"I believe very strongly that when it comes to desire, when it comes to attraction, that things are never black and white, things are very much shades of grey."
-Brian Molko
Chapter Six
June 16th, 1998. 4 P.M.
Mykonos Bay Hotel
Mykonos
The second letter from Harry was longer, and Jaxie had pecked away at her window until Hermione let her in. The little owl flew over to Draco, landing on the carpet and looking up at him curiously. Hermione muffled her laugh with the back of her hand when Jaxie hopped into his lap, snuggling into him.
"She seems to like you." Hermione told him, climbing back onto her bed while he sat at the foot of it. "Hand me Harry's letter, would you?"
With his back still to her, Draco handed it to her, stroking the top of Jaxie's head with his index finger. "I'm not sure if she was told to wait for your reply, or if she just likes me."
"Perhaps a bit of both." Hermione replied, wiggling the wax seal until she ripped it off. The red seal landed flat against the carpet.
Hermione,
Great Britain is dreadful without you.
Though I suppose you don't want to hear about how awful it is here. You'd probably tell me to look on the bright side of things, which you could do if you would floo call me. I know, I know. You told me not to harass you about this.
I'll tell you a bit of the good parts first. Ron is well. He's put his energy into auror training, and if you were here I think you'd see him in a completely different light. Lavender is well, not anything like the bubbly blonde chit you hated in sixth year. I think you'd like her a bit more now; she's eager to talk to you when you're back because she heard about what you want to do for werewolves, giving them and other magical creatures better rights.
She's not a werewolf, but there are underlying lycanthrope traits that she carries. Or that's what Ron said the healers at St. Mungo's told her. She's asked me to pass along a profuse apology for the incident at the Burrow. She'd have wrote you herself, but she worried you'd burn it without reading it.
The bad news, I told you I'd get to that, but in truth, I don't know how to tell you. No one's died, I promise you. It's the sort of thing I'd rather tell you face to face since you'd know just what to say. Ron isn't much help. He's wrapped up in Lavender and he can't exactly pick sides here.
There's nothing awful to say, just that you're missed here. I think of you everyday, and what you could be going through. You said in your last letter that you've made an unlikely friend? I'm happy for you. Maybe you were right, and a summer abroad will do you some good.
She handed the letter to Malfoy at his request to read it. The part about Lavender Brown stuck with her, and the memories of Greyback chasing her was brought to the forefront of her mind. The narrow scar across her face had given away exactly who Ron had on his desk, but the memory of her boyfriend finding comfort with her didn't bring the ire it had a few weeks prior.
"He seems to be laying it on thick about Brown. Do you think Weasley's gotten serious about her?"
She laid on her stomach, reaching into the floor to grab her notebook from beneath the bed. She'd penned a journal entry last night. "Anything is possible. The likelihood of the two of them being engaged by the time I'm back is fairly high." Because of course everyone who had survived the war was jumping into relationships, letting themselves be led by matter of the heart rather than logic. But was she really any different?
Draco leaned his head back against the wrinkled blanket to look up at her, his hand still petting the owl in his lap. "Does that make you angry?"
"No," she admitted, uncapping her pen. "if she makes him happy, then I'm happy for the two of them. "Judging that Harry and Ginny will not be rushing into a marriage, Molly will be ecstatic. I thought I was going to off myself during the wedding plans for Bill and Fleur. I'm a bit worried about Harry though."
"I don't see why since he's the boy who just won't die." He snorted as she smacked the back of his head. "Have a sense of humor, Granger."
"He's just as hurt as I am. More so even, and while Ron has found someone, I just wonder if Ginny is able to comfort him. Is he alone when he has nightmares like I am? It's hard to know if my being away makes it harder on him."
"You're not his mother, Hermione. You can't protect him from everything, and that especially includes what happens to him while he's asleep."
She didn't point out how many bottles of Dreamless Sleep she'd left for him at Grimmauld Place. "I'm quite aware that he's not my child, Malfoy."
"So stop mothering him then! He's been under the thumb of that red eyed bastard since he was born, and he's still around. You miss him, but have you thought about whether this island is helping you heal as well?"
Hermione swallowed. It wasn't a question she wanted to answer in front of him. The island was breathtaking, and had brought a part of her back. She'd spent the morning creating a list of all of the sights she wanted them to go, starring the ones that she especially wanted to photograph. It wasn't the island that had filled the hollowness in her chest.
It was the smug boy sitting in her hotel room floor as if he'd always belonged there - beside her.
"I could still floo call him. I don't have to cut all ties with home. I know that you haven't. I bet you call your mother everyday."
He rolled his eyes. "Correction: Mother calls me everyday and if I don't answer, she will come down here. And she will find us together. She won't be upset, but make no mistake. It would be in every paper she could contact."
"But why?"
He gritted his teeth. "She fucking adores you and I haven't the slightest idea why."
Hermione blinked twice before she giggled. "You're right, I guess. The last thing I would want is for my friends to find out that way. It would look a bit odd, wouldn't it?"
He shrugged. "All I'm saying is that if Weasley asked if we were shagging, I'd tell him I fucked you six ways from Sunday just to see how red his face can get."
"You're a menace." Nevermind the way her cheeks caught fire.
Harry,
I miss you all. I'm not angry with Ron anymore, and I'm happy that he's found what he was looking for.
I swear to you I would come home, but I might have found what I was looking for. I didn't know I needed anything to help me heal, but I have smiled every day.
I'll call when I can.
All my love, Hermione.
She folded the letter, sealed it and gave it to Jaxie. Draco let her go, watching her fly out of the window. "Was it not clear I wanted to read yours too?"
"I wasn't going to let you." Hermione told him. "Not this one."
"You've let me read every letter even though I'm just curious." He pointed out. "It's none of my business in the first place, but I'm curious as to what you deemed for your eyes only."
"What are we doing today?" Hermione asked, flopping back onto the bed, letting her hair brush the carpet. "They're apparently renting paddle boats today. It's a Muggle thing, but it would be fun if you gave it a try."
"That's what you tell me about everything."
June 18, 1998. 8 P.M.
Scarpa Bar
Mykonos
Ever since they had set foot in the bar, Malfoy had been teasing her for the blush that adorned her cheeks each time Adrian looked her way. It had been nearly two weeks, she couldn't remember as her days seemed to be blurring together at this point, since had had seen the olive skinned Wizard.
Still his face lit up when she made her way to the bar and rested her forearms on the glass counter. The bracelets on her wrists jingled with each movement, and a random blonde Witch nearly knocked her over. "How are you?" Hermione yelled over the booming music.
"I've been good, but tonight is already looking better." He smiled, and Hermione elbowed Draco between the ribs when he gagged. "I thought you'd up and gone home."
"No," she shook her head. "I'm, well we actually, are staying for the duration of the summer. It's not that great in Britain right now. What would you recommend?"
His smile widened. "I'll make you something. What would you like?" Adrian nodded to Malfoy.
Draco waved him off with an easy response, "Just firewhiskey, none of that fruity shite you're serving behind that bar."
Hermione glared at him. "Excuse you, I happen to enjoy those fruity drinks. Your booze doesn't have to feel like it's burning your insides, you know."
Malfoy smirked, catching the glass that was slid to him with an open palm. "You also happen to fancy the bartender serving them, so I think you're biased. Also, if it's not burning a path down your throat, is it really working?" He stepped down from his seat. "I'll be somewhere. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
She missed the bitter bite his tone held. "I apologize, he's still not great around others it would seem."
"It seems like he's not great with sharing." Adrian told her, placing a mixed drink in front of her. It looked delicious, a light pink with a straw poking out from the top. "Have the two of you gone from friends to..?"
Hermione blinked three times before she understood. "Merlin, no." She laughed. "It's sort of strange since he's the last person I expected to run into here, but we've become friends. I think. It's an odd situation, but he's enjoyable to be around, who would have thought?" She took a sip of her drink. "What is this? It's delicious."
He rested his elbows on the counter, leaning towards her with a smug smirk on his face. He didn't wear it quite as well as her blond companion. "It's called sex on the beach. It's a Muggle drink, and a very popular one at that."
"Oh." Hermione said quietly. "It tastes good."
His face was crestfallen at her reaction. It hadn't been her intention, but the forwardness of it all threw her off. "Ah," he began, and it definitely sounded like an apology.
One he didn't owe her at all. "Don't apologize." Hermione told him.
"I thought I misread you." He spoke quietly, so no other patrons would hear them. "Putting the awkwardness of that behind us, would you like to go somewhere with me tonight? The beach is breathtaking at night."
Hermione nodded with a smile, but thought to herself how she already knew how beautiful the island was. She was well on her way to exploring every inch of it with Draco. It felt as if lead had formed in her stomach. "That sounds nice, what time?"
"I leave at eleven. If you'd like to go get ready we can meet back here." He said, reaching below the bar to grab a shot glass.
Malfoy sat at the foot of her bed, a scowl twisting his features. The audacity of Granger to ask him if he minded her leaving him for a few hours while she went out on a bloody date. Fuck no, why would he?
His surly response hadn't gone over so well with the curly haired witch, whose bottom lip trembled no matter how she tried to hide it. Followed by a brisk apology from him, he found himself sitting in her hotel room while she dug clothes out from her closet. He wasn't sure why he'd agreed to help her choose her attire for this date, the word sounded just as disgusting in his head. Oh, but he did know why. He didn't particularly want to admit it though.
The fact of it was that if Granger was going out with the arsehole from the bar that undressed her with his eyes, Draco was going to make sure she looked fucking awful for him. It brought all kinds of realizations, the kind he wasn't going to ponder right now.
No, right now he had a perfect view of her arse while she was bent over in her closet fussing over shoes. He leaned back, bracing himself on his elbows. Tilting his head to the side, he thought he ought to be a gentleman and tell her that her dress had ridden up, but he enjoyed the sight of dark maroon knickers against her pale skin.
She'd look divine in jewel tone greens.
"Let me get one thing straight though," he started. "he told you to go get ready? Did he not think what you were wearing was good enough?"
Her shoulders stiffened for a moment before she pulled another hanger down. "I don't know, Malfoy. I didn't read into it that much. Certainly not enough to believe he was telling me I was ugly."
"You're not though. Ugly, I mean. A bit bossy, and bitchy, but you're not bad to look at." He replied, kicking his shoes off. "You should wear a pair of shorts, it will be hot out." He bit his lip to keep himself from smiling. He'd seen how her dresses, any of them, hugged her curves, and a pair of shorts made her look more like a twelve year old boy.
"I'm not dressing up for him, Malfoy. I doubt anything is going to come of it, but it would be impolite to reject him. Given the way I've been flirting with him too, it's only fair to give him a chance, right?"
He wanted to tell her she should fucking stay here and go for a midnight swim with him instead, revisit the cliff she'd stormed off from. Or maybe visit some of the spots they hadn't been yet, but he didn't. Not in so many words. "If you know it's a waste of time, you should blow him off. My company is more enjoyable. It's like talking to a brick wall with him."
"You don't even know him." She defended, slipping her shoes off, and facing him. "You've met him maybe twice, Malfoy."
"And yet I still know that I would rather talk to any number of Weasley's than to him." He looked away from her, away from the messy curls falling into her face, and stared at the wall. "Which is saying something."
"You're laying it on thick, Draco. If I didn't know any better, I would think what he said about you was correct." Hermione padded across the room, pushing his feet out of her way to pull her suitcase out from under the bed.
There was no use in denying that she grabbed a new knickers set - this one lacy, see through, and dark green - that gave her the impression she was begging to be fucked. For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to coax her onto the bed with him and let him between her legs.
"What the fuck did he say about me?" He hissed, coming back to what mattered at the moment.
She paused by the bathroom door, a pair of black shorts, a tshirt, and her knickers slung over her forearm. "He asked me if the two of us were together now. Adrian thought you were jealous because you were glaring at him from across the room." Hermione bit her lip, showing how hesitant she was to tell him at all, but an image flashed through his mind where he was the one biting down on her bottom lip.
The fantasy did nothing to quell his anger, and his trousers tightened around his cock. "I was glaring at him because he's a fucking prat, Granger."
She gave a small shrug of her shoulders, and closed the bathroom door behind her
He should have denied it, but he hadn't.
And she was too brilliant to miss that.
June 18, 1998. 11:30 P.M.
Mykonos Bay Hotel
Mykonos
Draco had returned to his own room immediately after she left, just in time for the floo to roar to life. "Mother," he snapped, falling to sit on his one bed. His was less comfortable than Granger's. "it's eleven o'clock at night."
"I'm aware of what time it is, Draco. That's no way to treat your mother. What has you so upset?" Narcissa's green tinted face stared at him, one eyebrow arched as it always was when she didn't want to hear a lie from him.
"I'm not upset." He lied between gritted teeth. "I've just had a long night."
She shook her head. "Now, Draco, why would you lie to your own mother? We speak everyday and your mood had improved significantly since your arrival in Greece. An influence I can only assume came from a pretty Witch that's caught your eye."
His eyes widened, and he prepared to shut the floo down in case you tried to come through. "That's ridiculous. The last thing I'm doing is chasing birds down here. I was a Death Eater, and half of the people here are still afraid of me. Even when I've been cleared through trials."
Narcissa smiled. "What has she done that's got you so upset?"
He sighed. "I'm not seeing anyone, Mother. Yes, I've made a friend here, but you already knew that. Yes, she's a woman, one I knew before the war, but that's all we are." He insisted.
"Are you so sure about that? I can only imagine that's because you haven't made a move towards her." She tapped her fingers against her chin. "Again, I can only assume, but I'm sure I'm correct in the fact that the pair of you are closer than friends would be."
"She's grieving. She would latch onto anyone who was here."
Andromeda passed behind her. "Draco, would you just tell her?" His aunt harped. "Where is she right now?"
"She's on some date with a fucking bartender." He growled, and a baby burst into tears in the background.
"And you just let her go?" His mother gasped. "Well, no wonder she's out and about. You haven't made anything clear to her!"
"What would you know about it, Mother? I don't give a shite about who she wants to skip merrily along the beach with." He jumped in his spot as a translucent otter raced across his bedroom, bounding onto his bed.
"Meet me at the lighthouse?" Hermione asked him, and his eyes widened.
Draco reached out, his fingers going through her patronus as is vanished. "I guess I have to leave now." He told his mother.
"Was that a patronus?" She asked, but he'd already apparated out
June 18, 1998.
Lighthouse
Mykonos
Hermione was sitting on the edge of the cliff, her legs hanging off of the side while the backs of her sandals scraped against the rocks. He apparated in behind her, right where they had fallen asleep days earlier. "Hey, Malfoy."
He walked up to her side, his hands in his pockets while he gazed down at her. "Would you care to tell me why your date only lasted thirty minutes?"
She shrugged, rubbing her arms. "Well, if you really want to know, it ended with me casting a bat bogey hex and a jelly legs hex, so I don't think I'll be going back to Scarpa bar anytime soon."
He snorted, bending down to take a seat next to her. "I'd love to hear all about why you did that."
She crossed one leg over the other. "He thought that since I drank a drink called sex on the beach, I actually wanted to have sex on the beach with him. He was completely wrong, and tried to tell me I would like it if I just went along with it. It didn't go so great for him."
He didn't laugh. "Were you hurt?"
Hermione's head snapped up to look at him, but she shook her head. "Not at all, he didn't touch me even besides a kiss. I apparated here and sent a patronus. I just thought the view was too pretty to waste."
"I thought something had gone wrong when you sent me a patronus." He told her. "I was on a floo call with my mother,"
"I give it a week before she knows who that little otter came from. Will that bother you? I would understand."
"What are you rambling about, Granger?" He asked her, leaning back on his hands. "What does it matter to me if Mother knows who I'm spending all of my time with?"
"I just meant..because of what she would assume, and that it will be that much sooner that it gets back to my friends. I didn't think you would want to deal with that either."
He was silent, and he debated whether, or not he was really willing to fuck all of this up just because he needed to know what it was like. "Would it be a problem for everyone back home to assume we're together?"
Her tongue darted out to lick her lips. "Hypothetically?"
He nodded.
"Hypothetically," she stressed. "no, I wouldn't care at all. If you'd asked me that question sooner, I would have been mortified, but now, I.." Hermione trailed off. "Harry and Ron would be furious, naturally, but I wouldn't care. You told me how your mother is more tolerant of all things Muggle with your father in prison, but what would she think?" Her cheeks were flushed as he stared at her, his eyes darker than she'd ever seen.
If he didn't kiss her, she might just fling herself at him. At least she'd know.
"She wouldn't give a fuck, Granger. Hypothetically, of course." He was leaning towards her, though she wasn't sure he realized it.
It might have been her who had leaned in first. "Of course." She murmured. "So, hypothetically, if we were together, we would,"
"If you say the word hypothetically one more fucking time, I swear to Merlin." Draco snarled before cupping the nape of her neck and tugging her to him. His lips were feverish as he kissed her, his fingers knotting in her hair as he molded her to him.
Hermione gasped as his tongue traced her bottom lip, clutching his shirt. "Draco," she whimpered just as he nibbled her bottom lip.
"Gods, that sounds so fucking sweet coming from your lips." He murmured, his fingers trailing against her spine.
Hermione wasn't completely sure how this had blossomed within three weeks, but the warmth pooling in her belly told her exactly where it was going.
