Draco Malfoy was a wizard of habit. For ten years, routine had been both comfort and penance for his role in Astoria's death. She'd wanted a child as much as he, but it didn't lessen his need to atone for letting her risk childbirth activating the Greengrass curse that had taken her life.
Reading the Daily Prophet front to back while enjoying a second cup of tea after breakfast was another habit—one he'd amended over the last three years. He now read the Lifestyle section first: his guilty pleasure.
In the beginning, he'd enjoyed reading about Harry Potter's daughter because it amused him that Scorpius—aside from a Time-Turner adventure when he was fourteen—was a model child, while Lily Potter was the kind of girl who gave a father grey hair. She was always being photographed leaving a club or party, most of the time with a gang of mates, and sometimes with a rumoured lover.
Black and white photographs didn't show the vibrant red of her hair or her equally famous emerald eyes. Instead, they highlighted her beautiful bone structure and her lush mouth—a mouth he'd found himself studying with more than a flicker of interest as months and then years passed.
Hence the guilt: he wasn't supposed to feel sexual interest. He'd used Occlumency to detach from that part of himself in the year before Astoria's death. She'd required full-time care in her fragile state, and he'd wanted to assure her with absolute truth that spending his days and nights by her side was all he required for happiness. After her death, it was easier to be the father Scorpius deserved without the distraction of base desires. Alchemy became his passion. He found peace in his son, his studies, and the tranquillity of his routine at Malfoy Manor.
Draco still smirked over the thought that Harry and Ginny Potter, healthy lifestyle advocates, had a daughter who didn't follow in their exemplary footsteps. It was his male appreciation of Lily's perfect hourglass curves and his smiles over her cheeky replies to the intrusive questions of journalists that triggered pangs of guilt.
He rationalised his actions and physical response by telling himself that it was natural to be curious, even sexually curious, about a woman whose photographs were always in the newspapers. To satisfy one point of curiosity, Draco showed a news photo to Scorpius and asked why Harry Potter allowed his daughter to be a party girl.
"Lily's a force of nature. He can't stop her." Scorpius was twenty-three, but still grinned like a mischievous teen. "Aren't you glad she isn't your daughter?"
The July heat didn't affect the interior of the manor, yet Draco fought the urge to check his brow for drops of sweat. "Very," he said. "How is your second novel progressing? Do you need to borrow a book for reference?" Scorpius used his love for history to write mystery novels set in Londinium during the Roman period. Draco couldn't be prouder.
"No, thanks. I actually came to give you something." Scorpius raked his long fringe to the side and handed some kind of form across the desk.
"What is this?"
"You need to put an ad in the Sunday Prophet for a personal assistant." Scorpius gestured to the stacks of boxes, trunks, and files that took up the floor space and half the shelves in the bookcases that ran floor to ceiling along three of the four walls. "You're buried in research, not to mention all the junk you collect."
"I know where things are." Draco frowned. "And I have an alembic, an alchemical still, from the third century. I'd hardly call a tool for analytical chemistry junk. It's a historic artefact."
"That's not what I meant. You've become a hermit, Dad. I visit when I can, but I'm living with Rose in London, and you need more than the Stevenses to talk to." Scorpius's grey eyes twinkled. "An attractive, forty-something, single female would make a nice companion."
The face Draco wouldn't mind seeing every day was twenty years younger than the woman his son imagined. "Fine," he snapped, annoyed with himself more than Scorpius. "I'll place the ad."
"Yeah? Rose owes me a back rub, then. She said you'd find a way to get out of it."
Find a way to get out of it? Rose Weasley took after her mother in cleverness. By the time Scorpius returned to London, Draco had come up with a plan.
.
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The following Sunday, he grinned over a photograph taken a few hours earlier of Lily Potter covering a yawn with dainty fingers as she waited for a Squire Cab outside a club. A chuckle escaped when he read his ad in the "Outside London" section of the Classifieds. He'd written down the job title and his mailing address for responses. Not that he expected any. The ad was deliberately vague.
"Pleased with ourselves, are we?" Stevens asked as he picked up the teapot and refilled Draco's cup.
The butler and his housekeeper/chef wife had taken over running the manor after Dobby left. Draco regarded them as friends more than employees. "I am," he said, "although I wouldn't presume to speak for you or Mrs. Stevens."
Stevens gave him a faint smile. "Mrs. Stevens asked me to tell you that a wizard often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it."
Draco lifted an eyebrow. "You went to Liverpool yesterday. Did she get the fortune in Chinatown?"
"It has the tallest archway in Europe," Stevens said.
"Hmm." Draco hid his smile behind the paper. He glanced up in surprise when Stevens returned to dining room shortly after leaving it.
"Miss Lily Potter is here, sir."
Draco's heart hammered in his chest. "Beg pardon?" He folded the paper to hide the photograph of Lily. He must have misheard.
"Miss Lily Potter is at the front gate."
"What does she want?"
"She didn't say."
"Perhaps it's something to do with Rose and Scorpius." Draco pushed his chair back to rise. "Tell her I'll, erm, receive her in the drawing room."
"Yes, sir."
Draco took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Here was his chance to prove to himself that Lily Potter wasn't anything special. She was photogenic like a fashion model, not the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. In person she'd be ordinary. Forgettable.
He stood by the fireplace because it had a direct line of sight to the entry hall door. There was no fire. Should he light one? Magical flames wouldn't give off heat, yet would provide an excuse for him to stand where he could see his visitor the moment the door opened.
His pulse leapt at the murmur of voices. When the door opened and Lily Potter walked into the room, the air seemed to leave, sucked out of his lungs by the force of his reaction to her. He stared and said the first thing that came to mind, "You have your mother's hair and your father's eyes," although Weasley had never worn her hair up in a way that made him want to take it down and run his fingers through the fiery strands, and Draco had never experienced the sensation of drowning in the depths of Potter's eyes.
What was happening to him? He asked her sternly if she knew her aunt had been tortured in this room.
Lily shocked him by replying that she knew it, was glad her granny had killed Bellatrix, and said it wouldn't bother her to live at the manor, doubtless because his parents were together beyond the veil. He brought up his own past with her father. There were people who said there was no such thing as a former Death Eater.
"And people never change, there's only good or bad." She rolled her eyes. "Even if I'd never met Scorpius, my dad taught me that kind of thinking is bullshit."
He liked her frankness almost as much as he liked that she spoke to him as an equal instead of adding "sir" at the end the way Rose had the first time Scorpius brought her to visit. "Harry Potter used the word 'bullshit'?"
Lily admitted that she'd paraphrased her father's exact words.
Draco almost chuckled; and then he remembered what she'd said about living at the manor. He told her room and board hadn't been offered.
"Neither was salary. I trust you'll be generous on all accounts." Her smile had the force of a Reductor Curse; it blasted the walls that fortified his self-control to pieces. He imagined her smiling up at him as he held her naked in his arms.
Draco adjusted his cufflinks to have an excuse not to look at her while he fought to subdue his lusty thoughts. He told her he'd only placed the ad to appease Scorpius.
Lily confessed that she'd guessed at much.
Before he knew it, Draco was escorting her to the library to show her where they'd be working. The sight of over a decade's worth of research jammed onto shelves and piled on his desk or in trunks and boxes along with all the alchemical tools he'd collected didn't overwhelm her. She laughed and said she was up to the challenge. When he told her he worked in the afternoon and for a few hours after dinner, she squeezed her forearm between her thumb and forefinger.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Pinching myself. You're a dream come true."
She was the kind of dream he'd never experienced as a teenager living in fear.
"It'll take you a few days to feel the same about me," she said. "Where am I sleeping?"
The mental image of her in his bed, smiling as she asked, "You want to make up for eleven years of abstinence? I'm up to the challenge," rendered him speechless. He was out of his mind to think of her that way. She was there to be his personal assistant, not his lover!
Lily said, "Anywhere but the Voldemort Room is fine."
Draco couldn't hold back a laugh. Voldemort had taken over the master bedroom along with the rest of the manor whenever he'd visited. She would be more comfortable in the east wing. He raised his eyebrows when Lily said she had all her things in her handbag and could start right away. Along with being confident that he'd hire her, she'd avoided a possible family row in a way that was almost Slytherin.
He escorted her to the east wing where he and his wife had raised their son. Astoria had chosen all the casual, modern furnishings. Scorpius still slept in his old room when he occasionally spent the night. Draco informed Lily that he'd moved into the main house so she wouldn't fear he'd invade her privacy. There was a kitchen and dining room if she preferred to cook her own meals. By her grimace, she didn't. He invited her to join him for lunch and told her the manor had an owlery for her use.
Before they returned to the library, he had to ask, "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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Draco found it both easy and difficult to explain the filing system he'd developed over the years. Lily had an excellent memory and didn't have to be told anything twice, which he appreciated. Her face lit up with genuine interest when he showed her his alchemical artefacts. She asked questions, and he ended up doing a mix of showing and telling that made it hard for him to remember that she was his employee, not a woman he was trying to impress with the scope of his research and the size of his collection.
He noticed her gaze drifting over him from time to time. Was she impressed with his size? Good thing he'd worn loose-fitting trousers that day. The part of him that hadn't been allowed to impress anyone in a long, long time wanted to remedy that immediately.
Stevens entered the library. "Mr. and Mrs. Potter request Miss Lily's presence at the front gate."
Draco rubbed the scar on his chest. "Shall I go with you?" Harry Potter would cast another Dark curse if he used Legilimency to see his old enemy's attraction to his daughter.
Lily shook her head. "I don't want them making this about you instead of me." She went over to the desk, wrote something on a scrap of parchment, and handed it to him. "Here. I want to tell them I've already signed an employment contract."
He read: Lily Potter agrees to assist Draco Malfoy with his alchemy research and will receive generosity and interesting projects to work on in return.
It was more of an agreement than a proper contract, but he signed his name anyway. Lily asked if he had anything with a Shield Charm on it. He removed his cufflinks and attached them to the elasticised band she'd used to put up her hair, driven by the need to touch. Merlin help him, the strands were like silk. Her shiver sent a corresponding tremor through his body. Do not think about fisting her hair and tilting her head back for a kiss! He told Lily her hair would conceal the cufflinks.
She put a hand up to her bun. "Thanks."
Three words rang through the house with the aid of a Sonorous Charm: Lily Luna Potter!
Once Lily ran out of the library, Draco headed for the kitchen where Stevens, with the aid of a Scrying Charm, saw and heard everything that happened at the front gate. The Stevenses stood in front of a plate glass window that Scorpius said projected images clearer than a Muggle television set. Draco watched as Lily strolled down the drive and then halted metres away from the wrought-iron gate.
Harry and Ginny Potter were still fit, thanks to their sugar-free eating habits. Along with their identical frown lines, they wore matching Harpies t-shirts and jeans, a look that tried a bit too hard to project a united front against their daughter.
The air in front of Lily shimmered.
"Confundus Charm," Mrs. Stevens said disdainfully. "On a defenceless young woman."
"Not quite." Stevens coughed in a way that sounded like "cufflinks."
Oblivious or uncaring that she was being watched by those in the house, Ginny Potter 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."
Draco saw Harry Potter glance at his wife, who was scowling, before he 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," Ginny Potter added.
Mrs. Stevens said, "I read an article about this. Broomstick Parents always hovering around the children and refusing to let them fly on their own."
Draco watched Lily square her shoulders, even as she said blithely, "No, thanks. I like it here. I've already signed an employment contract."
Ginny Potter roared, "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!" Harry Potter yelled.
Draco inhaled and exhaled slowly to calm his own stormy emotions. Ginny Potter's words and tone triggered memories of his father. Lucius had never restrained himself from castigating his son within hearing of others. He made everyone aware of his low opinion of Draco's intelligence and abilities. At least Lily stood up to her mother. Draco had whined or made excuses which his father mocked or dismissed. He hadn't developed a backbone until Lucius tried to indoctrinate Scorpius into "old ways."
As he regained his composure, Draco heard Potter say, "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?"
Ginny Potter replied, "Not long."
Draco balled his hands into fists. Didn't they notice the way Lily's mouth trembled before she put on a smile and waved goodbye? Were their feelings the only ones that mattered?
"I'm serving lunch on the terrace," Mrs. Stevens said. "It's a soothing view."
He nodded his thanks and Apparated to the drawing room to give Lily a moment to regain her equanimity. Draco opened the door at the exact moment a hair band and his cufflinks flew across the entry hall. He bent to pick up the three items and slip them into his pocket. She didn't ask him to return her elasticised band. Her long hair was tumbled; her eyes glittered with pain and anger.
"I—I hate buns," Lily said.
She was referring to more than a hairstyle. Draco fingered the band he wanted to keep because it was hers. "I dislike them myself at the moment."
Lily pushed her hair away from her face. ""You know what else I hate? This outfit." She curled a lip at the navy tweed sheath dress that skimmed her curves. "If you expect me to dress like an office worker—"
"This is a private home. Casual attire is permissible." He didn't care what she wore as long as she stayed.
.
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During lunch, Lily appeared entranced by the formal gardens beyond the terrace.
"Would you prefer something else?" Draco asked in order to turn her gaze in his direction. The table parasol cast shadows over her porcelain skin.
"Oh, no. This is one of the best salads I've ever had." She took a bite as if to prove it. A few minutes later, she gave him a smile that was both apologetic and playful. "I used to think you were agoraphobic, the way Scorpius talked about how difficult it was to pry you away from here, but now I understand how hard it must be to leave someplace so peaceful."
Comfort and penance . . . . He lifted his glass of lemonade and rattled off some nonsense about the good memories outweighing the bad. He changed the topic of conversation to Scorpius and Rose inviting Albus to move into their second guest room. The last thing Draco would allow if he had a partner was a flatmate hampering their ability to make love whenever and wherever they wanted.
Lily didn't seem to think anything was wrong with the New Trio acting like they were still fourth-years who did everything together, but Draco was resolved to talk to Scorpius about it . . . one day . . . if Albus Potter didn't find a partner of his own to hug instead of clinging to Rose and Scorpius.
While his new personal assistant unpacked her things and settled in, Draco paced the library. If he swam laps until he exhausted himself or took a long, frigid shower, the Stevenses would guess why he'd broken his routine. He closed his eyes and tried to empty himself of the emotions he'd considered well-sacrificed years earlier. He couldn't do it. His frozen heart hadn't stood a chance against Lily Potter. It had thawed faster than a Frost Salamander hit with an Incendio Spell. If he was a fool wearing his heart on his sleeve, as Snape used to say, Draco wished he could toss it to the floor and kick it.
Need and desire hurt. Longing burned in his veins and created an ache that might cost him his life to satisfy.
But, damn, he felt alive.
And nervous. He lost control of a Locomotion Charm and dropped a pyramid of scrolls when Lily entered the library wearing a jade green sundress. Stevens, who had placed the tea tray on the newly-cleared portion of the desk, Summoned a gilt chair for her to sit on. Draco should have thought of it, an oversight that irritated him. Malfoys had manners.
"Never mind," he said when Lily asked him what order the scrolls went in.
"Tea, miss?" Stevens enquired. Underneath his impassive façade, he probably couldn't wait to tell his wife that Draco had forgotten what to put where.
Lily took her tea with lemon and without sugar. Draco did the same. After Stevens left, she asked, "Have you gone off cakes and biscuits? According to Scorpius, your sweet tooth is legendary."
"Men can't indulge themselves like boys," he said, fighting the urge to dive into the sugar bowl as a substitute for all the other sweet things he craved.
She sighed. "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."
Reserves of willpower kept his eyes from dropping to the baps she'd almost mentioned. When she thanked him for the tea and rushed for the door, he snatched up the sugar tongs.
Lily glanced over her shoulder. "You do dress for dinner, don't you?"
Caught with his hand in the sugar bowl, he replied, "Uh, yes."
.
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It wasn't until after he'd showered and stood in his walk-in wardrobe facing a row of evening wear that he admitted how much he'd missed dressing up. If emerald eyes were drawn to the broad shoulders he'd gained from swimming and the athletic V-shape revealed by a well-fitting suit, that was a bonus.
Lily wore a strapless black evening gown to dinner that managed to be both elegant and alluring. She complimented him on his dinner jacket and asked if he drank his martinis shaken, not stirred. Draco didn't drink martinis—didn't drink more than a glass of wine or the occasional Firewhisky—but if he did, he'd prefer them stirred because shaking would bruise the gin and make the drink bitter. Her amused smile stopped him from telling her that shaking also made a martini cloudy from bits of ice. "You look lovely," he said.
"Thank you." Lily told him the name of the designer who had given the gown to her in exchange for the publicity of having Harry Potter's daughter wear her creation. "I adore dressing up," she said ruefully, as if it was a character flaw. No doubt her parents, who were often photographed wearing tracksuits, had given her that impression.
"It's a requirement at the opera," he said.
Throughout dinner, they discussed all the places one was expected to dress formally and semi-formally. On the surface, it was polite conversation. Beneath his dinner host façade, Draco was impressed by Lily's poise. She'd grown up surrounded by famous and influential people, and he'd wager she could talk to anyone.
After Monday dawned and Draco had taken a second shower set to arctic temperature, he finally managed to fall asleep.
Draco yanked the Invisibilty Cloak off Harry Potter and bent to tell his enemy lying motionless on the train carriage floor, "I'm going to let you live because one day your daughter is going to walk into Malfoy Manor and make me feel . . . well . . . you're a bloke. You'll figure it out." Potter's eyes were wide, frozen in alarm. Draco scowled. "You think I'd hurt Lily because her dad's a self-righteous git?"
He kicked Potter in the face. "Forget my father. That's for being an arsehole to your daughter."
Draco jerked awake and then drifted back to sleep with a smile on his face.
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Four mornings later, he paced outside the conservatory that held an indoor pool instead of plants. In addition to wrecking his sleep by inspiring erotic dreams, Lily Potter had destroyed his routine by following her morning runs with a dip in the pool at the same time he normally swam laps. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable, but since they shared meals and worked together, surely they could share a pool. He pushed open the door and strode toward the shower room to rinse off.
He'd finished his warm-up laps when a soft sound brought his head up. Lily, in an emerald green swimsuit, stood at the edge of the pool gazing down at him. Her lips were parted, her skin flushed, her eyes smouldered—with desire?
Draco gripped the edge of the pool to keep from pulling her into his arms. "Lily? Are you all right?"
"I think I ran too hard." Her breathy voice hardened every muscle in his body. "The scenery is . . . ." He pulled himself out of the water. "Stunning." Her blush intensified. She whispered, "Can I Apparate inside the house?"
As much as he wanted to lie, he nodded.
She Disapparated.
He swam laps until he had to drag himself out of the pool and stumble his way to the shower. The dining room was empty when he arrived. Draco forced himself to eat Mrs. Stevens' country French omelette so she wouldn't worry that he was ill. He flipped through the paper and finally tossed it down and went to the library.
His mouth dropped open at the sight of Lily on her hands and knees, drawing on a poster-sized sheet of parchment. He couldn't move, transfixed by her backside. Draco had sneered at Crabbe and Goyle whenever they made comments about wanting to grab a girl's arse or bite it. Now his fingers twitched and his mouth watered. He asked roughly, "What are you doing?"
"I'm almost done sketching the 'Before' library." She didn't glance over her shoulder, thank Merlin. Her tone became teasing. "I signed and dated it, if you want to frame it for posterity."
He wanted her on his bed naked. Draco clenched his jaw. "Before implies an after." He went to stand beside her. "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 meet his eyes. "You tried it, and then you liked it." As if she'd realized how provocative she sounded, Lily blushed and averted her gaze.
He imagined her rising to her knees before reaching to unbuckle his belt. He'd more than like it if she tried it. Draco took deep breaths to control his desire.
Lily broke the silence. "Is there anything I've forgotten?"
He'd forgotten that he was a widower with a grown son, not a randy schoolboy. "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."
Her arm brushed his as she made notes. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and found her gazing at him in the same way.
Lily dropped her quill onto her skirt and then jumped to her feet to go change.
Draco admired her sketch and ran a fingertip across her bold signature.
.
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Stevens knew a spell to frame the drawing. He offered to cast it, but Draco wanted to do the work himself. He took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves to practise on a couple of other pieces of parchment. By the time Lily returned to the library, he'd placed the framed "Before" drawing on the desk and had opened a lid to begin rechecking the contents of each trunk. She'd changed into a Puddlemere United t-shirt and jeans. He'd only seen her in skirts. Strange how denim that concealed was more revealing.
Draco asked her to double-check the items he called out against the notes on the master drawing. After the fourth trunk, she asked if his voice was getting tired.
"A bit," he said. "Why don't I check off the items while you call them out?"
"That's a rhetorical question, right?"
He chuckled at her dry tone. Even if she would've preferred they stop for tea, Lily was good-humoured about it. She didn't get snippy or give him the silent treatment until he gave in and did things her way. The same went for her organising. She'd warned him smilingly on the first day that she'd be asking all kinds of questions to discover how he liked things sorted; she'd done the same with all her aunts and cousins before she'd reorganised their wardrobes. Lily wouldn't hesitate to answer if he asked how she'd suggest something be done, but she wanted to know his preferences. She was there to meet his needs.
Lily bent over to reach an item in a trunk and the word "needs" took on a very different meaning. He'd never made love in the library. His body declared that needed to change ASAP. The more he stared at her arse, the more explicit his imagination became. He choked out that they were done for the day and fled the room.
Routine be damned. Draco headed for the conservatory. He needed the rush of water past his ears to replace the pounding of his pulse, and the rhythm of his strokes—bad analogy. Swimming would help.
He focused on his routine, his pushoffs, pace, turns and technique. He didn't allow his mind to drift. He blocked out all distraction until he swam his last cool down lap and a sigh vibrated the air. In that moment, every muscle that had relaxed tensed. He saw Lily treading water at the other end of the pool—yet another place he'd never made love.
All at once, he knew why sailors risked death for a siren's kiss. As if she'd sensed his intent, Lily clambered out of the pool and Disapparated.
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He wore his favourite black dinner jacket to dinner. He'd never pursued a woman before, wasn't quite sure how to go about it. Pansy had taken them being a couple for granted, and Astoria had captured his interest after the war by chatting him up at a funeral, of all places. He smiled wryly. In the back of his mind, he'd expected Lily, a bold Gryffindor, to be the one to signal her receptiveness to expanding the boundaries of their relationship. Instead, she blushed and retreated whenever the attraction between them flared hot.
Draco stopped by the kitchen. They'd stopped with a cheese course every other night, something else he wanted to change. "Would it be too much trouble to ask—"
"Meringues drizzled with caramel served on vanilla custard," Mrs. Stevens said with a shooing motion.
He thanked her and retreated, wondering if she had a touch of Second Sight.
In the dining room, Lily stood looking up at one of the serpent wall sconces. Her simple black dress was tied at the side with a bow. He wanted to pull it and unwrap her like a present.
"My grandfather was obsessed with serpentine dragons," Draco said.
"Abraxas Malfoy. Scorpius said he died of Dragon Pox because he didn't believe in vaccinations."
"My parents made sure I had mine," he replied.
"Mine too."
They made small talk through dinner, and during dessert, Lily asked, "Will we fend for ourselves tomorrow? I've been here since Sunday, so I'm assuming the Stevenses have Saturdays off."
"They do." He stared at his plate. Would she go to London to see family and friends?
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."
Draco arched an eyebrow to hide his relief. "I never realised Scorpius was so chatty."
"He isn't. I just remember things I find fa—interesting." She stuffed another spoonful of meringue and custard into her mouth. "Mmm."
His lips curved. She thought he was fascinating. Was her suggestion a veiled way to ask him on a date? He was more familiar with the concept of spending time with someone to gauge compatibility than the practice. He'd never dated Pansy. They'd hung out in the common room or in the Three Broomsticks on Hogsmeade Weekends if she finished shopping with her mates, but there had been nothing romantic about it. He'd courted Astoria through letters, marrying her so quickly that gossips didn't stop buzzing about the reason for haste until nine months had passed without a birth announcement.
Draco liked the idea of dating to learn more about Lily and spend time together doing activities that weren't work-related.
"I've never seen you dressed casually," she said as they parted for the evening. "I can't wait to see you in jeans."
Draco stood in the upstairs corridor after she'd gone, rooted to the spot by questions that thrilled and terrified. Did she want to see him in jeans to check out his arse the way he'd checked out hers, and if he still had the jeans Scorpius gave him years earlier, would they still fit?
The answer to all questions was yes. He found the jeans and they fit, although his biggest ego-boost came when he reached up to take the latest model Nimbus down from the wall in the room they called the broom cupboard and turned to find Lily's eyes lowered, caught in the act of looking at his arse. She'd blushed, but had taken the broom with a smile. He'd smiled, too, and that playful exchange had set the tone for the day.
Astoria had feared heights, although once Scorpius had been old enough, she'd encouraged them to go flying. Draco had missed their father/son outings. Flying with Lily evoked the familiar pleasure of sharing the sights with a companion while adding a new level of excitement.
Her long braid tempted him with images of winding it around his wrist and using it to bring her close for a kiss. Was such a thing possible while flying? Disillusionment Charms rendered them unseen to the tourists visiting Stonehenge, but Draco kept track of Lily's position by the faint blurring as they flew. Her delighted laughter gave him a deep feeling of satisfaction.
They returned to the manor to devour the green tapenade pasta salad Mrs. Stevens fixed before she left for the day. Lily said as they cleared the dishes that they should've saved the salad for their dinner and made sandwiches for lunch. Draco promptly suggested they meet at eight o'clock and have a sandwich making contest. "Winner gets an extra spoonful of chocolate mousse."
"From the loser's bowl?" Lily asked impishly.
From anywhere you like. "Absolutely."
Draco made Scorpius's favourite sandwich: the Malfoy Monte Cristo. He combined slices of turkey, ham and Swiss cheese on bread, dipped it into an egg and milk mixture like French toast and fried the sandwich until golden brown. He added a dusting of icing sugar and served each half with a dollop of red currant jelly. Her Potter Pastrami on Rye couldn't compete. He enjoyed the spoonful of mousse he won so much he licked the spoon clean.
.
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The next morning, he was reading the Sunday Prophet while waiting for Lily when she Apparated into the dining room.
"You have an Alice in Wonderland croquet set!" She waved a flamingo mallet at him. "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." He could still hear his father raging over Astoria's subversive, Muggle-promoting ways.
Lily put a hand on her hip. "Somebody used to. I saw dirt smudges on the playing cards that form the hoops."
A muscle worked in Draco's jaw. He stared at the paper blankly, his mother's words echoing in his mind. You cannot participate. Lucius won't allow it!
"It's easy to learn," Lily said.
"No." He turned the page to maintain his pretense of reading.
After protracted, torturous silence, she said, "OK. I'll ask the Stevenses. We'll be on the east lawn if you change your mind."
Draco closed his eyes in self-disgust. How many times had Astoria or Scorpius told him variations of, "If you change your mind"? Dozens. He'd watched them play croquet with the Stevenses from the east terrace, but hadn't dared to step foot on the lawn.
He pushed back his chair. His father was gone, and Draco was accountable only to his conscience.
Croquet attire was all white. He felt silly in his fedora, but Lily, in her floppy hat and white sundress, was breath-taking. She ran over 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?"
He should've agreed and kept things light, but she deserved the truth. "Father didn't approve of Muggle games, so I always abstained to keep the peace." I wasn't strong enough to stand up for what I believed in.
"Always?"
"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 to try new things and think for himself."
Her shoulder bumped his—a Gryffindor gesture of encouragement? "And now you're trying new things. Scorpius will be proud."
"Will he?" His son was astute enough to realise who had prompted Draco's decision to change.
Lily clasped his hand. "I am," she said, and when she gave his fingers a squeeze, he gently squeezed back.
From their first swings of the flamingo mallets, the Stevenses proved themselves superior players. Draco and Lily didn't even try to provide competition. Instead, they laughed and made nonsensical bets such as whose hedgehog would roll the farthest away from the intended hoop.
The Stevenses, magnanimous in their victory, Apparated to the kitchen to prepare refreshments while the vanquished put away the croquet set.
"I've never had a better time losing," Lily said. Her face softened as she shared that her family members always won, and even the babies beat her at staring contests.
Draco shared what Scorpius's paediatric Healer had told him: babies blinked less because they slept more and had more moisture in their eyes.
"Those little cheaters!" Lily cried.
Her voice, filled with laughter and affection, tugged at something inside him. She was more than a good sport. Lily was a beautiful person inside and out. Her fingertips brushed his hand, and it was all he could do not to kiss her. He said, "I'll return the croquet set to Scorpius's room if you want to help Mrs. Stevens in the kitchen."
Lily Disapparated.
.
.
During their ginger biscuits and raspberry lemonade celebration, Draco was surprised to hear Lily volunteer to help clean the manor. Her eyes widened when Mrs. Stevens said she could help him dust and polish.
"You don't sleep in every morning?" Lily asked. "You help clean?"
Goblin crews did the deep cleaning twice a month. He helped maintain the manor in-between. The spells were simple and didn't take more than an hour a day, hardly an amazing feat. He joked, "And then I reward myself with a swim."
Lily bit her lip. "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." From what Draco had observed, dating was more than candlelight dinners and grand gestures. It was having fun and being with the romantic partner whenever possible.
"Sure," she said. "I'm willing to give it a go."
The next five days were exhilaratingly frustrating. He liked running because he liked the sight of Lily in workout clothes that bared her midriff and legs. As a means of exercise, he found running worked the lower body instead of toning every muscle group like swimming. It was also sweaty. He preferred his hair and body soaked by water, but had to admit that perspiration on Lily's skin was a thing of beauty.
Their time spent in the pool began awkwardly. Lily blushed and had a hard time relaxing. He acted as though he didn't notice in order to put her at ease. Eventually, she grew comfortable with his touch and closeness, although from time to time their eyes met and held in a way that almost made steam rise from the water.
Working together was another kind of maddening pleasure. He struggled to treat her professionally while desiring to be her partner in every way. Once Lily finished the "After" library sketch on Friday, she caught him off guard when she asked, "What are we going to do with your research?"
Draco gestured to the framed drawing on the desk. "Have you forgotten already?"
"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."
He'd never considered it.
Lucius expects you to fail, but I know you can do anything you set your mind to.
Astoria had referred to his ability to be a good husband and father. Could he become an author too? He told Lily she'd have to organise his research. It might take years.
She didn't hesitate. "If I do any writing, I want credit as coauthor."
Lily wanted to stay with him. He held his breath, waiting for her to take the words back. She didn't. "Agreed," he said on a shaky exhale. "And I'd like you to draw the illustrations."
They were smiling at each other when Stevens entered the library with a tea tray.
That evening at dinner, Lily asked if Draco had told Scorpius that he'd hired a personal assistant.
Draco told the truth—he didn't want to disturb his son's writing—without telling the whole truth; Scorpius would squawk like a Hippogriff if he knew the assistant was Lily Potter.
The conversation turned to running and indulging in sweets, which somehow led to Draco and Lily competing to eat the most baby artichokes before Stevens returned to clear the first course. If Draco laughed harder than their antics deserved, it was a good release of tension.
He retreated to the library after dinner. The wall of shelves behind his desk resembled a museum display now that he and Lily had sorted all his alchemical tools and placed them behind warded glass doors for safekeeping.
A paper airplane flew into the room and landed on the desk. Draco unfolded it and read:
If you haven't already made plans for tomorrow, would you like to picnic by the lake I saw on our flight to Stonehenge?
He wrote that he hadn't been to the lake in years. His mother, afraid that he'd toddle in and drown, had ordered Dobby to create a woodland barrier between the lake and the manor. Would Lily prefer to hike or fly?
Shortly after he sent the airplane off, it returned.
Fly! We could meet at eleven in the kitchen to pack a picnic if you're up for another sandwich-making contest.
He was up for a lot of things. Draco wrote: It's a date and sent the paper airplane on its way before heading to the pool to swim laps after an ice-cold shower.
That night, Draco tossed and turned and eventually fell asleep.
Again, he pulled the Invisibility Cloak off Harry Potter. This time, he sat facing his former nemesis on the train carriage floor.
"You haven't sent a Howler or dropped by to check that my vault of Dark objects remains sealed." Draco shook his head. "I couldn't get my head around it, Potter and Weasley allowing their beautiful daughter to live at Malfoy Manor and spend every day with the man they used to hate." He reached out and tapped the rim of Potter's glasses. "It's because you don't see me for who I am. You only see who I used to be."
Draco stood. "Lily doesn't think I'm pathetic. We're going on a picnic tomorrow." He started to draw back his shoe and then halted. "I'm going to kiss her, and knowing that will pain you more than a broken nose."
He turned and headed for the door. A strangled noise brought him back.
"On second thought, my father was a bastard, but I loved him." Draco kicked Harry in the face.
He chuckled in his sleep.
.
.
The alarm Scorpius and Rose had given him for Christmas woke Draco with the sound of birds in the forest. It was enough to put a man off nature, but at least he didn't jolt awake from a trumpet-induced adrenaline spike—Scorpius's previous alarm clock gift.
He dressed in a navy shirt his son claimed made him look "too fit to be a dad" and jeans. Draco rolled up his sleeves. He was going for dressy casual. His hair was a little long, but it didn't have any strands of grey, and he'd fixed the damned receding hairline Ron Weasley had snickered over the first year they'd sent their children to Hogwarts.
Vanity, thy name is Malfoy. Astoria had teased him about it. What would Lily say?
Downstairs, Mrs. Stevens had left a note by the teakettle informing him that she and Stevens were going to an oyster festival in Kent and would spend the night at a bed and breakfast. Thoughts of what could happen between two consenting adults distracted him from paying attention to the toast that seemed to skip golden and jump straight from white to russet brown. He slathered on butter to compensate.
He was sitting at the small round kitchen table, everything arranged, when Lily walked in. Her bright blue halter top and black shorts bared a tempting amount of skin. "You made breakfast."
Draco gestured to the rack of toast and teapot. "Such as it is." Draco told her about the Stevenses' outing.
She bit into the toast."Mmm . . . delicious." Her chin lifted as if to dare him to say otherwise.
As a Slytherin, his instinct for self-preservation was finely honed. He hid a smile behind the rim of his teacup.
After breakfast, they perused the cupboards for sandwich ingredients. Lily found a jar of Bolognese sauce and changed her mind about the sandwich contest rematch. She offered to make fresh pasta for dinner if he'd make lunch.
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." He considered telling her he would eat them in a box with a fox, but if she was unfamiliar with the Muggle poem, she wouldn't get the joke or the implied compliment. She was a fox, and he would eat "green" eggs anywhere with her.
They decided to pack the containers and make the sandwiches when they got hungry. He flew close to Lily and pointed out the path Dobby had created through the woods. They dismounted on the elf-made beach along the lakeshore.
Draco unfurled the picnic rug and confessed how his fall and bloody knee led to his mother ordering Dobby to blast fist-sized stones into pebbles. Despite the drain on his magic, the house-elf remained at their beck and call.
Lily sat beside him on the rug. "You felt guilty."
He'd tried to apologise to Dobby, but Lucius had overheard and punished them both. "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.
Lily's voice was soft with sympathy. "Is that the way your father spoke?"
"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."
None of them good and all of them true.
"I like the man you are now." She curled a hand around the nape of his neck to pull his head down to hers. He'd been so arrogant in his dream, telling Potter he was going to kiss Lily, and here he was, breathing out her name like a prayer, tentatively brushing her lips before desire took over. He didn't deserve Lily's kisses, but he couldn't pull away. He caressed her cheek and slid his fingers up to tug her ponytail free, slipping the elastic band into his pocket.
She clutched at his shirt, pulling him down against her softness until the need to make love to her had him tearing his mouth away to bury his face in the curve of her neck. In his current state, he wouldn't be the slow, gentle lover she deserved.
"I've fantasized about biting and kissing your throat."
Lily's husky words were straight out of his fantasies. He pressed closed-mouth kisses to her skin, and then nibbled and sucked. He thrust against her when she moaned and rocked her hips. It took every shred of control he had to push himself off her. He sat up, staring blindly at the lake. "This is going too fast. I'm taking advantage."
"Bullshit." Her arms wrapped around his waist. He felt her cheek press his back, heard the smile in her voice when she said, "I was the one putting the moves on you."
"Is that right?"
She giggled. "Yes, it is." Lily slid a hand down to touch 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."
Another fantasy, he thought as he captured her hand 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."
"What's that?" he asked, distracted by her swaying hips.
"Last one in the air makes the sandwiches!" she said as she snatched up a racing broom.
He Summoned his broom. "You cheeky cheat!"
"Are you referring to my arse or my attitude?"
They laughed so hard, it was a toss-up who would be the first in flight. Draco lost the race but felt like he'd won, flying with Lily and later watching her comb her tousled hair with her fingers while he made their sandwiches. They used the picnic basket as a table.
Lily made a "Mmm" sound as she ate. "Say! I like green eggs, although I'm glad it's pesto making them green." She giggled and took another bite.
"I like you," Draco said. I'd like you in the rain, and in the dark, and on a train. I'd like you in a car, although I've never ridden in one, and in a tree. Suddenly, with a grownup object of affection, the children's poem had adult connotations.
"Thank you," Lily said softly. "I like you, too." Her eyes sparkled. "So much, I may insist we hike back so I can snog you in the woods."
"Please do."
Between stops to kiss, they held hands.
.
.
On their return, Lily asked if he'd like to help her make the pasta ahead of time since it only took a couple of minutes to cook. Draco didn't know how much help he'd be, but he was willing to try. Kneading the dough was an oddly relaxing experience. He nodded his agreement when Lily said they should make different pasta every Saturday. She made Fusilli, orecchiette, and pappardelle sound sexy—or perhaps that was him imagining her kneading the dough while he stood behind her, his hands roaming her body.
He cleared his throat to say, "Smooth, not sticky. I'd say it's ready for the cling film."
"Can you do it? I need a cold shower."
Lily Disapparated, leaving him grinning like a lovesick fool as he wrapped the dough.
A paper airplane message zoomed into his bathroom as he was stepping out of his own cold shower. He cast a Drying Charm and read:
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.
Draco wanted their night to be special, so he decorated the terrace for dining al fresco. He was glad he'd dressed in his best tuxedo when Lily entered the kitchen in a floor length gown that embraced her curves in a way he envied. She'd worked some kind of magic on her hair, arranging part of it up in a way that made him look forward to taking it down.
He moved toward 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."
They worked together to make dinner, and then he casually suggested they dine on the terrace. Lily's face lit up when she saw the enchanted Muggle fairy lights and table set for two. She picked up the red rose he'd left on her plate 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 poured the wine. "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." He hoped "fun" wasn't a euphemism for "tastes like a cheap fizzy drink."
"Bubbles are always fun," Lily said as she accepted a glass of sparkling red wine. She sipped. "I taste berries."
It tasted like a berry-flavoured fizzy drink to him, but he didn't mind the sugar overdose when she laughed at his grumbling, "Mmm."
They talked more than ate. Lily's face was so expressive, Draco asked about her favourite foods and places she'd visited to watch emotions light up her eyes and smiles play on her lips. He was so dazzled, it took a few moments for her confession that she'd never danced on a terrace before to register. He'd never slow danced—pure-blood comportment lessons included learning to waltz, not how to rub against each other like Muggles—but he was eager to learn.
A noise from the house had Draco reaching into his tuxedo jacket for his wand. "Get behind me."
He had his wand poised to disarm when Scorpius and Rose Apparated onto the terrace. The look of shock and dismay on their faces mirrored his. Why had they picked that night to stop by the manor?
"Dad!" Scorpius yelped. "What the hell?"
Lily stood beside Draco. ""Hello. If we'd known you two were going to visit, we would've made more spaghetti."
Scorpius shot her an angry glance before demanding, "What's going on?" He gestured to the lights, and their clothes, taking offense that they dressed for dinner.
Draco said, "Mind your manners, son."
Scorpius acted as though he didn't hear him. "I remember that dress," he told Lily. "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 his father. "Merlin, tell me you two aren't shagging!"
"Scorpius. Library. Now!" Draco Apparated.
He stood by the drawings he'd hung on the wall beside the door. When Scorpius Apparated into the library, the first thing he saw was the display of artefacts. "Merlin!"
"Lily, actually."
Scorpius whirled around. Draco pointed to the "After" drawing. "I'll no longer be buried in research. Isn't that what you wanted?"
"Yes, but, Dad," Scorpius raked his hand through his hair. "She's Albus's little sister! The Potters think she's in Europe!"
"Her parents are aware that she's here."
Scorpius stared slack-jawed. "They allowed her to work for you?"
"Lily chose to stay."
"And when the library's organised she'll go?"
Draco didn't answer. He intended to make Lily want to stay forever. "You owe her an apology," he said. "Your behavior was rude."
"Yours is mental," Scorpius retorted. "Damn it, Dad, she's younger than I am! Her family will kill you if you touch her!" His eyes rounded. "You haven't touched her, have you? Tell me you haven't."
"Our relationship is none of your business." Draco stalked out of the library.
.
.
He holed up in his room with a bottle of Firewhisky. Ogden's Finest, of course. No Muggle swill for a Malfoy.
Draco drained another tumbler. If death was the price he had to pay for happiness, he'd pay it—as a last resort, if he couldn't talk or fight his way out of it. Perhaps he was mental. He was pouring his third drink when he heard a knock on his door.
"It's safe to come out," Lily called. "Scorpius and Rose went to meet Albus at a pub to play darts."
"You haven't touched her, have you? Tell me you haven't."
"I'm . . . tired." Scorpius was all he had. What would he do if being with Lily cost him his relationship with his son? Draco tossed back more Firewhisky. "Goodnight."
Lily was silent for a few moments before asking, "Why don't I make hot chocolate and bring you a cup?"
If he opened the door, they'd share more than hot chocolate. "No, thank you."
"All right, but if you change your mind I'll be in my room." After a pause, she added, "Reading."
He uttered a bleak chuckle. She'd be reading like he'd be sleeping. "Cowardice, thy name is Malfoy," he mumbled as he finished his drink.
Draco was pacing his bedroom when a paper airplane squeezed beneath the door and flew over to him. His heart lifted. She'd sent him a love note! He frowned over the non-romantic message: When will the Stevenses return?
He wrote back: In the morning. They're spending the night in Whitstable.
She replied: Excellent. I wouldn't want to shock them.
His imagination went wild; she was naked in every scenario. Draco managed to draw a question mark.
Lily responded: Do you have any enchanted tiki torches?
Another paper airplane zipped into the room. 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.
He was only a man, damn it. He had to see what she was doing. Draco drew on what little dignity and sobriety he still possessed and walked downstairs.
.
.
Lily was playing croquet, or rather, a drinking game involving croquet, if her shout of "Off with his head!" followed by a shot of Firewhisky was any indication.
"It's meant to be sipped," Draco said. "That's Ogden's Finest, not rotgut."
Her gaze took in his bare chest and lounging trousers and flickered down to his bare feet. She was wearing the shortest nightdress he'd ever seen.
"It needs a chaser," she said. "D'you have any pickle juice?"
"Certainly not." Was that an actual beverage?
"Lemon-lime soda?"
"Doubtful."
Lily shrugged in a way that drew his attention to her low-cut bodice. She chose a hedgehog ball, lined it up, swung, and cried, "Bollocks!" when her aim was off.
He clasped her hand. "Drinking doesn't help."
Her eyes were emerald fire. "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 took her elastic hair bands out of his pocket and slipped them onto her wrist. "I'm bewitched."
Lily stared at the dark and bright blue bands. "Are these . . . ?"
"I took them, like a smitten schoolboy, because I wanted something to remember you by when you left."
"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 self-mockingly. "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."
She reached up and captured his hands. "Let's go inside."
He shook his head. "Hafta clean up."
"The torches extinguish themselves, and the croquet set will survive being left out overnight."
Draco allowed her to lead him into the house, but insisted they go to his room. The east wing belonged to Scorpius and the past.
Lily in his bedroom was a fantasy come true, despite her insistence that he sleep off the Firewhisky, or as she put it, "nap." She opened the green velvet bed drapes and pushed him onto the mattress. He pulled her down with him. "Stay with me." He wrapped his arms around her and shifted position until they were lying on their sides with her head resting on a pillow and his cheek pillowed by her perfect breasts. "Better than any dream."
She caressed his hair.
"Fixed it at a Swiss clinic," he muttered.
"Your hair?"
"Receding. Hated it." He didn't want her to think less of him, but he wanted her to know everything, the good and the bad. "I'm a vain man."
"I'm self-conscious about my weight because I heard Orna Bletchley tell her pals I was a future fatty," Lily said. "I don't go out in public unless I look my best." She 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.
Draco breathed in the scent of Lily's skin and sank into the embrace of his love and sleep.
This time, Draco sat on the train floor before he pulled the Invisibility Cloak off Harry Potter. He said, "Maybe Trelawney wasn't talking out of her arse when she said things come in threes. I don't think you'll see me again. I have something to say, and then I'll be gone." Draco glanced down to collect his thoughts and noticed he was wearing black lounging pants. He rubbed a hand across his bare chest. "This is different. I was a sixth-year in the other dreams. Now I'm an adult."
He leaned over to look Potter in the eye. "You saved my life, saved me and my parents from Azkaban with your testimony. I had a family because of you. I have Lily because of you—and Weasley, of course. I'm grateful for that, more than you can imagine."
Draco blinked back tears. "Merlin, I'm emotional when I drink. No more Firewhisky for me." He took a steadying breath. "Where was I? Right." He told Potter, "I'm grateful, but that won't keep me away from Lily. She means too much, she's everything to me." Draco stood. "I don't expect you to like it, but you're going to have to deal with it."
He was almost at the door when a muffled noise reached his ear. Draco walked back to peer down at the boy who would become Lily's father. "No, I'm not going to kick you." He grinned. "I might be your son-in-law one day."
Draco sighed in contentment and snuggled closer to Lily in his sleep.
.
.
A/N: I've never read a Twilight or Fifty Shades book, but I remembered their authors writing alternate novels from the male love interest's pov, and I wanted to do the same with Draco after writing Lily's pov in Love and Alchemy. The scene in HBP where Draco kicks Harry in the face is such an emotionally charged one, I couldn't help wanting to use it for Draco's recurring dream as he "talks" things out with Harry (and himself!). Since Astoria was so "subversive" :D, I could see her finding Dr. Seuss books in Flourish and Blotts and reading them to Scorpius with Draco listening. The quotes are from Green Eggs and Ham.
I originally intended to write Draco's pov of their relationship and dealing with Harry finding out, but I think the finding out and drama is best portrayed in a multiple pov story that I hope readers will look forward to!