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It was an extraordinarily windy day. It was near sunset, actually, and Hermione Granger was about to witness it. The wind caused numerous large waves that slammed against the shore and the nearby rocks.

Not many people were out watching the waves with Hermione on the beach. After all, this island was small and unplottable, so not many knew about it. Hermione observed the people around her. There was an elderly couple, the man's arm around the woman's waist as they stood away from the putrid seaweed. There was a man with a video camera filming his children's newly finished sandcastle. The last two people were lovers, both young, but not as young as a teenager. The duo sat on a large rock together, the female leaning back against the male's chest as he held her close.

Watching this, Hermione wished she were loved. Yes, romance was what she was thinking about the entire time she sat on that low, small rock, staring at the golden horizon. She wasn't thinking about the moon's affects on the tide or something along those lines, as everyone at Hogwarts would've expected.

She was lonely. Not many people would understand that. After all, she had her books, and they were her best friends, the only things that never failed her. But she wanted more. She wanted love, even if she knew it probably wouldn't be coming soon, so she settled for the best thing: her friends, both books and people.

She had a lot of friends, even if she was a bookworm and constantly teased about it. She had her roommates, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. She had her older friends, Hagrid, Lupin, and perhaps even Dumbledore was classified as a friend. She had friends from other houses, from Susan Bones of Hufflepuff to Mandy Brocklehurst of Ravenclaw, and from Morag MacDougal of Ravenclaw to Sally-Anne Perks of Hufflepuff.

She had Tom from the Leaky Cauldron, Sarah, a bookseller at Flourish and Blotts, and Madam Rosmerta from Three Broomsticks. She had Dobby and Winky, Crookshanks (still at home with her parents), Hedwig, Pig, Errol, and so much more.

She had the entire Weasley family: Ron (obviously), Ginny (her best girl friend), Fred and George (who could live without their pranks?), Percy (he was just like Hermione in a way), Charlie (dragons are fascinating!), Bill (hard core!), Mr. and Mrs. Weasley (who treated her just like family, as well as asking about Muggles every few seconds), and even Kreacher (but he stayed away from the family most of the time).

And then she had Harry.

Harry.

He was Hermione's best friend, her ticket to somewhat popularity. Sure, popularity didn't matter, even if it resulted in all those friends, but ever since she read about Harry in MODERN MAGICAL HISTORY during the summer when she was nearly eleven, she knew that he was special. Well, of course he was special, the entire magical world knew that. But Hermione knew he was special in another way, not in the way everyone else saw him, the savior and Voldemort's destroyer. She thought more highly of him, and probably more preferable to him as well.

She admitted to herself that she had more than friendly feelings for him ever since she first laid eyes on her best friend, and she didn't mean Ron. She loved Harry dearly, but in a friendly way. She wasn't sure what her feelings for him were exactly (less than love but more than a crush), but she knew she cared deeply for him. She wanted to impress him, which was the reason why she studied so hard, and she wanted him to be happy, the reason why she praised him and helped him as much as she could without spoiling him.

The sad thing was that Harry probably didn't have any feelings in the romance department whatsoever for Hermione (even if he occasionally flirted with her, but Hermione thought he was just teasing her all those times). So she did the only thing she could do.

She gave up on him.

She gave up, but she still had those feelings. But she stopped overworking herself, following him around (not in the stalking way though, mind you), and trying to get him to like her. She was fairer to Ron (praising him as well as Harry), she spent more time with girls nowadays, and she barely daydreamed about him anymore.

Until now.

She had invited Harry, Ginny, and Ron to stay with her at her beach house on Carthos Island while her parents stayed back home in London, but only Harry was able to come. Ron and Ginny went on vacation to visit Charlie in Romania, and the Dursley's were forced by the Order (now having nothing to do all summer, now that Voldemort was gone) to let Harry go after one month into the holidays.

Hermione, wanting to have more free time to herself, asked her parents if she could arrive at the beach a week earlier than she planned to meet Harry, and they, seeing as they were going to be busy all summer at their dentist's office, dropped her off about an hour before she sat on that rock, watching the sun set.

Hermione wasn't necessarily daydreaming about Harry, but she was thinking about him. She was thinking about how much pain she felt when he took an interest in Cho Chang, who was now one of her good friends even though she wasn't at Hogwarts anymore. It hurt her a lot to find out that he kissed her back in Fifth Year, but she felt slightly relieved when he told her he wasn't seeing her anymore, or at all, really. Cho had also told her that she felt terrible for treating Harry like that, even if it was really he who kissed her, and the only reason she really took interest in him was because Cedric had died.

Hermione sighed. She looked at the beach's other occupants before her, the wind blowing her hair gracefully around her face and the smell of saltwater lingering around her nose. The man with the camera and his children were already gone, the sandcastle still standing and forgotten. The couples remained on the beach, watching the slowly yet noticeably setting sun.

The ball of fire was half down by now, and it was easy to stare at without being blinded. The sun was a sliver of orange disappearing behind the gray ocean line. It soon looked fuzzy, and its outline was uneven. The bright orb was gone completely in a matter of seconds, but the purple and pink horizon remained, clashing against the sun's golden shine.

Both couples headed inside now, for the sun was gone and it was getting colder. Hermione's fingers were numb as she clutched her sweatshirt-covered arms tightly. She inwardly cursed herself for forgetting to bring her hair ribbon; her soft curls blew into her large chestnut eyes. She wanted to push them away, but that required her fingers, which were, at the moment, frozen because of the lack of gloves or any protection from the cold.

Hermione was alone on the beach now.

Or so she thought.

A large warm jacket covered Hermione's freezing shoulders. She looked up, startled. She turned quickly to look at the person who gave her the jacket.

Oh no, she thought, not him!

But instead of actually saying something, she just stared at the person.

And he smiled.

"Sorry," he said to her, shrugging. "I just came out here for a while and saw you by yourself." Another shrug. "You seemed cold."

Hermione clutched the jacket and stared at him.

How can he be here? How can both of us know about this island?

"Why are you helping me?" she asked, still astonished.

He shrugged (yet again). "I wanted to. I know it's a bit strange having a random person walk up to you and give you his jacket, but we're the only one's on the beach, and I was hoping for some company."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. He doesn't recognize me?

"Company?"

The teenager shoved his hands in his pockets. "I�I've never been here before, and I�I need a guide and someone to talk to on this island. I guess you just kind of looked close to my age, so I decided to try and talk to you."

"Oh."

There was a few seconds of silence.

The young man cleared his throat. "Um�I know this conversation must be a bit awkward, but�can I sit down?"

Hermione looked up into his stormy eyes. She nodded. "Sure." She scooted a bit on the rock to give him room to sit. Then she looked back down at her feet.

Why is he being so nice? Why doesn't he know who I am? Why is he even here?

The male sighed. "Don't you even want to know my name?"

Hermione remained silent for a second. She knew she shouldn't say this, but she knew she wasn't going to get anywhere if she pretended she had no idea what he was talking about. "I already know your name."

The man stared, his eyes widening. "You know my name?"

Hermione nodded, not looking at him. "Your name�your name is Draco Malfoy."

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Draco stared.

How did she know his name?

He definitely didn't know her; he would've remembered a girl like that.

She was a very pretty girl, another reason why he chose to talk to her. Her figure was hiding under her bundles of clothes, but Draco knew that didn't matter anyway. She was a beautiful girl, and he knew that when he first saw her, sitting on this very rock, that she was deep in thought and her eyes glazed over, showing that she was observant and intelligent.

He wasn't lying before either. He really didn't know anyone on this island, let alone know where everything was. He needed someone who did know all of that, someone who could show him around. He didn't know if this girl was that someone, but he could take a chance, right? She had her own story, and maybe he could be in a part of it. As soon as she said his name, he knew he already was.

"How�" he started, "�how did you�"

The girl shook her head. "I assure you, Malfoy, you don't want to know."

He looked at her questionably. "Malfoy? I don't know who you are, but you're already calling me by my surname."

The young girl sighed. "You know who I am-"

"No, I really don't."

She glared. "I wasn't finished. You know who I am, but you don't know that I am that person."

Draco was clueless. "Huh?"

"Basically, if I told you my name, you'd know who I am."

"And you won't tell me who you are because�"

The girl smiled. "Guess."

Draco was alarmed. "Guess? The reason or who you are?"

"Who I am."

"Well�give me a clue."

"Hmmm�" the girl started, obviously thinking about a good clue that wouldn't give herself away. She made sure no one else was on the beach, making sure it was safe to say the next part. "Well�I go to your school."

"Hogwarts? �What house?" Draco asked, running a hand through his hair (not gelled back, just as he like it).

The girl rolled her eyes. "I can't tell you that! It'd give me away! But I'll tell you something: I'm not in Hufflepuff."

Draco guessed that. She didn't seem like the Hufflepuff type. In his opinion, Hufflepuffs were all stupid, most of them well fed and na�ve. She seemed smart, and, although she definitely had no eating disorders, she wasn't even close to being overweight.

"Well�how about you answer all my 'yes or no' questions?"

The girl sighed, "Fine."

Draco smiled. "Okay, then. Are you in Ravenclaw?"

The girl glared at him humorously. She was obviously not mad about what he just said, but amused. "That's cheating!"

Draco shrugged. "Well, you said you'd answer me."

"Whatever."

"So�are you?"

"In Ravenclaw? No!"

Draco thought. She was definitely not a Slytherin, that was for sure. He knew everyone in Slytherin, girl or boy, no matter what year they were in.

"Okay, then, are you in Gryffindor?"

The girl was silent for a few seconds. "So what if I am?" she asked quietly. Draco looked at the girl. She seemed scared of him, scared of what he would do now that he knew she was in his most hated house.

"Look, I'm not going to do anything to you, alright?" he tried to reassure her. "I guess�" Draco thought. He needed someone to show him around the island. He couldn't offend this girl. Maybe he could kind of suck up to her until he found out who she was. Maybe he could just be nice to her for a change (seeing as he knew he was probably mean to her at some point; he was mean to all Gryffindors). Maybe he could drop his image now that he was on an unknown island and be a regular, non-hated person for once. "�I guess Gryffindor's not really all that bad."

The girl stared at him with shock. Draco knew he surprised her with his answer, he being the prince of Slytherin and all.

Draco smiled and shook his head. "Can I keep guessing now?" he whined, teasing her.

The girl's lips turned upwards. She chuckled silently. "Yeah, whatever."

Draco grinned. He was already on her good side. "Okay�are you in my year?"

"With these questions, you'll know who I am in two minutes."

"That's the point, and if you're a good girl and answer my questions, I'll figure it out sooner."

The young woman laughed heartily, but softly. "Then, yes, I'm in your year."

It was all up to guessing now.

"Um�Patil?"

"No, and you weren't being specific. There's two Patil girls, smart one."

"Let's see�"

Draco studied the girl's features closely. Her skin was creamy, her brown hair wonderfully curly and shiny. Her nose was cute and delicate, and her teeth were small and straight. Like he noticed before, her curves couldn't be seen because she was bundled up. Her clothes were warm and casual, nothing extremely expensive or stylish. This broke things down a bit. Who was a Gryffindor in his year who didn't necessarily dress in fashionable and "in" clothing? Not the Patil girl, so that left two candidates: Brown and�

"Granger?"

The girl looked down, her smile gone from her face. Draco could tell that she was getting uncomfortable as an awkward silence filled the air and added to the tension for a short while.

Draco had to admit that he was shocked. He didn't really expect this girl to be Granger. She looked very different, but he knew one month away from everyone could change someone's looks a bit. Now that he thought about it, she did kind of look the same. But Draco was still surprised. Just seconds ago he didn't recognize Granger and was joking with her. He was actually being nice to her.

And why not? a voice in his head thought. There's nothing wrong with her. You fought alongside her in the war, didn't you? She didn't really do anything, besides going to Gryffindor and befriending your greatest enemy.

Draco supposed the voice was right. He really didn't have anything against Granger. The only reason he was mean to her was because he was raised to hate Muggleborns, Gryffindors, and anyone associating with Potter. It wouldn't hurt to be nice, he guessed, since his father died at war and his mother didn't really care how he acted and who he talked to. As long as he fixed up his image before he went back to Hogwarts.

But even if Granger was to be civil to him, he knew it would still be hard to accept that she didn't do anything to him. Well, besides slap him in Third Year and all that. But he was so used to being mean, he knew the best he could do was a joke every now and then, just like he did to the "stranger" before. But the most he could do was try. He still needed a guide at Carthos Island.

"Granger?" Draco said more than asked. He wasn't asking if he was right this time. His tone was different. It was a tone of�concern? No, not concern. He was trying to be nice and all, but he wasn't concerned for Granger. He was just trying to make a better impression.

He placed a hand on Granger's shoulder in a comforting way. She just studied the footprints and dog prints in the sand.

"What are you going to do to me?"

Draco was confused. "Huh?"

Granger looked up at him. "Aren't you going to call me 'Mudblood' or run away or insult me about my 'germs' on your jacket now?"

"No," Draco said. He mentally smiled at the shocked look on Granger's face. "Like I said before, I need someone to show me around the island and someone to talk to. I know we have a�hateful past, but maybe we can just be�civil for a while, you know, until I get to know Carthos Island better." He stuck out his hand. "What do you say, Granger? Truce?"

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Hermione stared at Malfoy's hand. What should she say? His request sounded reasonable, but�what would happen when Saturday came, bringing Harry along? Well, Malfoy would get bored of her by then, wouldn't he? By the time Harry came around, he'd be gone, right?

Thinking this, Hermione was worried. When Harry came, what would he do when he found out Draco Malfoy was here on the island with them? It was a small island, and there was a good chance they would see each other a few times before they had to leave for school.

She shrugged it off. She could just tell Harry to ignore him. He would do that for her�or at least�she hoped so.

Hermione took Malfoy's hand and shook it. "Truce."

Malfoy dropped his hand and smirked.

"You do know the island, right?"

"I know where everything is if that's what you mean."

Malfoy nodded.

"But I'll only have a truce with you on three conditions," Hermione continued.

"Conditions?"

"Yes." Hermione pushed her hair back, got fed up with it, and pulled the hood on Malfoy's jacket over her head so her hair wouldn't fly. "Number One: You can't call me a Mudblood or any of those other evil names you love to call me. And no insulting me like hell unless it's meant to be humorous for the both of us."

Malfoy shook his head. "I get it, but that sounds like two different conditions to me."

"They're related, Malfoy. Number Two: You don't tell anyone about us seeing each other here, let alone being civil to each other."

Malfoy interrupted again, "Do you care so much?"

"It's not that, Malfoy," Hermione said. "It's just that there are some people out there who respect me, and I don't want to lose that respect. Also, Harry's coming next Saturday, so you don't tell him about this, okay?"

"Potter's coming?" Malfoy exclaimed and questioned at the same time. "What am I supposed to do when he gets here?"

Hermione sighed, frustrated. "I don't know! Maybe you'll meet someone else before then. Who knows? Anyway, Number Three is: You have to tell me what you're doing here."

Malfoy groaned. "Do I have to?"

"Don't whine. And, yes, it's a condition."

"Now?"

"Now."

"Fine." Malfoy picked up a small rock and threw it at a nearby sea anemone, causing it to squirt a small trail of water.

Hermione held his arm back from throwing another one. "Don't do that! Not only is it disgusting seeing a sea creature barf water, it's cruel treatment! Now, tell me your story."

"Okay, okay!" Malfoy rolled his eyes, which didn't go unnoticed by Hermione. "I guess it all started back during the war."

"Malfoy, that was five months ago."

"Yeah, well, my father died during it."

Hermione frowned and blushed.

"Don't get me wrong, Granger, I'm glad he died."

Hermione looked up. "Why?"

Malfoy sighed. This was going to take a while. "He beat my mum on a weekly basis." Hermione noticed Malfoy ignore the gasp she let out.

"Malfoy! That's serious! Why didn't you tell anybody?"

"I tried. My mum wouldn't let me tell, and when Father found out I wanted to get him caught, he threatened to beat my mum again, not without reassuring me that no one would believe me anyway. That's why I fought on the light side during the war. My father didn't exactly make a good impression on me.

"He would beat Mum when she did something wrong or when I did something wrong. He would always take it out on her. I wasn't allowed to cry, I couldn't play with anyone unless their parents were Death Eaters, and if I refused being anointed as a Death Eater, she would be beaten for raising an imperfect child like me. That's why I acted as if I wanted to be a Death Eater at school. No one was about to tell my father how I really felt about it; most feared me, just as he wanted.

"Now that my father's dead, I inherited fifty percent of his money (the other half went to my mum) and me and Mum are free from him."

"How does this explain why you're here?" Hermione asked quietly. She was still shocked from gaining the knowledge of her enemy's horrible past.

Malfoy continued. "I don't know why, but Mum still loved Father, even if he always beat her. I know she hated it when he did that, but I guess she thought the Dark Lord was possessing him or something. Anyway, Mum's been so depressed lately, always locking herself in a room and staring blankly at a wall all day. Obviously, I was worried for her, so I called a therapy nurse at St. Mungos for her.

"I thought this nurse would be good for Mum, and she was. Mum is actually coming out of her room now, even if she won't go outside. She's happy. So happy, she won't even bother talking to me. Before I would just go in her room and let her talk about things with me, but now she just talks with this nurse and spending time to herself. She doesn't have time for me anymore, even if she doesn't really do anything.

"And as for the nurse, she hates me. She doesn't do anything bad to me, but she's always growling at me to leave my mum to rest or lay down and glaring at me when I try to help her. She says it's her job, not mine. Basically, I wasn't allowed to do anything. I wasn't allowed to go outside, either. I couldn't play Quidditch or go visit people. All I could do was sit in my room and be quiet.

"Which is why I'm here right now. I wrote a note to Mum to let her know I'm here on this island, but knowing her, she won't notice I'm gone and the nurse probably threw away my letter and pretended she had no idea where I went anyway."

Hermione stared at him. "You ran away."

"I did. It sounds like a kid thing, you know, the child always being angry at a guardian so they run away for a while before turning back. But not me. I'm not going back. I brought all my school stuff, and I still plan to go to Diagon Alley before heading back to Hogwarts."

"But, Malfoy," Hermione protested, "why not just go to Diagon Alley in the first place?"

Malfoy sighed. "I wanted alone time, time to just relax, forget my image, forget magic for a while. That's why I went to this Muggle place instead of some magical place. Also, the more people I saw who knew who I was would want to know what I'm doing or make trouble for me and stuff."

Hermione nodded. "I understand, Malfoy. I'm just not really sure what to say."

Malfoy sighed. "Why don't you say that those are the only three conditions for me to walk around with you for the next week," he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Hermione smiled. "Those are the only three conditions for you to walk around with me for the next week."

"Glad to hear it. Now, if you don't mind, I'm freezing and it's totally dark. I want to go inside."

Hermione smiled. "Alright." She removed Malfoy's jacket, instantly regretting it when she felt the chills coming back to her.

Malfoy stood up. "Keep it, Granger. Just give it back to me tomorrow."

Hermione gratefully nodded, putting it back on before standing up as well. "Thanks." She furrowed her eyebrows as they walked back up to the streets together. "Um�Malfoy?" She waited for his nod before continuing. "Where are you staying?"

He smirked. "I just got my father's money! Duh! I'm staying at the Sunbeam Inn."

Hermione gaped. "The Sunbeam Inn? That's really expensive! I heard the rooms are really nice."

"They are. How about you? Where are you staying?"

Hermione grinned. "I have a beach house here. I'm staying alone there until Harry comes."

Malfoy groaned. "I can't wait."

Hermione laughed out loud. "Bye, Malfoy. My beach house is the opposite way from the Inn. I'll see you tomorrow."

As se turned to leave, Malfoy called out to her. "Granger? No need to press you, but how am I going to find you tomorrow?"

Hermione grinned. "Whoops! Do you know where the aquarium is?"

"I've got a map in my room."

"Good. Then I'll meet you there at ten." And with that, Hermione walked away in the darkness. "And Malfoy? Thanks again for the jacket!"

When Hermione opened the door to her beach house, she immediately ran to her room and flopped on the bed. She thought about what happened since she decided to watch the sun set on the beach. Romantic? What was she thinking? The next time she scheduled to meet a friend somewhere, she would wait until the day they planned to meet to arrive.