a/n: I'm ba-acckkk. I hope you are as excited as I am for Before We Turn to Stone, the final installment of the Eden Trilogy. But before we dive in, I want to say a few quick words. First, thank you everyone for all your support, it means everything to me. Please keep the reviews coming, they really do keep me motivated and also they make me so happy.

Second, if you want more insight into Ginny and Blaise's relationship, please read Like a Lonely House. Full disclosure, I meant to have it finished by the time I published this but then life happened and I didn't so I will be updating both in tandem.

Third, I'm dying to know what everyone got as their patronuses! Mine is a leopard. Let me know in your comments!

Fourth, as always, I am looking for new OCs. I can't promise I will feature everyones, but I always love suggestions. I already have two amazing ones from vampslover101 and WitchLove, but I'm always looking for more. See an outline for character making below. I'd love to get some Ilvermorny grads in the mix.

Finally, please get your tissues and be prepared to cry...a lot. and laugh. and gasp. and awe. and scream in frustration. and whoop in triumph. But then maybe cry more. My point is, this is wartime; lives will be lost. Please mentally prepare yourselves for that.

And now, without (any more) ado, I give you Before We Turn to Stone!


Before We Turn to Stone: Third (and final) installment of The Eden Trilogy


Chapter One: East of Eden

As they spun away from the Manor, from the massacre, from Lucius and Adrian, and their fallen enemies and friends, Leolin clung desperately to Draco, her face buried in his chest, trying to evade what felt like the only word left in her addled brain: war. For the second time in her life, Wizarding Britain was at war, and if Leolin had though she'd been afraid when Voldemort had risen to power, it was nothing compared to what she was feeling now. She'd been a child then; a spectator to the action, if even that. The last war, though brutal, had lasted only 131 days, beginning in with Voldemort's ascension in June and ending with his death in the now-infamous 11th of October.

Unlike Ginny and Draco and many of her other classmates, Leolin hadn't been allowed to return to Hogwarts that September, and she'd spent the majority of that time exiled in France by her parents, who'd been desperate to shield her from the carnage The guilt at not being at the castle that night and defending its liberty had always gnawed at her, especially considering what it had cost classmates like the Creevey brothers, and she'd assuaged it all these years by promising herself that if the call to fight ever sounded again, she'd be on the front line. She considered that promise as a flash of Adrian darted through her mind, his lip curled in a feral snarl as she napped his priceless wand in two.

She would more than get her wish.

They burst back into corporal form with a sickening crack, and Leolin stumbled away and immediately vomited. The bile burned her throat, which still ached from being choked so violently.

Draco's keen eyes were already scanning the darkened cobblestone street, but at the ugly sound of her wretches, he glanced back at her in concern.

"Are you alright?" he demanded softly as she wiped her mouth.

"Fine," she croaked.

He nodded, advancing and grabbing her gently by the crook of the elbow and tugging her into a shadow. They were back in the posh Wizarding enclave tucked behind Muggle Kensington, just down the street from Draco and Gen's flat. The street was alive with violent activity, and Draco pressed Leolin into a nearby wall, shielding her as a troupe of masked men tore by, laughing and screaming.

"Snatchers," Draco breathed in contempt.

"What are they doing here?" Leolin croaked. "This is a Pureblood neighborhood."

"Spot of looting, I imagine," Draco sneered grimly. "C'mon."

"Drake," Leolin begged. "We shouldn't be back here. They're still looking for us."

"We won't be here long enough for us to find us," Draco assured her, approaching his own flat door. It had been marked with a blood red x.

He kicked open the door, which was slightly ajar, and raised his wand. She drew hers as well.

The place had been torn to absolute shreds, and the wood floor of the open space was littered with shattered glass from bottles of expensive alcohol which had been half drunk then smashed. The art on the walls had to slashed and the furniture overturned, and sticky footprints were visible through the mess of spilled booze. Draco didn't seem to notice or care.

"Stay close to me," Draco said, casting a hominum revelio.

Nothing happened, and Draco immediately tore for the stairs.

"Rodames," he cried, wand still raised. Leolin followed him, wand still drawn.

"Rodames!" Draco repeated, voice a bit strangled now.

Leolin tried not to notice the fresh blood on the carpet, or imagine what Deatheaters would likely do to Draco's prized possession if they'd managed to find him.

Draco arched right towards his study; when no one was home, it was Rodames's favourite spot. Leolin headed left, towards Draco's bedroom. The floor was strewn with Gen's sinful undergarments, and the word "whore" had been burned into the carpet.

"Roddy?" Leolin croaked, licking her dry lips, the light from her wand flicking across the darkness as she cautiously pushed the door open. "Ou es-tu? Viens!"

As she preceded farther into the cavernous space, she felt her heart fall away from its severed strings and sizzle into the acid in her stomach, and if Adrian had left her enough voice to scream, she would have.

There was dark blood, so fresh it was still glistening wet, soaking the beige carpet, and in the centre of the room a dark figure lay immobile.

At this point she was too emotionally ravaged to cry, but her hands trembled. The only light besides her wand's reedy beam was the moonlight pouring from the skylights fifteen feet above her head, and they bathed the trembling mass in deathly blue rays.

She throw the light from her wand across them, realising with swelling and sickening relief that it was a human. She met Stan Shunpike's terrified gaze, eying the gaping wound at his neck, which had been torn open. The savage bite seemed to have missed the main artery, by the wound still oozed blood.

She followed the small trail, which lead under the bed. Gingerly she knelt, lip trembling as she spotted a trembling Rodames huddled as far back as the space allowed, muzzle stained crimson. He still had Shunpike's stubby pine wand clutched in his teeth, and he was crying softly.

"Drake!" Leolin screamed, voice barely rising above a strangled whisper as she straightened.

Draco burst into the room, the door slamming and locking behind him as she gestured to the bed and he collapsed to the floor.

Rodames began to whine, though he didn't move.

Draco looked relieved, and it was only then that he glanced back at Shunpike. The concern in his eyes quickly drained as he surveyed the pitiful man. Leolin knew what he was going to do before he did it, and she was surprised to find she had no desire to stop him.

Draco stood over him, surveying him with fury. Leolin could tell that Shunpike knew too. Draco raised his wand.

"Avada Kadavra."

Shunpike's trembling ceased as the light faded from his glassy eyes. Draco stepped over his corpse as if he was no more than a fallen lamp before carefully kneeling back down next to the bed.

"Rodames," he urged gently. "Viens."

Rodames only whimpered, and Draco patted the carpet softly. Behind him, Leolin tried not to disolve back into panic. They'd undoubtedly lingered too long, and one of Adrian's crew was surely on their way around. Or perhaps Adrian himself, come back to finish the dance they'd started earlier. Leolin shuddered at the thought.

"Je suis ici," Draco was assuring Rodames. "Tout va bien, mon pote."

Rodames slowly began inching forward, drawn to Draco's soothing voice.

"It's okay," Draco told him again. "Viens a moi."

Rodames wiggled free at last, launching into Draco's arms. Leolin let out a shuddering gasp of relief as Draco took the gnarled wand from Rodames's teeth.

"Tout va bien. Je suis ici."

Just then there was a pounding on the door.

"Drake," Leolin croaked.

One arm still wrapped around the dog, Draco cast a small box into the air, and it sprang to a phone box.

"Bombarda!" the intruder hissed, and the door splintered. Leolin screamed as Tate Rawle peered into the hole he'd made in the door, snarling.

"Get in!" Draco told Leolin, and she dove inside as Tate blew the door completely apart.

Draco flew in after her.

"Rodames!" he screamed desperately to the petrified Rodames. "Viens!"

Tate fired a curse which richeted off the box, denting the side.

"Roddy!" Draco begged, but Rodames stood frozen with fear, the retrieved wand back in his mouth.

"Accio!" Leolin screamed as Tate advanced, and the petrified Rodames flew towards them, yelping and vainly scrambling mid-air. The minute he'd reached Draco's outstretched arms the door slammed shut immediately, and another of Tate's cursed pelted the side, even as the box began to rise.

It rocketed upwards, blasting through the ceiling. It smashed into a heavy supporting beam with a deafening boom, shattering the glass of the skylight. The joist which served as the ceiling's spine splintered violently on impact.

Leolin heard Tate's alarmed cry as the beam thundered to the ground, but the sound grew immediately distant as the soared into the starry night.

After a minute the box seemed to steady itself, and Leolin gave an exhale, glancing up at Draco finally.

He immediately bent to kiss her, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulder.

"We made it," she breathed, a tears slipping down her cheek as she laid her head on his strong chest. She could feel his heart hammering in her ear.

"Thank Merlin," he said, stroking her head and tipping his head back on the wall in relief. "If I'd lost you tonig—"

"Never," she promised.

It was then that her floo began to smoke, and she fearfully clicked it open. It was from Felix, and she gave a small sob of relief.

Ministry's fallen, but Effie and I made it out.

"Who is it?" Draco asked, head still tipped back against the wall with eyes closed.

"Felix," she answered.

Stay Safe, she wrote back. I'll floo you in a few days when things have settled down.

"What's he saying?" Draco asked in soft voice.

"Nothing we didn't already know. The Ministry fell. He's safe, though."

"That's good news," Draco murmured, and for once she could detect no sarcasm in his voice.

They fell silent a moment, the wind swishing soothingly outside. Wherever they were going, they were making excellent time. She thought momentarily to ask, but she realised after a second she didn't care.

"How long?" she murmured.

"A couple hours," he promised, running a soothing hand through her hair. "Sleep. I'll wake you up when we get there."

Her eyes fluttered closed as soon as he suggested it, and she eased down to lay her head in his lap. What felt like only minutes later he was shaking her awake gently.

"Cal," he whispered softly. "Wake up. We're here."

The box touched gently down, the doors sliding gracefully open. Draco tugged Leolin gently to her feet as Rodames stirred, bounding contentedly out with his makeshift bone still clutching protectively in his teeth.

Leolin stepped gingerly out onto the soft white sand of a deserted beach, which faded into lapping azure water fifty or so yards off. It's brilliant colour was undiminished by the lack of sunlight. The full moon was almost directly overhead; it must have been midnight.

"Where are we?" she asked, accepting his proffered hand as she tugged off trainers and socks and wiggled her toes through the silky sand.

"Mallorca," he said. "Do you want to go for a swim?"

She shook her head. It was just hitting her that there was nothing keeping them apart anymore, and she wanted nothing more to be naked and in his arms. There was no world to save here, no Adrian on their tail. No Gen, no baby—Merlin, she'd yet to even process there never really had been—and no gag. Nothing.

Her love for Draco immediately rushed into all the cracks the last five years had created, and she turned and immediately began tugging at his battered tux.

"I love you," she whispered as he bent to kiss her.

She rose onto tiptoes to deepen it, and she slid her tongue into his mouth as he lifted her gently off her feet.

"You too," he said huskily, hoisting her more fully into his arms as she ran her fingers through his silky hair. "And I'm going to fuck you until the sun comes up."

In response she kissed him again, more hungrily this time. He grabbed her arse and pushed her hips against his even as he began carrying her to the small but luxurious cedar and glass cabin several feet off.

He marched them up the gangplank and into the bedroom, whose french doors opened directly onto a balcony which jutted gracefully over the water.

He opened them with a soft flick of his wrist, and a soft breeze blew in, rippling the sheer curtains.

He set her down and immediately heeled out of his dress shoes and socks. She reached to pull her shirt off, but Draco tugged her hands away so he could do it himself. He pushed his palms under the hem as he kissed her heatedly again.

"Merlin you are beautiful," he breathed raggedly, finally pulling it over her head. "I can't believe you're all mine."

"Forever," she promised, grinding against him softly. He was already hard.

He bent to feast on her neck , but it was still incredibly tender, and se gave a soft yelp of surprise when his lips ghosted over the contused skin.

"I'm sorry," he said at once, almost leaping back. "I didn't mean—are you alright?"

"Fine," she assured him in her strained voice. "It's just tender."

"We don't have to—" he paused, running a hand through his hair. She could still see the obvious bulge in his trousers. "—tonight," he finished.

"No," she said firmly, stepping forward to stroke his chest. "I want to."

"It's been a long day," he countered softly. "We can just go to bed."

She let the hand drop.

"Is this how it's going to be?" she asked in a small voice. Suddenly it felt like they were no longer alone. She could feel Adrian's spectre watching her, and she fought off a shudder. She could tell Draco was thinking the same.

"What do you mean?" he replied.

"Please Drake," Leolin pleased. "I can't bear for you to look at me like that, like I'm some broken thing."

"I'm not," he defended.

"Yes you are," she pressed. "But you don't have to worry about me. I'm tough."

She reached forward, easing his battered dinner jacket off his lithe shoulders and giving him a smouldering look. She could hear his breath catch slightly as she rose to her tip toes again, pressing a hot, open mouthed kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"I'm fine," she breathed. "More that fine, in fact. I'm about to shag the man I love."

She deftly worked the buttons of his dress shirt, letting it flutter to the floor. Then, starting at his neck, she began kissing her way down his toned chest and stomach, eventually kneeling as she tugged his belt undone.

She grazed his hipbone with her teeth, and he groaned and bucked against her waiting mouth. She unzipped his trousers, freeing his impressive erection.

"Oh gods," he pleaded, tangling his hand in her hair as she laved the tip. It was so silky. She hadn't had a chance to admire it the night before, and she'd forgotten how—beautiful it was. She traced a hand down his length and he shuddered in delight.

Wasting no time, she wrapped her fingers around his trim hips, urging him to trust. He found a rhythm easily, groaning again as he rolled his pelvis.

"I forgot how incredible you look with your lips around my cock," he panted huskily, and she laughed in response, the vibrations sending another shudder up his spine.

"Do that again and I'm going to lose it," he warned, and she did, massaging his heavy, perfectly hemispherical stones. She felt them tightening to his body as he released down her throat.

"Fuck woman," he hissed and she rose to her feet and kissed him.

"Get on the bed," he growled softly against her lips, tugging at them with pearly teeth. "Now."

He watched her with hooded eyes as she peeled her black trousers down her toned legs, followed by her knickers. She turned to face the large, luxurious bed, and she felt him push up behind her as he urged her forward.

"Bend over," he commanded, pushing her hands onto the mattress before slapping her arse soundly.

He then knelt, spreading the two globes and laving her deliberately. It had been ages since she'd been touched like that, and she mewed quietly.

"There's no one here but us," he reminded her, tonguing her tight hole again. "Go ahead and scream."

"Draco," she whined as he continued to use his right hand to keep her cheeks spread as he used his left hand to massage her clit. He'd always been an excellent multi-tasker. She began to feel woozy with pleasure, but suddenly he stopped.

"On you back," he demanded, spanking her again.

She obliged, and he crawled on top of her, spreading her arms. Keeping her wrists pinned, he muttered a quick spell, and they were immediately glued to the mattress. He parted her legs and did the same to her ankles, and she gave a throaty laugh.

"What are you doing?" she asked huskily.

"Keeping you from interrupting me," he replied in the same tone, kissing is way down to her slick centre. He then set to work, tongue flicking her clit before working in and out of her. He blew on her glistening slit and she shuddered. She was a hair's breath from orgasm when he hesitated, pulling her back slightly. Still, she was dangerously close to the edge.

"Do you have any idea how good you taste?" he asked, almost letting her fall again before stopping her at the very last moment. "If I could only eat one thing for the rest of my life, it would be your sweet little cunt."

"Oh gods," she pleaded as he set back to his task. However, as she approached the edge a third time, he gave her a hearty shove instead, and she screamed as she fell.

The edging had built up a powerful orgasm, and it rocked her body so violently she almost felt dazed.

"Hmm," Draco purred arrogantly, pressing a kiss to her opening, which continued to throb.

"I think that was the best orgasm I've ever had," she breathed honestly, and he surged up to kiss her. His tongue tasted like ripened blackberries. She expect him to slide inside of her, she was more than ready for him, but he didn't. Instead he slithered back to her open thighs and began eating her out again. As before, he brought her to the brink several times before sending her over.

As the seismic orgasm washed over her, she felt a wild, titanic feeling engulf her, and she burst into half sobs.

"Leolin," Draco demanded, releasing her arms so she could drive her hands into his hair. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" she sobbed, beaming.

He gave a small laugh.

"Then why are you crying?"

"Because I love you," she explained. "And I finally have you back. And because I'm so bloody turned on right now."

She reached down to stroke his length.

"I need you inside of me," she demanded. "I need to feel you."

He nodded, and she gripped his shoulder and arched her back.

"Fuck," he groaned. "You feel so good. I swear I'm already close."

"Ride me," she said hoarsely in response. "Hard."

He acquiesced, gripping the headboard for leverage and slamming into her. She could feel his orchids slapping against her arse, and they were slick from her. He was wearing his falcon medallion, and watching it swing made her want to cry again.

He leaned back a little so he could watch himself sliding in and out of her, and she ran her left hand up his glistening chest. He caught her wrist and kissed her palm.

"I can't wait to finally marry you," he panted. "I love you."

She sat up so she was nestled in his lap, riding him.

"Until the sun rises in the West," she promised, and he kissed her, still pumping.

"And the mountain blow in the wind like leaves," he finished. "And even after. I promise to never stop."

She clenched deliberately around him as he said it even as she increased her speed and he cried out.

"Fuck," he whined. "I can't hold on anymore."

"Then let go," she urged, bending to kiss him softly.

He did as she commanded, and she felt a wave of calm wash over him as the orgasm took over.

"I love you," he breathed as she kissed him again.

She purred her ascent as she curled at his side. By this time the sun was beginning to rise, and they watched in silence as the searing dawn peeled away the remaining shreds of night. Leolin thought about what Felix had told her in what had likely been her most desperate hour. The night was always darkest before the dawn. As she watched the new day rise, cheek to Draco's chest as she listened to his heart beat, she realised that he's been right.

"What are you thinking about?" Draco murmured in a soft voice, stroking her hair.

"That I've finally made it home," she whispered, voice tight again. "That for the first time since our wedding day, I feel...safe."

"You have nothing more to fear," he assured her softly. "I'm here now, and I'm never leaving."


When Leolin awoke mid-morning, it was to find she was alone; Draco was gone. Her stomach clenched and her mouth immediately began to water.

"Drake?" She called exploratorily. Her throat still ached, and her voice was still extremely hoarse, though less so that it had been the night before.

There was no response, and she stumbled out of bed, heart squeezing into her larynx, making her slightly breathless.

"Draco!"

She tripped into her forgotten bra and knickers, fighting down hysteria. How had Lucius found them so quickly, and why hadn't they taken her, too?

She frantically ripped open the pocket door to the small of luxurious washroom, calling his name again. She stumbled out onto the sun-soaked deck, eyes fruitlessly searching the empty azure waves.

"Draco!" she begged again, willing herself not to cry. Now was not the time for hysterics.

Suddenly she felt a hand wrap around her ankle, and she screamed. However, a second later Draco's head emerged from the water, and he was laughing.

"Malefiscent," she practically whined, jerking her foot away from him and driving the heels of her hands into her eyes to keep any excess liquid from leaking out. She was still raw from the Manor ambush, and she felt foolish that she'd been so quick to panic.

"Hey," Draco said, reading her distress and elegantly leaping up onto the deck before folding her into his arms, resting his cheek against her temple.

"I'm sorry, darling," he assured her. "I didn't mean to upset you."

His skin was warm.

"Didn't you hear me calling you?" she muttered sheepishly, settling against him more fully.

"I was farther out," he explained, water dripping from his eyelashes and into her hair.

"I woke up and you weren't there…" she trailed off.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I just fancied a swim. Come join me."

He began gently tugging her towards the deck's edge, but she jerked away.

"No," she said firmly. "We need to get going."

"Cal—"

"Our friends need us, Drake," she said in a stern voice. "We're not abandoning them."

She turned back to the bedroom , but Draco was able to deftly slide in front of her, and he grabbed her shoulders.

"No one said anything about abandonment, but the Ministry's already fallen; we're can't undo that fact by rushing back to London this second. Besides, that's exactly what my father is expecting us to do, and he's going to be waiting to spring the trap. And think about it: if he's busy looking for us, it will take some of the pressure off the others."

"It doesn't matter!" she demanded. "We need to regroup and starting forming a plan."

"And we will," he assured her. "But I think you and I've earned a small reprieve."

She bit her lip. She couldn't deny the temptation. However, she brushed off his touch as he reached for her.

"Ginny and Blaise—" she began defiantly, but he cut her off.

"—know we're here. In fact, this was Ginny's idea."

He grabbed her by the wrist as she tried to retreat again.

"Cal," he breathed, voice uncharacteristically devoid of its usual authority. "Please. I just got you back after six of the darkest years of my life. Can't I have a week or two to enjoy you before the madness starts again?"

"We can't afford it," she reasoned softly, and he shook his head.

"You're wrong," he said, voice growing less patient and more desperate. "If anything, we can't afford not to do it. We have no idea when we'll get another chance like this." His eyes grew sad as his voice descended into a pleading whisper. "In fact, we might never."

"Don't say that," she demanded. "Don't even think it."

She tried a third time to brush him off but he cut her off and caged her to the doorframe.

"If we're going to survive this war, we need to take joy where we can get it. It's the only way."

"Drake," she protested weakly, but he silenced her with a kiss.

"One week," he said, forehead pressed to her. "That's all I ask."

"Three days," she countered, and he clenched his jaw as his forehead wrinkled. Finally, though he nodded.

"Three days," he agreed. "But no strategy talk, no battle plans, and no fretting. If I only get 72 hours, I expect them to count."

He put a finger gently under her chin so she was forced to look at him.

"Agreed?" he said, sounding more his authoritative self.

"Yes," she promised, leaning in to kiss him.

"Good girl," he breathed, making her smile. "Now come take a swim with me. The water feels amazing."

"I need to change into my suit," she protested as he easily urged her towards the water's edge.

"No you don't," he countered huskily. "Just swim in this. Or better yet," he said, reaching around to palm her arse."Let's get you naked."

She laughed. It had been over half a decade since they'd been able to flirt this freely. It felt incredible.

"You first," she purred, pressing into him.

"Challenged accepted," he said, grinding against him as he reached around to unclasp a bra.

He hands fell to the button of his swim trousers. She undid them and slipped her hand in to stroke his length.

"Easy, darling," he growled. "Or I'm going fuck you on this deck."

"You're right," she said, retracting her hand and smirking sinfully. "Let's cool you off."

"Lefevre," he warned, don't you dare—"

It was too late; she gave her chest a hardy shove,and he toppled ungracefully backwards into the water.

She laughed as he emerged sputtering, stripping off her knickers and evading his attempt to tug her in as well by diving gracefully off the edge. It was pleasantly warm and impossibly clear, and it felt good.

Her generous leap had given her a decent head-start, but Draco had longer legs and a greater wingspan, and he caught up to her easily.

"You're gonna pay for that," he warned as they squared off.

"Oh yeah?" she challenged playfully, splashing him.

"Yes," he promised, grabbing her around the waist. "Come here."

She acquiesced to his touch, wrapping her legs around his waist as he kissed her.

The smile on his face slowly faded as they gazed at each other, and she felt a flush creeping up her cheeks.

"What?" she asked softly. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Even now she couldn't keep out the fear that he'd see her damage and pull away.

"You're so beautiful," he breathed.

"Oh," she said a bit sheepishly. "I thought it was something serious."

"It is," he clarified. "You're so perfect, I almost can't stand it. I don't think you'll ever even know how honoured I am that you chose me."

"I know," she assured him. "And you're pretty beautiful yourself. Personality isn't terrible, either. A solid six out of ten, I'd say."

At this he laughed heartily, readjusting his grip on her.

"Is that all I am to you?" he asked saucily. "A pretty face?"

"A pretty face," she agreed. "And a beautiful pen—"

"Leolin Marie-Therese!" he laughed. "Do you kiss your mother with that fucking mouth?"

"I do lots of things with it," she replied. "Should I show you?"

"You're killing me woman," he groaned good-naturedly as she ground against him slightly.

"Has it sunk in yet?" she asked, readjusting her position.

"What's that?" he replied.

"We get to see each other everyday," she said, rubbing her nose to his. "Wake up together, fall asleep together, shag whenever we want."

"No," he admitted more earnestly, leaning up to kiss her. "I'm still afraid this is all a dream, and any second I'll wake up."

In response, she nipped at his lower lip, and he yelped in pain and surprise, though it quickly faded into a laugh.

"What was that for?" he demanded, smirking as she nuzzled his nose again.

"So you know you're not dreaming," she explained.

He smiled wryly.

"I love you," he said. "You impossible thing."

"Good, because I'm afraid you're stuck with me," she said, scratching the nape of his neck affectionately with her long nails.

"No more than you are with me," he replied, humming contentedly at the sensation.

"Forever," she agreed. "For real this time."

"Forever," he promised. "In this life, or the next."

She nodded, not quite about to acknowledge his words by repeating them. After everything they'd suffered together, the idea of being permanently separated was unbearable.

"So," he said," breaking her reverie by readjusting his grip underneath her arse. "You were saying something about your mouth and all the things it can do? I'd like to revisit that..."

She smiled as he walked them backwards through the shallow water towards the deck.

"If my throat wasn't sore, I'd sing you an aria or something."

He laughed, but it faded midway into a groan as she swirled her hips.

"Leolin, I love you," he practically panted. "But even I couldn't listen to that."

She laughed because it was true; she had a fairly horrendous singing voice. Thinking of Gen and her angelic one, she suddenly felt a little pained. However, she had precious time to contemplate it, because Draco had spun them, and he was urging her back up onto the deck. When she settled comfortably atop it, he tugged her hips forward and began worshipping her with his tongue.

"Gods," she whined. "I'm already close."

"Beg me for it and I'll give it to you," he breathed, pausing momentarily.

"Draco," she begged, but he laughed.

"Is that the best you can do? Pathetic."

"Drake," she repeated. "Don't stop."

"Don't stop what?" he goaded, laving her once before pausing again.

"Fuck me with that talented tongue," she panted.

"Yes ma'am," he said mirthfully, pulling her undone in two more strokes.

She collapsed onto her back, feet stilling dangling in the water and he leapt up gracefully and settled between her splayed thighs.

"Shall we move to a more comfortable location?" he teased, tugging at a rosy nipple with his teeth.

"Yes," she breathed. "But quickly. I need you inside of me."

He obliged, and mere minutes later they lay in a sweaty, satisfied nest of blankets and limbs.

"Sunk in yet?" she asked, heart still pounding from the exertion.

He chuckled.

"I will likely never get used to how good you feel."

"No one likes a kiss-arse," she laughed, rolling sideways to press to his side.

The depth of his laugh vibrated pleasantly through her cheek.

"You certainly did last night," he said smugly.

She laughed now, too.

"Draco!"

"I assure you I'm not exaggerating," he replied. "I wish we could switch bodies and I could show you."

"Kinky," she laughed.

She found her eyelids growing heavy again. She supposed four hours of sleep followed by vigorous sex hadn't been enough to sate her exhaustion.

Rodames padded into the room, and seeing their contented cuccoon, he leapt onto the bed and settled on the edge. Leolin reached a lazy foot out to pet him even as she she began to drift off again. She heard Draco's breathing even out as the words of a poem whose name she'd long forgotten served as silent lullaby.

You can cut all the flowers, but you cannot keep Spring from coming


They slept nearly all day, and by the time she woke, it was it find the sun was dusking the horizon.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," Draco said, emerging from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

She smiled lazily, sitting up.

"I'm surprised you know who or what that is," she laughed.

"Oh, I have no idea," he laughed. "But it seemed fitting."

"Indeed," she said, running a hand through her hair. "What time is it?"

"Around dinnertime, I'd say. Get up and jump in the shower. I'm bloody starving."

She realised as he said it that she was, too. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd eaten.

"I have the perfect spot" he said, tugging the towel off to dry his hair.

She bit her lip.

"Is that safe?" she asked.

"There isn't a Magical town within a hundred miles of this island," he assured her. "So unless Adrian suddenly has enough boots on the ground to search every square inch of the globe, we'll be fine."

She tucked her knees protectively to her chest, and he sank back down on the bed.

"You know if I thought there was even a chance I'd be putting you in harm's way, I wouldn't do it. Do you trust me?"

"Of course," she murmured. "I just—"

"No," he said, tucking some hair behind her ear "None of that. We had a deal."

She nodded.

"You're right."

He smiled wryly.

"Always am, remember? Now c'mon, get showered. I know I said I only ever wanted to dine on you, but a nice filet feels like a pretty good second place option."

She laughed, rising from the bed. As she did, Rodames awoke, and he dutifully padded after her and into the bathroom, settling back onto the slate floor as she turned on the taps. She sighed as the water washed over her, humming contentedly. When she finally emerged, she found a dress hanging on the back of the bathroom door. It was red and slinky—everything that made Draco's knees week—and she smiled. No one could ever accuse Draco of being a man who didn't know what he wanted, or one who wasn't willing to give up everything to get it.

She slipped into the dress and glanced into the mirror, vainly fluffing her hair as turned her head from side to side to admire herself. The light—or perhaps the bright shade of her dress—seemed to amplify the redness in her neck, she could already see finger-shaped bruises forming. They were still faint, but she was sure they would be violet by the morning.

She bit her lip and flushed, leaning back at once and arranging her hair to minimize their appearance. That wasn't something she wanted to deal with at the moment, either physically or emotionally.

"C'mon!" Draco called from the bedroom. "I'm about to eat the dog!"

She laughed, emerging and trying to leave what she'd seen back in the washroom. She didn't intend to waste a perfectly good evening fretting about Adrian. He couldn't touch her here. Draco was standing with his back to her, but he turned at hearing the door click open.

"Finally," he said in mock exasperation, though his tone faded to wonder as he drank her in more fully. "Though, as always, well worth the wait."

"Don't be obsequious," she laughed.

"Me?" he said, looping an arm around her waist to pull her against him. "Never. Are you ready?"

She wiggled tighter against him.

"For dinner, or..."

"Dinner, you salacious wench!" he said, smirking. "Honestly, have you no sense of propriety?"

She laughed.

"Very little, since I met you."

The smirk widened.

"I don't know whether I should be flattered or insulted," he murmured,leaning down to kiss her.

"Dealer's choice," she breathed against his lips, sending a deep chuckle rumbling through his chest.

"Let's get out of here before I change my mind," he laughed.

She nodded and squeezed her eyes shut, bending into his as she felt the inevitable squeeze of apparation. When she opened them again, it was to find they'd arrived in a narrow stone alleyway just a few feet off out a small plaza. He looped a casual arm around her before consulting his watch.

"I'm not keeping you from anything, am I?" she joked, and he smiled and showed her the face, which had been enchanted to show a small map of old town Alcúdia in on the Northern end of the island.

"This way," he prompted, leading her down the widening cobblestones to a small bistro. He ushered her through the threshold of the cozy space, at which point a young server ushered them to a secluded patio with a table already set for two. There was a bottle of wine already waiting.

Leolin smiled at him as he genteelly pulled her chair out of her before settling across from her.

"Wine?" Draco offered congenially, already pouring her a healthy glass.

"Leolin," she replied glibly in response. "Nice to meet you."

He laughed, eyes and teeth glittering.

"Enchanted." He raised his glass to her. "Salud, my angel."

"And confusion—" she began, but her cut her off.

"Ah, ah," he warned playfully. "None of that, remember?"

"How about this, then?" she offered, leaning in. "To moderation in all things—except in love."

"And drinking," he offered, still eying her appreciatively.

"Of course," she laughed, touching her glass to his. "That was implied."

"And to us," he replied. "May the best of our todays be the worst of our tomorrows."

"Here, here," she breathed, tears shining in her eyes. "I love you, Draco Malfoy."

"And I you," he promised.

She leaned across the table, threading a hand into his hair to give him a sensuous kiss. When she'd settled back in her seat, they both took a drink.

"What do you think?" she asked, taking another.

He swirled the garnet liquid in his glass.

"Plum," he said finally. "And berries. But then also tobacco and leather. Tempranillo, I think. From Binissalem."

"You got all that from a taste?" she demanded.

He laughed.

"Of course not. I had this bottle picked out ahead of time. It's supposed to be amazing with Catalan cod."

"A red with fish?" she questioned.

"It's served with raisins and pine nuts," he explained knowleably. "Don't worry; I cleared it with the sommelier beforehand."

"Always five steps ahead," she said appreciatively.

"Endeavour to be," he said, taking another sip as the waiter brought hearty, fresh-baked bread with a sweet, vingaery dipping sauce.

She reached across the table to stroke his cheek. He hadn't shaved since the previous morning, and his velvety skin was lightly textured with stubble. In all the many years she'd known him, she'd never seen him with more than a few days growth. He was, rather predictably, distainful of facial hair. She realised with a smile that she now had a lifetime to catch him at it.

"So," she began after a moment. "What should we talk about, since our usual doom and gloom is off limits."

He chuckled.

"I have something," he said earnestly, smiling at her.

"I'm all ears," she offered.

"How about children?" he ventured, keenly studying her reaction.

Immediately her stomach dropped, and she reflexively attempted to tug her hand from beneath his. However, he held it there instead.

"Drake—" she began, but he shook his head.

"Please," he said softly. "Don't shut me out. Let's discuss this."

"There's nothing to discuss," she said somewhat flatly. "I'm barren."

"You're sure?" he probed gently.

She looked down as her cheeks floodly with dark shame. She found she couldn't meet his eye. She nodded sheepishly instead.

"You've been to see the healer?"

Again, she gave a wordless nod.

"Langdon Blackburn; I trust him."

"And what did he tell you, exactly?"

She shook her head, surprised to feel a slight wetness on her cheeks.

"Don't cry," he begged, watching her keenly.

"How can I not?" she asked in a soft, broken voice. "When I'm sitting here keeping you from the thing you want most in this world?"

"You're not," he assured her emphatically. "Not unless..." he trailed off, and she watched a hideous sadness welling in his eyes.

She couldn't have previously imagined there was anything more painful that Lucius and Adrian they could discuss.

"Unless I what?"

"Are you—" he began again, seeming almost nervous now. "Do you still want them?"

She considered this, and him. It wasn't a question she'd let herself fully answer since the attack, mostly because of its painful implications to Draco and the gag. But now, sitting a mere arm's length from him, she finally let herself.

"Yes," she whispered earnestly, swiping at a tear. "Of course I do."

Relief washed over his face, and he smiled, reaching over to squeeze her hand.

"Then the rest is just logistics. We have options."

"I don't know if—" she paused, still feeling wildly uncomfortable. "Langdon said my egg count is very low. He never mentioned harvesting them, so I assume that means—"

In truth, he'd done just the opposite. She thought about the pills he'd given her, and suddenly she was relieved she'd never taken them. Still, she couldn't quite bring herself to tell Draco about them, either.

"Let's not assume anything yet," Draco offered, breaking her reverie. "We'll make an appointment with him as soon as we get back. At this point, knowledge is only power, no matter what it might yield."

"What if surrogacy isn't an option?"

"Then we'll adopt," he said calmly, and she could tell her meant it.

"Drake," she began, sighing. "Is this really a good time to be talking about this?"

"What do you mean?" he demanded, tone sharper than she was sure he'd meant it to be.

"I mean, is now really a good time to be thinking about having a baby? I don't know if you've notice, but there's a war on."

"All the more reason," he said. "And we'd be in good company. Gin's due in a few months, Grace's just had Graham, and Granger is no doubt preparing to shoot a Weasley spawn out of her baby-making cannon—"

"That horrifying and grossly inaccurate metaphor aside," she interrupted firmly. "Our situation is different and you know it. It was one thing for Ginny to be pregnant right now. You and me deciding to adopt is another. There's not going to be any happy accidents for us; we're gong to have to make a conscious decision that extends beyond just us two, and in that sense, the timing could not be worse."

"I don't care," he said stubbornly.

"Well you should," she shot back. "This is serious."

"And so am I! Leolin," he took her hand. "There is no such thing as an ideal time to have a baby. Besides, we have no idea what the future holds. If you're not ready to be a mum then fine, we'll wait. But if you're just waiting for things to go back to 'normal', I'm begging you to reconsider."

The truth in what he was saying struck her in the chest, making her throat constrict.

"I know you're scared. So am I. But if being away from you taught me anything, it's that we have to seize the moments we have. They're sacred, and we have no guarantee on how many we'll get."

"Don't say that," she demanded.

"It's the truth."

"You're not going to die for another hundred years," she said firmly. "I won't let you. Even if I have to march back to Tartarus and get those sodding coins back from Charon."

He smiled faintly.

"Not sure that deal's still on the table, my angel."

"Don't be glib," she sneered.

"I'm not," he assured her. "But we're not going to gamble with our future. It's too precious."

The conversation was subsumed by an artic silence as the insinuation swirled around them like a blustery wind. The truth of their predicament continued to lurk below the surface, waiting for a moment to strike.

It was Leolin who ultimately broke the silence.

"Okay," she said quietly.

"Okay?" he echoed, confused and still slightly defensive.

"Okay," she said more firmly. "Let's see Langdon and find out what can be done."

"I don't want to push you," he said, the hope in his eyes carefully tamped down by a sincere expression of concern. "If you're truly not ready—"

"I'm not," she admitted. "I probably won't be ready until we're actually parents. But you're right; now isn't the time for waiting or regrets."

The hope sprang more freely into his features, and his eye and teeth both glittered as he touched her cheek.

"Come again?" he said mirthfully, still stroking her cheek. "I'm right? I must not be hearing you correctly."

"Shut up," she laughed, playfully slapping his hand away.

"Because it certainly sounded like you said that I was right!"

She laughed, surprised at how light she felt.

"Don't get used to it," she warned, and he raised his eyebrows, taking another sip of wine.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he assured her.

They lapsed into comfortable silence after that, and Leolin studied Draco, Finally, she spoke again, though much of the mirth had bled from her tone.

"I'm sorry," she said in a soft voice.

He frowned in confusion.

"For what?"

"Gen," she said. "And the baby. I know that couldn't have been easy for you."

He took a large swallow wine to hide a grimace.

"We don't have to talk about this. No business, remember?"

"This isn't business," she said gently. "I never want you to feel like you have to keep things from me. Any burden you have is ours to share."

He considered this proposal, clenched and unclenching his jaw several times. Finally, he acquiesced by sighing.

"Mostly I feel—" he began, running and elegant index finger around the rim of his glass. "Relieved. The baby was this piece of the puzzle that felt impossible to reconcile, and the idea of choosing between you and it was tearing me apart."

"I know," she said sympathetically.

"But I also feel violated," he grit out, looking down into his glass and trying to control his expression. "It's hard to accept that Gen would do that to me. And not just me, but to Brankovitch, and the cause we said we both believed in..." He trailed off, still looking down. "Which also makes me feel guilty," he finally admitted in a quiet voice. "Because I allowed it to go on for far too long, and in doing so I put Brank and Sharpe and you in danger by ignoring my instincts. Deep down, I knew Gen was capable of doing something like this."

"You chose to see the good in her," Leolin reassured him, grabbing his wrist. "There's no shame in that, Drake."

"It's not just that," he admitted. "I—I was so terrible unfair to her. I knew the minute I saw you coming down the stairs at the Manor that things with her would never be enough for me anymore, but I still strung her along for over a year out of jealousy and pride. If I'd told her the truth that night, we wouldn't be in this situation."

"You don't know that," Leolin urged, grabbing his chine. "And what she did—that isn't on you."

"How can you say that?" he croaked.

She frowned in sympathy.

"Because it's true. No one blames you for her treachery; least of all, me."

"You should. I created her," he insisted quietly. "I pushed her to the breaking point."

"No," she insisted. "And you beating yourself up for it doesn't do anyone any good. Please, forgive yourself. For my sake, if not your own."

He nodded, clenching his jaw. Despite his silent gesture of acceptance, she knew this was unlikely the last she'd hear of it. Still, she could tell he was on the verge of retreating into some tragic pit of self-loathing, and she felt a renewed determination to save him from further pain.

"Let's just focus on the future," she urged. "On kids of our own."

He gave a crooked smile.

"What do you suppose they'll be like?" he asked.

"Troublesome, if they're anything like their father."

"Me?" he laughed quietly, mood lightening. "What about their mother, international art thief extraordinaire?"

"Ex-art thief," she corrected.

"And devious Serpent Queen," he said, smirking. "A woman unafraid to practice quidditch in lingerie or make a person sick at the sound of their own voice. I'm still not completely over that, by the way. Ask my therapist."

"Well you gave me a love potion!" she pointed out.

"Yeah," he laughed. "That I got out of a spellbook! Not that I invented!"

She smiled in response to his renewed joviality.

"So are kids are gonna be devious," she conceded. "So what? There are worse things to be, like stupid."

"Or Hufflepuffs," Draco added, smirking arrogantly.

"Or that," she admitted. "But I wouldn't worry to much on that score. The Slytherin throne is their birthright."

"It makes my heart sing to hear you finally admit that," he said, smirking widening to a glittering beam.

She studied his flawless bone structure as he continued to smile, imagining what it would look like on a younger face, or a female one.

"If I can't—" she blurted. "I think we should consider an egg donor."

"What?" he asked, bewildered.

"Just because I can't conceive a child doesn't mean you shouldn't."

"Does it not?" he asked quietly, bowing his head.

Again, Leolin was having trouble reading his storm expression; she supposed she was somewhat out of practice.

"What do you mean?" she probed gently.

"Maybe this is fate's way of extinguishing a tainted bloodline. I doubt the world really needs more Malfoys, In fact, it's probably better off with less of us."

"That's not true," she assured him. "Besides..." she trailed off, biting her lip.

"What?" he demanded, growing increasingly distraught.

"You're no longer Lucius's sole heir. If Fate was really trying to end his bloodline, it didn't try very hard."

"Lucia," Draco breathed, running a distressed hand through his hair as she brow screwed up in pain. "I completely forgot about her and Regine. You don't think my father—"

Leolin shook her head.

"Lucius could easily have prevented Regine from getting pregnant, or forced her to terminate, but he didn't. That means he wanted her to have this baby. It also means she's safe for now."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" he pleaded in a hollow voice. "What he has planned could be worse than death."

"Hey," Leolin interrupted. "I'm sorry I brought it up. Let's not talk about this tonight."

"But you're right," he said. "He had Lucia for a reason, and if he does anything to her, that's on me."

"No," Leolin insisted. "It's not."

"Yes, it is. What he really wants is me, and while I was playing cat and mouse with him, he found another way to get what he wanted."

"Drake," Leolin sighed. "You're not Atlas; the whole world isn't yours to bear alone. And if you honestly think you could have predicted your father was going to coerce the Lord of the Dead to make him a demi-god, then you're mad. As for stopping him," she paused. "We all know whose fault that really was. I'm the one who lost the coins to Adrian. If there's anyone you should be blaming for this mess, it's me."

"I could never blame you," he said earnestly.

"Then stop blaming yourself." She implored. "Because we're one now. That's what it means to love someone, darling. You're never alone."

He bowed his head, nodding. The conversation had grown more grave than she was sure either of them had intended, but Leolin found it oddly cathartic. The pain of it, the rawness, seemed to assure her that it was real, and she hadn't stumbled into another daydream that she would soon wake up from. Besides, she'd meant what she said; after five years of bears her burdens—her failures and her fears—alone, it was comforting to have someone by her side again.

"I love you," she whispered, touching his cheek and drawing him from a dark reverie. "I always have, and I always will."

"I never meant to drag you into any of this," he assured her. "Please know that."

"I do," she agreed. "But you were right all those years ago. I was always going to be my mother's daughter, and as such I was always going to have a target on my back. Besides, I would trade you for anything."

"You honour me," he said in a genteel voice. "And thank you. I—I needed to hear you say that."

"It's easy to say," she assured him. "Because it's true. I love you, you impossible creature."

He gave his second dazzling smile of the evening.

"Now," she said definitively. "Let's talk about something else."

"Agreed. Let's talk about this," Draco said, taking her hand and dragging it between them to the centre of the table. "I think it's about time I made an honest woman out of you; when are we getting married?"

"Soon," she affirmed simply.

"Okay," he laughed. "Somehow not quite the enthusiastic response I was looking for."

She laughed somewhat sheepishly.

"I'm sorry. Of course I'm excited. I just—"

She bit her lip, blushing a little.

"What?" he prompted, casually snapping his fingers and nodding at a waiter as he caught the man's eye.

"I really want my parents to be there," she confessed. "I know that's sort of fanciful, given everything that's going on, what it wouldn't feel right without the four of them there."

"I understand completely," he affirmed, taking her hand. "But easily said than done, my love."

"I know," she said. "It's practically impossible."

"I suppose you and I could arrange to go to them instead," he offered. "But that means Ginny and Blaise won't be there."

"I know," she said somewhat dolefully. "I thought of that, too."

"We'll figure something out," he assured her. "I like to think I still have a few tricks up my sleeve."

"Oh yeah?" she teased. "Like what?"

"A true magician never reveals his secrets," he said in self-satisfaction, nodding a wordless thanks as their server brought a second bottle of the Tempranillo and set it on the table. "Now, let's talk about what you're going to wear."

She laughed bemusedly.

"A white gown of some kind, I'd imagine."

He waved his dismissively.

"Oh I don't care about that part," he explained, eyes glittering with laughter. "I was talking about what you're planning to have on underneath."

She shrugged noncommitally, giving him a sinful smirk

"Depends on the dress. Maybe nothing."

"That's my favourite outfit you own," he said salaciously.

"Then why do I bother spending thousands of galleons of years on clothes?" she teased.

He raised his eyebrows.

"A question I've asking myself for ten years," he replied.

"Charming, Malfoy, as always."

He gave a crooked smile.

"Don't suppose there's any point in trying to convince you to take my last name at this point, is there?"

She shrugged.

"You could always take mine instead," she pointed out casually.

In lieu of immediately responding, he took a sip of wine.

"That's true," he said. "I could."

She hadn't expected that, and it made her laugh.

"You would never," she said, slapping his arm playfully.

"I would," he countered. "If you asked me to."

"Draco Lefevre," Leolin tried out. "It is rather dashing."

"So are you asking me?" he persisted.

"No," she said simply, taking a sip as well.

"Why not?" he pressed. "Because you don't think I'll do it?"

"Well, no, I suppose I don't."

"Then let's getting married tonight, and I'll prove it to you."

"It's not just that I don't think you would," she admitted. "So much as I don't think you should."

"Alright," he said, picking up his glass again. "Now I'm really curious. Go on,then: why's that?"

She set down her own glass and gave him a meaningful look.

"People are going to be looking to you for courage and guidance," she said at last. "And you have to be ready to show them that you're not ashamed of who you are, and that you're ready to face your past and to defeat it."

"Well said," he said after a moment of consideration, eying her appreciatively.

"And for the record," she continued, not wanting to devolve into seriousness again. "I don't think you would have gone through with it. The first comment from Z and you would have freaked out and caved."

"You're wrong," he countered lightly. "But as you so elegantly pointed out, it's not in the interest of our cause to try and prove it to you."

She narrowed her eyes, still smiling.

"How very convenient for you."

"If you say so," he replied smugly, looking every bit the arrogant sixteen year old boy she'd first met. "But let's get back to the question at hand, shall we?

"Which was?" she asked lightly. "I've completely forgotten."

"When we get married, are you going to change your last name to Malfoy?"

"Now it sort of feels like you're asking me," she pointed out.

"I suppose I am," he admitted after a beat.

"There was a time you would have insisted upon it."

"I've learned a lot since then. Namely, no one has the authority to tell you what to do, least of all, me."

She smiled. He really had matured a tremendous amount in the time she'd been away. She really had to remember to thank her mother the next time she saw her.

"Prudent," she replied simply.

"But I would be lying if I told you it wouldn't make me happy. I know it's a heavy name to bear, but it would be easier with you. You don't have to decide right away, obviously, but I—"

"I've already decided," she interrupted. "In fact, I made up my mind the day I agreed to marry you. Drake, I love you, bad parts as much as good ones. If you're a Malfoy, so am I."

"Why are you so perfect?" he breathed, smiling.

"I'm glad you think so," she said, watching as the waiter set a beautifully-appointed cod down in front of her. It looked and smelled delicious. "I'll be sure to remind you that you said that the next time we fight."

"Us, fight?" Draco say, eying his own plate with enthusiasm before glancing up to smile at her. "Never."

She laughed.

"I'll drink to that," she said, raising her glass to touch his. "Now, mangiamo."


Several hours—and another bottle of wine—later, they strolled casually through the centre of Medieval Alúcidia. Leolin held her heels in one hand as she clutched Draco's arm with the other, for balance as much as comfort.

"That was amazing," she laughed somewhat drunkenly. "You are amazing."

"So are you," he laughed as she swayed. "Should we get you back to the bungalow now?"

"No!" she said. "It's so beautiful here. Let's keep walking for a bit."

"Are you just saying that because you're afraid you'll jeff if you have to side-along?"

"No!" she blustered, swaying a little. "Okay, maybe."

He laughed, but the merriment quickly blew from his face as he looked up to find a man watching them. Instinctively he drew his wand and pointed it at the man.

"Who are you?" he snarled. "What do you want?"

The man eyed the wand with bewilderment and fear.

"He's a muggle," Leolin said, forcing Draco's wand arm down. "And he works at the restaurant."

"Señorita Lefevre?"

"Yes," she said firmly, and she could feel her own wand hand twitching as well. "¿Qué necesitas?" she demanded. "Dime."

He extended a glowing orb, lip trembling.

"What is it?" she demanded. "Where did you get this?"

He should his head in miscomprehension and fear.

"¿De dónde sacaste eso?" she demanded, drawing her wand now, too. "Tell me."

"Un—un buhó."

"A what?" she demanded, he shook his head. "¿Un qué?"

"Buhó," he repeated. "Buhó."

"What is that?" he snapped.

"I'm not sure," Leolin said, gripping her wand tighter.

"Whoo, whoo," the man said helplessly, imitating a bird call.

"An owl," Leolin said to Draco. "It has to be from Ginny. She's the only one who knows where we are."

She extended her hand, and the orb flew into her outstretched palm. The man screeched in surprise, and Leolin's eyebrows knit together."

"Lo siento," she told him, raising her wand. He flinched and covered his eyes even as her next spell washed over him. "Obliviate."

She lowered her wand as he blinked at her in confusion.

"¡Vete!" she told him firmly. "Now."

He nodded numbly, turning on his head and slumping back from the street he'd first appeared from.

"Don't open that," Draco said. "We have no idea—"

Leolin interrupted him by throwing the orb as hard as she could into the cobblestones. It shattered magnifiscently on impact, and Draco tugged her away several feet as the light that had been bottled inside rocketed out. It quick took the form of a horse and cantered around the abandoning piazza before approaching them again.

"That's Ginny's patronus," Leolin breathed.

Finally, it spoke.

"I need you," Ginny's voice echoed, sounding tearful. "We lost the Battle of Hogwarts, and my brother Fred was still inside when the castle fell."

Draco and Leolin exchanged a solemn glance. It was funny how sobering bad news could be; Leolin barely felt drunk at all anymore.

"The funeral is tomorrow," Ginny continued. "Please, I need...you...there..."

The patronus faded into a wisp of smoke, and Leolin felt her mouth go dry. She looked at Draco. He'd been right; they had to savour every moment of joy. Alright they were growing more scarce.

"We'll leave at first light tomorrow," he promised, as she came numbly to his side pressed her face to his chest.

She felt the bubble they'd tried to create silently shatter around them, and she nodded.

"Then let's make tonight count."


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