Prompt: I think you like it this way.
Rating: M
Warnings: None
Title: Various Accidents, Delays, and Other Misfortunes
Summary: After their honeymoon, Draco and Hermione just can't seem to make it off the island.
The first time, Hermione is almost certain it was a complete accident.
"Draco, hurry up! The Portkey leaves in under a minute!"
"Coming!" he called somewhere from the top floor, his voice echoing down a set of sweeping marble stairs. Hermione tapped her foot impatiently, hefting her bag as thunderous footsteps announced Draco's arrival.
"Here. I'm here," he panted, levitating their valises behind him as he slid to stand next to her in the foyer. "Shall we?"
Hermione reached out for the handle of the coat closet. The inside was completely empty.
"A wooden hanger, right? Where is it?" she said, frowning. "We've still got…" she checked her wrist, "yes, we've still got fifteen seconds."
Draco appeared at her shoulder, inspecting the closet. "Hold on…" he said, digging into the pocket of his trousers. He pulled out a crumpled note, smoothing the edges with a finger as he read. "Right. Let's see. 'Wooden coat hanger. Closet under the stairs. Eleven o'clock."
"Eleven?" Hermione repeated, voice pitching up an octave. "Draco, you said it left at noon!"
He looked up at her with his brows furrowed. "Did I? I can't imagine I…" he trailed off, a mischievous smile suddenly playing on his lips. "Well then, Mrs. Granger-Malfoy. Seeing as we're stuck here another day, perhaps we have time to make use of the honeymoon suite one last time." And without warning, Draco lunged forward, catching her up with an arm under her knees and across her back. She let out a squeak as he took off up the stairs, holding her tightly to his chest. Their luggage crashed to the ground behind them.
The second time is plain bad luck.
"Hermione, I've just gotten off the mobile with the captain," Draco said, flipping the small device shut as he joined her on the loveseat. "The storm is predicted to last through the night. They aren't going to be able to make it to the island this week."
Hermione raised a steaming mug to her lips, sipping while she thought. Heavy rain lashed the front window, beating down so that the nearest palm trees seemed to droop under the weight of it. Wind swirled everything else together in a grey blur. The boat Draco had hired to take them to the mainland kept a strict schedule, and Hermione wasn't surprised that they couldn't make it over in this weather.
She set the empty mug on the side table, curling her legs beneath her and snuggling into Draco's side. She inhaled deeply, savoring the warm scent of him. "Well, I'm sure you'll come up with another way tomorrow. It's not like the Department will burn down without me for an extra day or two, right?"
"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure," he teased, stroking the back of her hair with a feather-light touch. "With the likes of Potter and Weasley involved, anything could happen."
She smiled, thinking of Harry and Ron struggling to write up their case reports on their own. Neither of them had ever cared much for details.
"It's a good thing that the attendant came over this morning to restock our food supply ahead of the storm," she replied finally, a wry smile twisting her lips. "You'll need your strength today."
Moving before he had time to react, Hermione threw one of her legs over Draco's lap, straddling him as she crashed her mouth into his. He groaned, immediately sliding his hands under the hem of her t-shirt to grip her waist. When his teeth came down on her bottom lip, fire shot straight to her center and she couldn't bite back a small whimper. Intent on relieving the ache, she ground her hips over the hardened length of him beneath her, eliciting a low growl from him in response. The fingers on her waist tightened.
"You're right," he breathed, reaching up to tug the hair at the nape of her neck so that she was forced to look at the ceiling. He bucked his hips up against her core, causing her to gasp. "I'm going to need my strength. There are several rooms we've managed to neglect during our stay, and I intend to correct that."
"Mmhm," was all she managed to mumble, panting as he laved hot kisses down her neck.
Draco always did keep his promises.
The third time, Hermione is in complete disbelief.
"What did you just say?" she asked, jaw dropping.
"I said there's a serial Jelly-Leg Jinxer wreaking havoc on the other side of the island," Draco replied, running a hand under his jaw. "They aren't letting anyone off until they find who's responsible."
"But we haven't been anywhere near the village!" she spluttered.
"Yes, well, proper procedures and all…"
Hermione frowned, nibbling her bottom lip.
"Worrying about work?" he asked, brushing her cheek with gentle fingers.
She nodded.
He gathered her in his arms, a positively wolfish smile transforming his features. "I think I can find something to distract you."
By the fourth time, Hermione is starting to have doubts.
"And we can't get a new Portkey, why?" she asked for the tenth time.
Draco sighed dramatically. "I told you, there's a backlog of requests in the Department of Magical Transportation right now. We aren't the only ones caught across the continent due to mismanaged Portkeys. And apparently, they have no use for donations."
She smirked at him. "You mean bribes."
He looked highly-affronted at the accusation. "Donations," he repeated firmly, but the sly smile he shot in her direction gave him away. "You know, there's a whole garden out back we haven't made proper use of yet…"
Laughing, Hermione let him herd her through the glass-paneled french doors as he tugged articles of her clothing to the ground.
The fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth times come in various accidents, delays, and other misfortunes. Hermione's doubt only grows. That is, until the tenth time, when it develops into outright suspicion.
"Really," she said, arms folded across her chest as she leaned against the frame of the open front door. "The island had an outbreak of Loser's Lurgy?"
"That's right, ma'am," the stranger said, nodding eagerly as he twisted his cap in his hands. "We need you to stay inside until it's all clear."
With that, the man turned to leave. Hermione moved to the window and watched him pause at the end of the road, scooping a large amount of something out of his hat and into a satchel.
"Hermione, who was that? Are you ready to go?" Draco asked, smiling innocently down at her.
"Oh, just a man from the village. He says we can't leave today because there's been an outbreak of Loser's Lurgy."
"Is that right?" Draco said, his smile widening. "In that case…"
Hermione cut him off. "Loser's Lurgy? Like the same Loser's Lurgy that Luna insisted was plaguing Ginny when she dropped the quaffle three matches in a row?"
Draco frowned. "I suppose…"
"The disease we all agreed that Luna made up just to make Ginny feel better?"
His frown deepened. "I didn't think -"
Hermione sucked in a breath, realizing something. "Draco Malfoy, did you pay that man to tell me that we couldn't leave today?"
"What?" he exclaimed, eyes wide with feigned innocence. "How could you think that I-"
Hermione jumped in, stabbing a finger to his chest. "I think you like it this way. Just you and I on this island, no one else to interrupt us, and no work to interfere with…" she trailed off, letting her own words sink in.
"Draco, have you been finding ways to keep us from going home?" she asked quietly.
He sighed, shoulders slumping as he opened his mouth to agree. Suddenly, Hermione found that she didn't need to hear it. She laid a finger across his lips.
"I'll tell you what," she said, smiling softly. "One more night. We stay one more night on the island, enjoying each other without distractions, and then I promise, when we go home, I will tell the Department that I can't do overtime anymore. We'll have dinner together every single night, and save at least one day each weekend just for us, no other engagements. Deal?"
His lips curved upward against her finger. "Deal."
She dropped her hand and he leaned in to claim her mouth with his own, sweeping her off to the honeymoon suite one more time.