"Let's go to the beach!" Hermione suggested. Draco and she were bored out of their minds after they'd dropped Chara at platform nine and three-quarters. Hermione had acquiesced to Draco's request to follow the Black Family tradition of naming their daughter after a star. Draco was always closer to his mother than his father. Thus, as the Black family line had died with Sirius, he used the Black tradition to name children after stars. In this case, Chara meant "Joy", And she certainly was.

Draco had certainly mellowed out since Hogwarts.

"What is this?" Draco almost shrieked as he saw the half-naked girls, supposedly praying to the sun upside down with their arms and legs spread out a bit.

"They are tanning, Draco. Not everyone likes to have a pale complexion like you do; it's weird to be pale when you live in a place where it's almost always sunny."

Hermione was exasperated. She should have realised, Draco hadn't lived in the Muggle World, OBVIOUSLY. So he wouldn't have known that fashion had changed rapidly and the difference was quite visible in the 40's swimsuits and the suits of nowadays. Back then, a bathing suit was more like a short dress than two shell-shaped and one vertical piece of cloth and four pieces of string. And now she realised why Draco was worried.

September 1996

The Slytherins were not back-stabbers. Nor were they tattle-tales. This was proved when they found out that the gooey mess stuck to the train after the fifth year of the '91 batch did not include Draco Malfoy in it. After further research in the shadows, they realised that Malfoy Sr. was a spy along with Snape of which the latter they already knew. They could have found eternal glory by presenting the blood-traitor to the Dark Lord. But decided they'd rather not waste pure blood as that would defeat all what they lived for. They wanted purebloods to be superior, but not at the cost of young lives. To be truthful, they had no idea what the Dark Lord strived for anymore. He seemed to kill those pure just for heightening his temper a bit. The way he was going, he would be the ruler of an empty world with nothing but him when he won, or rather, if he won. All these thoughts went through the minds of the Slytherin students in sixth and seventh year. The only reason they were still alive was that their minds were strictly closed by means of Occlumency. So, at last, they decided to give an application for re-sorting the small brat. And if their parents asked, well, the fake arrogance and bravado of the Malfoy boy was legendary to everyone. That could easily be construed as the reason for it.

So, quite nervously, Draco Malfoy gave up his hat as he walked, the silent solitary man, up the dais, and onto the stool which was now too short for him. He prayed not to be put in Hufflepuff as he remembered his dad saying," A murder will happen in the Manor when a Malfoy gets sorted into Hufflepuff!"

Then, the unthinkable happened, which would most certainly be talked about for centuries.

Draco Malfoy got sorted into Gryffindor. The whole hall fell silent and even the ghosts' mouths were wide open. Sir Nicholas' head was quite willing to be separated from the neck below it. The ghostly chains of the Bloody Baron clanked as he looked shockingly at Draco. What about the Slytherin Head? Well, Severus had quite a brilliant poker face, he had to; being a spy was no easy job. But now all he could do was look at Draco with astonishment. He couldn't afford to scream at his once-was Slytherin. Malfoy just gave one last hateful look towards the Hat, whose brim was suspiciously wide in a smirk, worthy of a Slytherin.

Draco went and sat at the edge of the Gryffindor benches. He knew this was a potential situation for him to get hurt easily. The professors always equalled the so-called Golden Trio as Gods of Hogwarts and that they could do no wrong in the school. So a black-eye or a hurt hand or leg would not prove that they did anything to him. Hopefully, Granger would prevent them from getting too hot-headed. And when did he stop calling her Mudblood, would you ask? Well, the screaming, the taunting, even the hexing was a ploy so Hermione would pay attention to him. When she punched him during their third year, he felt that he never wanted to bandage the wound as her hand had touched his nose. In their fourth year, when the Ball was announced, he wanted nothing more than to go and bend on one knee, begging her permission to escort her to the Ball. But he knew, oh how he knew, that Slytherins had an inside Motto – Gryffindors are our whores! He did not agree with it but then he had to stick to the status quo, at least to save the ones he loved. So he gritted his teeth and took Pansy, a sad face permanently stuck, when he saw her delightfully dance with the Bulgarian Bastard Krum.

In their fifth year, a slight change occurred. Hermione never seemed to notice him anymore. She always wanted the boys to ignore him. And she did so too, usually dragging them away with a strength he always questioned, especially as the Weasley boy seemed like a vacuum cleaner ( He knew what a vacuum cleaner was, fuck you very much). The way he totally breathed food into his mouth was disgusting. If the world stopped revolving around the sun, and Weasley had become a Slytherin, his mouth would have been slapped a thousand times during the first night of their First year itself. That was the reason why the Slytherins had such perfect posture, even the young ones. And when the Inquisition squad started, the taking of those points, Draco had never hated himself more. He had to, he was a Malfoy, he was supposed to hate Mudbloods, then why was Hermione getting under his skin in a beautiful way?

When they met on the train on their way back home at the end of the fifth year, he used the time turner his father had given him to supposedly keep out of trouble, but he thought his father meant that if he killed someone in his hot-headedness, he should reverse it by means of this device. So he entered the compartment where the Trio were sitting and turned the device a half turn back. Immediately it was half an hour early and Weasley spouted off," Malfoy, what are you doing here?" And his lovely, lovely angel put the pieces together as if her mind had infinite amounts of glue to stick it and asked," Where did you get the time turner from?" He just shrugged and told them in a no nonsense tone," I do not wish to join the Dark Lord. My father has shown me some of the pensieve memories of the various acts they had to do in order to get the Dark Mark, and some of them were so disgusting I vomited for days and couldn't eat anything at all. Even though I like to irritate you guys, I would never want to kill you." Then Potter gave him the look which people described as "can look into your soul" and deemed him worthy, apparently just by nodding. Hermione just smiled and told him that she had believed in him even when he had called her Mudblood on the Quidditch ground three years back.

Back to the beach

"Okay so, clear one thing for me, right now."

"Yes, Dear,"

"So, girls like to wear these?"

"Yes."

"And they don't like to wear long dress robes like we do?"

"No, they don't."

"And they wear short dresses like you are wearing right now?"

"Not everyone, some people are not comfortable with baring so much skin… but I took a survey via the Internet and that proved that 80% of women like to show skin. Out of the remaining twenty, twelve think they have unflattering bodies and.."

"Hush, my darling. I think when your flattering body is front of me, why should I think of some girl who is so worried about which guy may or may not see her body? All I want to do is touch you, feel your brilliant curves, touch you from your feet and drag my hands up as it goes above your knees to your.."

"Shut up, Draco! Do you want me to become wet without help of the beach waves?"

"Can someone get turned on by sea waves?"

"You know that was not what I meant. So help me God, you turn into a pervert as soon as our baby leaves us."

"Do you prefer I turn away my face from you and not ogle you when our daughter goes away?"

"Of course not, Dra…..ugh! I hate you!"

"No. You don't."

"Yeah, I don't."

Having finished this conversation, where Draco was surprisingly shocked that they were not the centre of attention as it was at school or even the Wizarding World in general. On asking Hermione, she giggled loudly enough that people looked at them and smiled as the couple looked gorgeous together. She told him, "Out here, we are no more than two random people out on the beach. If you want attention, you can apply suntan lotion on me."

"Why? Can't we just remove our wands and..."

"Remember what I told you, you have to learn to survive here in the Muggle World. Use of magic shouldn't be a handicap."

"Then what about certain magics which vibrates a certain something in your something?"

"There is a Muggle product doing the same thing. It's called a vibrator. No imagination there, but you get the point. Why do our conversations always come back to sex?"

Draco sniggered and said," Weeelll, I know for a fact that I am permanently horny around you and mmbbbmbtt."

"At least I got to shut you up." Hermione had closed Draco's mouth with her hands.

After all this conversation, Hermione went and picked out the perfect spot where they could tan but also with a bit of privacy. She then removed her short but simple blue spaghetti dress, leaving underneath a bikini. It was black, and it was hot with a capital H. Draco was figuratively drooling (not literally, Malfoys never drooled) and then told her," I want to rub you down so bad right now. Hand me that lotion." And Hermione herself broke the rule of no magic and created a privacy ward leading to some amazing sex, which was the cause of Baby no. 2, Mira, which meant astonishment. As the Muggles were certainly astonished at how much porno sounds were coming from an apparently empty beach.