Disclaimer: I own jack.

A/N: Hallo all! I'm glad everyone's being so patient. I'm trying to get new chapters up as soon as they're ready, but I'm taking my time to make sure they are perfecto.

Roses are red, wizards travel by floo, sugar is sweet and so is CHICABLUE!!!

Hermione blinked.

A split second ago, she had stood in the ominous grand hall of Malfoy Manor. Now, she stood on a chipper street. The heels of people walking clicked on the cobblestone and a soft breeze rustled the bright green leaves of young trees lining the lane. The sun shone brightly and warmed her face, making her smile.

"Where are we?" she asked Draco enthusiastically. She looked at him and saw he was squinting at the sunlight. He probably wasn't used to sunlight she assumed. She loved it though. The sky was a robin's egg blue and large fluffy clouds slowly wafted overhead. She heard birds singing in the trees and small hummingbirds darted around the seemingly thousands of flowers growing up the walls of the buildings. She heard laughter from all sides.

"Fina Avenue," he answered.

"You come here often?" Hermione teased. For some reason she didn't see this as the type of place he would go shopping; he'd probably prefer something a little more... bleak.

"Yes, my mother buys all her clothes on Fina Avenue. My father and I get most of ours from Velopá Passage, a few stores up that way," he said, pointing down the street.

"I've never heard of this place. Is it hidden like Diagon Alley?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied, "Most people you know probably buy their clothes at Diagon Alley and The Cotton Groves. The Italian Vistas are mostly used by your more... prestigious shoppers," he said, hinting slightly at Hermione's company at school.

"Neat," Hermione said, ignoring his remark, "I don't really care about labels and such, what looks good looks good." He looked at her and nodded, mostly in trying to end the direction of the conversation.

"Come on, let's get started, we've got a lot to do," He said, leading the way.

"Where all exactly are we going?" Hermione asked, following him.

"We both need to get new clothes, I've outgrown most of mine and you don't have any. I've had appointments made for both of us at Deíju Salon . That will probably take us all day. I have dinner reservations and some rooms booked. Tomorrow, we have a portkey for Diagon Alley and can finish our shopping there. We'll pick up all our school supplies, then head to the Manor for the remainder of the break," he said as they came to a stop outside a small boutique.

"Why do we need another portkey?" Hermione asked, "Why not just take the floo network across town?"

"Well, we are in Italy," Draco said smirking.

"Oh," Hermione said. She had assumed they were in London since most of the wizarding world was centered there. "Italy, how weird," she thought, "Most of Italy is underwater now. All the global warming and fallout from the bombs near the poles had caused the ice caps to melt enough for the water to rise and cover Italy as well as most of the countries lining the Mediterranean.

The entered the boutique. It seemed pretty crowded, as far as snooty boutiques come. Usually they were empty because everything was to overpriced and three or four customers is a crowd. There were probably about seven or eight shoppers in the store already.

"Bonjourni," the shopkeeper said.

"Bonjourni, Signora," Draco answered with a perfect accent. The lady escorted them to a pair of chairs beside each other. They were seated and the lady said something in Italian. Draco nodded and answered in fluent Italian. She smiled and took out her wand. With one flick several magazines appeared. Draco nodded his head at them and she left to help another customer.

"Since when do you speak Italian?" Hermione asked shocked.

Draco shrugged and said, "Since always. My parents are both pretty fluent in a few languages. You just pick it up after a while."

"What all do you speak?" Hermione asked, astonished. All she spoke was English and a little Latin. She had taken a year of Latin in school, but went to Hogwarts the next year, so that was all she'd had. She had considered taking Goblin at Hogwarts, but decided against it and took Advanced Contemporary Wizard History.

"Italian, Russian, French, and a little bit of Dwarvish," he replied, taking up a few of the magazines. Hermione took the rest and began to turn the pages, admiring the clothing displayed.

"How does this work," Hermione asked casually, not trying to reveal she didn't know anything about clothes shopping in a witch's shop. Draco smirked, he knew she was ignorant to the process and was amused by the fact.

"Pick out the clothes you like, then you can try them on and buy what you like," he answered, trying not to make her feel stupid.

Hermione said nothing and continued to flip through the pages. Most of these clothes were nothing like her style. They were all frilly dresses and were all pastel colors, definitely something she'd never wear. She gave up on that magazine and turned to the next. The clothes were a little less girly, but still not her style.

"See anything you like?" Draco asked casually. She closed her magazine and rested her elbow on the table.

"Honestly, not really," Hermione answered. She knew Draco's family would buy her anything she wanted and hated to be rude.

Draco closed his magazine and copied her position. "Me neither," he whispered, grinning as the shopkeeper walked past and gave them a forced smile. "Let's try somewhere else," he said, getting up.

They got up and left without a word, the shopkeeper was busy anyways.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said as they walked down the sunny lane.

"For what?" Draco asked, turning to her.

"Well, I don't know, I just, I don't wear clothes like that," Hermione said nervously. "I've always just worn muggle clothes because they're what I like and my mom and I always went shopping for them in the summer.

"It's okay, I don't care," Draco said truthfully, "I wouldn't want to wear things like that either if I was a girl, parading around like some doll."

Hermione gave him a smile of relief. "You know," she began, "you confuse me."

"Why's that?" he asked stopping and looking at her with a typical smirk.

"Before now, you'd never been nice to me. At school you were always terrible to me and my friends, and now, well, you're, being nice," Hermione said.

"People do stupid things when everyone's watching," he said softly, gazing at her. Hermione looked frustrated; Draco sighed and explained, "Listen, my family has never been a big fan of mudb... muggle-borns and I had to keep that image."

"And why don't you have to keep it any more?" Hermione said, anger growing.

"Times have changed," he said, shrugging.

"Oh, well that makes everything okay then!" Hermione exclaimed, "Hate to tell you this Draco, but my blood is still as dirty as before."

"It's not like that," Draco said, getting angered as well.

"Then what?" Hermione snapped.

"I never hated you Hermione, I never even disliked you, in fact I'd always... always," Draco stuttered.

"Always what?" Hermione asked irritably. Draco looked at her silently then turned and continued to walk. "Hey! I'm talking to you!" Hermione said infuriated as she trotted after him. She grabbed his arm.

Suddenly, all her anger faded. Draco didn't hate her. He didn't pity her. He wasn't doing all this for some image boost. Draco stopped and turned suddenly, locking eyes with her.

"Always fancied you," he said softly, then turned and walked again. Hermione stayed where she had stopped, immobile. He took a few more steps, then stopped and looked back at her. "Are you coming?" He asked, frustrated. Hermione stood for a minute longer then briskly walked to where he had stopped. She looked into his eyes, full of anguish. She reached up and gently rested her hand on his jaw line.

His words from last night rang in her ears, "Hermione, I love you." All he had done and said to her in the past six years had been image; he'd never meant a word of it. She felt that sincerity running through his veins. Maybe he didn't know what love felt like, but what he felt for her certainly wasn't hate.

Hermione said with a soft voice, "Draco, I'm sorry, I'm... I'm just so confused. My head is always spinning, I... I don't know what's happened and what hasn't and I don't know what's going to happen." A tear rolled down her cheek. "I wish things were like they were before this war. I wasn't ready for any of this. I wasn't ready to see bombs dropping and cities burning. I wasn't ready to see my brothers leave and not come back. I wasn't ready for my parents to die. I'm not ready to say some spell and leave everything behind."

Draco reached up and held her hand that now hung weakly on his shoulder. They stood in the shadow of an overhang from the store a few yards away. He wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her against him. He turned his neck for her to rest her head on his shoulder and breathed in the scent of her hair, strawberries.

"Sallright Hermione," he whispered, "There's plenty of time left to think everything over. Just don't worry about it now, it will all work itself out in the end. You're so strong; I don't know what type of shape I'd be in if I'd seen all you've seen. No one should have to live through what you experienced."

"Yeah, no one should have to feel like this," Hermione wept, "I don't want anyone to ever have to feel this way."

"And they won't, not after the worlds divide," Draco replied. Hermione stayed silent. Draco exhaled deeply and held her tightly.

"It's still so weird," Hermione chuckled.

"What?" Draco murmured.

"This; you touching me and me not wanting to push away," Hermione responded, "I'd accepted the idea that you never even wanted to come close to me, much less hold me."

"Just because I never did doesn't mean I didn't want to," Draco said with a small smile.

Hermione smiled as well and they gently rocked side to side, almost dancing. Hermione hummed the first tune she thought of, the one her music box always played.

"Come on, let's keep going," Draco whispered, breaking their bond. He entered the sunlight out on the balmy street. Hermione nodded and gave him a small smile, following him. The walked past a few shops, glancing at window displays. They came to a stop outside a small store. The walls were painted a cherry red and a sign hung over the door that read "Mipsy's Modern Misses: for young trendy ladies."

Hermione grinned at the name and looked at Draco who shrugged. "Worth a shot," she said. He nodded and reached for the doorknob.

"Draco," Hermione interrupted. He stopped and turned to look at her. "I never really got a chance to say thanks, for everything," she stammered.

"'s nothing," he said with a small grin.

"No, it wasn't. You saved my life and are helping me build a new for the one I've lost, Thanks," Hermione continued, "I just want you to know that I really am grateful."

Draco smiled and said, "You're welcome. It's the least I could do, and I enjoy every moment I'm with you." Hermione stepped up and took the doorknob to enter the store. She stopped; however and turned to look up at him, standing close. She stretched up, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and walked into the store. Draco stood there, stunned, but completely happy. A small tinge of pink colored his neutral cheeks as a big grin spread over his face. Luckily, Hermione didn't see, she was too busy greeting the shopkeeper. He quickly shook it off and regained his controlled self and followed her into the store.

"Bonjour!" the owner said cheerfully.

"Bonjour Mademoiselle," Draco responded.

"Well, ze young lady tells me you are looking for some comfy school clothes, no?" she asked him.

"Wee Mademoiselle," Draco answered.

"Oh, no Mademoiselle, call my Mipsy," she said with a smile, gesturing for Hermione and Draco to be seated. "So, my dear," Mipsy directed to Hermione, "What exactly do we have in mind?"

"Just some regular casual clothes for daywear," Hermione responded.

"Okay, we'll let's see, stand up please," Mipsy suggested. Hermione did as directed and stood in front of a large mirror. "You have ze brown hair and eyes, and your skin is a fairer shade, so let's go vich somesing blue," Mipsy said, waving her wand at Hermione. Suddenly, her clothes transformed into a blue set of witch's robes.

Hermione sighed at this. "No?" Mipsy asked.

"I'm just looking for something for daywear. We wear robes at school, so I don't really need anything like this," Hermione said.

"Robes? Since ven do you wear uniform's all day?" Mipsy asked.

"Since always. Hogwarts enforces all students wear school robes during the school day," Hermione explained.

"Oh, Howarts! I ze, vell, let's try zis," Mipsy waved her wand again. The robes changed to a plain three-quarters deep blue shirt with a thin white veil overshirt. Her pants were now back to the comfy black yoga pants she had worn before.

"How's zat?" Mipsy said with a smile, "I apologize, I vent to Bauxbeautan's myself and we only wear our school robes to dinner. Every other time, we are required to wear formal dress robes."

"Oh, well I guess that explains all the frilly dress shops around here," Hermione said. Mipsy nodded and adjusted the sleeves of the veil overshirt.

"And ze length?" Mipsy asked.

"I'd like the white shirt to be full length," Hermione suggested. Mipsy made the adjustment and the veil sleeves stretched down to her wrists and a bit past the hem of the blue shirt. Hermione smiled and nodded at this.

"You like?" Mipsy inquired.

Hermione glanced back at Draco who sat in the corner. He smirked and said, "Whatever you want."

Hermione gave a thumbs up to Mipsy to show her she wanted the outfit. Mipsy smiled and waved her wand again, that outfit then transforming to another. Hermione turned to get the full view of the new outfit, a full-length stretchy skirt with swirling red, orange, and magenta patterns and warm black top. Hermione smiled at this. She was just getting started.

They left about an hour or so later, Hermione now having all her clothing necessities, including shoes, pajamas, and even some new underwear, but of course Draco had to leave the shop for a few minutes while they sampled different panty and bra combinations. Mipsy had arranged for all the clothes to be shipped to their hotel for that night and eventually back to Malfoy Manor the next day. Hermione cheeks warmed again in the sunlight. Draco led her to Velopá Passage a few streets down and finally into a large store with a stone engraving above the door reading "Habbichi Mensware. Since 1500 A.D. Fine clothing for fine wizards." Hermione almost snorted at the sign but held it in; of course this is where Draco and his father would shop. "Guess you can't teach an old dog new tricks," Hermione thought. A skinny wizard led them to the farthest partition in the back. As soon as they were seated a young witch placed two glasses on their table. "Velcome Mister Malfoy," she said with a thick Russian accent. He nodded and she filled their glasses with deep red wine asking, "And who isss your lovely lady guest?"

"Miss Hermione Granger," Draco responded, "She is a close friend and is staying with my family for the remainder of the summer."

The Russian woman tried to hide the smug grin on her face but gave up hope and said, "Very good sir, your tailor will be vich you soon." Draco nodded and motioned for her to leave. She began to walk away, but added last minute, "And Miss Granger, vatever you need, just asssk and it vill be met." Hermione gave her a small forced smile as the Russian witch left, closing a thick velvet curtain behind her.

"Hmm," Hermione sounded, glancing at Draco. He smirked back at her and picked up his wine glass, spinning the wine in the glass to keep it breathing.

"It's her job to be like that," Draco explained.

"I know that, but I've just never been treated like this. What kind of store gives its underage customer's alcohol?" Hermione asked as she picked up her glass and examined its contents.

"What do you mean?" Draco asked.

"Well, we're only 16, we can't drink can we?" Hermione asked.

"I don't see why we couldn't," Draco said, then a realization spread across his face, "Oh, you're thinking of the muggle world. The wizarding world doesn't have age limits on anything, most underage wizards aren't stupid enough to get drunk so it's never really been limited."

"Oh," Hermione said. She'd never had alcohol before. Her parents didn't drink it and she didn't have many friends back home because she was always away at school. Harry and Ron didn't have access to it either; accept for the occasional butterbeer, which had almost no alcohol.

"Cheers," Draco said, raising his glass to hers. Hermione did the same. "To friendship," he said softly, locking eyes with her.

"To friendship," Hermione replied delicately. Their glasses clinked and Hermione had her first sip of wine ever. It tasted like very strong grape juice mostly, and she had to admit she liked the feeling of knowing she was in a refined shop sipping wine from crystal goblets and fancy designer clothes awaited her at a five star wizarding suite. She felt like some sort of Cinderella fairy tale.