Chapter 11:

Draco sat under an open-air cabana with Theo and Blaise, sheltered from the setting sun but relishing the evening breeze that broke up the July heat. "No date for the evening, Zabini?" Draco asked, popping a grape into his mouth as he lounged back into the chair.

Blaise looked around the beach and then sighed. "Not yet. There's a party at Aperto tonight, so hope is not lost, my friend."

"Your tool's going to fall off," the blond responded with a roll of his eyes.

"What do the muggles say? Use it or lose it?" his dark-skinned friend said with a laugh. "So, you should be losing yours anytime now."

Theo snorted, downing a shot of grappa as he settled in. "Malfoy's trying to slither on into Granger's bed."

Draco's eyes flashed from the glass of firewhiskey he was nursing to Theo's smug face. "What the fuck are you on about, Nott?"

"Oh, I think you know exactly what the fuck I'm on about. You're always running off on little adventures with the little lioness. She gives you the "come-fuck-me" eyes over dinner—hell, she admitted that you were her first choice. And you've stopped insulting her and started staring at her like the sun shines out of her arse," Theo replied with a dismissive wave of his hand.

The blond put his head back against the chair and let out a long groan. "What am I going to do?"

"Fuck her until she can't walk?" Theo suggested.

"It's Granger."

Blaise leaned forward on his knees. "And you're Malfoy. We get it. The War is over, mate. We've seen a change in you in the month since we arrived here."

"And, besides, she is a feisty little bird. I never realized, but Merlin's saggy left tit, Malfoy. She's fucking splendid," Theo said, a faraway look in his eyes making Draco narrow his.

"Stay away from her, Theodore," he told the burly wizard.

"Then get on that. In it," Theo urged. "She's a wild one, mark my words. It's always the quiet ones."

Draco glared at his friend. "Don't talk about her like that or I'll Avada your sorry arse."

Blaise laughed at his friends' antics. He crossed one leg over the other and watched a witch stroll past, though he lost interest when the witch's beau caught up to her. "Malfoy, what our uncouth imbecile of a best mate is trying to say is—the war has ended. You have a beautiful woman who is clearly attracted to you. Let go and have fun."

Draco put his head back on the chair once more and stared at the top of the cabana, watching the sheer white curtains flap lightly. He wished that he could be so carefree—to ignore the guilt, the bitterness, the memories. These two had not been through his experiences. Sure, they had witnessed the horrors Hogwarts had been placed under for the last year, but neither of them had suffered under the Dark Lord's wand. Neither had been threatened outright and bullied into beginning a War they did not even want.

How could he just jump into a casual relationship with someone else who was equally as broken and shattered? He knew that she needed something more than just a few romps in his sheets. The wizard thought once more of his conviction the day before—he was going to show her exactly how beautiful she was. He wanted nothing more than to listen to his friends, to bewitch the enticing woman. He needed to bewitch her, to hear her melodic laugh, to run his fingers through her wild curls, to kiss those pouty lips, to feel her writhe in ecstasy beneath him, hear his name fall from her lips as he was buried deep within her. But he also wanted to listen to her talk of ancient runes and challenge her on her potions knowledge. His hand twitched to hold hers anytime they were together. The stunning little woman had nestled her way into his mind and was quickly carving a spot in his heart.

"Look, stop overthinking things all the time," Blaise finally said, watching his friend carefully. "I can literally see the doubt and anxiety leaking from your pores."

"I want her. Bad," Draco admitted with a sigh.

"Then take her," Theo reasoned with an agitated wave of his hand. "I fail to see the problem here. She wants you. You want her. There is nothing to stop you."

Draco dropped his forehead to his hand, leaning on his thigh. "It takes more finesse than, 'Hey, wanna shag?'"

"You have never had a problem getting a witch into your bed," Blaise argued with an incredulous smile on his lips.

"Granger is not some cotton-brained Slytherin, wowed by my fortune and good looks," Draco replied.

"If you don't go after her, I will," Theo said with a shake of his head. "She's a hell of a woman."

"You put your prick anywhere near her, and I will castrate you," Draco warned, sending a stinging jinx toward his friend's inner thigh.

"Fucker," Theo hissed, trying to retrieve his wand quickly to put out the sting on his leg.

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that," Blaise said with a snort. "She'll castrate him first. He couldn't pry his lips apart for an hour last time he tried anything."

"She's going back to Hogwarts," Draco blurted aloud.

Theo scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Typical Granger. Wants to climb the ranks within the Ministry through educational merit instead of just by way of her celebrity status. How very noble."

"What am I supposed to do when summer's over?" Draco asked, looking between his two friends.

"Have a little summer lovin' and then get back to life," Theo shrugged.

"Or, have a little summer lovin' and then get back to Hogwarts," Blaise suggested, reading Draco's features carefully.

Though he chased more tail than Draco could shake a stick at, Blaise was always more of a romantic than Theo. He understood a little more readily what the blond meant in his worrying. Theo enjoyed sex without actual romance—raw and wild, unattached. And in Hogwarts, that method had worked for Draco. But as a grown man, having just come through a War and a brutal last few years of his life, he craved more. He yearned for understanding, intimacy, love.

"Here's your chance, Malfoy. Your sassy little bird is coming this way," Blaise told him, nodding over his shoulder.

Draco turned around to see her walking up with Potter and Lovegood. She was dressed casually—a pair of short jean shorts and a white top that fell completely off her shoulders and showed a sliver of her tanned mid-drift. But his heart jumped into his throat and lodged itself somewhere behind his Adam's apple at the sight of her. Her hair was wild and free, made untamable by the salt air and had grown steadily more gold with each day in the sun.

"Is that all you three do all day? Drink?" Granger asked, eyeing their glasses.

"Oh, little lovie, we do so much more than drink. If you'd like to accompany me back to my room, I could show you," Theo told her, grinning as she glared.

"Nott," Draco warned, watching as his burly friend pulled out a purple velvet pouch from under his seat.

"There are a bonfire and party over at Aperto's tonight," Blaise addressed the newcomers, "why don't you all come over with us?"

"A party?" Lovegood smiled widely and looked to Potter. "I love parties. Is it someone's birthday?"

"I'm sure there will be plenty of people in their birthday attire before the night is over," Potter replied under his breath, making Granger laugh.

"You coming, Granger?" Draco asked, trying to seem casual.

"Not yet," he could have sworn he heard Blaise mumble into his cup as she gave a shy nod.

The group stood, Draco stretching widely as he watched Lovegood link her arm with Granger's to lead the way to the open-air restaurant. Her long legs flowed from under her sinfully short shorts, her arse perfectly plump and shapely as her hips swayed while she walked over the sand. Again, he was reminded of his pitiful behaviors upon seeing her in a bikini and he frowned slightly. He made his mind up then to listen to his two friends—Granger wanted him, he wanted her. He would not just pounce on her, but he was going to make his attraction known.

They made their way to the bar, similar in structure to the restaurant they frequented in that it had a covered roof, but the sides were completely open. Once inside, a crowd was growing heavy with party-goers. Theo pushed through the crowds, different languages and dialects mixing with the loud music to create a cacophony of sound. He found an empty table in the back corner and waved at the empty seats for the others to sit. "I've got a special little concoction of my own creation here. If you all would like to partake—it was a hit at all of the Slytherin House parties."

Draco watched as Theo retrieved a frosted glass bottle from within the velvet pouch, one that stayed perpetually cold and endlessly refilled itself. The liquid within glowed a bright pink. The blond smirked. He knew exactly what the alcohol was and what it could do. "I call it 'Moondrop,'" Theo explained to the others, taking a long swig before passing it to Blaise.

"Moondrop?" Potter inquired, watching the Italian take a long pull.

"Because it makes witches want to drop their knickers by the light of the moon," Theo winked once more at Granger, who turned her nose up at him in disgust.

"You are a pervert," she told him, rolling her eyes as she ingested some of the alcohol.

She looked down at the bottle in surprise. "Oh! That's good—really good. It tastes like bananas and pineapples."

"Have another pull, love. It's an endless supply," Theo urged, giving Draco a wink.

Draco pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and tried his best wizard's chess face. Poor Granger had no idea what she was getting into. He took the bottle from her and gulped down three good sips before passing it along to Potter. The bottle went around again, and everyone drank from it merrily, the taste pleasant enough to elicit a tiny moan of pleasure from the brunette witch each time it passed her lips.

The music was loud, obnoxiously so, and it grated on Draco's nerves as he sat, and people watched. Had it not been for Granger agreeing to accompany them, he would have been holed up in his bed for the evening. He absolutely hated large crowds, noise, and chaos—all of which was present before his eyes. A new song began, and Luna grabbed Granger by the arm with a girlish squeal that made both the witch and wizard roll their eyes.

In good fun, the swotty Gryffindor allowed herself to be dragged to the middle of a crowd. Blaise and Theo mapped out their evening, planning to act as the other's wing men while searching the crowd for two unsuspecting lovers. Potter quietly drank his alcohol and minded his business, for once not starting a mundane and agitating conversation with Draco.

The blond, for his part, was trying anything not to watch the interaction between Lovegood and Granger, but Lovegood certainly drew attention to herself with her dance moves—a cross between a limping hippogriff and a striking cobra. The Gryffindor did not seem to know quite what to do with the Ravenclaw's dancing, so she instead bobbed her head shyly and shimmied her shoulders in an embarrassed manner. Luckily for her, unluckily for Draco, Potter chose that moment to rescue her. He saddled in between her and Lovegood. Draco again noted how incredibly close they were to one another, though he also saw how Potter's hands never ventured to her bare skin. He did plenty of venturing onto Lovegood's however.

Draco watched the brunette as she laughed at her friends, the way her face lit up the entire space. Blaise stood behind Draco, placing his hands on either shoulder. "Why don't you ask her to dance?" the Italian suggested.

"I don't dance," he mumbled in response.

"Neither does she apparently. But surely you feel the Moondrop by now," Blaise told him.

Draco mulled over his friend's words—he did feel Theo's cocktail working in him. The sneaky Slytherin had designed the alcohol to heighten the drinker's senses. It's strange little side effects had earned him bragging rights in sixth year—it had brought about the hook-ups that had blossomed into relationships.

"Just go up behind her, take her hips and ask her if she would care to dance," Blaise instructed, his attention being drawn elsewhere as a handsome man caught his eye.

Draco stared in her direction as he downed another shot, his vision tunneling to her and only her. He felt slightly predatory as he made his way through the crowd of people to where she was awkwardly dancing as the third wheel. He slipped in behind her and lightly placed his hands on her hips, his mouth close to her ear. "Can I dance with you?" he asked, feeling her stiffen in his hands.

o-o-o

Malfoy's seductively velvet voice tore through the loud, pumping music. Hermione felt her inhibitions lowering as his thumbs ran over her bare waist above her shorts. In response to his question, she simply leaned into him, her shoulders against his chest. She had no idea how to dance, let alone provocatively, but she closed her eyes and let the music thump in her chest. The rhythm worked in time with Malfoy's hands to guide her hips, their bodies not quite touching just yet.

She lifted her hand to touch his neck behind her and he dipped his head to skim his nose along her bare shoulder. The sultry summer night-air was making her feel heady, dizzy in an almost pleasant way. The music vibrated her very core, the vibrato of everyone closely surrounding her working within her body to fuel her movement.

As Hermione's fingernails scraped along the nape of his neck, he moved her curls to the opposite side and lowered his mouth to her shoulder, kissing from the tip of her shoulder all the way to the base of her throat. Wet, open mouth kisses that allowed him to taste the salt from the sea air and the beads of perspiration beginning to form on her skin.

"You taste fucking delicious," he growled into her ear, nipping at the lobe, "but you feel even better."

With that, he pulled her hips so that she was flush against him, her arse creating a satisfying friction with his groin. He let out a slight groan at the contact, moving one hand from her hip and up under her shirt, teasing her exposed mid-drift. His other hand went in the opposite direction, skimming over the outside of her thigh.

The bass in the music was thumping through her, bumping in time to her heart's beat. He was sucking at her neck once more, causing a whimper to slip from her parted lips. Around them, there was a static energy that spurned them on, guiding their movements. Their bodies fit together like a puzzle, no gap between them as her hips ground into him in sinuous circles. Hermione was beginning to feel intoxicated on nothing more than the raw connection she was sharing with the blond wizard, their dancing turning her on more than anything ever before.

The bulge in his trousers pressed against her backside, his hands roamed over her skin. She felt his hand slide from the outside of her thigh, gliding until it skimmed over the inside of her thigh, his thumb brushing below the bottom hem of her shorts. Hermione felt the overwhelming urge to see his face and turned around just as the next song began.

Lights flashed through the dark around them as she looked up to Malfoy's face. His eyes were hooded with unrestrained lust, his tongue wetting his lips as he looked down at her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, dipping her face to kiss the bit of exposed chest his unbuttoned top button allotted. A single bead of perspiration dripped from the hollow of his neck and she dragged her tongue over it in an open-mouthed kiss that mimicked his earlier efforts.

Malfoy's long fingers tightened their grip on her waist before sliding down over her arse and touching the crease just below, where her thighs began. He gave her legs a gentle squeeze, pulling her closer to himself effectively. Bringing his hands up along her sides in soft, sensual touches, he threaded his fingers into her hair, giving it a tug so she would lift her face to his. When she did, his nose traced along her jaw, his lips drawing nearer to hers.

"'Mione!" Harry's voice sounded behind her, causing her to jump a foot apart from Malfoy.

Hermione's eyes shot open and the spell she was under whilst dancing quickly rescinded. For his part, the blond wizard looked ready to knock the intrusive one clear out. Harry looked between the two sheepishly, rubbing his neck awkwardly. "Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt—"

"And yet, you did," Malfoy remarked, crossing his arms over his chest petulantly.

"Sorry. Luna and I are going to head outside for some air. I think Blaise and Theo are already out there," Harry said, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder toward the exit.

Hermione looked at Malfoy. Too embarrassed to look him in the eye, she settled her gaze on the base of his throat. He swallowed hard and shrugged. "Go ahead out, Granger. I'll get us a couple drinks."

He turned and made his way through the crowd toward the bar and she looked at her two friends. Harry was looking awkward and Luna looked apologetic. "Sorry, Hermione. We didn't mean to ruin a moment," she told her.

Hermione sighed and gestured for them to lead the way out. They pushed through bodies, sticky with sweat and gyrating all over the place, and made their way outside. The breeze from the water ruffled her hair and she closed her eyes as she inhaled deeply, trying to steady her erratic heart.

"Whoa!" Harry's voice broke through her peace once more. Her eyes shot open and she saw that Harry's skin was glowing a faint green, Luna's a bright pink. There were handprints of maroon all over the two. She looked at her own skin, a faint yellow light being illuminated from within.

"What the fuck?" Harry asked, eyeing his arms where maroon prints showed clearly.

Malfoy walked out of the crowd and his face broke into a wide smirk as he took in the sight of them. As soon as he stepped into the light of the moon, his skin was illuminated in a deep red haze, lighter orange handprints on the nape of his neck and arms. He had a couple of smudged lip imprints across his chest where she had kissed only a few minutes before. She looked down at her shoulder where he had nuzzled and saw a few tangerine-colored bite marks and lip imprints.

"What the hell did your friend give us to drink, Malfoy?" Hermione demanded, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Moondrop. It's called that because, well, by the light of the moon it causes you to give off a certain hue. Any time someone touches you, your two colors will show up as an imprint," he explained, tracing one finger down Luna's arm and leaving a bright fuchsia trail.

Luna looked at the streak that Malfoy's fingertip had left and then back up at them, beaming brightly. "It reflects our inner auras! How brilliant of Theodore to invent something so creative."

"Auras?" Malfoy snorted. "I highly doubt that is what it's doing. Probably some clever little color-changing charm."

"No, no, Draco," Luna told him, putting a hand to his face and leaving behind a fuchsia set of fingerprints. "Your aura is definitely a deep red—realistic to a fault, survival-oriented, quick to anger. But also, passionate and highly sexual."

"Perhaps this is a little invasive," Harry mumbled under his breath as Luna drew a heart onto his forearm.

"Not at all, Harry. It's amazing!" Luna told him, poking one finger to Hermione's skin. "You are definitely a yellow aura, Hermione—seeking an awakening, intelligent and optimistic. And together, you create orange. How lovely. The color of health, adventure, confidence, energy."

Luna leaned in a little closer to Hermione, careful not to place her hands anywhere Draco's prints were left. "It's also the color of addiction. I suspect when the two of you get together, there will be no separating you—you'll be completely enamored with one another! Isn't that wonderful?"

Hermione bit her lip, feeling her cheeks heat up as she felt Malfoy eyeing her. Harry narrowed his eyes at the two of them. "So…if your color is red and Hermione's is yellow…and there's an orange handprint dangerously close to your…" Harry waved a hand at her inner thighs. "What the hell were you two doing before I interrupted?"

Draco smirked. "I think, Potter, the real question is, what would we be doing right now, had you not interrupted?"

Harry's eyes grew wide and he shook his head. "Come on, Luna. Why don't we take a walk along the beach? I don't even want to know where else his hands have been, and I don't want to stick around to see where they're headed. Oh, and Malfoy?"

The blond wizard gave him a mildly irritated look, his patience wearing thin. "Yes?"

"Hermione is like my sister. I'll kill you if you do anything to hurt her."

Malfoy waved him off and Harry glared at him one final time before he and Luna walked away. Her eyes wandered to her skin, to the handprint that dipped under the hem of her shorts. Merlin, they had been getting carried away. If Harry had not interrupted them, Hermione was certain she would have been snogging Draco Malfoy at this very moment. The feel of his hands running over her arse, the way they had touched the crease between her bum and thighs was brought to the forefront of her mind.

The two glowing individuals we already attracting the attention of curious passersby. An absurd thought hit her as her own hand traced over where his had touched her outer thigh—she was getting turned on by the thought of publicly, possessively being marked up by him. His hands had claimed her visible skin as their territory and the idea of it sent a tingle down to her core. Her hands were shaking with restraint as she kept from touching him, as she so desperately wanted to run her hands underneath of his shirt. She needed to get out of his presence and soon or she would do something they would likely both regret come morning. "I should probably go. I'm—I'm a little tired."

"Hmm, so soon? I'll walk you, Granger," Malfoy offered, his smirk turning into a sexy and smug grin.

"No. I can go on my own," she told him, walking up to him so she could playfully jab her finger in his chest. "That was a dirty trick, Draco."

"Oh, love. You have no idea what kind of dirty tricks I've got up my sleeve," he told her, leaning close enough to her that his breath caused her to shiver. "You needed a little something for tonight—to remember me by," he told her, pulling back and giving her a wink.

"You are insufferable," she told him with a roll of her eyes.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" he asked seriously, the playfulness gone.

"If you would like to. I was going to rent a bicycle and ride around the entire island's shoreline," she told him with a shrug.

"Well. Looks like, for once, you'll be able to teach me something—I've never ridden a bicycle. I'll meet you at noon outside of your villa?" he confirmed, smiling once more at the promise of seeing her again.

Hermione gave him a single nod, raising her hand to trace her initials onto his forearm. "Noon," she stated, giving him her best simpering smile before turning to go, the promise of a tomorrow with him igniting her with anticipation.

o-o-o