Disclaimer

I do not own any of the characters in the story. They all belong to J K Rowling. Lucky her, huh? Well… what's yours will be yours. What's mine will eventually be mine. *smiles* So… let's get on with the show! Please remember to read and review, all right? Thanks!

From the previous chapter

Draco suddenly turned around swiftly, ignoring his aching back.

"Who the hell do you think you are, questioning me like that? You have absolutely no right," Draco half-shouted.

Hermione cowered back, afraid to look up and meet the midnight blue flecks in his gray eyes welcoming her. She looked down, fearful of what he might do to her.

He was right. She had no right. None at all. So why was she asking him the exact question. She knew she had to have the answers, but somehow, she didn't want to hear it from him.

She finally looked up.

"You're right. I am no one. and I have no right," she whispered. Draco looked surprised at her easy acceptance of his temper. He thought for sure that she might just flare up in his face.

But Hermione continued. "But is it really wrong to care?"

With that, she turned around and walked out of the hut.

Draco felt the fury in him dissipate quickly. He suddenly felt strange. Not anger, nor fear. He felt warm and comfort in place of other emotions. He tried holding his tears back, but he couldn't. He attempted to stand on his head. The pain inside and outside combined was too much.

Care? Nobody had done that for him. Not his so-called close friends. Let alone his father. His mother had cared. And in the end, she got more than cares. She got whips. Was that fair? Draco couldn't tell at a young age, neither could he now.

Care. He felt this word caressing his soul and muttering nonsensical words to it, as if soothing it.

He wondered what was it that made Hermione care. He wondered and wondered until he felt that his tears had dried up on his face. He had tasted the salt in his tears and all he could feel then was sweetness.

For once, then. Just once, in his lifetime. He wanted more than care. He wanted love.

Checkmate

Hermione sure didn't 'care' for him long enough, or so Draco thinks so. That morning, she practically dragged him out of his make-shift bed and told him to get his sun-fried butt out in the sea. Draco looked at her in disbelief.

"In the sea?" he asked incredulously.

Hermione nodded half-heartedly, while rummaging through his trunk.

Draco was too shocked to stop her.

"Out in the sun?"

Hermione nodded once more, leaving Draco feeling like he could wrench her neck at any time.

Draco opened his mouth to ask her whether she knew of anything called privacy, then decided against it almost immediately. That woman could be as daft as a donkey. Sometimes, Draco even wondered if donkeys could possibly be smarter than her. He didn't even want to arrive at that hideous thought.

Instead he demanded her to stop looking through his trunks.

"Stop looking through my stuff," he commanded.

"I'm looking for something for you to wear," she answered, while rummaging through his other trunks. That boy had too many clothes, she thought. He was just too vain.

Draco watched as she practically tossed every clothing of his out in the open. She did blush when she came to his under-things, but after a few embarrassing seconds, she didn't seem to mind at all and started to toss them out, too.

Draco felt himself stand up and then, his skin stretching. He stayed in that hunched position until he could feel the discomfort pass him over. He looked up at the first thing he saw was Hermione's firm butt.

He took his own sweet time taking in her appearance that morning. Today, she was wearing a pair of shorts and spaghetti straps. Her shorts were damned short today, Draco decided, and he thought that he had never seen anything so appealing before.

Unfortunately, Hermione turned and at that moment, saw Draco staring at her butt. She quickly turned around and gave Draco a good frown before smiling and showing him a pair of shorts.

It was no ordinary pair of shorts. It was the most horrible one Draco had ever had. He didn't even remember packing it in. Then he reminded himself that it was probably the stupid and dumb house-elf that had packed it in for him. He swore that he was going to murder that elf when he gets back. if he gets back alive from the humiliation he was sure Hermione would shove into his face.

Hermione seemed to beam with pride as she showed him the pair of shorts.

"Wonderful, isn't it?"

Draco raised a well-defined eyebrow. He was about to launch into another full-fledged argument with her when he realized that she didn't find it hideous at all. If he shouted his denial, she would then realize what he's embarrassed about and then record it in her super memory for later use.

Draco forced a smile which he thought looked absolutely fake and said yes to Hermione's ridiculous remark.

Hermione thought the pair of shorts she had found was just perfect for a swim. She thought it looked hideous, but didn't say so. She reasoned that if she did say so, then Draco would then never wear it and then he would never get into the sea.

Then Hermione would feel guilty all over again, repeating the cycle that had invaded her life since she had snatched his clothes. Or rather, since he got sun-fried.

Draco seemed to have forgotten her first remark when she had given him such a rude awakening in the morning.

"Beautiful morning, isn't it?" she remarked in a cheerful tone.

Draco finally realized what she was getting at when she shoved the terrible and unbelievably ugly pair of shorts into his arms.

"Change into it. Your shirt can stay."

Draco started shaking his head, then realized that he had one choice if he argued with her at that moment. It was to carry on with that particular argument for the whole day.

Either way, he would have his bones aching and that also means more skin stretching.


He sighed. Might as well get it over with, he thought.

Boy, was he ever wrong.

Hermione swore that she would drag him by the ankles if he didn't go into the stupid water.

It wasn't yet noon; only an hour had passed. Draco felt as if he had just celebrated his sixtieth birthday.

"Please, stop." Draco pleaded.

Hermione's grin grew wider as she shouted her denial over the rather turbulent waves. It was high tide now, and Draco swore to her that if he couldn't go back then, he would just let the backwash pull him into the sea. And he would jolly well stay there, not even if she dragged him by the ankles.

His only reply was a smile, followed by Hermione's tinkling laughter.

He stood awkwardly in the sea, poking his toes tentatively in the wet sand. He was determined not to move an inch, just to prove his point. He might not let himself get dragged into the sea, but he would not move either. He wouldn't let Hermione get her way, no matter what.

Hermione tilted her head to one side and looked at Draco quizzically. What was he up to now? Hermione thought, as she slowly ran her fingers through her wet and tangled hair without realizing it.

Draco realized it though. For a moment, he continued standing there even when Hermione walked towards him. It wasn't to prove his point. He was just too fascinated to move any further. Hermione was running her long and sensitive fingers through her wet hair and Draco thought she looked wonderful as she cocked her head and fixated all her attention on him. Her warm brown eyes had a certain glint in them and Draco was sure that it was mischief mixed with happiness.

He then noticed that Hermione was just standing in front of him, their faces inches apart.

"Hey," she whispered seductively.

Draco's eyebrow twitched. She had a whole new attitude now and Draco was sure that she was up to her usual something, but he couldn't quite put his finger around this strange feeling though.

He did feel a different kind of ache though. Different from the usual ache he got from his bones and skin.

He couldn't help but wonder if it was from that well protected locket he had hidden deep within his rib-cages.

Hermione smiled slowly and her eyes fleeted over his face deliberately.

She moved closer and a part of Draco wanted to move away and run yet the other part of him, the major part, made him stay where he was. Now, their faces weren't just inches apart, they were inches closer.

Her mouth nearly touched his, and the both of them could feel their breaths on each other's faces, reminding the both of them that they were still breathing.

Especially Draco. He suddenly felt as if someone had been given the key to his locket. And that someone might just be him.

Hermione looked deep into his gray eyes and almost forgot her plan. She wasn't a straight A student for nothing. She could keep her attention focused damn well and she knew it, thus the plan.

Still, as she saw her own reflection in his gray eyes, she couldn't help but tiptoe a bit to nick his lower lip. God's truth, it was too soft.

Draco could have let his jaw drop if he had the strength.

He bent his head down and proceeded to kiss her. Hermione let him.

Faced with such distraction, she couldn't help but let her plan delay for a little longer.

She smiled as Draco's mouth took over hers almost possessively. His kiss was hot, demanding, yet tender and gentle all at the same time. How Hermione loved it. She didn't know that she had it in her until the passion in her felt its own release.

Draco's mouth slanted over hers over and over again. Some logical part of her told her to get on with her original plan and stop the smooching. But that part couldn't out-win the illogical half.

Finally, when their tongues touched for the fourth time, it was seriously time to come up for air, or the both of them might just suffocate from lack of air. However, Hermione thought that she had just died and gone to heaven.

Draco looked at her swollen lips and resisted every urge inside of him to kiss her once again. He needed some self-control lessons. He never knew he had lacked them.

He then looked around them and realized that they were lying down in the sand. He didn't even know how they got there, and with a slight arrogance, he decided that Hermione was enjoying his kiss too much to notice her surroundings.

Hermione looked around and smiled. Perfect, she thought. Perfect to execute my plan.

She placed her body on top of Draco's and Draco tried his best to ignore her tempting weight and body just above his.

She looked closely at Draco and smiled a slow smile. She leaned in closer once again and locked her arms around his neck. Draco couldn't hide his surprise, but he was sure that Hermione couldn't see it. Her face was buried in his silvery-blond hair.

He tentatively placed his arms around her tiny waist and when he did so, he tightened his hold and smiled contentedly. He wondered if they could stay in the sun like this. Then he remembered, the sun. His body suddenly, miraculously recovered.

He would have believed anything else in the world. Anything, everything, except the fact that Hermione was his miracle. She had made him open up, made him unscrew the tight cork that confined all his feelings. She made him new. He refused to believe it. he was too afraid that it just might be true.

A few seconds later, if he knew what was coming at him, he wouldn't have thought so.

Because at the very moment a few seconds later, Hermione had whispered his name softly and when he answered with a "yes?", she had bit his earlobe. Softly, not enough to hurt him. yet the next statement amused him long and well enough.

She leaned in closer and whispered gently into his ear.

"Checkmate."