July 1995
Since her father's focus was still on capturing unfaithful death eaters, Florence saw no problem in allowing Elizabeth to spend an afternoon with Draco at the Diagon Alley.
The young couple would meet in the Leaky Cauldron, have tea at Madam Asterope's and buy some books at the Flourish and Blotts.
Diagon Alley
Draco Malfoy walked into the Flourish and Blots and all eyes turned to him – more specifically to the beautiful girl beside him. He felt a little self-conscious by all the attention, Elizabeth, though, seemed completely oblivious to the number of heads she turned whenever she walked into a place.
"I'm used to it, Draco." She shrugged one day after he'd glared at a considerable number of men – older men – who stared at his almost-thirteen-year-old girlfriend.
That summer day, Liz wore a dark green shirtwaist dress with a delicate flower pattern on the skirt, and the interlaced double Gs he had already seen in many of her dresses.
After their last encounter, Liz had briefly schooled him on designer clothes when he asked her what the Gs stood for, and since then he was able to recognize many of the brands she wore – and he could even name her favourite ones.
No one could accuse Draco Malfoy of not knowing anything about muggles; he knew that the L and the V meant Louis Vuitton, and the double Gs were for Gucci. However, he seemed to always forget the name of the red bottom shoes Liz occasionally wore, he only remembered it was from some guy named Christian.
"What can I do for you today, Mr. Malfoy?" Asked Peter Flourish, one of the owners of the bookshop.
"I need Hogwarts' fifth-year books, Mr. Flourish." He replied before turning to Liz, "Do you need anything, love?"
"I already have my books, Draco." She turned to the clerk, "But I saw an Advanced Spells book in the window that I'd like to purchase, Mr. Flourish."
"Of course, Miss." He flicked his wand and a copy of the book she requested came flying towards them. "Would you like your books to be delivered at the Manor, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Of course. I certainly won't be carrying them myself." He replied dryly, not liking the way the man was looking at his girlfriend.
"I'll take my book with me, sir." Said Elizabeth.
The clerk looked from the girl to Draco, finally noticing he had a hand on her back. "Your girlfriend, Mr. Malfoy?"
The blond teen smiled and kissed her hand. "Yes. All mine."
"Lucky man, you are, sir."
"He certainly is." She agreed, smiling at Draco. "And so am I."
The man seemed surprised by the girl's reply.
"Hogwarts too, Miss?"
"No, sir, Beauxbatons." She replied.
Then he seemed really impressed. But before he could say anything, they heard:
"There you are, Draco!"
"Shit." The boy whispered, as he recognized the man's voice. "My father." he explained to her, looking around nervously but finding nowhere to hide Liz.
Elizabeth frowned at her boyfriend's sudden fear and turned to look at the man who instilled such feelings on him. A tall blond man was walking towards them with a silver and black walking cane, his light blue eyes very similar to Draco's but they were cold and unfriendly while her boyfriend's were kind and filled with adorable mischief.
Now mom's cloaking spell will be put to the test. She realized, worriedly.
If Lucius Malfoy found out who her parents were, he'd certainly tell the Dark Lord, who would want to meet her in the future. And, as innocent as she was, Elizabeth had read more than enough already to have a pretty good idea of what happened to beautiful women in a room full of corrupted men.
"Were you hiding from me, boy?" Lucius growled, hitting his son's leg with his cane. "And who's this?" his eyes fell on Elizabeth and he smirked.
"I'm 'is girlfriend, sir. Elizabeth Delacour."
Draco frowned. Was she speaking with an accent?
"Girlfriend?" Lucius seemed impressed. "How on earth did you get yourself a French girlfriend, Draco?"
He looked his father in the eye – if Liz could find the courage to face the man, Draco had to do it too.
"The TriWizard Tournament, father. Liz studies at Beauxbatons."
Lucius nodded, clearly approving of her. "Beautiful and attending an expensive school. What about your parents, Miss Delacour?"
She knew what he was asking. "Both wizards, sir."
"Good. Very good." He openly ogled her. "Does your mother know of her, Draco?"
"No." Draco lied, knowing that if he said Narcissa knew, his father would hurt her for hiding it from him.
Lucius tried to ask her something, but suddenly couldn't remember what he was about to say.
Liz froze, knowing that was the moment he'd most likely ask her some detail about her parents. She watched as he struggled to speak, and let out a discreet relieved breath when, in the end, he was unable to put the sentence together.
But Lucius kept staring at Liz, looking at her face for a while longer before standing up tall again.
"I must say I'm very pleased with your choice, Draco. And I'm done with my businesses in the Alley so I'm heading home. But I believe you want a few more hours here."
"Yes, father."
"Stay for as long as you like, son. Goodbye, Miss Delacour, hope to see you again."
They watched him go and exhaled in relief, at the same time, once the door closed behind the man.
Draco wrapped his arms around her waist. "I must say you kept your cool pretty well, love."
"My own father doesn't scare me, Draco. Your father is nothing next to him."
"True." He smiled. "It seems that your mother's cloaking spell worked as expected; but don't you think we should tell her about what happened just now?"
"Yeah, maybe you're right." She whispered, worrying her bottom lip.
Then she discreetly walked to the bathroom and sent her mother a Patronus message.
And they waited for her reply.
Twenty minutes later
Draco walked out of the fireplace and found himself inside a beautiful home. The living room had a very high ceiling, giving one the sensation of it being bigger than it truly was. A floor-to-ceiling glass window flooded the space with light, making Draco feel embraced and comforted by the whole atmosphere.
That was what he had always imagined a family house should feel like: peaceful, bright, comfortable, with toys on the floor and the smell of cookies in the air.
He looked at the many pictures on the walls, most of them showing kids in various stages of life, and recognized the twins and Liz, and there were other two brown-haired kids that he had never seen before.
"Hey. That's me." He said with a smile, looking at his own smiling six-year-old self having ice-cream with his friends.
He looked around the living room again and sighed. "Your house is amazing, Liz."
"I know. I miss this place so much when I'm at school. And you haven't even tried Tiffany's food yet! By the smell, we'll soon have cookies. We better find them before the twins do." And she pulled him towards the kitchen.
"Already back, Mistress Liz!" exclaimed a very pretty house-elf.
"Yes, Tiff. And I want you to meet someone."
Tiffany looked at Draco and frowned. "Tiffany knows his father. Tiffany does not approve of his family."
Liz smile faded and she looked at Draco, "I'm sorry for that. Tiff is a little suspicious of everyone outside of the family."
"Elizabeth?" they heard Florence calling from the living room.
"C'mon, Draco, let's talk to my mom." And she pulled him to the living room again.
Draco looked at the beautiful woman standing by the sofa and stopped dead in his tracks; the salmon summer dress she had on made Liz's mother look younger and absolutely breath-taking; he felt weird, like he'd been stunned.
"I thought this didn't happen after they knew you." Liz said, frowning at her boyfriend's shocked state.
Florence chuckled. "Draco's never seen me in regular clothes before, just in the professional attire I wear at the castle. He'll come around soon. Help him to the sofa."
"Where's everybody?" Elizabeth asked as she sat beside Draco.
"Your dad is at Hogwarts for the day. Our twins are helping the Weasleys' twins with some prank products – apparently the redheads are opening a business and trouble is what they'll be selling. And Chris and Sophie are at your grandma's. Now, what happened at the bookshop?"
"His father saw us together."
Florence looked at her with worry. "And did my spell work?"
"Yes, it did. Lucius Malfoy seemed to be struggling to talk for a while. I believe that's the moment he was trying to ask me about you and dad."
"Probably." Florence nodded, relieved to know he hadn't been able to speak.
Draco shook his head, starting to come around. "W-what happened?"
"Mom's half-veela." Liz explained, smiling. "You were a little out of it for a moment."
He blushed. "I apologize, ma'am."
"Don't worry, Draco. About what happened with your father: I believe we have nothing to worry about. The spell worked." She looked at him intently. "So if you keep quiet about us, he will never found out about Liz's parents."
"I won't say anything, ma'am." Draco shook his head.
"Good. You can go to the kitchens to get some cookies before Draco floos back to the Leaky Cauldron – do not floo straight home from here. Your father could trace it back."
The boy nodded.
Liz looked at Florence with her beggar's face – letting her mother know that whatever the girl was about to ask meant nothing but trouble
"What is it, Elizabeth?"
"Can I show Draco my new room?"
Florence looked at her knowingly, "Are you asking for my permission to snog your boyfriend in your room, Elizabeth?"
"What? No!" the girl blushed profusely. "That's not what-"
"Twenty minutes, Liz. And then I want you two back here and Draco has to go. It's too risky having him here." Then she fixed her gaze on him. "How old are you, Draco?"
"Fifteen, ma'am."
"And how old is Liz?"
"Almost thirteen, ma'am."
Florence arched an eyebrow at him. "She's twelve, Draco. Not almost thirteen. Not fifteen. Twelve."
He nodded, suddenly a little bit afraid of the usually nice mediwitch.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Stop drilling him, mom! Geez!" and she pulled Draco upstairs.
"You have nineteen minutes now!" Florence shouted.
"Ugh! You're worse than dad sometimes!" Liz shouted from the top of the stairs.
Elizabeth opened a door and pulled Draco inside a very classy feminine room, a double bed sat in the middle of the room, and a beautiful crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling above it. The walls were white but for the largest one behind the bed, which was rose pink with white picture-frame wainscoting. There was a desk to the right of the bed and two more doors to the left that led to an ensuite bathroom and her closet. There was also a fireplace and a loveseat in front of it. That was not at all what Draco had expected, that wasn't a little girl's room – it was the room of a young woman.
He remembered Liz mentioning in one of her letters that her mother was having her bedroom redecorated.
"I still can't believe this is my room." She said, sitting on her bed.
"It's really beautiful." He looked at her, shaking his head as he admired her in that luxurious bedroom.
Elizabeth was the most interesting person he'd ever met. She was gorgeous, wore designer clothes, spoke two languages and studied at a fancy French school. Anyone looking from the outside would say she was shallow and conceited – which couldn't be farther from the truth.
She was confident, well-read, and knew how to enjoy the fine things in life – like expensive clothes and five-stars restaurants.
Elizabeth smiled at him, she could tell he was thinking about her, but she hadn't taken him there to have him look at her for nineteen minutes.
"Time is ticking, Draco." She said, reaching out her hand to him.
"I'm not getting close to you and that bed, Elizabeth." Draco shook his head. "You're two months shy from thirteen. I'm fifteen."
"Why not? You've kissed me plenty of times already. And my age never stopped you before." She crossed her arms on her chest.
"From kissing you. And never near a bed; and that won't change today." He sat on the loveseat in front of her fireplace. "If you want something, you sit here beside me."
She narrowed her eyes at him and stood up, going to sit beside him on the small sofa, facing him.
Draco touched her face and gently pulled her mouth towards his, kissing her slowly. Liz licked his bottom lip and he groaned – she was too young to be the temptress she was.
Every time his lips touched hers, he felt like he was being tortured in the most delicious way. The age difference between them, albeit small, kept him from touching her like his fifteen-year-old hormone-filled mind desired.
"Touch me, Dray." She whispered against his lips, putting his hands on her waist.
"Fuck, Liz. You cannot say things like that." He kissed her once more and got out of the sofa, putting some distance between them.
"We're soul mates, Draco!" She said, getting close to him. "Age is just a number." Her hands touching his chest.
He felt lost in the heat he could see in her eyes and he agreed before thinking: "Yes, it is."
She kissed him again.
But he stopped her. "No. No. Stop, Liz!"
Sudden knocks on the door interrupted them and Draco had a small heart-attack just imagining it could be his godfather on the other side of that door.
"Time's up!" Said Florence. "Draco better leave before your father arrives."
"Shit." He quickly opened the door. "Thank you, Madam Delacour. You have a lovely house. I'll just go now." He kissed Liz once more, quickly, and ran downstairs.
Florence looked at her daughter, expecting to see the girl smiling but she seemed angry instead.
"What happened, Liz?"
"Nothing, mother."
"Mother?" Florence snorted and closed the door. "I'll ask one more time, Elizabeth, and then I'll use Legilimency on you. What happened?"
"Fine!" she shouted. "I want him to touch me! But Draco is being a prude!"
Florence looked at her in silence for a moment, surprised – that wasn't the answer she had expected. "Draco is being a prude?"
"Yes! He refuses to touch me! He's my soul mate for fuck's sake!"
"You're twelve, Elizabeth! Draco's being a decent young man!" Florence frowned, not liking that rebellious and libertine attitude of hers. "That's it: you're not meeting up with Draco again until you're fifteen."
Elizabeth looked at her horrified. "What? No! Please, mom! Don't do that!"
"It's done, Elizabeth." Florence declared seriously.
"I'll run away from home!" Liz shouted.
And Florence burst out laughing, "Good luck doing that. You won't survive a day without the house elves. Not to mention: who'll pay for your dry-cleaning or the next Gucci winter collection?"
"That's not fair!" Elizabeth whined. "He's my soul mate! You're acting like a dictator!"
"You're unhappy about it?" Florence's voice dripped with irony. "Go complain to your father."
Liz put on her most fearless face and replied: "I'll tell dad you let me meet with a boy!"
Florence laughed. "Go ahead. I'll certainly enjoy any punishment your father might dish out." Her green eyes sparkled mischievously.
Liz rolled her eyes. "Ugh! TMI!"
"And instead of two years? Your father will perhaps allow you to see Draco in twenty."
Elizabeth looked at her mother with hatred in her dark eyes.
Florence continued: "You can keep writing to him, of course. But no more dates until you learn to behave yourself." she opened the door to leave the room.
"I hate you!" Liz shouted.
But Florence just smiled and closed the door on her way out; James had shouted those words at her more than enough times when he was a preteen – she was neither surprised nor hurt.
Before Draco walked into the fireplace to floo back to the Leaky Cauldron, he inhaled deeply, wanting to take with him a small piece of that homey feel. Where he was going, there was nothing but cold stone walls, dispassionate decor, carefully manicured lawns and a basement kitchen – and he had never hated those things more.
Note: if you're under the impression I am dying to write a smut with this sweet gorgeous couple, YOU'RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT!
But they are still kids!
So NOT HAPPENING!
For now.