Ship of Dreams

Ship of Dreams
Chapter One
By evilrubberducky

“We're here, darling,” Margaret Granger said, sounding pleased. Hermione suppressed a snort. Of course her mother would be pleased! She had completely ruined her daughter's life! Hermione had been happily attending Beauxbatons, where she was learning magic, when her father died. Margaret had made Hermione drop out of school (making no attempt to hide her disapproval of Hermione's schooling. After all, her husband wasn't around anymore) and started looking for a rich man for Hermione to marry.

It had gone on for months, with Margaret picking all sorts of men out. The only upside was that Hermione had gotten to choose… somewhat. In her father's will, he had stated that he wanted Hermione to choose the man she married, so Margaret had found a way around it. Even though it wasn't saying much, the one she had chosen was the best man. He wasn't fat, and seemed to respect her more than the others, though again, that wasn't saying much. Not to mention the fact that since he was a wizard, she wouldn't leave the magical world after all. Of course, her mother didn't know that.

Draco had bought first class tickets on the Titanic for their new home in America. Hermione had no idea why the Malfoys had decided to move there, but she was bound to find out soon.

“Darling, did you hear me? I said we're here! You know, it is very rude to ignore your elders.”

“Yes, Mother,” Hermione sighed. She only had a couple days left of freedom, but with her mother hanging over her shoulder every minute to make sure Hermione wasn't ruining her reputation, it was going to be fairly horrible.

“My life is over before it even began. All I will be useful for is being a good wife as well as making little tiny Draco Malfoys,” Hermione thought, feeling depressed. Then the car stopped, and she was startled out of her thoughts.

A moment later, the car door opened and Draco was standing there, holding a hand to help her out of the car. Hermione considered slapping his hand away, but she wouldn't dare with her mother sitting right there. Instead she took it, and after straightening her button-up traveling dress and making sure her hat and gloves were on securely, Hermione took a look at the ship that would be taking her to her doom.

It was a huge ship, the largest Hermione had seen (and she had seen quite a large number of large ships). She could still smell the fresh paint that wrote in large black letters “R.M.S. Titanic”. It was gorgeous! Then she remembered who had gotten the tickets and instead said, “I suppose it'll do.”

“Hermione!” Her mother rebuked.

“Sorry, Mother.” Though of course she was not sorry at all. Margaret opened up her parasol and walked toward the closest first class entrance.

Hermione took a long look at the country behind her. Even though she had lived in France most of her life, she still had fond memories of this place. “Goodbye, England,” she muttered softly before taking Draco's outstretched arm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry Potter was playing a game of poker along with his best mate, Ron Weasley and some other men at a bar. Harry placed the few coins he had on the table and watched with eagerness and surprise as one of the men placed down two third class tickets to the Titanic. Once that had been done, Harry picked up the cards he had been given and suppressed a grin. This was going to be fun.

As one of the other men placed down his cards, Harry caught a look of triumph on his face. He could imagine the man's surprise when he saw Harry's cards, and once again suppressed a grin. One of the rules of gambling was having a blank face free of any emotion, a rule these men obviously hadn't learned. It was his turn at last. Harry put down his cards and laughed inwardly at the expressions on the men's faces when they realized he won, and they lost.

“Thank you, gentlemen, for the very enjoyable game,” Harry said, putting the money and the two tickets in a bag. “Now if you'll excuse us, we have a ship to catch.” As Harry and Ron turned to leave, he could hear the men attacking the fool who had gambled their tickets. As they ran towards the ship, they started laughing with joy. This was going to be an adventure of a lifetime!

Little did he know how true that thought was.

A/N- I know the first chapter is a lot like the movie, but I promise it gets more original. I have the first 3 chapters written, so there should be fairly quick updates.

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Chapter Two

Hermione entered her room slowly and carefully, almost as if the room was sealing her marriage.

"It's beautiful, ain't it?" said her maid, Hope Namson before leaving the room. Hope had learned that Hermione didn't punish her for speaking her mind. Hermione didn't like having a maid (too close to house-elves) but she had to choose her battles with her mother carefully.

It was a beautiful room. Since her mother was in her room resting (she said she had a headache) and Draco was off arranging one thing or another, Hermione didn't have to hide her awe.

A bed was on her right, pushed up against the corner, with curtains tied to the wooden bedposts, looking very inviting and beautifully soft. A small tea table was in the middle of the room, with a few chairs scattered around it and a small vase of flowers nailed down to it. The walls were covered in a lined floral pattern, with the bottom half painted white, which gave the room a very cheery and sophisticated air.


"Yes it is." Hermione agreed even though no one was there.

She went to her trunk, grabbed a book, and began to read on the bed. Just as she got to a good part there was a knock on the door. Hermione quickly hid her book (Margaret disapproved of her reading all the time. She said men hated a woman smarter than them. Besides, what was the use when all she needed was to be a good wife and mother?) and answered the door. It was her mother's maid.

"It's time to get dressed for dinner, Ma'am." Hermione sighed. She was used to getting dressed for every occasion, but she didn't like it. It was time wasted that could be spent doing other things, things that are actually useful for everyone.

Hermione unbuttoned her dress, and waited for the maid to tighten her corset. Once that was as tight as was humanly possible, the maid picked out a dress for her.

The dress of Hope's choice was a pale tan color, a bit washed out, with paisley cloth sewn together with transparent lace that buttoned high onto her neck and down to her wrists. There were thin layers of lace piled on her shoulders, making Hermione's forearms seem much skinnier than they actually were. A paisley sash was tied high on Hermione's waist, covering her middle even tighter than her corset.


Hermione thought it was very pretty, very drab, and completely fitting of the current predicament she had found herself in.


"Are you ready now, Hermione? We don't want to be late!" Draco snapped as he barged into her room.

"Hello to you too." Hermione muttered darkly under her breath. In a normal tone she said, "Yes. Shall we get going then?"

Once they entered the dining room, Hermione's mother beckoned her over and began speaking before Hermione could take a proper look around.

"This is my daughter Hermione, and this is her fiancé Draco Malfoy." Over the course of the meal, Mrs. Granger chatted about her wedding, all the important people invited, and Hermione's future as Mrs. Malfoy. With each sentence, she felt sicker and sicker until at last she couldn't take it any longer. Hermione needed to get out of there before she burst out screaming. Something her mother definitely wouldn't approve of.

"May I please be excused, Mother? I'm afraid I feel a headache coming on." Hermione said, knowing that would work. Mrs. Granger was often visited by headaches so she would not deny her daughter.

The second she was out of seeing or hearing distance, she began crying softly, wanting to kick something really bad. Instead, since there was no use dwelling on things she couldn't control or making said things worse, Hermione went to the library. She always did her best thinking while reading and she had heard marvelous things about the first-class library. If it were like everything else on the boat, it was sure to be grand. Besides, her mother and Draco would disapprove.
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About ten minutes later Hermione was sitting down on deck with her selected book, Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. She was at the part when Jane first met Mr. Rochester when a voice said, "Such a pretty girl shouldn't be sitting out her by herself." Hermione looked up to see a bunch of third class passengers. In her desperation to be left alone, she had left first class area. Now she was starting to regret that choice because she had a bad feeling about these men. If only Hermione had a wand! Of course, it was against the law to use magic against muggles, but she wasn't a witch anymore. Or was she?

"Something bad could happen." a companion of the first speaker said, walking closer and closer with each word. Hermione clenched her hands into fists. Even Mrs. Granger would approve if it meant saving Hermione's reputation.

"Leave her alone!" a voice seemed to call out from nowhere. The men turned around to see who was there, and Hermione took her chance. She hit the man closest to her with her book, silently apologizing to her current companion. There was a loud crack, and the man who had been hit covered his now bleeding nose, swearing loudly.

"Let's get out of here!" the men scrambled off at last, and Hermione took a look at her savior.

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Ship of Dreams
Chapter Three

...Well, her sort of savior, anyway. Hermione had been the one to actually hit the man, but she never would have been able to if her 'savior' hadn't distracted them.

"Are you okay?" the man asked. Because of his actions, Hermione doubted he was up to no good. Then again, he could be trying to trick her. Just in case, Hermione decided to be on her best guard, and keep her book in hand. Who knew with the male sex?

"Yes, thank you," Hermione said stiffly. She sounded like a stuck-up person who found anyone below first class beneath her, and she hated herself for it, but Hermione felt her dignity had suffered enough lately, and that it would be best that, now that she had extended her 'thank you's, if she just left. Strangely though, she found she couldn't, like someone had 'Petricicus Totalus'ed her feet- if that was even a word.

"Who are you?" she blurted out instead. When the man stepped into the light, Hermione held back a gasp. The man had jet-black hair, emerald green eyes, a fairly friendly face that looked like it had seen hard times, and, the most remarkable of all, a lightning shaped scar on his forehead. It couldn't be!

"I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself. I'm Harry Potter." Hermione bit back the urge to respond 'I know who you are! I've read about you in-' and proceed to name all of the books he was in.
You're supposed to be cutting back from that world! Besides, it sounds school-girlish and childish, she sharply reminded herself.

"Hermione Granger. Pleasure to meet you." She gave him one brief shake of the hand, setting down her book before doing so, giving him another quick look as she did. Was he a first class passenger visiting this class as she was? After all, he had inherited money from his parents- quite a lot of it if the rumors were true - and with all the awards given to him, he would have made a lot of money that way, too. And yet his clothes were worn and looked as if he had been wearing the same thing for days. Maybe he dressed that way to blend in?

They stood in silence for a few minutes, neither quite sure what to say. Hermione had never been completely alone with the male sex before (not counting her father, of course) because it was quite improper for an unmarried girl of her class. Now that she had the freedom to say what she liked without worrying about a disapproving look or a smart scolding later, she found nothing would come up in her brain.

Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, Hermione once again felt the urge to leave.

"My mother is expecting me, and I shan't make her wait." It was somewhat true. Mrs. Granger would be back soon, and she was expecting Hermione to be in bed. "I thank you again." With that said, Hermione took her leave, completely forgetting about her book.


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Harry watched Hermione go with some interest. He had been walking to his rooms when he first saw her.

At first he felt angry. It wasn't right that first class passengers were allowed to come and go when they chose to, gaping at poverty like it was some sort of circus act. But Hermione hadn't done that. She just sat down and read, and it seemed that she had just been looking for a quiet place to read without being disturbed.

Then the men came, and Harry wasn't quite sure what to do. He didn't want to do magic because he didn't want to be traced or get special treatment from the Ministry for breaking the law by performing magic on Muggles. But he didn't have to worry. When he called out to them, Hermione took action. She really was quite the unusual girl, especially for first class. Harry felt drawn to her presence; she intrigued him. He doubted, however, that he would ever see her again. He couldn't exactly go traipsing up to first class, and after tonight, Hermione probably wasn't going to come back down there.

Then he noticed her book and smiled.

"Maybe I'll be seeing her soon after all," he thought hopefully as he picked up the book and went to his room.

A/N- Sorry this chappie's so short! I'm not very good at writing long chapters, unfortunately.

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Ship of Dreams
Chapter Four
Six months earlier

“Please sit,” the current Minister of Magic said. Though there was a please, Draco knew that it was an order. “Tea?” Fudge offered. Draco nodded once. He had a feeling that this meeting wasn't going to end nicely, and he might as well enjoy his privileges before it disappeared all together. The minister poured a cup of tea, and Draco added a bit of milk. After a few sips, Fudge started talking.

“I shall get straight to the point. These past few months have been nasty ones indeed, cleaning everything up. We have gotten almost everything done, except in the case of you. You, one of the only Death Eaters who hasn't been killed, sent to Azkaban, or been given the kiss.” Draco's only response was to reach for a chocolate chip scone. If he spoke it would make things worse, but being silent wouldn't help either. It was one of those cases where no matter what he did he was in deep trouble. Draco decided that keeping silent was the lesser of two evils.

“For days a few trusted officials and I have gone over the matter. On one hand you were a Death Eater and therefore part of the darkest times the wizarding world has ever seen. But you have not killed, nor is there any proof that you used the Unforgivables. Not because you were against what you-know-who wanted you to do, but simply out of cowardice.”

Draco decided to speak. “I helped you in the end as well as helped in the capture of several Death Eaters.”

“Yes, and that is why this meeting is being made in my office with pleasantries instead of you having a trial and being in shackles. But here comes our greatest concerns. You willingly betrayed your friends, your family, as well as what you believed in. What proof is there that the same courtesy won't be repaid to us, who don't even have as much in our favor?” Draco waited for a while to make sure that this last one wasn't a rhetorical question. After a minute and a half, Draco decided it wasn't.

“You don't, Sir.” There, honesty should score something in his favor, at the very least.

“But none-the-less, we have come to our decision. What matters more to you than your family name? The “pureness” of your bloodline? To show you support the way we will now run our government, you must marry a muggle.” Draco pretended to be horrified at the news. He was horrified, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. It wasn't a dementor, that was for sure. All he had to do was marry some rich (and pretty) muggle, and then spend all his time away from home and never be with her, like most marriages were. He could have several mistresses of pure blood, and therefore his off-spring would be pure of blood.

“Very well.” He said in the most disgusted voice he could muster, and then gathered his coat to leave. This was almost too good to be true.

“Oh, and Mr. Malfoy?” Fudge called right when Draco was at the door. He turned, a scowl on his face. “You must leave England, and we will be watching you. You have six months.”

Damn.

The first thing Malfoy did when he got home was to change most of his fortune to either pounds or dollars. He wasn't going to risk losing his fortune, much as it saddened him to change it. Then he bought a home in America to take his bride to. America was the second best place to be, and at least he wouldn't have to speak a different language. And despite how much it pained him, he studied the muggle world. If he were to impress the mother of a daughter of marriageable age, he would need all the charm in the world.
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It didn't take long at all to find the perfect candidate, the Granger's. Hermione was their only child which meant she would inherit everything, and Mr. Granger was dead, which meant no over protective father. If it hadn't been for the fact that Hermione had the choice of choosing her own husband, it would have been done earlier. But just as he knew she would, she picked him eventually.

The plan was going perfectly, and in no time at all he would be back to his old tricks.

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