November 2008
Wizarding London, England
Ministry of Magic of Great Britain
Office of Magical Law Enforcement, Auror Department
Friday
"Oh, thank the gods!" Narcissa exclaimed, startling Draco and Lyra out of each other's arms. "I was so worried about what I'd find when I got here. Honestly, the media in this country. Bored and uninspired are the words that come to mind," she complained. "Draco, my love, don't just stare at me, show Lyra to a seat. We have a lot to discuss."
Draco turned his head to Lyra who had a shocked look on her pretty face. He could tell she was nervous. He didn't want his mother scaring her with all this.
He put a hand on her lower back reassuringly and guided her to a chair. Before she sat he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "This is just to get ideas." He pulled a chair up to sit closely beside her and put a hand on her knee under the table to remind her she wasn't alone. Were it up to him, she'd never be alone again.
"Well. First things first," Narcissa said lowering herself into a chair across from them. "You two have decided to present yourselves as a couple, yes?"
Draco looked to Lyra, letting her take the lead. "Yes," Lyra replied softly, the heat rising in her cheeks.
"I'm so happy! What a lovely picture you make, not to make light of present events," she chirped excitedly. "I mean, truly. The contrast between the two of you aesthetically is just stunning. Light and dark. Tall and short. Good and evil-"
"Draco's not evil," Lyra protested.
"I know that, darling, but to the press and to the public he is. That, unfortunately, is the Malfoy brand," she said with a shrug. "I know it sounds bad, but it's little more than a perceived contrast that makes your relationship more compelling. It will be important in getting people on your side."
"Why do we need people to be on our side? This has nothing to do with them," Lyra stated forlornly.
"You're right, it doesn't, but that's never stopped anybody before. Once the trial begins and everything else comes out people are going to start editorializing and we have to steer what they conclude. Are you two imbalanced people thrown together by trauma or a couple that has known each other for years and was reunited by terrible circumstances who have chosen to make something beautiful out of it," Narcissa explained.
"How the hell are we supposed to do that? I don't even know which one of those is true?!" Lyra exclaimed.
"By presenting a strong united front," the blonde witch replied.
"Ok, but who really gives a damn what people think of us?" Lyra pressed.
"The Wizengamot might. The solicitors arguing for your father might," she retorted, looking over to her son. "People love scandal. They love distraction. When the time comes for the spotlight to be on Lucius and all of the terrible things he's done, the last thing you want is for people to be dreaming up salacious gossip about what you two are doing behind closed doors. Tell them, control the information and be done with it."
Lyra inhaled warily, looking over at her boyfriend(?) who seemed maddeningly unperturbed by all of this. "Ok, go on," Lyra said.
"If you let me, I'd like to get an interview set for the two of you. They provide more nuance than a press statement and do more for likability. Essentially, it will give you more privacy and yield a better result. Would you be willing to do it?" Mrs. Malfoy directed at them both.
"Only if she wants," he answered.
Narcissa looked at Lyra expectantly. She sighed and warily nodded her head.
"Great. I'll reach out to Griselda Figg at The Prophet. She covers education typically. She's not a society reporter likely to go for the most divisive bit of gossip she can dig her claws into. She's a good writer and she's very skilled at conveying the emotions of her subjects," Narcissa explained. "I think we should do it at the townhouse. Sit the two of you down on a couch, perfectly styled of course, and have you spin things in your favor. You two tell a very sweet story in your own right. It's the kind I would read."
"What do we say? I mean, how much of our lives do we have to put on display so people can get a warm and fuzzy over their morning toast?" Lyra questioned miserably.
"Probably not as much as you think," Draco said to her. "People don't care about words, they care about the feelings the words create. If we can generate the right feeling during the interview, it sounds to me like this reporter will run with it and do the talking for us."
Narcissa beamed at her son proudly. "So clever," she chirped.
"I don't know how to generate a feeling," Lyra mumbled, looking down at her lap.
Draco brought his hand to smooth over the back of her neck. "That's not true. Plus, you won't be alone," he reassured her.
She nodded, but didn't look convinced.
"What specifically are you nervous about?" He asked.
Lyra blushed, not wanting to get into it in front of Narcissa.
"Sweetheart, if this is going to work, we need to talk about it," he pressed.
"Just that I'm...you know...American and crass. I'll come off like a phony...in your perfect sitting room with my accent, trying desperately not to say fuck while I'm dressed to the nines," she explained.
Draco laughed and Lyra pinned him with a hard stare.
"I'm sorry, love. I'm not laughing at you," he said rubbing her back gently. "Alright, some idiots out there might have a problem with you being a foreigner, but those people are wankers and will always find something to complain about. It's not about you. It's about them being miserable cunts," he explained.
"Draco!" Lyra and Narcissa reprimanded him at the same time.
"What?! My girlfriend is crass, which means I'm crass too," he replied.
Lyra tried her hardest to retain her look of offense, but she couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face.
"Baby, there's crass and then there's...the c-word," she said to him.
"You mean, cunt?" He questioned.
"DRACO!" Lyra and Narcissa shouted him down again.
"I was wrong before," Lyra said looking at Mrs. Malfoy. "He IS kinda evil."
"Yes, I'm aware," Narcissa retorted with a narrow look at her son, who was grinning happily at the feather-ruffling he'd just afflicted on his two favorite women.
They talked awhile longer about the interview. In light of the impending weekend, they decided to put it off until Monday.
"It's important, I think to give some kind of confirmation today. Like a simple yes or no. A press statement is too clinical and given the way the story broke, a visual indicator would be more effective," Narcissa mused.
"I am not going to stand in the street and make out with your son in front of the press," Lyra fired, looking over at Draco who just shrugged. "No! That picture from Wednesday only worked because we didn't know we were being photographed. I am not going to just give them that. That...it's ours," Lyra said quietly.
Draco's expression softened at her words. "You're absolutely right," he said contritely, squeezing her hand.
Narcissa widened her eyes in surprise. That was an atypical response for Draco, to say the least.
"Well, maybe we could stage a date," the blonde witch offered.
"I can't. I have to go out to Heathrow today to pick up my dad at six," she explained.
Draco looked down at his watch and saw that it was after two. "I imagine you'd like to change, so that really doesn't give us much time. Not to mention that I'm hardly dressed for the camera."
"No. I've already prepared for that," Narcissa explained placing her handbag on the table. "I've everything you need. For you both."
Draco and Lyra looked at her like she was crazy.
"What?! I just wanted to be prepared, like I said," she explained sweetly.
"So what?" Lyra asked. "Draco and I are going to get all pretty and..."
Narcissa inhaled deeply, preparing herself for the impending argument. "And then you leave together ensuring you are seen. The atrium is still crawling with photographers..."
Lyra looked as if she'd been slapped. Draco groaned.
"It achieves our goal and it's the fastest way to see it done. Walk out, leave through the visitors entrance, go out into Muggle London and put her in a car for Heathrow," she reasoned to her son.
"I mean, can we just die instead?" Lyra mused sarcastically, which Draco didn't see the humor in, given that they both had just nearly died.
"Ugh. I don't want to do this," she pleaded to him.
"Then we won't do it, but understand that if we did, it wouldn't be like this morning. I'd be with you the whole time," he tried to soothe her.
"Do I have to talk?" She whimpered.
"Not unless you want to. If anything needs saying, I'll do it," he replied.
Lyra leaned forward on the table, burying her blushing face in her arms and reluctantly nodded her assent to nobody in particular.
"I know how hard this is for you, dear. It will take ten minutes of your time and send exactly the message we want," Narcissa said, running her hand over Lyra's dark head, looking up at her son who gave her a small nod.
"Do you want me to do your makeup for you?" Narcissa offered, wondering if it would help.
Lyra peeked her head up from over her arms. "Can you charm my eyelashes long like yours?" She questioned softly.
Narcissa smiled. "Of course I can."
The blonde witch threw open her spelled handbag and started pulling out clothes, cosmetics and jewelry enough to outfit a chamber choir.
She directed Draco to a black on black suit that looked uncomfortably similar to the one he had worn the night he attacked her. He saw Lyra eyeing it warily and looked back to his mother. "Needs color."
"Hmm, I think the effect would be better without, but if you must, add some green. It looks good on you and won't surprise anybody," she replied dispassionately.
She brought Lyra several options all in varying shades of white or cream. She helped her into a form fitting sheath dress in downy white. It had a stylish boatneck and from the waist down had a spattering of small glinting beads that increased in density down the skirt which terminated at her knee. She paired it with a white jacket of equal length that had an interesting diagonal zip. She put her in emerald drop earrings and pinned a brooch to the jacket. A diamond fox with emerald eyes.
Lyra laughed down at the glittering animal.
"What's funny, dear?" Narcissa inquired, sitting her in a chair and covering her with a drape to begin her makeup.
"Oh nothing. It's just, my patronus is a fox. So, needless to say, I like the pin," she explained.
Narcissa paused, looking down at her fondly. "So is Draco's."
"It is still?" Lyra asked, feeling strangely smug that it hadn't changed.
Narcissa nodded at her with a small smile and began her makeup. She gave her smokey eyes, which made her irises look like amber, popping dramatically out of her face. She kept the rest natural, gave her a subtle pink lip and charmed her eyelashes like she'd promised. She pulled her hair back into a simple french twist and stood back to admire her work.
It was about that time that Draco walked back in to the library, after his mother banished him so she could work on Lyra. Draco and Lyra locked eyes with each other and were both struck dumb. He was in black with dark green accents on his wrists, pocket and tieclip. He looked mouthwatering...and dangerous.
Lyra looked like an angel with butterscotch eyes. She glittered in white with emerald accents and looked like a gorgeous, high society witch, only better because he was in love with her.
"Wow," he said awkwardly to her, causing her to blush.
"You look hot," she said with her typical brashness.
He laughed and leaned in to kiss her but was stopped by the bothersome meddling of his mother who chastised him with a line about messing up her lip tint or some other rubbish.
"Ok, stand next to each other," Narcissa chirped, pushing them together. "Oh my goodness! You two look perfect. It's perfect. Ready?"
Lyra stopped ogling Draco and jerked back to attention. "What now?!"
"Well, yes. That was sort of the point," Mrs. Malfoy offered gently.
Lyra exhaled nervously. "Yeah. I'll have to stop by and tell Kingsley. Could we have Blaise escort us out? He cleared a path for me this morning and I'd feel safer with a quick wand out there since this dress is so tight it'll take me a minute to get to mine," she directed at Draco.
"Anything you want, Sweetheart," he replied seriously.
Narcissa levitated everything back into her purse and kissed them both on the cheek before leaving to floo home.
Draco turned to Lyra and settled a hand on her waist. "Are you sure about this?" He asked.
"Hell no. But I trust your mom." she said to him, trying to control her fidgeting.
He pulled her to his chest suddenly and nibbled on one of her ears, causing her to gasp and melt into him. "I'll go first, I'll be right there. You stay behind me, alright?" He said to her before leading her out of the library into the corridor.
She looked up at him and nodded before stopping him. "Wait. What do I do with my face?"
He laughed. "Just what you're doing," he replied amused.
"Are you gonna do your Draco scowl?" She asked.
He grinned. "Most definitely."
"Oh...should I do it?" She asked innocently.
"I don't know if you've got the stuff, little tart like you," he teased.
She rewarded him with a mighty scowl and he kissed her on her forehead before leading her on.
"I stand corrected," he conceded.
They made it to the common, causing the room to fall silent when they entered. Shacklebolt was there talking to Colin. He looked up at them and balked. Lyra dropped Draco's arm and walked over to him.
"Do you mind if I go out to the wolves and then take off to get my dad? It's Narcissa's idea. We're going to let them get a few snaps and follow it up with an interview on Monday to get ahead of the bullshit," she sighed. "But if you have any piece of scrap paper that needs filing or a cobweb that needs cleaning, or an impossible suicide mission that needs raiding, just let me know because I can totally stay," she said to him with a desperate look in her eyes.
"Go on then," he said warmly before leaning into her. "You look stunning...and so does he. Chin up. Give my best to your father," he said with a reassuring squeeze on her arm.
She smiled timidly up at him. "Oh, would you mind if we borrowed Zabini for an escort? This dress is so damn complicated, my wand is like...in my back right now," she explained.
"I'll do it," Harry said from behind her.
She turned to look at him severely, but said nothing.
"I want to do it," he said walking up to her. "I was awful to you. I'm so sorry, Lyra. Forgive me," he pleaded to her in a subdued whisper.
"Do you think I'm a slut?" She asked him at conversational volume.
"Of course not."
"Are you going to let Ginny keep her earrings?"
He sighed. "Yes."
"Are you going to keep calling my boyfriend a rodent?"
"Wha...well, I mean...probably?" He replied honestly, knowing she wouldn't likely believe he'd stop.
"Good. That was a trick question. And when he really is being a rodent, I encourage you to feel free," she replied, looking over to Draco who was comfortably out of earshot.
"Thank you very much for that," Harry replied in genuine relief.
"Are you going to let us help you with your inquiry so you can keep your job?" She asked.
Harry balked at her, confused. "Why would you do that? Why would he do that?"
"Because I'm your friend so I'm going to help you and I'm his girlfriend so he's going to help me," she replied plainly.
"Ok, yes," he answered.
"Then come on, what the hell?! I don't have all day! These thirsty reporters want a piece...and ohmygod Harry I'm so fucking nervous right now I might puke on you..." she fired out in a rush.
He laughed. "I will allow it. This one time." He steered her back to Draco who simply raised a snotty eyebrow at him in greeting.
"Right, I'll lead you out. Lyra, you let Malfoy take the hits, yeah? His skull is thicker." Harry bit out with a smirk at the scowling blonde. Lyra squeezed into Draco's side and tried to hide her trembling, but gave a weak little nod at her friend.
Harry turned and led them up the stairs into the horizontal lift that would bring them to the atrium. As they traveled, Harry watched Malfoy mutter reassurances to Lyra, keeping her close to him at all times. He had to hand it to him, she was in a better state by the time the doors opened.
Lyra saw the press right away. There weren't so many as before but there were still about fifty people waiting to flash their cameras and fire off their insulting questions. Fuck every one of these fucks, Lyra thought to herself. They stepped out of the elevator and she vaguely heard the first of the reporters shout out to them. She looked up at Draco and saw his face, schooled hard as stone, into his trademark scowl. She took a deep breath and did her best to keep her face looking unconcerned.
They rushed in on them like a plague of locusts. Lyra did as she'd been told and kept a half pace behind Draco. She held his hand in a white knuckle grip and had her other hand on his bicep to ensure they wouldn't be separated. The reporters were mostly calling her name, trying to get her to engage. She heard one of them ask her what it felt like to be fucking a war criminal.
"How dare you talk to her, you filthy slime!" Draco fired haughtily at the greasy, red-faced reporter who'd asked the question.
"Why don't you let her speak for herself, Mr. Malfoy? Hey there, Beauty! Blink three times if he's holding you against your will!" The reporter shot back.
Lyra eyed him and dived into his mind immediately.
Blimey, she is gorgeous. I can't believe that Death Eater scum gets inside her. Wonder if Gerrit could drop his camera and get a peak under that dress for us...
The reporter leaned over to whisper something to his pudgy cameraman who smirked and gave him a nod. Oh great, Lyra thought. The photographer made a dramatic move like someone had knocked into him from behind and let the camera fall from his hands, sending it on a trajectory that would have it landing right between Lyra's white pumps. Since she was anticipating it she swooped down and caught it clumsily with her free hand. The shutter went off, but didn't capture anything as it was crushed into her side with her forearm.
She smiled shyly and handed it back to the man. "I hope you're alright. That could've turned out bad for both of us," she said sweetly, before pinning the reporter next to him with a steely gaze. The men sputtered out some awkward thanks, and backed off.
She tucked herself back into Draco, following him and Harry through the crowd to the Red Telephone booth that would lift them out into Muggle London. As they moved, she could hear the word American being hissed around the throng of reporters.
After the altercation, Lyra felt fine. These were just people. I mean, some of them were awful, creepy people, but she dealt with those people all the time in her work and she could handle it. She lifted her head, made her eyes smolder like warm honey and did her best pretty peacock for the cameras.
As they reached the telephone booth, Draco passed her off to Harry who ushered her inside first. She pecked him on the cheek and smirked at him, as if they hadn't just had a huge fight. "Thanks, man!" She whispered to him.
He laughed. "Anytime," he replied as Draco pressed past him into the booth.
Harry shut the doors, locking her and Draco inside.
She waited for a moment before looking up at him. "So, let's never do that again," she said as the box started to rise, leaving the chaos below them.
He looked down at her, giving her an amused smile. "No argument from me."
"Did I do good?" She asked him expectantly.
He brought his hands to her waist and pulled her towards him. "You were brilliant. What was up with that cameraman?"
She launched excitedly into her story about the pervert reporter and his creepshot henchman. Draco, understandably, found it less amusing than she did.
She was so into her story that she hardly noticed when they reached street level. He ushered her out and guided them towards the high street for a cab.
"Oh," she said sadly when she realized it was time for her to go to the airport and time for him to go off and do Draco things.
"Are you trying to say that you'll miss me?" He pressed.
"I'm trying to say that we look like sexy salt and pepper shakers right now and I'm sad to bust up your mother's carefully crafted look," she quipped, pulling him towards her by the lapels of his jacket while he hailed her a cab.
"Why don't you and your dad come have dinner with me and Scorpius on Sunday? When he finds out the truth he'll probably want to punch me, but I have a feeling he wouldn't clock me in front of my own son," Draco reasoned as a cab stopped in front of them.
Lyra sighed, "I can't make any promises about the face punchings, but I'd like that."
Draco opened the door for her and paid the driver to get her to Heathrow. He turned back to his witch and kissed her soundly before helping her into the car.
"I guess I'll miss you a little, she said, through the open window.
"I knew it," he said with a wink at her as the car pulled away.
Author's Note - Thanks so much to Shhh. I'm an alien for your awesome review. The drama between these two isn't done. Not by a long shot, I can tell you that. Thanks to everyone for reading. Please follow and review, I love the feedback! -MM