Chapter Two: Heat

Sometimes the nights would drag on forever, heavy with summer heat and unspoken conversations. Harry would sit in the kitchen with a tall glass of ice water that always left water rings on the table. Hermione made mental notes of covering them up before Fleur's family returned, but she had forgotten when that was supposed to happen. She felt like she had been living there with Harry for ages, but the summer had just started and Ron had only left a couple weeks ago.

Hermione wondered if Ron was enjoying the weather in Romania. She wondered if something had helped him feel normal again; maybe Charlie, maybe the dragons, maybe being away from it all so he could heal. She should have followed his steps. She should have selected another country, completely at random, and started over there by herself.

But she knew that Harry didn't want to be alone. He would have understood if she had left, just like they understood Ron doing so, but meanwhile she had decided to stay with him. Close, but not too close. Not at Grimmauld Place or The Burrow, where the walls seem to drip memories like open wounds. They needed somewhere fresh and new, so Fleur offered them her family's summer cottage in the South of France, which sounded perfect in theory; it was right on the beach, completely isolated, and the sun shone all the time.

Hermione thought the sea would help them heal. They could talk and cry about what happened, walking along the shoreline and working together to move on. But so far, the summer had only made things worse. It was as if they were stuck on time, forced to keep thinking about those who weren't there and never quite leaving them behind, as if they were constantly running underwater. She knew that Harry was probably hurting the most and she needed to take his hand and help him forward, but she had stumbled upon a reality in which she was in no condition to help, and they were both being dragged by the waves and pushed right back where they started.

She walked over to him and placed a hand on his burnt forehead. "You're still a bit hot. I'll get some salve for your skin, but you need to drink your water."

None of them had said a word for hours, and her voice was loud to her own ears. Harry drank more water while she grabbed the jar of ointment for burns. Harry's whole skin was red, which was even more worrying given his natural dark colour. It looked better than yesterday when she found him, but it still needed to be taken care of.

Hermione returned and stood in front of Harry, who finished the last of the water and put the glass down. She reached for his arms and signaled for him to hold them up while she carefully removed his t-shirt. He winced at the fabric grazing his skin, but then he sat up straighter and opened his legs so Hermione could step in closer. She started applying the salve to his chest and shoulders, careful not to rub his skin too hard. Harry closed his eyes and she took the opportunity to spread the soothing gel on his face too. He spent so much time floating with his eyes closed, that even his eyelids were burnt. She traced a delicate finger down his nose, cheeks, and then over his chapped lips.

Hermione had spent a lot of time with Harry over the years, and even during that period last year when Ron left them in the Horcrux hunt, she had never really paid attention to him up so close until now. She dipped the fingers of her other hand in the salve and passed both hands over his jaw and chin, feeling the stubble prickle the pads of her fingers. She massaged him softly on the temples and then dropped her hands to his neck and them to his stomach, covering Harry's entire front with the cool salve.

"I forgot your ears," she whispered and rubbed each with one hand. Harry opened his eyes. She didn't remember them being so green.

He smiled and she thought that it must have been the first time in days. "Thank you."

Hermione smiled back and then walked around him to put some salve on his back too, even though it wasn't as bad as his front. Suddenly Harry's shoulders were shaking and Hermione's heart dropped, thinking he was crying. She rushed to kneel in front of him only to discover that he was laughing.

Somehow it didn't calm her down, and the worry grew bigger in her mind that he might be going crazy. "Harry, are you alright?"

Harry nodded, still bent forward laughing. Hermione couldn't help smiling a bit. If he was going crazy, then she might have to follow him into insanity.

"I just-" Harry struggled to speak. "I just can't believe I burnt my whole front body by floating in the water for hours," he laughed some more and Hermione had to contain her amusement. "I'm so thick!"

"You're not thick," Hermione said, even though her voice was laced with mirth. "You're just...You're just..."

She couldn't find the right words and it made Harry laugh even harder, so she gave up and started laughing with him as well.

Harry wiped the corners of his eyes and shook his head. "I was really out of it."

"Well, I know how that feels," Hermione replied, still smiling.

"No, but really," Harry said. "I even started hallucinating before you found me."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "You never told me that."

"Well, no. But now that I think about it, if I hadn't thought I was seeing Draco Malfoy on the beach, I might not have tried to return. Maybe I would have kept floating and ended up in an island somewhere." He snorted.

Hermione's heart stopped. Had she heard him correctly?

"D-Draco Malfoy?"

Harry shook his head disbelievingly. "I know, I must have been absolutely gone. I thought he had come to attack us."

Harry was still smiling and he hadn't noticed Hermione's shocked expression. "How would he even know we're here? I clearly wasn't thinking."

Of all the things that Harry could have hallucinated, was it too much of a coincidence that it was Draco Malfoy? The same person she thought she saw a few days ago in the beach too? It had been normal for her to see the faces of the people that died in the war, especially if she was sleep deprived or thinking about them for too long. But Malfoy had never appeared before, and in the end she had attributed the whole thing to a dream.

But now...

"I saw him too," she said softly.

Harry didn't seem to have heard her and he only frowned.

"Harry, I saw Malfoy on the beach too."

It was terrifying watching the way Harry's sunburnt face paled considerably second by second.

"When?" he asked, his voice unnervingly low.

Hermione sat on the floor, needing to ground herself. "The other day when you found me sleeping there. I thought it was a dream, but now that you say this... He did look slightly different from the others."

"The others?"

She opened her mouth and then closed it quickly. She had never told Harry that she would spend days without sleeping and then see people she knew weren't there. It wasn't a good sign, but she didn't worry too much, it would probably go away on its own.

"Fred. Colin. Tonks," Hermione felt a big knot in her throat and she had to bite her own tongue to keep from crying. Harry looked scared upon her revelation. "It's nothing, I read it's normal. It's a way of coping, I guess."

Harry nodded weakly, obviously not wanting to talk about them any longer.

"But Malfoy was never there until the other day. Do you think... It was real?"

They looked at each other for a moment before Harry shrugged. "What's the other possibility? A spell? A curse? What would make both of us see Malfoy on separate occasions?"

Hermione thought for a second. As far as she knew there was nothing that would cause such a specific condition to develop, and she and Harry hadn't seen anyone else except Ron for almost a month. Something didn't feel right.

The look she saw on Harry's face was one that she didn't think she would see again so soon. He didn't like what was happening, that much was clear, but there was also a determination that took Hermione back to the days before the war.

Harry stood up abruptly. "We need to strengthen the wards, and then take turns guarding outside. The sightings weren't so far apart, so if he's around we will probably see him again soon." Harry went into the living room and picked up their wands from the flower vase where they kept them. "I know we have stopped relying on the wands so much, but I think we need to keep them close again just in case."

He shoved Hermione's wand into her hand and kept pacing. "Harry, don't get so worked up, you're still weak from yesterday. "

"You need to let me know if you leave the house like the other day. I'll take the first guard, you can get started with the wards."

Hermione shoved her wand in the pocket of her pajama bottoms, took a big dollop of salve in her hand and walked over to Harry, knowing he wasn't listening much right now. When he turned his back to her, she started massaging him with the salve. He was startled for a second before he relaxed and leaned into her touch.

"I'll get started on the wards, but there's no way you're taking the first shift. You need to let your body rest."

Harry nodded softly. "But you let me know if you get tired. We need to make sure we're not hallucinating this time."

Hermione felt a shiver down her spine and she stuck her hand in her pocket, gripping her wand. She had managed to sleep the night before, so she was probably not going to be seeing things tonight, but what if she did? What if Malfoy appears again and she can't tell if he's real or not?

"Alright."

After Harry went to sleep ("I'm taking the sofa, the bedrooms are too far from you Hermione!") she changed clothes, put on shoes that she hadn't touched since they got there, and packed water and snacks for her night guard.

She was afraid that not using her wand for two weeks had made her rusty, but Harry did a good job of assuring her she'd be "as brilliant as always."

Hermione secured the wards around the house and then she settled on the sand, not too far from the house, but she figured that if Malfoy was going to appear, it would be on the beach like the other two times.

If he was real, that is.

It was hard not feeling a bit paranoid now that she knew that an enemy could be close by.

Hermione bit her tongue. Was Malfoy an enemy? He certainly wasn't a friend, but after everything that happened during the Battle of Hogwarts and after, she didn't really consider him an oppositional force, much less evil. She was sure Harry didn't either, especially after he saved Malfoy's life and after Narcissa saved Harry's.

But if he really was somewhere around, his motives couldn't be anything but malicious, could they?

The night dragged on slow and steady, with only the sound of each wave as a measure of passing time, as Hermione had forgotten a watch or clock. After a while, she stopped being afraid that Malfoy would show up and she started worrying that the ocean would swallow her whole, the waves reaching closer and closer to her feet until she had to move.

The sun greeted her again, warm and soft as always, and it occurred to her that she had seen many sunrises but barely no sunsets since she was there. She also hadn't read any books in a while. Initially she had thought that books would just give her an unhelpful distraction while she was trying to focus on feeling better, but now she just had no idea what she would even read. Hermione had always pictured herself as someone who would read anything that could possibly help, but if someone told her there was a book with specific instructions on how to move on, she didn't think she'd believe anything it said.

Hermione waited until the sun was fully out before walking back into the house. Harry was fast asleep but awoke when Hermione closed the door behind her.

He seemed alarmed for a second until he realized it was just her, safe and sound. He smiled sleepily, hair a mess and shirt forgotten on the floor.

"All good?" he asked.

Hermione smiled. "Perfect."

.

Harry stood guard all morning while Hermione slept, but she dragged him inside at noon to keep him out of the sun for a while and eat lunch. Still, Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from the window, and even though he knew Hermione was more reasonable than him, he could tell his paranoia was rubbing off on her; she was twitchy and alert, and she obviously needed more sleep.

"If I agree to put on that awful-smelling sunblock you brought, would you let me stand guard the rest of the day while you sleep?"

Hermione stopped drying the dishes when she heard Harry speak. "Awful? It smells like coconut!"

"I don't think I like coconuts." Harry shook his head. "If I knew a spell that could protect me from the sun I'd use it, but I'm willing to slather that thing all over me if it will make you sleep peacefully."

It also took a cap, sunglasses, and a two-liter bottle of water, but in the end Hermione agreed.

And so they fell into a routine. Hermione took the night shift at midnight, then they cooked, ate, and talked until noon, when she went to sleep and Harry took over. Repeat.

Harry didn't know if it was the adrenaline of thinking someone was after them, or maybe the sense of purpose, but for the first few days he felt better than he had felt in months.

That is, until a week and a half went by and there was no sign of Malfoy whatsoever.

Now he was constantly tired of being under the sun, even if his skin was healed. He missed Hermione and he would probably go crazy if he had to spend another day without talking to anybody.

Besides, they had to start facing the possibility that they both had a very strange vision of Draco Malfoy and no way to explain it.

Harry woke up earlier than usual that morning, with a clear feeling of having enough. Hermione was still outside when he looked out the window, the sun softly painting her silhouette in shades of pink.

He closed the front door rather loudly to announce himself and not scare her. She looked over her shoulder and smiled faintly.

"Good morning," he said while sitting down next to her.

"Good morning. Couldn't sleep?"

He shook his head. They watched the sunrise quietly for a while. Harry hadn't seen a sunrise in a long time.

"Another sunrise, another day," Hermione sighed. "I love sunrises, though."

Harry nodded. He thought he preferred sunsets himself, but this one was quite lovely.

"I think it's time to stop." He knew he didn't have to specify what he meant. If he knew Hermione as well as he thought, she had probably been thinking the same for a while and had only continued for Harry's sake.

She nodded, a small understanding smile playing on her lips. The sun was deep orange now, and the light made her dark skin glow beautifully. Harry leaned his head on her shoulder, feeling comforted immediately just by being close. They'd been so distant during the last few days.

"Have you ever gone fishing?" Harry asked.

Hermione snorted at the random question. "No. Why?"

"I'd like to go fishing." Harry remembered the times when they used their magic to capture fish and eat something while horcrux hunting. "Without magic."

"We could see if there's any equipment in the house," she suggested.

Perhaps it'd be good for them to have some sort of hobby and occupy themselves with something nice rather than obsess over something that probably wasn't even real.

"Plus, I sort of miss your burnt fish," Harry added as he moved away from her, preparing himself for her rage.

Hermione gasped. "How dare you!"

She threw wet sand at his head but Harry ducked just in time and counterattacked with his own fistful of wet sand, which barely missed her hair. If he had gotten sand on her curls he was pretty certain he'd be dead.

"You're dead, Harry Potter."

After an hour-long battle, he knew he would never be able to remove the sand completely from some places, but it was worth the good memory they created.