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A Summer Holiday	By : TwistOfLime Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 12021 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Chapter Seven: Calm After the Storm

Draco awoke the next morning to pale sunlight rising in the front of the house and reflecting off the ocean, much calmer now than it had been last night. He was slouched against the wall with pins and needles running down his left leg, a stiff neck and an odd weight against his chest. Looking down he was greeted by a mass of curly, brown hair.

Hermione was curled up against his chest with both of her legs thrown over his, explaining the pins and needles. She was breathing evenly and she still held his hand in hers. His stomach gave a lurch as he noticed that her gown had ridden up in the night, exposing most of her legs to him, her smooth, creamy skin looking as soft as velvet. One of her straps had fallen down as well, revealing a shoulder that looked all to delectable.

Noticing a slight tightening in his shorts, Draco quickly looked away and desperately tried to think of anything else. While trying to ignore the pleasant pressure of her body against his, Draco wondered when their mothers would be home. Surely the roads wouldn’t be fixed this early, but he still smirked to think of their faces if they saw how their children were getting along.

There was no possible way he could get up without waking her, but his current position was becoming more and more uncomfortable by the second. He could carry her easy enough and was contemplating moving her to her bedroom when she began to stir against his chest.

She arched her back, stretching and pulling the white cotton of her gown tight across her chest. Draco tried hard not to look, not wanting her to wake to the sight of him ogling her and the feel of his arousal pressed against her side. He figured waking up against his chest and holding his hand would be enough of a shock for one morning.

She looked up at him tiredly and with a sudden gasp, sat up poker straight. She recovered from the shock quickly and swung her legs to the floor, pulling down her gown at the same time.

“Morning,” he said, wishing desperately that he could think of something, anything to say to break through the awkwardness that had sprung up between them.

“Morning Malfoy,” she replied brusquely.

“I expect that the roads won’t be fixed until later today. If you like I can take you to Mr. Gregory’s stand. It’s just down the beach, in the back of his house. Normally he doesn’t do breakfast, but I’m sure that he’ll be able to fix us something given the circumstances. He’s very kind.” She said all of this very fast while staring at her toes.

Draco smirked inwardly at her discomfort. “Sounds good,” he whispered huskily in reply and reached out to fix the fallen gown strap. He slowly ran his hand up her arm, pushing the thin blue ribbon to her shoulder. Untwisting it, he moved from back to front, grazing the side of her breast with his knuckles as his hand fell away. She muffled a small gasp, but was unable to hide the blush blossoming across her cheeks.

“I’ll just shower quickly,” he said casually, standing up and striding down the hall, leaving a very flustered Hermione behind.

Draco strode down the hallway to his room and rummaged through his trunk to find his things before heading to the shower downstairs, leaving Hermione the upstairs bathroom.

Turning on the water, Draco turned to stare blankly at himself in the mirror, the events of yesterday and last night replaying in his head. What was wrong with him? This was Granger. He had flirted with her, woken up with her on his lap, had kissed her. And he wanted to do it again. He wanted to taste her again, wanted to watch her writhing underneath him as she came undone, wanted to claim her as his own.

But this was Granger. The Dark Lord would sooner adopt Potter. And yet she didn’t hate him as he had assumed, she had said it herself: she didn’t blame him. Of course none of it mattered, they had three weeks, three weeks of time borrowed from someone else’s life, three weeks pretending that their world wasn’t collapsing around them. Afterwards, Granger would most likely leave to help Potter and he would do his best to keep his mother alive and free. They had no future. Wait, they had no future. Why was he concerned about not having a future with Granger?

“Get a grip,” he muttered to the now fogged mirror.

He stepped into the shower and let out a groan as the steaming water coursed over his shoulders and down his broad chest, his pale skin turning slightly pink in the heat. He washed quickly, not wanting to keep Granger waiting and, casting a quick drying charm, stepped into jeans and a black oxford.

Entering into the kitchen, Draco could see Hermione on the back porch curled up in a chair with a book in her lap. She was too engrossed to notice him as he walked out of the house. He took advantage of her distraction to admire her.

The early morning sun seemed to make her glow, her curls blazing golden and her skin radiant. She wore a yellow vest that suited her golden coloring and provided Draco with a teasing view of her breasts. Her jeans looked like they were worn often, with a rip on one knee and slightly frayed bottoms.

Admiring the curve of her hips and smiling at the way her mouth silently formed the words as she read, Draco felt his resolve to stay away from her crumbling.

She jumped a little as he cleared his throat and her book slid from her lap. “So how far away is this stand?” he asked as she bent to retrieve it.

“Not far, maybe a five-minute walk. Hungry?”

“Yes,” he replied, following her down the stairs to the sand.

They walked in a silence broken by the crashing waves and the calls of gulls. In the distance, Draco noticed the ruins of a castle for the first time.

“Dunstanburgh Castle, or what’s left of it,” Hermione said, following his gaze.

“Have you ever been there?” he asked

“Mmm. I used to use it as a hide out. When I was younger, my parents would invite another doctor from their office on vacation with us. He had the most horrible little boy. A bossy little brat who had fits if I didn’t do exactly as he wanted. Luckily he thought the ruins were haunted and was too terrified to go anywhere near them so I could just hide out there all day.”

“That’s horrible.” Draco replied, for some reason angry with this unnamed doctor who couldn’t control his son.

She smiled at his indignation. “No not really. I would spend hours exploring, reading and swimming and when the tide is out there are thousands of little rock pools nearby. I used to catch crabs and sell them by the bucket to Mr. Gregory for a shilling.”

“A shilling?”

“Muggle money, about five knuts. But really he was just humoring me. None of the crabs were bigger than the palm of my hand. You couldn’t actually use them for anything; he probably just set them all free.

“Still, whenever I would bring him a bucket he would make me a crab salad sandwich for lunch and pretend it was made from the crabs I had brought him.”

Staring at the castle ruins, she seemed to revel in the memory and her happiness was infectious; Draco couldn’t help but smile as he imagined a little Hermione running around the beach with a bucket full of crabs.

“I could take you there if you’d like,” she said, looking up at him. “If it’s nice enough we can go swimming. There’s a nice spot on the other side of the crag, it’s clear and you can jump from the rocks.”

“Sure,” he replied as they came to a stop at a driftwood sign with Mr. Gregory’s Fish Stand painted in neat black letters.

The house was almost identical to the Granger’s, except that the large porch was half covered and packed with tables and chairs. Where the kitchen would be there was a large window with a red counter to take orders. Hanging from the countertop was another driftwood sign, this one smaller with Closed painted in the same neat black lettering.

Hermione went straight to the order window and knocked. The window slid open and out popped the head of an old man with wispy grey hair, spectacles and a crooked smile.

“Well now, I was hoping you’d come by today, but I must admit I wasn’t expecting such an early morning call,” said the man Draco assumed to be Mr. Gregory. “Frances!” he called. “Come and see who dropped by.”

Draco heard the sound of clattering pots and a tall, thin woman emerged from the door on their left. She looked slightly younger than her husband with short black hair just beginning to go grey. She immediately pulled Hermione into a hug.

“Goodness,” she cooed. “You get more beautiful every time I see you. Doesn’t she get more beautiful Martin?”

“Yes dear,” he replied, winking at her. “She’s a heartbreaker if I ever saw one.”

“What brings you down here so early?”

“Well, we were hoping you could fix us some breakfast,” Hermione answered. “The roads were washed out by the storm last night and our mothers’ couldn’t get back with the groceries. So if you can’t feed us, we’ll just have to starve.”

“Oh hush. You’re welcome to join us. Just a bit of porridge this morning I’m afraid. Nothing too fancy, but plenty to go around.” Mrs. Gregory replied, turning her attention to Draco. “And who is this?”

“Draco. Draco Malfoy. Pleasure to meet you.” Draco said, bowing slightly.

“Handsome and polite. My dear Hermione, you certainly picked a good one.”

Hermione blushed at this and Draco smirked. “We’re just friends,” she muttered.

“Yes, yes, of course. Well come in before breakfast gets cold,” Mrs. Gregory replied, leading them into the kitchen.

Inside, a small wooden table was crammed in a corner of the tightly packed kitchen. Mr. Gregory sat at one of the mismatched chairs reading the paper with a cup of coffee.

“Coffee or tea Draco?” Mrs. Gregory asked ladling porridge into four bowls.

“Coffee please,” Draco replied, taking a seat next to Hermione.

“So, how do you two know each other?” Mr. Gregory asked, folding his paper.

“School,” Draco replied. “But our mothers’ are friends from grade school so we’re spending the next few weeks here on holiday together.”

“Really? Why haven’t you come before?”

“Our mother’s have just recently become reacquainted,” Hermione answered as Mrs. Gregory brought over the porridge and coffee.

“Well, we hope you enjoy it here. It’s quiet, but it’ll be nice to relax before school starts again. You’ll have to take a trip into the village if you get tired of the beach. We have a playhouse, just a small one, a children’s theater really. I don’t know if that interests you, but I help with the sets and the kids always put on a good show. We’re putting on Pirates of Penzance this summer...”

Mrs. Gregory chatted almost non-stop throughout the meal; Draco was only required to nod occasionally. They were both very kind and Draco and Hermione left an hour later waving and promising to visit again soon.

“They’re nice,” Draco said.

“Yes, very,” Hermione replied smiling.

“Have you known them long?”

“Mmm. We bought the beach house when I was five and they’ve always been here. They’re like family. Oh look! I think they’re home,” Hermione said, pointing to the porch and picking up her pace.

As they neared the house Draco saw three figures around the table and realized that they had a visitor. Sitting in between a laughing Emma and Narcissa was a tall, dark, handsome and very familiar man: a very smug looking Blaise Zabini.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Author’s Note: Firstly, I wanted to thank everyone who’s reviewed so far. You are all awesome. Seriously… awesome. I can’t stop myself from re-reading the reviews and smiling. The fact that people actually read what I write, let alone take the time to review is incredible. Kind of weird, but in a really, really good way. So, thank you!

More importantly, I wanted to let you know that this was the last chapter that I had finished from the previous postings, so from now on I’m going to have to write the chapters before posting instead of just editing. I’ve been trying to ration what was already written, to give me time to finish new chapters, but I’m impatient and apparently have no self-control. I will do my best to get them done as fast as possible, but I definitely won’t be updating as fast. I hope you can all bear with me!
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A Summer Holiday