A/N: I promise there'll be some hint of a plot in one of these at some point. I want to write how Draco proposed "for real", maybe something to do with their actual wedding, and then I already have some stuff vaguely drafted of Evie going to Hogwarts. All of this fluff is just nice for a breather from some of my heavier projects. I hope you guys don't mind!

Flufftober 2022 - Day 6 - Candles, lanterns, and fairy lights.

[Set soon after the end of Little By Little]

When Draco got home one late summer evening to hear classical music (romantic strings, no less) blaring from the top floor of the house, he thought little of it. He lived with a ballerina. Plus, when Marilyn had the house to herself she always preferred to use speakers rather than earbuds, citing a need to hear it if, quote, some mad serial killer broke in. Of course, she'd usually then add that any who did would be so captivated by her dancing that they'd relent and decide to let her live after all. As if adding that joke would distract him from the very real fear that lay beneath her choice.

The Notts had indeed left their scars. So much so that Draco did not point out that if she could not hear them over earbuds, she'd likely not hear them over speakers. It mattered little, anyway, for nothing would get through their security. The measure was very much for peace of mind - like keeping all limbs beneath the covers so no malevolent supernatural forces that may or may not exist could get to them.

Shrugging off his blazer, he made his way up the first set of stairs, and then halfway up the second when he paused. No light streamed towards him from beneath the door. Draco paused, frowning. The music was playing, but if he concentrated properly he could hear footfalls - the thud of her pointe shoes against the wooden dance floor he'd installed as she leapt and jumped. Marilyn had her quirks, but dancing in the dark would be strange even for her.

Adopting a newfound level of care in his actions - primarily because if she was doing anything strange and embarrassing, he wanted the pride of witnessing it before she knew he was there - he turned off the light in the hallway so it wouldn't give him away, and then slowly turned the door handle that led up to the top floor. Moving in sock clad feet (a habit transferred over from Marilyn's old Muggle home), he padded up the stairs, wincing slightly at the sheer volume of the music. The whole place was soundproofed so that they'd never have to deal with angry neighbours, but that could do nothing to save his eardrums now.

As he moved up the stairs, he could see that the room wasn't in darkness at all, it just wasn't lit in the way he'd grown to expect around here. Reaching the top of the stairs, he kept to the shadows at the far side of the room - his side of the room - and watched. Marilyn was dancing, and she was doing so by candlelight.

More tea lights than seemed safe surrounded the edges of her dance floor, broken up by the odd hefty pillar candle, casting her side of the room in an orange glow that flickered whenever one of her movements caught an errant flame. She had, thankfully, pulled the curtains that separated the two sides of the room up and out of the way, and once Draco was content that he wouldn't soon be dousing flames, he was free to watch. And what a sight it was.

She looked like a Veela. Usually the rehearsing he caught glimpses of was all business - gym gear, hair scraped up, going over the same four moves over and over and over again until she was satisfied. It was still novel to watch, but it wasn't…this. Her hair was down, spilling about her in curls thanks to the bun it had been forced into for much of the day, the golden colour of them catching the candlelight and shining brilliantly in response. The clothing she wore moved similarly - white ballet slippers, white tights, a white leotard, and a long white chiffon skirt that floated around her form with every spin, kick and jump.

Draco had never much been one to consider himself lucky. Not only because his luck had hardly been great in the past, but because when things did go well, he'd been inclined to view it as what he was owed. At first because of who he was, and then because of what he'd been through. His views on whatever future marriage he might enter into had always been much the same…back when that was a hypothetical matter. He knew his worth on the marriage market (as his father so romantically referred to it), and if he made a good match it would be because of that worth. It would be someone worthy of him. Luck had nothing to do with it.

It reflected just how much everything had changed over the last couple of years that, as he stood there watching Marilyn, luck was what he felt above all else. Well…maybe second only to love.

The moment was ruined, though, when upon her next spin she caught sight of him - her head whipping around as she jolted in fright, ruining her momentum and sending her sprawling down onto the ground. Draco's fast reflexes with his wand made sure she landed on a giant conjured pillow, and not the hardwood floor. The idea of a late-evening trip to St. Mungo's was not one he particularly relished. A second wave of his wand put an end to the music, right in time for him to hear the blonde breathe a soft 'motherfucker'.

"Hello darling, it's lovely to see you home in one piece, I missed you terribly. Oh? All of these candles? Just a little Thursday night blood sacrifice, not to worry," Draco teased.

"If you're going to mock me, you could at least try not to sound so posh. I didn't go to Eton."

"I should think not, it's a boys' school."

"I hate that you've lived amongst us long enough to correct my very clever references," she sighed "Hello, my most favourite husband, thank you for the heart attack, I kind of sort of missed you. Vaguely. For a brief second. As for these candles, it's work related."

Draco stifled a laugh, unsure as to whether he liked that fact more or less than he enjoyed the idea of her simply doing this for fun when she had the house to herself. Stepping carefully over a cluster of tea lights, he extended his free hand to help her up, vanishing the cushion once she was safely on her feet once again.

"There's a bit of a trend at the minute, where every so often a company will put on a spell of performances - if you'll forgive the terminology - where it's all done by candlelight. A nod to how it was when ballet first started-"

"And how it still is, in my world."

"It's also a break from all of the harsh stage lighting. You don't realise how different it all is without it. They want to do one next month, and I was curious to see the effect. Suppose I got a bit carried away."

Draco cast a wry look at the candles all around them - so great in number that any cathedral would be envious. It was only outdone by Hogwarts' great hall, but he had to concede that Marilyn had no levitation tricks at her disposal, so they weren't on very equal footing.

"How long were you watching, anyway?" She asked, tilting her head up at him.

Smirking, he ducked his head to press a kiss to her lips "Long enough to want a ticket to this performance. Can you make it happen?"

She flushed, smiling as she breathed a laugh "Of course. So long as you help me blow all of these out."

"After one more dance."

"One more dance?" She raised her eyebrows, but was already flexing her feet against the floor as he moved away from her dance space once again, signalling her willingness to comply.

The music resumed with the wave of Draco's wand, and she began to dance once again - perhaps even better now for her awareness of her audience. Certainly more provocatively, her movements adopting a more languid quality to them. She'd never much been one for bashfulness. They had that in common.