Lucius was already in the Potions room when Lily made it down there, after everyone else had seemingly gone to bed in Gryffindor. Most of her classmates would travel home for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, so sensible students had an early night ready for the journey back to King's Cross, and onwards from there. The carriages — she shuddered to think about how, now, she knew that they weren't really flightless — would bore them to Hogsmeade Station bright and early. Lily didn't think she'd be bushy tailed for it, though, not if she wanted to spend the last few untarnished moments with Lucius, before the whole thing fell apart.

Which it most certainly would, as soon as the castle was full of people again. They had been afforded the luxury of a small bubble, where nothing felt quite as real as it might if they were dodging questions from friends, or trying to make time for each other in between terribly long essays. A bubble where they were both together, and not together, depending on who was asked. Definitely more than friends — although Lily still strained to think of herself even calling Lucius a friend, before this, anyway. But she hoped, at least, that she would be able to call him a friend afterwards. Hoped that he both wanted to, and that she would have the strength to maintain that.

But what would friends with Lucius even look like? Would they still hide it away, behind closed doors? She would be his friend defiantly, like she was with Severus. No one would stop her there. But Lucius… She thought of his friends, the way she caught them looking at her sometimes. Maybe it was paranoia, thanks to every Daily Prophet article that made her feel like she might not always be welcome in the wizarding world. But maybe, just maybe…

But looking at him, illuminating by the glow of the candles in that dingy dungeon classroom, her heart clenched and she couldn't help but push all her worries and doubts aside. Right now, she had this. Right now, they were still within the bubble. And wouldn't she regret it? To worry about the future instead of sucking the marrow out of these moments?

"We forgot to set a time," Lucius said, and his drawling voice made her shiver. Made her think of his ragged moans of her name in her ear.

Oh, this was no good at all.

"We did," Lily said, smiling. She walked further into the classroom, but stopped by a cauldron halfway in. She would let him come the rest of the way. "Did you have a nice day?"

He smirked. "Do you want to hear about my day?"

"Yes," she said carefully. She put her hands on her hips. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to know."

"You look cute when you do that," he said, waving at her arms. He crossed the rest of the way to come stand in front of her, her peering up at him. He smelt of musk and strawberries and she wanted to kiss him so badly but she demurred.

"How was your day?"

He sighed. "It was okay. Nothing as exciting as yours, I hear."

Lily frowned, her cheeks colouring.

"What does that mean?"

Lucius shrugged, and Lily thought it was meant to look nonchalant but it was anything but. "You know, if you get cosy in The Three Broomsticks, people are bound to see and gossip, well, you know…"

He was watching her carefully, but every few seconds, his gaze flicked to his feet. His mouth was twisted into a smile, but Lily was not convinced by it.

She laughed instead.

"You mean, Remus?" she said, shaking her head. "He's my friend."

Lucius held his hands out in front of him, as if warded off his defence.

"Hey now, whatever you get up to, we're not, you know, we never discussed if we could —"

She took his hands in hers.

"You can't be serious! Remus and I are literally just friends. Merlin, I only went for a drink with him!"

"I heard there was some hand holding," Lucius said. His voice was quiet, embarrassed. Even in the candlelight, Lily was sure his cheeks were pink.

Lily laughed again.

"For about two seconds, because he was sad I was leaving for Christmas, leaving him with a bunch of Gryffindors he barely knows to eat his Christmas dinner with. Honestly, Lucius!" she said. She shook her head. "You know what gossip is like. Remus isn't interested in me. In fact, to the best of my knowledge, he's involved with someone right now."

Lucius nodded, his face turning almost red — which Lily hadn't been sure was possible before this.

"I'm sorry I made you jealous," she said, reaching out and squeezing his arm.

He practically jumped out of her grasp, eyes going wide.

"No — I'm not — no, it's just — well — it's not jealously," he said. He stopped, blinking at her for a few seconds before his mouth formed a hard line. Then he spoke again, his tone much more certain, his casual drawl infected his words: "It's not jealously, I was just wondering. Wouldn't you wonder, if you heard I'd blown you off to cosy up with some girl?"

She looked up at him, and her mouth opened a few times, but she kept closing it. There was something worming its way inside her — anger, perhaps, but she wasn't quite sure at what.

"Do you really think I blew you off?" she said, finally, not sure where to start on the rest of his question. Anything she did have to say was a discussion not best had the night before she left, she reckoned.

Lucius sighed, his shoulders relaxing a few inches. She was glad to see it. She hated when he spoke to her with the same self-control he exhibited around everyone else. When his public persona was on, she wasn't sure she liked him very much, if she was being quite honest — but she shoved that thought away. Again, these things were not best examined tonight.

"No," he said. "Sorry. I'm just tired. And well… I'm going to, you know—"

Lily waited, but he didn't continue. His gaze left hers and his eyes instead roved her shoulders, as if inspecting them.

Could he be saying what she wanted to say to him? She pursed her lips as the seconds ticked by, but there was nothing gained where there was nothing ventured. So she said:

"I'm going to miss you." Then she held her breath, and looked up at him.

His eyes slid back to hers, his eyebrows momentarily darting up in surprise. Maybe she had misjudged the situation. But then his lips curled into a smile and her stomach knotted in response. In the candlelight, with his hair falling in front of his left eye and that sly smile, it was easy to remember why she couldn't resist him.

"I'm going to miss you too," Lucius said. He leant down and planted a warm kiss on her lips. But he pulled away before he could return it. "Sorry for being weird."

"It's not that weird, is it, to wonder about what your — what your — what I'm up to," she said, and she looked down, hoping her hair would cover the reddening of her cheeks as she almost stumbled on what to call herself. Certainly not girlfriend. And yet "fuckbuddy", as casually as her roommate Seph might say it, was inelegant and vulgar. "Anyway. Let's forget it. I need to go to bed soon, I just want to spend some time with you."

"Oh yeah? And what kind of quality time were you thinking?" he said, grinning at her.

It didn't take them long before they were fucking the floor. And afterwards, Lily's breath still coming in short puffs, she rolled onto her elbows and looked at him quite seriously in the dim dungeon light.

"So what happens? When I get back?" she said. She hadn't wanted to ask, still didn't really want to. But she imagined herself at home, wondering at that very question, and needling herself for being too cowardly to actually ask.

He propped himself up on his elbows to join her, and planted a soft kiss on her sweaty forehead. He didn't complain about it.

"I don't know," he said quietly, and he sounded like he meant it. There was just the hint of resignation in his tone. "I wish I had a better answer for you."

She shrugged. Or did her best approximation of a shrug while being propped on elbows. But she didn't quite feel like he was being truthful with her. He must have some idea — he knew what he wanted out of this. She realised that he had dictated a lot of the terms, though he did always ask her. She didn't mind, usually, so out of her depth that she didn't even know what questions to ask, let alone the answers. But here, when it meant she would come back to the unknown after Christmas Day?

"I take it," she said, then stopped, cleared her throat. It was harder to get the words out than she expected — harder not to sound too petty or whiny or needy. She tried again. "We'll want to keep it secret, still, won't we? That won't change after Christmas, will it?"

She didn't look at him while she spoke, her eyes trained dutifully on the wall in front of her. But she heard him sigh beside her, and she wondered, idly, how she had even gotten to this point. Where she lay on the cold, stone ground of the dungeons, trying not to come off too clingy, to a boy that three weeks ago, she would have said she liked but didn't want to spend time with, even if he was good looking.

No, she had already told herself that this wouldn't do! That's why she had to know, what he actually wanted from her, so she could make decisions. So to hell with being needy. She raised her chin up, and rolled her head to the side to look at Lucius.

He was studying her face already.

"I don't think so, Lily," he said quietly. He reached up and stroked the hair that fell upon her shoulders, eliciting a shiver from her as his fingers danced lightly across her skin. His lips twisted one way and then the other, never quite forming a grimace. "But we could try, if you wanted to?"

Lily sat up, and put her top back on. It was getting cold, now the sweat was drying on her skin and Lucius was no longer wrapped around her. She took extra time, buttoning up the front of her blouse, before carefully pulling her jumper over her head and shaking out her hair.

That was the million galleon question, wasn't it? Did she want to go public about it?

Certainly, the thought of some of her classmates' faces when they saw her making out with Lucius Malfoy gave her pause, but then that same thought gave her fire to do it. Who cared what people thought? She had never let the petty house rivalries get in the way of her friendship with Sev (indeed, it wasn't her, in her opinion, who was driving a wedge between them).

"I don't know, either, I guess," Lily said at last, when she realised she didn't have a good answer.

Lucius sat up next to her. "I don't think we can know, not until the bubble is popped — until everyone is back. Right now, it doesn't feel quite real, does it?"

Lily shook her head.

He leaned over and kissed her clothed shoulder.

"Then let's talk, after Christmas."

Lily's eyebrows shot up. "Was there any doubt that we'd talk?"

Lucius made a noise in his throat.

"I obviously meant, we'd talk specifically about this. There's no way you're getting out of telling me how your Christmas went," he said, a grin appearing on his lips.

They lay there for some time, her head on his still naked shoulder, listening to his heartbeat faintly, feeling the warmth of his skin. Neither of them spoke, and Lily thought that Lucius was doing the same as she: savouring the quiet moment, trying to solidify every detail of his breath and the tickle of his chest hair against her cheek, in case it was lost after this night. Even the cold hardness of the stone beneath her was not enough to stop her lavishing in every second.

Finally, after maybe twenty minutes had passed, Lucius kissed the top of her head.

"You'll get no sleep, if we stay down here any longer," he said softly.

She groaned. "Can't we just stay here forever?"

She listened to his laugh reverberate round his chest.

"As much as I'd like that, I think you'll be sorry tomorrow morning."

Lily huffed, and dragged herself up to sitting, and Lucius did the same next to her. She listened to the rustle of clothes as he got dressed, before finally getting up herself.

He was right of course; she was far too tired already, and going home always required more energy than she expected.

At the door, she turned and stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

"Goodnight, Lucius," she said. "Merry Christmas."

And then, because she knew if she stayed she would surely get a bit silly and weepy, she began to walk away. But Lucius caught her by the wrist, and pulled her gently towards him. He wrapped her arms around her, and she heard him inhale the scent of her hair. It turned her insides gooey immediately. Was it possible, at all, that he felt even a fraction as strongly as she did?

"I'm going to miss you, you know," he said, and she could hear the way his voice shook, for just a second as the word 'miss' slipped out, like he hadn't expected. He pulled her even tighter.

She nodded into his jumper.

"Me too," she said. "But with you."

She stood wrapped in his arms for — she wasn't sure how long, but it wasn't long enough. Then she felt his grip slacken.

"Merry Christmas to you too," he said, and he titled her face towards him, pressing his lips towards her. She really had to ask, some time, how he always tasted like strawberries. She pressed back. "Goodnight."

She stood back, and was about to watch him walk away himself, before a rush of courage filled her. Or perhaps, rather than courage, it was actually a rush of emotion too strong for her to stifle, she wasn't sure. One way or another, the words weren't staying down.

"Lucius," she said. He stopped, turned, his grey eyes shadowed in the hallway, but trained on her, as always. She took a deep breath. "I think I'm falling for you."

She bit her lip. Couldn't breathe again, could only watch his face. He blinked once, and then it was at its most unreadable, his lips making no shapes she could discern, his eyebrows remaining where they should be. But then she saw the faint line between his brows. What did that mean? That he was thinking of letting her down her gently? Or that…perhaps…

"I — " he started, and then she watched his lips clamp down. He tried again: "I think I'm falling for you too."

Her emotions were roaring through her, too many and too numerous to name, a jumble in her veins and ears and tasting like pennies in her mouth. It was about all she could do to say: "Okay. That's good then. I think. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Lucius said. His face didn't change, but she thought she detected something almost sheepish in the way he said it. But, given how loudly her heart was beating, it was possibly she didn't hear anything over that.

She nodded once, turned on her heel, and walked back towards the staircase, her whole body trembling like a leaf. It took all her strength not to turn back, to see if Lucius was still there.

He felt the same. He felt the same. He felt the same.