The Green Siren

Chapter 05

Draco groaned, cursing the pounding on his door with every obscene word in his vocabulary. It had been two weeks since his first night on board the Siren and he had yet to become accustomed to being awoken at dawn. He could hear the pounding footsteps of the rest of the crew as they rushed to their positions, getting a head start on their chores.

"Up you get, Lumpy!" Red gave his door one last rap before leaving to tend to the steering wheel.

With one last sigh, Draco shoved the covers away from him and pulled on his shirt, wincing as his muscles ached. Most of the crew was already hard at work when he arrived on deck and Creevey called out a cheerful greeting before having half a bucket of water dumped over his head by Zabini.

Draco smirked, then strode over to the mast to help Bottom hoist the sails. The sight of the black sails still sent a wave of nerves to shudder through Draco, but he was slowly getting used to the sight of them. The stories of the Siren that sailors would come home with always chilled Draco's bones. The sails darker than shadows, the smirking skull and crossbones, and the piercing lightning bolt across the skull's forehead were legend amongst seafarers. To Draco, it seemed almost an act of betrayal to be the one displaying the forbidding sails.

"Top 'o the mornin' to ye," Timber Toe clapped Draco on the back before climbing up to the crows nest and joining Tommo.

Grumbling and widening his eyes exaggeratedly in an attempt to wake himself up, Draco picked up a knotted pile of rope and got to work untangling it. His long, nimble fingers were starting to become rougher and calloused.

He'd mentioned this to Bottom a couple of days previous and had received only laughter. As an explanation, the man had shown his hand to Draco and stated that Draco's hand was like a lass's cheek compared to his. It was a running joke amongst the crew now that Draco had 'lady hands,' much to his displeasure.

"What did that pitiful rope do to offend you?" A shadow loomed over Draco.

Registering that he'd been scowling, Draco smoothed out his features and looked up at Harry. His face was expressionless, but his eyes—which Draco had realized were the color of the sea, much to his aggravation—were twinkling.

"It kidnapped me and put me to work on a ship," Draco quickly replied upon seeing Harry's head tilt.

The head tilt. Draco dreaded the cant of Harry's head, as it meant that he was considering, pondering, or surprised by something interesting. It was occurring more and more often around Draco, something he knew was most likely due to Draco's habit to get caught up in his thoughts during a conversation or let one of these thoughts slip off his tongue.

"You don't despise the work as you'd like many to believe," Harry said easily, crossing his arms over his chest and looking out at the horizon.

"I abhor that accusation," Draco snapped, glaring at the dark-haired man.

Harry merely shrugged. "Yet you don't deny it.

He pulled a wicked dagger from his belt and used it to loosen a knot that Draco had been having trouble with. Draco forced himself to mutter an incoherent 'thank you,' as his fingers had been starting to become numb due to the stubborn tangle. Harry winked and opened his mouth to say something more, but was interrupted by Tommo.

"Cap'n!" The man had a wide grin.

With a curious frown, Harry clenched the dagger between his teeth and pulled himself up to the crow's nest with a rope. Draco would never admit that in that moment, he had been watching the muscles of Harry's back and biceps clench and contract as he did so. He also swore never to divulge the fact that he found the sight of Harry's windblown hair and a blade clenched between his teeth highly attractive.