrapping his arms around her waist in a tight embrace. He’s smiling, a true smile with all of his teeth. Hermione questions herself, questions why she feels a pang of jealousy that she’s never made him smile like that. 

Pansy squeals happily, wrapping her arms around his neck. Hermione clenches her jaw. “Draco! It’s so good to see you.” Pansy pulls away and smiles widely at her, surging forward and taking Hermione’s hands in hers. “And you must be the one and only Angel of Sin.” 

“Yes, I’m Hermione Granger,” she smiles back, completely in awe. “It’s such an honor to meet you.” 

Pansy’s face pinches together like she doesn’t believe that she’s a living legend. “Oh, please, the honor is mine! But let’s drop all the politeness, yes? We’re all the same age, and hopefully we’ll be working together.” 

“Ahem.” 

Hermione looks to Theo sitting on the table, who’s looking at Draco and Pansy expectantly. Draco blinks, lips pressing together to hold back a laugh. “Oh, sorry. Pansy, you remember Theo and Blaise.” 

Pansy nods eagerly, crushing Blaise in a hug. Hermione sees Theo’s eyes bulge, as if offended Pansy didn’t greet him first or even second or third. “Of course I remember!” Pansy affirms. “I’m sorry that I got caught up in conversation, I missed you guys so much.” 

Blaise chuckles, looking her up and down like she was almost entirely unrecognizable. “It feels like yesterday we were all running around London. We were what? Eleven?” 

She laughs, a sound more luminous than her spirit. She turns to Theo, hands resting on her hips and her lips curving into a sensuous half smile. “Hi, Theo,” she says quietly. 

Theo grins, big and loud. “Hey, Pans. It’s been awhile.” He hops off the table, approaching her slowly. “You still criminally obsessed with cosmetics and fashion?” 

“You still never shut up?” 

His grin grows. Dimples. “I missed you too, Pans.” 

Blaise claps his hands, an abrupt interruption. “Alright, are we going to get to business or what?” 

Pansy’s eyes close for a moment, long lashes brushing her cheeks, gathering herself. “Right, I’ll explain everything now.” She walks with determination towards some cabinets, taking out some maps and photos and cards and spreading them out across the table as we all circle around it. “Are you all familiar with the name Voldemort? Also known as Captain Moldy?” 

Hermione knows and pipes in, “The pirate whose nose was bitten off by a shark so he can’t even smell the most pungent mold?” 

Pansy’s face is grim. “Yes, but however humorous that is, he’s extremely volatile and dangerous. I’ve only met him once, but when I did…” Her eyes spark with the fire of someone who has faced nightmares in real life. She shakes her head, coming back to herself. “Anyway, he’s set his sights on a new mission.” Pansy’s jaw works, and Hermione doesn’t know what to expect. “Voldemort believes that only those who contribute substantially to society are worthy of life. He wants to eliminate disabled people and elders sixty and over, and he plans to start here, right off the water.” 

Hermione almost stops breathing. 

Her mum. 

Her mum. 

He would kill her mum. 

Theo flinches. “Eliminate? He wants to kill them?” 

Blaise curses under his breath, placing his hands on the table. “So what's the job? Kill him first?” 

“I wish it were that easy,” Pansy sighs. “The sheer amount of followers he has is mental, he’s guarded at all times. He’s currently recruiting more followers and preparing to take action.” 

“When?” Draco’s voice is rough. 

“Sometime in May.” Pansy makes eye contact with each of us, wildflowers settling in the comfort of warm summer wood. “And I know how to beat him.” She grabs the tarot like cards on the table and fans them out for all of us to see. There’s four cards, and each card has a picture and a title. Myths. Hermione recognizes them from her parents’ stories to her as a child. 

Theo squints, bending over to get a better look. “We’re gonna read him fairytales?” 

Pansy slaps his arm and tuts, “It’s not a fairytale, it’s true.” She taps her finger over and over on one of the cards. The card depicts seven specific items together in one container. The bottom reads: The Myth of the Seven Wonders, and Hermione’s memory serves true when Pansy elaborates. “Combining these items from each of the Seven Wonders of the World grants one wish with no limits. We can wish Voldemort and all of his followers out of existence.” Pansy moves her finger along a red sketched line on the map. “It takes eleven months to hit all the marks. I can make it seven.” 

Theo whistles, speculation clear in his features. “There’s a lot to unpack here, Pans. First off— not that I’m not excited to save humanity, of course— where does the money come from?” 

“You think Voldemort is poor?” Pansy laughs bitterly, a harsh sound that startles Hermione. “He has been looting money and assets longer than you’ve been alive. His net worth is hundreds of millions. If we do this, we get the money.” 

Theo nods, still looking unsure, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right. Yeah, okay. And this whole magic thing?” 

Pansy sighs, gesturing to the cards again, though this time pointing only at the first two. “You recognize these myths, yes?” 

Hermione jumps in, examining the first card with a family of rainbow water creatures and the other with a family surrounded by swirls of wind. “This family shapeshifts into hippocampi, and this family controls wind.” 

Pansy beams at her. “Follow me,” she declares, spinning on her heel and marching off. 

They file out behind Pansy, and Hermione is in between Draco and Theo when Theo jeers, “No, cause what the hell is a hippocampi?” 

Draco responds without looking back as they move up the stairs. “It’s plural for hippocampus, those colorful creatures in mythology, they’re literally underwater horses? You know that.” 

“Draco. Why in the hell would I know what?” 

“We all got the same education with the Slytherins, Theo, keep up.” 

“Oh, before I show you all: Granger.” Hermione perks up. Pansy pauses on the stairs, leaning against the railing and wiggling her eyebrows. “Are you in?” 

Draco watches her, his eyes unreadable. A cruel and beautiful creature set in stone. Pansy only asked Hermione, so she assumes Draco already accepted the offer earlier. 

Does she really want to do this? Hermione almost hits herself on the head. Of course she does. Not even Draco can ruin this for her. 

“Of course I am,” she answers after a beat. Draco’s expression doesn’t change. “I just need to talk to the Gryffindors and get my stuff together.” 

Pansy makes a little noise in the back of her throat, puckering her lips. “Hmm. Might as well tell you now— I already talked to the Gryffindors. They wish you well. Your stuff is already in your room and we are currently en route to our first stop.” With that, she turns and continues climbing the stairs. 

Hermione freezes. She blinks once, twice, thrice. “What?” 

Draco’s lips pull up at the corner, clearly amused at her shock, before he turns back around and swiftly catches up to Pansy. 

Theo sighs dramatically, clapping her on the shoulder and helping her walk. “Welcome aboard, princess.” 

The Gryffindors accepted the offer for her. They packed for her. They did this for her. She suddenly feels like crying, but she takes a deep breath and keeps it together as she steps onto the deck. 

The brisk night air is different now: it feels cleaner somehow, newer, as if the waves are churning all of the oxygen they breathe. The night isn’t pitch black, more of an indistinct shade of blue. But the evening is lit with the moon and innumerable constellations: the starlight hand in hand with the crescent is the most striking, most exquisite thing Hermione has ever seen. 

Pansy is leading them up another set of stairs to an upper deck at the back of the ship. “I know you might be hesitant with the whole magic aspect of things—”

Theo grunts. “Aspect? Literally the entire job depends on it.” 

“You’re saying it depends on something that doesn’t exist?” Pansy clarifies as we reach the deck. 

Theo crosses his arms over his chest, not budging. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” 

Something glows in Pansy’s eyes, and Hermione has a feeling that she’s going to win this battle. Pansy gestures to a figure laying on the floor that no one seemed to notice until now. A girl, maybe around their age, with her fair hair fanned around her wearing a blue nightgown. Her eyes are shut, her face peaceful. Theo whispers, “Is she alive?” 

Pansy announces, “This is Luna Lovegood.” 

The girl’s eyes open, the same blue as the water. “Hello, everyone,” she greets from the floor. They all look down at her curiously, turning their heads. 

“Luna, why don’t you show them what you do here?” Pansy implores, winking at the girl. A draft picks up, and Hermione pulls her arms tight around herself. 

The wind gets stronger. Stronger still. The sails catch in it, relish in it, propelling the ship forward five times faster than before. Hermione stumbles into Draco, and his arms immediately encase her. Her eyes widen, looking up into his face, at the way his face is illuminated by the night sky. His teeth grind together as he stares at her, and he lets her go. She shakes it off, moving to stand beside him. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Draco’s hand flex at his side. She scrunches her nose, both at the fact that that just happened, and that she didn’t hate it. 

The wind continues in its steady, almost unnatural speed, and Hermione finally realizes what’s happening when she looks at Luna. Luna, who’s laying flat on the floor and flicking her wrists in a series of motions. 

She’s controlling the wind. 

Draco rubs at his jaw, his mouth slack. “Woah.” 

“Woah,” Blaise parrots. 

“Woah,” Hermione agrees. 

Theo sputters, unable to find his words, his eyes bulged out of his skull. “Wow, okay, okay, I get it.” 

Pansy smirks at him. “That’s not even the best part.” Before anyone can register what’s happening, Pansy is sprinting to the edge of the boat. 

She dives overboard. 

Hermione gasps, rushing to the ledge. “No!” 

The boys are right behind her, and they all peer into the water. Blaise smacks Theo’s shoulder. “You arsehole, what did you do to her?” 

“Me? I—” 

A ginormous, magnificent creature springs from the water, twirling through the air with effortless grace. Hermione recognizes the creature immediately from the drawing. 

“Holy shit,” Theo whispers. 

Hermione is in complete shock as the hippocampus spins through the water, unbelievably gorgeous. Pansy’s eyes are still the same, though they’re now surrounded by colorful scales. She makes direct eye contact with Theo with a look of utter triumph.