Going to lunch with Bones and her sister was not something that Draco wanted to do. There was far too much that could go wrong, and he realised now that he ought to have planned for this contingency.
Bones, however, had been resolute and so he was standing outside Hottie with Helen while they waited for her to sort something out with Granger.
"Is she the same with you as she is with us?" asked Helen as Draco tried to think of how to circumvent any of the problems this lunch might create. He tilted his head to frown at her. "She never…" said Helen before creasing her nose and looking away. "She doesn't care about us anymore. Does she still care about you?"
Bones had taken Helen to meet Draco once before, when she'd been seven. Back then she had been utterly secure in her older sister's love; had accepted it without question as though it was her right and not a privilege. It had made Draco jealous.
He smiled a little bitterly. "I'm not the one who left her, if that's what you're asking," he said.
Helen shoved her hands deep into her pockets to ward against the cold and turned back to look at him. "Wars change people," she said bleakly. "Every year it's like we lose a little more of her. When I come here, Hermione and the twins are happier to see me than she is." She laughed, short and harsh. "The portrait above her desk is happier to see me."
"How long has she been like this?"
Wrinkling her nose again, Helen shrugged. "Since we found out for sure that You-Know-Who was back. She started going this way a few months after that."
Draco nodded. "Do me a favour," he said. Perhaps he didn't know Helen well enough to ask this of her but a direct approach had always worked with Bones and he was hoping her sister would be the same. "Let's pretend for the time being that your sister and I don't have a past."
Helen's eyes narrowed.
Draco smiled at her. "Trust me on this."
"You have a plan," she said.
"Always," promised Draco, and she smiled a more blazingly beautiful smile than Bones had or would ever have.
A few minutes later, Bones joined them, her breath fogging the cool air. "You two keeping out of trouble?" she asked. Her attention was not focussed on Helen as it had been the last time Draco had met her. Now she didn't seem interested in what her little sister might have to say.
"Barely," said Helen, dusting snow-flakes from the shoulders of her jacket.
Bones' gaze didn't leave Draco. She nodded finally; a sharp little nod as though she'd reached some indefinable conclusion. Draco didn't think it had anything to do with Helen's reply. He pulled his shoulders back, letting the corner of his mouth tug up; barely perceptible. It occurred to him a moment too late that Bones didn't remember him enough to remember that that gesture meant a question.
They Apparated to a restaurant of Helen's choosing, and she went to ask for a table. Bones turned to Draco, eyes narrowing.
She wasn't happy about something, and Draco suspected that she'd noticed him manipulating the conversation away from their past back at Hottie. He leant back against the street-lamp, tucking his hands casually into his pockets and smiling at her. His stance was open; elbows out and making eye-contact easily. Usually it made people less suspicious of him.
Bones' mouth twisted in a way that meant her suspicions were not assuaged. "You are gorgeous," she said finally, as though it was an accusation. "But I never told Helen that."
It was not what he'd expected her to say, but his years of being a spy had made him react much more quickly to surprises. He smirked. "Oh, I don't blame you," he drawled, resting a hand against the flat of his stomach and making sure his voice rolled out slow and confident. "If I'd been you, I'd have been telling my sister all about me as well."
That made her laugh; the same laugh she'd had at Hogwarts, all amusement with no bitterness clinging to the edges. Afterwards she looked quite surprised at herself. But she narrowed her eyes at Draco again; there wasn't any suspicion in them now. "You, Malfoy," she said. "Are keeping secrets."
"Yes." Draco dropped the word into the blossoming silence like a dare. "I'm mysterious like that."
It made her laugh again and Draco had to press himself back almost painfully into the ice-cold of the lamp-post to keep from reaching out to touch her.
Then Helen was back, giving Bones an odd look and telling them that their table was ready. Draco was grateful for the distraction.
Helen carried the conversation for the first half of the lunch. Draco watched Bones. Had she been alive, his mother would have been appalled that he left Helen to battle the ever-impinging awkward silence on her own. With Bones so near, he could do nothing else. Though Helen fared quite well on her own, perhaps she was used to it.
"How long have you guys been working together anyway?" she asked finally.
Bones poked at a bit of mushroom with her fork. "Since this morning." Her brow furrowed and she lifted her head to glance at Draco. "Which begs the question really; when we had lunch last week did you know you'd be working with Hottie?"
Draco hadn't known. He was indebted to Theodore Nott for the favours he'd pulled to get the position. Draco did have his own networks of contacts; but Kingsley Shacklebolt was not amongst them. There was no reason to make Bones even more suspicious about his intentions though, so he grinned at her.
"Of course you knew," she said, smiling. She relaxed too, and Draco knew that it was because the situation made sense to her once again. He was meticulous by reputation; she would expect him to look into the head of any organisation that he was planning on dealing with.
Helen pulled a watch out of her pocket and frowned at it. "I'd better go," she said, pushing her half-empty plate to the side. "I'm meant to be getting my textbooks."
Bones waved her away without evident interest, but once she had left, frowned to herself. "Curiouser and curiouser," she commented.
"Perhaps she was tired of being the one to carry the whole of the conversation," offered Draco, feigning disinterest. If Bones was suspicious about Helen's departure, he didn't think a comment from him would lessen those suspicions but it didn't hurt to try.
She didn't seem to consider Helen's behaviour to be linked to him. She actually didn't seem to notice that he was still there. Draco didn't mind. He leant back in his seat. "Would you like me to go now that Helen is unlikely to ask you embarrassing questions about your birthday night?"
That made her lips curve into a soft, warm grin. "Are you planning on letting me get away with anything, Malfoy?"
The banter was so like how she had spoken at Hogwarts that Draco smiled, feeling himself relax for the first time since this lunch had begun. "Would you forgive me if I did?"
Her eyes swept across his face; confusion darkening them briefly. She pulled herself together almost at once. "If you let me get away with things it would either mean that you were stupid or that you thought me so."
"Intolerable," agreed Draco and she laughed, probably because she found stupid people perfectly tolerable.
He kept her interest during the remainder of lunch, and by the time they left her cheeks were glowing softly. He knew better than to help her on with her coat in the front foyer, but she took the arm her offered without seeming surprised.
Neither of them were the type to fill silences just because they existed so, for a time, they walked without speaking.
"Well," said Draco once they were outside Hottie. "I won't see you for at least another few days."
Bones glanced at the building as though surprised to find herself there. "You're meant to be getting files for me," she pointed out letting his arm go and stepping away to turn back and look at him.
He smirked. "You don't expect me to bring them all the way here? Bones, that's what owls are for."
Biting lightly into the fingertip of her glove, Bones pulled it off and tucked it into her pocket. Then she reached out and dusted the pad of her thumb across Draco's eyelashes; fingers so gentle that he didn't flinch.
"Snowflake," she said watching it melt against the warmth of her skin.
Draco reached up to stroke her cheek; his glove was probably rough against her but she leant into it, eyes flickering closed. "If you want to touch me Hufflepuff," he said voice smoky because he'd never been able to control it around her even if he could around everyone else. "You don't need to wait for the snow."
Her eyes snapped open; meeting his in a moment of blindingly brilliant intensity. Then, with a half-turn and a crack, she had Disapparated away.
Draco took a step back, carding a hand through his hair and looking towards the Hottie building. No way of telling whether she'd Apparated there or somewhere else. He pulled his hand back and tucked it into his pocket, smiling wryly. At Hogwarts he'd been the one afraid of touch.