Chapter 2

Minister drummed his fingers on the arm of the sofa. "I vow you delight in disobliging me."

"The moment I decide to issue forth into society, Minister, you will be the first one to know."

"Very well, then. I suppose I am being rather high-handed with you. I will say no more on the matter." The Minister skewered him with a penetrating glare. The man sitting on the opposite chair gazed back, unperturbed.

"Thank you, Minister." With a slight smile, the man take his glass from the table just brought by house elf.

The Potter waved it away. "No, thank you. You have quite ruined my appetite."

Winter in Wizard London was as always busy with parties and balls. Malfoy seemed to find great amusement in watching all the old pureblood families preparing for these occasions. He was sure that despite his reputation of libertine, he was still a good match. As Blaise said his name has still some value in certain circles.

The old woman sitting next to him set down her teacup. "I have a favor to ask you, dear child."

Malfoy braced himself. "And that is?…"

"The last week of this month I am due to visit my grandson at his country estate near Stow-on-the-Wold. I had hoped you would consent to accompany me."

"Accompany you?" Draco raised his eyebrows. He thought, Blaise wasn´t in London on the beginning of the season but in some backwoods. That man was no fun. He gave a sigh.

Mrs. Zabini did not appear to notice. "You make it sound like such a remarkable request. Really, I know of no other person whose company I can tolerate so well as yours."

Draco swiveled around in his chair and look out of the window so that the old crone could not see his scowl. "How long will you be staying, madam?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Oh, a week, at most. I would consider it a great favor to me. Blaise is convinced that I have become completely addled in my old age and that it is high time I settle down in the dower house and stop making a fool of myself. Stop making a fool of myself, indeed! I shall need your assistance in reasoning with this young idiot."

"And what about you will have an argumentation?" He asked carefully.

"He has social obligations and responsibilities here in London. Surely you understand these duties."

The young man considered the remaining liquid in the bottom of his cup. Spend a week in one of settlements Zabini´s family aroused his curiosity. Theirs properties were immense thanks to Blaise mother and even Draco did not visit all of them. His jaw tightened.

"Blaise is proud man, he will not take it well if you force him to do anything, madam."

"Yes, but that will not prevent me from trying. It´s time to behave as a Lord."

He raised his head. "If you believe my presence will help, then yes, madam. I will go with you."

The old witch beamed. "It will be a week you will not soon forget."

Malfoy smiled back. "Oh, I am certain of it."

Stifled a yawn with the back of one elegantly manicured hand. Here he was, town was frightfully thin of company, and would be for the next two months. The majority of its inhabitants leave for London. Recent bouts of inclement weather had kept him from his regular afternoon flying. The manor had its musty atmosphere and staying there for next two months won´t make it better. If he did not soon find something with which to divert himself, he would surely run mad.

At the moment, his interesting prospect lay in a mysterious tattoo on his left hand. It still bothered him but it did not seem to have any other effects on his life. He tried to remove it with all available appropriations, but it was not enough. He hoped that it was not mark of some crazy Dark Lord who claimed him as his follower. The idea of Dark Lord of Love amused him but only for moment. He really did not want to kneel before some crazy man. Only the idea made him want to vomit.

He got a message from his grandmamma. She had written to him a few days ago, saying that she would be in Stow-on-the-Wold and needed to meet with him on a most urgent matter. Blaise flicked a glance to the clock that ticked contentedly away on the marble mantelpiece. Nearly half past three. She was due at any moment.

At precisely half past three, a house elf announced the arrival of his Grandmamma Lydia and Draco Malfoy. He welcomed them in his manor. And let house elf to show them their rooms. His grandmamma was eighty-four year old and she was no longer as agile, physically or mentally, as she would like to society to think. And after journey she needed a rest. It gave him opportunity to speak with Malfoy alone.

Draco climbed to his feet just as Blaise marched into the study. "Good afternoon, Blaise" he drawled, making a slight bow.

"Draco, I had never thought to see you in Stow-on-the-Wold in the Season."

"I know," Draco replied, his face haggard. "But circumstances dictate otherwise." He looked hard at his friend, then arched a blond, quizzical brow. "My dear friend something must be very wrong, indeed. You look as though you need a drink." Whatever had happened, it was something that did not bode well.

Blaise crossed to the sideboard, uncorked the decanter, and poured two bumpers full of amber liquid. He handed one to his guest. Then he lowered himself into one of the two high backed plush chairs that flanked the hearth.

"I assume your rather unsmiling demeanor has something to do with your message," Draco prompted, settling himself into the chair opposite his host.

Blaise stared into the depths of his brandy, then regarded his cousin with somber dark eyes. "There is more things to solve. The first one involves my grandmother."

"Ah." Draco settled back in his seat and savored a sip of his drink. "What is Great-Aunt Lydia up to now? Another good match for you?"

He made an impatient gesture. "She gets more difficult with every year," he grumbled. "At first I thought it was a result of boredom, but I vow she has become as eccentric as Dumbledor. First her voyage to France, then to Hungary, then to Romania …"

"And now?" Draco prompted.

The host thrust a hand through his black hair. "I feared this might happen. I shall be blunt, Draco. Grandmama is no longer in complete possession of her faculties. Non compos mentis."

The cousin frowned. "How can that be? I saw her a year ago Christmastide and she appeared right as rain."

Blaise sipped his brandy. "I believe she is in good physical health," he admitted, "but her judgment is not as it should be. Look at the company she keeps these days… artist and poets most of them are muggle-lovers. Few year ago she would not lay a hand on one of them. And then there was that flight with an airplane, and now-"

"Just what are you saying?" Draco demanded. His cousin's words struck a chord of alarm.

Blaise's mouth thinned. "She is choosing a wife for me. And she thinks that she finds the right one." Draco was amused. Blaise seemed to be hysterical about marriage issues. Blaise´s mother could be blame for this. Indeed her all husband died mysteriously and Blaise simply did not wanted to end as his father and step-fathers.

"Whatever gives you that idea?"

"When Grandmama returned from Romania, all she could talk about was a certain Mrs. Bagshot, a widow, she had met during the voyage."

"A widow," the Draco mused. "Do you know anything about her?"

Blaise took a long pull of brandy, then made a face. "I did some checking up on this woman, and you will like what I found even less than I did. She is a grandniece of Hepzibah Smith."

"Merlin."

"My thoughts exactly. And it gets worse. Five years ago she married a grandson of Bathilda Bagshot . A very wealthy Octavius. On further investigation, I discovered that her jointure was relatively small." His lips twitched.

"She has enough to live comfortably, but hardly in the manner to which I'm sure she has become accustomed. Then just a few days ago I received a note from Grandmama, saying that she find her suitable for me. She want me to meet her."

"And you obviously rejected her wish." Draco guessed.

"Of course that I have rejected. I think this Mrs. Bagshot is egging her on, taking advantage of her lessened mental capacities." He began to pace around the room.

"You owe me a favor, Draco, for the incident with these documents. I am here to secure your help." Blaise leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees and an intent, angry light in his eyes.

A muscle flexed in the Draco´s jaw. "What would you like me to do?"

"I pray you do not take offense at this but I believe we have need of your particular… talents."

"I am man of many talents, Blaise. It depends, what´s your plan."

"Seduce her, then abandon, give her a love potion, if you have to. Use anything to make a scandal which give my grandmother such a disgust of this woman that she'll never want any further contact with her." Blaise declared.

"Blaise, I don´t know that you could be such a heartless man." Malfoy said with a mocking voice.

Blaise swirled the brandy in his glass, then shrugged. "A marriage is not my cup of tea and never will be. And who knows what Grandmamma might try to do? Merlin, knows I don't want a scandal on my hands."

"And I do?" Malfoy asked him.

"You are scandalous every time when you stick your nose out of your manor." Blaise snorted. "It will not hurt your already twisted reputation."

The Draco rolled his eyes. "I will think, what I can do for you."

Blaise took his hand and shook it gratefully. "I am counting on it."