Part 1/1
*

Draco Malfoy adjusted his sunglasses with a graceful gesture and watched the gentle waves roll onto the golden sandy beach of Cornwall. The sun shimmered on the water's surface, bathing the scene in a warm, soothing light. A light sea breeze lingered in the air, and the sounds of seagulls completed the idyllic picture. It was the perfect spot for a summer vacation.

He strolled along the beach, his gaze drifting over the various beach houses and resorts that stretched along the coastline. His decision to choose Cornwall for his summer getaway had proven to be extremely pleasant. Draco was glad for the opportunity to escape the hectic bustle of the wizarding world and relax in this tranquil setting.

After his walk, he returned to the Beach Hotel Resort, inhaling deeply the salty sea breeze, and, as he did every day since his arrival, admired the magnificent hotel complex. The architecture seamlessly blended with the natural beauty of the surroundings, giving the place a unique elegance. Guests were clearly enjoying the resort's amenities, and Draco was no exception.

He settled onto one of the comfortable lounge chairs, his gaze fixed on the sea as he leisurely sipped his cocktail, which he'd obtained from the outdoor bar. It was a moment of peace and tranquility, one he fully savored, allowing him to forget the worries and troubles of the world for a while.

It was a moment of complete calm until a gentle voice broke his trance.

"Excuse me, but would you be interested in joining a volleyball match?" The voice came from behind him.

He slowly turned around and saw a woman whose face was brightened by a warm smile. She had an open demeanor, and her curly hair fluttered slightly in the wind. Draco found her captivating, even with her face partially hidden beneath a large white sunhat.

"Hmm, a volleyball match?" Draco repeated, thinking for a moment. It wasn't a bad idea to add some activity to his day.

"Why not?" he finally replied with a charming smile. "Where and when is this volleyball taking place?"

The young woman smiled in relief. "Fantastic! It will be right here on the beach. We're still looking for a few more players, and you arrived just in time. We'll meet at the volleyball court over there in about half an hour," she explained, pointing to a spot further down the beach.

Draco nodded approvingly. "Perfect, I'll be there," he said, though he didn't even know what volleyball was. Still, the idea of trying something new and maybe even having fun appealed to him in a strange way.
Besides, the woman was more than just friendly and helpful. There was something about her presence that intrigued Draco. Perhaps it was her openness or her natural grace. Whatever it was, it sparked his interest, and he found himself wanting to learn more about her.

*

As Draco walked to the volleyball court, he couldn't stop thinking about the mysterious woman. Who was she? Why had she chosen him to ask? Questions danced in his mind, but he decided to push them aside for the moment and focus on the game instead.

When he finally reached the volleyball court, he noticed that a small group had already gathered, preparing for the match.

Among them, one person stood out. It was the woman who had invited him to the game. She stood there with a certain confidence, engaged in an animated conversation with the others.

At her side was a young man with wild hair and a faint grin, who immediately reminded Draco of someone he knew from school. At first glance, he looked strikingly similar to—Ronald Weasley.
A small smile tugged at Draco's lips as he noticed the uncanny resemblance. It was an amusing realization how fate sometimes had such small curiosities in store.

Draco's gaze eventually fell on another man, who seemed calmer and more composed. He had dark hair and distinct facial features that seemed familiar, but Draco couldn't recall ever meeting him. Could it be?

A fleeting memory brushed against his thoughts, but he couldn't quite grasp it. It was too surreal.

He slowly approached the man and studied him more closely. The resemblance was striking. A faint whisper within him told him he knew this man, but he couldn't put it together. It couldn't be.

Finally, he dared to speak. "Excuse me, are you...?" Draco began hesitantly, when his gaze met the man's green eyes, and suddenly everything became clear.

It was Potter.
And he had walked straight into the lion's den.

His voice faltered as he silently uttered the name in his mind, and his disbelief mirrored in his eyes. Harry Potter, the boy he hadn't seen in years, whose mere existence was a reminder of a time filled with conflict and tension. But here he was, right in the middle of this volleyball court, as if he had never been gone.

Draco felt a pang of awkwardness as Harry looked at him with a slightly surprised and shocked expression. Their gazes met for a moment, and in that instant, time seemed to freeze. Memories of their shared past flashed like lightning through Draco's mind, and he suddenly felt overwhelmed by a mix of emotions—surprise, uncertainty, and a strange kind of nostalgia.

This couldn't be real.
If this man was Harry Potter, then...

He glanced at the woman. It was undeniable. This was Hermione Granger, the perfect student and member of the golden trio. The realization hit him like a slap in the face.

And standing to her left was undoubtedly Ronald Weasley, someone Draco had never expected to see here. It was as if the past had come alive and caught up with him unexpectedly.

Harry Potter was the first to speak: "Hermione, what the hell is Malfoy doing here?"

Draco laughed. "Same could be asked of you, Scarhead."

An uncomfortable silence spread between them as they eyed each other warily. The tension was palpable as memories of past animosities and conflicts resurfaced.

Hermione stepped forward, raising her hands in a calming gesture. "Now, calm down, both of you," she said with a sigh. "It's clear we all just happened to run into each other here. Let's make the best of it and play some volleyball together."

Her attempt to ease the tension was supported by Ron, who chimed in with a carefree grin: "Stop growling at each other, you two. This is ridiculous."

Draco eyed the redhead warily. Since when did he not go after him? The change in Weasley's behavior was unexpected and made Draco uneasy. Had something changed between them? Or had Weasley simply decided it was wiser to side with his girlfriend?

Draco and Harry exchanged mistrustful glances, but eventually, their hostility softened slightly. Draco relaxed a little and finally agreed, albeit reluctantly: "Fine, I'm in. But don't expect me to take it easy on you, Potter."

Harry snorted disdainfully. "Same to you, Malfoy. You'd better play well, or you'll regret it."

The atmosphere was still tense, but a hint of reconciliation hung in the air as they prepared for the game.

"So, how exactly does this volleyball thing work?"

Harry and Ron laughed, but they quickly quieted down when Hermione shot Draco a warning look. Draco, however, couldn't help but grin at her response.

"Don't worry, we'll explain the rules. It'll be fun," she reassured him with a warm smile, and it seemed like she really meant it.

*

"So, Malfoy, did you understand everything?" she asked after giving him a precise explanation of beach volleyball.

"Basically, volleyball involves the key moves of blocking, digging, and spiking. The goal is to send the ball over the net to score a point on the opponent's side. Blocking is when a player tries to stop the opponent's attack by lifting their hands over the net to intercept the ball. Digging is about saving the ball by diving and using your forearms to control it. And when spiking or setting, the ball is hit with power and precision to the opponent's side to score points. It takes teamwork, timing, and technique to succeed and dominate the game."

"That's...correct," Hermione said, surprised by his surprisingly accurate description of the game."

"You're actually listening, Malfoy," Ron said with an amused grin.

"Funny, Weasley, it doesn't hurt to listen every once in a while," Draco replied with a faint smile. It was unusual for him to interact with Ron so casually, but in that moment, it almost felt like the old animosities between them had been forgotten.

"Alright, let's get started," Harry suggested.

"Isn't anyone else joining?" Malfoy asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No, we asked a lot of people, but none of the hotel guests were interested," she replied with a slight shrug.

Draco frowned slightly at this realization. It was odd that no one else wanted to take the opportunity to have some fun on such a beautiful day. But he decided not to dwell on it and instead focused on the game ahead.

"So, just the four of us?" Draco asked.

"Oh yeah, just the four of us," Harry echoed.

"Come on, guys, let's start before it gets too hot."

*

With a nod, they all agreed and began preparing for the game. The sun was high in the sky, casting a golden light over the beach. Long shadows stretched across the sand as Draco and Harry took their positions on one side of the court, while Ron and Hermione positioned themselves on the other side. Each player had found their spot: Draco stood at the net, ready for attacks, while Harry hung back slightly to monitor the ball from a distance. On the other side of the net, Hermione was positioned close to the net, ready to block any attacks, while Ron stayed at the back of the court to play the ball back. The players were perfectly placed.

Draco took a focused stance, his concentration sharpened on the game. The excitement in the air mixed with a hint of nervousness. The group had decided to split into teams, and the rivalry between Draco and Harry promised to make the game intense—especially when they were forced to work together as a team.

The first serves echoed across the beach as the game began. The ball flew over the net, and the players quickly got into their rhythm, blocking, passing, and spiking the ball. It was a fiercely contested match, each point hard-fought.

Draco could feel the sand beneath his feet, the wind in his hair, and the rush of energy as he threw himself into the game. Every hit, every block, every save felt like a challenge, and he was determined to give his all.

The ball was served by Granger, precise and powerful. Draco tracked it through the air, his heart racing with adrenaline. Seeing his chance, he leapt high and spiked the ball with full force, sending it hurtling over the net.

A loud thud echoed as the ball hit the opposing side, and for a brief moment, it felt like time had stopped. Then, cheers erupted as Harry and Draco realized that Draco had scored a point for their team. A satisfied grin spread across Draco's face as he savored the moment.

The excitement on Harry's face was unmistakable. The look in his eyes told Draco that they both knew they'd just secured a crucial point. Harry's infectious joy made Draco flash a small smile as they prepared for the next round.

With the point won, possession of the ball shifted, and now it was Ron and Hermione's turn to serve.

Ron took a deep breath and gripped the ball tightly. With a swift motion, he tossed it high into the air before sending it soaring over the net with remarkable power and precision.

With a graceful leap, Harry intercepted the ball and, with a powerful swing, sent it back into the opposing court. Hermione, already positioned near the net, expertly caught the ball and launched it back with a quick, forceful spike. The ball flew over the net with such speed that Draco and Harry could only watch in awe as it landed perfectly on their side, beyond their reach. They both lunged for it, but their attempts to save the ball were in vain. A brief silence followed, before Ron and Hermione's jubilant cheers filled the air.

As he watched Hermione, Draco couldn't help but be impressed. Her passion and dedication on the court were impossible to ignore. There was something captivating about the way she played—her agility, her intelligence, and the fierce determination that made her a natural leader.

Draco's gaze lingered on her, drawn to the way she moved with purpose and skill, pouring herself into the game. It was a moment of admiration that surprised him, but also intrigued him. He couldn't deny the pull he felt toward her.

Moreover, Hermione's natural beauty shone even brighter in the sunlight, her brown hair shimmering as it danced in the breeze. Her eyes were clear and determined, and her smile radiated warmth. The athletic outfit she wore accentuated her strength and agility, making it clear that she was more than just a capable player—she was a force to be reckoned with.

*

Finally, as the sun cast a golden glow over the horizon and the day drew to a close, the game reached its peak. The final plays were executed with even greater intensity, each player pushing themselves to the limit to secure a victory for their team.

When the last ball flew over the net and landed on the opposing side, a surge of excitement rippled through the air. The victorious players cheered and hugged one another, and Draco felt an immense sense of satisfaction. It had been an exhilarating game, one he would remember long after the sun sank below the horizon and night blanketed the beach.

"That was absolutely brilliant," the brunette said, her voice full of excitement.

"I can only agree. You were pretty good at the end, Malfoy," Harry added, still catching his breath.

Draco raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. "Pretty good?" he repeated, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I'd say I was more than just 'pretty good.' I was spectacular."

"Not nearly as spectacular as Mione," Ron chimed in, turning his attention to Hermione.

She gave Ron a soft smile, one that Draco couldn't help but notice. It wasn't the words that unsettled him, but the way Hermione looked at Ron—her eyes warm, her expression full of recognition. It made something twist uncomfortably in Draco's chest. He couldn't quite place it, but the sight of their easy familiarity left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Pushing down the strange feeling, Draco plastered on his own smile. "Well, let's not get carried away with a few compliments, Weasley. After all, Potter and I came out on top—30-28."

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance before Hermione gave a slight smile. "That's true," she said thoughtfully. "But it was a close game. I'll give you that."

Draco nodded in agreement. "Of course, it was close. But in the end, it's only the win that counts." He winked at Harry, standing proudly beside him, a swell of pride filling his chest.

*

"Anyway, who's up for a drink?" Harry asked, looking over at the group.

"You guys go ahead, I'll pack up our stuff," Hermione replied, gesturing toward the towels, water bottles, and scattered beach games.

"Are you sure...?" Ron started, but Hermione waved him off.

"I'll stay and help Granger, and you two can grab us a table," Draco suggested with a slight nod, stepping forward.

Harry and Ron exchanged a surprised glance, but Harry gave a small nod and said, "Alright, we'll see you at the beach bar."

Draco watched them go before turning his attention back to Hermione. She was already in the process of collecting their things.

With a quiet sigh, Draco stepped closer to her. Together, they folded towels and gathered the scattered beach games. The air was calm, the only sounds being the crash of the waves and the distant chatter of other beachgoers.

When everything was packed away, they stood side by side, gazing out over the horizon. The sunset was breathtaking, the sky shifting from fiery orange to soft pink, the sunlight casting a golden glow over the ocean. It was peaceful, almost surreal, and Draco felt an unexpected wave of tranquility wash over him.

They stood there for a while, enjoying the silence between them, the shift in their relationship palpable. From rivalry to cooperation, and now, a sense of mutual respect—or perhaps something more.

Just as Draco was about to say something, Hermione broke the silence.

"Why did you join in?" she asked suddenly, her gaze still fixed on the sea.

Draco blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean? I didn't know at first..." he began, but she interrupted him.

"I don't mean that," she said. "Once you recognized us, you could've just left."

"But I didn't want to," he replied, the grin returning to his face.

"Why not?" she pressed, eyes narrowing in curiosity.

Draco shrugged, a mischievous spark in his eyes. "What can I say? The beautiful woman in the sun hat convinced me. Thought it'd be a good chance to try something new."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, a faint flush coloring her cheeks—though he was certain it wasn't just from the sun. "Something new? Like... playing volleyball with your old rivals?"

Draco gave her a crooked smile, shrugging nonchalantly. "Why not? Turns out it wasn't so bad. In fact, maybe I even liked it."

There was a flicker of surprise in Hermione's eyes, followed by the ghost of a smile. "Well, I'm glad you stayed, Draco," she said, and Draco noticed she had dropped the formality, using his first name. A ripple ran through him, and he felt his heart beat just a little faster.

The way she said his name felt... different. Familiar, but somehow new, like they'd crossed some invisible line between rivalry and something else. The realization sent a rush of excitement—and maybe a little trepidation—through him.

He forced himself to calm down and smiled softly. "I'm glad too, Hermione," he said, his voice quieter than usual.

Hermione looked over at him with a knowing look. "Well, you and Ron... you weren't bad either," she said, changing the subject with a small, playful smile.

"We practiced," Draco said, the corner of his lips quirking up.

"So, do you play volleyball often?" he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Hermione nodded. "Sometimes. Mostly when we go on vacation. It's become almost a yearly tradition."

Draco nodded thoughtfully. "What about Potter's wife? Weaslette?"

"Ginny?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Oh, she's as much of a sports enthusiast as the other two. Volleyball's just one of many things she's good at. Unfortunately, she couldn't join us this time—she just started an internship at St. Mungo's. It's really important to her."

"I see," he replied, his tone neutral, though the wheels in his mind were turning.

"You and Ron seem to have a really strong bond," Draco remarked, eyeing Hermione carefully. It was obvious they shared a close connection, but he couldn't help wondering if there was more to it. He decided to tread carefully, dropping the question with deliberate subtlety.

Hermione smiled lightly, her expression warm. "Yes, we're best friends."

Draco nodded, his gaze narrowing slightly. "Best friends. But is there... perhaps more than that between you?"

Hermione's eyes flickered up at him in surprise. Had he picked up on something? "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice cautious but not defensive.

Draco shrugged nonchalantly, allowing a faint smile to tug at his lips. "Well, you spend so much time together, share so many experiences... it wouldn't be unusual if feelings had developed over the years."

Hermione cleared her throat, a slight blush creeping into her cheeks. She didn't seem offended, but her expression softened as she considered his words. "We were once at that point," she admitted, "but it wouldn't have worked out. We're just really good friends now."

Draco's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, relieved that the topic had been addressed so plainly. "Okay," he said simply, his smile returning to its more familiar, teasing edge. He decided to drop the subject for now.

"I think we should join Harry and Ron," Hermione suggested as she began gathering her things to leave.

But Draco, with a mischievous glint in his eye, lightly caught her hand to stop her.

"Honestly," he said, his grin widening, "I was wondering... would you like to try that lovely café on the coast? I heard it's quite good."

"Is that an attempt to invite me on a date?" Hermione asked with a playful smirk.

Draco didn't flinch, his smile only deepening. "Who knows? Maybe. Only if you're up for it, of course."

A sparkle of amusement flickered in Hermione's eyes as she leaned in slightly. "And what's the name of this café?"

Draco paused for a moment, tapping his chin theatrically. "I don't know, actually. Seems to have slipped my mind."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, her arms crossing in mock suspicion. "Oh really?"

"I vaguely remember it starts with an M," Draco continued, his voice smooth as ever, "but I'm sure if we go, the name will come back to me."

Hermione buried her face in her hands, stifling a laugh. When she finally looked up at him, her eyes were warm, yet mischievous. "You're impossible, Draco Malfoy."

Draco grinned broadly, leaning in slightly closer, his eyes sparkling. "Is that a yes?"

Hermione sighed dramatically, her expression softening as she met his gaze. "Alright... for my sake."

Draco's grin turned triumphant. "Excellent! Tomorrow at 8 PM... here?"

Hermione nodded, her smile full of quiet amusement. "Okay."

*

The beach bar stretched along the picturesque coastline, where the dark water gently lapped at the shimmering sand. Above, a sparkling band of stars adorned the night sky, and the moon cast its silvery light over the scene. A soft sea breeze swept through the darkness, carrying the salty scent of the ocean.

Ron and Harry had already claimed one of the shaded spots under a thatched umbrella, comfortably seated at a rustic wooden table. A lantern on the table bathed their faces in a warm, dim light as they chatted animatedly.

Draco and Hermione joined them after securing their belongings in a lifeguard hut. The peaceful scene enveloped them as they arrived, the only sound being the waves, while the dark sky above shimmered with stars.

The beach bar was calm and relaxed, with a few solitary figures strolling along the shore, their silhouettes framed by the lantern light. The ocean stretched endlessly before them, its darkness merging with the night sky.

"There you are, what took you so long?" Harry greeted them with a grin.
"Oh, we had a bit of a struggle with the towels," Draco teased, glancing at Hermione.
"Okay, so we ordered a bottle of wine for everyone. Thought it would suit the occasion," Ron added.

"Thanks," Hermione smiled, accepting the glass.

"So, what do you think about playing another match tomorrow?" Ron suggested with a raised eyebrow.
"Sounds good, Weaslebee," Draco replied, his usual teasing tone back in place.

The evening passed in a blur of laughter, stories, and wine. The stars above twinkled brightly as the soothing sound of the ocean filled their conversation. Amid the warm breeze and tranquil ambiance, they felt at ease, connected in a way that made their differences seem small and insignificant.

Time passed unnoticed, but it felt as though they could have stayed there forever. The air was alive with laughter, familiar words, and those quiet, secret glances exchanged between Draco and Hermione said more than words ever could...

The End
*