Recuperation - 5

"Interesting how?" Ron asked, cocking his head to the side.

Harry and Ginny stared at Hermione with puzzled expressions. She was obviously struggling with something, and they leaned forward, waiting for her explanation.

"A lot of the Muggle beaches here are clothing optional," she said very quickly, needlessly straightening some of the items on the desk.

"You mean they go sun bathing starkers?" Ron asked, horrified.

Ginny threw her head back and laughed uproariously while Ron fidgeted, and Hermione continued to blush. Harry shifted uncomfortably – certain body parts just weren't meant to be sunburned.

"Well, yes," Hermione said, clearing her throat. "Some of the Muggles enjoy that."

Ginny, who was still flopped on her back, rose on her elbows and smiled mischievously. Harry worried that she was considering going to that beach. He wouldn't put it past her, but he wasn't certain he was that brave.

"Exactly how do you know about these beaches, Hermione?" Ginny asked, raising her eyebrow.

Harry's eyes fly open wide, staring incredulously at Hermione. Ginny was right! How did Hermione know?

"I told you, I've been here before," Hermione said, her hands fluttering nervously as she pointed toward the window. "They're wearing swimming costumes on that beach, so why don't we change so we can get out there? The Healers said Harry needed some rest and relaxation."

She left the room without a backward glance. Ron stared after her with an odd mixture of horror and intrigue while Harry smirked. He'd actually asked one of the Healers to recommend rest and relaxation in front of Hermione so that she wouldn't pester him about doing any seventh-year revising while they were on holiday.

Ginny giggled and bounced out the door after her. "Last one ready has to carry the beach stuff," she called merrily.

Ron stared for a moment before muttering, "Bloody hell," and following her from the room.

Harry stood and moved to find his own trunks. He paused a moment before closing his door, staring at Draco's closed room. He twisted his lips to the side, debating. The Slytherin would most likely sneer and close the door in his face, but he supposed it was up to him to make the first move. Squaring his shoulders, he strode purposefully across the hall and rapped on the door.

He heard the rustle of parchment before the door swung open wide. Draco paused, swallowing his snarl but narrowing his eyes.

"What do you want?" he asked, watching Harry closely.

"Er…we're going to go down and take a look at the beach," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"And exactly how does this concern me?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry shrugged. "It doesn't, but if you want to come with us, that's where we'll be," he said, moving back toward his own room.

Draco's eyes widened in surprise. He silently watched as Harry returned to his room. "I might be down later," he said, grimacing as if it pained him to say the words. "I have some correspondence with my solicitors I need to sift through first."

Harry nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "They're trying to sort out your family affairs?" he asked.

"What's left of them," Draco replied, scowling. "I have a letter here from your cousin, too."

"Dudley?" Harry asked, stunned.

"Yeah. He might come and stay with me for awhile when I'm able to return to Malfoy Manor," Draco replied.

Harry shook his head, at a loss for words. "Er…that's great," he said, running his hand through his hair. His mind had been gradually dealing with the end of Voldemort, but he still fond the idea of a magical Dudley Dursley as unfathomable. Never mind a magical Dudley Dursley who corresponded with Draco Malfoy.