"Muggle clothes," was all I'd tell Mathilda about what we were doing for Valentine's Day lunch. Well, technically, since the 14th itself was on Monday, we were leaving Hogsmeade on Saturday to celebrate. I'd warned Remus what we were doing, and our friends knew we were going to London. With my enchanted rings for sending messages, we'd be pretty safe, right?

Sure, it was kind of risky with vampires and Death Eaters after me, but this was the first Valentine's where we'd been really serious, and she'd already treated me to an excellent lunch for my birthday, so I wanted to do something nice. Hopefully being in the middle of the day in an unpredictable part of London would help a lot.

"We aren't going into the Alley… Oh! Muggle clothes!" Mathilda exclaimed when I led her out onto Charing Cross Road out of the Leaky Cauldron after we flooed through from Hogsmeade. It was pretty cold in London, and cloudy, but the sidewalk was clear enough for a short walk. She looked nice in clothes that were probably a bit out of date, but at least didn't stand out the way some purebloods did when they tried to dress themselves in muggle clothing. And who was I to judge trendy?

"We're going to Trocadero Centre. It should only be half a mile," I explained, setting off in what I thought was the right direction. I had the atlas my godmother had given me to identify raths which had a decent enough zoom in on the streets of London, so I knew I needed to cut through Leicester Square, and the whole place was optimized for tourists anyway.

Which was good, because we were going to the most internationally touristy restaurant I could think of.

"Myrddin mawr!" she gasped, seeing the Planet Hollywood before us. "Is that where we're going!?"

The kitschy restaurant had only been open since the past May, but I figured that was just long enough that, only trying to go for lunch and on one of the least touristy months of the year, we had a pretty good shot of getting a table. Sure enough, the delay wasn't too bad, and Mathilda was thrilled to spend it checking out the movie memorabilia they had placed around the waiting area.

And, while it was trendy and cool, it was still really just an upscale burger bar, so I figured I should be able to afford it.

Our table was in a section that was decorated with props from what looked to be various B movies, and we discussed them as table conversation while we waited for our order. We'd moved on to looking at a glass-encased knife and ripped bikini that was labeled as being from a movie I hadn't heard of, Blood Beach, which had a signed photo beneath. "Looks like it was taken here," Mathilda observed.

The background of the photo was, in fact, the wall we were sitting next to, with several tables pushed together to seat a party. While the handsome dark haired man and beautiful woman posing up front in the photo were unfamiliar, one of the guests in the back was. "I think that's Thomas Raith, from the Malfoy party," I pointed him out to her.

"Could be," she squinted. "I didn't get close to him. Someone your godmother was talking to?" I carefully failed to shake my head, which she knew to take as agreement past my geas, and she suggested, "I can see a family resemblance between him and the other two."

Assuming wizarding purebloods would have a pretty good sense for when people looked related, as the waitress dropped off our food I gestured at the display and asked, "What's the deal with this one? I haven't heard of Blood Beach."

She tried to hide a faint eyeroll and said, "You wouldn't have. It's not even out yet. They were in here last month doing a promo tour, and screened it for us. I don't think it's going to win any awards. That's Darby Crane and Lara Romany," she explained, able to parse the signatures. "He's the director, and was kind of a creep, honestly. She's pretty, but she probably isn't good enough to make it in Hollywood."

"And the guys in the background?" I asked.

"Family and friends? Crew?" she shrugged. "I don't remember them being in the movie, so I don't think they were actors. They were all very cute. Good tippers, especially that one," she gestured to Thomas and got a dreamy look in her eye. "Anyway… do you need any more condiments?"

After we assured the server everything looked fine and started eating, Mathilda had a look in her eyes like she was thinking, and eventually offered, "I might have actually heard of it. You know how I mentioned the Malfoys produce movies? So we see them to make sure they don't break the Statute? I remember Uncle Abraham mentioning there was a new one. But then it turned out it wasn't really about magic at all. I think it was this one."

I thought back to Raith's warning about Mavra, and my godmother mentioning he was a Malfoy cousin. "I think we should finally ask Draco about this whole White Court thing…"

After finishing lunch and doing a bit more tourism in the muggle side of London, that's what we did next. We managed to catch sight of the smallest Malfoy later in the afternoon in Hogsmeade as he was heading into the bookstore. In there, his little bodyguards (who were starting to be not so little) would wander off and amuse themselves with coloring books or something, allowing us to have a private conversation. Tactful as always, Mathilda sidled up to him and asked, quietly, "So you're a vampire, Draco?"

The boy turned and didn't seem surprised to see both of us. "I thought you'd ask about that months ago," he drawled.

"Other things kept coming up," I shrugged. "We just remembered because we saw a picture of your cousins Thomas, Darby, and Lara at lunch."

"Blood Beach?" he asked. We nodded and he complained, "I don't know why father funded that. Guess it was part of whatever was going on at New Year's. I hear it's terrible."

"So implied the waitress," Mathilda admitted.

Draco regarded us both for a minute, probably calculating whether it was worth it to try to bargain for the information vs. staying in our overall good graces by offering a freebie. He finally decided on the latter and explained, "I'm not a vampire. As far as I know, the Hunger—that's what they call it, capital H—eats all the magic in your soul, and uses it to provide the powers."

"Like werewolves," I nodded.

"Could be. Anyway, our line are basically vampire squibs, from their point of view, which meant we could be wizards. The families broke off centuries ago, but we've kept in touch. I don't think any Malfoy has been White Court ever since."

"Doesn't really sound like how vampires are supposed to work," Mathilda wondered.

"More like veela, really," he admitted. "That 'Hunger' is basically a bonded spirit that gives them strength, speed, that kind of thing, but they need to drain emotions from people to feed it. The Raiths are the most powerful line, and for them it's a whole sex thing. Our ancestors were more about fear."

I'd check that all out with Bob later, but wondered aloud, "So… with the Unseelie Accords now in effect, could your family claim membership in the White Court, even though they don't have a Hunger, when it was legally useful?"

Draco grinned like a little baby predator, gave me a slightly patronizing pat on the back and said, "Harry Dresden, we'll make a politician of you yet."

He took his leave and Mathilda sighed, "Guess that's what the Malfoys are getting out of siding with your godmother. Do dragons get special privileges? I have to tell my dad to get in on this."

"It would explain why Mr. Ferro was at the party," I thought out loud. "There may be a lot more political ramifications of this than Bob thought…"

She frowned and asked, "And they're still mostly out? Signing the accords didn't include opening the Veil?"

"I don't think so."

"Then they're probably not even done yet," she concluded.