A/N: Only a little bit of plot progression in this chapter but you have to watch for it, other than that its mostly them and the rest of their honeymoon. I thought of how to end this story over a month ago, and we're just now coming up to the parts where it's really obvious what was going on in the real world to inspire me haha. I'm kind of making up my own stuff/extending what Rowling has written for us from here forth so I couldn't really go for 100 percent acuaracy. Hope you like it though, let me know :)

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If the guest had been anyone other than the son of Lucius Malfoy, who, although no one even knew there was any doubt due to the extensive façade, was now richer than ever, Hermione and Draco would have been kicked out of the resort. Generally, hotels frown upon couples copulating nearly everywhere.

The manager had to close one of the smaller, prettier beaches on extremely short notice, roping off the sand bars far enough away so an onlooker couldn't see Draco and Hermione "enjoying each others company" yards down the way by some rocks, making love in the surf. Guests were angry of course, since the exquisite beach was private to hotel patrons only, but none of them were worth as much as a Malfoy. The hotel manager ended up concocting some story about an endangered sea turtle laying her eggs and that the area needed to be protected. To his dismay, a certain nature loving family really wanted to see that "once in a life time occurrence" and the manager had quite the time trying to distract them with free casino chips.

On another evening, Draco excused himself off of a panting Hermione to answer the phone…

"What was that?" asked Hermione as Draco reproached the bed, wondering why he was laughing so abruptly.

"They want you to keep it down," he said with a grin. He then made sure that it was impossible for her to do so with no remorse.

Draco would think, after all their heated arguments and Hermione's innate bossiness, that he should've known she would be quite a handful in the bedroom. After the initial shock had finally worn off for the both of them, and the pleasure undeniable, Hermione became quite the opposite of shy. She wasn't about to mess around with the likes of Draco Malfoy, they would, having it her way, do things the way she fancied at that particular moment.

But like a stubborn, self-serving Slytherin would stand for that.

Passionate, aggressive love making would almost always result. Rolling and tossing, clawing and pinning, it is a miracle the bed never broke.

Hermione was actually very angry with Draco on another day when against her will he got her so turned on that she let him go down on her during a carriage ride around the resort. Her own fault of course, she should've known better than to where a skirt. When they pulled back up to the hotel, the manager, who was used to checking on the young couple by now, came to ask how their ride was. Hermione was so embarrassed when she had to pretend Draco wasn't feeling well and had to rest his head in her lap.

"I told you I wasn't in the mood!" she whispered angrily as they walked back to the hotel, hitting him on the arm.

"Yes you were," he said smugly.

"Only after you made in the mood!' she cried angrily, hiding her smile.

It was then that the poor desperate hotel manager, who didn't want to lose every other customer due to Draco, made a frantic phone call to a business friend on the island.

After much begging, he had worked out some sort of deal, because then he approached Draco with a "just for them" offer.

"As our most special guests, it is my privilege to invite you to an evening on a private yacht!"

The hotel manager finally breathed a sigh of relief as the two sex addicts sailed out to sea. Draco, who had been remarkably cheery and even silly for the past few days, was very excited to be on the yacht. Hermione, who found it much easier to be cheerful when Draco was, was excited too. After they figured out how to bewitch the boat to drive itself around the island all night, Hermione immediately went to the mini bar, snacking on the chocolate frogs and jellybeans.

Draco took one look at the bottle of firewhisky and was quick to pop it open. Hermione smirked as they both instantly went where goodies were, they truly were just two young kids allowed to run free on their own. Hermione couldn't help but notice how a happy attitude suited him better than his regular grim snooty demeanor. But maybe that was because one rarely saw a fun loving Draco and Hermione couldn't help but feel like she was in on some special treat. She wondered if it had anything to do with being away from his house and other Slytherins.

After gorging herself on candy, Hermione took her own bottle of firewhisky and began to tour the yacht, which was, once again, nicer and more spacious than her entire house back in England!

"Draco! There's a Jacuzzi over here!" she yelled to him.

No one answered.

"Draco?" she called.

"That's Captain Draco!" he said, emerging through the door in a captain's hat he had found.

Hermione giggled, "You look like the Skipper from Gilligan!" she told him.

"Who?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head as her giggles subsided, "Never mind."

"No!" he said, "Tell me!"

"Never mind!" she said again.

"What? Is it a muggle thing?" he asked.

Hermione glared at the tipsy Draco in the hat, "I'll muggle your thing!" she sneered jokingly.

Next she found herself flung over Draco's shoulder, "This is what you get for being so sexy!" he yelled, and then she was submerged into the Jacuzzi with clothes on and all. The clothes did not remain in the Jacuzzi long however.

… … …

Hermione, cold, naked and still a little wet and drunk, ran to the bed and slipped under the covers. She was surprised to see a remote on the night stand. The friend the hotel manager called must be a muggle born wizard on top of rich enough to have a yacht in Jamaica. She clicked on the TV across the room and flipped through the old syndicated programs. Draco was tinkering around in the kitchen when she stopped on a rerun of Saturday Night Live.

Draco came into the room with a bowl of popcorn and another bowl of freshly chopped fruit. Apparently he was quite interested in actual muggle programming and was staring intently at the screen, feeding himself popcorn as he climbed into bed.

The two had been out of wizard England for a few days now, and Hermione was going to catch up on events if Draco was occupied by the television for the time being.

There was an article about the wedding… but it was by Rita Skeeter and Hermione didn't want to even know… she ventured on to other headlines.

"Fudge prepares for Political Convention" read Hermione as Draco laughed freely and fully at the TV, "Amelia Bones from Wizengamot to speak at Convention"… "Bill to strengthen anti-muggle prank penalties up for consideration"… "Goblin Freedom bill to undergo another reform"…

Hermione frowned at the headlines. Things definitely were in an uproar, the Goblin Freedom bill hadn't passed of course because of the traitor influences among the Ministry, and any bill introduced that had anything to do with harsher punishments for muggle related offenses would surely see the same treatment, and if by some miracle were to become a law, it would take an incredible amount of time. They could reform and reform bills as much as they could so that they may never be properly passed and enforced.

Disgusted, Hermione flipped to the second page only to be presented a picture of Lucius Malfoy, standing behind his desk importantly, yet a friendly smile was on his face. "Famous philanthropist Lucius Malfoy taking a keen interest in the Social Issues of Wizarding Europe and the World Abroad".

"Oh please," Hermione muttered aloud.

Draco looked at her with concerned curiosity and she moved the paper over as to let them both read, "Looks like your father has been very busy while we've been here…"

"Lucius Malfoy, no stranger to all the departments of the Ministry of Magic, having donated quite profusely to a number of noble causes, can be seen within the building more than ever these days. The reason? He claims that as a man of privilege and modest influence he has a moral obligation to help. Malfoy believes, quote: "the wizarding world is seeing its most perilous times." According to Malfoy "the very good and respectable nature of wizardry is being jeopardized by increasing despicable acts." Perhaps wanting to protect the sanctity of all that is magic is the reason Mr. Malfoy is getting more involved in issues that he feels are of the "utmost importance"…"

Hermione could barely stand reading it. Apparently Lucius was getting very active in all kinds of organizations and political groups. He felt it "was important to do his part"; "keep the wizarding world safe and the very nature of wizardry respectable" and that all true lovers of magic and good citizens "should care and participate in the daily routines of the government," or so said the article. "Get involved" it begged.

Meaningless propaganda dribble that basically meant nothing but made Lucius sound very caring and professional.

'Why?' thought Hermione, her mind plagued by perplexity, 'why invest all of his time… into this?!'

Skimming the article even further, she discovered the Lucius was using his "outstanding professional relationships to help rehabilitated ex-convicts find adequate and respectable work"

'Oh no!' she thought in horror, Lucius was trying to get Brusto a job at the Ministry.

"Karkaroff met with Counter Nicholas Greenly earlier today for an interview, the outlook looks promising for a man starting over…" she skimmed further, "'I find it very important that all wizards can take care of themselves financially,' Lucius was quoted to say, 'Brusto has a boy at home with special needs he needs to provide for and he is an able and willing worker! It is horrible to me that he is having a difficult time finding work because of the stigma he receives from being in Azkaban! It is discrimination like this that needs to stop! The Ministry needs to do more for equality! Any person, whether they've been reprimanded by the law, born to non-magical parents, or, or, even bitten by a werewolf should be treated fairly!'" ….but Hermione's mind had already wondered away from Lucius's lies, they hadn't said anything more about Greenly, the name she was suddenly most interested in, the name she recognized from Augustus and Landon Malfoy's unpleasant conversation…

"Who is Nicholas Greenly?" Hermione asked Draco.

"A Counter for the Ministry," he replied, trying to finish the article.

"Yeah but what does a Counter do?"

"Well they do the most work around election time," Draco said matter-of-factly, "You'll be hearing a lot about them in about a year, when they hold the next election for Minster of Magic, the first one we'll be old enough to participate in. The Wizengamot member representing the area we live in votes for who the majority of our area wants. Counter's count the Wizengamot votes and officially declare the next Minister of Magic, it's a very rare and prestigious position, there's no way Brusto will actually land that job… I hope my Father doesn't try to make a big deal about it. Honestly… Ex-Azkaban prisoners with Ministry jobs? Equality my arse, putting criminals in charge of political positions is the stupidest thing I've ever heard…"

But Hermione wasn't listening to Draco's annoyed ramblings about his Father's embarrassing public musings very closely, "Why is that job so prestigious?" she inquired.

"Because they ensure a genuine result," he explained, "You have to be a very powerful wizard to be a Counter. They create and maintain the powerful magical artifact known as the Trove of Smoke; the Wizengamot puts their votes in it. It's impossible for any member to try to cheat and vote twice or change someone else's vote by magic or anything, because the Trove of Smoke detects it.

"That sounds a lot like the Goblet of Fire," said Hermione.

"Yes, it's very similar, it's a complicated object that others can't trifle with," said Draco.

'Barty Crouch Jr. didn't seem to have any trouble,' thought Hermione grimly, recalling how Harry was entered into the triwizard cup. "But surely any magical object could be hoodwinked if you worked at it hard enough?"

Draco looked at her like she had just said she had been abducted by aliens once, "I suppose so, but I don't think a Wizengamot member would ever want to try…"

Hermione frowned a bit, "Good point" she finally answered, "… but what if someone else wanted to?"

Draco had never heard such an odd question, generally most wizards didn't imagine such absurd things happening, "Well it is heavily guarded by the Counters," he said slowly, "and they have enchanted ballots and everything too, you can't fill one out without special identification saying you're a Wizengamot member, then there's signatures and special I.D.'s and stuff, which only Wizengamot members have…"

"Hmmm…" said Hermione and nothing more. She was looking at the article once more, strenuously trying to find the significance if any of Nicholas Greenly and her head was beginning to hurt… Why did he look so familiar anyways? Hermione was sure she had never met him… but where had she seen him?

Her thoughts were interrupted by Draco's scoff.

"'Generous nature'? 'A true patriot'!? Lucius? Hardly! Who writes this rubbish?"

"That fucking bitch Rita Skeeter," muttered Hermione before she even realized it.

Draco looked over at her with wide, surprised eyes, "Wow," he quipped, "That was testy."

"Sorry," said Hermione, "It just took me forever to get rid of her and now she's back, causing even more trouble than before."

"Get rid of her?" he asked.

"Yeah," Hermione explained vaguely, then she kind of shook her head at the idea of explainng such a complex story, "I kind of... blackmailed her. But she deserved it! She was writing horrible lies and breaking all these rules and invading privacy, so I told her I'd expose her… see, she's an unregistered animagus and Harry, Ron and I discover-"

"I know she is," Draco said suddenly, uninterested in any explanation that involved having to hear about Potty and the Weasel.

Instantly the image of Draco and his fellow Slytherins whispering into the hedges popped into her mind, "Oh yeah…" she said, "You were the one fueling her with such great ideas," she said coldly.

There was a stony silence.

"That was years ago," said Draco finally, "I mean, we were14, like we really knew what we were doing…"

"Yeah," she said firmly, "I suppose getting Hagrid's dragon taken away was an accident too," she recalled bitterly aloud, "and you didn't think Buckbeak would really get his head chopped off when you were so unceasingly faking that injury did you? And telling me you hoped the Death Eater found me next, that was just for laughs…" she was unloading her most horrible memories of him quite profusely now, and Draco could sense the hostility rising.

"Hey!" he said defensively, "You know very well he'd have to give up that Dragon sooner or later! And what are you, nutters? That hippogriff never got his head chopped off, he flew away didn't he? And I don't even know what you're talking about with the whole Death Eater's getting you nonsense, I don't know why you'd go and bring up such ancient his-"

"That night at the world cup with the dark mark," she barked, "in the woods! You blatantly insinuated that you hoped the Death Eaters got me next."

"You remember that?"

Hermione's face dropped into deep offense, "Yes!" she said, "I do! But I can see how you might get it confused with the time you said you wished the heir of Slytherin would take me down into the chamber of secrets!"

"What?" said Draco in bewilderment, he specifically remembered saying that to only Crabbe and Goyle in the Slytherin common room, "How did you even know I said…? I never even said that to you."

"So what?" she said, her cheeks flushing pink with emotion, "You still said it, didn't you?"

"Yes," he said softly, seeing painfully for the first time the impact he had had on her, "I did."

He really didn't know what else to say. He didn't want to talk about it, take responsibility for the obvious unforgettably painful marks he had left on her; he didn't want to see the ugly affect he had on such a beautiful face…

Draco Malfoy didn't know the first thing about apologies, having never had to make them often, given who he was. What were these feelings? Was he being pulled by his conscious to say sorry? He didn't like the feeling one bit, it felt… bad. Horrible. Guilty?

He grew even more annoyed and foul tempered. How much would you have to mean it anyway? And how much did he mean what he had said in the past? If he did apologize… would he mean it? How they were they even said? Where did one even start? He did not know…

"We were just kids…" he uttered finally.

Hermione didn't know why she expected more from him but she quickly realized that she shouldn't have, "We're still just kids," she muttered softly, her face still burning hot from the suppressed tears.

'Don't ask Hermione, there's no point…' a voice said softly in her mind. But Hermione didn't listen…. She had to at least try to find out why…

"Why were you so mean to me?" she finally said.

Draco stared off into the room for a bit, making his face completely void of any telling emotion like he so expertly could, "I don't know."

Not wanting to talk, to look at him, anymore, she slumped down deeper into the bed, handed Draco the remote and rolled over to sleep.