Far away, I feel your beating heart

All alone, beneath the crystal stars

Staring into space, what a lonely face

I'll try to find my place with you

Song Inspiration: Beautiful Love by The Afters

The sun was slowly hiding away behind the trees as the guests began arriving. For the Ministry's cookout, Hermione was in charge of setting up the volleyball net. Standing at 5"8, she had an advantage when it came to the sport, one she'd been playing since she turned 11. Although she'd done this many times before, she decided that it was impossible for her to set up the net on her own after having two beers. Looking around for possible candidates, she didn't see anyone that would be able to help her, just old Ministry officials whose backs would break from physical activity.

Deciding to put a pause in the assembly, she walked over to the cooler and got another beer. She wasn't sure how Mr. Weasley had convinced the Ministry to have a barbeque like Muggles, but it sure would be interesting to watch the officials eating burgers and hotdogs and sipping drinks from plastic cups and bottles.

Somewhere off to her left, Hermione heard groaning and smacking. Walking beside the tent, she watched as Draco Malfoy tried to fend off the mosquitoes.

"Everything alright over there, Malfoy?"

He looked up at her with narrowed eyes.

"I'm in the middle of something. I'd appreciate the privacy."

She smirked.

"Fine, Malfoy. I was going to offer to help, but I guess I'll just let the mosquitoes have their way with you."

He paused.

"Wait, what? What are these?"

"Mosquitoes, Malfoy. They suck up some of your blood and leave you with a red, itchy bump that'll eventually go away if you don't scratch it."

She turned away as he began smacking away at his arms again.

"Granger, wait."

"Yes, can I help you," she asked sarcastically, as she faced him with her brow raised.

He cleared his throat.

"Granger, would you be kind enough to help me with my mosquit problems?"

"Mosquitoes. They're called mosquitoes."

She reached into her pocket and enlarged a bottle of bug spray. He caught it as she tossed it to him.

"Off," he read on the bottle. "What is this?"

"It's bug spray. You put it on your skin and it keeps the bugs away."

"And how do I put it on my skin?"

"Malfoy, I know you're not a complete imbecile. You spray it on your skin and rub it in."

He looked at the bottle in confusion.

She sighed in frustration.

"Take the cap off."

He took the cap off and then looked at her.

"Now what?"

"Holy shit, Malfoy. Are you really this helpless?"

Hermione walked up to him and snatched the bottle from his hands.

"Granger, stop, I still need..."

He paused as she sprayed his right arm.

"Here, hold this," she told him as she handed him the bottle and her beer. He watched in awe as she began using her hands to rub the bug spray all over his arm. Her hands were soft but cold from the beer she'd been holding. She grabbed the bottle, spraying his other arm.

"You know, Malfoy. I've heard that mosquitoes have an affinity for pregnant women. You got something to tell me?"

She looked up at him and smiled. His cheeks grew pink and he watched as she finished up , wiping her hands on her shorts before shrinking the bottle and putting it in her pocket. Malfoy looked at the beer that was still in his hand, and he went to take a sip from it. Before he could bring the bottle to his lips, she took it from him, taking a sip herself.

"Bad manners. I help you with your mosquito problem, and you try to repay me by drinking my beer?"

He smirked down at her.

"I never took you as selfish, Granger."

She laughed as she pushed him ahead of her.

"Let's get you your own."

As they approached the cooler, Hermione downed the rest of her drink.

"Whoa, Granger. A bit too eager for a new drink?"

"Not even," she scoffed at him. "That'll be my last one until I've had something substantial to eat."

Looking in the cooler, he wondered which beer to go for. Sensing his hesitation, she gave out her opinion.

"The Summer Shandy is my favorite, but a lot of people say that's a feminine beer since it has a hint of lime in it. If anything, I'd say go with the Corona."

He bent down to pick up the Corona and attempted twisting the cap off with his hands. He huffed before trying again.

"Here, Malfoy. Let me."

She took the bottle from his hand, but he snatched it back before she could do anything.

"As if, Granger. I'm not going to let a woman open a beer for me."

She rolled her eyes at him.

"You can't open the bottle like that. It doesn't twist off."

He kept trying until Hermione got fed up with him and snatched the bottle away again. Malfoy watched as she put the neck of the bottle against the corner of the table. His eyes widened as she hit the top of the bottle with her hand and the cap came off. He clapped his hands together as she gave a quick curtsey.

"Impressive. How'd you know to do that?"

She gave him a look before pointing to the bottle and then to herself.

"Muggle beer. Muggle-born. Remember?"

As he took a sip, Hermione heard her name called from the field. She looked over and saw Harry, Ron, and a few others standing by a finished volleyball net.

"Come on, 'Mione," Ron called. "We don't have all night!"

She looked back at Draco who had turned his head away from the conversation.

"Go ahead, Granger," he told her as he took another drink. "Go play."

"But..." she said with hesitation, as she bit her lip.

"I'll find you later."

"You don't want to play," she asked him.

It was his turn to give her a look.

"Are we pretending that I know what game it is?"

"It's volleyball, Malfoy. Come on," she said as she grabbed his arm. "I'll show you."

He slid out of her grasp.

"That's okay, Granger. I have to finish my beer anyway."

"No excuse, Malfoy."

"I'm opposed to being wasteful."

Growling with frustration, she took the bottle from him and downed it.

"Okay, problem gone. Let's go play."

He smirked at her dedication.

"Granger, I've never played before. No one is going to want me on their team."

She grabbed his hand and began dragging him towards the field.

"You don't have to worry about that," she said, looking back at him. "You can be on my team."

He laughed.

"I hope you're prepared to lose then."

"You know I never lose, Malfoy. I only choose winners," she said with a smile.

His hands shot out to balance her as she tripped on a rock.

"Granger, how many beers have you had?"

"Why?"

"You better watch out for these old men who might try to take advantage of your inebriated state."

She gave him a weird look.

"Ew."

"Really, Granger," he smirked. "Grandpa over there has been giving you the eyes."

Hermione turned her head to see Mr. Elliott, the 67 year old director of the Improper Use of Magic Office staring at her. She turned her head away quickly before grabbing Malfoy's hand again and resuming her walk to the field.

"I don't think I have to worry about that, Malfoy. I'm sure some people here would stop Grandpa from pawing at me."

"At least Potter and Weasley are good for something," he said to egg her on.

She turned to glare at him.

"Whatever, but not only them. You wouldn't let me get pawed by a grandpa, would you, Malfoy?"

He gasped in mock distress.

"Of course not!"

She smiled.

"Unless, that is," he continued, "that I was the old grandpa doing the groping."

She threw her head back in laughter.

"Come on, Malfoy," she urged, as she walked faster. "It's a beautiful night. We're not wasting it."

What a beautiful smile

Can I stay for a while?

On this beautiful night

We'll make everything right

My beautiful love, my beautiful love