Chapter Seventeen: A Long Night

Rose leaned back on the park bench, enjoying the warmth of the summer sun. Raising her face to the sky, she breathed deeply, reliving the night before, the fear and anxiety she felt in Malfoy's room, the aggravation of having to break the news to Draco, and finally the freedom of leaving those oppressive stone walls and escaping into Knockturn Alley.

She couldn't help but stop a moment outside Alex's old shop, bowing her head briefly at the empty window, and cursing every Death Eater to ever walk the planet, but most of all, Voldemort. If not for his war, this would never have happened. She sighed deeply, reminding herself that she would find a way to kill him. Lucius Malfoy was already planning to contact Alex. Perhaps she could persuade him to release a bit of information. Anything to assist her in ending the Dark Lord's life.

Right now, that was Alex's single purpose: revenge.

Rose, on the other hand, was spending her day off relaxing in the park, feeding the ducks and watching the carefree muggles play. The Daily Prophet hadn't exaggerated about Mab's Cauldron. It was fantastic. Before the sun came up, she had danced with at least a dozen different gorgeous wizards and a few good-looking witches, had way too much to drink, and even played wand-tag in the basement. She had gotten her butt kicked thoroughly by people much younger and more enthusiastic than she, but had had an outrageously fun time, anyway. She had even made it back to the manor in time to run baths and fix breakfast for the boys, then took a short nap before venturing out again.

Today, she was paying for it. Those youngsters from the club had probably gone to sleep for a few hours and awakened fresh, bright, and beautiful this morning, but all the hangover cure in the world couldn't completely erase this headache, nor could restoratives make her feel any less like a lead weight.

As loathe as she was to admit it, she was getting too old for that kind of party, and she should really stick to her policy of not drinking...ever.

She chuckled as two children played at sword-fighting along the water's edge. Leaning in to catch their words, she recognized quotes from a recent pirate movie and smiled.

Maybe she'd take in a movie before heading back to the club tonight. Of course, tonight, she was just going to stick to the restaurant, have a nice dinner and maybe spend some time with someone closer to her age, maybe with blonde hair and broad shoulders. She sighed in defeat.

Someone like Lucius.

What was she going to do about him? There was no way that she could continue to resist his advances, and incorrigible as he was, he would certainly continue to make them. Perhaps he felt that she owed him for rescuing her. She shook her head at her own ridiculousness. He wasn't the type. Unfortunately, he was the type to relentlessly pursue his goals.

There has to be some way to divert his attention, she thought, listening to the birds chirping away in the trees, her eyes drifting closed as she considered.

To the owner of the golden Celtic torque,

While I am impressed with your gardening skills, one cannot be rid of a weed by cutting away the plant. It will invariably grow back. I can help you strike at the root. If you are interested, contact me.

With peaceful intentions,

The former owner

Lucius Malfoy, satisfied that Alexandria would remember the torque he had given her and understand the metaphor in the message, secured the scroll to his owl with a letter to his personal contact at the Daily Prophet (which Severus assured him that Alexandria read) ordering a full-page advertisement in tomorrow's edition. It was the kind of bait Alexandria couldn't refuse, a chance to kill Voldemort, however slight, would convince her to at least send a reply. Then, perhaps he could convince her to meet him someplace neutral to discuss an alliance.

After much consideration, Rose decided to forego the club for a good night's sleep. Stealing into the manor and closing the door as softly as possible, she slipped up the stairs with all the stealth of an experienced thief. Glancing to the right, she noticed a light in the office and sighed heavily. Great. Someone had lit a fire and forgotten to extinguish it. The office would be a furnace by morning, and with the mood the Lord of the manor was in, he'd probably blame her. Rolling her eyes, she swung into the room.

Lucius, sprawled on the sofa, looked up from his glass and glared at her with bleary eyes.

"Oh!" Rose yelped in surprise. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were still up."

Quickly, she stepped back out of the room, but not before he could speak.

"You look wonderful tonight," he drawled, his voice thick from too much wine.

Rose looked down at the simple blue shift that she wore, and back at him. Perhaps he was a fan of simplicity.

"Come and have a nightcap with me," he said, drawing his wand to conjure a second glass. It was a testament to his skill that he managed it, inebriated as he was.

Rose cleared her throat nervously. "I really shouldn't, sir. I have to get up early and..."

"Just a glass of wine, Rose. I want to talk to you," he insisted.

She bit back her argument and stepped forward. "Alright, but after that I have to go."

Lucius smiled, the unguarded grin of someone who's had far too much to drink.

Rose filled his glass, poured one for herself, and moved to sit down.

"No, not there," Lucius argued. "Come and sit with me on the sofa", he said, shifting his long legs out of the way.

Carefully gauging his level of intoxication, she did so. This was an all-too-familiar scenario. She remembered a scene much like this one above Alex's shop in another time, another life.

At least he was drunk this time.

"You look lovely," he reiterated.

"I'd return the compliment, but I'm sure you're fully aware of how perfect you look." She smiled sweetly.

"Then , why do you sleep on the other side of the manor?" he questioned petulantly.

"Because I don't care to complicate things," she answered honestly. "And because I'm in love with another man. I've explained this to you."

"Your other man doesn't seem to be aware of your feelings, or he doesn't reciprocate them. I, on the other hand, have offered myself to you, yet you refuse me."

"So, if I can't be with the one I love, love the one I'm with?" she asked with a smirk.

"Excuse me?" Lucius asked, blinking hard to clear an obviously muddied wit.

Rose sighed. "Nothing. It's an old muggle song." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "I think you're oversimplifying things."

"I think you're just being difficult," he retorted, scowling as he brushed a piece of lint from his trousers.

She slid forward on the sofa and brushed the hair out of his eyes, remembering the first time she'd ever done so at Nina's. She missed those days, missed her shop, missed Severus so much she wanted to cry.

"I also think that something else is bothering you, Mr. Malfoy."

"I'm fine, Alexandria, just exhausted."

Rose's attention snapped instantly into sharp focus. What had he called her? She peered at him closely. He seemed no different than he had a moment before, still gazing at her with glazed-over eyes.

She released the breath she had been holding. It was obviously just a slip of the tongue.

"I'm not Alexandria, sir. I'm Rose," she said carefully. "Isn't she the woman who killed your associates?"

"Alexandria," he repeated slowly, speaking the name like a spell. It gave her chills. "A former business associate - remarkable woman. She wants us all dead, even me."

Rose smiled. "Must have been one hell of a business, sir."

Lucius put a finger to her lips. "Language, Rose. You're as bad as she is sometimes. It makes me want to stop your mouth with mine," he drawled, leaning forward to demonstrate.

Rose halted his progress with her hands on his shoulders. "I think we should get you to bed, Mr. Malfoy."

He blinked, then nodded sleepily and she walked him to his room, her arm around his waist. When they arrived, he allowed her to remove his waistcoat and shoes before crawling into his magnificent four-poster.

"Good night, sir."

When she turned to leave, he seized her wrist roughly and she winced.

"Stay," he ordered, voice just barely cresting a whisper, yet still so full of authority that she hesitated to argue. "I don't want you to leave."

"You're drunk, Mr. Malfoy," she explained patiently. "You don't know what you want."

He let out an uncharacteristically frustrated groan. "I have never been that drunk. I know what I want. I know what you want, and I am out of patience with you. Stop fighting me."

Rose hung her head and sighed. She was a bit out of patience with him.

"Alright," she said softly. "I'll stay."

Heart fluttering wildly, she slipped in beside him and lay down, running her fingers through his hair soothingly. "You're right, Mr. Malfoy. I do want you."

"My name is Lucius," he whispered, drawing out the hiss at the end of his name like a serpent and kissing her gently.

Her resolve was crumbling. "I know. Go to sleep, now, Lucius."

But, he didn't. He continued to kiss her more and more deeply, exploring slowly, until her will dissolved into nothing and soon she was returning his kisses with fervor, tugging at the layer of fabric that still separated them. He pulled her to her knees beside him, his mouth never leaving hers, allowing her to remove the offending piece of cloth.

In the lowlight of the of the single lit sconce, she could see the strength of his body. He was beautiful, perfectly exquisite, and she wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anything: wanted his power, his strength, his will, wanted to take them inside of her body and make them her own, make him her own.

But, he'll never allow himself to belong to the maid, reasoned the still-functioning part of her brain. Alexandria, perhaps, could possess him, but not you. Now, stop this. You'll only regret it when he sneers at you in triumph tomorrow.

She tried to listen, tried to pull away, but he was strong, much stronger than she and her dress was over her head and on the floor before she could protest. She pushed him away. He pulled her closer, raking her back with thick nails. With the pain, inevitably, came pleasure, and she moaned in defeat.

Tonight, he would have her. Tomorrow, she would accept the consequences.

Guiding them both back down, he covered her body with his, falling hair forming a curtain of palest silk around their faces. She whispered her desire as he began a fevered exploration of her neck and shoulders with his mouth, searing her flesh with the heat of his kisses. Rose writhed with pleasure at the intensity of his touch...but the intensity was dying. His touch became lighter, his kisses slower until suddenly, they stopped.

Rose looked down as a heavy weight sunk into her chest. It was Malfoy's fair head, his cheek resting between her breasts. She ran a hand through his hair uncertainly, questioning, and he didn't respond.

She chuckled lightly at the irony.

Lucius was asleep.

Nine hours later, he awakened with the hangover from Hades. A dreary, gray light streamed through the window, but seemed unbearably bright. Hoping to darken the enormous expanse of glass, he reached for his wand - and panicked.

It was gone.

Sitting up as quickly as he did caused his head to begin pounding and his stomach to swim dangerously. What had happened last night? He tried to think, but his mind was an impenetrable fog. He started simply.

What day is it? He checked the calendar hovering above his writing desk. It's Monday.

Something was very out of place for a Monday. He squeezed his eyes closed, wrinkling his forehead, but it only made the pain travel from his head to his face. He reopened them quickly and the room tilted causing his stomach to swim again.

What he needed was a steaming cup of tea to clear the fog from his head and a hangover cure to stop this incessant pounding and bring back his powers of recollection.

That was what was missing. There was no bath drawn, no pot of tea, no breakfast, no hangover cure on the bedside table.

Where the hell was that maid?

He reached into his trousers for the summoning stone and stopped before he reached it.

The maid.

He had a vivid memory of waking up in the dim light before dawn with his arms wrapped tightly around Rose's waist, his face pressed into her chest. Beneath him, she slept fitfully, whispering unintelligible words. He shook his head lightly to clear away the strange dream, then retrieved the stone and called her name.

Two minutes later, he called again, more insistently this time. Where was she? The summoning bracelet was cursed to begin burning the wearer after the third call, and she hadn't taken it off. Only a Malfoy could remove it. Rose knew this. Why would she wait?

Before he could call a third time, the maid appeared at his side in her dressing gown, rubbing her eyes and yawning widely.

"I'm sorry, sir. I was asleep," she said groggily.

"Asleep?" he repeated angrily, putting a hand to his head to massage away the sudden flare of pain. "It is your duty to be the first to rise."

"Quite frankly, sir, you're heavier than you look. I hardly slept at all with you..."

"What are you babbling about?" he snapped. "Bring a hangover potion and a strong pot of tea this instant."

"Breakfast, sir?" she asked with a very small voice.

Lucius groaned and pulled a disgusted face.

Obviously not, Rose thought.

She rushed away quickly with a look of wonder in her eyes. Apparently, Malfoy didn't remember a thing about last night. Oh, well, a hangover potion would cure that, then maybe they could discuss the matter.

Half an hour later, she reentered with a tray of the requested concoctions to find Lucius had returned to bed. Softly, she whispered a hovering charm over the tray and left it by the bedside while she filled the bath. He'd need a piping hot soak this morning to relieve the ache that kind of heavy drinking caused.

She exited the room as quickly as she could, attending to Draco's breakfast and coffee as well, then settled down to work on patching Draco's quidditch robes.

An hour later, Lucius appeared at her door.

"May I?" he asked in a tone that gave her to understand it was not a request.

"By all means," she answered quietly.

He took a seat in the chair by the writing desk and fixed her with a curious stare.

"Feeling better?" she asked casually, not looking up from her work.

"A bit."

"Are you hungry?"

"Would you have changed your mind?" he asked, switching subjects so abruptly that Rose almost didn't follow.

"No," she answered, still seemingly engrossed in her work.

"And, what does that mean?"

"It means I lost my head," she answered, her voice more exasperated than she intended. She continued in a more subdued tone. "It means that you're very persuasive, and you're very attractive, and I found myself unable to walk away."

"And, now?" he pursued.

Rose sighed deeply and looked up. "And now, I don't know what to do. I have no desire to be my employer's bed-warmer, to add sleeping with you to my list of responsibilities. But, having tasted what you offered, I don't think I could refuse you again."

Lucius rumbled pensively.

"Quite the quandary, my dear lady. What will you do?"

"For right now, I'm going to finish this project for Draco, then I'm going to go fix lunch. You'll probably be starving in a few hours." She returned her attention to her work.

"What is it that you are doing?" he asked.

"Patching his quidditch robes," she answered casually.

"Patching?" Lucius repeated incredulously. "Ridiculous! I believe I can afford to buy new robes for my only heir."

Rose chuckled. "Of course you can, but this is the way the players wear them."

"I will not have my son looking like some beggar," Lucius snapped.

"He won't look like a beggar, Mr. Malfoy. He'll look like a normal teenager," she replied laughingly.

"Well, that is something that he is not," Lucius said venomously.

"That's exactly what he is," Rose countered softly, determined to not cause another argument. "Why can't you just accept it, accept him?"

Lucius stood assertively, towering over her as he responded. "I am the boy's father..." he began majestically.

"And I'm his friend," Rose countered gracefully, standing as well. She placed a hand on his arm, lightly, hoping that he wouldn't pull away. "And I can tell you on good authority that he loves you, and that he needs a father, not a dictator. Please don't do this to him."

Lucius gazed deeply into her eyes, and placed a gentle hand on her face. "I should inform you, Madam, that if you didn't have such a pleasant voice and such sultry eyes, I'd drag you to the dungeon and beat you senseless for interfering with my family." His voice was gentle as he spoke the words, but the implied threat caused a surge of fear within Rose.

In the blink of an eye, his demeanor changed. For the first time in the history of her relationship with Lucius Malfoy, she saw warmth break through the ice in his eyes. "However, because you have been a faithful servant, and you seem to truly care for my son, I will consider your words," he said carefully.

"That's more than I have a right to ask," she said humbly.

Thanks, everybody, for the R&R. It was a long, difficult weekend, even more so than usual, and it was wonderful to return home and answer all the reviews from my beautiful readers.

Rycca: Forgive me, fellow Slytherin. I meant no insult to our special brand of integrity. :-) Sorry about the missing Severus. He'll be back, soon, I promise! And, yeah, Lucius is one of the most over-protective parents I've ever seen. Of course, that's Alex's fault. And, yeah, wand-tag, which is, I'm sure you surmised, the wizard version of laser-tag sounds like fun!

Fleur K: Rose is a pretty tough cookie. I'd have broken the first night - not that I would have even thought about resisting the man. Thank you so much for the good word on my character development! I really want those guys to grow and learn. I as well am glad that Draco's warmed up to her. He's pretty cool to people he doesn't despise.

Jenilyn: Sorry about the "yummies." I know firsthand how distracting they can be. My, my! You do need to keep your wits about you. I survived Mother's Day, but just barely. I'd give details, but they're just too damn grizzly to bear. As to the story, you think Lucius knows, hmm? That's interesting. What makes you think so? And, Sev, "shot off of the broomstick?" Never! He'll be back, the stubborn bastard!

PP: Gee, It's good to know that at least Rose is up to speed on Alex's targets. I'm glad that you liked my description of luscious Lucius. He makes it so easy.

Siverfey: Draco's a fairly insightful little man. I'm sure that, if he knew Alex as well as his father knows her, he would have figured out the Rose/Alex connection already. I like that about him. Rose overheard the conversation between Sev and Lucius, and now knows that Lucius wants an alliance, and has feelings for her. I'm sorry it's so complicated. It's going to get even more twisty before long, so hang on! If you need a reminder or I'm unclear about something, just let me know and I'll be glad to help. Concerning your Ps, you already know the truth, but Alex doesn't. I'll clear that up in chapter 18. Promise!

Annie: Sorry about the cliffie. I love them, but they seem to cause undue stress in my readers. Wow! Perfect dialog! Thanks a million! You're right about Lucius, by the way. And, don't worry. Alex is coming back. In the meantime, just as a reminder: she has long, wavy, golden-brown hair, light brown eyes, and slightly tanned skin.