A/N: Thank you again and again for your reads and kind reviews, folks! I'm not updating as much as I'd like to, but your reviews fill me with the warm fuzzies and spur me to carry on, regardless. Hope you enjoy this new chapter.

In the limousine, Draco took a deep breath in. And out. And in. And out. And – well, you get the idea.

Sitting opposite, juggling papers and folders and barking into an earpiece, Will stared at Draco in alarm.

'What's wrong? Do you have asthma? Troy doesn't have asthma!'

Draco knew not of this 'asthma' of which Will spoke, but said 'I'm psyching myself up for meeting Daisy's Mum as Troy.'

Will muted his earpiece. 'She can't be that bad, surely.'

Draco's glowering silence felt uncomfortable, so Will unmuted his earpiece and continued yapping away to some minion from England's version of La-La Land. Draco, looking fabulously, sinfully sexy as Troy in his tuxedo and luscious, gleaming Troy hair, stared out of the window, watching night-time London suburbia swish by.

It's not that he wasn't confident he could pull this caper off. Of course not! Malfoys thrived in high-pressure environment, the likes of which he was just about to enter.

But... you know. Without his wand... or a great deal of exposure to the Muggle world. And without Hermione...

A trickle of traitorous sweat crept down his neck.

Draco clenched his hands into fists. It will be fine. Will won't be far away. And Daisy won't leave my side.

All too soon, the luxurious limousine pulled up outside the Dorchester's residence. Draco could already see anonymous forms peeking from behind neighbourly curtains.

The hired chauffeur opened his door, and Draco's masquerade began. He assumed Troy's wide-eyed and cheerful personality, and prayed to Merlin for all he was worth.

'Dahhhhhling!'

Samantha both gushed and beamed as she flung open the front door to their house. Before Draco could knock. 'So glad to finally meet you at last!' Her arms opened wide, and Draco braced himself for impact.

Her rock-solid nipples were worse than Draco remembered, he winced. This time, she clearly wasn't wearing a bra.

He disentangled himself from her octopus-like clutches and introduced her to Will, who got a good view of the woman blatantly squeezing Draco's arse with both hands. His eyebrows had yet to descend from their heights of surprise at this shoddy show of class.

Samantha had already written Will off as the 'help,' and barely spared him a glance and a cool 'hello' before leading them into the living room, her hips swinging seductively.

Fixing the men an aperitif (a beer) at the 'bar' (the china hutch), she poured herself another 'daily' – a triple-strength Barcelona-style gin and tonic with lemon, rosemary, salt, caperberries and arbequina olives. Once the ingredients, gin and ice were crammed into the glass, there wasn't a lot of room left over for tonic water. Draco's eyes hurt to look at it. He sucked back on his below-average beer with quietly increasing desperation.

Draco's eyes hurt even more when Samantha flung herself into a low, leather swivel chair, stirring her finger through her drink and then fellating it clean. But it wasn't that lewd gesture that had him yearning for his wand so he could scourgify his eyes. Oh, no. The woman was wearing a long black dress with a neckline that plunged to the navel and a long skirt with a split that went up to her hip. When she sat down in the chair and crossed her legs, both Draco and Will could clearly see she wasn't wearing any underwear.

Draco glanced at Will, who was beginning to look rather green.

'Are you and your husband going out tonight?' Draco/Troy asked faintly.

Samantha snorted. Bill was in his study, leering at topless women online. For 'research.'

'No, I'm afraid I don't have plans,' Samantha said with glinting eyes, hoping like mad that Troy would get the hint and invite her along to the BAFTAs.

'Oh,' Draco/Troy mumbled, surprised. 'I must say, that's a, um, lovely dress to wear around the house.'

Samantha looked down at her vast expanse of bared flesh with poorly-disguised surprise. 'What? This old thing?'

She tried to laugh carelessly, but it came out sounding like a backfiring car. It was looking obvious that Troy wasn't picking up the chaperone hint. Maybe that shaved gorilla he came with might be an easier mark?

Will's bow-tie felt rather too tight as Samantha's overly made-up stare zeroed on him.

'And what is it that you do, Will?' Samantha asked between big slurps of gin.

'I... I manage Troy's career,' he replied, clutching his beer like a lifeline. 'Find him opportunities, and manage his publicity, help his career along, and all that.' Dear God, he thought. Out of the loins of this woman came that sweet, star-struck teenager he met at the Granger household?

'Reaaaaallllllyyyyyy?' Samantha asked, like he'd just uttered the most important words in the world. She leaned forward, treating both men to an all-access view of her husband's surgical prowess. 'Well, with your wealth of experience in the entertainment industry, don't you think it's inappropriate that a girl of my daughter's tender years is going to such an event without a chaperone?'

Will and Draco locked eyes while Samantha inhaled more gin.

A sound behind them; and Samantha did her best to look like a proud mummy. 'And there she is!' she cooed, gnashing her molars around an ice cube. 'The lady of the hour.'

Draco and Will turned around, and there, stepping uncertainly down the stairs and into the hallway, came Daisy – a very different-looking Daisy to the one Draco knew. She looked lovely in an ashes-of-roses knee-length dress, with a light and floaty chiffon skirt, a tiny bow at the waist and a lace v-neck bodice in the same colour. Her long hair fell down her back in loose curls, and – since it was Daisy, after all – she'd coloured some of the ends of her hair in different tones of pink. She eschewed the spider's legs that passed for false eyelashes that the salon practically superglued to her eyelids. The overly made-up trout pout that her mother insisted on was replaced by simple, glossy rose lipstick.

Which she was now nibbling a tad nervously.

Draco stood and headed to the hallway. His heart was experiencing some odd emotions. When he looked at Daisy, standing there all shy and beautiful, he felt... he was pretty sure he felt proud. Proud of Daisy at looking so lovely and being so brave to agree to such a madcap caper as this. He swallowed. This is how he'll feel when he has his own children, he knew.

'D-Daisy?' Draco/Troy stuttered, wide-eyed, as he stepped towards her. 'Is that really you?'

Daisy's eyes lit up and she dashed over. 'Troy!' she exclaimed a little too forcefully, wrapping her arms around his waist for a hug. 'I can't believe it's time to go to the BAFTAs!' She spied Will, who was hustling out of the living room and away from her mother, and gave him a hug, too. 'Hi Will!' she grinned. 'Thank you so much for letting me come to the BAFTAs.'

'Well, actually,' Samantha honked, but Draco/Troy got in first.

'A little bird told me what you'd be wearing tonight,' he said bashfully, rummaging around in his pocket, 'and I hope you don't mind, but I would love for you to accept this small token of my appreciation for helping me out tonight.'

Will's eyebrows headed north again. They'd not discussed any sort of gift for Daisy, but the boy obviously comes from the loftier echelons of society, where there were rules that governed this sort of thing.

Draco pulled out a small velvet box and handed to Daisy - whose large eyes were out on stalks - with a gorgeous grin.

'I – er – um' -Daisy's ability to speak deserted her while she fumbled with the lid. But it came roaring back when she saw what lay inside: a delicate chain holding a pendant with two daisies – one with silver petals and one with pink gemstone petals. 'OH. MY. GOD! It's – it's daisies!' she cried, holding the necklace carefully up to the light.

'Sure is, kid,' Draco/Troy agreed. 'Want to try it on?'

'Yes!' she shrieked, jumping up and down before gathering up her hair so Draco could put the necklace around her neck.

'There you go.'

Daisy gently felt the daisies at her throat. 'It feels so light!' she said, awed. 'Thank you so much, Troy. I'll treasure it forever.'

'Hmph,' Samantha sniffed, looking at the necklace through the bottom of her nearly-empty gin glass. 'Quite pretty for some cheap silver and glass.'

Draco, who'd sourced the pink sapphires, diamonds and white goblin gold from the Malfoy vaults, ignored Samantha and pulled out a smaller box from his other pocket. 'I couldn't resist this one, either,' he confessed.

Actually, it was a bloody trial and a half convincing the goblin jeweller to make it, since he'd never heard of this type of jewellery before. In the end, Hermione had to download some pictures from the Internet on her parents' computer and give them to the jeweller – pictures which were received, not with gratitude, but with much whinging and whining.

But the goblin saw Draco's way in the end. After Draco angrily shoved in his long-nosed face ten times the amount of money it would have cost him to make it.

But anyway. The look on Daisy's face – and Samantha's, if he must be honest – would be worth it.

Daisy squeaked with joy when the little box revealed a nose stud in 'cheap pink glass' – aka a tiny pink sapphire set in white goblin gold. 'Omigod! Thank you! I'll try it on right now!' She started pulling her current nose stud out where she stood, until a pointed cough from Samantha made her blush, turn, and take to the stairs two or three at a time.

Samantha sighed with vexation. 'Honestly, a little decorum wouldn't go amiss,' she commented waspishly, even as she set her empty glass on a side table so she could plunge her hands into her dress and hoick up her tits.

Thankfully, Daisy reappeared, quick as a flash, with her clutch, a soft grey woollen wrap, and new nose stud firmly affixed where nose studs are intended to be affixed. 'Can we go now, please?' she asked excitedly.

Oh, dear God, yes, Will thought in relief, but before he could say a word, Samantha's gin-laden voice rang out. 'Justh a moment, please!' she announced, hands on hips, swaying slightly.

Daisy deflated like a cheap air-bed. 'Mother,' she began wearily.

'I'm looking out for your reputashun, young lady!' Samantha snapped. Or tried to. 'You might think ish fine to go gadding about to awards sheremonies with two strange men, but people will talk!'

No prizes for guessing who will talk loudest and longest, Draco thought grimly.

'Mother, they're not strange' –

'Therefore,' Samantha carried on as if Daisy hadn't spoken, 'I inshist – yesh, I inshist! – that I accompany my dear daughter ash her shaperone.' Samantha nodded vehemently. One of her false eyelashes fell off.

Daisy turned so pale that Draco grasped her arm, convinced she was going to faint. And he didn't blame her one bit. Gods, why did he leave his wand at home?

Because - he remembered - if he had it, he'd be too tempted to do something irreversible to this utterly odious woman. He tried to stop his wand hand from twitching.

Will, blessed Will, saved the evening. 'That's been taken care of, Mrs Dorchester,' he asserted, looking her in the eye. The one without eyelashes. 'My assistant is waiting in the limousine, and she will act as Miss Dorchester's chaperone.'

Draco blinked. Unless his assistant was a ghost, there definitely weren't no assistant in the limo.

'Oh.' This time, it was Samantha doing the deflating.

'Why don't you fix yourself a nice gin, love?' This time, Will spoke more kindly.

Samantha thought about it. 'Yeah,' she said thoughtfully. 'Soundsh good.'

She tottered off to the living room, and suddenly, the air was breathable again.

Draco proffered his elbow, and Daisy happily placed her hand on it. 'Do you want to say goodbye to your Dad?' Draco (as Draco) asked. 'He hasn't seen how lovely you look.'

Daisy looked sceptical, but nevertheless headed over to a closed door further down the hall and pounded on it. 'Dad!' she hollered. 'I'm off to the BAFTAs now!'

Draco's keen ears picked up the sounds of rustling from the other side of the door, including something that sounded suspiciously like the clink of a belt. The door unlocked, then opened a sliver, and Bill poked his flushed head out.

'Ah! Excellent! Well done! Well, have a good time, darling! Ta-ra!'

And with an emphatic click, the study door was closed, then locked; and the rustling sounds started up again.

Draco seethed in silence. He should have fucking known.

Daisy, however, was perfectly used to being marginalised by her family, and happily skipped to the front door.

'I'm calling Child Protective Services,' Will muttered as he and Draco followed. 'First thing tomorrow.'

Now, all that was needed was for the well-dressed trio to head down the driveway to the waiting limo. A miniscule task that should take mere moments to complete.

Therefore, Draco was considerably taken aback when, after Will opened the front door, they discovered the Dorchester's front garden to be absolutely jam-packed with people, all of whom started shouting and screaming and pointing and photo-taking the second Draco's tall blonde head hoved into view.

Oh, shit. Draco had almost forgotten about this species of humanity.

Fans.

Will assumed his professional smile and gestured for the pair to step ahead of him. 'Smile and wave, people,' he gritted between his smiling teeth. 'Smile, wave, walk to the limo and for the love of God, don't stop!'

Draco and Daisy's faces metamorphosed from 'stunned mullet' to 'professional model' and smiled and waved at the congregation of mad people. Draco duly smiled and waved at the crowd, nodding from time to time as the following slogans were thundered out:

'It's Troy, it's Troy! Omigod it's Troy!'

'I can't believe it, I'm gonna die, I swear to God!'

'Troy! You have the best arse in all of England!'

Well, he had to agree with that fan. She received an extra-special smile and wink for her trouble.

'TROY! I WANT TO HAVE YOUR BABIES!'

Oh, gods, her again! Hermione had better not hear about this. Or, Draco thought, his father.

Daisy, meanwhile, had truly gotten into the spirit of things and laughed at the whole ridiculousness of it all. 'This is so awesome!' she gushed into Draco's ear. 'It's fun being popular!'

Draco could concede that being popular felt good. He'd been popular ever since he was born. But this level of popular was sheer insanity!

Eventually, the smiling and waving trio made their way down the driveway, and the hired chauffeur (looking formidable in a dark liveried suit, hat and sunglasses - even though it was night-time) helped Daisy into the car, and glared (through the sunnies) with menace at the maddening crowd, daring them to take just ONE step closer, so help him, God.

Just as the chauffeur was checking that all of Daisy's chiffon had made it safely into the vehicle, a horrifying sound rent the evening air.

'OI! WHAT THE BLOODY 'ELL IS GOIN' ON 'ERE, THEN?'

Oh, crikey. The Dorchester matriarch had arisen.

'DAISY!' Samantha slurred from the doorway, which was also conveniently serving as her support mechanism. 'You're not leavin' without me, d'you hear?'

Wide-eyed and desperate, Daisy clutched the chauffeur's hand. 'Go!' she begged. 'Go, go, go!'

The chauffeur touched the brim of his cap. 'Ma'am,' he replied, slammed the limo door, hopped into the driver's seat and legged it.

A/N: It's still a comin,' folks! Thanks for hanging around!