She was loath to leave; the atmosphere in the stadium was so electric. She descended the spiral staircase feeling euphoric; she had just witnessed some of the best Quidditch she was ever likely to see and she too would soon be playing in a final. She couldn't wait to get back on her broom and training; already her mind was formulating new strategies to outsmart the Slytherins and plotting how she could manage to fit all this in without having to add even more practices to their weekly schedule.
"Something on your mind?" he asked as they were driven back to their villa.
"Oh, what?" she was startled out of her reverie.
"Is there anything on your mind?" he asked again.
"Oh, I'm just planning how to beat your son's team in the Quidditch final, that's all." She gave him a mischievous smile. "After all, I'm not planning on losing."
"Do you ever?"
"No." The tone of certainty in her voice spoke volumes and he very much doubted that her next match would be an exception.
They arrived quickly at the villa and, without a word; she disappeared into the bedroom and shut the door behind her, reappearing five minutes later in a new, halter neck black bikini. She had covered this, however, with a black sarong with a sequin detail that was tied at the waist and floated loosely open at the side. He was out on the balcony reading with a cool drink resting on the table. Without saying anything, she went out the side door and walked down the path to the beach. She walked slowly across the warm sand, enjoying the feel of the sun on her face and the sand between her toes. She just felt completely, well, at ease here; the place was so beautiful that nothing, not even the depressing situation back home, could spoil it. The light breeze sent her sarong fluttering in the air. Her hair did the same, the wavy strands sweeping out behind her as she walked towards the gently splashing waves.
Looking up from his book; he saw the figure, all clad in black, standing in the water. Setting his book down, he ventured out of the door and headed over to where she was standing. He walked in the shade of the palm trees that bordered the beach. She seemed to be just standing there, lost in contemplation. Calf deep in water, she did not seem to notice or care about the water that splashed gently about her legs; soaking the sarong tied about her waist. He paused for a moment and, shedding his usual lofty manner, he removed his shoes and socks; leaving them sitting on one of the bent boughs of a palm tree.
This was a strange experience for him. He was acting completely out of character and he knew it. The high and mighty Lucius Malfoy did not walk barefoot along the beach, yet something about her made him not care anymore. In truth, he could not remember when he had last felt sand in-between his toes; probably some time in his early childhood, before he'd had to worry about the image of the esteemed Malfoy family that he had to present. It was a very nice sensation, he found; the warmth of the sand pleasing as he walked over to her.
She did not move as he approached; his footsteps inaudible on the sand. She was stunned to hear him as he walked into the water, not expecting him to do such an uncharacteristic thing. Once he was stood directly behind her he placed his hands lightly on her shoulders; her skin pleasingly warm to the touch. In response she tilted her head and let one of her cheeks brush against his fingers. Turning her round, he pulled her close and, not taking his hands from her arms, touched his lips to hers for the most fleeting of moments. She smiled as his lips whispered across her jaw and down her neck where they feathered over her collarbone. His hands ran lazily down her arms; wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer still and almost lifting her off the ground.
She laughed as she kissed him back, her arms snaking around his neck, the soaked fabric of her sarong tickling her legs. She was slightly taken aback by how forward he was being, after all, anyone could happen upon their beach. It was private, but that did not stop people from ignoring the signs. Apparently, however, he wasn't worried about this as he nuzzled at the curve of her neck, making her gasp as his breath tickled her skin. Considering her actions, she too was seemingly unconcerned about anyone seeing them as her fingers ran through his hair and her hands gripped the fabric of his shirt; unwilling to let him go.
So lost in each other, they did not notice the dark blue car that passed along the road that bordered their beach. Inside was none other than Cornelius Fudge. On his way to the Australians' victory party, he gazed out of the window absent-mindedly pondering the day's events when something caught his eye. Passing a row of palm trees that were thinner than the rest, the Minister caught a glimpse of two people standing on the beach. He could make out the skirt of what appeared to be a young woman with long, dark hair as she was held tight by a man that he did not have the chance to see as they rounded a bend and the couple disappeared from sight. He forgot about them as quickly as they had appeared, his mind returning to the match and the more pressing problems he had to face at home.
"The Australians' invited us to their victory party you know." She told him as they walked back through the surf to the villa.
"Well then I suppose we'll have to go."
"Do we have to?" she asked, giving a small sigh that almost completely undid him.
"Yes, unless you want people to talk."
"I could think of many other things to do." She gave him an impish smirk, gazing intently up into his eyes.
"Yes, well," he was taken aback at how direct she was being, "there will be time enough for that later." Giving her a thoughtful look, his hand migrated lower on her back; eliciting a satisfying blush on her cheeks.
"Fine." She murmured as they kept on walking.
The Australian team were having their victory party on a beach only a few coves around from where they were staying. It only took ten minutes to walk there and they arrived with the party already in full swing. He had remained in his staple black suit despite the heat, although this one was made from linen so infinitely more comfortable in the heat. She was actually pleased with herself as she had managed to coax him into a pair of flip flops, which were definitely more appropriate for the beach than his usual footwear.
She had again changed her bikini, this one dark blue with sparkly beading, and was wearing a dark blue, halter-neck maxi-dress over the top. Although the dress was long and billowed around her legs, it was made of a thin, gauzy material and was very low cut, doing nothing to conceal what was beneath. She had woven a broken scallop shell, found when swimming the other day, into her hair at the back just to spice up the loose waves.
He headed in the direction of Fudge and the Australian Minister who was looking distinctly odd in a pair of brightly coloured shorts and a T-shirt when compared to Fudge in his terribly restrained beige trousers and white shirt. She, however; having had enough of hanging round with politicians, headed over to where the team stood by a smoking barbeque. She caught the distinct, irresistible aroma as she approached; causing her stomach to rumble, having not eaten since breakfast.
There weren't many people at the party; only the players' friends and families as well as some Australian officials and famous faces. It was all very friendly and she found it easy to talk to the players as they were not surrounded by hoards of people trying to congratulate them; the people here had already done so. They swapped strategies and they gave her tips once she told them that their Quidditch final was approaching. They lay on the warm sand, drinking beer, eating barbeque food and swapping Quidditch stories whilst the party went on around them. It was then that she spotted the seven boards stuck into the sand beneath the palm trees.
"Do you surf?" she asked, nodding her head at the row of boards.
"Who doesn't?" Dav Tyler, a handsome, well built chaser said to her.
"Would you like us to teach you how?" Ferguson, another handsome chaser, offered. Both of the striking players were shamelessly flirting with her and, although she enjoyed the attention, she had seen Lucius' eyes flick angrily over to them several times. She smiled and batted her eyelashes at them both, rewarding them for their attention.
"You assume I don't know how." She cocked an eyebrow at him as she raised her wand. "Accio board!" she spoke and, seconds later, her black board had landed in the sand before them. Unashamedly, she stood and undid the tie at the neck of her dress, allowing it to slip off and pool around her ankles. "Well, are you coming?" she asked them as she lifted her board beneath her arm. The Australian team sat there, momentarily stunned, before summoning their boards and following her out.
The water was crisp and cool on her sun-warmed skin and she relished the spray in her face as she paddled out. She could see many of the people on the beach watching them; the Australian team obviously being very good surfers by the looks of anticipation on the spectators' faces. Back on the beach, Lucius smirked to himself as they watched the eight people in the water. He could see the looks on the chasers' faces; they were both vying for her attention and were obviously going to try and impress her. Little did they know that their efforts were all in vain and she would not so much look at either of them. He also took pleasure in the fact that she was probably about to outdo them both. He had noticed that they had all taken their wands with them whereas Kathryn did not. She obviously had the talent for this rather odd Muggle sport and did not need to modify the conditions with magic.
His theory was proven as, like she had done the other day, she began to ride the large wave; slicing through the water as if she did this every day and was nothing more than going for a stroll in the park. Her Australian fellows, whilst being considerably skilled, did not seem to have her understanding of the water and had their wands constantly at the ready. He saw them stop waves so they wouldn't crash down on them and cause them to fall in. Fudge, he could see, was looking very smug; obviously glad that, although the England Quidditch team had failed to make it to the final, there was at least something that England seemed to be better at.
She smiled widely as she coasted into the shallows, knowing that he was watching her; she could just see the smile playing across his face. Just before she lost all momentum and toppled off her board, she dived into the crystal clear water and waited for the other seven people to catch her up.
"How long have you been surfing?" Tyler cried out as he paddled up to the girl who was floating in the water with her arms over her board.
"Since I was eight." She replied. "Why?"
"It takes ages to be able to do that without magic." Ferguson added, gliding up beside her.
"Well, I've had eleven years to practice. But I only just got back on a board yesterday after a three year break." This statement only served to shock them more. They surveyed her incredulously as she pulled herself back onto her board and paddled back out.
Like the previous day, she stayed on her board a lot longer than the rest of them. They dragged their boards out after only another hour whereas she stayed in the water until it started to get dark and the temperature began to drop. She banished her board back to their villa and pulled her dress back on, only to have it soak completely through. The cool night air was quite noticeable after a day spent in the sunshine. Taking the drink she was offered, she sat with them and talked some more; the two chasers again flirting with her in the hope of success.
Ducking out of a conversation about the pros and cons of the wand ban in official Quidditch matches, she wrapped her arms across her chest for warmth and wandered across to where he was standing with Fudge.
"Ah, Miss Potter." Fudge cried, spotting her first. "Had, er, fun?" he seemed to lose his composure when he saw her very wet, very clingy attire. She assumed she must have looked interesting, what with her wet hair plastered to her back, skimpy bikini and sodden dress that clung to every inch of her and had sand clinging to the bottom. Without a moment's hesitation, Lucius had whipped off his jacket and set the soft fabric about her shoulders.
"Thanks." She acknowledged as he waved his wand and, in an instant, she was dry and a wave of warmth was spreading through her body. And yes, I have had a wonderful time." She smiled at Fudge, distracting him from how familiar she and Lucius were with each other. "I've missed surfing. I used to go every summer when I lived in France; my foster parents had a house on the beach."
"Pardon my asking, but has that been sold with the rest of the property?"
"No." She shook her head. "I've decided to keep it. Hopefully I'll be able to get some use from it. There's plenty of space and it would be nice to go there again. It's miles away from anything so you're guaranteed peace and quiet!" shooting a quick look at Lucius, she could see that he could think of a perfect way to put the house to use.
"Something I'm sure we could all use." Fudge chuckled.
"Indeed." Lucius agreed.
"Well, eventually I'm sure I'll get there." She laughed, gazing out at the ocean and sincerely hoping that she would.
"Well Minister," Lucius interjected, checking the time, "we'd best be off as we have an early Portkey to catch. Sorry you won't be able to join me for dinner but I am sure that Miss Potter will be agreeable."
"Of course." Kathryn nodded, her heart fluttering slightly at the prospect of not having to pretend in front of Fudge all evening.
"Yes, terribly sorry about that, but duty calls. Good evening Lucius, Miss Potter." He bowed to them both and lightly kissed her hand.
"Goodbye Minister." She waved him goodbye as they walked back across the beach.
They walked in silence down the winding, sandy road that led to their villa, the both of them tired after their long day, but both wondering about what would happen once they got back indoors. It was unexpected then, that the silence was broken by a shout.
"Hey! Wait!" It was Tyler, running along the road towards them. "You aren't leaving now, are you?" he asked, panting slightly as he caught his breath.
"Well, I'm leaving in the morning," she began, but was unable to finish her sentence. Tyler had, at that point, wrapped his arm around her waist; causing the jacket to slip off and reveal her bare shoulders and the enticing cut of her dress.
"Oh come on." His hands stroked over her warm skin. "I'm sure I could amuse you." He murmured in her ear. She caught the smell of beer on his breath. He began to pull her away, his arm fixed uncomfortably about her waist, and she didn't have the energy left to resist. Looking back over her shoulder she saw, for the briefest of moments, anger flare up in his eyes. She could see his hands toying with the serpent top of his cane and she could tell that he was fully prepared to hex the young player. Instead, however, he thought quickly and apparated to a point just in front of them.
"Excuse me," he said in his most dangerously charming voice, placing his arm about Kathryn's shoulders and detaching her from Tyler's grip, "but I believe that I saw her first." A smirk played across his face as he swept past Tyler and continued to walk onwards; not relinquishing his hold around her. All Tyler could do was stand there stunned until, all of a sudden, comprehension dawned on him. Kathryn's heart was tight with worry, knowing the conclusion he would arrive at. The man by her side, however, seemed to have anticipated this too and, with a quick wave of his wand, had modified the young man's memory.
"Smooth." She commented as they walked back, replacing the jacket back around her shoulders and resting her arm round his waist.
Once they had climbed the steps and were through the front door of the villa, he headed into the lounge area to sort out preparations for their departure the following morning whilst she disappeared through the bedroom door, presumably to change. When she did not reappear, propelled by curiosity, he followed her. In the doorway her dress lay in a heap, as if she had just untied it and left it where it fell. His jacket was abandoned in the same fashion not long after that. His eyes travelled over this trail to the bed.
Here, she was lying diagonally, face down across the mattress; still wearing her bikini and with her arms crossed beneath her cheek. Here, she was lying diagonally, face down across the mattress; still wearing her bikini and with her arms crossed beneath her cheek. Kicking off the flimsy shoes she had insisted he wear, he lay down beside her and stroked one of his hands up the curve of her back. The other pushed her hair out of the way so as to give his lips access to her neck. His gentle ministrations earning him a small moan of pleasure as he pulled her closer. She, in turn, rolled over to face him and allowed her hands to freely roam beneath his shirt and through his hair. She smiled as she managed to draw out a small gasp of desire as she pushed herself closer into him. She earned another sharp intake of breath as she sat astride him; pulling him upright so that she could remove his shirt without having to cease her affections.
It was then his turn. Grasping her firmly about the waist he held her still as he rolled on top of her, delighting at the way she arched into his lightest touch. Every little gasp or sigh of pleasure he managed to extract from her lips only served to undo him further and, dispensing with the foreplay, practically tore off what little clothing she was wearing; greedily taking what she offered. They lay tangled in each other, neither really sleeping, but just enjoying being close to the other.
Their rest was, unfortunately, spoiled by their departure time and they rose at half past two that morning to get ready to leave. A few well chosen words had their bags packed and all their belongings gathered and ready by quarter to three and they stood on the balcony waiting; clutching the same chipped teapot. At two forty seven exactly, they felt the familiar tug behind their navel and the next moment they were landing on the steps at the entrance to Malfoy Manor. In contrast to the superb weather they had enjoyed in Australia, they nearly slipped as they landed; having arrived in the middle of a ferocious early-summer thunderstorm.
They spilled into the cavernous Entrance Hall, completely drenched as a fork of lightning cracked across the sky and thunder rumbled loudly above them. One of his many house elves appeared immediately and relieved them of their luggage and dripping cloaks before informing them that dinner was ready. Glancing at a clock she saw that it was only seven in the evening, Thursday evening. It was slightly bizarre to be living the evening twice, but she didn't mind as they sat down to a warm dinner; the both of them having had precious little to eat the day before.
They talked over the match before she excused herself to go and get showered, still having the salt in her hair from the afternoon's surfing. In the huge master bathroom she returned the moisture and lustre, stolen by the salt, to her hair and carefully moisturised her skin to keep the healthy glow. She noted that her bags had been placed in the master suite. They had been placed several times in one of the guest bedrooms and she had actually seen him kick one of the house elves down the stairs for its mistake. The house elves, after that, had obviously learned from their mistake and her bags were now always placed in the master suite.
Pulling the zip open, she withdrew something she knew he would enjoy and carefully put it on. She would never have imagined that she would have reached a point that she was dressing for him. She had gone from being forcibly undressed by rough, demanding hands to relishing his touch and making sure that there was something under her clothes to impress him.
Her choice this evening was a corset of pale pink silk covered with black lace; something she had chosen whilst in Paris and had lain unworn since. She slipped on matching French knickers and, to complete the look, she twisted her hair loosely up around a silver pin so it was lifted away from her face but still cascaded down her back; leaving a few strands falling round her face so the overall image was not too severe. Finally, she fastened a choker made of a thin strip of black velvet around her neck and turned to look at herself in the mirror. Quite pleased with her appearance, she stepped into the adjoining walk-in wardrobe and headed straight for his expansive wardrobe. From behind the carved mahogany doors she pulled a long, dark green dressing gown and slipped her arms into it. It was luxurious to be sure, with a silk damask pattern on the collar and cuffs and a silky soft lining. Of course, it was far too big for her, but she didn't care as she stepped out into the corridor and headed for his study.
She could hear the rain lashing against the windows as she walked to the opposite side of the manor, where his study was located. Despite the roaring fires, it was slightly chilly, and she was glad for the warmth of the robe that was trailing behind her. Opening the door to his study she saw him sitting by the fire, with his feet up; apparently engrossed in a book. She swept into the dimly lit room and walked straight past him to look out of the window.
Unlike Muggle houses she had seen with their fake mullioned windows that had an ugly array of criss-crossing strips of metal lain onto the glass to create miniscule squares that completely obscured the view, Malfoy Manor had the real stuff. Large panes of glass were held together by strips of lead; the glass being large enough to allow a good view of the grounds. She stared out at the rain beaten landscape, lit up every so often by flashes of lightning and followed by great rolls of thunder, for a moment before turning her head to look back at him.
He was still sat in his comfortable armchair but his eyes were no longer on his book. They were fixed on her and the book lay open in his lap. Without him having to say a word she walked slowly over to him; understanding exactly what he meant for her to do and taking pleasure in making him wait. He reached out his left hand for hers once she was close enough; his eyes taking in every detail of her attire that was visible through the unfastened robe. She placed her hand in his palm and stood still for a moment; watching him as he swept his supercilious gaze over her. She gave a small smile, knowing that he was happy with what he saw; revelling slightly in her ability to bring such a proud man to his knees. Taking his smirk as her sign to continue, she swung the robe over his legs and lowered herself into his lap.
One hand trailed up her exposed thigh whilst the other ran beneath the collar of the robe and stopped to stroke the smooth curve of her neck; drawing her mouth down to his as it did so. Flashes of lightning illuminated the dark corners of the room as they sat there but they were ignored, the pair of them forgetting everything but each other for the present time. She kept on shifting her weight slightly on his lap; continually adjusting her position according to where his hands wanted to roam. He pulled his lips away from hers for a moment and, before she could stop herself, she gave a small gasp of displeasure. A smirk played across his lips; obviously pleased that he still had this effect on her.
"Stop fidgeting," he murmured in his usual velvety tone, causing a shiver to course up her spine, "I believe Muggles generally pay for this kind of, er, attention." She felt the heat rise in her cheeks as he spoke; realising what she had been unintentionally been doing. The patches of red on her cheeks only enhanced her coquettish appearance and, despite how beautiful she looked, it only intensified his desire.
"Of course," he went on, "that does not mean that the attention is unwelcome." His lips found her earlobe and bit down lightly and the words that had been poised on the tip of her tongue were replaced by a soft mewl of pleasure.
Another flash of lightning lit up the room as he slipped the robe from her shoulders and tossed it aside. His kiss and touch were becoming more and more insistent and she found a hand groping at the back of her underwear. She caught his hand with hers and looked quickly into his eyes. Reading the slightly startled look in her eyes, he was worried that she was going to run. There was another flash and, with a strange gleam in her eyes, she smiled at him before lowering her body down onto his and kissing him again.
"Why do you torment me?" he said in a hoarse whisper as her lips trailed a path down his neck whilst her hands deftly undid the buttons of his shirt.
"Because it's fun." She smiled coyly back at him before shuffling backwards off his lap and standing in front of his chair, her arm stretched out; asking him to come too. He took a moment to admire the beauty of the young woman standing before him in nothing more than very extravagant underwear, before rising up to meet her. She was about to head for the doorway, leading him by the hand, until he stopped her and pulled her instead to stand before the fireplace. She was bemused by what he intended to do until he pulled her down to kneel on the plush fur rug beneath their feet. She reached round to her back to pull the ribbon of her corset free but his hand stopped her.
"Leave it on." He whispered, his hand instead fiddling with the waist of her underwear. She did not flinch as he slipped them down to her knees, allowing him to lower her into a lying position as he pulled them past her knees and dropped them on the floor nearby. She wasn't sure if she was actually blushing or whether it was just the heat from the fire that caused her cheeks to redden as he manoeuvred on top of her. Her embarrassment was soon forgot, however, as he kissed her hungrily; her body arching into his every touch.
The thunderstorm has not dissipated by the time she crawled beneath the covers of the great four-poster in the early hours to lie next to him. The rain drumming on the windows was a far cry form the gentle lapping of waves she had been able to hear through the window of their bedroom in Australia. She tossed and turned next to him, sleep evading her for some reason. She lay on her side, staring at the man lying asleep beside her, and beginning to ponder the future. Their future. From what she had heard from Snape and other Order members, whatever Voldemort had planned was going to happen sooner than they would like. All her mind could do was land on the worst case scenarios if either side claimed victory. Would she be able to save him should she and Harry defeat Voldemort? Would she be able to spare him from the dreaded Dementor's Kiss? With these questions buzzing through her mind, she snuggled closer to him and planted a soft kiss on his shoulder.
"I will save you," she whispered in the darkness, "I promise." With that, she closed her eyes and let the sound of his breathing lull her to sleep.
By the time she woke up the following morning, the storm had passed and sun sparkled through the glass. He was still dozing beside her and, as quietly as possible, she slipped out of bed and pulled on the pyjama bottoms that were poking out of the opening of her bag. Once she had found her top, she pulled on his green robe that she had worn the night before and crept silently from the room. The rest of the manor was dark and silent as she walked down the large staircase; the curtains not yet open, heading towards the kitchens. It was only within this room that she found some signs of life. Several of the many house elves that he owned were in here cleaning out the fireplace and making preparations for the coming day.
They all snapped to attention when they noticed her presence and nearly fell over themselves when she asked for two mugs of tea. She could see the fear in their eyes as they boiled the water and fetched the teapot and teabags. They all wore similar pillowcases or tea towels tied around their thin bodies to form a very basic garment.
Returning upstairs five minutes later she found him still sleeping. Now rolled over on his side, however, she saw something she had never noticed before. Along his lower back was a fairly long, thin scar that curved up towards his spine. In truth she wondered how she had never seen or noticed that before now. Setting the mugs down on the bedside table she climbed back up onto the mattress and ran her index finger down the length of the wound. She knew that it must be from a dark curse or some kind of magic as it had not been healed fully and had scarred. His body quivered slightly under her touch and, without warning, he jerked awake and rolled over to face her.
"Easy," she said softly, running her fingers through his hair, "I was just wondering how that happened." She wormed her fingers back underneath his torso and gave the scar a gentle prod.
"A mistake." He replied, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
"The Ministry fiasco in fifth year, you mean." She finished, knowing what mistake he had been punished for. He nodded, pushing himself up to lean against the headboard.
"I was lucky that's the only mark I've got to show for it."
"If I remember rightly, I am lucky I escaped with my life." She said coolly back, handing him his mug of tea as she did so.
"Yes, but you're the one who chose to be noble."
"I shall remember that the next time someone has their wand on you. Let's see what you think of 'nobility' then." She was lying when she implied that she would stand by and watch if he was ever cornered by the Order.
She knew full well that she would probably be placing herself between Auror and Death Eater and thus revealing her terrible secret. She leaned against his chest and pondered what she had just said. Was it true? Would she willingly throw herself in front of an Auror for him? She would consider those questions when the time came, for now though, she was perfectly content to lie against his chest and have his fingers whimsically play with her hair.
It was with great reluctance that she kissed him goodbye at three o'clock; all she wanted to do was stay for a little longer but she knew that her continued absence would not go unnoticed. She stood there, slightly more laden than when she had arrived due to the surfboard under her arm and the things that he had insisted she take. He too was sad to see her go, even thought he knew he would soon be seeing her. Her continued presence in his house only put their lives at further risk should his Death Eater friends come to call, and that was something he did not want to jeopardise, not when the end of the war was so tangibly near.