As his bedroom clock struck seven, Draco was going through the all-too familiar motion of adjusting his tie and smoothing back his hair as he assessed his reflection in the mirror. He looked older than he had two years ago, taller, his figure sturdier, his features more defined. He had chosen one of his finest suits for the occasion and thought he looked damn good as he secured the tie pin Amaris had given him and adjusted his cuffs.

He left his room and went downstairs to the foyer, relishing the light that bounced around the room despite the night that encroached beyond the house. For the first time in years, the manor felt almost like home. Though Christmas was no longer the wonderful time of year it used to be, a least it wasn't as dark and dreary and cold as it had been since the Dark Lord had taken up residence.

But he wasn't here tonight. None of the Death Eaters were, not even his Aunt Bellatrix. It was just Draco, his parents, and soon to join them was Amaris and her uncle for a very small, very private Christmas Eve dinner. Though his father's face remained shadowed and his eyes were still ringed with red, he was trying so hard to create a night of normalcy when their lives were anything but.

"There you are," his mother exclaimed as he crossed the foyer, "my handsome son." She reached up and touched his tie then smoothed out his jacket—one of her affectionate habits. Her finger grazed his tie pin and she smiled knowingly. He glanced away, embarrassed, and shoved his hands in his pockets. His father gave him an approving nod.

Just then the doorbell rang and his father immediately moved to answer it. Only Amaris stood on the stoop and his father quickly invited her in. Her long, dark cloak was flecked with snowflakes, the hood lined with white fur. She held packages that his father passed off to Tippy before helping her remove her cloak.

Draco stopped breathing.

Amaris wore a black evening dress that hugged her torso and draped off her hips to touch the floor, a single split in the side climbing mid-thigh. The bodice was a concoction of lace and beadwork, the long sleeves nothing but black lace, and the wide neckline on the verge of being off-shoulder, exposing her slim collarbones and displaying her mother's moon-drop. She wore her hair pinned up, conservative make-up that was stark around the eyes but minimalist everywhere else, and black heels that significantly notched up her height.

"Oh, Draco, she's breathtaking," his mother murmured before crossing over to her. "Amaris!" She hugged her. "How beautiful you are, my dear. It's so wonderful to see you again."

"It's wonderful to see you, too, Mrs. Malfoy," Amaris replied with a smile before nodding to his father. "Mr. Malfoy."

"Amaris," he greeted her, gently taking her hand. "Every year, you look more and more like your mother."

"Doesn't she?" his mother gushed. "And if your mother were here, I know she would say that you are even prettier than she was at your age."

"But it's simply not true," Amaris said with a smile. "I've seen her pictures."

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and for a mother, her daughter's beauty is a point of pride. It will always outshine all others in her eyes."

As the chatter stalled long enough for Draco to understand it was his turn, he stepped forward. Amaris looked at him and he couldn't help but grin.

"Amaris," he said, holding out his hand.

"Draco," she answered, placing her fingers across his.

Nostalgia hit him like a blow as he lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles, her intoxicating perfume wafting from her wrist. Hadn't they been in this exact situation two years ago? However, in the past, he had been teasing her. He'd wanted to see her squirm. Now, his kiss was entirely sensual, his thumb gliding across her skin, his heated gaze locked on hers. Her lips parted ever so slightly.

"You look stunning," he told her seriously. She blushed, just like she had before.

"Thank you," she whispered, wrestling with her smile. He lowered her hand but did not release it, linking their fingers together and gently tugging her to his side. She cleared her throat and faced his parents. "My uncle sends his regrets that he could not join us," Amaris announced. "He was unexpectedly detained."

His father gave a curt nod, dismissing her uncle's obvious lie. Mr. Selwyn had balked at having to back out of his previous arrangement and was showing his discontent by distancing himself from the situation. His father knew it, but all he could do was ignore it. His mother, on the other hand, gasped in horror.

"You didn't come all the way over by yourself, did you?" she asked. Amaris nodded. "Merlin, no, but it isn't safe out there!"

They were seventeen, which meant they could use magic outside of Hogwarts. She had quite probably apparated over, which made it a rather short trip, but Draco still disliked the idea of her going out alone, especially after Carrow showed such an interest in her.

"It was fine," Amaris assured her but his father was already shaking his head.

"I'll escort you home, my dear," he said. "We can't be too careful, now can we?"

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy."

He smiled. "Of course."

His mother motioned them to follow her, leading them through the house to the family dining room. Whenever they had a large crowd, they dined in the drawing room, but when it was just the three of them, they used the smaller, though no less elegant, room.

Draco and Amaris walked behind her, hand in hand. He noticed her head swiveling, that alert look in her eyes, and leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"There's no one else here," he assured her, and she visibly relaxed, throwing him a grateful smile.

When they reached the dining room, he pulled her chair out as she complimented the décor. He sat down across from her, his father on his right and his mother on his left, the four of them gathered around their antique oak expandable dining table, the draw leaf sides retracted. Tippy had obviously cleared Mr. Selwyn's space while they were on their way down.

"The table looks lovely, Mrs. Malfoy," Amaris commented, admiring the white China dinner plates set on golden chargers, the white cloth napkins bound with golden holly berry rings, rows of golden silverware, crystal water goblets trimmed in gold, and the decorative centerpiece of ivory candles, golden baubles, and fresh garland.

Tippy immediately brought up the food, revealing a very traditional spread of savory turkey, roasted potatoes, stuffing, gravy, cranberry sauce, brussel sprouts, and Yorkshire pudding. Each plate was quickly filled and they began eating.

Draco couldn't help but observe the women's eating habits. They both ate such tiny bites so very slowly, the pinnacle of refinery, as though eating were a minor task that they were in no hurry to complete. And if Draco hadn't known that his mother had gone the entire day without eating to be able to fully enjoy this dinner, he would have thought she was barely hungry. He couldn't help but wonder if Amaris had also starved herself, if she was holding back for the sake of propriety.

"We're so glad you chose to become part of our family, Amaris," his mother said. Draco shot her a look, knowing full well that she was trying to trick Amaris into admitting that she did choose him. Amaris's smile wilted as she quickly looked around at them.

"After every kindness you showed me, you must have thought me incredibly ungrateful to suddenly be matched with Gregory—" she started to say.

"Oh, no, of course not!" his mother exclaimed, nearly blanching at the miscommunication.

"Draco has told us all about how your uncle chose the Goyles against your wishes," his father explained.

Amaris nodded hesitantly. "I'm sure my uncle had his reasons…" she choked out in as diplomatic a manner as she could.

"His reasons for auctioning you off against your will to the highest bidder? To keep his reputation intact," Draco scoffed, enjoying the scandalized look she threw his way.

"That was an unkind thing to say, Draco," his mother gently scolded him.

"Regardless of however true it may be," his father added, his way of siding with them both. Amaris just stared at them, unsure how to respond while maintaining the proper image.

His mother reached over and patted her arm. "Don't worry, my dear," she said. "You're among family now. There's no need to stand on ceremony."

Amaris found her smile, her face warming at the words—or maybe it was the candlelight and heavy meal that was putting color in her cheeks. Was she smiling because she was happy to be considered part of his family? Or was she just being polite?

"Your dress is simply stunning," his mother said, carrying the conversation forward. "Wherever did you get it?"

"My tutor ordered it from Milan," she answered bashfully, seeming to shrink in on herself. If it had been anyone else, they would have announced such a thing with pride, but Amaris seemed to be embarrassed by it.

"Then they found her?" his mother exclaimed. Draco straightened. What did she mean by that? Something oily started stirring in his gut.

"No…" Amaris shook her head. "She ordered it over the summer."

"What are you talking about?" Draco asked his mother.

"My tutor disappeared just after school started," Amaris answered somberly. Draco's jaw tightened in shock.

"Sagun inquired with us, but we, of course, haven't seen her," his father elaborated.

Draco's gaze bounced from one person to the next, thoughts whirling. He had told them that summer what her tutor had done to her, what Mr. Selwyn allowed her to do, but they hadn't said anything to indicate they might do something about it, nor had he noticed anything strange since returning for the holiday…

He studied his parents, their relaxed faces, their comfortable posture. He didn't sense anything—that they might know what had happened or that they may be responsible for it. They seemed completely at ease. He wasn't entirely positive he would notice anything amiss, but if they had done something to the woman, surely they would have told him.

And why did Amaris seem so sad? The woman was awful to her. She should be relieved she's gone. Of course, she's worried, he thought, damn bleeding heart Hufflepuff. Guilt began seeping into his bloodstream. Though he had no idea what had happened to the tutor, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that it was bad and that he was somehow responsible.

"Have you heard from Hayden?" Draco asked, trying to steer the conversation away from further inquiry about the tutor.

Amaris nodded. "I have," she said as she cut herself a bite of turkey. "We've been writing to one another since the school year started."

"The transfer student?" his mother asked and Draco nodded.

"Her family returned to America over the summer," he explained, "and so Hayden left Hogwarts." He pinned Amaris with a look. "Did you tell her?"

"Tell her what?" she asked, popping that tiny bite into her mouth.

"That you're matched to me?"

Amaris stopped chewing for a moment before she nodded. Draco's brows pinned back with the barest hint of amusement.

"And?" he prompted.

"She said—well, a string of—it isn't very appropriate dinner conversation," she admitted.

Draco laughed. To his parents, he said, "We didn't get along."

"It was more that she was concerned for me," Amaris explained. "She knew my uncle had been forcing me to marry Gregory, and that I'd wanted to go to MCAR."

"MCAR?" Draco asked.

"The Magical Center for Astronomical Research in Hawaii," his father answered, his eyes alight with interest. Star-gazing was one of his father's most beloved hobbies. "They have an excellent program and lead the entire wizarding world in the study of our stars."

Amaris nodded. "Professor Sinistra has been trying to get me into their program for a few years now, but my uncle won't allow it. She knew I was expected to marry right away, but she submitted my name anyway, hoping to change his mind if I was accepted."

"And were you?" his father asked.

"Yes," she answered, disappointment on her face, "but he didn't approve."

Draco frowned. He should have suspected that her interest in the stars was more than just a hobby. Or maybe it was just her way to get away from her uncle and societal obligations. He wanted to ask her if it was really so bad marrying him, but he was afraid of the answer, so he resumed stabbing at his food.

"Hmmm," his mother hummed thoughtfully. "I assume you would want to invite her to the wedding."

Amaris blushed and Draco froze with his fork hovering over his plate.

"Will it be a problem, dear?" she asked, fixing him with a look, and his eyes widened. "Since the two of you didn't get along."

"No," he snapped, feeling trapped.

"Wonderful. Now, tell me, what do you envision for your wedding?" his mother asked, turning her attention to Amaris.

"Uhm," Amaris rasped, looking sheepishly at each of them before staring at her plate in utter embarrassment. "Well, I…"

His father and mother smiled at one another, and he wished he understood what they found so amusing.

"Now, beloved, there's no need to embarrass them," his father tutted playfully.

"Am I? It was unintentional," she gasped, and Draco wanted to tell her that she knew damn well what she was doing. "I suppose my curiosity has gotten the better of me, though it's never too early to start planning."

All eyes turned to Amaris, who stared at the table's centerpiece, her face as red as the cranberry sauce.

"I haven't given it much thought," she stammered, shaking her head. "Only a little." She absentmindedly pushed her food around with her fork. "When I was a little girl, mom and I used to pick wildflowers that grew in the field—little white and yellow ones—and we would weave them into chains. She used to braid them into my hair and we pretended I was the flower princess." She smiled at the memory. "I suppose I've always imagined something like that. Being outside, flowers in my hair." Her bare shoulder lifted in a delicate shrug. "A small wedding, surrounded by close friends and family. In the summer, just after sunset, when it's finally cool. We would have our first dance under the stars. Cygnus, Lyra, Draco, and Scorpius are at their most visible in the summer."

Draco's brows lifted in surprise. Hadn't given it much thought? She knew exactly what she wanted, and when he tried to imagine them together like that, he felt heat creep up his neck. He hadn't given any thought to how his wedding would go—something big and flashy and important, probably. A few years ago, he might've mocked her country fantasy and its simplicity, but now it just embarrassed him.

"That sounds lovely," his mother said with a smile.

Amaris looked flustered again. "Of course, I'm sure Pureblood weddings are very different. I understand the public importance of binding certain families together and the need for a grander event. I wouldn't dream of going against tradition and would defer completely to your expertise on the matter."

His mother and father smiled proudly as Draco just gazed at her. He almost believed her. Almost believed they really would be getting married in less than a year.

"Well, traditionally, the two of you would court for at least a year," his mother explained, "but Draco thought a short engagement would be best."

Draco went stone-still in horror. Amaris looked at him in surprise—more like he'd sprouted a second head—and he could only clench his jaw. The short engagement had been his parents' idea, not his! Not that he had protested when they mentioned it—had even looked forward to it—but the damn woman was putting words in his mouth intentionally.

"A summer wedding would be difficult to arrange on such short notice," she continued, "especially with you both still in school, but we might be able to bring everything together by fall."

Dinner passed slowly as his mother explained the intricacies of Pureblood weddings. Neither he nor Amaris made many comments, speaking only when asked a question. He couldn't deny that part of him was a bit terrified at how real it had suddenly become.

When dinner finished, dessert followed, and they enjoyed their strawberry trifle as the conversation shifted from marriage to their coming graduation. They discussed school and their favorite subjects, plans for post-education, Quidditch, and Amaris's love of stars. His father and Amaris quickly got carried away discussing things that Draco thought sounded an awful lot like gibberish.

It was almost as though there wasn't a war going on, as though the horrible past year-and-a-half hadn't happened.

"Draco," his father said, "why don't you show Amaris the telescope while your mother and I finish up."

Draco's father was mostly done but his mother's spoon still hovered over her dessert. Draco eyed Amaris and she smiled patiently, placing her spoon on the rim of her saucer to indicate she was finished. He hoped she really was, with half of her dessert still in the bowl, but his father was giving him an opportunity to be alone with her and he had every intention of taking it.

"Fine," he said, pushing away from the table. He reached for her chair as she started to stand.

Leading her out of the dining room and up the stairs, he was painfully aware of her heels clicking on the hardwood floor, the gown swishing around her ankles. It reminded him of that Easter at the Selwyn Estate when she had led him up to the gallery. It had felt like they were sneaking off to secret affairs, and it felt that way once again…

He led her into the open, spacious library with its domed, glass ceiling, rows of old, mahogany shelves on the left, the grand piano on the right, and a reflector telescope standing by the bay window that opened up to the balcony overlooking the gardens. She gasped in awe, gaze bouncing around the room as she slowly walked inside. He closed the door behind them and shoved his hands in his pockets, watching her tour the room. She went to the telescope and tipped it up, taking a look at Merlin knew what.

He gazed at her standing there, so tall in those heels, thin and elegant. She looked like a woman, and that slit in her dress giving him a glimpse of her leg was making him crazy. Her delicate wrists beneath that mesh of black lace set his heart to racing. He slowly moved toward her, desire thrumming through him, his thoughts tumbling around how damn beautiful she looked in that dress and how much more stunning she would be without it.

She lifted her head at the sound of his approach and smiled pleasantly. "You have an amazing telescope," she told him. "Mine is just a refractor. This view is incredible."

"My father would have nothing less than the best."

"Of course," she agreed playfully, and they gazed at one another from over the telescope until it became so awkward that Draco felt the power shift in his favor.

"You were very convincing," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"Pureblood weddings, deferring to my mother's judgment. I almost believed you mean to go through with it." He watched her gaze drop, her fingernail gently scraping over the black cylinder between them.

"Draco, you told me you didn't mean for this to happen," she murmured. "Well, I didn't mean for you to get stuck with me either. You're willing to go so far to protect me, and I don't know if the more selfish response is to let you or stop you." She stopped scratching at the scope, smoothing her fingers over it instead, back and forth. "I'm not pretending with your parents. I told my uncle I would marry you and I will."

Draco's heart began beating rapidly. She wasn't pretending—at least not about marrying him. She didn't choose him and she thought he had gotten stuck with her—and part of him preferred her to think that way, to save face—but as long as she was willing to marry him, there was a chance they could find happiness.

Draco smirked. "Hayden must have thrown a tantrum when she found out."

Her eyes jumped to him. "Why?"

"She hates me, of course," he scoffed. A mischievous glint in her eyes wiped the smirk off his face. "What?"

"She doesn't like you," she agreed, beginning a slow walk around the room, "but she doesn't hate you, either."

Draco frowned, following her. "What does that mean?"

"It was Locke who first suggested to me that you broke my shoes over summer because you were trying to spare me the pain. She thought you had a crush on me."

"I what?" he blurted, feeling heat creep into his face.

"She was so angry because she thought I was being forced to marry you like I was being forced to marry Gregory, but I told her it wasn't true. That you were trying to protect me." She bit her lip to fight her smile. "She said, and I quote, that you were more of a gentleman than she gave you credit for."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I find her credit worth less than all the Weasleys put together."

Amaris let her hand drift along the grand piano, nervously tapping the rim. "You let her believe something had happened between us that night I wore her tie."

A grin slowly formed on his lips. "I would have given a hundred galleons to see the look on her face when you told her the truth."

"She was terrified," Amaris gently chided him.

"Good." Draco nodded at the instrument beneath her palm. "Do you play?"

"No," she admitted. "I tried to learn when I was a girl, but I could never get my feet to operate independently from my hands."

Draco snorted in amusement as he came to stand beside her. He had expected her to say she wasn't very musical or had trouble with the keys. The pedals, though small and out of the way, were an integral part to playing that he often failed to consider.

"You're laughing at me," she complained.

"No," he said, shaking his head, but he was smiling. "But I suppose drums were out of the question."

"Just another dream dashed," she teased. "Do you play?"

"Of course." He sat down, lifted the fallboard, and let his fingers hammer out a few cords. "And quite well," he assured her, and then he played the beginning of one of the more complex pieces he felt confident enough to go through. He had fallen out of practice in the last few years and had played very little. Music hadn't been a passion of his, but a point of refinement as the Malfoy heir.

"That was lovely," she said as he finished his selection.

"Of course, it was," he said with a grin, lowering the fallboard. "But I am curious, for someone so incapable at moving their hands while tapping their toes, how is it that you manage to dance so spectacularly?"

She chuckled nervously as he stood, her face darkening with heat. Even with her heels on, she still had to look up at him, more so as he stepped closer to her.

"I…have a very capable partner," she answered.

"Yes," he agreed, taking her hand. "I am exceedingly talented."

Her eyes sparkled with laughter as she placed her other hand on his shoulder. He looked at her waist wrapped with black fabric and lace, and he wondered if he touched her, would he have any restraint at all?

Just as his hand slid along her hip, the call came for them to come down to open presents. A flash of disappointment crossed her face as they separated.

Draco led her downstairs where his mother had them pose for a picture. Then, they went into the sitting room—the only room in the house decorated for Christmas this year—and sat down by the tree. His mother passed out the Selwyn family's presents and handed Amaris hers. There was a moment where the only sounds were that of the fire popping and gift-wrapping ripping, quickly followed by compliments and gratitude.

Amaris stood up and handed Draco a small box wrapped in green and gold paper then sat down next to him on the couch. He quickly opened it to find a pair of silver cufflinks bearing the Malfoy family crest, a match to his tie pin.

His eyes flicked up to hers as warmth spread down his body. She was smiling, hope in her eyes. He gave her a small, sincere smile in return.

"They're perfect," he said quietly. Her smile brightened.

"May I?" she asked, holding her hands out for the box. He swallowed thickly and nodded, handing it over. She gently removed the cufflinks he was wearing and replaced them with the ones she had gifted him. "There," she said when she was done.

Draco didn't even look at them, too focused on her eyes. He was beginning to lose count of how many times he had wanted to kiss her in a single night. Was this how their life would be if they were married? He could see them preparing for some fancy party, her helping him with his cufflinks and tie, him hooking her necklace and zipping up her dress, stealing a kiss before the festivities began…

Coming out of his thoughts, he cleared his throat, reached into his jacket pocket, and withdrew a black velvet jewelry box. Inside was a pair of gold earrings with pearl briolettes dangling from a grape-like cluster of pearls. They weren't custom-made, just something he'd found in a shop, so not at all what he would consider a proper engagement gift, but they were acceptable.

Amaris gasped, bringing one hand to her mouth in shock. "They're beautiful," she whispered, delicately touching a fingertip to them. This time, when she looked at him and said, "Thank you, Draco," there was so much more emotion in her face and voice than when he'd given her the first engagement gift.

He just nodded, gaze bouncing around the room as she tried them on. His parents quickly pretended to be fascinated with their own gifts, but he knew they'd been watching. The realization made him blush. He stood up and walked away, to the far side of the room, running a finger inside his collar as though it would help him breathe better.

"How do they look?" Amaris asked his mother, and she gushed in approval.

"Son," his father said, coming up beside him. "That was a fine gift you selected."

Draco nodded again, and the two men turned to watch the women chatting happily by the tree.

"Father," Draco began, his heart racing in his chest as he stared at a smiling Amaris, his earrings bouncing on her ears as she talked animatedly with his mother. "Grandmother and grandfather expected you to marry out of Hogwarts, too, didn't they?" he asked and his father nodded. "How did you know mother was the one?"

His father didn't answer right away. He stared at his wife for a long moment before speaking, fondness on his face and love in his eyes.

"I found that it was harder to breathe when she and I were apart, and no matter the length of time between us, it never got easier." He looked at Draco. "There were other witches, beautiful and intelligent, who were candidates to my engagement, but every time, my heart turned back toward your mother. She was the only women I could think of, and she still is—my closest friend and my better half in every way."

Draco smiled. He had always been moved by his parents' love for each other. He had wanted that kind of love for himself, though he never expected to find it so young. No witch had ever inspired him the way his mother had inspired his father—not any of the witches he had fooled around with at school, and certainly not Pansy. But he could honestly say he could relate a little to those feelings when he thought of Amaris. He had always thought it would be love at first sight, which was why he had spent so long rejecting the notion that she could be his match, but when he thought of the three things to which he was devoted—his family, himself, and being the best at whatever he put his mind to—he realized Amaris had somehow taken his own place on that list, or at least occupied it with him.

Amaris was not his closest friend nor was it hard to breathe when they were apart, but he was fairly sure he was in love with her all the same. Because it no longer mattered to him that she was a blood traitor. He wanted to be with her anyway.

"You and Amaris seem very happy together, Draco," his father observed. "Do you think she is the one?"

Draco gazed at her before nodding.

"Then that happiness will last," his father said.

The two men stood off to the side, talking quietly as they watched their women chatting happily, and Draco felt contentment wash over him. He rather enjoyed this—the four of them together as a family.

As the evening wore on, the Malfoy men joined the women for hot cider by the fire and they talked until it was so late that they were all surprised when his father checked the time and saw the clock read ten.

"I can't believe it's so late already," his mother remarked.

"The time certainly got away from us," his father agreed.

"You couldn't possibly go out at this hour," she said, turning to Amaris. "Tippy will prepare the guest room for you."

Draco's heart began thumping harder. Amaris would be staying overnight?

His father nodded. "I'll take you home first thing in the morning, if you want," he promised, "or you could join us for breakfast."

"I don't want to impose," Amaris said, looking uncomfortable.

"It's no imposition," his mother assured her.

"I'll contact Sagun," his father said, "and let him know you'll be staying the night."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy," she said with a small smile, but Draco could tell how nervous she was.

"Draco, my love," his mother said, "find Amaris something to sleep in, please."

"What exactly do you want me to get?" he balked, hoping no one could see that he was just as nervous as Amaris was.

"One of your older sets might fit her," she answered.

Draco went up to his room to dig around in his dresser for one of his old flannel sets and selected the smallest one he could find—a black pair covered in tiny broomsticks and snitches. It might have embarrassed him handing them to her if the idea of her wearing them wasn't more embarrassing.

When he went into the hall, he found her standing nervously at the guest room door across the way. There was something even more nerve-wrecking about seeing her there in that sexy, black dress and knowing she was about to take it off.

He cleared his throat and handed her the bundle of fabric. "Here."

"Thank you…"

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, unsure of what to say next. She stood there, holding the clothes against her chest, staring at his tie. Awkward silence stretched between them.

"Goodnight," he said quickly and turned around.

"Goodnight," she echoed and hurried into her room.

Draco went into his bedroom, tore his jacket off, unpinned his tie then yanked it off, and began pacing. As he paced, he removed his cufflinks and set them by his tie pin on his dresser then rolled up his sleeves. He must have walked for fifteen minutes before he heard his mother gently knocking on Amaris's door. He couldn't tell what they said, but it lasted only a minute before he heard her footsteps down the hall. His father followed soon after and their bedroom door clicked closed.

Draco took his shoes off, untucked his shirt, and unbuttoned the top few buttons before dropping onto his bed and staring up at the ceiling. He wasn't tired at all. The idea of dressing for bed and going to sleep seemed impossible. He was too anxious, too aware of every single sound happening in the house. Normally he was listening for the horrible noises the Dark Lord and his followers brought into his home, a psychological war where winning battles was simply not letting it get to him. But this time, the person in his house was not unwelcome and his entire body was tense with something other than fear.

He didn't know how long he lay there—an hour, maybe longer—before he heard the guest room door open, but the moment it did, he was on his feet and padding to his door. He peeked out and saw Amaris heading for the library. He checked to make sure his parents' lights were out then slipped out of his room and followed her.

Draco quietly entered the library and was unsurprised to find her at the telescope, looking at the night sky. She wore his pajamas with her long hair let loose, and she looked so much smaller with how big on her even his smallest pair of flannels were. As he drew nearer, he let his footsteps make enough noise to alert her to his presence. Her head snapped up in surprise. When she saw him, she relaxed, a sheepish expression flitting over her face.

"I couldn't sleep," she confessed. He shrugged as if to say it was no big deal. She released the telescope and turned to face him as he came to stand before her. Her gaze bounced over his rumpled shirt nervously. "It's been so long since I've spent time with your parents. It was nice." She looked away. "It reminded me of fifth year. I could almost forget about all of the bad things happening right now…"

Draco studied her face, noting the way she wouldn't meet his eyes. He wondered if she was thinking of any bad thing in particular. "Is your tutor really missing?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes. I'm afraid something terrible happened to her."

"Why?"

"Uncle said he came home one day and she was just gone, but all of her things are still in her room. There was no note, and no one has heard from her since—no trace of her anywhere."

Unease that he and his family could somehow be responsible stirred in his gut, but he did not feel remorse. He was glad she was gone.

"Good," he said.

"Draco!" Amaris blurted, finally looking him in the eyes.

"What? I'm not sorry. She was a manky bitch."

She looked away again. "I…I wanted her out of my life," she admitted guiltily, as though such thoughts made her complicit. "But I didn't want anything bad to happen to her."

"Of course, you didn't," he scoffed. "You're too nice, even to the people who treat you—" like garbage, that's what Goyle had told him, and it rankled him to know how right he was "—poorly. Forget her."

Amaris hesitantly met his gaze, nervousness flickering there, and he wondered why. Was it because they were alone and it was dark? Draco's eyes roamed over her, feeling emboldened. He had been nervous with her in her black dress, looking like a woman, sexy and strong. But her standing there in his pajamas, she was once again the seventeen-year-old Hufflepuff, and he found this version of her attractive, too, just in a different way. An attainable way.

"What is it?" he asked when she glanced away.

"You're just…rarely so disheveled," she answered, and Draco almost got offended, wanting to snap back that she was wearing his oversized pajamas, so where did she get off judging his appearance? But then it hit him…

Fifth year, she had said something very similar to him the day he had kissed her. I've just…never seen you so dressed down. At the time, he hadn't thought much of it, but seeing her so affected now made him realize the truth: she was attracted to him like this.

Draco grinned and she blushed. He put his hands in his pockets and tilted his head at her so his hair fell across his forehead. "So, what you're saying is," he took a step toward her, "you think I'm sexy."

Her blue eyes met his, and this time he could see the attraction clearly. She took a step back, her fingers twisting together anxiously.

"I've always found you handsome," she replied diplomatically.

"Mhm," he hummed happily, reveling in her nervousness.

"Your family has a nice Christmas tradition," she said, trying to change the subject. "My uncle isn't very festive."

"This year is nothing compared to how it used to be," he bragged. "You remember fifth year."

She nodded. "The decorations were lovely, but I meant the way you all spend time together. It felt nice to be with a family again," she said softly. "Your mother is so sweet to me."

"She adores you."

"But when she finds out—"

"No one is going to find out," he interrupted her. "Besides, she's so eager to plan this wedding, I doubt she'd even care."

She would. He knew she would. But he didn't want to discuss it. Amaris didn't look like she believed him, either, but she had the grace not to call him out.

"You didn't really ask to shorten the engagement, did you?" she asked.

"Of course not," he spat.

"I didn't think so." She chuckled. "Can you imagine?"

"What?"

"What our friends would say if we married?" she asked. He was on the verge of getting offended and telling her that if he, of all people, didn't care what others thought then how could she, but then she went on, pitching her voice higher to imitate another person. "Why, did you hear? Draco Malfoy got married to Amaris Grey." Her tone pitched lower as she said, "Amaris who?" She answered in a higher pitch. "That timid little Hufflepuff girl." She pretended to gasp, continuing her back and forth between imaginary people. "No! They weren't even friends, were they? Never even had lunch together. But isn't he the heir of one of the most Pureblood-supremacist families in the magical world? Why, yes, that's him. But isn't she friends with Muggle-borns? Yes, she certainly was. How odd, indeed! Yes, it's always the quiet ones you can never be certain about!"

Draco's brows lifted in amusement, his smirk asking if she was completely serious about this nonsense. "Lunch?"

"And your friends would say—" she started.

"My friends?"

"Your friends," she confirmed, "would say, Draco Malfoy is married? To who?" Her voice changed pitch again. "Amaris Grey. You mean that spineless, bleeding heart Hufflepuff?" She nodded sagely. "That's the one. How on earth did he get stuck with Lady Gravefoot? Poor Draco!"

Draco laughed and took another step toward her. "No one calls you that."

"Hm?"

"No one calls you Lady Gravefoot except Pansy and her friends, and only out of jealousy, because everyone knows you're bloody gorgeous."

Her breath caught in her throat, face instantly flushing bright red. She looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes tinged with fear. "N-no, I…I'm…"

"You're fucking stunning," he muttered as he stepped so close to her that their bodies were practically touching. "I never lied to you about that."

Slowly, so as to give her plenty of time to run, he bent down and kissed her softly. Within moments, she began to kiss him back. Their lips moved together slow and gentle for only a few moments before the gentlemanly part of his brain began to shut off, desire overtaking his sense.

They were in his house, alone. Everyone was asleep. She was wearing his pajamas. And he had wanted this for two years.

Draco angled her jaw to deepen the kiss and drew her into him with a palm between her shoulder blades. Her hands pressed to his chest, fingers curling into the folds of his shirt and, as he continued to kiss her, those hands began to flatten against him, tentatively sliding up to his shoulders. He leaned into her, bending her backward and forcing her to wrap her arms around his neck.

His heart was racing, ferrying his blood straight to his groin until, as Theo would say, his wand was very much at the ready. His free hand slid along her hip as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her flush against him. When his erection pressed into her stomach, he both heard and felt the tiny noise she made in the back of her throat.

Draco pushed his hand up into her shirt, fingers sliding against the bare flesh of her back, her side, her stomach and up onto her ribcage. Just as his knuckles brushed the underside of her breast, a loud noise startled them both apart. Panting, they stood stark still and listened as footsteps clacked across the foyer and faded away. It seemed Aunt Bellatrix was home… He hoped it was only her.

They listened for a full few minutes but no other sounds came from downstairs. Relief washed over him for only a second until the reality of the situation came crashing down over his head in embarrassing waves.

Draco looked at Amaris staring at the ground, face pale in the moonlight, eyes filled with equal parts fear and humiliation, chest still rising and falling with deep breaths. He swallowed the lump in his throat, grasping for something to say to her. The mood was ruined, of course. There was no salvaging it. But if he wanted another chance with her any time soon, he had to handle the situation with tact.

But why the bloody hell was it that every time he kissed this woman, someone interrupted them?

"I'll walk you to your room," he said evenly, hoping he had managed to keep his personal frustrations out of his tone. She nodded stiffly and moved toward the door without looking at him. Draco tightened his jaw, biting back a sneer and the impulse to bark at her for being so timid, so cold.

When they reached her door, she stepped inside, whispered, "Goodnight," and then closed the door.

Draco went back to his room, changed into his pajamas—flannel bottoms and a black t-shirt—and flopped onto the bed. He listened for noises but, for the first time in a long time, the house was completely quiet.

His mind replayed the night over and over again, his imagination extending their kiss as he slowly peeled off her clothes and took her on the chaise. His fantasies had her wearing the black dress and them rutting in his bed, conjured her in a field with flowers in her hair and them making love under the stars, showed her wearing nothing but a set of moon-drop jewelry and them coupling by a fire and a Christmas tree.

It took him a long time to fall asleep.


Author's Note: Sorry this took so long to get out. Lots of rewrites! I also adjusted my sleeping schedule, but I used to primarily work on this story before bed, so still trying to find a balance there. It was nice to write them all having a peaceful evening (though Merlin knows I struggled with it in spite of how excited I was to write it). It's been too long! I was worried it might seem off-tone, but their get together is only a few hours long. I think they can force some normalcy for that long.