Yet again, Hermione woke face first in the sand, feeling a bit dazed.

"Merlin's beard, this is getting ridiculous" she mumbled to herself as she dusting the sand from her face again.

Looking around, it was clearly late in the afternoon. The sun was low in the sky casting a beautiful orange and pink glow across the water. The beach had mostly cleared out with the exception for a few stragglers who were watching the sun set.

Taking to her feet, she stood.

Why did this keep happening to her?

She had been passed out for hours. She must have been exhausted from all the fighting. Maybe the war took more of a toll on her than she realized. Looking out at the water, a deep calm settled in her.

It was done.

Voldemort was finally dead.

Harry had been magnificent. God's she loved him. He was so brave, so ...steady. She was so amazingly proud of him.

Yawning, she stretched out her limbs.

What was she going to do with herself now?

She almost laughed out loud at the thought, when she paused and remembered. She couldn't go back, couldn't return to Hogwart's or Harry. She strained to make sense of it, but she couldn't piece it together. It was mad. She should be able to apparate herself

home to Harry right this moment, but something was stopping her.

Something was telling her it was impossible, but what?

The flap of the tent door snapped as it waved in the breeze, breaking her thought. Maybe she was just tired and needed proper nap, in a proper bed, not in the sand passed out on the spot. Turning toward the tent, she started her way up the slight incline of the beach, when a loud pop made her jump. She knew that noise. It was a magical noise, the sound of someone apparating nearby.

Quickly she scanned the beach but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe she was imagining it.

She was over tired, was she not?

With one more quick look over the beach, she was about to turn and continue her way back in when she saw him. The blond hair on the tall boy in a white shirt and pants that were being pulled tight against his form in the ocean breeze. It couldn't be.

What would Malfoy being doing here, on her small piece of the world?

In white linen?

Unable to move, she watched as the boy turned and walked directly toward her, his eyes locking with hers.

No!

She wanted to scream.

How could that bastard be here?

He must have followed her. Panicking, she reached for her wand, but then the fear left her when she remembered her wards. Bending slowly, she picked up a shell and threw it in Malfoy's direction only to watch it fall directly to the ground after hitting the invisible barrier just five feet away.

He couldn't see her.

He only saw the illusion of the wards she had placed around herself. Still

she stood unmoving, never breaking his gaze until he walked directly into the invisible wall. For a moment a look of confusion flashed on his face and then he dropped to the ground heavily. Pulling his legs up to his chest, he wrapped his arms around his knees and dropped his head.

Taking a step closer, she moved to his side to get a better look at him. He looked tired, distraught. A pang of sympathy stung at her and for a moment she wanted to reach out and comfort him. But no, this was Malfoy.

Her childhood enemy.

Although…although, she remembered he did save her life in at Malfoy mansion. She distinctly remembered feeling grateful for his denial through all the pain.

She was only inches from him, on the invisible barrier separating them. She had never been this close to him before. He looked so different outside his constant black clothes he normally wore. Somehow he seemed almost…likeable. Vulnerable. Soft, not

hard and distance as she had always known him to be.

Sitting on the sand only a breath away from him, she watched as he covered his face with his hands and let out a sob. How her heart was breaking for him, she hardly understood, yet tears were forming in her eyes as she watched his unbidden anguish. The war had taken its toll on a lot of people and she could not imagine all he had endured living under the same roof as Voldemort himself. He was after all, just a boy under the influence of his evil father. He had no other influences to live by, not other choices before them.

Would she have turned out any different if she had been unlucky enough to be born to a Death Eater herself?

Would Harry?

The war was over now though, and it was a time for healing and long awaited peace. Something every one deserved, including Draco Malfoy. Unable to stop herself she reached out to him, but before she could place her hand on his shoulder as she intended, he rocked forward.

"Hermione," he sobbed softly, "please don't be dead."

Snapping her hand back, she gasped.

"What?"

He didn't answer.

"Malfoy!" she called.

He couldn't hear her. The ward, for a moment she had forgotten it was there. She would not have even been able to touch him like she was intending.

Should she drop the ward, find out what he meant?

She didn't like the thought of being exposed. At least with the ward, she knew she was safe from all eyes, all intruders, yet there was something in his voice...in his pain. Her curiosity and sympathy getting the best of her, she pointed her wand "Finite Incantatum." There was no sound, no perceivable change in her surrounding, yet when she reached out to him, her hand landed on his shoulder without resistance.

"Malfoy…" she whispered softly when she touched him.

In an instant he was on his feet, spinning around to face her. A look of confusion and astonishment flashed on his face.

"Granger" he whispered back almost breathlessly before gripping her shoulders fiercely, "What are you doing here?'

"I.." she stammered. She really couldn't recall. "I would ask the same thing of you. Were you following me?"

"Why would I follow you, of all people" he spat.

Flinching at the lace of hatred in his voice, she squirmed to get out of his grip.

"Leave then, go away Malfoy"

"You didn't answer me. Why are you here Granger? Don't you know they're looking for you?"

"I'm here because…Who's looking for me?" she paused.

"Practically the entire wizarding world. They think you have disappeared and they think I've kidnapped you" he added, his eyes growing large. As if shocked his flinched his hands away, letting her go.

"Why would they think you have kidnapped me?" she spat in a laugh of incredulity.

"Why? Because I'm me. Do they need another reason?" he answered bitterly. Sadness clouded over his eyes as he looked at her somberly and again pity filled her.

"I thought you were dead. The newspapers…" he whispered staring at her.

It was as if all his energy, all his fight left him in that those words, leaving him standing there pleading to her with his eyes. Stepping forward, never taking her eyes off of his, she tentatively reached for his hand. For a moment, shock flashed over his face before he grasped it and squeezed gently.

"I think we should talk. Let's go have a sit" she suggested, nodding up toward the tent. He only nodded then looked at the tiny tent on the beach.

"Where did that come from? Wards?"

"Yes, of course. If you don't mind, I'm going to set them again. I'm just not comfortable yet. I realize the war is over, but that doesn't mean there aren't rogue dea.." she caught herself before finishing the sentence.

"It's alright Granger. I'm sure your right. Go ahead, I'll just wait by that…that thing up there"

"It's not a thing, it's a tent Malfoy. Harry and I had lived in it for months"

"Really? Under there? There's not much to it."

It did look pitiful from where they stood, but she knew better. Smiling she turned her back on him, she started her chants, resetting the wards. Once satisfied she joined Malfoy at the tent and pulled the flap open.

"You sure about this? We have a whole beach we can be sitting on"

"Just go, Malfoy" she insisted, pushing him through.

Once inside, he stood, mouth agape looking around, reminding her strongly of Harry's expression years back at the World Cup.

"Haven't you ever gone camping?"

"My parent's aren't the camping sort"

"Yes, well. This is a bit different from the kind of camping I grew up with myself. Back home, what you saw was from the outside was what you got in the muggle world"

"People actually would sleep under that thing"

"Yes" she laughed, "All the time."

Suddenly silence filled the room and he was staring at her again, as he had while he had held her hand a few minutes ago. Nervously, she wiped her palms on her pants and looked around the room. Glancing at the woodstove, she quickly used it as an excuse to move away from him.

"Please, sit" She motioned to the chairs, then reached for the nearby log to add to the fire.

"Are you going to answer me?" he asked sitting on the couch.

"What exactly do you want to know?"

"Why are you here?"

"I don't know. I just felt the need to get away. The war is over, and I'm tired."

"I thought you would be a little upset. Distraught actually." Concern creased his brow.

"Distraught? Harry won. It's wonderful! I'm just tired, that's all"

Suddenly he was fidgeting in front of her. Scooting closer to her, he took both her hands again. Conflict filled her. He was being so…nice, so Un-Malfoy. She liked this side of him, felt strangely comfortable with it, but he was still Draco. Still Malfoy who had made it is his personal goal to harass her every chance he got since she met him.

"I can't believe I'm the one to tell you this."

"Tell me what? You're scaring me Malfoy"

"I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you again, but I see no way around this."

Oh no. Had she left Hogwarts too early?

"Harry?" she asked shakily, fear washing over her.

"Harry's fine. It's Ron, Hermione. Ron's dead."