She woke the next day feeling considerably better than she had the previous morning; any feelings of mistrust or fear having been banished the night before. They could not languish in bed all day as they had previously done, however, as they only had an hour or so to get ready to take their Portkey to Australia for the match. She descended the steps into the Entrance Hall at exactly five minutes to ten. He found himself again captivated by the beauty she seemed to exude no matter what she wore. Dressed in a pair of figure hugging jeans, silver heels and a thin, short sleeved grey jumper with a slash-neck that showed off her shoulders, she looked irresistible and, if he dared think it, the perfect wife.
"Beautiful." He commented as she came to stand beside him. "Although a little too innocent for me." He finished with a mischievous smile as he wrapped his arm round her waist.
"Don't worry," she reassured him with the same mischievous look, "I've got a wardrobe especially for you." She added in a whispered undertone.
"Excellent. Shall we?" he offered her a chipped teapot. Any Muggle would have found theme supremely odd; standing in such an opulent place clutching a dirty, chipped teapot as if it was something important. They, however, knew better and, seconds later, a cool voice announced 'nine fifty nine am Portkey to Australia' and they felt the familiar tug behind their navels and they lurched forwards in a whirl of colour.
Their arrival at the other end was considerably less dignified and he actually had to catch her as her knees buckled as they hit the floor. She decided that, in the future, she wasn't going to travel by Portkey when wearing heels.
"Where are we?" she asked as she struggled to see in the dark. It was ten in the evening now, twelve hours ahead of England.
"Where we're saying, look." He said, pointing out a small lit pathway through what appeared to be palm trees. In the distance she was sure she could hear the sounds of waves breaking on sand. She could do nothing to ignore the building excitement inside her as he led her by the hand through the trees towards a large, softly lit villa.
"Wow." She breathed as she gazed up at the large building. Leading her up the steps, they were met by a house elf that took their bags and showed them around the villa whilst informing them that he was their cook and cleaner for the duration of their stay. Kathryn stepped in first to say thank you before he could sneer and kick it across the room. The house elf bowed low and disappeared with a crack as she informed him that they had eaten and his services were no longer needed.
"I do not care how you treat your elves at home," She told him in a stern voice, "but be sure you treat this one with as much respect as you can manage, after all, you don't own him." She warned with a wag of her finger.
"Certainly Madam." He replied sarcastically, giving her a mock bow as he did so. She laughed as she looked at him standing in the doorway and, within moments, he had crossed the room to her and swept her up in his arms. He lifted her up off her feet and spun her round as her arms clung onto his neck. He realised how much he loved the sound of her laughter as he spun her round.
"Stop!" she cried out. "You're going to make me dizzy and then how am I to stand in these shoes?" he set her down and lowered his lips to hers, holding her face in his hands as he did so. He carefully hid his disappointment as she pulled away and went off to explore the rest of the villa he had rented for their stay. He found her a few minutes later on the balcony that jutted out over the sea, looking at the bottle of very expensive champagne that was waiting in an ice bucket for them and a silver bowl of strawberries that was next to it.
"Not bad." She commented, pouring it into two crystal flutes and taking a sip of hers. "Obviously not skimping on the luxuries are you?" she smiled over her glass at him, taking a bite of a strawberry.
"Do I ever?" he asked, taking his glass and leaning on the edge of the balcony next to her.
"True." She moved closer and rested her head on his shoulder as she gazed out onto the black ocean; listening to the sounds of the local wildlife as they went about their nightly activities. With a leisurely flick of his wand, the Wizard wireless in the lounge area flicked on and the soft tones of an unknown artist drifted out into the night. Taking her glass and placing it on the railing, he positioned one hand on the small of her back and pulled her close. With the other her hand he took hers and, ever so slightly, began to move to the music. She allowed her head to once again rest on his shoulder as they danced slowly in the dim light.
Despite the fact that they had only risen a matter of hours ago they retired to the master suite after only a few hours. Like everything in the villa, the furniture was decorated with contrasting sets of light and dark colours. In this case, the king size four poster bed was simply carved from the native Red Gum tree and had the appearance of just growing out of the floor. The wood was, therefore, a beautiful shade of red and this was contrasted with pale cream linens', pillows and hung with pale cream gossamer curtains to keep it cool in the heat. It was a stark difference to the ornately carved, grand four poster that she had slept in the previous night. She didn't really care, however, as she lay in his arms and drifted off to sleep; somehow unreasonably tired considering how long she had been awake.
It was only the next morning that she was fully able to appreciate the beauty of her surroundings. Walking out to the balcony in her small nightdress she found that, instead of being a few metres away, their balcony actually jutted out over the sea itself. They seemed to be situated on a promontory that jutted out into the crystal clear ocean. A cove with pristine white sands went off to their left whilst to their right there were only trees that bordered the rocky shoreline. It was then that she gave in to the temptation of the crystalline water.
He woke the next morning to find her gone, only the crushed bed sheets and the dint in the pillow to suggest that she had been there. He showered and dressed before setting out in search of her. She was nowhere in the villa and their house elf informed him that she had gone out over an hour ago. Standing on the balcony with a cup of coffee, something caught his eye in the crystal clear ocean. It looked like a large fish swimming below the surface; at least, that was until it broke the surface and a familiar head appeared. Shaking her sopping hair out of her eyes, she fell back and floated on the surface of the water. He could see the many brightly coloured fish that swam about her, occasionally weaving in and out of her hair. Abruptly she turned over and dived beneath the waves once more, her arms spreading out and pulling her in the direction of the balcony. She only rose for air once as she swam over, moving with the grace and speed of a practiced swimmer that could make their air last for a long time.
She stayed beneath the surf until she was directly beneath where he was standing on the balcony; able to do this due to the way their balcony jutted out over the water.
"Morning!" she said brightly, wiping the water off her face and scraping her hair out of her eyes.
"Taking full advantage of the facilities I see." He commented, looking down at her in her skimpy black bikini, unable to suppress a smile.
"I'd be a fool not to." She stood, water dripping off her, and climbed onto the pontoon and then up the stairs at the side of the deck. In his usual gentlemanly manner; he wrapped a towel around her shoulders and pulled her to him, apparently not caring if he got wet.
"So," she turned her head towards him, "anything special planned for today."
"No, why?" he asked her intrigued.
"Well, it's just that we've got this beach that is just perfect for surfing." She spread the towel on one of the wooden sun loungers' and lay down.
"Excuse me?" he wore a puzzled look on his face as if he had no clue what she was talking about.
"Oh, I forgot; you and your Muggle hatred. Surfing," she began, "is a Muggle sport that's really quite fun. Australian wizards do practice it though, it's quite addictive."
"What exactly does it involve?" he asked apprehensively.
"Oh, I'll show you later." She sipped her coffee, giving him a mysterious smile.
Later that morning, after pulling on some clothes and swinging a bag over her shoulder, she disappeared out the front door and walked down into the nearby Muggle town. It was busy with the usual crowd of shoppers and surfers. Nipping into a fairly unobtrusive little shop that she knew by reputation only, she found exactly what she was looking for. She was surrounded by racks of what had to be the best surfboards she had ever seen. Within five minutes she was talking animatedly to the owner who was able to tell exactly what kind of board she needed by just looking at her build. Within an hour she was walking out the shop with a stylish, black board underneath her arm. They had even sprayed on her own custom design at no extra cost; a stylised version of the Gryffindor lion in reds and gold. In the other hand she had a bag containing its special protective case and a bar of surf wax.
He looked exceedingly puzzled as she stepped into the lounge.
"What," he pointed to the board under her arm, "is that?"
"That is a surfboard." She told him matter-of-factly, dumping her bags on the sofa and leaning the board against the nearest wall. "Now hold on a minute." She disappeared into the bedroom to get changed; reappearing minutes later in her black bikini.
"What exactly is the point of this?" he asked incredulously.
"You'll see, come on." She tucked the board back underneath her arm and grabbed the bar of wax. Curious, he followed her out of the side door and down the path that led to their private beach. The white sand was hot beneath her feet as she walked towards the waters edge and stuck the board into it.
"Now what?" he asked in the same apprehensive tone. "Do you bewitch it or something?"
"No. Surfing just needs skill and practice; kind of like Quidditch. You just need to stay on." She explained, rubbing some of the wax onto the surface of the board. "We're still getting good waves," she pointed out the large breakers in the cove, "just watch." She pulled her board out of the sand and waded into the surf. Once she was waist deep, she pulled herself onto the board and started to paddle out. She stopped where the waves were at their largest and turned around to face the shore. She was concentrating very hard, having not done this for a while, and continually checked behind her for the big waves.
From the beach he watched as she started to paddle forwards as a huge breaker reared up behind her. He reached for his wand in an instant; she wasn't going to make it, he thought, the wave was going to come crashing down on top of her and she would most certainly drown. He paused, however, when he saw what she did next. Once she was travelling very fast, he saw her raise herself up and place her feet on the board. Out in the ocean, Kathryn felt the familiar exhilaration as she rode the wave, twisting the board like it was attached to her feet and hurtling down the tunnel created by the wave; her fingers running through the wall of water as she went. Back on the beach, he watched in amazement as her silhouette moved through the tunnel of water and emerged at the end. She did not stop there, however, staying on the board and riding the crest of that wave all the way to the shallows.
"That," she said triumphantly, "that is surfing!" she splashed towards him, dragging her board behind her.
"Interesting," he conceded, "pretty amazing actually." He smiled, unable to disguise his astonishment.
"I'm going again." she turned and ran back into the water and paddled out again. She skimmed across the peak of this wave, zigzagging down it in the way skiers did on the alpine slopes. He stood and watched her for some time, marvelling at the way she gracefully moved; turning the board to her will and gliding across the surface of the waves. Laughing as she wiped out and crashed into the crystalline water; every time surfacing and starting again. He retreated back to the villa once he could no longer ignore the pangs of hunger in his stomach but she stayed out until late afternoon. He watched her from the veranda until she lifted the board beneath her arm once more and began to slowly walk back to the villa. Instead of taking the path, however, she waked through the shallows towards the balcony and climbed up onto the pontoon; leaving her board to dry off there before climbing up onto the deck.
"That," she sighed, flopping down onto a sun lounger, "was great."
"Drink?" he asked.
"Lemonade would be wonderful." He waved his wand and a pitcher appeared along with a glass full of ice. "Thanks." She took a long drink, relishing the cold liquid as it flowed down her throat. He took this moment to study her; something he liked to do. She was positively glowing; beads of water clinging to her skin that had slightly darkened in the sun, her eyes glistening like a pair of jewels.
"Dinner will be ready soon." He told her. "If you're hungry."
"Starving, I forgot about lunch." She smiled sheepishly and took another drink.
"Obviously."
"I'm knackered too." She stood and walked over to him, sliding down onto the lounger next to him and resting her head on his shoulder. He coiled his arm around her waist as she lay there, just resting, but making his heart flutter in an unexpected way. He would never have expected her to come so close so willingly when everything first began. He pushed these thoughts from his mind as his fingers stroked through her wet hair and her hands toyed with the buttons of his jacket; tracing the engraved design on them with her nail.
After only about half an hour, their sphere of tranquillity was broken by the arrival of the house elf to inform them that dinner was ready. Kathryn slipped into the bedroom to pull on something a little more substantial than her black two-piece; returning in a skirt short enough to be teasing, but long enough not to be sluttish, and a gauzy top that he could still see her bikini top through. They spent dinner discussing the forthcoming match; arguing over the merits of both teams and which was likely to be the eventual victor.
They retreated to the now candle-lit balcony with their wine once the meal was finished. She leant against the balcony and looked out to the horizon where the sun had almost disappeared below the sea. He stood beside her, savouring every brush of his skin against hers as she sipped her wine.
Once she had drained the remnants of the deep red liquid from her glass, she set it down on the table before turning back to the balcony. She placed her bare feet onto smooth wooden bars of the balustrade and, in one smooth movement, had hoisted herself up so that she was sitting on the top rail with her back to the ocean. He moved out of the way as she slid along to sit in front of him before moving back towards her and resting his glass on her knee. She shuddered as the cool glass touched her skin and he smiled at the innocence of her reaction. Her change of clothes had still left her with much skin exposed and he capitalised on this, the fingers of his free hand running down the smooth skin of her leg. He too drained the last of his wine and threw the glass onto the soft cushions of one of the loungers. Turning back to her, he moved closer and traced his other hand down her leg. He gave a roguish smirk before he moved both his hands further up and beneath the fabric of her skirt.
"Greedy." She whispered in his ear as she coiled her arms around his neck. She kissed him hungrily, his mouth tasting fruity from the wine.
"Speak for yourself." He whispered back, kissing her neck and feeling her racing heartbeat beneath her skin. His hands shifted position and began to work their way across her back until they reached the strings that held her bikini top in place. With one sharp tug the strings around her back loosened. With another, the threads around her neck fell free. She felt his hands pull the top free of her neck and heard the faint splash as it fell off the balustrade and into the water below them. She slid gently down from the rail and stood before him, looking into his once cold grey eyes now alight. His fingers traced the area where his ring had left its mark only four days ago.
"I'm so sorry." He whispered. Kathryn could not believe it; Lucius Malfoy was actually apologising for something he'd done.
"It's past, there's nothing you can do about it now." She reassured him, kissing his cheek. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, moved by his heartfelt apology.
She allowed him to scoop her up into his arms and carry her back into the villa where he lay next to her on the bed; attempting to further heal the wounds he had caused. She responded with a tenderness she would have never thought this man deserved. Deep down inside of her, buried beneath her emotions and bravado, she didn't regret what had happened almost two years ago. No doubt it had been painful and humiliating at first, but then; then it had changed, much to the surprise of both of them. She hadn't been looking for what she found that night, but she found him all the same, and she now seemed bound to find happiness in being around him. She didn't know how she would be able to explain it when she would ultimately have to. These unpleasant thoughts were wiped from her mind, however, as he shifted pace and his kisses became more intense and desperate.