12 June, 2010 (Saturday)

By nine the next morning, Hermione sent her Patronus out to seek Malfoy and deliver the message that he'd better know where Rhachel was and that she was safe. Her otter scampered away, unseen by Muggles, but clear as day to any magical folk in the vicinity.

The return message came trundling through the bathroom door as Hermione was showering. Malfoy's white, wispy ferret snarked back in his voice.

"Stop being a Mother Hen, Granger. Rhachel is perfectly fine. With me."

As it disappeared, a strange hitch caught in the centre of Hermione's chest, followed by a very familiar sinking feeling in her belly.

Rhachel had slept with Draco. Apparently, it wasn't the first time they'd done the horizontal tango (as Ginny was so fond of calling it), but still...

Random, unknown women were one thing, but this was her cousin, for Godric's sake. He must have known! Even if no one had overtly told him of their connection, the resemblance Hermione and Rhachel shared was uncanny - at least so everyone in the family had commented when she'd first arrived at her Aunt's home days before. She might be a Granger and have her father's pointy elbows and freckles and honey highlights in her dark hair, but she'd mostly favoured her mother's family's genetics. One look and Malfoy should have picked out that truth that there was some relation there between the two women.

Well, obviously, that wasn't at all a factor in his association with Rhachel. He'd said he'd wanted a brunette for a little fun, and he'd now had one. Probably multiple times, too.

Yes, she was going back to England. This was too much for her to handle.

Gathering up her and her cousins overnight bags, she went down to the lobby and checked out. Then, she met up with her other cousins, as pre-arranged, by the boat dock at eleven for the trip back to the mainland.

She would return to her Aunt's house, and inform her that a work emergency had called her back to London, she decided. There would be many apologies and promises of a return visit soon, and then she'd leave Malfoy behind.

As she stared down into the gorgeous, crisp waters below the ferry, she wondered if it was too late to book a Caribbean cruise instead.

X~~~~~X

Things never went the way Hermione Granger expected them to, especially when Malfoy was involved in a situation.

She'd gotten back to her Aunt's house a little after twelve that afternoon with her lies fully practised in her head and ready to be delivered, only to find Draco and Rhachel sitting down to lunch with the Terezsis. Rather than feeling defeated by his presence, his relaxed, smiling, carefree expression had only fuelled her determination to go through with her false story and get out while she still could. No way was she spending the next week listening to her cousin gush in private about how wonderful a lover Draco was, or watching him touch her cousin in small, intimate ways.

She just couldn't do it. Not anymore. Something had shifted and broken last night when she'd seen him with Rhachel, and now there was no going back. Jealousy truly was the Great Illuminator, wasn't it?

As she opened her mouth and gave her excuses for why she'd have to cut her holiday short and return to England, however, that foul git of a partner of hers poked holes in every single one of her excuses. He countered her every claim, offering solutions that seemed plausible and difficult to argue. Swayed by his logic, her Aunt had agreed with him, as had her other cousins.

In the end, politeness required Hermione not make a scene, so she'd reluctantly agreed to stay for the remainder of her holiday, as planned. She'd steadfastly ignored Malfoy's triumphant smirk, though.

X~~~~~X

12-14 June, 2010 (Saturday-Monday morning)

All weekend Malfoy accompanied Rhachel everywhere, and since Rhachel was Hermione's main tour guide for her holiday that meant her co-worker was continually hanging around and snarking at her. Hermione hadn't had a moment's peace while out on the town shopping, visiting ancient ruins, or taking meals with the two.

In between, the 'love birds' behaved exactly as Hermione had predicted: disgustingly enamoured of each other. They held hands everywhere, they shared secret giggles as Hermione walked ahead of them, and they even fed each other from the same fork on occasion.

Every night, after they'd decided to call the day over, Rhachel would disappear with Malfoy to his private home on the coast ("The Malfoys own properties in several different countries, Granger. We're rich, you know.") only to reappear at breakfast the next day.

There was no need to ask where they went or what they were doing during that time.

X~~~~~X

14 June, 2010 (Monday afternoon)

The stress was becoming too much.

Hanging around with Rhachel cooing over Draco, and he flirting outrageously back was enough to make a horse sick. Hermione felt like gagging whenever they were in the same room, which did wonders to suppress her appetite, leaving her feeling near faint with hunger at times.

The time schedule of the foreign culture was getting to her, as well. The Greeks didn't eat much of a breakfast in general, they consumed a light snack around eleven-in the morning, ate a slightly bigger lunch around two in the afternoon, and then celebrated a heavy, big meal at eleven at night. They generally stayed up very late, too. This was in completely opposition to Hermione's normal schedule and diet, and she was having problems adjusting, despite having been at her Aunt's house for a week.

Then, at lunch that afternoon, Draco said something in flawless Greek to their group. Everyone at the table laughed. The fact that her partner knew Greek at all was a surprise to her, and for some reason, it irritated her as well. Was there anything Malfoy couldn't do with some measure of perfection?

Hermione was about to crack.

"You no like food, Hermione?" Nick the Second politely asked from across the table.

Everyone stopped eating to glance at her, as if worried. Hermione glanced down at her plate, pushing the cucumber pieces in her choriatici –a traditional salad– around, and realised she'd only taken a bite or two of the entire meal. Goodness, she was making a scene, wasn't she?

"Oh, no, it's wonderful!" she stated, plucking a tomato out of the mix and popping it into her mouth, making a production of chewing and enjoying it.

Everyone turned back to their meals and their conversation, convinced that she wasn't ill.

She glanced across the table to find Malfoy's assessing gaze upon her. He didn't look away at being caught staring, but she did feel the heat bloom in her cheeks at the odd sensation that slipped up her spine as their eyes met.

Next to her, Nick the Third (cousin to the other Nicks, and equally as handsome as his namesakes) reached out and patted her hand. "I bring someone you meet today," he told her with a sly smile. "Like Alexio, but better. You like, you see. He good looking."

Oh, fantastic. Another cousin was trying to set her up. Just what she needed!

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Malfoy's fork pause in mid-air, but when she glanced over at him again, he continued to eat, his attention upon his plate.

X~~~~~X

14-16 June, 2010 (Monday afternoon-Wednesday)

Nick's friend, Apollodorus, was aptly named in Hermione's opinion, for the man was a tall, well-muscled, blond-haired, green-eyed gift from the heavens. 'Good looking' didn't cover it; the man was magazine model gorgeous – which is how he made quite a bit of money, actually, as the face and body of an ad campaign for a well-branded men's cologne and for men's clothing.

From the get-go, Hermione and her new tour guide-slash-date hit it off. Apollodorus was outgoing and flirty, much as Ron had been, but infinitely more well-mannered and conscientious of those around him. He was polite, his English was well-practised, and his conversation was quite adept. He had an attractive voice and laugh, and there was a wealth of information contained in that head of his, which he was generous to share when prompted.

As he took her through museums in Athens over the next two days, charming her with engaging conversation and his good manners, Hermione couldn't help but hope that perhaps Apollodorus would be the answer to her holiday prayers. She'd taken the edge off already on this trip with Alexio in a round of mutual pleasure. Maybe now she'd get the sensual, unforgettable experience with Apollodorus... and it would be enough for her to stop obsessing over the unobtainable Malfoy and look towards other, more commitment-interested opportunities.

Because, really, her continued, obsessive staring at Draco whenever he was unaware wasn't in the least bit healthy to continue. He was with her cousin, for Godric's sake. She had to move on.

Speaking of which… The moment their threesome became a foursome, Malfoy's behaviour had noticeably changed. No longer swaggering about or snarking at her, he vacillated between periods of silence, nearly brooding, and overcompensating in his flirting with Rhachel. It was as if he couldn't stand to be upstaged by Apollodorus – which was completely silly, in Hermione's opinion, as Malfoy had the girl he wanted, and Rhachel seemed perfectly content being on his arm. He had absolutely nothing to prove.

So what was with the attitude problem?

And why did his altered conduct make Hermione inexplicably nervous and self-conscious?

TO BE CONTINUED...

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

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Preview of Chapter 7:

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"Granger's better in cooler, more sophisticated colours." He glanced at her through his thick, gold lashes with an inscrutable expression. "Like emerald green." He held up the scarf he'd been examining for her inspection.

"I disagree," she countered, just to be contrary. "I actually prefer sexy Gryffindor red." She answered Rhachel's question before the other woman could even ask it. "Another brand of clothing."

Apollodorus reached for a scarf hidden behind some others, its corner just peeking out. When he pulled it free, he smiled in triumph. "Perfect for you," he declared, draping it around her shoulders.

The shoppe keeper immediately agreed. "Lovely and sensual! Flowers for romance, animal print for passion. I can see it suits you well. Yes, a very fine match made by your boyfriend."

As Apollodorus led her to the next stall, her gaze quickly turned to Draco. He was watching her go, still holding the green scarf in his hands, his face pale and hard with disapproval.

He didn't speak another word to her that whole day.