Chapter 35- On Holiday

-

"I have to know the truth about Marisol, the spells…everything."

Didn't ask for much, his girl—just that he tell all that he'd tried to forget. Draco studied the darkness beyond the wall of glass before glancing around the room. Terry and Blaise were pressed together on one end of a long sofa, with Luna and Wesley on the other. In the chair across from his, Ginny sat quietly, watching him restlessly tap his fingers. If he hadn't been a Malfoy, Draco might have thought he was reluctant to begin his promised 'story.'

He sat up straighter. The heir to a proud pure-blood family hesitated at nothing, certainly not at recounting a simple tale. Why, how many times had Crabbe and Goyle begged him to tell them another story whenever he was in a mood to recount one of his many exploits? Too many times to count….

Boot cleared his throat.

Draco broke off his internal dialogue, reluctantly admitting that he was definitely on a mental tangent trying to stall the explanation he didn't know how to begin.

"Look, I started this whole thing," said Blaise. "Let me tell the first part." When he nodded, relieved, she turned to Boot. "You know that Edina and Narcissa have been best mates since our first year. That December, they threw a party."

"For your birthday," said Boot.

Blaise nodded. "And Yule. Fiona and Morrigan couldn't come. I had no other friends except Draco, and he was happy to be the centre of attention. Feeling sorry for myself, I pouted in the library, snooping through books, until I found one hidden inside another text."

"What was the name of it?" asked Roberts.

"You don't want to know. I'd looked through it before in the Restricted Section at school, and there was a spell in it that I knew I could do."

"What spell?"

Blaise bite her lip nervously at Ginny and Terry's simultaneous question. "The Eternal Friendship Spell."

Draco tried to gauge Ginny's reaction.

She didn't look at him, ordering the other girl, "Tell me exactly what you did to perform that spell."

Blaise haltingly described the ring of candles, the wand waving and chanting to the four winds before pronouncing the finishing words to the spell.

Boot said levelly, "Flesh and blood…you, what, touched each other's skin and drank each other's blood? That right, Malfoy?"

"Yes. We pricked our fingers with a letter opener and placed our hands on each other's shoulders." Draco thought that didn't sound too bad. He looked at Ginny. She was pressing her lips together. His stomach twisted. Maybe it did. He rushed into speech, "Look, we were two kids who wanted to be friends forever. We've never kissed, much less had it off, and the stupid spell didn't hurt us."

He exhaled harshly. "In fact, it saved me after I made the mistake of my life here after third year."

His girlfriend didn't look shocked. Something in her eyes said she knew where the story was headed. Draco wished he didn't have to say it. "I met a woman, Marisol. She was older…experienced…and when she asked me to show her around, I did."

Ginny's eyes closed.

Blaise cried, "He didn't want to keep seeing that witch! She used Dark magic, compelled him..." She took a shaky breath. "He was miserable. I knew a way to break the spell, so I used it. Mr. Malfoy came in while Draco slept and told me Marisol would die if I overcame her spell. That's why I thought she was dead."

The stark confession struck the room to silence. Ginny stared at the floor.

Boot stared at Blaise. "When you saw that she wasn't dead, why did you wish that she was?"

"Because Marisol hurt him, she's evil, and I was afraid that…."

"She'd try to get him back?" Luna asked softly.

The words echoed in Draco's head, making his skin crawl. He could feel his girlfriend staring, trying to catch his eye, but this time he was the one examining floor tiles, grimly keeping bad memories at bay.

Ginny asked flatly, "Tell me the truth, Blaise. Are you in love with Draco?"

"No! I love him. He's my friend and always will be, but I'm in love with Terry."

She threw her arms around her boyfriend, who said, "Baby, don't cry, gods, don't cry. I love you."

Draco waited for Ginny to say something, anything. When she didn't, he stood opened one of the French doors to feel the cool breeze. He rubbed a hand across his eyes. When soft fingers touched his, he pulled away, still gazing sightlessly out into the night. "Are you sure that you want to touch me? You don't know where these hands have been."

"I don't care."

A mirthless smile crossed his face, "You cared a few minutes ago, grilling Blaise about our little friendship spell."

"No, I didn't." She started to speak and then stopped, looking frustrated with the inability to express her feelings. "It was just…."

"What? Jealousy? Are you going to start hitting me every time my mate smiles the way Granger does your brother?" He sneered. "Will you begin wondering what I'm up to every time we're apart? How will you be able to sleep at night, thinking about it?"

He sounded like his father. Lucius could get under anyone's skin with cool insinuation.

Draco expected accusations in return. He was taken aback when Ginny said, "That's why I asked her if she was in love with you. So I can deal with your close friendship and know, once and for all, that Blaise is truly my friend too."

He could hear the sincerity in her voice, feel her eyes searching for signs that he understood. It was impossible to stay hurt and angry. Turning, he wrapped his arms around Ginny. She stepped close, her hands sliding around to stroke his back. "I love you so much," she whispered.

Draco closed his eyes while resting his cheek against her hair. "I love you too."

Her hands made circles on his back. He smoothed back bright strands and bent to bring his mouth to hers.

"Luna, sweetheart, we've really got to fight so that we can make up sometime."

Draco lifted his head to give a cheeky monkey an impatient glare.

It was a wasted effort. Roberts didn't notice, asking his girlfriend, "What's the matter, Luna?"

She said, "I remember Marisol saying that since Blaise and Draco weren't a couple, she was going to spill a little blood and see if an old friend came running."

Draco felt his stomach drop. He glanced down to see freckles standing out against the pallor of Ginny's face. She whispered, "What are we going to do?"

Serenely, as if suggesting they go have a cup of tea, Luna said, "How about a co-ed slumber party?"

-

An hour later, Draco lay on his right side, an arm curved around Ginny's waist. She brought his newly cut finger up to her mouth and kissed it.

On the middle bed, Terry stretched out with Blaise's curls resting on his chest. Wesley and Luna cuddled on the last bed, laughing softly. After the candles were dimmed, Draco tolerated the sound of suppressed mirth for a few minutes before demanding, "What's so funny over there?"

In the dark, he could hear the grin in a Mercutio-like voice. "Nothing, mate."

Wonderful, first he and Tarzan were friendly, and now a cheeky monkey wanted to make nice too. Draco remained silent, deciding that Cheetah was best ignored.

Indecipherable whispers caused his lips to twist in irritation. The least the others could do was speak up so that he could hear. Ginny shifted to face him and trace his lips with her fingers. He slid his hand down the arm of her silky pyjama top, glad that they'd changed into nightclothes before bunking down in the girls' bedroom. Her lips brushed his. Roguishly taking advantage of the concealing shadows, Draco deepened the kiss.

He was starting to really enjoy the 'co-ed slumber party' when the vague whispers turned into speech.

"Sounds, people…friends that are trying to sleep like innocent children should not be subjected to suggestive sounds!"

Roberts was two seconds away from getting that hex affecting private areas when Ginny burst out giggling. Blaise, Terry, Luna, and funny-man Wesley started laughing too. Reluctantly smiling, Draco turned away from the others. His girl scooted back into position against his chest. He draped his arm around Ginny, found her hand, and entwined their fingers. "Sweet dreams."

"Gee, thanks, Malfoy. You too."

A chuckle escaped. Refusing to encourage Roberts any further, Draco said repressively, "Goodnight."

Rolling his eyes at the chorus of 'goodnights' that followed, Draco smiled when his hand was lifted, kissed, and the voice that he loved most said sleepily, "Goodnight, love."

-

-

The first rays of morning sunshine crossed Luna's face, making her turn into the warm body next to hers to escape the light. Drowsily, she murmured, "Yon light is not day-light, I know it."

The chest beneath her cheek vibrated with silent amusement. Wesley said huskily, "I have more care to stay than will to go. Let's talk. It is not day."

Luna raised her head to meet bright blue eyes. "It is, it is...more light and light it grows."

She froze when a grumpy voice said, "Why in the name of Merlin are you two quoting Romeo and Juliet at this ungodly hour?"

Wesley, golden hair rumpled adorably, winked at her before answering the Slytherin who seemed to have awakened on the wrong side of the bed. "You knew it was the Bard. Quoted him yourself, have you, mate?"

A long-suffering sigh was exhaled before Draco said, "None of your business, and answer the question…mate."

Luna smiled to see her boyfriend rendered speechless by the shock of having the Prince of Slytherin call him 'mate.' His round eyes were so endearing. She sat up in bed, looking over to see Draco brushing Ginny's hair away from her face. "I know we didn't get a lot of sleep, but we're supposed to go on a balloon ride this morning," she reminded everyone.

Jack-knifing up from the middle bed, Blaise yelped, "Globo Magico! We've got…." She grabbed Luna's arm and peered at the watch with a rainbow on the middle of the face and a flying bluebird marking the seconds. "One bloody hour before our magic balloon ride takes off!" She shook Terry's shoulders. "Baby, wake up! We don't have time for your sleeping cutie routine…oh, very well."

Luna's eyes widened. She looked at Ginny, who looked equally intrigued by the idea of waking her boyfriend with a kiss. A soft snore brought her attention back to Wesley. His eyes were now closed. Amused, she leaned over and kissed him. His mouth curved into a smile while his eyes stared into hers. She giggled and kissed him again. He pouted adorably when she pointed to the door. "Go get dressed. We'll meet you in the parlour in forty minutes."

Once the guys had been pushed out the door—literally in Terry's case—Luna beat the other girls to the shower. She brushed her long hair while Ginny took her turn in the lavatory and Blaise made the beds with her wand. She asked curiously, "I got the impression when you refused to go on the free-fall ride that you're afraid of heights. Why do you want to go ballooning?"

Blaise shrugged. "It's different, somehow. Moving with the wind, there's no turbulence. If I don't look down, I can pretend I'm just admiring the sky and never left the ground."

That made sense. Luna pulled on denims and the layers of shirt, jumper, and light jacket her friend had recommended. The outer layers were borrowed from a selection Minky had brought in from a wardrobe in another bedroom. The ice-blue colour of the cashmere garments made Luna guess they were Narcissa's. A tiny, empty bottle of vodka discovered in the jacket pocket confirmed it.

While she tied the laces of her trainers, Luna hid a smile when Ginny chose a black jumper and poncho. It seemed that she wasn't the only one who liked to match her boyfriend. Blaise picked out a red jumper with a denim jacket. When they met the boys, Draco was dressed in black leather, Terry wore denim and Wesley had on a light blue windbreaker.

The house elf appeared. "When you is landing, breakfast is served."

Blaise said, "Thank you, Minky."

One by one, the friends Flooed to 'Globo Magico.' In a large, open field beside the small house that served as home and office, a witch and two wizards were inflating three hot air balloons with their wands. Blaise told them that unlike the Muggle variety, these multicoloured balloons weren't solely at the mercy of the wind. That was very reassuring. So was the calm, gentle breeze.

Luna hopped into a basket with the pilot, a short-haired, capable older woman named Katia, and Wesley. Nervously, she clung to the railing with a tight grip. The wicker wall between her and the slowly increasing space to the ground didn't seem very sturdy.

Anxiety rose until strong arms encircled and a cheerful voice teased, "The view of the countryside is almost as beautiful as you are, Buttercup."

Luna relaxed and started to enjoy the ride. It was like being part of the sky. The sun had already risen in the east, but traces of soft colours remained. Far below, the landscape looked like a tapestry. She could see a few tiny Muggle vehicles winding their way along the ribbon-like roads. Aside from a whoosh from magicked blasts of hot air, the silence was mesmerising. Luna tilted her head to smile at Wesley. She didn't know where they were headed, and didn't care if they ever came down.

Gradually descending to an open field, the balloon landed gently. Katia laughed at the dazed expressions of her passengers while they helped with 'milking,' or squeezing the air out of the balloon. "Let your minds drift along with el globo, eh? That's good. You'll be back!"

They met the others in the middle of the field where the house-elf had transported the gauzy pavilion and all its accoutrements. The three pilots were amazed by such luxury in a rural setting, but quickly accepted the invitation to breakfast.

A lorry rumbled up. The driver hopped out and gestured to the deflated balloons. His associates shook their heads and waved him over, calling that work could wait.

Luna lifted her flute of champagne in the traditional toast to celebrate a safe landing. One of the other pilots, Tonio, said a balloonist prayer of thanks.

The winds have welcomed you with their softness.

The sun has blessed you with his warm hands.

You have flown so high and so well,

That the gods have joined with you in laughter,

And returned you gently back into the loving arms of mother earth.

A short while later, Luna picked up what looked like a fried donut stick and took a hesitant bite. It was good.

Wesley wiped sugar crystals off her mouth and brought his finger to his mouth. "Mmm, sweet. I'll have to try a churro myself."

Mischievously, Luna picked up a piece of fruit and took a bite.

Wesley murmured, "The strawberries look delicious too."

Across the table, Katia's dark eyes sparkled with humour when she told the group, "These two should take up ballooning. They're naturals!"

Wesley shook his head modestly. That made Luna suspicious. The dimples that deepened made her expect outrageousness, even before he said, "I don't know about being a natural, unless it's natural to think ballooning's like kissing—tranquillity mixed with an exciting rush of adrenaline."

"Si!"

Blaise and Ginny giggled at the Spaniards' hearty approval. Luna kept smiling serenely.

When the conversation moved to other topics, Wesley said, "I didn't…er…embarrass you with my little analogy, did I?"

"No. I'm practicing tranquillity, so when we get back to the casa, you can help me with that 'exciting rush of adrenaline' you were talking about."

The look on Wesley's face made her laugh out loud and pop a berry into his open mouth.

-

-

After the house-elf returned to magically clear everything away and obligingly whisk the ballooning apparatus onto the lorry, Katia handed out broomsticks.

On the return flight to Globo Magico, Ginny laughed when Draco yelled, "These old things make Cleansweeps look like Firebolts!"

She called back, "Better keep your mouth shut if you don't want bugs in your teeth!" His lips immediately closed together.

Slowly but surely, they made it back and Flooed to the casa. Catching Draco elegantly suppressing a yawn, Ginny said, "Why don't we take two siestas today?"

Wesley hustled Luna out of the room so fast; Terry said dryly, "He must really be sleepy."

Blaise winked at Ginny. "I'm tired, too." She tugged her boyfriend toward the side door.

Terry grinned. "Okay, sleeping beauty, I'm coming."

Ginny watched Draco curl his lip adorably at the other couple's romantic by-play. She asked, "Did you want me to wake you with a kiss this morning too?"

Instantly, cool composure replaced envious disdain. "Why do you ask? Did you want to wake me with a kiss?"

"Yes."

"So why didn't you?"

A wave of pink washed over her face. "I was shy."

Grey eyes narrowed. "You've kissed me behind every bloody statue at school, on my lap in the Broomsticks, and in the middle of a crowded dance floor, and you were shy?"

He was a typical Slytherin, twisting everything around. She nodded while moving toward the bedroom corridor. "I was shy."

She giggled when Draco repeated matter-of-factly, "She was shy." He caught up to her in the archway. "That's not the way to our hammock."

Ginny took a deep breath. "I know. I don't want to siesta on the hammock. I want to sleep in your old room."

He looked startled, then angry, before a mask of indifference settled over classically handsome features. "All right. This way." Striding ahead of her, he walked past the bedroom the boys were sharing to stop at the last one before the lounge. He waved her inside, gesturing to the double bed. "Want to sleep on Blaise's side?"

The room was stark, with only a few framed drawings on whitewashed walls. Ginny refused to rise to the bait. She walked over and looked at the art. The first picture was a large charcoal rendition of the casa. It was brilliant. Tiny initials caught her eye. They were Draco's. Her gaze flickered to his face.

He said, "Why the surprise? You've known since Halloween that I could draw."

The intricate Celtic designs carved into a giant gourd came to mind. She confessed, "I forgot. Distracted by your other talents, I guess." The only other drawings hung over the bed. She moved nearer to peer at them closely. The one on the left was another charcoal drawing. It depicted a girl with short, curly hair putting the finishing touches on a sandcastle. Involuntarily, her eyes moved over Blaise's body.

"No, my best mate didn't have curves back then, but I think I captured her striking features, and those long legs." He was standing behind her, reaching past her shoulder to tap the other drawing, "I think she did a better job at sketching me. Not technically, but in terms of raw feeling. Don't you agree, Ginevra?"

That silky drawl wasn't trying to entice her to turn around and snog him. It was calculated to insinuate, to goad…and she wasn't going to fall for his manipulation. Instead, Ginny leaned closer to examine the sketch of a boy who had just awakened from sleeping on his stomach.

He was bare to the waist, a sleepy smile curving his lips and lighting his eyes. It wasn't an example of perfect technique, but Draco was right, there was a depth of feeling to it that compelled the eye to linger. A quality his superior drawing lacked. Quietly, she repeated something he'd said to her earlier, "Blaise's side. Which one was it?"

"The one farthest away from the door."

Ginny slipped off the black poncho and jumper, kicking off her flats to lay down in her own black tee and denims. Draco stripped to a black tee and trousers but continued to stand at the foot of the bed, staring down at her. She said, "If Blaise had a side, then she slept in this bed more than once. That means that either she was afraid of something, or you were. Which was it?"

He sat at the opposite side of the bed. "She was afraid. Someone kept trying to enter her room at night."

"Who?"

His eyes were flinty. "My father, most likely. I wouldn't put it past him." He frowned at her expression. "Lucius may be a lot of things, but a paedophile isn't one of them. I figured out a long time ago that he was trying to push us together."

"It didn't work."

Draco finally lay down beside her, staring at the ceiling. She studied the profile that was so handsome; it literally hurt to think of someone else touching it.

He said, "I should've known that he'd just try harder. Marisol was another one of his pawns. Father's not all-knowing. I'd like to think he wouldn't have brought her round if he'd known what she was capable of."

Lucius Malfoy didn't seem overflowing with parental warmth the few times Ginny had seen him. In fact, she remembered vividly watching through ominoculars during one Quidditch match when Draco fell off his broom. His father had appeared livid at the boy's failure to catch the Snitch, not concerned that his only child might be hurt.

Abruptly, the eyes gazing at the ceiling shifted to capture hers. She tried not to flinch when he spat, "Want to hear the gory details?"

"No."

His drawl was classic Malfoy, cold and spiteful, "Really? Then why'd you drag me into this room? What bloody damn good is hearing how sad and pathetic my life was? Does it make you want to kiss the pain away?"

He rolled over and pinned her down, kissing her roughly. Ginny embraced him as tight as she could. When he pulled back, she said simply, "I wanted to come into this room to show you that I love you, and nothing in your past is going to change that."

His face was so tormented that tears rolled down her cheeks. Draco buried his face against her neck. She could feel his breath hitch unevenly, but he didn't cry. Maybe he couldn't. Time passed. Eventually, he rolled to his side. The look in his eyes made her heart turn over. "Gods, Ginny, I'm a bastard, and I don't deserve you, but I love you…and nothing is going to change that either."

The kiss that followed was gentle and loving. She rested her head against Draco's chest. His fingers stroked her hair more and more slowly, until the caress stopped and she realised her boyfriend had fallen asleep. Ginny watched him, until her eyes grew heavy and her head lolled to the side.

"Pssst! Ginny! Draco! Wake up!"

She woke up and saw red. Her hair had fallen into her face. Ginny shoved it out of her eyes, blinking at the girl standing in the doorway. "Hey, Blaise. What time is it?"

"Time for you two to get up and go change. We're going to Cesares again on the mopeds. I need Draco to remind Terry that Muggles get grumpy when you exceed the 110 kph speed limit."

Draco opened his eyes. "Aren't you going to hassle us about the rules?"

"Haven't you heard? I think rules are made to be broken," Blaise said as she backed down the corridor.

Ginny asked the boy beside her, "Is that what you think too?"

He shook his head. "No. I think they don't apply to me."

Ginny's laughter faded when she saw his smile. It reminded her of something. She twined her fingers with his and then lifted them over his head. Leaning over him, she reminded with a smirk, "I believe I told you that I'm going to hold you down and snog you."

He raised his head toward hers. "Wouldn't want to call you a liar, when we promised to tell the truth."

She kissed him until chiselled lips parted and his tongue glided against hers. Before someone else came and reminded them of house rules, Ginny broke the kiss.

Draco saw her smug expression and asked, "What's the look for?"

She winked. "I hope you enjoyed that, because I'm going to have to do it again. What I actually said was I'm going to hold you down and snog you on the hammock. So next siesta, you're going to have to make an honest woman of me."

Ginny strutted out of the room with low, pleased laughter following her down the corridor.

-

-

"Is that what you're wearing to the fiesta? It's so pretty!"

Blaise's gaze travelled from the beautifully tailored white dress to the redhead eyeing the crystal detailing. She said, "No, this is what you're wearing. Don't argue. The dress is bespelled to size itself to fit perfectly." She tossed the gown into the other girl's arms, reaching down to lift a pair of shoes. Using what Luna called her 'snake charmer voice' she tempted, "Peep toe, white leather stiletto pumps with gold tone and enamel 'D & G' logo buckles."

"Dolce & Gabbana?"

Confident that she had her friend at designer, the girl smirked. "Dolce & Gabbana Stregone, amiga, charmed to fit with comfort and support. Try them on."

Blaise moved toward the wardrobe to find something else to wear. The white dress would look gorgeous with fiery hair and freckles, but not on her. She'd look like a little girl on her way to…communion…that was Papa called it.

The upcoming meeting with her father's estranged family was making her nervous. The last couple of days had been so hectic, what with cleaning skeletons out of closets between holiday jaunts, that she hadn't thought about what the Romero family would think of her until a few hours ago. That gown she'd picked out was perfect for making a good impression, but it wasn't her.

Nearby, Luna was staring doubtfully at her reflection in a cheval mirror. "Do you think this outfit is too…colourful?"

The light green cardigan and camisole paired with a tiered skirt in multi-colours was stunning. Blaise said so and Ginny seconded the opinion. "You look great. What kind of earrings are you wearing?"

Luna fingered the gold coins hanging from hooks. "Doubloons. Wesley once told me that I was a pirate, because I stole his heart."

Blaise was glad Luna had picked Wesley over Harry-Bloody-Potter. What Morrigan saw in the boy other than intense green eyes and a cool scar, she didn't know. He was always sulking and brooding, and not attractively like Draco, either.

Once, in potions, when they'd both been getting ingredients out of the storage cupboard, she'd heard Potter muttering to Mr. Freckles about what a git Snape was. Impulsively pretending that she needed to ask the professor a question, Blaise had drifted by Potter's table, surreptitiously adding a drop of hellebore to his cauldron.

When Professor Snape denigrated Potter's ability to read the directions while making the failed Draught of Peace vanish, Blaise had giggled. Snape had whirled around, met her eyes, and done something that still had the power to make her heart skip a beat in memory. His lips had curved, ever so briefly, into a smile.

"Don't sigh, we'll find you something to wear," said Luna.

Unwilling to admit the true reason for her sighing, Blaise stood back and let her friends rifle through her clothes. Most of them she'd never seen before. Had Eddy and Cissy hit fashion week? The two girls conferred over several dresses before Ginny pulled out a dress they both agreed was 'fab.'

Blaise smiled over her mother's favourite word slithering into her mates' vocabulary. "Good choice, I'll wear it."

The dress had a halter top of navy silk with a full skirt in tiers of navy, aqua and green ending several inches above the knee. She could tell Terry liked it by the stunned expression on his face. Blaise liked the way he looked in black.

Wesley looked enviously at Luna's colourful skirt. "Tell me again why girls get to wear any colour they like, but we're stuck looking like crows?"

Draco's lips twitched. "The Romeros are an old, traditional family. If you walk in wearing a psychedelic shirt, Blaise's grandfather will consider it, and you, feminine."

Wesley grumbled, but he didn't rush out to change and fight for his right to wear colour. Luna held his hand and patted it consolingly. He grinned.

Next to Blaise, Terry ran his fingers down her bare back. "How am I supposed to make a good impression on your family if I can't keep my hands off you?"

She smiled and smoothed back his hair. "Don't worry about them. Just remember that you're going to make a great impression on me."

His chuckle followed her into the fireplace, giving her the ability to say almost steadily, "Hacienda Romero."

-

Stepping out of the enormous stone fireplace in Andalusia, Blaise's gaze was drawn immediately to a man sitting on an ornately carved chair facing her. He looked nothing like her father. Vicente Romero reminded her of a hawk, all lean, harsh planes and angles. One hand held a silver topped cane. The other extended regally to her.

Involuntarily, she smiled. Did he expect her to kiss his ring or something? Walking forward, she clasped his fingers. In a courtly gesture, the old man kissed her hand. "You are your father's daughter. I saw Enrique's impudence in your smile."

When her great-grandfather rose from the chair, she looked into fathomless dark eyes that showed a trace of amusement. Pertly, she kissed his cheek. "Gracias, eres muy amable."

"Did I hear correctly, abuelo? Did you really say something kind?"

A short, stocky man with a friendly smile walked into the room. He embraced her warmly. "Welcome home, Niña. I'm your father's cousin Enzo, call me cousin too."

"Thank you, cousin Enzo."

The gregarious man asked to be introduced to her friends. His smile faded for a moment when he realised Terry was her boyfriend, but Enzo soon recovered his affable charm. "Grandfather and I would like to show you Yeguada Romero. Our family has been breeding what you would call 'Andalusian' horses for centuries." Gesturing for them to follow, her cousin informed while leading them along cool, dim corridors, "Homer, in his Illiad praised the Pura Raza Espanola. Your English Duke of Newcastle wrote that 'it is the noblest horse in the world, the most beautiful that can be.'"

Instinctively, Blaise reached for Terry's hand when they crossed a grand portal to step outside. This imposing home, with its severe, whitewashed façade, was where her father had grown up. He had gazed across these manicured lawns, played under the olive trees, ridden through those meadows surrounded by Andalusian hills.

Not once had Enrique mentioned his childhood or his family in Spain to the one he'd made in England. She didn't know what to think about that.

Her grandfather kept slanting assessing glances her way. Blaise made sure to appear interested while Enzo rattled off his spiel about the superior lineage and impeccable training of their stock while guiding them around the stud farm. Most of the strongly built, yet elegant horses she saw grazing in pastures or being trained in sanded or turfed rings were white. Some were grey, and a few black.

In a far pasture, two riders caught her attention. They were galloping toward a small group of bulls.

"Here…use my omnioculars."

Absently thanking her cousin, Blaise focused on the men. After a few moments, she gasped, "They just knocked down a couple of bulls with poles! What in Merlin's name are they playing at?" She handed the omnioculars to Terry, who raised them to his eyes to see for himself.

Her great-grandfather gave a rusty-sounding chuckle. "Your cousin Diego and Alanzo are practicing for the upcoming Acoso Y Derribo competition."

"What does that mean?" Luna asked.

Her calm interest merited a half smile. "We prefer to use the definition of 'the art of bull running on horseback.' The garrocha, or wooden pole, has been long been used to work the fierce bulls of Spain. Applying pressure behind the hipbone tips the bull, but does not harm."

Terry said, "He's right, Blaise, the bulls stood right back up. One even went after one of the riders." He offered the omnioculars to Draco.

The other boy nodded his thanks. "I can't imagine a businessman like Enrique Zabini tipping bulls."

Vicente waved them back toward the hacienda. "Come. You will see."

Inside what looked to be an office, the walls were covered with pictures of horses and riders along with numerous awards for various competitions. Stiffly walking over to a photograph framed in dark wood, the silver-haired man took it off the wall and handed it to his great grand-daughter. Her friends crowded around. Together, they watched a young man accept a silver trophy cup and hold it up while those around him applauded.

"At sixteen, Enrique was the youngest to win Acoso Y Deribo's greatest honour—The Championship of Seville. My grandson made the house of Romero proud that day." Gravely, the old Spaniard added, "Your father was obedient, respectful, until his visit to England. When he came back, Enrique had changed. Duty no longer meant anything to him, and responsibility…familia…was less than nothing. It was something to be left behind and forgotten."

An older woman with the air of a housekeeper stood in the doorway. "I beg your pardon, Senor Romero, but the guests have begun to arrive."

Vicente inclined his head. "I will be there to greet them shortly, Pia. Ensure that the rest of the staff has all in readiness." Brusquely, he told them, "I must go greet our friends and family, but feel free to stay and view the photographs of Enrique. There are many of them." Nodding regally, the aristocratic old man left with the woman trailing in his wake.

Terry's arm slid around Blaise's waist. "Are you okay?"

Blaise shrugged. They stepped forward to examine the photographs encircling the walls. Her great-grandfather had not been exaggerating. The back wall in particular held many pictures of her father with large groups of family, at work around the Yeguada, riding in competition, and accepting trophies.

"There's something about these photographs that bother me, but I can't quite put my finger on it," Wesley said.

Luna pointed. "I think it's that Enrique never smiles."

Blaise scanned the photos again. Luna was right. Her father's face was solemn in every picture.

"Not true, Lovegood, here's one of Zabini smiling." Draco handed Blaise a small photograph of a young boy laughing with a curly-haired older woman.

Ginny said, "The woman looks a lot like you. Is that your great-grandmother?"

Reaching out a fingertip, Blaise touched the face of the only relative her father had ever told her stories about. "Sophia Zabini was the one who wanted a summer home on la Costa de la Luz, who designed the courtyard…and left the home to my father when she died."

"Actually, cousin, mi abuela left the home to you, along with a trust that your father was to administrate." Enzo, wearing a tailored black suit, smiled at the surprise on her face. Moving forward, he said, "I take it that this is news?" When she stared blankly, he invited the others, "The fiesta has begun. May I show you to the terrace, where refreshments are being served? If you will wait uno momento, Blaise, I will return and show you Sophia's bedroom. There is a portrait of tu abuela that you should see."

"Terry stays."

Her cousin escorted the two other couples out of the room. Once they were alone, Blaise flung herself into Terry's embrace. He held her protectively.

An amused voice said, "Lo siento, sorry to interrupt, but when I saw my father leading your friends to the bar, I offered to take you upstairs myself."

Diego Romero's smile was extremely white against his dark olive complexion. Holding Terry's hand, Blaise followed him along spartanly elegant corridors and up a grand staircase to a bedchamber that reminded her of her own. The dark, ornately carved furniture, the tapestries and rugs…Enrique must have wanted her to appreciate her heritage, although he'd never spoken about it.

Over the mantel of the fireplace across from the bed hung a full-length portrait of a young woman in a formal white gown…Sophia….

"I see the resemblance, but you're more beautiful," said Terry

Diego chuckled. "I think that the old man hoped to make a match between us kissing cousins, so you've made me extremely happy by bringing your friend along. My girlfriend Daria is the jealous type."

She shook her head. "I didn't get that impression. Great-grandfather seemed more intent on sharing how my father turned his back on family duty."

The full laugh that statement caused made her and Terry exchange baffled glances. Romero explained,

"Gran abuelo! I meant my father." Sheepishly, he added, "No offence, prima, but he really misses that beach house. Our family spent holidays there every year until…."

Until Sophia died and willed the home to a great-granddaughter that she'd never met. Had the woman hoped to reconcile Vicente and Enrique? Blaise felt a smile tug her lips to think her cousin Enzo loved the house enough to marry his son off to gain it. "If Sol y Sombra is really mine, then you can tell your father that the family will always be welcome."

He grinned. "Let's go tell him now!"

Blaise waved him ahead with the promise that they'd be down in a moment. When the other man left, she trailed her fingers over the things on the dresser. Impulsively, she headed toward the enormous four poster bed.

"What are you doing?"

Propped up against the satin covered pillows, she smiled at Terry. "I don't know. I guess I wanted to lie on the bed where Sophia used to read my father stories. After his parents were killed in a boating accident, she became a second mother to him." Patting the counterpane beside her, she coaxed, "Come here, baby."

He glanced uneasily at the door before slowly walking over to lie beside her. Shifting to her side, Blaise wound her fingers in long, silken hair and sought his mouth with hers. The visit had raised questions that only her father could answer, and she didn't want to think about him right now. At this moment, she only wanted to feel Terry's strong body and his warm fingers stroking the bare skin of her back. Several sweet, deep kisses later, the couple parted, and smilingly made their way downstairs.

"This is a back terrace?" Terry said humorously.

"On a grand scale."

Strings of faery lights glowed softly around the enormous tiled area leading to magnificent formal gardens. To one side, a band of musicians played a lively folk tune. At the far end, tables and chairs were colourfully decorated. The crowd of people assembled was divided into small groups. Most were milling around, talking, but some were dancing.

A fair-haired couple were turning and whirling. To the amusement of those around them, Wesley bent Luna back over his arm dashingly. Near the other couple, Blaise saw Ginny lean close to Draco and say something. He lifted an eyebrow before dipping her so dramatically that fiery tresses brushed the tiles. In a manner worthy of a Spaniard, her friend leaned down to kiss his girlfriend masterfully. Applause broke out.

Blaise and Terry exchanged smiles. Pulling Terry's hand with an eagerness that made him chuckle, Blaise led him through the crowd to join the dance.

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A/N: The "I was shy" scene was inspired by Splash. If you haven't ever seen Tom Hanks say, "You were shy?" to his mermaid girlfriend, rent it or watch it the next time the film shows up on cable. It's hilarious. The magic balloon ride and wizard owned yeguada, horse stud, were fun to research. The balloonist prayer is anonymous, but I'm thankful to whoever wrote it, and even more thankful to readers who review!