Author disclaimer: My other stories with Malfoy characters are based on the book series, but this novella (a long short story over 17,000 words, usually not divided into chapters and meant to be read in one sitting) takes its inspiration from the Harry Potter and the Cursed Child play. Characters and romantic pairings are different from what readers familiar with my other fics might expect. It's a different dimension of the Potterverse, mates.

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"Wake up, Miss Lily."

If anyone other than Kreacher had spoken those words, Lily would have buried her head under a pillow and ignored them. She hadn't made it to bed until half past four. She needed sleep, damn it. "Tell Mum I'm sick."

"Mistress Ginny gives Kreacher potions for Miss Lily."

She cracked open an eyelid. Since she had a low platform bed, she looked directly into Kreacher's beloved wrinkled face. He held two bottles in each hand. She read the labels aloud. "Sober Up, Nauseous No More, Pain Relief and—what's the last one? Veritaserum? I'm going down to breakfast and an interrogation, aren't I?" Every night she went out clubbing, photos of her ended up in the next morning's papers. Scandalmongers were eager to gossip over Harry Potter's party girl daughter. Club owners counted on it. Lily groaned as she sat up and reached for the puke-green bottle of Nauseous No More. "I only had a few glasses of champagne. I wasn't that drunk."

She swallowed the potion that settled her stomach and downed the contents of bottles that dispelled her headache and sensitivity to light and sound. Her eyesight sharpened, allowing her to read Vitamix on the last bottle's label. They wanted her hydrated and vitamin-fortified. She pulled the cork and chugged the contents.

"Miss Lily is feeling better?"

She grimaced and threw back the covers. "All except my bladder." She sprinted across to the ensuite—the perk of being the only daughter. Her brothers had to share the loo at the end of the corridor. After taking care of bodily needs, including a quick shower, she pulled on a towelling robe and returned to the bedroom to find Kreacher placing a white sundress and matching sandals with no heels on her bed.

"It's that bad?"

Kreacher said, "Master and Mistress needs reminding that Miss Lily is their precious girl."

She walked over and bent to kiss his cheek. "This is why I love you best." No matter what she did, she was always precious to Kreacher. When he shook his head, the tips of his ears flushed pink, she said teasingly, "You can't have forgotten the poll James took when I was five. He asked me and Al who we loved more, Mum or Dad, and I said you." At the time, her mum had been working all hours to prove herself as the new sports editor at the Daily Prophet while her dad spent more time hunting Dark wizards than with his family. Her brothers hadn't seemed to mind. They played their boy games and read their wizard comics, but for Lily, Kreacher had been her substitute parent, teacher and playmate combined.

The smile that had been spreading across Kreacher's face vanished. "Master Harry calls. Hurry and dress, Miss Lily!" He Disapparated.

Lily gathered underclothes and decided not wear any makeup to complete the innocent look. She walked downstairs instead of Apparating to give herself time to get her apologies in order. Should she promise to avoid the clubs for a few weeks? She hated to do it, but if it would get her parents off her back she'd attend private parties instead.

"In the drawing room," her mum called out when Lily would have walked past.

Drawing room equalled formality. Not a good sign. She froze when she saw the room was packed with relatives: Adult relatives. This wasn't a Sunday dinner she'd forgotten. Chairs and sofas were arranged in a semicircle facing three chairs placed against the wall on the same side of the room as the door. Her mum and dad sat in two of the three chairs. The one in the middle was empty. Lily lifted her chin. "What's this? A ruddy intervention?" She had to take a Squire Cab once—maybe three times—a month. Considering all the parties and events she attended, all the clubbing, she was a model of responsible drinking!

"We're worried about your future, dear," Granny Weasley said.

Lily's mum pointed to the empty chair. "Have a seat. Everyone is here to help you sort out your career options."

"You're so bright, you could be anything," her dad said. "Artist, Healer, Auror—"

"Harry, I thought we agreed she should make her own decisions." Her mum frowned. "We have enough Aurors in the family with you, Albus and Teddy."

Across the room, Uncle George shouted, "Be an entrepreneur!" over Uncle Bill's, "Curse breaker!"

Lily's gaze swept over earnest faces. Each relative felt a calling for their profession, whether it was creating wheezes or caring for a home and family. They couldn't understand her aimlessness. She was a genetic abnormality. "I'll figure it out on my own, thanks."

"You haven't so far," her mum said. "You're twenty-one, and you've never shown a sign of being interested in anything but clothes and parties—"

"Clothes designers give me so I'll be photographed wearing them. Parties I'm paid to attend." Lily laughed mirthlessly at her mum's shocked expression. "How do you think I afford everything I have? It isn't with the five Galleon allowances you deposit in my vault."

Her parents traded "I thought you paid for her clothes" looks, and then her mum said, face turning red, "You get paid . . . ?"

"Ginny," Granny Weasley said in her calm down, dear tone.

Lily's dad chuckled uncertainly. "You're having us on, aren't you, sweetheart?"

Stars and stones, they acted like she was a prostitute! "No, Dad, I'm not." The disappointment in his eyes—on all the faces staring at her—was too much. "Fine," Lily cried. "I'll get a real job." She Apparated.

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Kreacher's den was the one place she could go and not worry that her family would intrude. Her parents had promised when they'd remodelled his original den into a suite of rooms to always respect his privacy. Her brothers knew she would hex them if they tried to barge their way in when she needed alone time with Kreacher.

The underground rooms were like museum exhibits. The parlour, with its serpent wall sconces, Kreacher-sized sofa and chair, Black family tapestry and glass-fronted cabinets filled with boyish treasures like Gobstones and Exploding Snap cards, she'd named the Regulus Room. She arrived to find it empty. Lily sat on the sofa after snatching up the folded copy of the Daily Prophet Kreacher always placed on the arm of his chair. The paper had a laxness to its folds, so she didn't feel guilty for opening it up to the Classifieds section.

Her prospects were dismal. She didn't have the work experience needed to apply for the few positions that interested her, and those jobs advertising no experience necessary seemed dodgy and/or demeaning. She would not dress up in an owl costume and hold a sign to entice passers-by into Eyelops Owl Emporium. Lily was fighting the urge to crumple the paper into a ball and kick it when a job posting in the "Outside London" section caught her eye. There were no moving images to entice, no mention of salary or benefits, just the position, personal assistant, and a mailing address in Wiltshire for responses.

Lily recognised the address. She'd seen it on an envelope just before Christmas; Scorpius and Rose had been late sending out their Christmas cards.

She refolded the paper and set it on the arm of Kreacher's chair before Apparating to her room. It wouldn't do to lug a suitcase downstairs. If her family got a whiff of her plan, they'd declare her mental and lock her up until she saw "reason." To hell with that. She was taking control of her life. Granddad Weasley's gift of a Muggle artefact that had been enchanted with Capacious Charms and used to steal items Muggles never suspected fit within the black leather tote suited her needs perfectly. She ran a finger over the embossed GG. The witch who had chosen the bag had great taste. Lily was packing her toiletry kit on top of everything she owned when Kreacher Apparated into the room.

His bat-like ears twitched. "What is Miss Lily doing?"

She gestured to her messy bun and tank-style sheath. The hem of the dress ended well above the knee, but the fabric was navy tweed. She'd worn it to a charity luncheon to attract businesswomen to the designer's shop. "I'm preparing for a job interview." She closed the tote and slipped on navy high-heeled court shoes. "Is it safe to walk downstairs, or should I leave through the window?" Years of sneaking in and out had made her an expert at casting Levitation Charms.

"The window." Kreacher dolefully watched her unlock the window and push up the sash. "With whom shall Kreacher say Miss Lily is interviewing when Master or Mistress asks?"

Lily bit her lip to stifle a nervous giggle. "It's a surprise, but I'll let everyone know by the end of the day." She bent to hug him. "Don't worry about me. I'm part Black, remember?" Hearing his raspy chuckle, she said, "Wish me luck."

Round eyes bloodshot with age widened. "Is you needing it?"

A giggle burst from her throat before she could stop herself. "I hope not." She kissed the top of his bald head and left before he changed his mind about aiding her escape.

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Oversized sunglasses and business attire did the trick of concealing her identity as she Flooed from London to Salisbury and hired a Squire Cab to take her the rest of the way. The wrought iron gates were closed and didn't open when the cab drew up alongside. "I'll walk from here," Lily told the driver as she handed him Galleons for the fare plus a large tip. He brow furled with the same "don't I know you from somewhere?" confusion he'd displayed since opening the cab door for her outside the Salisbury Floo station. She kept her expression aloof since he might recognize her if she smiled; she had her mother's full lips and wide smile.

Once the Squire Cab had gone, Lily touched the gate. The iron beneath her hand twisted into a metal sculpture of a face. The mouth moved, and a man's voice asked, "Who shall I say is calling?"

Ah, the butler. She'd been to parties at other manor houses and recognised the tone. "Lily Potter."

After a couple of long minutes, the butler voice said, "Enter."

Iron bars dissolved into smoke. Lily walked through and glanced over her shoulder to watch the gate reform into a solid barrier once more. "I feel at home already," she muttered.

The tall hedge that bordered each side of the gravelled drive effectively focused a visitor's gaze on the mansion looming at the end. She'd heard Scorpius call his ancestral home the family mausoleum. Lily thought Malfoy Manor looked like a place under enchantment. No groundskeepers tended the gardens, no one stood on the step to greet her. "They aren't dead," she said out loud to break the silence and dispel her sudden case of nerves. "Everyone's sleeping, or waiting—whatever fairy tale nonsense applies." She tightened her grip on her tote bag and marched toward the enormous, probably hundreds of years old front door.

It swung open, all on its own.

Lily squared her shoulders and strode into the manor.

Her jaw dropped. Well lit, with classical French wall panels and pale marble floors set off by a pastel needlepoint carpet that might have come from Versailles, the entrance hall was gorgeous. The portraits looking down their noses at her from their frames hung high on the walls seemed to take her awe as their due.

"Mr. Malfoy will receive you in the drawing room," a familiar voice said. A man in a three piece grey suit stood by a door with an ornate bronze handle. From the wrinkles around his eyes and the silver in his hair, he must have been with the family a long time.

She walked toward him and offered her hand. "How do you do? I'm Lily Potter."

He shook her hand for the briefest moment. "Stevens. This way, miss." He ushered her into the next room, and when she'd walked through, he closed the door between them.

No need to announce her to the master of the house when her last name was Potter, she supposed. Lily turned and saw the wizard standing in front of a massive fireplace lit with magical green flames even though summer sunlight bathed the room. He wasn't sweating in his long-sleeved black dress shirt and trousers, so the flames didn't put off heat. Instead, the fire threw shadows across Draco Malfoy's face.

As Lily walked toward him, she took in physical details: shoulder length pale hair brushed back to set off a widow's peak and wary grey eyes. He looked like Scorpius without any boyish soft edges. His body was more muscular, his cheekbones more pronounced. She couldn't imagine him ever playing Gobstones.

She didn't take offence when his eyes travelled over her. She'd given him the once-over, so it was only fair he did the same to her. He said, "You have your mother's hair and your father's eyes."

Scorpius's voice with Firewhisky added, posh and smooth. She liked it.

He compressed his lips into a thin line, making them appear stern. After tense moments of silence, he said, "Your Aunt Hermione was tortured in this room. Were you aware of that?"

Two could be blunt. "Yes. Your Aunt Bellatrix used the Cruciatus Curse. She also killed my dad's godfather, Sirius, and my godbrother Teddy's mum," Lily shot back. "Don't get me started on her taking a break from torture and murder to give Voldemort a baby to become the next-gen psychopath. I'm glad Granny Weasley killed the bitch." She glared. "And your fact bomb was a shitty way to tell me if I hadn't already known." She took a calming breath and released it slowly. "If I avoided every place my family was mistreated, I never would've gone to Hogwarts. Living in this house won't bother me." Not since Draco's parents and evil auntie were all dead and not haunting the manor as ghosts.

"What about working for the man who tried to use an Unforgivable Curse on your father? A Death Eater. Doesn't that bother you?" When she opened her mouth to speak, he said, "People like Ron Weasley say there's no such thing as a former Death Eater."

"And people never change, there's only good and bad." Lily rolled her eyes. "Even if I'd never met Scorpius, my dad taught me that kind of thinking is bullshit."

Draco huffed, a sound that combined amusement and disbelief. "Harry Potter used the word 'bullshit'?"

"His exact words were 'caused by fear and pain.' I paraphrased."

"Ah." He gave her a considering look. "You mentioned living here. Room and board wasn't offered."

"Neither was a salary. I'll trust you'll be generous on all accounts." If she sounded like a character from a Muggle lit novel, Lily blamed it on Draco for acting like one first. Draco Darcy. She smiled at the mental image of him wearing a Regency costume.

He stared at her for several moments before dropping his gaze. He adjusted perfectly straight cuff-links. "I only placed the ad to appease Scorpius. He believes my alchemy studies are hindered by a lack of organisation, and I need an assistant to sort through my research."

"But you don't, since your ad gave no specifics, and you can't hide your shock that I'm accepting the position."

"You can't want to live here, away from the excitement of London."

So he'd seen her pictures in the gossip columns. Who hadn't? "I'm looking for more interesting work."

"Work?"

Bollocks, did everyone think partying and work equalled prostitution? Lily tersely explained how she'd made a living from being Harry Potter's daughter.

"I never would've guessed," Draco murmured. He smiled a little. "I expect that's the point."

"Mmm." She didn't want to discuss it further, even if he seemed to admire her for making fame pay. "Why don't you show me where I'll be working? I know it isn't here. Everything's too tidy." Kreacher would drool if he saw the stately room. It was like a French royal furniture museum. She was tempted to ask if there was a reproduction of the Hall of Mirrors somewhere. She'd heard about the vault of Dark objects Draco had permanently sealed at Scorpius's request.

"I use the library." He turned on his heel.

Lily took a second to process that she'd actually talked her way into the job and hurried to catch up.

Draco stiffened when her upper arm brushed his as she power-walked beside him to keep in step with his longer legs. She was an employee, not a servant. She refused to trail behind him. When the accidental contact happened again, he stopped. If he expected an apology, he'd better not hold his breath. She pretended to misunderstand his action and flexed her bicep. "My muscles surprised you, didn't they? I look soft, but I lift weights to keep toned."

His gaze travelled between her clenched fist and girly bicep and her face before he reached past her to open a door she'd thought one of the wall panels. She breathed in the exotic scent of woods, amber and musk. Way too sexy—Scorpius must have given Draco the Eau de whatever it was. Scorpius Malfoy collected more Eau de toilette than Rose. To distract herself and hopefully Draco, she said, "The library at Grimmauld Place is on the ground floor too. The door doesn't blend into the wall, though. This is spectacular."

"Thank you."

Lily returned his stare until she realised he was waiting for her to precede him into the library. She strolled inside and gasped at the sight before her. Floor to ceiling bookcases lined three of the walls. Only half the shelving displayed books. The bottom shelves were crammed with folders, scrolls, maps, and what had to be alchemical tools: mortars and pestles, ancient clay crucibles alongside modern looking containers that withstood high temperatures and jumbled glassware devices. Boxes and trunks took up the space where leather sofas and chairs would go in another manor house. The king-sized mahogany desk in the centre of the room was piled with books and mounds of scrolls.

Draco cleared his throat. "It looks worse than it is. I have a system."

She laughed until tears pricked her eyes. "You have a problem," she said. "It's called hoarding." His disgruntled expression set her off again. She had to press a hand against her side; it ached from laughing. "I'm sorry," she said. "I love this room. It reminds me of Kreacher's treasure troves before I sorted them." She imagined the look of delight on the house-elf's face if he saw it and asked, "May I send him a photograph of the library? He wouldn't show it to anyone. Kreacher reveres the House of Black."

"He's still alive?"

Draco's astonished expression sparked her temper. "Of course he is. My family doesn't abuse house-elves."

He didn't bridle at the implication that his family had abused Dobby. He said, "I'm glad to hear it. My mother always spoke highly of him. He served her family for over a hundred years."

"And I told him he has to serve mine for another hundred because he isn't allowed to die on me." She immediately tried to cover her slip. "My family wouldn't know what to do without him." Oh gods, she'd forgotten about Scorpius's mother. Astoria Malfoy had died from a blood borne curse the summer after Lily's first year. Although he wasn't wearing a wedding ring, Draco's eyes held a trace of sadness. She said, "I'm sorry about your wife."

He inclined his head in acknowledgment and waved a hand toward the alchemy hoard. "This is where you'll be working if you stay."

Did he believe she wouldn't? "Brilliant," she said. "I'm up to the challenge."

"Hmm."

He was challenging her already. She replied to his implied, "We'll see," with, "Mmm," because yes, they would. She was staying.

Draco's lips twitched. "I don't keep traditional office hours."

"Good. They're boring."

His lips pursed a little as if he repressed a smile. "I mostly work afternoons and a few hours after dinner. What are you doing?"

"Pinching myself." Lily let go of her forearm. "You're a dream come true." When he didn't respond, she said, "It'll take you a few days to feel the same about me. Where am I sleeping?" She took Draco's continued silence to mean he hadn't considered the matter. "Anywhere but the Voldemort Room is fine."

He gave a startled chuckle. "Voldemort appropriated the master suite during his visits. After the war, my mother used a Vanishing Charm on all the furniture and redecorated." Draco lifted a hand to stroke his chin. "You'll be most comfortable in the east wing. Scorpius's room is there. I'll instruct Stevens to show you to the guest suite when you return tomorrow."

"I'm ready to start today." Lily lifted up her tote bag. "A former misused Muggle artefact. I have all my stuff inside."

His eyebrows rose.

"Yes, I'm that self-confident." Lily nibbled at her bottom lip when he continued to gaze at her questioningly. "And my parents won't approve, so I'm avoiding a family row." She saw the speculation in his gaze and said, "I was Sorted into Gryffindor because I told the Hat I'd set it on fire and no one would repair the damage if it tried to put me in another House."

A gleam she interpreted as admiration lit Draco's eyes. "I'll show you to your room."

Lily didn't try to walk beside him. She wanted to be free to stare at whatever she liked without appearing rude or unsophisticated. Narcissa Malfoy had given the manor a Louis XIV makeover, but Rococo gilded mirrors and medieval tapestries adorned the walls along with family portraits from centuries past. The east wing was joltingly modern. No opulently formal furniture. The sofas in the lounge had scrolled arms, but they were upholstered in grey velvet. She ran her hand across the back of the closest one. She'd bet it was cashmere velvet.

"This was our private wing." Draco glanced around as if he hadn't seen the room in a long time. "Scorpius uses his childhood bedroom when he visits, but I've moved into the main house, closer to the library."

Away from painful memories? She didn't blame him. Lily pointed towards a door directly off the lounge. "Guest suite through there?"

"Yes." Draco shook his head faintly as if shaking off the past. He gestured to the open doorway on the opposite side of the room from the entry. "Kitchen and dining room, if you prefer to cook your own meals." Responding to her grimace, he said, "You're welcome to join me for lunch. I believe it's served at one."

"You aren't sure?"

"No. I don't carry a watch and refuse to have a clock in the library." His jaw tightened. "I work when I feel like it and eat when Stevens informs me that breakfast, lunch, or dinner is served."

"Sounds brilliant to me." Lily had traded living by school schedules for having a life ruled by a day planner. She opened the guest room door and tossed her tote onto the foot of the bed. It landed on what she hoped was a faux silver fox throw. She asked, "Do you have an owlery? I need to write Kreacher, my parents and my agent." His brows winged upward; they were a few shades darker than his hair and well-shaped, not bushy. She said, "I met the agent at a party after I left Hogwarts. He's the one who told me I could make a lot of Galleons from public appearances. He needs to know I'm no longer available."

"You're not worried your parents will show up at the gates demanding you return home?"

She shrugged. "Not if your Anti-Intruder spells keep them out."

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Lily had been half-joking about the spells that kept unwanted visitors at bay. A couple of hours into Draco's show and tell explanation of his system for finding research among the piles, Stevens entered the library. "Mr. and Mrs. Potter request Miss Lily's presence at the front gate."

"Shall I go with you?" Draco asked.

He was rubbing his chest in an unconscious gesture. She knew about the scar from her dad's Sectumsempra Curse and appreciated Draco's willingness to support her despite his apprehension. Lily shook her head. "I don't want them making this about you instead of me." She went over to the desk, selected a quill, and wrote on a scrap of parchment:

Lily Potter agrees to assist Draco Malfoy with his alchemy research and will receive generosity and interesting projects to work on in return.

She signed her name and brought the parchment and quill to Draco. "Here. I want to tell them I've already signed an employment contract."

"This is more of an agreement."

"Sign it and it becomes a legal contract."

He signed the parchment.

"Keep it," she said when he started to hand it over. "I wouldn't put it past my mum to cast a Vanishing Charm." She remembered that her wand was in her tote and asked, "Do you have anything with a permanent Shield Charm on it? I'd summon my wand, but I'd hate for everything I've packed to come spilling out." It might act as a counter-spell to the Shrinking Charms. He'll think I'm a clothes hoarding kettle calling the research hoarding cauldron black!

Draco unfastened his cufflinks. "These should do." Instead of handing them over, he moved behind her. She shivered when his fingers slid into her hair. "I attached them to the elasticised band," he said, stepping away. "Your hair will conceal them."

She put a hand up to her bun. "Thanks."

"Lily Luna Potter!" Each name rang with the force of the Sonorous Charm cast by her impatient mum.

Lily dashed from the room. Her heels were created with Stabilising Charms, thank Merlin, allowing her to leg it through the manor. She slowed when she reached the gravelled drive and pretended she was taking a stroll to greet her loving parents who had Apparated to the manor to say hullo on their way to visit Stonehenge. They looked like tourists in their matching Harpies t-shirts and jeans.

"Is she really waving at us like we've come for tea?" Her dad looked to her mum for the answer, which set Lily's teeth on edge. I'm an adult, damn it. I can speak for myself.

"Of course she is," her mum answered sharply. "What she lacks in sense our daughter makes up with nerve."

Lily said as she drew near, "Sorry, Daddy, I can't invite you in for tea today. I'm in the middle of learning Mr. Malfoy's filing system."

The air shimmered, and then her mum said, "Open the gate so we can talk properly."

"Can't. I'm working. At a job I applied for all by myself. Aren't you proud? There's no clubbing involved."

While her mum scowled over the failed Confundus Charm, her dad said, "A girl with your NEWT scores doesn't have to settle for a personal assistant job, but if this is what you want, I can get you a position at the Ministry."

"Or the Daily Prophet," her mum added.

"No, thanks. I like it here. I've already signed an employment contract."

Her mum gripped the iron bars and shook them. "How could you be so stupid? Did you even read it? Open this gate immediately so I can tell Draco-bloody-Malfoy what I think of him taking advantage of a young and foolishly trusting—"

"I dictated the terms of the contract," Lily shouted. "I read the ad. I came here, and I accepted the position. This is my choice, and I won't let you take it away from me!"

"Everyone calm down!" Lily's dad yelled. He raked a hand through his hair. Frustrated resignation threaded his voice when he said, "Ginny, we have to go."

"Go? I'm not leaving our daughter in that house of horrors! I'll camp here and use Sonorous Charms to protest day and night until Malfoy can't stand it and kicks her out!"

Lily bit her tongue to keep from threatening to owl the newspapers if her mother did any such thing. Her dad said, "No, you won't," and wrapped his arms around her mum. "Calm yourself, love. She hasn't even worked a full day. Reality hasn't set in. How long will she last once the novelty of the job wears off and it's all grind—no entertainment, no friends, no places to shop and get her nails done?"

All the fight left her mum. "Not long."

A Stinging Hex would have been less painful. Her parents thought she was naïve, foolishly trusting and superficial. Well, at least they said what they thought to her face. Other people waited until they believed she was out of earshot to make insulting comments. Lily gave her mum and dad the same treatment she gave anyone else who criticized her. She smiled as if she hadn't heard them. "I have to return to work," she said, waggling her fingers goodbye before Apparating.

She sagged against the front door once she'd made it inside. Lily attempted to remove the cufflinks from the elasticised band, but they'd become entangled. She ripped the band and cufflinks out and hurled them with all her might. Draco almost stepped on a cufflink when he walked into the entry from the drawing room. He picked up the scattered items.

"I—I hate buns," she said.

"I dislike them myself at the moment," he replied.

He stood relaxed, hands in pockets, but the steel in his tone told her he wasn't talking about hairstyles any more than she was. He'd heard every word she and her parents said. Stevens probably had as well. Lily looked down and pushed her long hair away from her face. "You know what else I hate? This outfit. If you expect me to dress like an office worker—"

"This is a private home. Casual attire is permissible."

She pinched the skin at her wrist. "Nope. Not dreaming." Her lips twisted. "Although what happened outside was more of a nightmare." She straightened to her full, not very lofty, height, determined not to let her parents ruin her first day on the job.

Before she could suggest they return to the library, Draco said, "Mrs. Stevens is serving lunch on the terrace."

Lily's stomach took the announcement as its cue to growl, reminding her that she hadn't eaten more than a few tapas the night before and had skipped breakfast to run away from home. She said, "Lead the way."

Hungry as she was, Lily spent more time gazing at the formal gardens than eating the Provencal salad of arugula, chicken, pine nuts, currants, and lemon-marinated slices of courgette. If Scorpius had shown her a picture of the view, she'd have called it pretentious, but the lawned gardens weren't merely a symbol of the wealth required to keep all the greenery precisely trimmed and the gravel paths immaculate and free of weeds. They were beautiful and soothing. She drew in a breath of fresh air perfumed by roses and lavender.

"Would you prefer something else?" Across the table shaded by a garden parasol, Draco appeared concerned that she didn't like the food.

"Oh, no. This is one of the best salads I've ever had." She ate a bite to prove she really did enjoy the salad. They continued to eat in companionable silence.

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Draco gave her the afternoon off to settle in. Thankfully, the guest room had a spacious walk-in wardrobe. She quickly stowed her things away and wandered around the manor once she'd chosen a dress to wear to dinner. She discovered the indoor pool Lucius Malfoy had built to keep his young grandson from swimming in the garden fountain. The addition stood in place of what had been a conservatory. Bronze sea serpents poured water into each corner of the pool. Black tiles marked the swimming lanes, the walls and bottom of the pool tiled in sea foam green. She found a shower and changing room near a door that led outside and decided to stash a towel and swimsuit there before going on a run in the morning.

Further exploration led her to a palatial kitchen. A slim older woman wearing a grey dress protected by an immaculate white chef's apron stood at a marble-topped pastry table pounding cling film wrapped pastry into a flat disc using a rolling pin.

"Mrs. Stevens?" Lily asked. She offered her hand. "I'm Lily Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you. Lunch was delicious."

"Even the salad?"

Oh, no, Stevens told his wife I picked at the food. "Yes, although the view distracted me from eating." She received a grudging nod. "Are you making puff pastry?" Lily asked. Kreacher made it whenever her dad had a craving for apple pie parcels.

"Why? Do you bake?"

"No. I mostly watch other people cook and admire their efforts."

"We'll get along, then." Mrs. Stevens raised the rolling pin and brought it down with a thump. "Tea is served in the library whenever Mr. Malfoy asks for it, and dinner will be served at eight in the first floor dining room." Her tone dismissed.

Lily thanked her and retreated into the corridor. A stone staircase beckoned her up to the first floor. She found the dining room and then walked along the gallery until she neared the stone staircase at the opposite end: the one closest to the library. There were two doors near the stairs. A quick peek and she'd know which one was occupied.

She marched past them to the staircase.

Draco and Stevens were in the library. Draco waved his wand to levitate a pyramid of scrolls across the room while Stevens placed the tea tray he was carrying onto the cleared space on the desktop.

"Do you do that every time you have tea?" Lily asked from the doorway.

The scrolls fell to the ground.

Lily rushed over to pick them up. "Sorry for breaking your concentration. Did you mean to set them on the lid of a trunk?" She attempted to form a pyramid shape, but scrolls kept rolling down.

"I arranged them in a specific order," Draco said. "They won't stack any other way."

"All right. Tell me what to put where."

"Never mind." Draco sat at the desk and accepted a cup of tea from Stevens. His expression was a mix of irritation and . . . embarrassment? She'd bet anything that he'd forgotten how he'd arranged the scrolls.

"Tea, miss?"

"Thank you. Lemon, no sugar." She perched on a gilded chair Stevens must have taken from another room; it hadn't been in the library earlier. Lily waited for the butler to leave before asking, "Have you gone off cakes and biscuits? According to Scorpius, your sweet tooth is legendary." There was only a teapot, creamer, sugar bowl, and a dish of lemon wedges on the tea tray.

Draco said, "Men can't indulge themselves like boys."

She heaved a regretful sigh. "And women can't load their cups with cream and sugar like girls. Not if they want to avoid the Weasley hips that go with the Weasley ba—uh, babbling. I'm babbling. Terrible habit. Trying to quit." She was uncomfortably aware that she was holding the saucer and cup at chest height, directly in front of the Weasley baps she'd almost mentioned. "Thank you for the tea. I—I think I'll rest until dinner." She returned the cup and saucer to the tray and attempted to leave before the flush scorching up her torso reached her face. A question she'd forgotten to ask stopped her in her tracks. She glanced over her shoulder. "You do dress for dinner, don't you?"

"Uh, yes."

It wasn't until Lily was lying on her bed with a wet flannel cooling her brow that she realised Draco had been holding sugar tongs with two cubes seized between the shell-shaped tips when he'd answered.

.

.

Dinner that evening set the tone of their working relationship. They were polite, mainly discussed his research, and whenever their eyes met and held at random moments, each looked somewhere else and acted as though it had never happened.

On Monday, Lily's run followed by a swim in the pool was so invigorating she resolved to make it a daily habit.

Friday morning, after showering off the sweat of a run that for the first time hadn't had her groaning at the midpoint and walking back, she pulled on her green one-piece swimsuit and headed for the pool.

Draco was swimming laps.

Lean muscled body, long arms and legs, broad shoulders—no wonder he looked so elegant in dinner jackets. He exercised to make the most of what Malfoy genes had blessed him with, while she had to work out to keep her shape firm instead of flabby. Damned Weasley curves. She'd rather be a slim wand than an hourglass.

And George wants his ear back.

Merlin, did she have to think of her mum's favourite retort while admiring the body of the man who used to be her father's enemy? A man the same age as her father, even if he was more handsome and fit, and she didn't care that he was Scorpius's dad as long as he didn't act fatherly toward her.

"Lily? Are you all right?"

She was standing at the edge of the pool with no memory of walking across from the changing room. Draco held onto the edge of the pool, staring up at her. She said, "I think I ran too hard. The scenery is . . . ." Oh gods, he was pulling himself out of the water. "Stunning." The instant the word fell from her lips, her face heated. Could she have made it more obvious that she was riveted by the view of him and not the manor grounds? She whispered, "Can I Apparate inside the house?" When he started to nod, Lily Apparated.

.

.

Breakfast was usually a hit or miss meal, so it didn't bother her to skip it in order to put off having to face Draco for a few more hours. Since he didn't usually work until after lunch, Lily got dressed and Apparated to the library. Four days of extensive overview of the "system" had strengthened her initial impression that it was in dire need of organising.

She used an Engorgement Charm to create a poster-sized rectangle of parchment, set it on the floor, and knelt to draw the library in its current state. Lily had earned Outstandings in Muggle Art, and briefly considered training at Creevey Studios. In the end, she preferred drawing as a hobby rather than a career, despite her brothers' disappointment that she wouldn't be helping to create wizard comics.

"What are you doing?"

Lily didn't wear a watch, and there was no clock, but it couldn't be after lunch. "I'm almost done sketching the 'Before' library." She continued to work. "I signed and dated it, if you want to frame it for posterity."

She didn't hear footsteps, but she caught a glimpse of grey trousers in her peripheral vision. "Before implies an after," Draco said. He moved to stand beside her and nudged the parchment with the toe of his patent-leather shoe. "How do I know I'll like the change?"

"How did you know brown shoes would work with a grey suit?" She tilted her head to see his face. "You tried it, and then you liked it." She averted her gaze when heat prickled her chest. No! No blushing!

He watched her draw until she couldn't stand the silence and asked, "Is there anything I've forgotten?"

"I've stashed research on the Philosopher's Stone in seven places, not five." Draco bent down on one knee. "You missed one here." He pointed. "And here."

She leaned in to make notes. Her arm brushed his, and he didn't stiffen or move away. Lily sneaked a look at him out of the corner of her eye; he was glancing at her in the same manner. If she turned her head, would he kiss her? No, of course he wouldn't. She was his assistant. It would be extremely unprofessional.

And extremely hot.

Lily dropped her quill onto her skirt. "I'm such a butterfingers," she said. "I'll go change." She jumped to her feet.

.

.

In the kitchen, Mrs. Stevens taught her a Cleaning Charm to remove ink from fabric and handed her a plate with slices of a galette topped with roasted aubergine, tomato, and mozzarella when Lily said she had letters to write and wouldn't be joining Mr. Malfoy on the terrace for lunch. The letter writing wasn't a complete lie. She'd intended to write Kreacher sometime that day. She propped up on bed pillows, trying not to drop crumbs or pieces of veg on the parchment as she ate and wrote:

Dear Kreacher,

I'm sending you a mini drawing until I can send you a photograph of the library. Remember when I said you'd appreciate your treasures more if they weren't piled in heaps like a dragon's hoard? I'm convincing my employer that he'll prefer his research organised too. Tell Mum and Dad that I enjoy my work, and if they're behind the rumours in the papers that a celebrity daughter of a wizarding hero left London to enter treatment at a posh rehab clinic, it isn't going to make me scurry back to prove the gossips wrong. I'm having too much fun imagining Mum and Dad hounded by reporters asking them to comment.

Even more satisfying was the thought of her parents dealing with all the relatives who'd want to know if the stories were true. What were they going to say? If her hand on the Weasley family clock remained on travelling while she was at the manor, would they tell everyone that she was taking a break to travel and "find herself"? She ended her letter with:

I wish you could visit, but since I know you can't, I'm sending my love.

Your forever friend,

Lily.

Once she'd written his name on the envelope, Lily changed out of the spell-cleaned dress. Draco had told her he'd permit informal attire, yet she'd never really taken him up on it. Even her sundresses were designer casual. She paired a Puddlemere United t-shirt she'd had since James signed with the team with jeans that were almost as old: her low-key outfit. It had worked like a charm at school. Whenever a boy got her flustered, Lily would dress low-key instead of girly and relate to him as a person instead of a potential boyfriend. It cured her embarrassing blushes every time, and if it ended her romantic interest as well, she reckoned it wasn't meant to be.

Lily strolled into the library feeling calm and confident. And then she saw the framed drawing on the desk.

"I thought glass would protect it from wear and tear or a spilled cup of tea." Draco stood at the far end of the room next to an opened trunk. The buttons at his throat were undone, and he'd rolled up his shirtsleeves to his elbows. She could see the scar where a Dark Mark had once been burned into his inner forearm. Was this his version of a low-key outfit? "Bring the drawing over here," he said.

She nodded. If he'd only framed her work for practical reasons, she wasn't going to thank him for it like he planned to cherish it forever. "What do you need it for?"

"Double-checking my memory."

They went through each trunk to confirm that everything stored within matched the notes on the drawing. Her plan to relate to him as a person was impossible to carry out when he was constantly listing items for her to verify. "Isn't your voice getting tired?" she asked after he'd closed the lid on the fourth trunk. If they took a break for tea, they could have a proper chat.

"A bit," he said. "Why don't I check off the items while you call them out?"

"That's a rhetorical question, right?" she asked dryly. She smiled, hearing his chuckle. At least he had a sense of humour. Her smile died when she opened the lid of the next trunk; it was only half full. She wasn't tall and didn't have long arms to reach in without bending over. Draco was going to get more than an eyeful of her denim-covered arse. Was it a prank? Did he think she'd eventually overbalance and fall into the trunk? If so, the joke was on him. She'd stand on her toes like a ballerina if she had to, and he could stare at her round Weasley arse until the image was burned into his retinas. Smirking at the thought, she bent and reached for the first file in the trunk.

She listed the items in two trunks before Draco pronounced them finished for the day. He left the library before she could ask if they were having dinner together. It was Friday night. Did he have other plans? A date? Scorpius worried that his father was turning into a hermit or worse: easy prey for the newly separated Pansy Parkinson Bletchley.

Lily wrinkled her nose in disgust. Orna Bletchley had been two years ahead of her at school. The Slytherin had sneered at anyone with the name Potter or Weasley and proudly claimed to be the "purest witch at Hogwarts." Lily, overhearing Rose telling some mates about it, had said, "Doesn't she mean 'purist bitch'?" The name stuck, and Orna had tried to spread rumours and pay Lily back for it every way she could until she left school. The thought of Orna's mother, the original pug-faced purist bitch, putting her talons on any part of Draco's body made Lily want to hex someone. She went for a swim to burn off negative energy.

Draco was already in the pool.

Lily chose the lane at the opposite end.

She liked the backstroke because it was easy and kept her face above the water. Flutter kicks were fun, and as long as she counted her strokes she wouldn't bash her head against the pool wall. Unfortunately, she wasn't the best swimmer, so after twenty laps she was knackered while Mr. Advanced Swimmer kept going. Lily practiced treading water as an excuse to stay in the pool watching him transition from one stroke to another: back stroke, breast stroke, freestyle, and then sprint-swimming freestyle before slowing.

Her heart jumped into her throat. What if he swam over to talk to her? She clambered out of the pool and Apparated.

.

.

After a shower spent building up her determination to get to know Draco as a person and stop blushing like she hadn't experienced sexual attraction before, Lily chose the plainest little black dress she owned to wear that evening. The wrap-style dress emphasized what she liked most about her figure, her small waist, while covering what she didn't want to put on show.

Draco joined her for dinner, and the tailored fit of his black dinner jacket set off what he must like: broad shoulders that made the rest of his torso appear slim and fit even with clothes on. She could relate to wanting to look one's best. It was a start.

They traded good evenings, and she complimented him on being an excellent swimmer, adding, "I was embarrassed to be in the same pool." Embarrassed that I wanted to jump you. Stop picturing it, brain!

"No need," he said. "You have fine form."

"So do you." Keep looking at his face, eyes!

Stevens served what looked like whipped potatoes with toasts for starters.

"Brandade de Morue, whipped salt cod," Draco said.

"I got the whipped part right," she replied.

He smiled. "It's made with potatoes. Scorpius enjoys it, and he rarely eats fish."

The mixture on toast was a delicious combination of silkiness and crunch. They chatted about food through the next two courses. She'd grown up with Kreacher cooking hearty English fare, while Mrs. Stevens was trained in the French culinary tradition, but both Lily and Draco loved other people's cooking and had little interest in making more than a sandwich or a cup of tea on their own.

Once Stevens served caramel drizzled meringues on vanilla custard, she said, "We've ended with a cheese course every other night."

"I'll use a Vanishing Charm if you'd prefer not to indulge." Draco slid a hand toward an inside jacket pocket.

"Don't you dare!" Lily dug her spoon into a meringue. "An alarm would go off in the kitchen and Mrs. Stevens would jinx you." He grinned mischievously, and she returned his grin before asking, "Will we fend for ourselves tomorrow? I've been here since Sunday, so I'm assuming the Stevenses have Saturdays off."

"They do." All of a sudden, Draco was absorbed with eating his dessert.

Lily said, "Scorpius told us about your racing broom collection. I thought it would be fun if we flew over Stonehenge—using Disillusionment Charms, of course." If she did friend type things with Draco, maybe they'd become as comfortable as friends.

"I never realised Scorpius was so chatty," Draco said.

"He isn't. I just remember things I find fa—interesting." She stuffed another spoonful of meringue and custard into her mouth. "Mmm." It was a slip of the tongue. Ignore it.

His lips only curved, but he might as well have said, "So you think I'm fascinating?"

.

.

Flying on the latest Nimbus racing broom and getting a bird's eye view of a national treasure were experiences she'd never forget. The images of Draco wearing a form-fitting grey t-shirt and jeans, flying beside her and later challenging her to a sandwich making competition were unforgettable too. His Malfoy Monte Cristo won over her Potter pastrami and Swiss on rye, and her growing urge to kiss him nearly overcame her common sense. She took a cold shower before bed.

The next morning, she awoke resolved to choose a friend activity that couldn't be misinterpreted by her lust-fogged brain as anything resembling a date. She rummaged through the sports gear stored in the wardrobe in Scorpius's old bedroom and found what she was looking for. She tucked a flamingo shaped mallet under her arm and Apparated to the dining room.

"You have an Alice in Wonderland croquet set!" she told Draco, who was reading the Sunday edition of the Daily Prophet. She waved the mallet. "I can't wait to whack one of those cute hedgehog balls. When I beat you, I'm going to say, 'Off with his head!'"

"I don't play croquet."

"Somebody used to. I saw dirt smudges on the playing cards that form the hoops."

A muscle worked in Draco's jaw. He resumed reading his paper, or pretended to; he stared at one spot.

"It's easy to learn," she said.

"No." He turned the page, his expression as remote and disinterested as his tone.

Lily waited for him to look at her. He didn't. She said, "OK. I'll ask the Stevenses. We'll be on the east lawn if you change your mind."

She Apparated to the kitchen. Stevens and his wife sat at a cosy round table in the bay window nook, working the Daily Prophet crossword puzzle together. When Lily said, "Good morning," they returned her greeting with professional courtesy. She lifted the flamingo mallet. "Would you like to play croquet with me?"

The couple traded glances. Mrs. Stevens asked, "Is . . . Mr. Malfoy . . .joining us?"

"He said he doesn't play," Lily said in a small voice that grew smaller as she confessed, "I told him we'd be playing on the east lawn if he wants to join us."

Another look passed between the couple. Why had she thought they'd be interested? When they politely declined her invitation, she was going to raid the drinks cabinet for vodka or tequila and down a shot every time she hit the ball through a hoop.

"All right," Mrs. Stevens said. "East lawn in half an hour?"

"Y-yes, that would be lovely." Lily hugged the mallet to her chest since she doubted the couple would appreciate her hugging them. "I'll set everything up." She backed away smiling. "Thank you."

"Proper attire is all white, preferably with a matching hat," Mrs. Stevens said.

Lily would've dressed like Alice if they'd asked. "Of course."

She chose a sundress with a handkerchief hem that swirled around her calves and a white sunhat with a wide, floppy brim. Mrs. Stevens wore an ankle-length dress and small-brimmed hat, while Stevens, dressed in a white linen suit, wore a flat cap. They smiled when Lily told them, "You look smashing!"

Mrs. Stevens was explaining that since they were an odd number, they would each play two balls, blue and black, green and yellow, or green and brown when Lily saw Draco striding across the lawn, white shirt sleeves rolled up, a white fedora on his head. She ran to him.

"Perfect timing. We haven't started yet." She fell into step beside him. "What made you change your mind? Didn't want to miss out on all the fun?" Her tone was jesting, but his expression remained solemn.

"Father didn't approve of Muggle games, so I always abstained to keep the peace."

"Always?" Surely he'd played croquet with his wife and son when his parents weren't around.

Draco nodded. "Father insisted I set the proper example when Astoria went against his beliefs. Coward that I was, I didn't argue, although I encouraged Scorpius to follow his mother's lead and try new things and think for himself."

Lily didn't quite have the guts to take his hand and give it an encouraging squeeze. She bumped his shoulder with hers. "And now you're trying new things. Scorpius will be proud."

"Will he?"

Oh, to Muggle hell with self-doubt. Lily clasped his hand. "I am," she said, giving his fingers a squeeze before tugging them to make him walk faster. They had a match to play.

The Stevenses worked so well as a team, Lily accused them of being professional croquet players. She and Draco laughed too much and didn't concentrate on their shots, much less tactics. They made it easy for the other couple to hit their hedgehogs and take additional shots. Lily proposed silly bets over who would send their hedgehog through a particular hoop first, and who would hit their partner's hedgehog instead of their opponents'. She had to hop on one foot while attempting her final shot.

"I've never had a better time losing," she told Draco as they pulled up the hoops and stakes. "And that's saying something, because I never win against my family. There's always someone who's better than me. Even the babies win staring contests."

"Babies sleep more, so they blink less," Draco said. "Their eyes have more moisture."

"Those little cheaters!" Lily sorted the armful of equipment she'd collected and placed it on the croquet stand. Her fingertips brushed across Draco's hand as he placed flamingo mallets in their holders. A shiver of awareness coursed through her, an ache to feel those beautiful hands caressing her skin.

"I'll return the croquet set to Scorpius's room if you want to help Mrs. Stevens in the kitchen," Draco said, reminding her that the gracious victors had volunteered to make raspberry lemonade for a post-match celebration. His voice had a husky edge to it; their attraction was mutual.

Lily Apparated.

.

.

Her strategy to do friend activities had backfired. She decided more work was the answer. During their lemonade and biscuits celebration in the kitchen, she asked if the Stevenses cleaned the manor all on their own. "I can help in the mornings," she said. "Kreacher taught me Cleaning Charms, and he even trusts me to polish the Black family silver."

"Goblin crews maintain the grounds and clean the unused areas of the manor twice a month," Mrs. Stevens said. "There's a daily schedule to take care of the rest. I'm sure Mr. Malfoy will appreciate your assistance with the dusting and polishing."

Lily fought not to show her surprise. "You don't sleep in every morning?" she asked Draco. "You help clean?"

His eyes crinkled with humour. "And then I reward myself with a swim."

"I go for a run and then I swim," she said. "If you want to keep your routine, I can—"

"I'd like to try running. If you'll be my coach, I'll teach you some different swim strokes in return."

Draco's tone was reasonable, yet he'd practically shoved her toward the kitchen to put space between them. Why would he suggest they go running and swim together in addition to cleaning the manor and organising his research? Did he believe the more time they spent together, the more they'd see each other's flaws and the quicker their attraction would fade?

"Sure," she said. "I'm willing to give it a go."

.

.

By the end of their second run, she was calling herself every kind of idiot for going along with Draco's idea. Her physical attraction to him had escalated, and she actually liked him more every day. He had a self-deprecating sense of humour, and knew so much about the manor it was obvious where Scorpius got his interest in history. Although she was more interested in the people of the past rather than wars and dates, Lily enjoyed hearing about the items they cleaned. Her favourite subject, though, was alchemy.

She'd never known that Muggles considered alchemy to be a protoscience that became the field of chemistry. The only thing she remembered Binns teaching her class about Muggle alchemists was their eternal quest to turn lead into gold. Draco showed her texts that revealed a humanitarian goal; Medieval alchemists searched for a way to transmute sickness and disease into health. Texts were written using obscure language and double meanings, which led to misinterpretation. Wizard alchemists used the phrase lead into gold as code for a transmutation of self: the art of the Animagi. Gold in Muggle writings often meant magic. Muggles believed if an alchemist could comprehend the properties of a material, it was possible to break down the physical structure and reform it using spells if one had the gift of magic. In other words, if one was a witch or wizard.

"What are we going to do with your research?" Lily finally asked at the end of her second work week. She'd come up with an organisation plan to suit Draco's preference to access his research by subject, not author. The books and files hadn't been sorted, but they'd finished the first part of the plan. The focal point of the library was now the wall of bookshelves behind the desk, a display of museum quality to modern alchemical tools and boxed and bottled substances formerly hidden in trunks and now labelled and safely locked away behind unbreakable glass compartments.

They stood together inside the doorway to admire their handiwork. "Have you forgotten already?" Draco asked, gesturing to the framed "After" library drawing on top of his desk.

"I mean once everything is in its place. Have you thought of writing books on alchemy? Your notes are so extensive, they're practically chapters. Scorpius doesn't have to be the only Malfoy author on the shelves at Flourish and Blott's."

"I've never considered it," Draco replied. "My research started as a distraction and became a passion." His gaze held hers. "You'd have to organise it all. It might take years."

Her heart skipped a beat before trying to pound out of her chest. "If I do any writing, I want credit as coauthor."

"Agreed. And I'd like you to draw the illustrations."

They were smiling into each other's eyes when Stevens brought in the tea tray and five letters addressed to Lily. She excused herself and went to her room.

.

.

Kreacher had sent a short note hoping she was well and thanking her for the drawing and pictures of the library. Her dad's note was an apology for saying she wouldn't last at a job once the novelty wore off. He should've had more faith in her, and he would ask her mum to hold off revealing her whereabouts for another week or two. The last letter was from Rose.

Lily Lunatic, are you really sunning yourself by the Côte d'Azur? If Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny dragged you off to a rehab you don't need, I'll come and rescue you. Scorpius is writing fast and furious, so engrossed he hasn't visited his father in weeks. If you think the rescue needs both of us, though, I'll snap him out of his trance by promising something kinky. Works every time.

Répondez s'il vous plait, cher cousin,

Rose

Worse than the mental image of Rose holding a riding crop was the thought of Scorpius snapping out of his writer's trance to visit his father. Lily needed more time. The library reorganisation wasn't finished. She hadn't had a chance to come up with a book proposal. She liked having Draco all to herself. The last thought drew a groan from the depths of her being. What would her family say if they knew? Nothing she wanted to hear, that was certain.

Lily answered Rose's letter.

Rosie, cher cousin, I almost wish I needed rescue, but I'm staying at a gorgeous place and keeping busy in shocking ways—drawing, running (No photographers around to snap unflattering photos!) and swimming. I only have a glass of wine with dinner, too, if you can believe it, and I've found a way to use my organising superpower, as Al calls it, to help someone.

Give the family my love and tell them I'm enjoying myself too much to come home, and not to pester me about it.

She signed her name and stopped by the owlery to send the letter before joining Draco for dinner.

"Everything all right at home?" he asked.

"Everyone's fine." She told him about Scorpius's writer's trance while Stevens served halved baby artichokes poached with herbs and lemon.

"Books enchanted him like that when he was young," Draco said. "Stevens can tell you."

"We used to have to dust around him." The butler's expression was stoic, but his eyes gleamed with affection for Scorpius.

When Stevens went back to the kitchen, Lily asked, "Have you told Scorpius that you've hired an assistant?"

Draco shook his head. "I didn't want to disturb his writing. We send brief letters back and forth to say all is well, and in the last one I mentioned I'd taken up running in order to have sweets now and then." His lips turned slightly upward. "If the amount of sweat it produces is any indication, running burns more kilocalories than swimming."

Drawing, running . . . .

Surely Rose wouldn't assume that Lily and Draco had both mentioned running in their letters because they were running together?

"Is something wrong?" Draco asked.

She said the first thing that popped into her mind. "I'm wondering if I'm a bad influence. You told me men don't indulge in sweets, and now—"

"Men can't indulge themselves like boys," Draco said. "We have to be more discriminating. Savour every bite."

Her lips parted. There were so many arousing places he could bite her softly. Along the sides of her throat, across the back of her neck . . . her shoulders . . . and lower. "Women are selective too," she replied. "We don't indulge unless we crave something so badly we have to have it." She'd never bitten a lover's neck, not even playfully, but it was easy to imagine pressing an open-mouthed kiss to Draco's neck and taking a sensual bite, especially if he bit her first to show he liked that kind of thing.

He cleared his throat and picked up his fork and knife. "Stevens should return in a few minutes."

"Meaning he'll tattle if we don't eat anything." Lily jabbed a baby artichoke stem with her fork and bit off the head with a snap of her teeth.

Draco set down his knife and speared a baby artichoke stem.

She pretended to sneer. "Typical Slytherin, using Gryffindor tactics."

Compared to her, he curled his lip like a rock star. "Anything Gryffindors do, Slytherins can do better."

They were laughing over their plates of baby artichoke stems when Stevens entered the dining room with the next course.

The meal ended with a selection of cheese, which was a relief. Indulging in dessert would lead to thoughts of other way they could indulge their appetites, like swimming in the nude. Lily Apparated immediately after dinner; she didn't trust herself not to tell Draco she was going for a night-time swim. Once in her room, Lily remembered that she hadn't asked if he already had plans for tomorrow. She wrote a note, folded the parchment into a paper airplane, and cast the spell to send it flying like a Ministry interdepartmental memo.

Doubt struck. What if he hadn't mentioned the lake she'd spotted from the air because it was a private memorial for his late wife, and he hiked through the woods every year to stand on the bank and throw flowers into the water for remembrance? Lily stopped pacing around the lounge to bury her face in her hands. I'd still want us to make love on a picnic rug next to the lake. I'm sorry, Astoria!

She was almost too afraid to read his reply when it came, but she did it anyway.

I haven't been to the lake in years. It used to be visible from the manor, but Mother worried I'd toddle into it and drown, so she ordered Dobby to use his magic to create a woodland barrier between the lake and the manor. Would you prefer to fly or hike?

It wasn't a memorial lake! Lily replied that she'd like to fly, and if he was up for another sandwich making contest, they could meet in the kitchen at eleven to pack a picnic basket.

When the airplane returned almost at once, she unfolded the parchment and read: It's a date.

.

.

Those three simple words kept her up half the night. She was going on a date with Draco Lucius Malfoy. Not an outing as co-workers, or hanging out as friends. They were admitting they were attracted to each other and wanted to explore the possibility of a romantic relationship. Get to know each other more intimately.

Lily had fantasized about kissing Draco, had dreamed about doing more than that. What would the reality be like? She tossed and turned and finally dug through her apothecary chest for a sleep potion that guaranteed sweet dreams.

She awoke in a daylit room and turned to the bedside clock. It was a quarter past ten! She couldn't remember a single dream either. Lily hurried to shower and dress, vowing to demand her Galleons back from the Morpheus Company when she had the time. She washed her hair and put it up in a high ponytail so it wouldn't look like a rat's nest after flying. A bright blue halter top and black shorts set off her fair skin. Aside from SPF moisturizer, she wore nothing on her face except a lipstick formulated for redheads called Botticelli Nude. A glance at the clock revealed the time: 10:55. She walked to the manor kitchen, butterflies performing operatic swoops in her stomach.

Draco was sitting at the table in the window nook, reading the paper. The navy buttoned-down shirt he wore with jeans would've seemed business-like if it hadn't been tailored to fit like a glove. He'd rolled the sleeves up; no other man's forearms had ever looked so sexy.

"You made breakfast," she said when he lifted his gaze and caught her staring.

He gestured to the teapot and plate of toast that had been grilled darker than the standard golden brown. "Such as it is. The Stevenses left early for some oyster festival on the Kent coast."

"Maybe they'll win the oyster eating contest." Lily sat down beside Draco. "Looks great. Butter's still melting—Stasis Charm?"

"Hmm."

He wasn't happy with the toast. Did he think it wasn't any good because it was a little dark? Lily picked up a triangle of toast that was russet perfection in her eyes and took a bite. "Mmm . . . delicious." She picked up the Lifestyle section of the Prophet. "I actually like this section when I don't see my photograph in it."

They chatted about stories they found interesting while they demolished the plate of toast and drank two cups of French Breakfast tea that had a taste of chocolate.

After washing up, they nosed through the pantry and coolant cupboard for sandwich ingredients. Lily said, "I've changed my mind about the rematch. Why don't you make lunch and I'll take care of dinner? Mrs. Stevens left us a jar of Bolognese sauce, one of my favourites. I can make fresh pasta."

The corners of his mouth tilted up.

"It's flour, eggs and loads of kneading. Even the culinary challenged can do it," she said. "You'll find out since I'm making you my assistant for doubting me."

"I accept, although I never doubted you." He reached into the coolant cupboard and brought out a container of pesto and a container of de-shelled hard boiled eggs and placed them next to a baguette that had been set out on the worktop near a picnic basket. "I'm amused that Mrs. Stevens also prepared the ingredients for my favourite sandwich."

They opted to pack the containers and make the sandwiches when they got hungry.

"Those aren't disposable, are they?" Lily asked when he opened the picnic basket, revealing the plates, glasses, and cutlery strapped to the inside lining. A rolled up green picnic rug was strapped to the outside of the basket.

Draco said, "I'll do the washing up."

"You remembered!" Days earlier, while they were dusting the paintings in the upstairs gallery, she'd mentioned that she didn't mind any kind of cleaning but dishes. The sight of food smeared on plates grossed her out.

His lips were curving again. "Hard to forget your pantomime of gagging."

Lily grabbed the tea towel by the sink and snapped it at him.

.

.

The lake had been created by Septimus Malfoy damming a small stream. Draco flew his racing broom alongside hers and pointed out the path that wound like a ribbon through the woods. The Goblin crews who maintained the estate kept the path clear and landscaped around the lake as well. Three sides were banked with rhododendrons and grass-like sedges. Blue-violet iris flowers dotted the shoreline. The smallest end of the lake was a beach made of pebbles.

They landed and dismounted. "Did you do this?" Lily asked, bending to scoop up a handful of pea-sized pebbles.

Draco unrolled the picnic rug. "The pebbles used to be cobbles the size of my fist. When I was six, I tripped and bloodied my knee in my haste to throw a stone into the water, and the next visit the pebbles were what you see here." He set the picnic basket in the centre of the rug and sat to the right, arms wrapped around his knees. "Dobby glared at me for weeks afterward. Magic like that drained him, and yet he was expected to constantly be at our beck and call."

Lily picked up the picnic basket and moved it to the far left side of the rug. She sat beside Draco. "You felt guilty."

"A sign of weak magic."

"What?"

He arched an eyebrow. "You didn't know that emotions like guilt and shame and compassion are signs that one isn't a proper wizard? Brutus Malfoy wrote the definitive article on it in 1675. Never heard of it? Shocking. My father quoted it whenever I showed the least trace of sensitivity, or Merlin forbid, cried." Draco used a wandless spell to levitate a pebble and hurl it into the lake. "Nothing is a surer sign of weak magic than wasting pity on lesser creatures," he said in an arrogant, drawling voice.

"Is that the way your father spoke?" Lily asked.

"The way I spoke, too, when I tried to make him proud. Don't care for the sound of it? Neither did anyone else. That's why I had allies instead of mates. No one likes a bully." He flicked his fingers and another pebble shot into the air toward the lake.

"I've heard the stories." Did he honestly think she didn't know what a nasty, spiteful little git he'd been? "I like the man you are now." She curled a hand around the nape of his neck to pull his head down to hers.

His lips brushed hers tentatively, and then he breathed out her name and slanted his mouth over Lily's. His fingers touched her cheek and then slid upward. She shivered when he slowly tugged the elastic band down to free her hair. He ran his fingers through the long strands and then gripped her hair to angle her head and deepen the kiss. Slow, drugging kisses had her doing some grasping of her own, clenching the material of his shirt and pulling his body down with hers as she leaned back on the rug. Draco's kisses grew passionate, and then he tore his mouth away and buried his face in the curve of her neck.

"I've fantasized about biting and kissing your throat," she said huskily, tensing in anticipation when his lips pressed against her skin. After a series of closed-mouth kisses, he curled her toes when he nibbled and then sucked. Lily moaned. His body thrust against her and then Draco pushed himself off her and sat up, breathing hard.

"This is going too fast. I'm taking advantage—"

She sat up and pressed her cheek against his back, wrapping her arms around his waist to give him a hug. "Bullshit," Lily said with a smile. "I was the one putting the moves on you."

"Is that right?"

The smile and male satisfaction in his voice made her giggle. "Yes, it is." She relaxed her hug to smooth a hand down his abdomen until she touched the waistband of his jeans. "And if we don't go flying until one of us gets hungry . . . for a sandwich . . . I might persuade you to swim nude."

Draco's hand captured hers and brought it to his lips. "There would be no persuasion necessary, I'm afraid."

Lily stood. "There's only one thing to fear right now." She swayed her hips as she walked past him.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Last one in the air makes the sandwiches!" she said as she snatched up a racing broom.

Draco used a Summoning Charm to retrieve his broomstick. He called her a "cheeky cheat," which caused her to laugh and almost lose her advantage because she didn't say, "Up!" plainly enough to activate the borrowed broom. Lily narrowly won the victory, and after receiving an aerial tour of the estate, she got to watch Draco assemble pesto and sliced egg on the baguette while she finger-combed her windblown hair. She didn't see her elastic band around. A bird must have snatched it up, perhaps to use to make its nest.

They decided to hike back to the manor after eating. Draco cast Mitto Charms to send the racing brooms and picnic basket to the terrace so they wouldn't have to carry them. They held hands as they hiked through the woods.

.

.

Since fresh pasta only took a couple of minutes to boil, they chose to make the dough ahead of time and set it aside until they needed to roll it out and cut it into noodles. She put Draco to work kneading once she'd mixed the flour and eggs together by hand. The way he pushed and pulled, massaging and turning the dough was a turn on. No wonder Granny Granger said women watched cooking programmes for the male chefs as much as the food! She told Draco, "We need to make different pasta every week." Fusilli, orecchiette, pappardelle . . . her mouth watered over the thought of him cooking with her, lifting a spoonful of sauce for her to taste.

"Smooth, not sticky. I'd say it's ready for the cling film."

He was talking about the dough, not her. Why did she have the mental image of being naked except for a layer of cling film, waiting for him to unwrap her? She handed him the box and asked, "Can you do it? I need a cold shower."

It didn't sink in until she was standing beneath the cooling spray that she'd actually said, "cold" and not just "shower." She giggled. It would do him good to know he got her hot and bothered.

Lily sent Draco a paper airplane message.

Let's put aprons over our evening wear and be the best dressed cooks in the wizarding world. I'm wearing emerald green, if you want to pick a silk pocket square to match.

He sent back: Meet at 7:30?

She answered: It's a date.

Her V-necked, floor length gown left her arms and a lot of cleavage bare. The sleek fabric hugged her figure in a way that made her proud of her Weasley curves. She styled her hair into a half-up, half-down style that had a touch of elegance while leaving her hair long and allowing a few pieces of hair to frame her face. She chose a bold red lipstick and nail colour.

Draco was filling a pot with water when she walked into the kitchen. He looked swoon-worthy in his tuxedo, as much as ease in black-tie as he was in jeans and a t-shirt. He glanced up. They stared at each other across the room.

Forget making dinner. Make love to me instead. She took a step toward him.

He moved towards her. "You're so beautiful I don't have words." He started to reach for her and then lowered his hand. "If I touch you, I won't be able to stop, and I don't want to rush this."

Fast, slow, anything sounded like bliss to her, but if having their dinner date would reassure him that being lovers was what they both wanted, the wait would be worth it. She smiled. "Do you know where Mrs. Stevens keeps her aprons? I'd hate to sprinkle flour on you and mar your perfection."

Draco found them chef's aprons and a long bread cutter to slice thin noodles once they'd rolled out the pasta dough on the floured worktable. He poured the sauce into a bowl and used a Warming Charm while she cooked the noodles and chopped parsley to toss with the drained pasta before ladling on the sauce. "It's a lovely evening," he said. "Shall we dine on the terrace?"

His tone seemed a little too casual. She nodded. "You bring the pasta, I'll get the cutlery and plates."

"The table's already set," he said, confirming her feeling that he'd arranged something.

He'd wrapped the potted trees on the terrace with enchanted Muggle fairy lights. The sun wouldn't set until after nine, but the house provided enough shadow to allow the lights to twinkle softly. "Where did you get these?" she asked, taking in the scene. The table was set with a white cloth and a red rose on one of the fine bone china plates.

"Scorpius used them to light his flat's terrace and had a few strands left over." Draco set the pasta dish in the centre of the table. "I should've had candles."

She picked up the rose and rubbed its velvety petals against her cheek. "Everything is beautiful. Thank you."

"My pleasure." He pulled out her chair. Once she was seated, he sat and removed the bottle from the silver wine cooler. "Scorpius gave this to me the last time he visited. I've never tried it before, but he assured me it's . . . fun . . .with pasta Bolognese."

"Bubbles are always fun," Lily said as she accepted a glass of sparkling red wine. She sipped. "I taste berries."

"Hmm." Draco eyed his own glass doubtfully, as if he suspected it cost four Galleons a bottle. "Are berries fun?"

"They're super fun." She laughed when he drank and said, "Mmm."

Throughout dinner, anticipation dulled her appetite and sharpened her senses. The whisper of breeze, the timbre of his voice, and the heated silver of his gaze sent pleasurable tingles down her spine. She wanted more. "I've never danced on a terrace," she said. "It would be a shame to waste the ambiance."

Draco stood. "I was forced to take comportment lessons, which included learning to waltz."

She rose to her feet. "What about slow dancing?"

"At age eight? I would've threatened to tell Father the teacher was making us dance like Muggles."

Lily said, "It's easy to learn."

"Easier than croquet?" Draco moved toward her and then halted. "Someone's in the house." He reached into his tuxedo jacket and withdrew his wand. "Get behind me."

She peeked around him when popping sounds were followed by a voice saying, "Dad! What the hell?"

Scorpius and Rose stood on the terrace, both casually, yet stylishly dressed, the image of two attractive young professionals who had decided to give a parent a surprise visit before they went out for the evening. Rose had recently cut her hair. The sleek auburn strands were now a chin-length bob. It suited her. Scorpius's blond hair was sticking out in odd places as if he hadn't combed it in days—or he'd grabbed it and tried to yank it out in distress when he'd seen them.

Lily stopped hiding behind Draco. "Hello. If we'd known you two were going to visit, we would've made more spaghetti."

Scorpius spared her an angry glance and then asked his father, "What's going on?" He made a wild, all-encompassing gesture. "The fairy lights. The clothes."

"You gave him the lights," Lily said.

Draco slanted a let me handle this look at her before telling Scorpius, "We always dress for dinner."

"Since when? Mom didn't believe in putting on airs. Clean clothes were dressy enough for her."

"And I respected Astoria's wishes."

Scorpius jerked his head back. "Her wishes? You enjoyed it when we had to suit up to have dinner with the grandparents?" He gave an abrupt laugh. "Stupid question. The answer's staring me in the face." His accusing gaze shifted to Lily. "Everyone knows you like to play dress up, but that ball gown is extreme, even for you."

"Mind your manners, son."

Draco's tone was a warning, but Scorpius acted as though he didn't hear him. "I remember that dress," he said. "At the last Auror Ball you said you'd never wear it again because men thought seeing a woman's cleavage meant the rest of her was on offer too." He looked from her to Draco. "Merlin, tell me you two aren't shagging!"

"Scorpius. Library. Now!" Draco Disapparated.

Scorpius gaped at the empty spot on the terrace where his father had stood. He turned to Rose. "Dad's having romantic dinners with Albus's little sister, and he's angry with me?"

"You showed up unannounced and started yelling, love. Try talking to him," Rose said. She asked Lily once Scorpius Disapparated, "Any wine left?"

Lily poured the sparkling red wine into her empty glass and handed it over before casting a Vanishing Spell on the food. She Apparated to the kitchen and placed the dishes in the sink.

Rose appeared a moment later. "I won't lie. This is the last place I expected you to be, but give me some credit. I'm the last person to judge you for fancying a Malfoy." A reminiscent smile crossed her face. "The family might have liked Scorpius, but they didn't like us, not at first. They came around."

"They won't ever like Draco," Lily said. The ache of regret she thought would form in her heart over that didn't materialise. She liked Draco, and that was enough.

A soft pop announced Scorpius's arrival in the kitchen. His face was red with temper. "You won't believe it," he told Rose. "Dad said I owe Lily an apology, and his relationship with her is none of my business!"

"It isn't," Lily said. "And you should apologise. You were rude and insulting."

Rose sighed. "Everyone calm down and we'll discuss this reasonably."

Scorpius gaped at them. "I'm unreasonable? How would either of you react if you saw your dad romancing a girl younger than you?"

"They're married. He isn't, and if you talked to Draco like that, no wonder he wouldn't talk to you." Lily glared.

He glared right back. "All right. I'll ask you. Are you sleeping together?"

"None of your business!"

Scorpius bristled. Rose put a hand on his arm and gently rubbed. He exhaled a long breath and told Lily, "Fine. I apologise for being rude, and I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions. I may have hoped Dad would hire someone . . . older . . . but you're brilliant at organising and he needs the help."

"Apology accepted," Lily replied.

Rose made a show of checking her watch. "Albus should be off duty and waiting for us at the Iron Shackle. One of his Auror partners wants to teach us how to play cricket darts." She hugged Lily. "Sorry for barging in on your evening."

Scorpius added half-pleadingly, half-joking, "Just tell us you don't fancy my dad so we can sleep at night, will you?"

As Lily met his gaze, the memory of kissing Draco on the picnic rug flashed into her mind. It wasn't her doing.

Colour drained from Scorpius's face. "Tell me that was an unhealthy fantasy. It didn't really happen."

Lily clenched her fists and cast a wandless Stinging Hex.

Scorpius cursed and rubbed at his hand. "Did you have to pick the one I write with?"

"You deserved it," Rose said, managing to sound both reprimanding and tender. "Draco and Lily's relationship is their business, and we're leaving before she casts a Bat-Bogey Hex."

"But he's my dad, Rosie! What happens to him when she's bored with playing lady of the manor?"

"I'll never get bored!" Lily cried. "I love it here. I love—" Merlin, what had she almost said?

She Apparated.

.

.

Draco wasn't in the library. She Apparated to the terrace. Empty. Could he have gone to the east wing? He wasn't there either. She walked upstairs and knocked on the door of the room closest to the library stairs.

"It's safe to come out," she called. "Scorpius and Rose went to meet Albus at a pub to play darts."

"I'm . . . tired," Draco said through the door. "Goodnight."

Goodnight? What had Scorpius said to him? They needed to talk. "Why don't I make hot chocolate and bring you a cup?"

"No thank you."

Lily bit her lip. "All right, but if you change your mind I'll be in my room." She swallowed around the lump of emotion clogging her throat. "Reading." She Apparated before she did something rash like pound her fists on the door, threatening to break it down unless he opened it.

.

.

On further thought, reading a romance novel struck her as masochistic, so she ended up taking a bubble bath instead. She left the bedroom and bathroom doors open, just in case. Lily took down her hair and then put it up in a messy bun to keep it dry and remind Draco of the day they met if he came to talk. It was easy to imagine him pausing in the doorway of her room, calling her name. He'd ask if she was all right, or maybe she'd say, "I'll be right out" and walk into the bedroom wrapped in a silk dressing gown tied so loosely, it only stayed on because it clung to her wet skin. He'd take one look at her, fall to his knees, and beg to worship her body.

Talk about an unhealthy fantasy! She could fall asleep and drown waiting for Draco Malfoy. Lily climbed out of the tub.

Long nightdress or short: that was the question. Was she trying to look elegant or sexy? Short, it was. The strappy black chemise trimmed in lace at the bodice seemed plain at first glance, but the silk clung in all the right places. She tried to relax on the bed. Her eyes kept straying to the bedside clock. 10:30 . . . 10:35 . . . 10:40 . . . . She threw a pillow across the room.

Waiting sucked dragon balls. She had to do something.

Lily sent Draco an airplane message: When will the Stevenses return?

Mr. I'm Tired soon answered: In the morning. They're spending the night in Whitstable.

She sent back: Excellent. I wouldn't want to shock them.

He replied: ?

Lily responded with her own question: Do you have any enchanted tiki torches?

She immediately sent another airplane: Just remembered seeing them in Scorpius's wardrobe. They should light the east lawn nicely. You don't mind me borrowing a bottle of Firewhisky from the drinks cupboard, do you? Cheers, goodnight.

.

.

Although she'd wheeled the croquet stand outside, Lily only set up a single hoop in the centre of the flat lawn. She placed three tiki torches at equal distances apart to act like the lights on a Muggle runway. The torch wicks lit up the moment she stuck the poles in the ground. She dropped the hedgehog ball between the torches at the far end from the hoop and swung her flamingo mallet. The hedgehog rolled straight and true, down the lawn and through the hoop. "Off with his head!" she shouted. She celebrated with a shot of Firewhisky and grimaced.

"It's meant to be sipped." Draco, barefoot, wearing loose black lounging trousers and a grey t-shirt, stood a few metres away watching her from the shadows. His voice slurred a little. "That's Ogden's Finest, not rotgut."

"It needs a chaser," she said. "D'you have any pickle juice?" A barman had told Lily it neutralised the burn when she'd asked why another patron was drinking it.

"Certainly not."

"Lemon-lime soda?" Her male cousins drank that with Firewhisky on poker nights.

"Doubtful."

She lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug, strolled over to the stand and chose another hedgehog ball. She lined it up, swung, and this time her aim was off. "Bollocks!" She started to walk to find the ball; a hand clasped hers.

"Drinking doesn't help."

Now that he was close to her, she could smell the Firewhisky on Draco's breath. "Doesn't it? I've had one, and I want to hit you with this mallet for shutting me out, while you're all calm and uncaring after—what, five drinks? Ten?"

"Didn't count. And I'm the opposite of uncaring. " He slipped two elastic hair bands over her hand and onto her wrist. "I'm bewitched."

Lily stared at the dark and bright blue bands.

"I took them, like a smitten schoolboy, because I wanted something to remember you by when you left."

He'd taken the navy band a few hours after she'd arrived. "You really didn't expect me to stay."

Draco rubbed his thumb over her inner wrist above the elastic bands. "I thought you were the woman I'd seen in the newspaper, but you were more beautiful and glowing with life." He drew closer. "You made me see the manor . . . my work . . . in a new light. I'd been going through the motions of living. You made me feel alive again."

"I feel the same way about you."

He pulled Lily into his arms and held her tight, lifting strands of her hair to rub against his cheek. "That's why I hid in my room with a decanter of Firewhisky." He bent to whisper in her ear, "I want you more."

She shivered. "More than what?"

"Anything." He chuckled, a drunken, self-mocking sound. "More than the respect of my son. More than my life, since your family will kill me for touching you." He cradled her face in his hands. "I dream about touching you."

If he was sober, she'd put his hands on her breasts and ask him to touch her body any way he'd like. She reached up and captured his hands. "Let's go inside."

"Hafta clean up."

"The torches extinguish themselves, and the croquet set will survive being left out overnight." She led him into the house.

Draco shook his head, refusing to enter her lounge. "My room." Remarkably, he swayed a bit from time to time, and she had to slide an arm around his waist to guide him up the stairs, but he never stumbled.

"Time for a nap," she said firmly, manoeuvring him over to the four-poster bed. A talented woodcarver had carved serpent-like dragons so lifelike they seemed to crawl up the posts. This must be the Abraxas Room. At least there were green velvet bed drapes to block the eerie sight. She opened the drapes. Carvings of serpent dragons writhed together on the headboard. Lily rolled her eyes and gave Draco a push toward the mattress. He pulled her down with him.

"Stay with me." He wrapped his arms around her and shifted them until they were lying on their sides with her head resting on a pillow and his cheek pillowed by her bosom. "Better than any dream."

Tenderness and a need to touch spurred Lily to lift the hand that wasn't pinned between them to caress his hair.

"Fixed it at a Swiss clinic," Draco muttered.

"Your hair?"

"Receding. Hated it. I'm a vain man," he said as if confessing a terrible failing.

She confessed hers. "I'm self-conscious about my weight because I heard Orna Bletchley tell her pals I was a future fatty. I don't go out in public unless I look my best." Lily kissed the top of his head. "I'm vain too."

"You're a goddess." Draco rubbed his cheek against her chest. "Won't give you up."

"Good. I won't give you up either." She whispered a spell to dim the illumination orbs on the bedside tables. Draco's breathing slowed and his body grew lax. Lily tried to sleep. Her mind kept replaying "your family will kill me for touching you" and "I'm not leaving our daughter in that house of horrors!" She needed to come up with a plan to be with Draco and keep out of her family's reach until their initial anger and hurt at her choice in partner subsided, or at least deescalated to non-violence. She could do it. It was another type of organisation, putting life in order instead of people's rooms or research.

Lily eased out of Draco's hold and borrowed his lightweight belted dressing gown before tip toeing downstairs to the library. She studied the notes on her drawings, the subjects of research, before Summoning her wand.

.

.

Some hours later, a soft "ahem" announced Stevens's presence. She turned to him with a smile. "Perfect timing!"

The imperturbable butler was staring at the newly organised library slack-jawed.

Lily paused to admire her handiwork. "Like something from an architecture and design magazine, isn't it? I sent the empty boxes and trunks to the attics," she told him.

Stevens started to ask why she'd stayed up all night to do something she could have done over days or weeks, she saw his mouth start to form the first word, and then he pressed his lips together. She could almost hear the wheels in his brain turning. He asked icily, "Will you be leaving us, Miss Potter?"

Like Scorpius, Stevens worried she'd hurt Draco. The lack of trust was annoying, yet sweet. She said, "Yes, and I'm taking Mr. Malfoy with me."

.

.

She ended up opening the window drapes to let the noon sunlight flood the room and wake Draco from his alcohol-deepened slumber. The way he cracked open an eyelid was very dragon-like. Lily resisted the urge to tickle him and removed the cork from a bottle of Nauseous No More. She handed it to him and removed the cork from the next bottle she'd lined up on the bedside table: Sober Up Potion. "Kreacher was handing me Pain Relief potions a couple of weeks ago. It seems like another life now. Everything has changed."

"I know the feeling."

Draco sat up and drank the contents of each bottle without reading the labels. Aw, somebody trusted her. She handed him a brushing/flossing mint. "So I can kiss you good morning."

He chewed the mint, frowning. "Why are you dressed?"

Instead of crawling back into bed wearing her short sexy chemise and taking up where they left off? When he took off his t-shirt, her reason didn't seem good enough. "We'll be travelling." Her blush-coloured sheath dress was made from a stretchy fabric that never wrinkled.

The slow blink he did was also dragon-like. "Where are we going?"

"Colmar, France, to start. Capital of the Alsatian wines and home of Jean De Vigenere, alchemist Animagus. Mrs. Stevens made arrangements with a wizard travel agency. We're renting a villa with a pool. Very private." They were definitely swimming nude.

"Alchemist Animagus?"

That would catch his attention. "The first of twelve we'll be writing about in our book." She waved her hand as if conjuring the title. "Alchemist Animagi. I'll do the drawings, and we'll work on the chapters." She lifted a black leather briefcase from the floor and placed it on the bed. "Stevens cast a Capacious Charm. All your research on the twelve alchemists is packed inside." She picked up her tote next and set it on top of the briefcase. "I just packed enough to last a couple of weeks. There's plenty of room for your clothes."

Draco shook his head as if he couldn't believe this was happening. "Your family—"

"Will receive letters telling them about our work and what a wonderful time I'm having." Lily lifted her chin. "When we go to Paris, Milan, or Berlin, we'll go shopping, dine in restaurants and visit clubs where wizard photographers will see us and send photographs to the Prophet. After enough letters and enough photos, like it or not, they'll understand how we feel about each other."

He gazed at her with so much hope and passion, she reckoned it was time he understood how she felt about him. Lily took off her dress.

"You said we were leaving," Draco murmured.

"You need a shower before we pack your things."

He was off the bed, sweeping her into his arms, devouring her mouth with kisses before kissing her neck. "Astoria said I had a heart of gold concealed beneath a Malfoy façade," he said softly, "but I don't, because I wanted to be with you like this from the moment you smiled at me." He raked his teeth softly over her skin. "I'll always want you."

"I don't care about gold. I only want your heart," Lily said on a moan.

"It's yours," he said, and kissed her neck again before taking a sensual bite.

.

.

End notes: Inspiration for Lily and Draco came from the play stating that Draco was reclusive before and after the death of Astoria, and his family wealth allowed him to study alchemy instead of having to get (as Lily told her parents) a real job. It also came from a tv tropes article about the stunningly attractive, high on life Manic Pixie Dream Girl who shows the stuffed shirt hero how to live freely and love madly without any goals for her own happiness. It's an overused term and limiting. Why can't a girl that's quirky and fun bring adventure to her own life as well as the brooding guy's? That's what I wanted to write.

Inspiration also came from Pride and Prejudice (Draco Darcy, heh), from the intense awareness the characters felt for each other, that "Darcy had never been bewitched by any woman as he was by her," and the part of the novel where Elizabeth tours Pemberly and sees Darcy in a new light. Scorpius got the catalyst/Lady Catherine role. The "unhealthy fantasy" and not having a heart of gold concealed beneath a Malfoy façade came from JKR/Pottermore, and some fans mentioning that the actor playing Draco in the play doesn't have a receding hairline inspired me to write that he had it fixed. :D

I put a different ending on a Brutus Malfoy quote I found in HP wiki. The alchemy info I picked up (and used creatively) from . All those alchemical writings Draco must have acquired and studied; he needed Lily to give him the encouragement to make the most of it (and life).