The Department of Oddities and the Unexplained
written by: albe-chan
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction and I do NOT own Harry Potter or any of the characters mentioned, I am making no money from this, and any similarities with real life are purely coincidental. This work will contain MATURE THEMES, such as coarse language, mature subject matter (scenes containing graphic sex, recreational potion use and drinking, nudity, etc.), and/or violence. Please, if you are not over the age of 18, or of majority in your country, DO NOT READ THIS! You have been warned!
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Lily groaned as her alarm went off the next morning, dreading the coming day. It promised to be long, and unpleasant, and undoubtedly spent in the company of her least favourite wizard. The redhead switched off her fervent alarm clock and sat up in bed, rubbing a hand over her face, trying to convince herself it wouldn't be that horrible. She'd get to play at being a Muggle, which was always fun, and expanded her wardrobe choices tenfold, and despite everything she'd read about Whitlock Forrester, she was looking forward to the challenge of stripping the magic from his house. And even if she had to spend a day with Malfoy, that would be alright, because she could probably avoid him with all the work she imagined there'd be. Lily got up, heading for the shower, and squashed the tiny, traitorous part of her that was also the tiniest bit pleased she'd get to play at being Malfoy's wife.
Ten minutes later she was dressed and ready, and told herself again, sternly, the day would be great. They were to meet at the Ministry Atrium for nine in the morning, to take a specially arranged Portkey to the outskirts of London and the mansion they'd be calling home for the next six weeks. She lifted her bag, filled with all the things she reckoned she'd need for at least a month, and Apparated out of her humble one room flat to the Ministry.
Lily wasn't much surprised to find it busy when she finally got to the Atrium, or to see that Malfoy wasn't yet there by the fountain, where a Portkey Official waited, looking bored to tears. Lily pushed a few stray hairs that had escaped her messy French braid off her face, setting her bag down, and glanced at her watch. Still five to nine. By five after, she'd slumped onto the edge of the fountain and felt her impatience growing.
"This guy gonna take much longer?" the Portkey Official asked, looking down Lily's modest cleavage for the twelfth time as he did so.
"I don't know," she admitted. "Probably."
The Portkey guy sighed. "You wanna go get a coffee, doll?" he asked after another long moment. Lily blushed, feeling equally flattered and offended.
"No, thank you," she said primly.
The guy snorted. "Somehow I didn't think so," he mumbled. Lily's hazel eyes narrowed.
"Excuse me?" she demanded, falling back on anger instead of giving in to the urge to let the comment hurt her.
The Portkey guy shrugged, looking bored still. "No offence, lady, but you don't exactly scream 'hit on me'," he said.
Lily glared, looking pointedly down at herself. Respectable mint green button down blouse with capped sleeves that was only a couple sizes too big, well-loved and highly practical, considering her day's agenda, jeans, and her standard black flats. "And what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" she snapped, standing up.
Before Portkey guy could answer, though, Scorpius Malfoy came striding over, looking like some kind of Muggle model with his crisp white button down shirt untucked and the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and fitted, dark wash jeans. "You're late," the Portkey Official grunted to Malfoy. The blond pureblood shrugged, overnight bag slung casually over his shoulder. Lily hefted her large tote.
"Late is merely a matter of perspective," Scorpius said dismissively. The Portkey Official pulled a rubber duck from his pocket, pointed his wand at it, and it glowed a bright blue for a moment.
"Well, you've got ten seconds," he said, handing the thing to them, then looked at Lily, who held the duck by the head, Malfoy holding its tail. "And I meant, undo a couple buttons, sweetheart, and stop scowling so damn much."
Lily opened to her mouth to reply, an insult on the tip of her tongue, even as Malfoy looked at her with interest, but then there was a sharp tug from behind Lily's navel region and she was sucked through time and space, the silly rubber duck guiding her to her latest mission. Her feet slammed hard into the ground a moment later, and Lily's heavy bag threw her off balance and into Scorpius's chest. He caught her lightly, keeping them both upright. "Sorry," she mumbled, pulling back, trying to ignore how good he smelled, and how warm and strong his chest felt to lean against.
"Godric Gryffindor's dirty whore, Potter," Scorpius said. "Trying to jump my bones already?"
The redhead shoved him away from herself as he laughed. "In your fucking dreams, Malfoy," she snarled, and turned away from him. Before her sat a grand old mansion, looking a little sinister in the morning sun, and she set her shoulders, hefted her bag, and marched forward.
She was stopped abruptly after only two determined strides by a strong, iron like hand on her shoulder. "Are you fucking daft, Potter?" Scorpius growled. "That's the best way to get yourself dead straight away," he said, sounding angry, and Lily glared. "Rule one when dealing with Forrester's handiwork. Take nothing for granted and trust nothing."
"Then are we just going to stand here all morning?" Lily snapped, hating that Scorpius sounded entirely logical with that first rule, and that he was probably right, and she'd almost walked headlong into danger.
"First things first," Malfoy said, smirking, and turned around, walking down the drive, past the house. Lily hastened after him. "I'm going to unpack."
Her brows shot up and she cast him a slightly shocked look. "What?"
"Rule number one of undercover missions," Scorpius tossed over his shoulder, still an infuriating half step ahead of her, "get comfortable first, and scope out the job."
Lily stared at him, agape, then realized she'd stopped dead, and hurried in his wake to a little cottage set at the very end of the drive, behind the house. Scorpius unlocked it with a wave of his wand, and Lily followed him over the threshold, braced for the worst. Instead, she walked into a quaint, homey little sitting room, with a narrow stairway to her right and a kitchen through a door across the little room. The tall blond ascended the stairs, his head almost brushing ceiling, and Lily went up behind him.
Panting with exertion a tiny bit after she reached the top of the narrow, steep stairs, the redheaded witch was struck by one startling conclusion. There was only one bedroom in this little cottage, and they were standing in it, because she couldn't fathom anything being beyond the bathroom she could see across the sloped roof room. And in the single bedroom, which seemed to take up all of the second floor, there was only one bed, a large, carved oak number, with a handmade quilt upon it.
"Well this is going to get annoying," Scorpius said, looking at the sloped sides of the ceiling except a two foot strip along the center.
Lily couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from the fact there was only one bed, and nowhere else, so far as she could see, between the side tables, dresser and wardrobe also arranged in the room, for another. "You can have the living room, then," Lily said firmly. Surely they wouldn't be expected, even if they were pretending to be married, to share the same damn bed.
Scorpius snorted. "Not bloody likely," he replied, and moved toward the large bed, dropping his bag upon it. "There is no way I'm sleeping on that tiny excuse for a sofa for however long I'm stuck here with you," Malfoy added, unzipping his bag, moving toward the dresser.
The redhead could only stare. "You've got to be fucking kidding me," Lily huffed, beyond shocked and well into exasperation.
"Nope," Malfoy drawled, not looking at her. "Dibs on the top two drawers," he added, putting his things away efficiently. Lily felt her teeth gritting.
"I'm not sleeping on a couch either, and I'm not sleeping with you," she spat. "Be a gentleman!"
The blond pureblood cast her a disparaging look. "Going to sleep in the garden, then?" he tossed out. Lily's mouth fell open. She'd known Malfoy was a stubborn prick, but this was just downright rude! What sort of wizard didn't offer his female partner the bed on a mission!? "And if you were expecting a gentleman, you're looking at the wrong wizard, Little Potter."
"I hate you," she snapped, and stomped into the little bathroom. Dark grey eyes rolled as she slammed the door behind herself, but Scorpius smirked. The redhead paced, like a caged animal, in the little tiled room with it's clawfoot tub and sleek, pedestal sink, hating Scorpius as she started weighing her options. Her bag sat in front of the door, waiting to be unpacked, and part of her felt the need to do so, if only so Scorpius, the rat, didn't hog all the wardrobe space.
Instead, she ran through her options. Sleep outside? Hell no. She'd probably either get rained on that night, or eaten alive by bugs, even if she could magic some kind of shelter together. Option two, the couch in the sitting room. A better option, but it hadn't exactly looked in the best repair, and she knew, after only a couple nights, her back would be aching. She'd always been a stomach sleeper, at least to fall asleep, and that wasn't exactly easy on a little, questionably lumpy, overstuffed loveseat. She reckoned she could probably turn the couch into a little bed, but she didn't relish the thought of sleeping right there in the front room, either, and possibly being woken by Scorpius. Which left sleeping in the big bed in the next room. Probably with Scorpius. Lily shook her head, because that would be awful, she was certain. She'd probably drool on him or something, or possibly something even worse, like get her period, and she'd die from mortification. And Godric forbid she farted in front of him. No, that simply wasn't an option.
So that left her with one option as she saw it. Convince Malfoy he'd be better off never sleeping remotely close to her. Lily set her shoulders and mouth, hefted her bag, and went back out to the bedroom, then wished she hadn't.
Scorpius was standing in the middle of the room, shirt discarded and tossed casually over the footboard, belt undone, and unpacking clearly accomplished. Her mouth parted as she looked at him for a long moment, struck speechless. Much as she might hate him, Lily couldn't deny, half naked, he looked really fucking good. All long lean muscles across his chest and shoulders, abdominal muscles clearly defined, and she couldn't help but wonder how he was so perfectly golden tan, and then wondered if the rest of him was too.
The blond pureblood looked at her when she finally dragged her gaze up to his, smirking, and Lily's face burned with her blush. "Bathroom free?" he asked, lifting a brow. The redhead, face the same colour as her hair, could only nod dumbly. Malfoy brushed past her, unbuttoning his jeans and making her heart rate kick up despite her best efforts. "You can look for free, but touching will cost you, Little Potter," he added in a teasing murmur, and she blushed even darker, because the gutter portion of her mind, that enjoyed depraved thoughts like touching a shirtless Malfoy, hoped the payment was him touching her.
She seemed to regain coherent thought when she heard the bathroom door click shut, and moved to start unpacking, trying to ignore the sound of the shower starting up. Yeah right, she told herself firmly. There's no way he'd want that, certainly. And as Lily unpacked, finding that Scorpius had actually only used up a small portion of the wardrobe, and less than half the drawer space available, she wondered what the next few weeks, minimum, would be like. Despite being closer to thirty than she liked admitting, Lily hadn't ever lived with a man before. At least, not a straight one.
The redhead knew it was silly, but she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like. Of course, she'd heard the stories from her female cousins who were married, how their wizards were slovenly, sometimes uncouth, housemates, but Lily simply couldn't picture Scorpius like that. Sure, he was a first class asshole and absolute prick, all around, but somehow Lily doubted she'd ever walk in and find him drinking beer in his boxers, belching and scratching his privates. Then again, if she did, she'd probably just commute home every night.
She filled the rest of the drawer space, and wardrobe, trying not to feel pleased the blond had left her just enough space, and moved to sit on the bed, testing it's comfortability by bouncing lightly. She was looking forward to sleeping there that night. Alone.
The bathroom door opened, and Malfoy drawled, "That's my side, Little Potter." Her hazel eyes narrowed.
"No. You're going to sleep downstairs," she said lightly, and then looked up, breath catching in her throat.
Scorpius was still damp from the shower, his blond hair almost falling into dark grey eyes, and wearing nothing except a shell pink towel wrapped casually around his hips, and she couldn't help but admire his perfection once more, while noting his legs, at least, were as golden tanned as the upper half. "Think again, Little Potter."
Lily swallowed thickly trying to ignore the blast of heated arousal she felt, second guessing the sensibility of being on this mission in the first place. She reminded herself she was the best witch for the job, and she deserved a promotion from this, and she could definitely resist Scorpius effing Malfoy, manwhore and prick extraordinaire. "I'm serious," she said. "You can barely even stand up in here. Might as well not risk smashing your head to go to the loo in the middle of the night."
Scorpius chuckled, moving to the chest of drawers. "Regardless, I'm not sleeping anywhere but that very comfortable looking bed, and that's my side," Scorpius murmured. "Besides, the only bathroom is up here. I'd probably smack my head anyway."
The redheaded witch forced a shrug, getting up as Scorpius pulled out clothes, obviously meaning to dress. "Well I'm not sleeping anywhere but here either," she said stubbornly, certain that after just one measly little night, which she could totally handle, Scorpius wouldn't want anything to do with her in bed. She'd been told before, by her ex, she snored loud, and had a habit of stealing the covers. And she intended to make sure Malfoy complained of the same thing, so she could make him see it was easier for him to just sleep in the damn sitting room.
She went to the staircase, and Scorpius snorted. "This is going to be fun," he murmured, almost as if to himself, and Lily looked back at him, blushing when he dropped the towel. He was facing away from her, but seeing his arse, which confirmed her suspicion he was indeed tan everywhere, was enough to have her boiling, bright red again.
"It's going to be a nightmare for you," she whispered, turning away before looking at his very fine naked ass turned into ogling it, and smiled a little to herself.
The redhead checked out the tiny kitchen when she went back downstairs, ascertaining they needed food, and bad, because there was nothing but an unidentifiable container of something in the icebox and a box of instant hot cereal that was two years expired in the cupboard. There was an ancient gas stove that made her feel wary, a big farmhouse sink she loved, despite a good number of chips around the edges, and butcher block countertops. It felt like something her Nan would have, if she didn't have her sprawling farmhouse or so many children underfoot all the time.
The icebox was slightly newer than the stove, but still definitely vintage, and the peel and stick tiles on the floor were rolling up at the corners ever so slightly. In short, it was alright, but she could definitely make it better. She thought fleetingly of the mansion, half terrified of what that kitchen would contain, and swallowed nervously. First things first, she would start on something she was fairly positive wouldn't kill her. Rustling up something edible.
Scorpius Malfoy came down the stairs, changed from the clothes he'd gone out in the night before and hastily tugged on before Apparating into work. Of course, he'd gone home with a delightfully kinky little brunette witch, whose name was definitely either Lisa or Liz, and had a long, satisfying night, not to mention a thoroughly enjoyable wake up call that wound up making him late. He paused at the bottom of the stairs, hearing something that sounded like wizarding radio, and turned to go into the kitchen, then saw Lily at the big gas stove, cooking something that smelled like it was burning.
The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. "What is that Godric awful smell?"
Her head whipped round so fast he was positive she must've cricked it. "Excuse me?" she demanded. Scorpius glanced behind her and frowned.
"What in the bleeding fuck are you trying to cook?" he asked, trying not to cringe at the slightly blackened circles of what he supposed were meant to pass as pancakes. "Please don't say pancakes."
"I'm not trying to cook anything," the redheaded witch snapped, snatching up her wand off the counter. "I am cooking pancakes. This stove is temperamental, so the first few got a little burned, but on the whole, considering what I had to work with, I don't think they'll be all that bad. And if you don't like it, make your own food!"
Scorpius glanced at her bowl of lumpy batter, then at the stove, where she had the gas turned up too high, and shook his head. "Get out of the way, Potter," he said, stepping forward and making shooing motions. "Godric, I never thought a woman with Weasley genetics would be a lousy cook, but there you are," he drawled.
Lily stared at him, mouth parted, and dark grey eyes dropped to the wand she clenched. "I beg your fucking pardon?" she growled.
"Did I stutter?" he said, moving in front of the stove as she stepped aside. "Your mother makes pancakes that taste like fluffy clouds from heaven," he said. "Your grandmother makes everything taste like it's from heaven. And even your cousin Rose can whip up a passable breakfast without burning anything." Scorpius smirked a little, because he hadn't thought about that morning in a long while, and he had to admit, it might have been the best breakfast he'd had from a woman he'd spent the night with and had no intentions of owling or seeing again. He turned down the heat on the stove and looked up at Lily, whose mouth was parted, hazel eyes wide. "What's the deal with you?"
She flinched a tiny bit, then her mouth snapped shut. "Nothing," she growled. "I have a job, and a life, and neither of them involve cooking for assholes," she snapped. "And," she said heatedly, puffing up defensively, even as he reached for the bowl of batter that looked distinctly unappealing, "I had crap all to work with!"
The blond pureblood rolled his eyes. "Then do me a favour and get out of the kitchen, Potter," he said dismissively. Lily's cheeks went red, a sure sign he'd pushed her to the boiling point of anger, and Scorpius felt distinctly amused at how pissed she was that he'd offended her kitchen skills, or lack thereof. "I'll handle this."
Lily stared at the arrogant bastard for a long moment, not only shocked that he was so bloody rude, which shouldn't be a surprise anymore, but also that he thought he could do any better with her poorly Transfigured batter. She set her shoulders and pushed her hair off her slightly sweaty forehead. "Fine," she snarled, and stomped back through the kitchen and sitting room to the stairs. "When you get food poisoning, don't come crying to me, jerk face," she muttered as she stomped up the stairs. She went and took a long hot shower, trying to de-stress already, and felt a sense of foreboding. It had been less than two hours, and already, she wanted to murder Malfoy. How the hell was she supposed to handle multiple weeks with him!?
But she would figure it out. She just wouldn't let the bastard get to her anymore. She could be the bigger person, surely, and turn the other cheek, even when he was being impossibly douche-tastic, and then she'd get her promotion. And it would be worth it, damn it! Hell, it would be a piece of cake! She climbed out of the shower, feeling much better, and wrapped a towel turban style around her head, the way her cousin Rose had taught her when she was nine, then a second around her body.
Lily defogged the mirror, then dried herself efficiently, pointedly avoiding glancing at the reflection of her loathsome belly and what she considered an abundance of extra fat cushioning her thighs. "Bollocks," she murmured, as she reached for lotion and found nothing. She must've put it down in the bedroom and forgotten it. She hurriedly rewrapped her towel, turning herself into a rectangle of shell pink terrycloth from breasts to upper thighs, and marched out of the bathroom to get her lotion, which she was certain she'd left packed in her toiletries bag, and yet couldn't find.
She sighed, spotting it sitting rebelliously atop the dresser, and turned in the doorway and made to go get it, and then Scorpius said, from the direction of the stairs, "Oh, you are done."
The redhead couldn't help it, and screamed on instinct as she whirled around, and then shouted, "What the fuck are you doing!?"
Dark grey eyes roved over her, from head to foot, and Lily couldn't help the gush of arousal as his gaze perused her, then met her hazel eyes once more. "Seeing if you're done trying to drown your sorrows over being a lousy cook. Pancakes are done." The redheaded witch could only blink, heart pounding. "I'll save you some," Scorpius said, smirking the tiniest bit, and then turned and headed back down the stairs.
After a long moment, Lily's brain kicked back into action, face going an ear burning shade of red she was fairly certain might be permanent, and quickly donned her clothes again, feeling awkward. She bit her lip, not wanting to ever go back downstairs and face Malfoy ever again, but she knew there was no avoiding it. So she swirled her damp hair into a bun atop her head, shrugged into a large, oatmeal coloured cardigan that hid her shape and made her feel safe, and then the redhead steeled her flagging courage and went downstairs. She first noticed that the whole sitting room smelled amazing. Like walking into her mother's kitchen on Sunday morning for breakfast. Like hot, buttery pancakes, and coffee, and the tiniest hint of sweet syrup. Her mouth watered traitorously, and then she looked into the kitchen, seeing Scorpius Malfoy sitting at the little table, the Daily Prophet on his lap, eating without looking up from the paper.
Before she could stop herself, the words tumbled out. "How the hell do you know how to cook?"
The blond pureblood glanced up, smirked as his eyes roved down her once more, and shrugged. "It's not hard once you learn the basics," he teased.
Lily felt her temper flare at that, but she couldn't help but still feel embarrassed he'd walked in on her almost naked. And the redhead knew it was something they'd obviously have to address. "Look," she said, moving forward and sitting down across the table from him, in front of a plate of pancakes that were golden and fluffy, "about when you came upstairs," she began and tried not to be distracted by the food.
Scorpius smirked. "Potter," he said, lifting a brow condescendingly, "do you really think I haven't seen my fair share of women in even less than what you had on?"
Her face burned again, and she gulped. "Obviously," she muttered, because he was damn good looking, and she was willing to bet he'd all but lost count of the number of naked women he'd seen. "But still, we're partners, and I'd like to maintain a level of professionalism while we're here," she said firmly.
Dark grey eyes rolled. "Duly noted, Little Lily," he drawled, then looked back at his paper, flipping the page. The redhead grit her teeth, but began pouring syrup on her pancakes anyway. She would simply forget about that embarrassingly little hiccup and move past it. "Besides," Scorpius said, stabbing another forkful of his own pancakes, "you're Al's little sister, and no offence, but even if you were naked, I probably wouldn't be interested."
Lily almost dropped her fork, because that was mean, and she bit her tongue as the hurt burned into anger. Of course not, because I'm not a damn stick. "Good," she replied frostily, and saw his mouth curve up before she dug into her pancakes. "Because even if you were, no offence," she said acidly, "I'd rather cut my right hand off than have your interest, Malfoy." She took a bite of pancakes and held in a groan, because they were warm, and buttery, and fluffy, and almost as good as her Nan's. Hell, they might have even been better than her mother's. "But thanks for cooking," she said grudgingly, biting back the temptation to admit his cooking was actually rather good.
"You're welcome," he said softly, and glanced up as Lily's eyes closed in relish and smothered the foolish urge to grin. "Sure as hell beats starving to death, or having you cook, Potter."
Lily glared, but as her mouth was full, didn't reply, focusing on eating, because she was hungry after skipping breakfast. But she couldn't help, even though she hated herself a tiny bit for it, thinking that it was almost a pity Malfoy would never be interested in her naked. Because although it was stupid, she couldn't help but think that the bed upstairs would probably be just the right size to have hot, wild sex with Malfoy in. She shook her head, sighed softly, and ate with gusto. That's why they make ice cream. She didn't see the way dark grey eyes slid over her once more, and if she could've read Scorpius's thoughts, she would've been shocked stupid, certainly.
Because the blond pureblood, although he loathed himself for thinking it, couldn't help but wonder what had been hidden by that shell pink towel, and think that it was a shame he'd been saddled with his best friend's younger sister as his partner. Because if she'd been anyone else, Scorpius wouldn't have minded at all putting the effort into wooing Lily Potter into bed with him. Because her long, creamy legs, and the soft curves of her modest cleavage had enticed him beyond measure, and he was willing to bet whatever was under her towel would be pretty decent. He shook his head and stared blankly at the paper, telling himself he was an idiot, because even if Lily Potter wasn't Al's little sister, there was no way in hell she'd want to get naked with him. She'd all but said so already. So he'd simply put her from his mind, and focus on the task at hand, his job, and nothing else. And it would be simple, because really, it was Little Lily Potter.
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