Disclaimer: The following is a work of fan fiction using characters from the world of Harry Potter, which is owned by J.K. Rowling. The characters, creatures and other related descriptions are also owned by J.K. Rowling. I will not be receiving any monies in relation to this fan fiction. I have also used the HP Lexicon for some minor details.

ISLA MAGICA

TWO

Draco had stayed in his suite for the rest of the week after his dangerous encounter with Weasley. This was the first time he had reacted to a witch in such an unpredictable way – he had been unable to tame the urges in his body, unable to still the brewing storm in the face of Ginny Weasley's inexplicable allure. As such, Draco had thought it best to keep to his rooms until he felt he could keep his primal urges under his brain's rational control.

Today, he had awoken from dreamlessness and took this as a sign that all was well within. Each night before, vivid images of a barely clothed Ginny Weasley had visited him on his balcony, where he would be sat powerful and commanding. She usually begged him on her knees for respite, respite from her unendurable lust for him, and she had tried to deny it for so long... but now, she could take no more. Dream Draco would always keep her waiting longer than necessary, but would of course agree to relieve her of her problem eventually. Not last night, however, and it was this that gave him permission to finally leave his suite. After all, why should he hide from her?

No clouds blemished the blue sky, giving the sun an uninterrupted view of the island and it's surrounding scenery. Draco knew it would be a good day to swim in the lake as most other guests would be down at the beach, taking part in the activities the staff ran. But the beauty of the island lie in the fact that it did not ever have too many guests clogging up space, this was why they could charge so much for a suite. With his wand tucked into his swimming shorts and a towel under one arm, Draco left his suite and made his way down to the lake, having to pass through the communal areas first.

"Ah, Señor!" Matías was hurrying over to Draco from the reception area. "Señor, we have just had this letter arrive for you." He held out envelope and Draco knew instantly that it was a letter from his mother by the handwriting.

Draco waved Matías off. "Send it up to my room, Matías," he said, knowing exactly what was in that letter without opening it.

"Sí, of course, Señor," Matías obliged with a slight bow, then he sidled up to Draco and gave him a sly smile. "Señorita has the infierno inside her, Señor, the fire," he whispered, looking around to see if any of the other staff could hear him.

Draco could not disagree with that estimation on Ginny Weasley's character. "Yes, Weasley can be rather fiery, she's short, she has red hair... typical in England, I assure you."

"Ay no, no," Matías said, gesturing and shaking his head. "Señorita was asking for you, Señor – she has the fire of un amante, a lover."

Draco stared at Matías, he had to blink a few times before he registered what the concierge had said. "Ridiculous," he finally spoke, dismissing him. "Weasley wants to jinx me into next week, that's the fire you're seeing."

Matías looked confused by this state of affairs. "Señor, did you not take the opportunity to romance Señorita Weasley on the terrace last week?"

"That is not your business, Matías," Draco said in a firm voice, despising himself for allowing his mind to wander back to that very sensual encounter he had with Weasley on the secluded terrace overlooking the waterfall. The mere thought of it sent his heart beating double time. Draco shook his head and focused on Matías, who still looked magnificently confused.

"Señorita is a beautiful lady, Señor," Matías said knowingly. "New guests will be arriving soon, some of them young men like yourself." The concierge bowed to him and walked back toward the reception desk without any further comment or look.

Draco knew what he implied – Weasley would not remain available for very long on this island and she was ripe for a fling after being with a dullard like Potter for several years. Not that he cared, he wasn't going to be the one to engage in a holiday romance with her. Such things were sickeningly inane and banal, and he didn't have time for dalliances. First, he still suffered the dreaded writer's block. Second, he had been on course to begin his own family before Astoria returned her engagement ring to him – he was in search of a bride, the mother of his children, not some time-consuming affair.

Draco walked along the old cobbled path, which led away from the main grounds of the hotel and towards the wilder part of the island. The path was covered by wisteria, the scent of them forcing Draco to remember his nose buried into a pearly-coloured throat, drinking in the sweet scent of an inviting woman and so he was glad to finally leave the path. To leave the thought of Weasley back there where she belonged, behind him.

The flora and fauna grew wilder with each passing step, but Draco could still see the shining and smooth whiteness of the hotel, rising up behind him out of the plant life as though it had grown there of its own volition. The sun could only break through to the cool earthy floor Draco walked on by the grace of the leaves moving in the salty breeze, and it gave him some respite from the blazing heat. He walked for some minutes more, his only companions being the birds twittering above in the trees – Draco was certain he had spotted the yellow and ball-like Snidget flying between branches, but lost sight of it when he heard the sound of rushing water some distance ahead. He was close to the lake now.

The natural path gave way to a bank framing the most turquoise water he had ever seen, the trees of the wood edging around the length of lake until they reached the jutting cliff which housed the waterfall. Some of the branches from the trees dropped down into the lake, affording excellent boards from which to dive in from, perhaps naked. One of Draco's favourite pastimes was to skinnydip at least once in every place he visited.

He threw his towel over one of the branches and went to remove his shorts when he heard a humming noise to his far left. Draco immediately stiffened at the sound and snatched his towel up before he could be spotted as he slid behind the large trunk. The humming noise sounded familiar, it was a song he had heard the musicians playing at the bar in the evening and it was definitely a female humming the tune. Draco dared to peek around the trunk and through the intertwining branches in time to see Ginny Weasley emerging from the water, completely naked.

He felt his shoulders slacken and his stomach fall out of him all in one movement as the very real feeling of hopelessness seeped into his body and infected his mind. How could he possibly fight the raging, fiery lust coursing through his blood and rushing to his lower body? The very sight of her creamy looking skin, dotted over with new freckles from her week basking under the sun, sent his imagination into a frenzy of sexual fantasies, each one as unbelievable as the last. It was just his luck that she would be at the lake of all days.

His mouth fell open when she bent to pick up her discarded towel and turned around as she towelled off her hair, her expression distracted by the scenery in front of her. Her breasts were as round as he first imagined, the fullest breasts he had ever seen on a naked woman and then her full hips and thighs framed the most private part of her. Just taking in the damp red, coppery curls that hid what modesty she had left was enough to cause his shorts to tighten in a moment of awful dejá vu.

This was the most beautiful witch he had ever seen and that very thought threw him into a complex mix of emotions – disgust with himself, lust for her, a sense of inexplicable ownership, fear, anticipation... It was overwhelming, and first and foremost of all those was his need to stake his claim over her as Matías's warning words rang clear in his mind. Suddenly he seemed to care very much that there could be a horde of virile young wizards on their way to the island, solely to fight over Ginny Weasley's singular attentions.

With that in mind, and nothing else, Draco hung his towel back up on the branch, left his wand and walked into the cool water, which immediately dealt with the problem in his shorts. He swam with purpose towards the middle of the lake where the sun shone directly through the gap in the canopy of trees.

As expected, a loud gasp came from Weasley's direction and he turned smoothly, treading water as he watched with a smirk as she hid herself in haste behind her towel.

"What are you doing here?!" she shrieked, panic on her face.

Draco chuckled. "I recall you asking me that question already, Weasley," he replied before swimming to her bank.

"Where do you think you're going?" she gasped out as she watched his progress. "You can stay in the water, this is my part of the lake!"

Draco laughed again as he pulled himself up from the water onto the bank in front of her. "You don't own this island, Weasley," he drawled. "I may go where I please. If you don't like it, then you can leave."

Weasley glared at him, and he knew she saw that as a challenge and it was clear to him that she could not turn away from a challenge. "I'm not leaving, you can leave. I was here first."

"I'm not leaving either, so you'll have to endure my presence," he replied, smirking at her as he spoke. Weasley huffed loudly and turned her back on him, giving him another accidental glimpse of her heart-shaped backside, as she wrenched her bikini from the branch it was hanging off of. "Oh, don't get dressed on my account," he murmured, unable to stop his legs from carrying him closer to her. "It would be a shame to hide it away now."

Weasley jumped and spun around to come face to face with him standing mere inches from her. He said face to face, but she had to lift her head to even catch his gaze as he looked down at her. "How dare you look at me?!" she said, aghast as she clutched onto her towel as though it were keeping her alive.

"How could I not?" he asked in all truthfulness, dispensing with the façade. The need to own her grew with each passing second and it didn't have time for Malfoy pride or vendettas. Draco grinned at her as he had her backed up against an ancient tree trunk, her eyes widening to the size of two round galleons as he trapped her between his own body and arms either side of her.

"You did something to me the other night," she whispered, meeting his gaze without fear. "Didn't you? We were eating dinner on the terrace and... well, it all gets a little hazy after that..." she trailed off, but Draco did not fail to notice the blush creeping up her neck and across her cheeks. She was hazy, that was fine, but she definitely had snapshots of their inadvisable tryst on the terrace. "But, you did something. I woke up the next morning with... with bruises on my neck!"

Draco laughed low and glimpsed her throat as he dropped his gaze momentarily. It would be a grand thing to leave more bruises there from his teeth whilst he buried himself deep inside her, over and over. "I didn't do anything you didn't consent to," he replied in a low voice. "You would have let me in your bed if I hadn't put a stop to it."

"Liar! I would never do anything like that with you, of all people!" she said, the fire of her anger spurring him further into madness.

"You were so drunk, Weasley, you probably would have done anything with anyone," he muttered. "Fortunately for you, I'm a gentleman," she scoffed here but he continued as though she hadn't made a sound. "I made sure you got back to your bedroom untouched."

Weasley threw him a sceptical look. "Untouched?" she asked, scoffing again with derision. "Untouched? There were bite marks all over my throat!"

Draco smiled and leant in closer to her, his hand going up to brush over her neck and ignoring the flinch that went through her. "Well, untouched in certain areas..." he chuckled. "It's a shame they've disappeared."

"What in Merlin's name are you doing, Malfoy?" she whispered, her eyes widening as he leant even closer.

The warm amber of her eyes sent him senseless, he forgot she was a Weasley, he forgot they had been enemies. All he could remember now was that she was stood right there in front of him with only a towel covering her nakedness, wandless and at his sweet mercy. "What do you think...?" he murmured before cupping the back of her head and drawing her mouth onto his in one smooth motion. Draco felt her fighting against him, but he was too strong for her and so she slackened. In his madness, he took this for willingness and attempted to deepen the kiss until he realised far too late that he had made a grave mistake. "Ouch!" Draco shouted, jumping back from her and wiping his mouth. She had bitten his tongue! "You fucking made me bleed!"

"Serves you right," she snapped. "How dare you try and stick your tongue down my throat!" She hastened over to where her wand lay at the base of another tree and pointed it straight at him. "I don't know what's wrong with you, Malfoy, maybe the heat has gotten to your head, but don't even think about touching me again."

The blazing look on her face and in her eyes only made him want her more, she was like an unshakeable fever in his blood. Hot and incessant. Something inside him growled in displeasure as she backed away, her wand still pointed at him, before she took off into the trees and left him burning with frustrated lust. Draco had to have her, there was no ignoring this now – he had tasted her briefly and it had been oh so sweet. In that briefest of moments, it had placated that beast inside of him.

He had to taste her again.

Once he had swam enough in the warm water of the lake, Draco returned to his room to shower and ready himself for the evening ahead. He was determined to get Weasley to talk to him, at least civilly. The envelope left on the table in the living room caught his eye, however, and he decided he had better get his mother's message out of the way.

Dearest Draco,

Your father and I would rather like to know when you plan on returning to England. We understand that this little hiccup with Astoria has thrown your plans out of sorts etc., however, you know your father wishes you to be more responsible when it comes to the running of the Malfoy estates. You cannot simply go gallavanting when the mood takes you, and for three weeks together! I presume you plan to spend the entire summer there when you could be here wooing eligible witches of good family and decent fortune.

You know your father and I were married long before our 27th birthdays, and it seems absurd that you have not yet even secured a wife, let alone an heir to the Malfoy name. That damned girl ruined your plans, we understand, but we see this as a blessing in disguise – Astoria was not right for you, nor for the family. You well know our thoughts on her, Draco. She has a pretty face, but she is of a weak disposition – not at all suited to bearing strong children. It will do you no good to mope and pine for her. I will say nothing of Pansy Parkinson, I realise how much you despise her.

Perhaps your foreign trip will be successful in that regard. A beautiful foreign witch could catch your eye. This would avoid mixing of bloodlines at least.

Of course, we miss you as well. Although you no longer live at the Manor permanently, we like to know you are safe in England. Unless your intention is to find a well-fed foreign witch, please do not lengthen your trip longer than necessary.

Your ever loving mother,

Narcissa

Draco had known that her letter would mention his need to find a bride soon, the unsuitability of Astoria and generally guilt tripping him into coming home. He was certain his parents thought he wasn't taking his future seriously – they had been at him to find a bride since they found out Astoria had dumped him, but Draco thought about it in very serious terms as he approached the latter end of his twenties.

He wanted the comfort of coming home to a woman who would ease his worries, kiss him meaningfully when he needed reassurance and to simply spend time with. His flat in London grew lonelier and lonelier with each passing day, so it would be nice to fill the rooms with children.

That evening, Draco dressed himself carefully having decided to venture down to the bar to torture himself further and try and get another chance with Ginny Weasley. No one could ever say he gave up easily. In fact, the sharp pain in his tongue only served to fan the flames of the lust running through him. His only regret was how easily he had disregarded his resolve, a resolve he had built up over the course of a week and which had come crashing down upon seeing the glory that was her luscious body. It was regretful in that he thought himself capable of seeing past such base urges, but no, he was just like any other heterosexual male who had gone for months on end without any female attention.

Draco stood in front of the large floor-length mirror in his bedroom and checked his appearance one last time. His white-blonde hair was styled to fall just over his forehead messily, but he mussed it just that little bit more before smoothing his shirt down and buttoning his tailored dark green velvet dinner jacket. The sun had done him some good as well, as he noted that he had a healthy, light tan. Since there was no more he could do, Draco pocketed his wand and left his suite, anticipation heightening his nerves and senses.

The thought of seeing Weasley again in the dim and sensual light of the hotel bar stirred his desire enough to make him believe she was his. His determination was such that he could not believe anything else. So when he reached the bar, the sound of lively island music reaching his ears, his mind and body were not at all prepared to see the very woman he had been thinking about dancing dangerously close with another man.

As soon as Draco entered through the opulent glass doors of the bar, she was the first thing he saw. Of course she would be the first thing he saw and he stood there, unable to move or think. This man was tanned, dark-haired and tall with a strong and manly face, no doubt he was Spanish. And did Draco seethe with jealousy at the sight of this intruder's hands on her waist, turning her this way and that like some ballroom pro. He hadn't felt so much jealousy since Potter had gotten a Firebolt in his third year and this topped even that, this out flew that ten times over.

Then he frowned, moving closer into the bar and ignoring the chatter of the other guests as he noticed all was not right. Weasley did not appear to be enjoying herself at all, the way her feet stuttered like the intruder were yanking her, forcing her to step with him. There was a definite tug going on between them and her face was set in that familiar expression of anger. Draco pushed through the other dancers, not really aware of what he was doing – he was no hero and she was certainly no damsel in distress, but he knew this seemed like the right thing to do. Only when he reached her and wrenched the intruder away, his eyes met hers and her fist met his face.

"Oh, Merlin!"

"Get away! Saca a este hombre."

The white light that blinded him dissipated and somehow he was laying horizontal, his back on the wooden dance floor with the lights shining brightly in his eyes. A face loomed over him, blocking the glare of the light above and their hair tickled the side of his face.

"Malfoy! Malfoy!" the face said. "Are you alright?"

Draco blinked and focused on the face and slackened when he registered the wide amber eyes looking down at him with horror and concern, the small and slightly upturned nose and the pretty pink mouth of Ginny Weasley. The light shone like a halo around her coppery head, and she was pure fire. In his daze, he laughed to himself.

"Oh no... get the mediwitch," she called out to someone out of his eyeline. Then she touched him and it was like every nerve in his body reawakened and reacted to it, each one electrifying like lightning in a wild storm. "Stay awake, Malfoy," she said, her voice almost panicked, but he couldn't understand why when all he felt was an intense want for her pulsing through him.

"I'm awake... Merlin, I've never been more awake..." he trailed off, his head hurting as he attempted to move it off the floor and kiss her. A foolish move as it was anyway, but he could be forgiven for such trespasses when his mind was recovering from being thumped into next week. "If you keep touching me, Weasley, I'll be more awake than you've ever seen any man."

"What were you doing?" she asked, ignoring his comment as he suspected it came out as nothing more than an unattractive slur. "What did you get in the way for?"

Draco laughed. "Looked like you needed some help," he muttered, the pain in his head blooming quickly.

"Bloody idiot," she said, shaking her head but there was some triumph to be had. Even in his daze, he could see the smallest smile shirking up at the corner of her lips. "I am perfectly capable of handling men like him... as you learned earlier."

Draco could only chuckle again. Yes, he had learnt as much earlier, but now he needed to sleep despite wanting to stare at her for as long as possible and taking in her sweet scent.

"Malfoy! Stay awake!" her voice called him back and he jolted his eyes back open as her hands went to his chest. "You've probably got concussion, I've seen it so many times before... you have to stay awake."

Draco smirked up at her. "The only thing that will keep me awake now is a kiss, Weasley," he muttered. "Maybe this time you won't bite my tongue."

Weasley stared down at him, concern still evident in her face, but she now bit her lower lip and he had never seen someone look so sexy and nervous at the same time. Though he still could not keep his eyes open and he felt himself drifting away... Then there was that lightning again, and it struck hard and fast as her lips connected with his. Draco's eyes flew open to see her face close to his, her hair framing them and it was pure triumph. Clapping erupted around them and she pulled away abruptly, a blush forming at her throat and creeping up to her cheeks in the most unimaginably show of innocence he had ever seen from a woman. How was this possible? How could it be from a Weasley?

"Señor Malfoy, can you hear me?!" A loud voice brought him back sharply from his content flight on a cloud somewhere in the heavens and brought the pain back with it.

"Yes!" he grumbled. "I'm not deaf!"

"Ah, bien." An older woman replaced Weasley in his line of vision and she had her wand out, pointed at his head. "You took this punch very well, Señor Malfoy! But I fear you have a blackened eye already." For some reason, Draco could hear the humour in the Mediwitch's voice and did not appreciate that at all.

"Yes, yes," he said impatiently. "It's all very amusing! Sort me out so I can get on with my evening..."

The mediwitch tsked in disapproval. "Ay no, no, Señor Malfoy, this cannot be possible," she said, shaking her head. "You have the concussion, you will need to stay in the medical suite tonight."

"I will do no such thing," he reacted immediately, trying to get up and foolishly prove he was fine. But his head was having no such bother caused to it and he sank back to the floor with a groan.

"Don't be stupid, Malfoy! Just go to the medical suite," Weasley came back into his line of vision, her hands on her rounded hips and an authoritative expression on her face. She could look rather intimidating when she wanted, even for someone so tiny as her. Though he could detect something like worry behind the frown and that gave him all the incentive he needed. He could work with that.

Draco sighed heavily. "Fine!" This time he steeled himself to get up, not wanting to be levitated to the medical suite. This would be the height of embarrassment. As he rose, he felt himself sway but he managed to catch himself in time with the help of the mediwitch.

"Bien!" she said happily, letting him steady himself before attempting to walk with her. The crowd applauded again, and this only served to inflame the pain in his head even further. How could such a small woman throw such a powerful punch? "Come, Señor Malfoy, to the medical suite."

Draco grumbled whilst following her out of the bar and wondered at his stupidity. If only he had stayed out of it, Weasley clearly had it in hand, but no he had try and fluff his ego and get involved. It boggled his mind that he would do such a thing in the first place; yes, he had seen men off from his own women, but he had never attempted anything like that before. Now he realised why. All because he needed to satiate his undeniable lust for Weasley... it was truly pathetic. What had he become? What had Astoria done to him that made him so desperate now?

"Ah, Señorita," the mediwitch said as they entered the medical suite and turned to look at him. "You must wait outside while I do my work."

Draco looked behind him to see that Weasley had followed them the entire way there, an anxious expression on her face. Even just looking at her, he knew it wasn't anything that Astoria had done that had caused him to behave as he had never done before. It was Weasley. It baffled him how a woman could cause such a storm within him. "It's fine, she can stay," he muttered, emotionally and physically tired by this point.

Whilst the mediwitch examined him further as he lay upon the surprisingly comfortable hospital bed, Weasley hovered about the room in a state of nervousness. "I am so sorry, Malfoy!" she burst out, unable to contain herself any longer. "I wasn't intending to hit you at all..."

Draco scoffed. "Calm down, Weasley, I'm not dying," he said.

"Here, you must drink this, Señor Malfoy." The mediwitch handed him a cup full of a dark blue potion. "For the head." Draco nodded and gladly gulped the liquid down as though he had never had a drink in his life. Almost immediately, the pain in his head began to melt away into nothingness until he could hear without flinching. The mediwitch continued to mutter spells over him after that, though he was unsure what the purpose of them was.

"Well, I just wanted to apologise, that's all," Weasley said, shifting about on her feet from side to side.

"I will get something for the eye, Señor Malfoy, wait a moment, por favor," the mediwitch said, scurrying into the adjacent room.

Draco took the opportunity to speak frankly to Weasley without prying eyes and pricking ears. "I could report you for assault, you know, Weasley," he said, sitting back against the bed and folding his arms behind his head in an effort to appear casual. "First, you draw blood, then you cause me significant bruising... it doesn't look good."

Weasley's eyes widened, and the honey-coloured pools filled him with resolve and determination. He had to have those eyes gazing upon him with unadulterated lust and desire, then she would know what he felt. "That was an accident!" she said, gesturing to his face and stepping closer to him so as not to have the mediwitch overhear.

Draco shrugged. "That's as may be, but you biting my tongue wasn't an accident," he pointed out. "That was very deliberate."

Rage burst into the honeyed depths of her eyes and turned them into fire. "You tried to shove your tongue down my throat!" she whispered furiously, her gaze accusatory. "Merlin knows why..."

Draco chuckled. "Why?" he whispered back, almost surprised at her ignorance. "You must know what you do to a man, Weasley. I may be a Malfoy, our families may be sworn enemies... But I am still only a man."

Weasley looked perplexed. "What are you saying?" she asked, but she knew. Draco could see it in the way she bit her lip and gave the subtlest step back from the hospital bed.

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm saying, Weasley," he murmured. "I shut myself off for a bloody week trying to shake you and then you go and put yourself on display for me..." Draco couldn't help the pleasurable shudder that tore through him at the memory of her nakedness; the thrill that had ripped through him then came back in sharp relief. "It took every ounce of my willpower not to claim you right there on that bank."

Weasley shook her head, silent, her mouth hanging open in shock as she registered what he had just said. "B-But... I'm a Weasley..." she finished lamely, her shock quickly morphing into something that greatly resembled a house elf caught doing something they shouldn't. "Whatever... it doesn't matter. I apologised and that's that." Weasley made to walk off.

"Oh, no, no, no," he said in a hurry, quickly encircling her wrist with his hand to stop her progress. "You will have dinner with me tomorrow night, Weasley, on my boat."

"I will do no such thing," she said, scoffing in disbelief, attempting to wrench her wrist free from his grip but he was stronger than her.

"Would you rather I report you for assault?" he asked innocently. "The Spanish authorities won't take too kindly to a wayward witch who has a drink problem, especially one who is prone to violence."

Weasley gawped at him, her mouth opening and closing rapidly. "Are you blackmailing me?" she hissed. "Are you that desperate?"

Draco smirked. "How else could I ever hope to get you alone, Weasley?" he asked honestly. "You would never have agreed to join me on my boat otherwise."

"Then take the hint!" she said loudly, tugging against his grip again but failing still.

Draco yanked her closer, causing her to end up leaning over him. "You might enjoy my company, Weasley," he murmured. "And no one back home need ever know."

"You are a complete bastard," she said, still in disbelief at the depths to which he would sink to get a date with her.

"That I have never denied," he said and he pulled her down to steal his second kiss from her in one day. This time he kept his mouth firmly closed. Once he let her go, her face was flushed as though he had already taken her and the anger in her eyes was enough to rile the storm that had been calming. "Six p.m. down at the dock, Weasley," he called out to her as she stalked off. "Wear your sexiest dress."

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thank you for the reviews! Please review if you enjoyed, they are much appreciated.