Chapter 1

It was late October when he finally arrived at his new house, well it was new to him because he had just purchased it but it was really an old cottage near a tiny muggle village. He told himself he was ready to be back in England, but he wasn't daft enough to go and plant himself in wizarding London. No, this little cottage in the middle of nowhere was the perfect choice, or it would have been, had it not been for his new neighbour and her always idiotic best friend.

Her friend looked furious, he was walking right up to him, brows furrowed, and fist clenched. But not her. She was walking behind the idiot, eyes unfocused, with no expression that indicated her feeling about having him near. He felt a pang of recognition in the way she looked. Lost, broken, too familiar. Something stir inside of him, she shouldn't look like that, not her, it was just wrong. But before he could contemplate this weird feelings they had already reach him.

"What the hell are you doing here Malfoy!" Potter's face was so red it would had matched Weasley's hair...Where was the Weasel?. "You can't be here, go back to wherever rock you were hiding in".

"I just happen to live here, Potter." What was the guy's problem, anyway. Merlin he had forgotten how annoying Scarhead could be. She, thought, didn't seem to mind, her eyes were busy observing the moss covered stairs to the main door.

"Well then bloody move. It's not like you can't afford something better." So? he liked this house, Potter would have to bugger off.

"I´m afraid I Iike it here." his eyes turned to her. "I guess that will make us neighbours, Granger."

"The hell you will" Potter was getting louder, but Granger kept looking at the stairs.

"I would invite you over for some tea and crackers but there's only coffee and pan de muerto." That made her look at him, finally. He was ready for hate, or contempt or just plain dislike, but there was only some faint curiosity.

"Is that the mexican bread?" Even Potter looked shocked.

"Yeah...I just came back from there." The curiosity grew.

"Can I see it?" The way she talked sounded off, like some rare occasion, looking at Potter's dumbstruck expression maybe it was. He could be rude, or mean, or just give some lame excuse as to why she couldn't but it would mean giving Potter what he wanted, and no matter how much he had change in the past five year, some things were too hard to change. Ok, maybe he just didn't want to.

"You can have some too, if you want" Was that too much? But she had a faint smile on her face and was walking right at him and all of a sudden it felt like too little, like he needed to do more, anything, to keep her smiling.

"Thank you." She entered the house without waiting. He signalled her still shocked friend to come in, no matter how much he wanted to close the door and went to the kitchen, where he found her staring at the bread.

"Would you like some coffee with it? It's mexican too. From Chiapas." Real smooth Draco. But she was nodding, so he went to find the mugs and plates that were still on boxes over the counter.

"Would..would you tell me?" He turned to look at her, she was gazing at the bread, but her eyes looked far away. Again, that same feeling of recognition, it made him feel a little sick. "About Mexico, I mean."

"Sure, you should go there some time, it is quite beautiful. Full of mosquitoes, but nothing a good repellent charm can't fix. It's a whole new world really, warm and friendly. The magical world is so connected with the muggles you wouldn't believe it possible, even some animals, magical I mean, roam around the muggle jungle without hiding, it's amazing." He poured the coffee and gave her a slice of bread, he was well aware he was babbling like an idiot but after years of travelling maybe he also needed someone willing to listen. Potter was watching them by the corner of the kitchen, arms crossed and tensed.

"What do you mean about both worlds being connected?" Potter's eyes looked ridiculously big, it was kind of funny.

"Well the Shamans still help muggles with healing potions, and they don't burn them on steaks like they use to do in here. I think there was a time of inquisitions and death too, but the natives protected them or something. Even tourist visit some wizarding villages, I mean ofcourse they don't let them see everything but the fact that there is that kind of interaction seems unreal if you compare it to us." Her mug was almost empty and he could feel Potter approaching them. For some reason, knowing she would be gone soon made him uneasy. "You would love it, even the big cities are full of color. In spring there is a street in Mexico City that looks purple."

"Purple?"

"Yes, there's this tree, you see, with purple flower, that covers the entire avenue and if you are lucky the wind blows and everywhere you look it feels like purple rain." She looked beautiful, that was unexpected. She was looking at him with something like gratitude, it unnerved him. Potter of course ruined the moment.

"It's time to go, Hermione." She blinked a few times, like she had forgotten her friend was there, then nodded and stood up. She was already walking through the door when she turned around and looked at him. He didn't know how to describe her at that moment, wrapt around an old chal, in a big yellow sweater that was at least two sizes bigger than it should be, and a messy braid. She looked thin, too thin, he noticed, and had bag under her eyes so big he was surprised he hadn't seen them before. Then she spoke. "Thank you."

He couldn't speak so he moved his head instead. She gave him a wavering smile.

"You could come over some time. I have tea." And then she was gone.