A/N: Harry Potter and his world belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers and anyone that has received licensing rights. I am grateful she gives us the privilege of playing in her world.

Edited: Proofed and edited the chapter, especially the verbal fight scene at the end. 21 Apr 22

-oOo-

Chapter 2

-oOo-

July 6, 1996

Sark Island, Bailiwick of Guernsey

Harry was taking the cart to the quay to pick up some visitors for Mrs. Baker. Her second cousin and family were coming to the island for a few weeks. It earned him two extra galleons, so he wasn't complaining.

It was late afternoon with a nice breeze flowing down the channel. It wasn't the usual direction, but it helped to cool him some in his nice pants and button-down shirt, but Mrs. Baker insisted on him dressing nice for her clients. He couldn't wait until next summer. He couldn't cast a cooling charm on his clothes without begging his aunt. His Aunt didn't particularly agree with using magic so frivolously.

As the boat came in, he picked up the slate board Mrs. Baker had given him. He hadn't looked at it until the people started coming out of the tunnel. Picking it up, he did a double take, before looking up.

Coming out of the tunnel, he saw a girl who was holding her hair down at the unusual direction of the wind. He would know her anywhere with that mane of curly hair. "Oh, Merlin," he muttered under his breath.

He was a Gryffindor and wouldn't run from this. He held up the sign that said 'GRANGER'.

After a moment, he saw her mother spot the sign and then him. She leaned over to say something to Hermione and the girl spun around to find him. From where he was, he could see her stiffen before relaxing.

A tall man saw them and started to pull them over.

"Afternoon, Mr. Granger, is it?" Harry asked getting down. The cart was made to seat two people per bench with a spot for small luggage.

"It is. Did Millie send you over?" the man asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Afternoon, Harry. I wasn't expecting to see you here," Mrs. Granger said

"Hello, Mrs. Granger. Mrs. Baker asked me to pick up her cousins," he responded. "Hello, ah, Hermione." For some reason he didn't think it right to call her Granger when out of school like this.

She was just looking at him. "What are you doing here?"

"You both know this boy," Mr. Granger asked his wife and daughter.

"I would think so. Hermione has written and talked about him enough," Mrs. Granger said with a smirk.

"Mum," Hermione whined as though it was the worst thing her mother ever said.

"Harry? You don't mean Harry Potter? The boy that is always challenging you in class?" her father asked.

Her face tinged a little and her mother laughed. "That would be him. Excuse my husband. You can call me Jane, and this is Dan, if you like."

The man eyed him. "You don't give my daughter any issues like others do at your school?"

"No, dad," she said, then mumbled something.

"We studied together this year and I don't like any bullies. I am a Prefect, so I try to stop it," he told her father.

She looked at him, almost disappointed. There was a hint of hurt in her eyes. Harry didn't like it, thinking they had made some real progress.

"Yes, well, you are picking us up? A little small to fit three of us in the back," Mrs. Granger said.

"Yes, ma'am," he responded.

"It's Jane. I don't want any of this ma'am or Mrs. Granger. I'm not that old," she said getting into the back of the carriage. "Hermione, ride up front with Harry."

"Are you sure that wise, Jane?"

"I have a feeling Harry is a perfect gentleman," Jane assured her husband.

Hermione snorted and flushed when her parents looked at her. She walked by and said under her breath, "Don't get any ideas, Potter."

As he sat next to her, he said back equally as quietly, "I wouldn't dream of it, Granger."

He shook the reins and the cart started. Hermione tried to sit as far from him as she could. He had to admit he liked the shorts she had on, and the shirt.

"Harry, do you live on Sark?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"Yes, ma… Jane," he answered. "Right across the street from the La Nuit Etoilee."

Hermione's eyes widened. "I thought you lived in Godric's Hollow," she stated.

He shook his head, not letting the sadness come. "Nah. I was born in Godric's Hollow but have been living with my aunt since I was little."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said to him.

He knew she knew what happened to his parents. Anyone in the wizarding world knew.

"If we had known, Hermione could have let you know we were coming," her mum said. "You doing anything this evening?"

"I don't think Harry wants to do anything with us," Hermione told her parents.

"We could use a tour guide," her mother insisted.

"There isn't much to see here. You have a few nice pools to go swimming in. The old church and Monastery. A few craftsmen. That's about it," he said. He knew how boring this island was if you didn't grow up here.

"I could use some quiet. I hear we can rent some bikes or horses," her father asked.

"Mrs. Baker has a few horses she lets out. Her son could show you around," he said.

"I heard William was here. Did you ever meet him at Hogwarts?" her father asked.

"Dad, he was seventh year when we started," Hermione responded. She sounded less than please to be here. Personally, he didn't blame her, knowing most their age found this place boring.

"You know the Bakers are wizards?" Harry asked.

"I just found out not long ago when Millie and I started to talk again. I hear there are a few on this island," Dan commented.

"Yes… Jane," he said. He had to keep catching himself. "Mr. and Mrs. Baker have an inn that services both wizards and muggles."

"I didn't think the Ministry allowed that," Hermione pointed out, sounding intrigued.

"The ministry doesn't need too. We report to the Council of Guernsey," he told her. "They are a little laxer as long as we follow the ICW regulations on the Statute of Secrecy."

"Really? I didn't realize there were independent councils. I've never read that," she said.

He shook his head. She was just as curious as she was in school. "We are one of three independent Councils under the Crown. Since we are a part of the Bailiwick of Guernsey, we can have our own government. The people living here are very protective of that right."

"Why isn't it in the books on the Ministry?" she queried.

"Because we report to the ICW, like the Ministry, but the muggle government reports to the Crown, making us UK citizens. If you want, I can take you by the Parliament." The second he spoke, he had no idea why he would offer. They really weren't friends.

"I think that a good idea," her mum said.

"Jane, I thought we were spending time with my cousin tomorrow?" her father put to his wife.

"We are here for the next three weeks. There will be plenty of time. Let Hermione go explore tomorrow," Jane encouraged.

Hermione seemed to war with herself as he led them through the gap to La Coppee.

La Coppee was a long, narrow roadway that made a sinuous curve along the peak of a ridge that rose over 300 feet from the waters below.

Hermione slid over and grabbed his arm really tight. "Oh, god. We aren't going to fall?" she asked, looking over the side before closing her eyes.

Harry tried not to laugh. "We're safe. Do you not like heights? Is that why you never wanted to touch the brooms first year?"

"It's not the heights that bother me," she said as they made their way across the very narrow cement roadway that wound along the top of the ridge between Little Sark and Sark.

"This is safe?" her father asked.

"Yes, Mr. Granger. The muggles don't know, but the causeway is charmed to keep people from falling or the road collapsing. There, back onto normal land," he said, trying not to laugh at Hermione as she opened her eyes and suddenly shot across the seat.

Her mother did laugh. "Are we almost there?" her mum asked.

"A few more minutes," he informed them. There wasn't any rush here, so he was letting the horse choose its own speed.

"Is there a library?" Hermione asked.

"On Guernsey. We could take the Floo there tomorrow."

Again, he was offering to spend time with her. Maybe he still felt guilty for upsetting her on the train last weekend?

"How about you stay on the island tomorrow. We can go explore Guernsey next week for a day or two. You don't need to hang around," her mum encouraged.

When they arrived, they got out. "Mr. and Mrs. Baker are expecting you inside. I need to go back and get your luggage."

"Thank you, Harry," Mr. Granger said handing him a five-pound note. Harry smiled. "You're welcome. I'll see you in a bit."

-oOo-

Later that day…

Little Sark, Bailiwick of Guernsey

Harry toweled off his hair as he walked to his room. His Aunt poked her head down the hall from the kitchen. "Millie invited us to a private dinner at seven," she said.

Harry shrugged. "She really wants you to meet her cousins?" he asked.

"Who said it is her cousins?" she inquired.

"No one," he replied.

She eyed him as he walked into his room. "I still have to take care of the new lambs," he said.

"Prim and Cork offered for this evening."

"Alright," he said, not usually shirking off his chores, but he was wondering if he could still apologize to Hermione. She still seemed a little stiff to him.

When he came out, Aunt Bel looked at him funny. "A little nicely dressed, aren't you?"

He shrugged again. "I figure new people, maybe a good impression," he told her. "Could you charm my hair down for the night?"

She chuckled. "Is it a cute girl or something," she asked.

He tried to keep his flush down. He didn't like Hermione like that. "It's one of my year-mates," he told her.

This time she did look surprised. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?"

"You didn't ask. I earned two extra galleons picking them up from the Ferry," he told her. That was the important part to him.

She eyed him for a few. "Who is she? I have never seen you act this way."

"No one. Merlin, Aunt Bel, can we drop it?"

"I'll find out soon enough," his auntie told him.

A little before seven they walked across the street and to the side house on the property. A large main house and small annex with a dining room made up the inn. There were eight rooms in the house, and another three in a small house behind the building. The Bakers lived the house to the side.

His Aunt didn't even knock as she walked in. They heard laughing as she called out, "Millie?"

"In the dining room," Mr. Baker called.

They walked in and he saw Hermione in a nice floral sun dress that showed off more of her shoulders than he had ever seen. Her hair had been tamed some and she looked different. He couldn't place it, but she did. He kind of liked it.

"Ah, Belvina and Harry, glad you could make it," Mrs. Baker said getting up. "Let me introduce you to the Grangers. This is Dan, Jane and their lovely daughter Hermione."

His Aunt's mouth made a comical 'O' as her eyes went wide. She looked at Hermione and then Harry, then back to Hermione. "This isn't the same Ms. Granger that keeps beating Harry at Hogwarts, is it?"

"Aunt Bel," he said in a low voice. Hermione looked equally as embarrassed.

His Aunt and Mrs. Baker laughed. "I never realized it was my cousin's daughter all those times Harry complained about her."

"Oh, he did, did he?" Mr. Granger asked, sounding threatening.

"I never said anything bad about Hermione. I only said I would beat her next year," he said quickly.

Mr. Baker laughed. "That's not how I remember it. You were ranting about this girl that beat you at every test the first year you came back."

"That sounds like our Hermione. Why don't you join us?" Mrs. Granger asked them. Somehow, he was shuffled to sit right next to Hermione, wishing more and more like he could just melt away as his aunt and the Bakers told them how he ranted about Hermione.

He refused to look at her as dinner was served. Soon after, the adults turned to conversation of what to do around the island. He figured any hope he had of making amends with her was gone now.

"Could you pass the potatoes," she asked.

"Sure," he said, reaching for them.

He put very little on his plate, his stomach clenching with her next to him. A single piece of mutton, one potato, a few pieces of carrots and a large parsnip where all that made it onto his plate.

They ate in silence. After a bit, his aunt broke their impasse. "Hermione, Harry tells me you are very accomplished in Transfiguration, Charms and Arithmancy. Do you know what you want to do?"

He looked up at his aunt. Fifteen minutes ago, she was taking the mickey out of him.

"I am unsure, Mrs. Flint," she said. "I have looked into somethings at the Ministry, but the only two things that really interest me is working for Creature rights or going into the Department of Mysteries."

"It is Ms. Flint, or Bel, if you want," his aunt said kindly. "Is the Ministry the only place you have looked at?"

"I would like to stay in England, but there aren't really any companies, like in the muggle world, that pay for researchers. I would really love to go to a college, but, again, nothing like that in the Wizarding world," Hermione said.

Harry looked up. He was surprised she had put that much thought into it. His Aunt nodded her head. "You could do something like Harry wants to. He has mentioned a few times of starting a research lab here. Because of where we are, it is easy to get back to England for a day job, or to France. The ICW pays independent researchers for projects. You could be to Stockholm and back when you need," she said.

"Aunt Bel," he said in a tone that said 'not here'. He hadn't told anyone but his aunt or his cousin that was what he wanted to do since last year.

"The ICW funds independent research?" Hermione enquired, sounding interested.

"Ask Harry. He's done research on it," Aunt Bel commented, looking towards Harry.

He wasn't sure to thank her or curse her. Mrs. Granger gave them a look and went back to the conversation with the adults.

"Have you really been looking into having the ICW fund independent research?" Hermione questioned.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. They are always putting out research projects with a decent stipend or lump sum. When I asked McGonagall about it, she was able to get me some pamphlets. Once you get your OWL results, you can put in a bid on a project. I was hoping to use one or two to work on my Masteries. My mum did that."

Her eyes went wide. "You can work on your Masteries before your NEWTs? Where did you find that out? I talked with Professor McGonagall, and she said she would not support my bid until I had my NEWTs."

Harry smirked. "You can't, but if you already have your research done, you can obtain one within a few months of passing your NEWTs. Once you have a Mastery or two, the ICW will prioritize your bid for research."

"Do you have the pamphlets or information with you? If I don't have to work for the Ministry, and do my own thing, that would be brilliant," she enthused.

"I have them at home. You can come over at some point and read them. Or I can see if Aunt Bel will make some copies," he told her.

She gave a brilliant smile, much like he had seen her whenever she discovered something that she had been trying to get in their study sessions. "Brilliant," she said again. "So, what Masteries do you want?" she asked.

"Charms, Transfiguration and Runes," he told her. "Well, more specifically Ancient Magics. Ron's brother is a Curse Breaker for Gringotts. Some of the books he has, and stories are amazing."

She raised an eyebrow. "You want to be a Curse Breaker?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe."

Her head cocked to the side slightly. "What do you mean maybe? I already know I want to focus on using higher muggle mathematics on Arithmancy and work through some of the higher-level charms work that doesn't have any solid theory or other work. Wouldn't it be marvelous to understand why magic can't conjure food?" she asked. "Now, what do you mean maybe?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you do anything except think about what you want to do?"

She pulled back, the light fading from her eyes. Again, he had done something to hurt her. "I go to the theater, operas, ski, and other things."

"I have never been skiing. Would you teach me someday?"

She looked up at him blinking. He felt as surprised as she looked. "You would really want to do something with me?"

"Why not?" He knew most people shunned her at school, but he thought she at least hung out with Lavender and Parvati. He had seen her with them over the years.

"No reason. You didn't answer my question," she pushed. He chuckled. They were both lions, preferring to attack when they felt cornered.

"I don't know. I'd rather make the wards, then break them. I would also like to look at integrating more of the muggle world with ours. Aunt Bel thinks they will find out about magic sooner or later, and we need to either be prepared to fight them or join them," he told her.

Hermione pursed her lips. "You think technology will become stronger than magic?"

"I feel rather certain of it, from what I have seen," he said. "Professor Burbage in Muggle Studies has it all wrong. Magic is not stronger than science. A hundred years ago she may have been right, but not anymore. My Aunt was at a bar in London when they were showing what the United States did in Kuwait." He shuttered. "I don't think any charm would have lasted those bombs, and many wards might have struggled."

She blinked at him for a moment. "How do you know so much about the muggle world? Aren't you a Pureblood?"

He cringed. "Don't call me one of those nasty people. Aunt Bel is considered a pureblood, but she is not one of them. My mother was a Muggleborn, like you," he told her.

She scrunched her face. "Idiot, Hermione. Your mother is Lily Potter. I was thinking of your grandmother."

"You know about my grandmother?"

"Of course. She made some groundbreaking discoveries in charms. The few papers your mother published were genius, and built on some of Euphemia Potter's works," she told him.

"I know. I have some of my mum's and grandmother's journals. It's not the whole collection in my vaults, but it was low level enough for me to understand," he told her.

He thought her eyes couldn't go any wider before. He had been wrong. "Would you show me? I know how important family magic is to your type."

He snorted. "You're sounding just as bigoted as the blood purists," he told her, not trying to offend.

"I am not," she scoffed. "And what about you! Not thinking I should be top of class? You probably think a Muggleborn shouldn't be? Don't you?"

He held up his hands. "I never said that. My mother was Muggleborn and as far as I can tell she was a genius. I only get upset when you beat me because I know I can't match you, no matter how hard I try."

"Right. I heard you complaining about me with a few people just before we left," she told him. Her face looked angry like it had on the train.

"You were listening to my conversations?" Harry accused.

"I didn't need to listen. You were being pretty loud about how a Muggleborn couldn't be that smart in the common room," she accused.

He looked at her shocked. "I don't know what you are on about, Granger. I don't care what your blood is. Your bloody brilliant. That's the only thing I remember complaining about and that was a private conversation."

Harry crossed his arms and turned away.

"That's not how it sounded. I heard Lavender comment about Muggleborns, and you laughed at her," she stated.

"She was making fun of how you and others show up the idiots that think you are morons because you are a Muggleborn. It wasn't meant to be a joke on you. Lavender really respects you," Harry shot back.

Tears looked to threaten to fall from her brown eyes. "I thought she did," Hermione said rather scathingly.

"You know what, Hermione? This is why so many have a hard time around you. You always get offended when it's not about you. Maybe that joke was in bad taste, but it was never meant to demean you. If you had really listened, you would have heard me call her out on the joke. I was laughing at something Dean said just before that. I'm sorry for laughing, but I was having fun with my friends," Harry pointed out.

She looked at him for a few. "You don't know what's it's like," she said softly. "You have it easy being a half-blood. Everyone likes you. No one likes me."

Harry looked at her incredulously. He felt for her, but Harry worked hard. He practiced more than anyone else on the quidditch pitch. He stayed up many times after he saw Hermione go to bed. He was up earlier than anyone, except Neville at times. He was also looked down on by the Blood Purists and those Half-bloods that thought his family blood traitors because of his aunts.

"You don't let anyone like you," he said. "You have to learn to relax. Not everyone is attacking you all the time."

"Well, they are, aren't they! And you encourage it."

"It sounds like things are getting heated over there. You two arguing over who got the better score on the last test?" Mrs. Granger teased.

He huffed. Harry never thought he encouraged anyone to make fun of another and felt offended after how many times he had secretly stood up for her and other Muggleborn. Maybe he let his friends slip at times, but sometimes you had to to blend in. She had no idea how many were leaving her alone now. Or the fights he had gotten in trouble for with McGonagall and Aunt Bel. "Mrs. Baker, thank you for the meal. Mr. and Mrs. Granger, it was a pleasure to meet you. Auntie, I am going to go home. Granger," he said rather coolly to her as he got up. She looked a little confused, as though she expected him to fight back.

"Harry, wait!" she called as he walked out.

"Have a good Hols, Granger," he snapped back angrily.

"Harry! Don't you walk away from me!"

"What!" he yelled and turned around in the middle of the road.

She looked taken back at his outburst, her anger falling some. When she didn't speak for a moment, he let his temper get the better of him. "Listen. I'm sorry for whatever I said on the train to upset you, but I never said anything bad about you and I never thought you prejudice like that! I'm a half-blood, if you really want to put a label on things."

"That is not what I was trying to get at. Almost everyone at school looks down at me for being a Muggleborn. I thought you were the same," she yelled back. "I heard you! After all the time we spent studying this year…"

"Well, you heard wrong! If you excuse me, I would like to get to bed. You don't need to talk or study with me again. I will find another way to get ahead of you and I have chores to do in the morning." He spun, took the couple steps to the door of his house and slammed the door behind him. It didn't matter it was still light out. The sun was setting, and he needed to be up at the first hints of light.

-oOo-

A/N: Sark Island is one of the islands that make up the Bailiwick of Guernsey. It is an independent dependency of the United Kingdoms, meaning it's its own nation that is under the Crown.

This independence will flavor the story, especially since they are not under the British Ministry of Magic.

Sark itself is a small island with about 500 people on it. I have been doing as much research as possible, trying to catch the feel, but have not visited it. For those that like realism, this may not capture the true feel of the island. I am focusing more on the story of Harry and Hermione and using what I can of what I think it would like to be on the island.