Chapter 5

Hermione looked at her reflection in the mirror and looked away in disgust—she looked like shit. The left side of her hair was plastered against her head while the other side was scattered in every direction. One strap of her silk night gown had slid off and was hanging down her chest but luckily, the 12 hour slumber she had just awoken from had kept the eye bags at bay. Disappointed in herself, with her nightwear still on, she walked into the shower and turned on the tap.

The previous day, shortly after reviving from the shock of seeing her airplane fantasy man in the arms of another woman, she had decided to act her age and shake it off. Why should a woman who just survived from getting jilted by the love her life lose faith because she lost a man that was never hers? How dumb was that? Besides, she was sure that the island was crawling with numerous single men who would take great pleasure in making her stay memorable. And as if to prove her point, she noticed a passer by sending her appreciative glances. With the new spring in her step, she left the airport and boarded the hotel courtesy bus along with other guests.

She sat next to the window and as they drove past the green palm trees and odd-looking architecture, she assessed every man she saw, trying to figure out if they had the right look and possibly the right package to be the one and only fling of her life. By the time they arrived at the hotel, she was feeling pretty good because by her count, there were at least 30 men, including the hotel bust driver, who just might be The One.

She was still pleased as she checked in, walked into the elevator and tipped the bell man. But the minute she opened the door to the huge hotel suite and saw red rose petals strewn across the bed with champagne chilling nearby in an ice bucket, she dropped her purse, fell to her knees and lost it. Chris must have secretly arranged the surprise but apparently he didn't care enough to see it through.

She moved her head forward so that water from the shower could cover it completely. The previous day, after shaking the still soft petals off the plush king-sized bed and drinking all of the champagne, she opened her suitcase to unpack. That in and of itself was a bad move because half of the clothes she had brought had been new lingerie she knew Chris would enjoy peeling off her. Thirty minutes later, after releasing her frustration on the room, she sat at the balcony watching the sunbathing guests till she felt sleepy and went to bed.

Hermione pulled off her soaking nightgown and stoop up straight. What the hell was wrong with her? The plan was to come to Aruba and have the time of her life. How did sitting in her room feeling sorry for herself fit? She bet Chris was having the time of his life. As the cool water dripped down her body, she decided that the third time was a charm. She already wasted one day, she didn't have any more to waste. Twenty minutes later, she put on some clothes and went down for breakfast.

Draco looked at the pretty, curly haired girl sitting alone and picking at her croissant who looked oddly familiar. From what he gathered from the whispers from another table, she had checked in alone into one of the honeymoon suites and this was the first time anyone had seen her since then. He watched as she poured milk into her coffee and stirred it.

Because of his job, he couldn't help but study people so even though she was trying to act cool, he could still read the sadness on her face. It was almost like she wished she were somewhere else but at the particular time of the year, they were exactly where everyone else wished they could be. Intrigue, he wondered if he could find out more about her. Something about her curls made her seem so familiar but he couldn't place her anywhere.

As the thought shot threw his mind, he shuddered. What the hell was wrong with him? Even if she had sad eyes and a somber aura, under normal circumstances, it still wasn't enough to inspire him to reach out to a stranger. But those curls. He had seen them somewhere. He never wanted to reach out to someone till now. It was usually the other way around, people reached out to him. Yet, instead of just studying her like he did everyone else, he wanted to talk to her. He wanted know more and perhaps help him figure out where he had seen her. What was wrong with him? He looked at his half-empty mug of coffee and wondered if it was high time he did as his mother suggested and gave up caffeine because apparently, it had begun to play games with his mind. It was his mother's suggestion he come on this vacation under a glamour charm. He didn't need people swarming around him during his vacation.

Granger

"I'm fine," Hermione said into the room phone.

"What have you done so far?" Harry asked from the other end.

"Done, as in?" She kicked off her slippers and lay on her bed. The hotel had done a good job with breakfast; laying out the usual continental breakfast along with eggs, sausages, and some local dishes. She wasn't quite sure if it was a good or bad thing that she still hadn't regained her appetite and had been unable to really sample any of the good stuff.

"Have you gone out yet? Seen the sights? You know, that kind of thing," her friend asked worriedly.

"Oh, yeah, I've seen the sights."

"Really? What?" He replied skeptically.

Hermione sat up in the bed. "Harry, why are you grilling me?

"I'm not grilling you. I just hope you're not holed up in the room doing nothing. We didn't want you to going there alone but sine you did, try to make the best of it. Please, go out."

She looked down and played with the phone cord. It sometimes scared her how well her friends knew her. Hermione hardly thought of herself as predictable of oftentimes, Harry knew what she would do even before she knew if herself. "Harry, I'll try."

There was a long pause at the other end before her friend spoke up. "I wasn't sure if should tell you or not but Chris came by yesterday. He said that he's been looking everywhere for you. He's been calling your phone and he claims that he spent most of yesterday waiting for you at your apartment and when he didn't see you, came here."

Hermione was ashamed at how high her ears perked up on hearing that name. "What did he want?"

"He didn't say but I think he wanted to apologize. And explain things to you. But I can't be too sure. I wasn't too impressed myself because if he really wanted our forgiveness, he would have brought his parents and made a formal apology."

Hermione was about to ask something else when she decided against it. If she found out more, she would only end up fixating on it and she wasn't going to let her stay get ruined by wasting precious time wondering about that man. "Forget about him."

Harry coughed before saying, "I still wish he would have told me what he wanted. Anyway, he wasn't happy to hear you had gone to Aruba alone. I think he was worried. Hermione, I think he still loves you."

No. She didn't want to listen to any more of this. "That's his problem. Harry, stop talking about this."

"Mione, I don't even know what to say. I'm not the best person to advice you on this but I wouldn't want you to go back to him and get hurt again."

"Harry don't worry about it."

"How can I not? You're my best friend. Some things are forgivable but is this one of them? I trust you so I know you will do what's best for yourself. I won't pressure you. Whatever you choose, just know that your friends will support you."

"Thank you."

"Try to have some fun, okay? Don't think about anything and just have a great time."

Hermione showed the hotel employee the receipt she received at check-in. "Is there a group water skiing today?" she asked.

The manager smiled and said in broken English. "Yes, they are waiting for the bus. Are you signed up for the package? What's your name?"

Hermione handed over her receipt and waited for her to look it over and confirm it on her computer.

"I see you're signed up for the all inclusive honeymoon package." She had been in the business long enough to not flinch at a supposed honeymooner vacationing alone. She printed a ticket out and handed it to her. "You will need to show this to the driver."

Hermione took it from her and put it in her purse. "Thank you. What is after the water ski?"

"There will be water skiing, jet skiing, and hang gliding. We usually only go to one location a day then you can spend the rest of the day doing whatever you please. Most people like to go into town and sightsee but some others prefer to spend their time at the pool. So depending on what you want, the bus can either drop you off in town or back at the hotel. But if you choose to into town, when you're done, just call us and someone will pick you up.

Hermione had tried her best to follow what the lady was saying but she was talking too fast and with a thick accent. "Sorry. Could you repeat that?"

"She says that there'll also be hang gliding and if you want, you can go into town afterwards," a voice said from behind her with an English accent.

Both grateful and intrigues by the interruption, she spun around to face the owner of the deep, gruff voice.

"Thank you," she said.

"It was nothing. And I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I was just waiting to speak to the manager."

"There's no need to apologize. Thanks for your assistance." She pointed at the waiting group. "I'd better go ahead and join them."

About a minute later, Hermione felt the presence of someone standing behind her. She readjusted her weight on the couch's arm and looked back,

"I'll be going with you guys," the English accent stranger said, smiling with a smirk she thought looked familiar. She looked at her reflection in his eyes then turned around and observed the rest of their group. Other than the both of them, the rest of the waiting people were coupled off.

She turned back to him. "You're coming alone?" It would have been the coincidences to end all coincidences if he too had been left at the altar but from the length of his hair and creases in his clothes, he didn't look like someone who would have a steady girlfriend; more like a couple every other week.

He nodded. "Why?"

"No reason," she said quickly looking away. Why did that answer suddenly make him look so much more attractive? She hid a smile then stole another glance from him. They were on vacation so he had an excuse for the flip flops, khaki shorts and t-shirt. Even if she hadn't been with Chris for so long, he wouldn't have been that kind of man she'd have looked at once. He was good looking and did appear to have some good height on him and even though she couldn't see much else, his legs looked long and lithe. But on the other hand, he looked like the sort of man who would be satisfied with living in a shack if it meant he got to spend all day on the beach picking sea shells when he wasn't surfing. The kind of man with no real ambition. The kind of man who wouldn't know the difference between a Manet and a Monet. He was just the kind of man that was so very wrong for her. But exactly the kind of man she needed.

She looked ever at his hands to make sure he wasn't wearing a wedding ring and when she was satisfied with what she saw, she stood up straight and stretched her hand out to him. "Hi, I'm Jean." The girl you will be sleeping with tonight.

AN: Thanks for reading and please give me some feedback, I would like to know what you guys think so far.