Chapter 35: The Villa
It turned out that oversea travel, with wizards, could be fairly complicated depending on your destination. Usually, you would have to arrive at a checkpoint by floo or apparition, fill out a ton pf paperwork and go through customs. However, like most things in life money could take care of such troubles. If you owned property it all became much simpler, as long as you were traveling there in a direct connection. They used a portkey to travel straight to the villa. The extra-long spinning trip made them all a little dizzy, but overall Hermione was impressed with how quickly she could go over several countries and a sea.
"Oh my… look at how blue the water is!" Ginny shrieked, running up the beach and straight to the water, not even wasting a moment to put her luggage in the house. She opted to just chuck it to the ground before she jumped shin-deep into the water, splashing around.
Frankly, she was adorable. Hermione smiled, shaking her head and looking around.
The villa had a terracotta orange roof, stucco walls, and two floors. It looked pretty large and out of place on the completely empty beach… except, of course, for the wires running out and far away towards a small road cut into the vegetation past the sand.
"Telephone?" Hermione asked, and Draco laughed.
"You would notice that- white sand beach, sparkling blue water, your friend screaming like she's five, and you notice the ugly tellyphone poles. And no, we don't have a tellyphone. The place was owned by muggles before us, and the city wouldn't let us tear them down. Very stubborn around here. Trust me, father tried, but we didn't want to push the issue and draw attention to ourselves." The group walked forward, Harry laughing as he tried to haul Ginny out of the water and Ginny reciprocating by kicking water at him. Draco pulled out his wand, levitating the fallen bags and walking towards the oceanfront door of the villa. "We do, however, have electricity. Not sure why, or how it works, but a company takes money from our account every month to pay for it."
"You have electricity," Hermione repeated, completely lost.
"Well," Pansy said, coming up on Hermione's right, "do you expect us to constantly cast warming charms on the hot tub? No house elves out here."
"Hot tub?"
"Seats eight."
"Huh."
Of course. No television, no radio from this decade, no electric light at the Manor, but they had a hot tub at the Villa.
"It came with the place. I like it," Draco said with a shrug.
Hermione decided not to point out how obviously odd it was for the two previously-anti-muggle Slytherins to have enjoyed a very muggle device on vacation. She doubted it was something they gave much thought to.
The inside of the house was very warm, open, and sunny. There were windows thrown open to the soft breeze, white gauzy curtains fluttering. The floors were wood and tile, and besides a nice sitting room with a sliding door overlooking the beach, there were four bedrooms, a kitchen, bathrooms for all of the bedrooms, a dining area, and a garden out back. The "hot tub worth keeping electricity" was on the porch, just past the sliding doors.
"Oh, I like this place much better than the Manor," Hermione said as Draco showed her around, pausing briefly at the incredible fairy-like canopy bed in the master bedroom. Pansy and Pietro had run up the stairs to claim a room that was apparently one of Pansy's favorites, and Harry and Ginny could still be heard outside, laughing.
"Oh? It's nice for a vacation, but it's not really homey, is it?" Draco asked.
Immediately, Hermione fixed him with a darkly humorous look. "And the Manor seems… homey, to you?" Draco blinked down at her, silent and clearly not understanding her astonishment. The Manor was so far gone from any word Hermione could ever associate with "homey": cozy, intimate, comfortable….
But no matter how she saw it it was, for Draco, the only home he'd ever known. She smiled, shaking her head. "I suppose anywhere where I can be with you is comfortable for me."
"Cheesy," Draco teased, rolling his eyes despite the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Suddenly, he pulled on her hand, bringing her forward into the bedroom. Hermione let out a small squeak of surprise at his sudden jog across the room, and he quickly threw open a door on the other side of the bed.
There was a balcony. Hermione stared, feeling her breath catch at the sight of so much shining teal water expanding in her view. "Wow." She managed, the soft breeze blowing her hair around despite all the clips she had used to control the shortened mass of it.
"Yeah. I thought you might like it." He was practically giddy, grinning down at her. He pointed off slightly to the right, and Hermione noticed a dark shape in the water not too far away. "That's my island."
"Your island. You have an island."
"Yep."
"You're showing off now, aren't you?"
"Oh, most certainly." He pointed in the opposite direction, and Hermione noticed a small pier leading out into the water.
"And that's your yacht." Hermione guessed, shaking her head in wonder. "Or by 'your,' do you mean your family's?"
Draco shrugged. "Same difference really, but if you want to get technical I mean mine. My parents gave me this whole place for my sixteenth birthday."
Hermione thought of television programs involving whiney sixteen years old wanting a car. This was on a whole other level.
"So, are you suitable impressed? Do I have a good chance of scoring tonight, or what?"
Hermione was still thinking of some kind of snappy comeback when Draco suddenly pointed to the right again, back to the tiny island. "See that?"
"The island?"
"Yes. I plan on shagging you senseless over there. And see that?" He was pointing to the yacht.
"Uh, huh."
"Gonna bang you over there, too. And the hot tub?"
Hermione knew what he was doing, now, trying to get a rise out of her. She could feel the heat coming to her cheeks and her breath quicken, even those the slightly sadistic smirk on Draco's face made it obvious that that was his intention. She thought she had built up a bit of a tolerance to his more sordid language when they were alone, but in fact she had not. She shook her head, trying to act nonchalant even though she felt a little dizzy.
He leaned in close now, one arm snaking it's way over her hips in a warm glide. "There will definitely be some good times in the hot tub, too."
"You do know there are other people on this trip," she managed without stumbling, just before Draco slipped his hand over her butt, gripping firmly and pulling her flush against him.
"Let them get their own island," he said, before crashing his lips over hers eagerly. She practically melted in his arms, already boiling from his declarations.
"Ewwww!" called a voice playfully, and Hermione jerked back her face enough to look down from the balcony. Harry and Ginny were heading in, and Draco and her had been making out in the very open space of the balcony. Hermione knew another wave of embarrassment, but she couldn't even step back a pace thanks to Draco's arms wrapped firmly around her. "Are you going to take your hand off her butt?" Ginny added, grinning from ear to ear.
"Not if I can help it," Draco called back down. Hermione wasn't sure she approved of this camaraderie Draco and Ginny seemed to be developing. It could only be more trouble for her and Harry, who was also looking miserably embarrassed. He was giving her an unfathomable look, switching rapidly between disgust, confusion, and wary acceptance.
Hermione dislodged herself from Draco's arms and led the way back through the house and down the stairs to the main living space, trying to control the burning on her face as Draco chuckled behind her. Pansy was seated on the couch, legs crossed and looking disgruntled. Pietro sat beside her, flipping through a coffee table book that he had found.
"Finally!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air. "I'm starving- what are we doing about lunch?"
"Finally? It's only been a few minutes, Pansy," Draco replied.
"Your lack of run time in bed is not my concern. You should pay attention to your guests before you go hopping off with your Gryffindor virgin."
Hermione's mouth fell open. "I am not appreciating the nickname."
"Oh, good. Then it'll stick," Pansy added with a smile. Somehow, Hermione got the distinct impression that she was maybe a couple degrees less malicious than usual, which probably meant she was being friendly. Probably.
"Hey, if she gets to be Gryffindor virgin, then does that make you Slytherin slu-" Ginny started, having entered the room right in time to hear the start of the conversation, but noticing the maximum-powered look of venom Pansy was throwing her way, curtailed her sentence to an abrupt end. "slu- sluice."
"Sluice?" Pansy asked, eyes narrowed.
Hermione snickered. "It's a kind of floodgate."
"Exactly. And I challenge any of you to try and beat me at scrabble," Ginny added, having a seat next to Hermione.
"Anyways… on the subject of food," Draco said, clearly trying to divert the conversation to less dangerous areas. "We don't keep house elves here…"
"Oh, good. I find them entirely too grainy, anyways," Ginny piped up, and everyone but Hermione laughed. Even Pansy, though she looked ashamed of herself immediately afterwards. Probably not for the same reasons as Hermione.
"We keep the place stocked with food though. There should be some steaks. And there's a grill," Draco continued.
Hermione stared. "You can make your own food!?"
"Really? You felt the need to sound that surprised?"
"Surprised? I almost fell out of my chair!" Hermione found the image of Draco, standing outside, grilling steaks for his friends almost disturbing it was so out of place.
Pansy rolled her eyes. "Actually, Blaise usually cooked on our trips. He likes it, plus Draco tends to forget what he's doing and lets the food burn to shit." That was the second time Pansy had mentioned Zabini. If mentioning her friend's name after his betrayal was painful, Pansy was damn good at hiding it.
"Thanks, Pans."
She smiled sweetly, tilting her head to the side. "Let's not forget the time you burned down half the kitchen, and we had to actually port all the way back home to get a house elf to come feed us so we wouldn't all starve. I might add, that was one of the weekends Blaise couldn't make it."
"Oh, shove it," Draco muttered, shaking his head. "I can handle-"
"We're all going to starve to death by the time anyone actually gets to work," Hermione interrupted, standing up and walking towards the small kitchen. She pulled a couple steaks from the freezer, some corn from the fridge, and some tin foil.
She shook her head as she passed everyone on her way out through the living room, arms loaded up with food and supplies.
Harry smiled. "We can't let her cook all weekend- she gets rather grumpy about it."
"Only when certain boys treat me like 'mommy' for half a year," Hermione yelled back through the open screen of the back porch door, firing up the grill with a wave of her wand against the coals.
After lunch, they headed for the beach, Pansy levitating an oversized umbrella to trail behind her, which she promptly sat under and refused to emerge from. "The sun's bad for your skin," she said by way of excuse, but Hermione got the feeling that she probably wasn't feeling up to running around and swimming. She was more than a few months pregnant at this point, Hermione guessed, and she had been looking a little green since they had used the portkey.
Hermione had actually taken an embarrassingly long time deciding on a swimsuit to bring for the trip. She knew that witches and wizards wore swimsuits, but they were always a little dated. In other words, a little more modest. Women's swimsuit designs she had found at the tailors were all up to the neck, with thick straps and fabric low on the thighs. Kind of like something you would see from the 1940's, and they were always paired with a wrap and shawl of some kind. You could barely even see the swimsuit on the mannequins.
Pansy hadn't even bothered to change into a suit, but Hermione guessed that she would have worn something similar. Lucky for Hermione, Ginny had dragged her along to shop in a muggle store for suits so they could "coordinate."
It was like Ginny could read her mind. Definitely less awkward wearing a bikini if you're not the only one.
...
When Hermione and Ginny came out of the house and onto the beach, arm-in arm, Draco almost dropped his wand.
He had been fighting a losing battle with the umbrella Pansy had brought- the wind kept blowing it away, and neither he nor Pietro knew a sticking charm that would work on sand. Honestly, how did he get such a high maintenance friend? Trick question- he was fairly certain he qualified as "high maintenance," too.
He had expected Hermione to look good in a swimsuit. He hadn't expected muggle swimsuits to contain less fabric than muggle undergarments, stretched incredibly thin over her curves. Merlin. How was he supposed to enjoy a fun, laid back day when she looked like that? Currently, he wanted nothing more than to separate her from her friend, throw her over his shoulder, and bring her directly to their bedroom.
His eyes skimmed her hungrily, and the forgotten umbrella fell to the beach… right on Pansy.
"Hey!" she yelled, and Pietro pulled it off her quickly, smiling.
"I think your friend is otherwise occupied," he informed his wife, who looked back over her shoulder and rolled her eyes.
Harry came out of the house behind the girls, carrying a cooler, and he hurried to catch up to them. The three of them walked up, and Draco wondered how everyone else could just be so calm and collected when there were two practically nude girls walking around.
This was going to be one of those muggle things that made him look ignorant, wasn't it? He should just act natural, and not like a wide-eyed gawking statue.
"You know, they do have nude beaches in this country," Pietro informed him, dragging him out of his trance. Pansy tsked, and Pietro laughed. "What? I'm just pointing out that to those used to muggle fashion, those bikinis are hardly considered extreme. My advice is to compliment her on the color, Draco, like it actually matters."
By the time the trio had made it to their little spot of beach, Draco had managed to deduce that the color of the swimsuit was the same blue as the ocean. Ginny's was some kind of hot pink number, though he was diligently trying not to look too long in that direction. Too awkward, his wife's friend dressed like that… or rather, undressed like that.
"Uh… blue," Draco managed to blurt.
Hermione cocked her head to the side, a smile sliding onto her face. "Blue?"
"Yes. Your swimsuit."
"Yes. Yes it is that."
"It's nice. The blue, I mean."
"…thanks?"
He shot Pietro a frustrated look, as if it were his fault for suggesting the compliment and not his own fault for the horrible delivery. The older man just shook his head, finally getting the umbrella far enough into the sand that it stayed put. Pansy gave him an appreciative look as he sat down in the shade next to her.
Harry placed the cooler close enough that it fell in the shade of the umbrella. "There. Cleared out half the butterbeer left in the fridge, if anyone gets thirsty."
"Oh. Thanks bunches," Pansy said with a straight face. The sarcasm was clearly implied, though, as she pointed to her stomach.
"Well, obviously I didn't mean you. There's bottled water in there, too," Harry said, and Draco thought he heard him muttering something about "ungrateful sarcastic divas ruining the weekend."
Draco wondered exactly what he meant with the plural.
Ginny suddenly grabbed Harry's arm and hauled him to the water, calling out, "Last couple in is officially the least cute!"
"What?" Draco asked to no one in particular, and Hermione grabbed his hand and started running after her friend, leaving him no choice but to run along with her.
The water was, as usual at this time of year, the perfect temperature. On either side of the area directly in front of the villa there were a lot of large, sharp rocks, but the area set aside for swimming was covered by soft white sand. Draco was fairly certain the muggles they bought the place from had had the sand brought in from somewhere, though he had no idea how muggles could accomplish such a thing.
Ginny shrieked as Harry, running at her heels, fell and pulled them both face-first into the shallow water. Hermione laughed. "Does that mean we win, or lose?" she wondered, smiling up at Draco as they hurried deeper into the crystal clear water. She was still holding his hand, her other hand busy trying to brush her frizzy hair from her face as the wind fought against her. Her hair was short, but still so stubborn.
"Hey, I can fix your hair," he said suddenly.
She stared at him. "How?" she barely managed to ask before he grabbed her in a tight hug and pulled her bodily under the salty water with him.
She jumped up, struggling out of his grasp, sputtering. "You! Do you know what salt water will do to this mop!? Do you!?" For the time being, however, her hair hung down completely straight, gaining a little extra length in the process.
He grinned, feeling mighty pleased with himself all of a sudden. Why was it still so much fun to pick on her?
"Aw, you two are so darn cute!" Ginny said, swimming up closer to them even though the water was shallow enough to walk.
"Cute? Did you miss the part where my hair was assaulted? I didn't plan on getting it wet… sigh… it's a lost cause anyways."
"Nope. Not a lost cause," Draco leaned in close, grabbing Hermione around the waist. "Your hair is absolutely perfect for grabbing onto when we-" Hermione splashed him, cutting off his whispered sentence.
Harry wadded close behind Ginny. He was avoiding looking at Hermione, now, using the yacht parked a ways away as an excellent excuse for something else to look at. Draco knew that this whole situation was odd… who would have ever thought he'd be comfortable at the beach with Potter? When did that happen, exactly? The comfortable around part, that is?
Probably when he offered to help, after the Weaslette's party. Draco had particularly liked how quickly Harry had grasped their situation, and even though Draco hated the charity, it was interesting that Harry didn't just focus on Hermione but included him in his crazy little 'come stay at our place' scheme. Not that there was much choice when it came to their ring-confinement, but still, the gesture had been appreciated.
In addition, now that he truly cared for Hermione, it was nice to know there was someone else who would protect her no matter what. Harry had been there for her, stood up for her, fought with her, for many years now. Draco was the one who was new at this. What had Draco ever protected before? Certainly not his friends.
So, in an odd way, Draco had developed a strange sort of respect for Harry.
The feeling, however, was probably not mutual. Harry looked extremely uncomfortable around Draco, which could only be because of the way he was constantly touching Hermione. While Ginny seemed to have accepted their relationship before they even had, Harry appeared to be having a rough time of it.
And Draco found it just funny enough that he wanted to exploit it.
"Hey, Potter, eyes off the yacht. I got big plans for it this weekend, and it doesn't involve any of you!" he said, trying to keep his face schooled as serious as possible while he threw and arm around Hermione's shoulders.
Harry just shook his head. "Not a big fan of boats, myself…" he said, but his face seemed to get a little pink, so he definitely noticed Draco's implications.
Ginny jabbed him in the ribs lightly, grinning. "That's okay Harry. We can just swim out to that island then, right?"
"Hey! No way- the island also won't be a group trip!"
"Who says?" Ginny taunted like a kid, sticking out her tongue in Draco's general direction.
"The guy who owns it!" Draco declared, and Hermione rolled her eyes.
"He just loves saying that. You led him riiiiight into it, too."
"In case you didn't know, we're not the kind of crowd that's big on following the rules," Ginny said with a grin, and Harry sighed heavily.
"How about tomorrow?" Hermione suggested. "We can all check out the island."
"Hey! Am I being ignored, here?" Draco whined.
Hermione put a hand on her hip and looked up at him. "I'm your wife, remember? Half that island is mine. We'll be sure to only walk on half of it."
Draco didn't know what to say to that, so instead of words he proceeded to dunk Hermione below the gentle waves again.