Narcissa was the first one to Floo to Diagon Alley. I gestured for Draco to go next, but he darted out of the room. A few moments later, he ran back. "Here you go, Father." He held a silver-topped cane.

I took it from him with a slight smile. "I would have felt quite underdressed without it."

Draco grabbed a handful of Floo powder and stepped into the marble fireplace, smiling as he said, "Diagon Alley!"

When I was alone, I swished the cane about and tried to twist the top. There was no hidden sword inside, which was a bit of a disappointment. Villains should have better toys. A different kind of villain came to mind, causing me to smirk as I reached for the Floo powder. "Come along, pimp cane. There are people to sneer at and shopping to be done!"

The portal to Diagon Alley was outside the Leaky Cauldron. I found Narcissa and Draco waiting. I glanced at my timepiece. "Do you not have an appointment, m'dear?"

Her eyes darted about anxiously. "These days, I fear it is not safe to leave children unattended."

I answered the way I thought Lucius would have. "Our son is hardly a child, and anyone who trifles with him answers to me."

My family gazed at me with such adoration, it was discomforting.

Narcissa said, "I shall not worry, then." She smiled. "Madam Urquhart's Café in an hour?"

I inclined my head. When she glided off, Draco moved to my side. "Did you mean what you said about my not being a child, Father?"

I studied his eager face. "Yes."

"So you'll let me take the mark early?"

I concealed my dismay. I didn't want this boy to become a Death Eater! Expressionlessly, I said, "No."

Draco's lips turned down.

I recognised the look of a teen gearing up to argue. I tried to forestall a confrontation. "You are of better service at school."

"You always say that."

I did the parent thing and ignored the low, resentful mutter. Striding toward the cauldron shop, I gestured at the display window with my walking stick. "Need a new one?"

"No. I'm not an incompetent like Longbottom."

We passed the Owl Emporium and magical instruments shop. When we strolled by Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, a girl's voice cried, "Draco!"

The boy threw me a look to gauge my reaction before greeting the girl who rushed up to plaster herself to his side. "Hello, Pansy."

"Hello, Draco, hello, Mr. Malfoy," she said while keeping her gaze riveted to Draco's face.

"Miss Parkinson," I murmured, amused. The girl might have a pug face, but at least she had the dogged devotion to go with it.

"You didn't answer my last owl, but I took a chance and made Father bring me shopping today anyway," Pansy told Draco, reaching up to smooth his hair.

His head jerked back.

She said apologetically, "There was a strand out of place."

"Oh. Thanks."

I had an inkling the pair might stand chatting this way indefinitely. I said briskly, "We'd best be off. Enchanting seeing you again, Miss Parkinson."

"I could go shopping with you. I'm sure Father wouldn't mind. I'll run back to the Emporium and—"

"No," Draco said. "Father and I made plans."

Pansy's expression was hangdog. I found myself saying, "We shall have tea at Madam Urquhart's in an hour if you would care to join us, Miss Parkinson."

All smiles again, she squeezed Draco's arm before releasing him. Backing away, nodding, she bumped into a younger girl. Pansy shoved her away. "Look where you're going, Mudblood!"

I didn't care for that kind of talk, but I was hardly in a position to say so. I turned on my heel.

Draco walked quickly to catch up. "I'm sorry, Father. I know she annoys you. If you want, I'll go tell Pansy not to show her face at tea."

I exhaled sharply. "I have no objection to your friendship with Miss Parkinson, and there are those who annoy me far worse. Let us speak no further upon the subject." Peering sideways, I caught the relief in Draco's smile and felt the tug of pity that struck me earlier. He really loved his parents. The kid couldn't be all bad. He definitely needed a girlfriend who wouldn't repeat his mother's pattern and spoil him rotten, though.

Weirdly, Ginny Weasley's face popped into mind. I almost laughed out loud. Molly wouldn't thank me for pink-haired grandbabies. I shrugged off the freakish matchmaking idea and quickened my stride.

"Do you need to make a stop in Knockturn Alley, Father?"

"Not today." I turned into Madam Malkin's.

The proprietor immediately left the customer she was serving to approach us. "Young Mr. Malfoy's school robes are ready, as are the dress robes Mrs. Malfoy ordered. Shall I box them for you?"

"Deliver them," I said. An evening wrap with jet beading caught my eye. I pointed with my cane. "Put that wrap on my account as well."

Madam Malkin beamed. "Yes, sir."

The witch who had been ignored while we were taken care of made an indignant noise when we made to leave. I fixed her with a cool stare. The colour drained out of her cheeks.

Outside, Draco said, "I wish I could do that to Potter, make him look ready to soil his trousers."

"Don't hold your breath." That sounded too Tonks, so I said, "Some people will never back down. The fools will laugh in your face while you curse them." I wasn't only speaking of Harry. Sirius was that way, and I could be reckless like that, too, on occasion.

"I won't laugh if someone tries to curse me. I'll run."

The boy's mumbled speech earned a wry smile. "Self-preservation is part of the Slytherin creed."

Next door, on the pavement in front of Flourish and Blott's, a blind old beggar stood hat in hand. He called out, "Curse breaker I was, until a curse broke me. Help a bloke what's waiting for Gringotts to pay his rightful pension."

Lucius Malfoy would never give to a charity he couldn't write off or garner publicity from, so I reluctantly shouldered my way past.

I felt fingers touch my hair. "Are you a woman or a man?"

Passers-by snickered. Keeping to my role, I extended my cane and smirked when the beggar stumbled and fell back onto his arse. Sickles and Knuts rained down upon the pavement.

Inside the bookshop, Draco finally stopped laughing to gasp, "Good one, Father!"

Stomach twisting with shame, I forced myself to half-smile. "This stick isn't merely for show, m'boy."

"No, sir!"

I strolled up to the counter where the clerk hurriedly finished ringing up a customer in order to retrieve the new schoolbooks. "Here you are, Mr. Malfoy."

I carelessly tossed Galleons onto the countertop and handed the paper wrapped bundle to Draco. "Quidditch Supplies?"

"Yes, please!" he said, grinning.

We retraced our steps. Across the street from Eeylops Owl Emporium was Quality Quidditch Supplies. The interior was plain brick enlivened by posters of Quidditch teams. I asked Draco, "What shall we peruse first?"

"Racing brooms!"

I had to admit envying the boy his collection of brooms. I made do with a Comet Two Sixty that couldn't reach full speed in ten seconds even with a decent tailwind. Draco broke off his recital of all the racing brooms he had been given from first year onward to declare the Cleansweep Eleven tolerable and the Firebolt brilliant.

I agreed about the Firebolt. "Unsurpassable balance," I said wistfully.

Draco ran his fingertips along the polished ash handle. "Turns with the lightest touch. According to Which Broomstick, it's much better than the Nimbus 2001."

If the boy was hinting for the Slytherin team to be outfitted with Firebolts, he was hitting up the wrong father. I said quietly, "Far better than Shooting Stars, I should think."

Draco blanched, obviously picturing the Slytherin team trying to play on decrepit school brooms. "Yeah, Nimbuses are fine."

We moved on to look at the Snitches and a variety of different Quidditch gear before heading to Madam Urquhart's. Inside the pureblood-owned cafe decorated in shades of green and silver, Narcissa and Pansy were seated at the table closest to the front window.

"I took the liberty of ordering," Narcissa said.

Draco sat beside Pansy. "Did you order me a hot fudge sundae with extra fudge sauce and whipped cream?"

Oohhh, that sounded good.

"Yes, darling, along with an apple and stilton tart for your father."

I would rather have had the sundae, but Lucius Malfoy licking chocolate off a spoon was too out of character. I had to press my lips together in order not to laugh at the mental image of horrified looks given Lucius if I took Draco's sundae and licked the bowl clean.

Narcissa misinterpreted my expression. "Was I overstepping myself?"

"Of course not." I smiled briefly, wishing I could actually be Lucius for a few minutes so I could kick my own arse for being a bastard. No man should have his family walking on eggshells and tripping over themselves to please him.

After tea was served, I asked Narcissa, "How was your reading?"

"Fine." She waited for Pansy to become engrossed in telling Draco the latest Slytherin gossip and her son to be occupied with his sundae before leaning toward me. "The crystal showed only dark portents." Her lips trembled. "I'm afraid, Lucius! For you, for our family."

I patted her hand awkwardly. "That crystal reading is only for amusement."

She grabbed my hand, her long fingernails digging into my skin. "She foretold death in my family!"

Narcissa's voice was rising into hysterics. Draco and Pansy were now staring with wide eyes. I said sharply, "Calm yourself! The seer is obviously a grasping fraud, preying on your fears to ensure return business. Trust in me, not some murky vision in crystal, and find yourself another hobby, m'dear."

I could no longer handle the way my family gazed at me as though I were godlike. Standing, I placed Galleons on the table. "I have business to attend. Draco, escort your mother home. Miss Parkinson, a pleasure as always."

"Shall...shall I tell cook to expect you for dinner?"

How bloody sad that Narcissa couldn't ask her husband straight out if he were coming home that night. Thoroughly sick of my role as Lucius, I nodded curtly and strode from the cafe, determined to have the Obliviator plant the urge to spend time with his family in Malfoy's twisted mind.

Before I Apparated to the safe house where the real Lucius Malfoy was detained, I returned to Flourish and Blott's. The beggar was still at his post, his battered hat less filled than it had been previously. Without a word, I dumped the rest of the Galleons in Malfoy's money pouch into the man's hat.

As I turned to leave, I felt his fingers brush my hair.

"Woman," he whispered.

I grinned and kept on walking, swinging my cane jauntily.

.

Remus chuckled when I told him that playing with the pimp cane was the best part of being Lucius Malfoy.

"I suppose he does pimp for Voldemort, in a manner of speaking," he said, soaping my foot.

We were using Mrs. Black's enormous claw foot tub, with Sirius and Buckbeak's permission. Sirius thought it hilarious that a werewolf and a Metamorphmagus would defile his mother's precious tub, and the Hippogriff appeared to find us entertaining, poking his head in the lavatory now and then to squawk a greeting.

I scooted down further into the bubbles and stretched my leg so he could lather my calf. "Malfoy may wonder why he decided to stay home with the family tonight, but he's lucky I didn't mess with his memories any further."

Remus's fingers slid over my knee in soapy circles. "Implanting resolutions to become a better father, or a false memory of giving away his cane?"

I placed my foot on the side of the tub so he could have easier access to my upper leg. "I wonder if there was some kind of Dark enchantment on that stupid stick," I mused, refusing to answer directly. "Bewitching a person to wave it about, feeling all high and mighty and use it to cut the little people down to size."

"Perhaps," Remus said smilingly.

His fingertips were gliding up the inside of my thigh. I decided to forget about everything except my lover. I leaned forward to kiss him.

The outer door to the bedroom screeched open.

"Harry, don't go in there!"

Remus whispered, "Cast a Disillusionment Charm!"

I closed my eyes to concentrate. When I opened them, only bubbles were visible in the bathtub.

In the bedroom, confusion rang in Harry's voice. "I thought you said it was OK for me to come here, that Buckbeak liked my visits."

"And he does," Sirius said heartily. "Today is just...not a good day."

"Why not?"

That was kids for you, always asking why.

After a pause, Sirius said, "It's rather embarrassing, but if you promise not to tell..."

"Of course I promise!"

I wondered if Sirius was deliberately stepping on every squeaky board as he walked toward the lavatory. The half-closed door slowly creaked all the way open. My cousin stood in the doorway and made a sweeping gesture toward the tub. "That's my guilty secret."

"You...you like bubble baths?" Harry's face was contorting as though he were trying desperately not to laugh.

Sirius put a hand over his mouth for an instant before affecting a doleful look. "After Azkaban, do you blame me?"

"No!"

Sirius winked at his captive audience in tub before turning to Harry. "Are you wondering why I choose the old hag's bathtub?"

Harry nodded.

With a wicked smile, Sirius confided, "Because I get to splash water all over her beloved Italian tiles and leave the bath towels on the floor."

"You need two towels?" Harry's green eyes were fixed on the ones stacked beside the tub.

Sirius shrugged. "One's for my hair."

Harry's brow creased. "Where did you get the bubbles?"

"Tonks. She knows I'm partial to," Sirius bent toward the small jug on the floor. "Vanilla."

"Oh. I'll leave you to your bath, then."

"Thanks, mate." Sirius clapped Harry on the shoulder and escorted him out of the room. Within moments, he returned, laughing his head off. "Close call, wasn't it?"

I cupped my hands and threw water at him.

"Hey!" Sirius brushed at the wet patch on his robes. "I save your naked arses, and this is the thanks I get?"

I splashed more water. "Why'd you tell him I gave you the bubbles?"

He stepped out of soaking range. "Was I supposed to say Molly purchased the bubble bath?"

I made a chopping motion with my palm to spray a longer distance. "Harry wouldn't get the wrong idea about you and Molly!"

Sirius barked with laughter. "He's an innocent boy compared to how I was at his age. He doesn't think we're taking bubble baths together." With an evil grin, he said, "Even though there was that memorable occasion."

The water rippled. Remus said, "What's this?"

Sirius leaned against the doorjamb. "Christmas holiday, third or fourth year, I ran off to Andromeda's and Ted's. That night, I was almost asleep in the tub when a tiny tot, with her eyes all aglow, jumped in with me."

I threw a sea sponge at him. "I was no more than two! I didn't know better!"

Sirius chuckled. "I yelled, you cried, and I had to make a beard out of bubbles and answer to 'Ho Ho' before you'd leave me in peace."

I reached for the soap to hurl it.

Remus took the bar out of my grasp and pulled me over to lie atop him. "Thank you for the timely rescue and the story, mate, but why wasn't the door warded like you told us it would be?"

"Funny thing, that. I forgot I told Harry how to release the ward so he could visit Bucky."

I couldn't see my love's face, but I found his lips easily. "M'kay, bye, Sirius," I said between kisses.

"Bye? I can't leave yet. Harry thinks I'm having a bath."

Remus said in a low, growl-y voice, "You don't have to go downstairs, but you can't stay here."

"Why not?" asked Sirius, tongue-in-cheek.

I cast a nonverbal trip jinx. When Sirius fell backwards, I heard Remus whisper a spell that slammed the door shut.

"I know when I'm unwanted!" Sirius yelled. "I'll go where I'm welcome." After a pause, he said, "Do you think Cami's still at the office?"

Remus's hands were sliding down my back. I said, "Yes!"

A few seconds later, Sirius called, "Who were you saying 'yes' to?"

I laughed. "Both of you!"

The rumbles of Sirius's amusement grew fainter as he walked toward the door. "You should have been a Gryffindor, cousin!"

When we were finally alone, I broke the charm and smiled down at my now visible love. "You like me bold, don't you?"

Remus smiled wolfishly. "Yes!"

.

I wasn't feeling quite so bold later that evening when I knocked on the door of Scrimgeour's house. His butler, footman or something ushered me into the house.

"This way, miss."

The home reflected his office, neutral, understated elegance. When I entered the library, Scrimgeour rose from behind the desk. "Do you have it?"

I glanced over my shoulder.

"Stevens is the only servant on duty tonight, and he is much too discreet to linger." My boss smiled. "Lola."

I tossed my blonde hair back. "I figured if anyone has you under surveillance, it's better for Lola to visit than one of your junior staff." I withdrew a small canister of film from my trouser pocket and placed it on the desk.

Scrimgeour made no move to take it. "What did you think of the letter?"

"Honestly?"

He gave a lion-like huff of amusement. "If I wanted someone to say only what they thought I wanted to hear, I would have asked a personal assistant or department head."

"All right. You should consider hiring a bodyguard and..."

"And?"

"And I think you'd make a much better Minister than Fudge."

Scrimgeour waved me to a seat. "I was hoping you'd say that."