Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter 33 to J.K. Rowling

A/N: OMGG. It's been two months Ehh such a long time. A lot has happened! I've moved to a new city in Texas, and I'm still getting adjusted. I've been racking my brain forever trying to think of a direction for this story to go in. It's December and I miss working on my old story. I've taken a big interest in Brand New. I adore them. Not so much interaction in this chapter.. Just thoughts from our lovely soon to be..couple?

These days I find for me
It's getting hard to sleep
I lie awake in my bed
And do nothing but think
Sometimes this world
It makes me so uptight
I don't see why its always
Its always such a fight

- Excerpts from "Key Strokes" by Her Space Holiday

Hermione stared at the beautiful scenery in front of her. It was the third week of her vacation, and she had decided to come down to the beach and spend her free day lounging around. She had woken up early and packed a light lunch, ready to spend her whole day soaking up the sun. Hermione set down her towel and settled herself down, drawing her knees up to her chest. The wind blew gently against her skin, ruffling her long curly hair. It had only been her third week of vacation, and her summer was already flying right past her.

She spent her days in a blur of work, reading and occasionally helping her mother and father with her aunt's office. She was mentally and physically tired. She tried to keep herself afloat, to plaster on a smile when here parents were around. But Hermione was drained. Her job had taken a huge toll on her, and in less the two weeks after she had started, she decided to quit. The owner of the shop wasn't that happy, but Hermione had grown restless with the process. She felt as if she were some machine that did the same routine everyday.

Hermione had saved every pound she earned at the job, and decided to put all her savings into a bank account. It hadn't been much of a job, but it had helped pass the time. Hermione sighed as she settled down in her towel, and softly began to close her eyes, and let the gentle lull of the wind beckon her to sleep.

Draco scowled. It was already his third week in Coppingham, and he hadn't seen the Granger. in over a week. It wasn't that he had really wanted to see the particular mudblood, he just felt like messing with someone. His mother would disappear from morning to noon, either having lunch the sociable wizadring societies from Coppingham, or flooing between Greece and the beautiful beaches of Spain with her exclusive friends.

She would often ask Draco to join her, but Draco wasn't in the mood to associate with his mother's endless conquests to introduce him to a socialite from either part of Europe. He swung his feet onto the cold tile floor, and shuffled his way to his bathroom. The house has been eerily quiet since his mother had left a week earlier. He let the hot water pour down his back as he stood in the shower. He wanted to stay there until his pale skin flushed a red color. He was growing restless in such a small seaside village. Nothing exciting ever happened, he had wasted his weeks smoking the sweet flavored cigarettes he had came to love, and spent the warm afternoon under his favorite three in the secluded park.

He was half hoping to run into Granger just to see a familiar face.. The summer was dragging on, and he almost couldn't wait to go back to Hogwarts. But all those thoughts soon vanished when he remembered the Slytherins. He was tired of the people. Of the cliché "OMG I HATE MUDBLOODS LETS KILL THEM ALL". That kind of mentality was enough to drive him up the wall. He had grown tired of that.

After his father had been locked away in Azkaban, he had finally felt free. It felt as if a huge burden had been lifted off his shoulders. The first night that his father had been locked up, he had flown into his spacious backyard and flew on the broom for hours. The burst of air that had gone through his lung had almost felt like a wave of euphoria. He curled into a ball on the soft mushy grass and had stared at the night sky until the first rays of sunshine poke throught the sky.

He almost couldn't believe that was free from the person who he had called a father. His mother had gone almost mad, she refused to talk to anyone except Draco, and spent her days in her bedroom. She would walk out, with her beautiful aristocratic face streaked with mascara, and her pale blonde hair un kept. It hurt him to see his mother like that, but on the other hand he also knew that his mother had felt free for the first time. He never understood his mother; the marriage between them lacked any communication at all. They had lost respect for each other a long time ago, and it was a tense relationship. It had been one of the many reasons why Draco did not trust any girl. Sure, he had a few flings here and there.

Half of them were horrid blind dates that his mother had forced him in. He didn't want to brag about it, but he was an OK looking guy. Draco didn't fall for the big puppy eyes or the fluttering of the eyelashes. The pounds of makeup didn't appeal to his taste either. Draco preferred a girl that had a good head on her shoulders and knew her limits .He didn't break hearts for the fun of it, but he didn't want to settle for any wench that headed his way. He didn't want to believe in romance or this icky love stories that the Slytherin girl would fawn over. He didn't want to marry a pure blood witch to satisfy his family or his status. He wanted things to go his way, and he wouldn't settle for just anyone.