Jaded (Rewritten)

Chapter Seven: Strange and Beautiful

Malfoy Beach House – Maldives Island – 5:00 P.M.

Hermione followed Didi through a set of carved wooden folding doors that opened up to a spacious Lanai. It was an open-sided veranda, paved with cool, sand-colored stone and furnished with low-slung, comfortable lounge chairs. The space was perfectly positioned to catch the cooling trade winds.

"This is breathtaking, Didi," Hermione whispered.

The view from the Lanai was even more intimate than the balcony. The house sat so close to the shore that she could hear the water lapping against the stilts. Beyond the deck, the Indian Ocean was transforming; the sky was a bruised purple at the zenith, fading into a violent, fiery orange at the horizon.

"Miss wait here, Didi will be back with the coconut shake!" The elf gave a quick bow and vanished with a snap.

Hermione walked to the edge of the Lanai and leaned against a pillar. For a moment, her mind drifted back to the Burrow—the shouting, the smell of burnt toast, and the suffocating feeling of Ron's expectations. Here, the air was clear. There was no one to please, no one to argue with, and no "status updates" required.

She felt a strange sense of gratitude toward the "Mystery Mistress" Didi had mentioned. While she suspected Narcissa Malfoy was the benefactor, the sheer peace of the island made it hard to be suspicious.

Didi reappeared a moment later, carrying a tall, frosted glass adorned with a tiny paper umbrella and a slice of lime. "Here is your shake, Miss Hermione."

Hermione took a sip. It was creamy, cold, and tasted of pure tropical bliss. "It's perfect, Didi. Thank you."

"Mistress also says Didi must draw a bath for Miss later. With the special oils from France!" The elf beamed before disappearing again to attend to her duties.

Hermione settled into a lounge chair, the cold glass in her hand and the setting sun warming her skin. I could get used to this, she thought, closing her eyes.

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Potter Manor - London, England – 1:00 P.M.

The nursery was quiet, filled only with the soft, rhythmic breathing of a sleeping child. Astoria sat in the rocking chair, her fingers gently stroking Candice's blonde curls.

"Do you think Hermione has already left?" Astoria asked, her voice hushed.

Harry tore his eyes away from his book and checked his wristwatch. "I'd like to think so," he replied. "The Portkey was timed for noon. Knowing Hermione, she wouldn't have waited a second longer once she made up her mind."

Astoria nodded slowly, a small, pensive frown touching her lips. "I'm just wondering how she'll react when she realizes where we sent her"

Harry offered his wife a small, slightly guilty smile. "She'll probably kill me. Or hex me. Possibly both." He leaned back, his expression softening. "But she needs to get out of here—away from all this noise."

Astoria nodded gently, careful not to wake the toddler. "It's secluded enough," she said quietly. "This mess won't touch her."

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Malfoy Manor – Wiltshire, England – 1:15 P.M.

The air in the Drawing Room was thick with the scent of expensive sandalwood and the faint, lingering trace of Narcissa's perfume. Lucius sat comfortably in his high-backed chair, his expression one of mild amusement as he watched his wife.