This was written in response to Masquerade Doll's "Age is but a Number" and Rosa Clearwater's "Relationship Challenge". It is also a response to the Hogwarts Online January 3rd prompt. Credit to Mew & Mor's Weird Pairings.
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"The answers are always hidden in the past."
OoOoO
It was senseless. In fact, it was more than senseless; it was sheer idiocy and, what was worse, Lucius Malfoy knew it. However, he could no more let her go than he could sever ties with the wizarding world and live amongst muggles. The reality of his situation was that he had feelings for Daphne Greengrass – feelings too powerful for him to repress, as he ordinarily would; feelings that he was entirely unwilling to examine. There had never been a woman like her – or perhaps there had, only he had been too busy furthering his own interests and ambitions to notice.
For years, his marriage to Narcissa had been everything Lucius had ever wanted with a woman. She had shared his lust for power, the need to have more, and Lucius knew that he would never have ascended to such spectacular heights (the Minister's right hand side, and then the Dark Lord's) without her behind him. Only, he had fallen from grace. He had fallen into the fires of hell, and when he had hit the ground, what was left of their marriage had shattered. Without their ambition and their glory, there was little holding Lucius and Narcissa together and so they had drifted apart, together only for the sake of appearances. It wouldn't do for what had once been the premiere couple in Pureblood society to do something as crude as to divorce – at any rate, their family was already in disgrace for having chosen the wrong side.
They had given up their position in the public eye without fuss, and although their roles in influential circles had been rather more forcefully removed, Lucius and Narcissa had agreed to do whatever it was that righted the perceived wrongs of their son in the court of public opinion.
This new plan of theirs, the first that was not directly motivated by personal gain, began with a party to celebrate the graduation of Draco and his classmates. As Narcissa oversaw the preparations, he knew that she was doing exactly the same thing as him: trying not to think of the irony behind celebrating the fact that their children, whose reputations alone would have taken them into the Ministry of Magic, were now disadvantaged because of their background, a background which had once been envied by all who did not share it.
Of course, invitations had been sent to the students from all four of the Hogwarts houses to the graduation party. It was a perfect opportunity to remind whoever cared to watch (and many did, because even though it was voiced with contempt, the name of Malfoy was spoken often) that Draco was very young and, should any of those who had aligned themselves with the side of the Light choose to attend – of which the chance was slim, wraith-like – hint that it was not too late to build bridges between both sides.
The gathering started almost exactly as he had predicted: all of Draco's fellow Slytherins had shown up, with parents if they weren't in Azkaban and siblings if they had any, and most of them had made good use of their lessons on how to behave in worthwhile company. Some still wore slightly dazed expressions, as though they could scarcely believe how desperate their situation had become. It didn't matter that they were stepping into the lavishly furnished Malfoy Manor, or that the ball room had been prepared for the kind of decadent party that most people would only ever dream of attending; they were all desperate to regain whatever had been lost. A few nervous looking students he didn't recognise – from either Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, as Draco informed him – appeared, either from a morbid curiosity or a genuine desire to celebrate – Lucius couldn't say which. When it became clear that Harry Potter and company weren't going to come bursting through the doors, eager to make peace, the food was served.
Narcissa sat on one side, his son on the other, and Lucius simply watched as events unfolded. The meal was sumptuous and the music was tasteful – his household was well versed in throwing such gatherings, bordering upon being iconic for doing so – and it appeared as though the guests were enjoying themselves. Then again, appearances weren't everything. By the time the meal had finished, natural pockets of conversation had sprung up across the room and his guests were mingling freely. Lucius made a circuit of the room, ever a gracious host, and acted as though every word was captivating. He hoped that his performance wasn't frayed around the edges like his wife's smile, but he couldn't quite bring himself to care.
Every time he glanced up at Draco to make sure that his son was fulfilling his duties as a host, the boy was talking to the same young witch. At first, he had prickled with annoyance. And then he had noticed that the guilt that had clouded his son's eyes for longer than he cared to remember had been replaced by what could only be described as curiosity. Lucius didn't have it within himself to remain angry. He slipped out onto one of the balconies to observe the exchange without risk of interruption. Perhaps the war had not only broken him but left him soft. He snorted in disdain.
"Good evening, Mr Malfoy." A female voice caught his attention, and Lucius turned to face the speaker, keeping all traces of surprise from his features. She was tall, slender and clad in a blood-red satin dress that clung to her every curve. Her dark hair was piled elegantly on top of her head. She was almost so striking to behold that he didn't notice the glazed look in her eyes – maybe he wouldn't have if he didn't know that it was mirrored in his own. Belatedly, he recognised her as Daphne Greengrass, a member of Draco's circle of friends and a subject of a few of his anecdotes.
"Miss Greengrass." He nodded to her, secretly grateful that a flute of champagne was already clasped loosely in one of her hands, for Lucius had no more energy for the empty interactions that would ensue, should he return to the ball room in order to fetch her a new drink. He knew that it would be a long, uphill struggle to level his son's playing field. "And how are you faring?"
She shrugged one pale shoulder in a somewhat blasé gesture and ignored the way his eyebrows rose.
"Better than some, I suppose." Daphne turned to face him, smiling without cruelty. "I don't think that it would be fair of me to ask you the same question."
Intrigued, Lucius watched her for a few more seconds. She returned his gaze unflinchingly.
"Tell me, do you know the name of the young woman talking to my son?" Lucius gestured in the direction of the duo in question – Draco was, to his shock and delight – laughing over some remark the girl had made. She looked somewhat mousy in his opinion, despite her glitzy dress and curled blonde hair, yet clearly there was a hidden quality to her that he had not anticipated; she had taken Draco's mind from the war.
"I should think so – that's my sister over there." Daphne appeared unfazed by his surprise. "Her name's Astoria. She's got another year left at Hogwarts."
Lucius was considering how he could tactfully voice the question on his mind with his present companion being sister to Astoria and close friends with Pansy Parkinson. He watched as she took a sip from her drink, and was still in the rudimentary phases of working out a plan of action when she next spoke:
"You're wondering what happened to Draco and Pansy, aren't you?"
"How very perceptive of you, Miss Greengrass," His lip curled as she gave another one of her irritatingly gauche half-shugs.
"It was pretty special, I think, but not special enough to survive the last year. They both need to move on, and to do that they need to leave even the best of what they had behind. He's flirting with Astoria and she's busy draping herself across Blaise. How well do these things really do under that kind of pressure – romances? You'll know more about it than I do." She turned, as though to give him some measure of privacy, and rested her forearms on the marble barrier.
"Excuse me?" Lucius did not like her insinuation. He spoke with an underlying coldness. Understanding his meaning, Daphne twisted her head to look at him.
"Oh, no – I didn't mean to suggest anything. I'm sorry." She flushed with embarrassment, turning once more to look over the manor's grounds. "It's certainly none of my business."
Feeling incredibly foolish, Lucius folded his arms. He had completely given himself and Narcissa away by overreacting to what had been an innocent remark. There were times when he no longer had the patience for the nuances of conversation, and this was one of them.
"No..." He took a calming breath, inhaling her perfume. It was unexpectedly heady, although he pushed the thought from his mind as soon as it surfaced. "The fault is mine, Miss Greengrass; I apologise."
"And I accept, on one condition." The playful charm slipped back into her voice. Lucius frowned, not used to making concessions to anyone.
"Which is?"
"That you'll call me Daphne." She toasted him silently with her glass and raised it to her lips, finishing the contents in one delicate sip. After placing it on the barrier, Daphne turned and swept back into the ballroom in a rustle of expensive material.
For a few moments Lucius remained outside, staring at the red print of her lips that remained on the rim of the glass before the opening bars of the first dance pulled him from his reverie. He returned to the ballroom and located Narcissa with ease, taking her hand in his own and guiding her to the dance floor. It was like magic, but in reality it was a performance made seamless by practice.
"He's fond of the Greengrass girl." Lucius kept his face impassive, although Narcissa's attempt at a beatific smile broadened, becoming more genuine.
"Senior or junior?" It was an unusual question, because Narcissa tended to pick up on all that concerned their son sooner than he did.
"Junior, I believe." Lucius turned so that his wife could see Draco and Astoria dancing behind her. As Daphne had predicted, Pansy Parkinson was entangled in Blaise Zabini's arms, standing indecently close to him.
"Really? Then Daphne's going to be rather disappointed when she realises it's her sister that's caught your eye. That was a cosy little chat you two had out there, after all." Knowing that she had struck a nerve, Narcissa laughed as she twirled, before stepping back into his grasp. They made a highly effective team, and yet only two things remained of their marriage: a mutual desire to care for their son and a never-ending contest of one-upmanship.
"I heard that our dear friend Yaxley has been granted release – it's all very hush-hush. I wonder if Draco knows of it." The threat to shed light upon her affair with Yaxley was enough to silence Narcissa, as well it should be after all of the nights she had spent with him and the money she had used to buy his release.
"He looks happy with her." It was a simple enough statement and, as was inevitably the case, all friction between them was forgotten as the Malfoys mused upon their son. "Do you think it'll go anywhere?"
"It just might – apparently it's been going on for a while now."
"And I can just imagine how reliable your source is. She's over there now – go and dance with her, Miss Greengrass the elder." As the music came to an end, so did their conversation. Lucius bowed to his wife and turned, not bothering to watch and see who she would choose for her next partner (for Narcissa always chose, even if the wizard in question did not know it).
He hadn't actually planned upon selecting Daphne – he didn't especially want to give his wife the satisfaction of being right, even though the idea was tempting – yet she looked so appealing by as she sat alone, observing the dancing couples with disinterest; boredom, even. Lucius told himself that he was doing it out of gallantry, making a beeline for her.
"Would you care to dance?" He paused, uncertain what it was that the next word would achieve. "Daphne, would you care to dance?"
Finally, she looked up at him, affording Lucius the beginnings of a smile.
"That depends on who is to partner me, doesn't it?" It seemed that Daphne wasn't going to toy with him any longer, which suited Lucius perfectly because he was unsure how to respond, as she stood and accepted his hand. Her skin was smooth, and warm to touch.
"Then, if you don't mind me saying so, your acceptance of my offer shows a lack of strategy on your part." Carefully, he placed his hand on her waist and began to lead Daphne around the room. From the offset it was clear that she lacked Narcissa's grace, although she followed the steps with a certain degree of style.
"You mean I should have danced with Boot over there, or Zacharias Smith? Spent the night sampling their limited conversational skills and trying to hint that I'd rather not go home with one of them?" He felt her shake with suppressed mirth and rolled his eyes. Maybe Daphne's reasoning wasn't too far off the mark. "Would you rather I had said no?"
"You make an... acceptable partner." Lucius considered her scorn for her peers, the ones who had chosen the right side, even if they weren't hailed as heroes. "And it wouldn't have hurt you to be seen with either one of them, as well you know."
"You don't really think this can go anywhere, do you?" Daphne's smile slipped and he saw, for a moment, that her fall from the upper echelons of society had shaken her. For a split second he wanted to say no, that a dance between two people meant nothing, until he realised her meaning.
"And what would you suggest?"
"That you do whatever there is left that makes you happy."
Lucius didn't voice the biting reply that sprung to mind; no longer would Daphne meet his gaze, her eyes fixed firmly on the pattern of his dress robes. Beyond power, Lucius didn't know what made him happy. The realisation was harrowing. Marriage to Narcissa had certainly been engaging, and perhaps they had loved one another once, but times had changed and so had they. He couldn't think of anything within his reach that would please him.
"What is it that makes you happy, Daphne?" If she heard the wistful note in his voice, she was tactful enough to refrain from commenting on it.
"Dancing."
When the song came to an end, Lucius didn't loosen his grip on her. They didn't speak again for the remainder of the evening, and he had assumed that that would be it over, finished – a curious interaction with a rather interesting young woman, something to dwell upon during moments of boredom.
He was wrong. Not about remembering her – in fact, he would think about Daphne more than seemed in any way appropriate over the coming weeks – but rather about the idea that nothing further would take place between them. By the time the majority of guests had been shepherded out of the front door, Draco was still deep in conversation with Astoria. They stood together by the bottom of the staircase conversing in hushed tones, oblivious to Daphne, who was clearly waiting for her sister.
Narcissa was in discussion with Mrs Greengrass by the double doors, although both women were doubtlessly watching their children interacting. Feeling that it would be indecent to do otherwise, Lucius joined Daphne at the top of the stairs and observed the scene, trying not to look too closely at the young witch beside him. Although slightly dishevelled, she was no less attractive than before – in fact, her hair had mostly escaped the pins that had been used to style it, and Lucius couldn't help but notice that it softened her features.
"It was a wonderful evening, although I think that you dance better than I do." Daphne fumbled with her flimsy red wrap, her fingers made clumsy by tiredness. The house was now cool, a soft breeze rolling in from the open windows.
"The pleasure was all mine." Before he could over-think the action, Lucius reached out and adjusted her wrap, trying to ignore the way Daphne jumped as his fingers brushed her shoulders. It was something he had done countless times over the years of his relationship with Narcissa, and yet it had never seemed so intimate. He saw that she was blushing and realised that in some ways, Daphne was rather innocent.
"Well I'm glad, because from the looks of things you'll probably have to put up with my company again soon." She nodded towards her sister and his son. (His son who was only a couple of months younger than her, not that he cared to think on it.)
"So it would seem. Goodnight." Lucius watched as she descended the stairs and followed her family out of the doors, pausing to bid Narcissa a goodnight. Neither of the elder Malfoys missed the way in which her eyes lingered on Lucius as she closed the doors behind her.
OoOoO
It was less than a fortnight later when they next met. To be accurate, Astoria Greengrass more or less dragged her older sister through the fireplace and left her staggering on the hearth as she looked to see if Draco was in the hallway. Lucius was surprised to see her, although he shouldn't have been; it was only a matter of time until Daphne was called in the chaperone her sister's date. As far as Daphne chaperoning went, it was understood by all parties she was more or less to sit in the Malfoy home until the date had finished; a ruse that would keep unpleasant any comments about the relationship between Astoria and Draco from being voiced. The older Greengrass didn't seem too pleased with her task, a book hanging from one hand.
Realising that he had been staring, Lucius shook his head slightly, telling Astoria that she would find his son in the gardens. Again, it was understood that the couple would leave the property and go on a date unaccompanied.
"Thanks. See you later, Daphne!" Astoria all but ran from the room, eager to see her boyfriend again. Certainly, her hurry lacked social grace, but it was heartening to see that his son had found such an enthusiastic companion. The same could not be said of her sister.
Daphne held her book to her chest like a shield, arms folded, and would barely look at him. In fact, she seemed to be looking at everything in the drawing room aside from its owner, her eyes darting from one object to the next.
"Mr Malfoy." She gave a jerky nod of her head, and a curtain of her dark hair obscured her face.
"You may address me as Lucius, should it please you." He was struck by an urge to reach out to her, to ask her to dance again so that he could reassure himself that the connection between them hadn't been imagined. No response was forthcoming. "Can I offer you any refreshments?"
"No thank you. Is Mrs Malfoy at home today?" Finally, she did look at him, and he saw that her eyes were guarded. Clearly, Daphne was making a point, one which Lucius understood perfectly.
"She isn't, no. Narcissa has other... pursuits to see to, at present." His wife would be lying under Yaxley and doing her best to block out the bleakness of their world, unless he was mistaken – not that Lucius planned on revealing this to his guest.
"Ah." Daphne nodded again. She looked a little younger without her bold red lipstick. "I see."
"Come to my parlour; it's much more comfortable there." His tone made is obvious that he would brook no disagreements from her. Lucius turned on his heel, pausing only to hold the door for Daphne, who followed him obediently through the house until they reached their destination.
He took his customary seat in the armchair beside the fireplace, and Daphne perched on the edge of the sofa. She looked more than a little uncomfortable, and Lucius was beginning to grasp why – yet, this was not his intent. Lucius wanted to set her at ease.
"You said that dancing makes you happy. What else pleases you?" He watched with interest as she stood and walked to the open window.
"Seeing my sister happy." Daphne looked down into the gardens, and a hint of female laughter reached their ears. Intrigued, Lucius came to stand behind her. Together they watched Draco and Astoria splash one another with water from the fountain. Once they were both suitably drenched, Astoria whipped out her wand and dried them both before allowing Draco a brief kiss. They took hands and walked through the gates of the property, disapparating to an unknown location.
"And does anything else make you happy?" Lucius wanted to know. For some unknowable, impulsive reason, he wanted to see her smile. A smile without irony would, on her lips, be worth seeing, although he couldn't fathom why.
"I'm not sure yet." Daphne turned to face him, eyes widening at their close proximity.
Her breath hitched. Slowly, Lucius brushed her hair back from her face. To his immense satisfaction, Daphne made no attempt to move away from him. Instead she almost leant into his touch, closing her eyes as Lucius continued to stroke her cheek with his thumb, his fingers wrapped gently around the curve of her neck. Daphne was so beautiful before him. Her brown hair had taken on a golden hue in the sunlight, and her pale green sundress accentuated her slim waist whilst complimenting her creamy skin.
Unable to resist or pay heed to logic, Lucius pressed his lips against hers in an experimental kiss. She gave a soft sigh, and it was all the encouragement that he needed to deepen the kiss. Daphne matched his ardour, running her hands though his hair, down his back. Her book fell to the ground, unnoticed. Licking and biting a hot trail down her neck, Lucius tasted the smooth expanse of her skin before returning to her mouth, their kisses growing in passion.
Until she turned away from him. Daphne pressed a restraining hand against his chest.
"Wait, don't! What about your wife?" Lucius wrapped an arm around her waist, knowing that if Daphne left then he would most likely never see her again in private.
"That is no concern of yours; you have my word."
"But it is. Don't you see? You're married, and my little sister is going out with your son." Firmly, Daphne pushed him away. She lacked the strength to move him, but sensing that it would be wiser to allow her space, Lucius took a step backwards. Daphne sank into the window seat, hunched forward.
"And we need not interfere with their relationship. If the idea bothers you – although I fail to see why it should – then I will tell you that only the skeleton of my marriage remains. Narcissa most certainly isn't in a position to object." Sensing that he was taking the wrong angle, Lucius changed tactics. "It isn't in my nature to make any such confession, and yet I am compelled to do so: I find you so interesting, so alluring, and I haven't the faintest idea why -"
"Thanks." Wounded, Daphne stood to go.
"Don't interrupt me again, girl." Urgently, Lucius pulled her against him, not caring that he had snarled at her. "There's precious little that has held my attention since long before the war ended, and I am inclined to explore this... interest. You don't seem adverse to the idea, although your scruples are interfering."
Exhaling slowly, Daphne rested her head against his chest.
"Yes, I'm interested. Okay? But I can't justify this to myself-"
"Then don't." Hungrily, Lucius kissed her once more. This time, he was met with no objections.
OoOoO
Three days later she returned to him (as Lucius knew she would despite the claims she had made to the contrary) at a time when she knew Narcissa had taken his son and her sister into London to get better acquainted with Draco's new companion. Lucius didn't speak when she tumbled out of his fireplace, merely raising an eyebrow when he deigned to look up from the Daily Prophet.
"Lucius, I – I came for my book." She reached up and toyed with a strand of her hair in a fashion that was utterly girlish.
"It's on my desk." He pretended to continue reading the article that had never fully had his attention, but instead listened to the tread of her sandals against the wooden floorboards. Daphne came to stand before him, arm half-reaching for the pot of floo powder when she faced him. "Yes?"
"Thank you for holding it for me." She bit her lip, uncomfortable. Daphne was stalling and they were both aware of it.
"It was no trouble at all. May I be of any further assistance to you?"
"Er, yes – I mean, no. Oh, Merlin..." In one swift motion Daphne bent rather awkwardly over his newspaper and placed a chaste kiss against Lucius' cheek. It was over almost as soon as it began, although the heady scent of her perfume lingered. Lucius could barely keep himself from smirking.
"So you've given some thought to my suggestion, then." It wasn't voiced as a question. Discarding the newspaper, Lucius waited for her to speak. He wasn't going to ask what had brought her back to him, because whatever it was had been strong enough to do so, which was enough for him, at least for the time being.
"Maybe." Daphne perched on the arm of his chair, her familiarity surprising him. However, she brushed away Lucius "But I still don't understand – you're married, married to Draco's mother. The thing is, I like you but I can't help you commit adultery. It's too messed up as it is, what with you being my friend's father..."
"And a confirmed Death Eater." Lucius gave a wry smile, resigned to the fact that it had been a whim – and a foolish one at that – and that there were far too many difficulties to be overcome for him to have a chance of sharing whatever it was that he had been imagining with Daphne. She was a sensible girl, and Lucius couldn't understand why he hadn't seen the whole picture sooner. He felt a stab of disappointment.
"That's not it. Not at all." Daphne wriggled around to face him, and Lucius was obliged to place a steadying hand on the small of her back. "We all did some pretty fucked up things – well some of us did them, and some of us watched without saying anything. It felt wrong, you know? After a while I realised that, once I'd seen what the Carrows were really doing. But I wasn't brave enough to say anything. Once I tried to cast the Cruciatus curse."
Her voice broke, and Lucius recalled how easy it had been to use that particular spell. It had scared him, in the beginning, but he had pushed away his qualms and in the end he had stopped feeling anything as he had watched his victims writhing beneath his wand. It had been a means to an end, until his world had started to crumble. And then it had ceased to make sense.
"Were you successful? Forgive the phrasing." Curious, Lucius watched her. Daphne's eyes were bright, almost feverish.
"No. I couldn't do it."
"Then you have nothing to worry about, do you? Without truly malicious intent, it isn't possible." It was cold comfort at best, he knew, yet Lucius had nothing else to offer.
"Alecto Carrow used it on me when she saw that I had given up." Daphne wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her cardigan. "And then she made me try again. Even though I knew how much it hurt and how wrong it was, I tried and tried again. All I could think of was what if they hurt Astoria because of me, so I did everything else they asked to help them keep the students down."
"A better reason than most."
"And yet it still isn't good enough, is it? So I'm the last person to judge you for what you did." At some point during her anecdote, Daphne had come to rest in his lap. Neither one of them made a move towards the other, each lost in memories.
"I had been referring to the social ramifications, my dear." Absently, he pressed his handkerchief into her hands.
"Oh." Daphne laughed weakly and wiped at her face. "Well at least you know."
"Yes. I know." Prompted by the openness of her confession, Lucius addressed what he realised was Daphne's main concern. "My marriage to Narcissa is dead and has been for quite some time. I wouldn't dream of leaving her, nor would she consider such a drastic route to be an option."
"Right."
"Yes."
"I see."
He savoured the feeling of having Daphne in his arms before speaking again.
"Nevertheless, you should probably go." Lucius cleared his throat, telling himself that whether she chose to obey him or not was of little consequence.
"You're right." Contrary to her words, Daphne remained exactly where she was.
By the time Lucius had managed to bring himself to question her decision, the afternoon sunlight was filtering through the windows. She was sound asleep. Lucius listened to her even breaths, relaxed by how peaceful Daphne appeared to be. It seemed as though her confession had been cathartic. When she woke up, they did not discuss their respective roles during the war, having reached a silent agreement not to broach the topic. And so it came to be, for the duration of the summer, that Daphne would play chaperone for her sister.
OoOoO
Regardless of whatever reassurances he had to offer, it quickly became clear that Daphne was uncomfortable meeting him in the Malfoy family home. Truthfully, Lucius couldn't blame her. On the occasions in which Narcissa had been in the manor house during her frequent visits, Daphne was reserved at best, and silent at worst. It wasn't an enjoyable experience for either one of them. And then there had been that one, heart-stopping occasion on which Draco had returned into the house having forgotten his wand. He had come perilously close to witnessing his father and his school friend locked in the beginnings of an embrace. Upon hearing his son's footsteps outside of the door to the formal lounge, Lucius had reached for the first book that he had come into contact with and started to expound upon the Goblin Rebellion of 1612.
"Father, not even Daphne cares about that stuff." Draco had rolled his eyes in a manner reminiscent of his father and marched from the room, oblivious.
Daphne had been almost as disturbed by the encounter as he had, and so instead of letting her slip quietly from his life (a suggestion she had made that had frightened him, not that he cared to admit it) Lucius had thought of a solution: he had gone to his estate in Kent and had the house elves tidy it up. After he had graduated from Hogwarts, Lucius had lived in the house until his father had died and he had inherited the Malfoy home and fortunes. He hadn't visited it in years – he had meant to in order to prepare the house for Draco, yet with the swift decline of his influence, Lucius hadn't found the time. And now it would be foolish to have his son live elsewhere, vulnerable to the hatred of the wizarding world.
The house was considerably smaller than Malfoy Manor, although it was still grander than most. It had a small orchard and a view which was pleasant enough. He had visited it in the morning to check that it had been restored to a satisfactory degree of hospitability before bringing Daphne to see it. At the time it had seemed more than sufficient, yet now that Daphne's arm was looped through his and the house was facing her scrutiny, he was uncertain. It was a manifestation of the truth that no matter how serious their summer dalliance became, there would never be an official place for her by his side.
Astonished, Daphne stared up at the property before her. Seeing it through her eyes, Lucius couldn't help but be freshly impressed by the Georgian architecture, the character of the building.
"A love nest?" She shook her head slowly, bemused and her chestnut hair rippled in the breeze. "Wow."
Lucius bristled. Love nest, indeed. Logically, her mannerisms ought to annoy him to the point where he would once again contemplate homicide, however he tended to find them endearing, in a perverse way.
"If you must phrase it that way, then yes. Now tell me what you think of it, girl." He scowled, impatient, and the way she continued to smile up at him had caused his frown to deepen.
"Oh, it's lovely." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, turning to whisper into his ear. "Thank you Lucius. Thank you so much."
To his horror, Daphne kicked off her shoes and skipped across the circular lawn, giggling all the way. She collapsed in an elegant heap.
"What in the name of Merlin's beard are you doing?" He followed her at a more sedate pace, waiting for her to get back up. Daphne didn't. Instead, she gestured for him to get down beside her on the ground.
"Sorry." Her tone wasn't apologetic as much as delighted, and Daphne continued to laugh. She brought her hands up to cover her mouth, made shy by his scrutiny. "I'm just so happy."
Unable to bring himself to criticise her behaviour, Lucius simply helped Daphne to her feet. He removed his wand from his cane and with a quick flick removed the blades of grass from her hair, wondering what it was that she did to him.
"Come inside." Taking her arm, Lucius guided her into the house.
Together they explored every room, and Daphne had a spring in her step. They ended up in the living room, Lucius sat on the sofa and Daphne wrapped around him. It had taken a while for him to get used to how affectionate she could be, although he was enjoying the way Daphne tended to stroke his arm as she curled around him. It was pleasant enough that he could overlook the way she sat with her feet tucked under her on what was an antique sofa.
"You realise that we can come here when Draco and Astoria aren't out together." A playful note entered Daphne's voice. She sat up, contemplating Lucius.
"That's true, yes." He kissed her forehead. The idea was extremely tempting, yet Lucius was leaving it to Daphne to instigate anything beyond what they had already shared.
For a moment it seemed as though Daphne would speak, however she returned to her former position by Lucius' side. It was almost as though she was shy. He thought that it would be best to wait until she was ready to raise the subject – retreating from the stresses of his life with Daphne was one of the few pleasures left to him and Lucius wasn't prepared to lose out on it by harassing her about sex. Unlike the young men of today, he had been raised a gentleman. However, there was nothing genteel about his thoughts as Daphne turned and kissed him.
OoOoO
The summer had passed most pleasantly, but it was over. September had arrived and Astoria Greengrass had left to complete her final year of schooling. Their main excuse to see one another was now gone, and Lucius wasn't certain what it meant for him in regard to Daphne. He wasn't even sure how he would describe their relationship; it wasn't tawdry enough to be an affair, nor was it innocent enough to be considered a romance. Although it was still warm, the weather was cooling and the seasons subtly shifting. It could no longer be classified as a summer passion, were it to continue and Lucius found himself hoping that it would.
In many ways Daphne brought him a measure of solace. Her wrongs were but a drop in the ocean, and despite her apparent inability to forgive herself, she didn't seem to hold his past against him. Lucius had tried to point out the hypocrisy of this view point for her benefit – she was much too beautiful to suffer – and had been unsuccessful. At the time he had let the issue slide, opting to bide his time.
It was possible that time had run out, though. Daphne had agreed to meet him almost an hour ago. He dismissed the possibility of her simply choosing to miss their appointment, despite it being the sensible option; she was too loyal (alarmingly so for a Slytherin) to end their understanding, as he had taken to thinking of it, without letting him know.
More to fill the emptiness of the room in her absence than any real desire to drink, Lucius lifted the brandy decanter and poured himself a drink. He had taken his first sip when Daphne spilled from the fireplace in a burst of green flames.
"Sorry I'm late – mum's a bit upset about Astoria going back to Hogwarts, and her visit to Azkaban tired her out." Without asking, Daphne joined him by the drinks cabinet and poured herself a healthy measure of gillywater. "How's Draco taking it?"
"I'm the last person he'd come to for a conversation about how much he misses your charming younger sister, Daphne." He gave her an indulgent smile. "However, if his plans to drink London dry this evening alongside Messrs Zabini and Nott are any indication, I believe that he will be writing her a weekly owl at the bare minimum."
"Hmm. They seem to care for one another, don't they?" And this will always be a secret – he could see the thought passing behind her eyes.
"Quite." They sat beside one another on the sofa, listening to the firewood crackle. "And do you miss Hogwarts?"
"Not the way it was last year. I think that things have changed – it's probably for the best that my year group have finished." Daphne looked down into the contents of her glass as though the imagined scenarios were playing out on the surface. Lucius spoke again, aiming to distract her.
"What do you plan on doing?" It was a deliberately general question, and Daphne was free to interpret his meaning however she chose. Lucius wasn't the type of man to beg her to stay with him, and by learning of her arrangements for her future he could work out whether or not he had a place in it.
"I was going to study potions under Professor Snape." She spoke rather wistfully, unaware of the mixed feelings that she had brought out in him by mentioning his old friend. Severus, who had betrayed them all, or seen the light sooner than Lucius – the answer was not clear to him. It had been he who had introduced Severus to the Dark Lord, and Lucius caught himself wishing that the younger man had introduced him to converse forces. Would he have cared to associate himself with Dumbledore and the like? No, and he wasn't brave enough to spy. But by the end he had been desperate for any way out for his family. "It turns out that he passed on my credentials without me knowing – I got a letter from a witch who taught it at Beaxbatons and she's interested in taking me on. I'm going to Norfolk to meet her next week."
"Excellent." He could see now that there was a new certainty to Daphne and attributed it to her having solid career plans in the making.
"Yeah... Lucius, are we still going to do this?" She didn't flinch under the intensity of his gaze. "It'd be different if we did, I think – not just meeting when Draco and Astoria are going out, but being together because... because we'd want to be, you see? And I'd like that."
"Nevertheless, you should probably go." Echoing their original conversation, Lucius gave her an opportunity to excuse herself from his presence and go. If she did, the time they had spent together would become little more than a dream.
"You're right." Serious, Daphne regarded him. "But I won't. What about you?"
Laughing deeply, Lucius pulled her to him. He kissed her and answered her question without words, again and again; he couldn't leave Daphne if he wanted to.
OoOoO
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