A/N:. Keep sending me y'all's suggestions and predictions! I think there will be some VERY strong opinions about this chapter…
Chapter Nine: Mum's The Word
"You look beautiful," Draco said, smiling at his mother in the mirror.
She smiled back.
"Thank you, darling."
She turned back to the mirror, smoothing her simple silk gown. Narcissa Black-Malfoy was as beautiful a bride at 37 as she had been at 17. Her luminous blonde hair had been curled and arranged to perfection, and the dress Amelie Bellenger had designed for her fit her slender frame like a glove.
"Father sends his regards," he said, and she gave a dry smile. "And his regets. He and the mrs. are still on holiday in the Alps."
"Yes, I'm simply devastated he couldn't be here. And I was hoping to finally get a chance to meet Verena. How is she, by the way?"
Draco smiled wryly.
"I have to keep reminding myself she's my stepmother and not my little sister."
Narcissa pursed her lips.
"I still can't believe Lucius married a girl your age."
Draco raised his eyebrows, smiling.
"Jealous, Mum?"
"Terribly," she dryly. "I suppose I will just have to settle for marrying Sebasten instead."
"Indeed," Draco replied.
They were quiet for a few minutes as Draco watched his mother place a glittering diamond circlet on her brow. She looked like legitimate royalty.
"Are you happy?" Draco asked at last, taking a seat on the couch behind her.
She nodded.
"I thought I was happy the day I married your father, but I realize now that I had no idea what happiness really meant back then."
Draco gave a small smile, trying to mask the dull ache her words caused. His mother noticed.
"Thank Merlin for you," she said seriously. "If I hadn't had you, I would have killed myself years ago."
"Mum—" Draco began, but Narcissa turned to face him.
"It's true."
"You hate him that much?"
"You know I do."
"In that case, I don't think you're going to love what I say next."
Narcissa frowned.
"Don't tell me you're going to work for your father again."
Draco stood, pacing. "Okay, I won't tell you, then."
Narcissa's frown deepened.
"Draco, tell me you didn't! Why? After everything Lucius's put you through, why would you go back to him?"
"I don't work for him; I work for myself. He's minister now, I'm the one running the show over there, and the company needs me. This is my legacy, Mum. I'm not going to throw it away because of him."
"Draco, he's dangerous."
Draco rolled his eyes.
"No one knows that better than me, I assure you. But it's been a year since—and I need to get back to my real life. I need to start moving on. That includes resuming my role as CEO at Enterprises."
Narcissa swept over to him, touching a hand to his cheek.
"I worry about you, is all. Ever since—I worry about you all the time, and I don't want to see you—struggle again."
He gently pulled her hand away.
"I'm done struggling, I swear."
She gave him a hard look.
"Honestly, I'm fine."
"But are you happy?" Narcissa pressed.
Draco sighed.
"I—I'm fine."
"When are you going to venture beyond 'fine'? Dahlia Greengrass told me that Daphne broke up with that Graham Montague again. You should take her out for dinner."
Draco gave a defeated laugh.
"I'm not taking Daphne on a date."
"Why not? She's a beautiful girl."
"Because!" Draco said, still laughing.
"Because why?" Narcissa pressed.
"Mum, stop prying."
"I'm your mother; it's my job to pry. Give me one good reason not to pry and maybe I will stop."
"I'm just—I'm not—"
"Not—?"
"Ready. I'm not ready to start seeing someone yet. I know Leolin's been gone a year but I—I'm not ready to replace her."
"Do you still love her?" Narcissa asked.
Draco sighed, running two hands through his hair before sinking onto the couch and rubbing his tired eyes.
"Of course I do," he groaned. "Part of me will always love her."
"Then go after her!" Narcissa demanded.
Draco looked up, somewhat surprised.
"What?"
"Draco, if you still love her then go after her. I know she and I were never the closest of friends, but I do know that she loved you, too. That kind of thing is worth fighting for."
"I wouldn't even know where to look. No one knows where she is."
"Not even her family? Her mother?"
Draco shook his head.
"It's like she's vanished."
"If anyone could find her, it's you."
"Maybe I don't want to find her," Draco said sullenly.
"Then let her go and be happy," Narcissa replied.
"You say that like it's easy," Draco said. "It's been a year, and I still can't stop thinking about her. She's still everywhere I go. I swear to Merlin, I must see her face fifty times a day. It's fucking madness."
Narcissa carefully swept over, easing down to sit next to her son before touching his knee gently. As she did, the sickle-sized diamond on her finger winked up at him.
"That's why you need to start trying to move on. It won't feel right at first, but you have to keep trying until it does."
Draco glanced sidelong at her.
"What if it never does?"
She patted his knee reassuringly again before standing to affix her veil.
"It will. I promise."
"How do you know that?"
"Draco, I know it's not in your nature to trust me and, unfortunately, I can't exactly blame you, but trust me on this: some day you will wake up and it won't hurt anymore because you won't love her anymore."
"I hope you're right."
"I am. Believe me, someday sooner than you think we'll be going to your wedding."
"Why don't we just focus on yours today?" he said, extending his arm to her.
She smiled, taking his arm.
"I'm happy you're here with me."
He smiled back at her, brushing a soft kiss on her cheek.
"So am I."
Leolin was throwing clothes into her open suitcase, trying not to listen to the fight ensuing in the next room.
"Genevieve, that's enough. I have to go! I can't debate this you anymore. I should be gone already."
"I know you have to go," Gen sobbed. "Just please, take me with you! I'm your fiancée; I want to be there for you."
"I know, darling," Draco said more gently. "And I appreciate it. But this situation is stressful enough on its own; I don't want to make it worse."
"Are you saying I'll make it worse?" Gen sobbed miserably. "Is that really what you think of me?"
"G, of course not."
"Then let me come with you!"
"Sweetheart, please. Things between you and my mum are—complicated, and right now we don't have time for complicated."
"That's not—"
"No—," he said tiredly. "Please don't deny it. You being there will only make it worse. She's been through enough tonight. I don't need you two torturing each other. I will be gone two days. Three, tops. Just stay here and relax. I'll be back before you know it."
The door adjoining Draco and Gen's room to Leolin's burst open, and Draco strode in, Gen on his heels. She looked uncharacteristically unkempt, and her cheeks were stained with tears. Despite everything, Leolin felt bad. Gen looked agonized.
"Please, Draco, please," Gen begged. "You're breaking my heart. Let me come with you."
Draco gave her a pained look but ignored her pleading, choosing to look at Leolin instead.
"Are you ready?"
"Almost," Leolin said meekly, ignoring Gen as well.
"Hurry up."
"How can you take her and not me?" Gen whispered, distressed.
"I'm sorry," Draco bit out. "But whoever kidnapped my stepdad also ransacked his art collection. Leolin's an expert; I want her to analyze what's missing and see what the thieves were after."
"You could hire someone to do that," Gen pointed out. "Please, Draco, please: at least don't take her with you! I'm begging you."
Draco ran two hands through his pomaded hair, ruining its carefully crafted style.
"I don't want to," he snapped. "Believe me!"
This stung, and Leolin bit her lip and looked away. She knew they were traveling together under somewhat dire circumstances, but part of her hoped that he was bringing her because she was the one he wanted by his side in times of distress.
"Then why are you?" Gen demanded.
"Genevieve, please," Draco grit out in pain and agitation. "Stop asking questions I've already answered. I don't want this to get outside the family, and Lefevre is damn good at what she does. I probably couldn't hire anyone better on this short of notice."
"Drake," Gen sobbed. "Am I really supposed to believe that this is just about stolen art? That this isn't just some excuse to be alone with her?"
"Yes!"
"How can you possibly expect me to believe that?" she cried, looking Leolin up and down hatefully. Leolin was still in her ridiculously revealing dress from earlier.
"Because I'm telling you to," he retorted. "And because it's the truth."
"This is exactly what she wants!" Gen said as if Leolin wasn't there. "Can't you see that?"
"What are you suggesting?" Draco said. "That Leolin orchestrated a kidnapping in the hopes that I would take her to London with me for the weekend? C'mon, Gen, listen to yourself!"
"Look me in the eye right now and tell me it's not because you want to sleep with her!"
"Damnit, woman, knock it off!" Draco cried in agitation.
"That wasn't a no!" Gen pointed out fiercely, stamping her foot.
Draco finally looked back at her, grabbing her by the wrists and hauling her up before slamming her against the wall and kissing her fiercely.
Leolin couldn't fight the small but sharp intake of breath that escaped her lips, before she quickly looked away again, stuffing the last of her things in her travel bag.
Gen struggled against Draco's touch before melting into it, moaning as his lips dragged from her mouth to her jaw. She knotted a hand desperately in his hair as he pushed her backwards into their own bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
Leolin flushed, a nasty pit forming in her stomach as she heard them tearing each other's clothes off. Hurriedly, she changed into a comfortable sweater and black skinny trousers and grabbed her bag before heading down to the kitchen the wait. Blaise and Ginny were already there, sitting on the counter and drinking whiskey.
"Where's Draco?" Blaise asked as Leolin approached, setting down her bag and pouring herself a finger's worth as well.
"Upstairs still. He and Gen are—"
Ginny wrinkled her nose.
"Gross."
Leolin shrugged, trying to smile.
"I—it doesn't bother me."
"Are you ready to face Narcissa?" Ginny asked.
"After Gen," Leolin admitted. "She will be a welcome change. At least she and I speak the same language, even if it is just cold British bitch."
Blaise raised his eyebrows.
"Fair enough, I suppose," Ginny replied.
Blaise pursed his lips. Perhaps Ginny hadn't told him what Gen had done yet or perhaps he was more forgiving, but he didn't seem to approve of them bashing Gen.
"Listen," Leolin said, looking up to the second story. "There is something I need to tell you before I go."
"What's up?" Ginny said.
"I can't get into specifics right now," Leolin said. "But you should know that Adrian Pucey and Marcus Flint are behind this."
"What?" Ginny demanded. "What the hell makes you say that?"
"Okay," Leolin sighed. "I know that this going to sound crazy, but I think Lucius is looking for a necromancer."
"That does sound crazy," Blaise affirmed.
"Does the name Torrii mean anything to you? Victoria?"
At the name, both Ginny and Blaise's eyes both snapped up, their expressions startled.
"She's down here, too?" Blaise asked keenly, trading a look with Ginny.
"Who is she?" Leolin demanded.
She'd thought about what Adrian had told Torrii about her and she felt dizzy again. Ginny and Blaise's expression were only making the anxiety she'd begun to harbour worse.
"Her name is Victoria Thivierge," Ginny explained. "She was Tommy Pucey's friend in school. She—she's a nasty piece of work."
"What makes you say that?" Leolin said, feeling almost fretful now.
Ginny and Blaise exchanged another glance.
"About eighteen months ago, Victoria's father was murdered. The Aurors' Office never opened a formal investigation, but your stepdad James said she'd done it. There was nothing he could do by then because he wasn't an auror anymore, but he told Draco there was no doubt in his mind it was her. I mean—it was bad, brutal. It wasn't just an Avada Kadavra. Whoever killed him tortured him first," Blaise said quietly.
Leolin put a hand to her mouth.
"She killed her own dad?" Leolin asked in a half-whisper.
"James said he was a drinker with a nasty temper, so she maybe she was looking to settle some scores. Or maybe she just did it for fun or because Adrian told her to. Honestly, I don't think I want to know."
"She's beastly," Ginny said. "If she's down here too, things are about to get one hundred times worse."
"She's down her hunting bokors for Adrian," Leolin explained. "Do you know anything about a man called Guillarme Audige?"
Blaise shook his head.
"Drake might, though. He's down her much more often than I am."
"Adrian's sent Victoria after him. They think he's the key to Bones."
"Well it might not matter, if Bones ends up really being a myth," Ginny pointed out.
"Are you willing to let Adrian bleed this bloke dry to find out? We need to do something."
"What, though?" Blaise said."If we go in unprepared Adrian's going to rip us to pieces."
Leolin thought of his threat again and swallowed the swelling lump in her throat.
"I don't know," Leolin said softly. "But what choice do we have?"
"You're right," Ginny said, heaving a sigh. "We will ask around about Audige and find out what Adrian's up to. When you and Drake get back, we'll be really to strike. Hard."
Leolin nodded, trying to keep her nerves from fraying too much.
"You alright, Lai?" Blaise said. "You are white as a sheet."
"It's Adrian," she admitted. "I think he—"
She was saved from her own swelling anxiety by Draco, who was striding down the stairs, smoothing his hair off his forehead and back into his usual style.
Leolin blushed when she took in his new clothes. He'd shed his quidditch kit for a crisp white button down and cashmere v-neck sweater with fitted khaki slacks that hugged his lean legs. slacks. His coat was slung over his arm, and he'd taken off his magical lenses and put on his glasses instead. His cheeks were still a little flushed from his romp with Gen. Before she could stop, Leolin imagined herself lying naked under Draco as he—
"Are you ready?" Draco said, interrupting her reverie.
She nodded mutely, her blush deepening.
"Let's get going, then," he said, clearly agitated.
Draco turned to Blaise.
"Take care of Gen while I'm gone," he said sternly, and Blaise nodded, shaking his friend's hand.
"Of course, mate. Floo us when you know something."
Draco nodded now.
"I will. Be good, Gin," he said, brushing a kiss on her cheek.
"I always am," she said, meeting Leolin's eye over Draco's shoulder meaningfully.
Leolin gave her a look that said: I will explain everything when I get back. Ginny merely nodded her understanding in response.
"Tell your mum that we're here if she needs anything," Ginny said.
"I will. Alright, we're off, then." he looked at Leolin again, eyes slipping from her dark hair to her blue eyes, down the delicate column of her throat and finally settling on the lock at her neck, which she was fingering nervously. "C'mon, Lefevre, let's go."
He turned brusquely towards the fireplace, but he didn't make it more than a step before—
"Wait!"
Gen appeared at the top of the stairs in nothing more than jumper that clearly belonged to Draco and cotton knickers. It was hard to tell by the modest dresses she usually wore, but she had beautifully lean legs and a shapely arse. Her eyes red-rimmed from crying. Draco set his bag down at the sight of her, and Leolin, sensing something painful, turned her head away.
Gen tore down the stairs into Draco's outstretched arms and began sobbing quietly again.
"I'm sorry I have to do this," he said quietly. "And I'm sorry I can't take you with me."
"I just hate that I can't be by your side tonight," Gen said in genuine anguish. "I don't want you to think I don't support you."
"I don't think that," he said earnestly.
"I don't hate your mother," she said. "I really don't."
"I know, darling, but tonight is not the time to mend fences."
"Just tell her I'm so sorry about Sebasten."
Draco smoothed her soft hair from her face, holding her cheeks.
"I will, I promise."
Gen bit her lip, fighting now not to cry again. Leolin's throat ached. She just wanted to leave.
"I love you," Gen said fiercely, and Draco bent to kiss her, his touch soft.
He dropped his forehead to hers.
"I—you, too. See you soon, angel."
She nodded as he kissed her passionately a last time.
"Take care of him, Leolin," Gen said diplomatically, though her eyes were flashing. "I mean it."
"I will," Leolin said.
Draco surveyed her for another second before jerking his head to Leolin.
"Let's go."
Despite the late hour, the antique Magic train station in Charleston was bustling when they arrived twenty minutes later.
Draco started walking the minute he saw Leolin appear in the floo grate after him, and she had to jog to catch up.
"Drake, wait!" she cried, finally reaching him and grabbing his wrist. "Are you alright?"
He looked down at her hand.
"Let go."
"I just want to make sure you're alright."
"I'm fine."
She gave him a earnest look, and she could see something complex sparkling in his eyes. He was at war with himself, she could tell, and she wasn't sure if had to do with the kidnapping or her and Gen.
"You don't have to lie to me, you know," she said, sensing his need for the comfort only she could give him. "I wouldn't be fine, either."
His eyes arced gracefully across the planes of her face, almost as if he was trying to re-memorize her beauty. Finally he eased his wrist from her grasp.
"I'm fine," he repeated gently. "Really."
She nodded, heart fluttering again. She'd forgotten how warm his voice could be.
"Okay, let's go then."
He simply turned away from her in response, heading towards the ticket counter and away from what had just transpired between them.
The perky young girl working the counter looked up at his approach, and she smiled as she surveyed him.
"Good evening, sir," she said, the gleam in her eye dulling as she watched Leolin approach to stand next to him. "What can I do for you?"
"I need two first class tickets for the next train to London."
"Alright. Just you and your—wife, sir?"
"She's not my wife," Draco said at once. "But yes, it's just the two of us."
"Excellent," the girl replied, her smile widening again. "If I could just please see both of y'all's passports—"
Leolin handed hers to Draco, who eyed the Italian shield on the front disdainfully before passing it along to the attendant.
"You gave up your British citizenship?" He asked quietly. "Why?"
She looked down. The quiet but distinct hurt in her voice made her throat ache.
"I had to."
It seemed like he wanted to say more, but the girl interrupted by handing the documents back.
"Here you are Mr. Malfoy, Miss Lefevre. And that's going to be 357 galleons and fifteen sickles. How would you like to pay for that?"
He pulled a galleon note from his pocket and signed it, whereupon the note began to glitter. He handed it to her and she smiled.
"Perfect. You're all set, Mr. Malfoy," she said, handing Draco two faded tickets. Your train will be leaving from platform 8 in about ten minutes. Just give your tickets to the conductor.
"Thank you," Draco said impatiently, clearly agitated by her chipper disposition.
"Have a nice journey," the girl said brightly in reply, undaunted by his increasing sullenness. "We hope to see y'all in Charleston again soon."
Draco rolled his eyes and jerked his head to Leolin, indicating they head for their platform.
"Quick question before we go," Leolin said as she handled her bag to Draco so he could carry it onto the train for her.
"Shoot," he replied, ascending the steps and leading the way to a small but luxurious car.
"Is your mum going to hex my face off the minute she sees me?"
Draco looked over his shoulder and gave her a dry smile.
"I shouldn't think so, no."
He slid the door open, placed the bags on the overhead racks and settling down before stretching out his long legs.
"Shouldn't think so?" she repeated, slipping off her shoes and tucking her legs up and sitting cross-legged.
He looked at her, seemingly unable to keep his eyes from skating up from her full breasts to the lock around her throat before looking away. She touched the pendant self-consciously.
"She was glad when you came back," he admitted, seemingly fighting not to look at her now.
He was very good at feigning disinterest, but he wasn't so good that he could fool her.
"What?" Leolin said, nearly laughing as she remembered the distain Narcissa had always showered on her. "She was glad?"
"She'd never admit it," Draco said quietly. "But I think my mum was sort of fond of you."
"Good to know," Leolin said, feeling almost in a daze, as she continued fingering the lock.
They were silent as the train lurching gently off. She looked out as the Charleston station faded away. Finally, Draco spoke.
"That pendant," he said, gesturing to it with his eyes. "Did Severina Borgia give you that?"
Leolin look up to finding him studying her intently.
"Yes," she said simply.
"How in Merlin's black cauldron did the two of you become such good friends?" he asked, scrunity growing.
She bit her lip.
"She was there for me in a time of serious need," she admitted, stilling holding the lock. "She didn't have to help me, but she did and we've been like family ever since."
"It must have been one hell of a sob story," Draco said dryly. "When she met you I'm pretty sure she hated you more than anyone else on Earth."
"I don't know why," Leolin admitted somewhat defensively. "She got what she wanted. She got to have you."
Draco gave a soft laugh.
"I don't think she honestly cared about that at the time. It wasn't so much that she liked me as that she expected all men to simply worship at her altar, and for good reason, I suppose. Men were trophies to her, and it infuriated her that she'd collected me but I was still in love with someone else."
Leolin fought not to bite her lip. Draco hadn't been this candid with her in a long time, and despite the somewhat painful subject matter, it felt good not to snipe at one another.
"What did she do when she found of about the Gala?"
Draco laughed again, readjusting his frames and looking almost sheepish.
"I can honestly say that I don't often find myself afraid of women, but she was scaring the shit out of me. She's like a tempest when she gets riled up."
"Yeah," Leolin said, smiling. "She is. You're honestly lucky she didn't put cantarella in her drink. Poison is a pretty grisly way to go. Xavier's favourite pastime is threatening to use it on anyone who looks at him crossways."
"What's he like? Her husband?"
Leolin smiled fondly.
"She met her match in him. He can be as scary as she can and scarier, honestly, though he's never like that with her. He worships at her altar too, of course, but you can see how much she respects him, and they really love each other."
It admittedly hurt a little to think about Severina and Xavier. Like Leolin and Draco, they shared an epic, earth-shaking love, and as much as she cared from them, it was stung a little to watch. However, before Leolin could truly explore the pain, Draco drew her from her reverie.
"I still can't believe she married a cousin," he mused.
"Severina says that only a Borgia can love a Borgia," Leolin said, smiling.
"Indeed," he said.
They lapsed into silence, and Leolin could tell by the drawn expression on Draco face that he was thinking about what was waiting for them in London.
"I'm sorry," she said softly.
He looked up.
"For what?"
"About your stepfather," she said. "This can't be easy."
"It's not," he admitted, eyes falling into his lap again as he sighed. "He loves my Mum; he makes her happy. If something happens to him—"
"It won't," she said in reassurance, despite the fact that wasn't her promise to make.
"Thank you," he finally managed to say about a minute of silence. "For agreeing to come with me. I—we really need you."
She nodded, licking her lips and looking down.
"London will be a nice reprieve anyway."
"Reprieve from what?" he said tersely. "We're on holiday."
"Not one of the more relaxing holidays I've had," she admitted softly.
"What is that supposed to mean?" he sneered, getting annoyed now.
Leolin shook her head. She shouldn't have said that. Now a fight was practically inevitable.
"Go on Lefevre," he goaded unkindly. "Don't be shy."
"Do you think this is easy for me?" she said finally, her frustration at losing Draco bubbling up."I told you I was happy for you and I—I am, but it hasn't exactly been a pleasant trip."
"And whose fault is that?" Draco said somewhat coldly.
She thought of the look in Gen's eye as she twirled around in Leolin's wedding dress, and her resolved hardened.
"I didn't ask to come with you! Considering that, I would appreciate it if you would stop letting Gen trying to manipulate me into being bloody miserable. I am doing well enough in that department on my own."
"Please," he said hotly. "You are honestly going to sit here and accuse Gen of being manipulative?"
"What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded hotly.
"That little dress today? The way you were slavering over Kelly Troy just to hack me off? Honestly, Lefevre, you are so transparent."
"I have always dressed like that, as you well know. I am not going to stop now just because Gen's applying for Muggle sainthood. And as for Kelly," she grit her teeth. "How I've felt about him has never had anything to do with you!"
His eyes flashed. She knew she shouldn't have taken that blow because it was low and unkind, but she was so agitated she couldn't bite it back. Once an escalator, always an escalator, it seemed.
"Did you love him?" Draco demanded.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me," he said nastily. "Troy. Did you love him?"
"What does that matter?" she burst. "That was ten years ago and he's married and you will be, too."
The thought, the idea, the possibility that Draco could actually marry Gen was causing a terrible burning in her throat.
"It matters to me," he said in a quiet but cold voice. "And for the record I know you did. I can't begin to describe to you how much that makes me hate you."
"Why?" Leolin demanded. "You got your cruel little shot at Kelly in at the Gala, and in the end it was always going to be you. I told you that the night I went for drinks with Kelly before the wedding. He was never going to be enough so long as you walked the Earth. Happy?"
"No," he said more loudly. "I'm not. Don't you dare pretend that fear wasn't justified on my part," he snapped. "And for the record, you're a vile liar. If you loved me as much as you said, you wouldn't have run out on me the day of our wedding."
She bit her lip and blinked furiously to dispel the tears welling in her eyes.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "For everything I put you through. I," she cleared her throat to keep the emotion out of her voice. "It was never my intention to hurt you and I—I did and I'm sorry. I don't know you'll ever really understand how much."
Draco's eyes were storming with an emotion she was sure had no name.
"I know you're sorry," he said. "And it doesn't matter now, anyway. I'm...happy."
She had to look into her lap before looking back at him, because she knew if she didn't she'd burst into felt like she was working against her own goals at the moment, but she knew that for now comforting him had to be enough. There was be time enough for reconciliation when she told him the truth.
"Good," she said at last, and they lapsed into pain-riddled silence.
"Lefevre, we're here. Get up."
Draco was crouched down next to Leolin, gently shaking her shoulder.
She woke with a start, sitting up and looking around.
"How long was I out?"
She hadn't meant to fall asleep.
"About two hours," Draco said, straightening to his full height as he watched her run her long nails through her hair.
"Sorry," she murmured quietly, unsure what she was even sorry about. She needed to stop doing that. Her constant apologizing just made her seem guilty for things she hadn't even done wrong.
"Don't be," Draco said, purposefully looking away from her as she readjusted her clothes and stepped back into her heeled boots. She was suddenly wishing she'd worn something less casual. Narcissa was sure to disapprove of her slouchy sweater and the soft grey t-shirt underneath. Trying to do last-minute maintenance, she tucked part of the t-shirt's hem into her black trousers. The action momentarily revealed several inches of her taught stomach, and when she looked up Draco's eyes were glittering. It was as if some part of him wanted to swallow her whole.
"Are you ready," he said tersely. "Or would you like me to stand here as you continue to primp needlessly?"
She flushed as she shouldered her purse. He was already carrying her bag for her, and she tried not to read into the genteel gesture.
"I'm sorry," she said again before kicking herself. "Let's go."
They took a portkey from the train station, and as the spinning of the portkey slowed, Leolin was so nervous she felt light-headed. One thing her tangles with Lucius had taught her was never go to battle unprepared, and she felt wholly unprepared to face Narcissa. She felt similarly unprepared to face whatever horrors awaited them at the flat.
Leolin stumbled a bit as they landed, and instinctually Draco reached out a hand to steady her.
"You alright?" he asked softly.
"Fine," she replied, and he retracted his hand at once, as if thinking better of it.
"Stop dawdling then," he snapped, seemed to remember himself.
He started off down a wide, stately boulevard, and finally, they reached a large town home at the end of the block. Draco took a deep breath and stepped forward, banging the siren-shaped knocker three times on the gleaming forest green door. It swung open almost immediately to reveal a young man in his thirties. Leolin could tell from his olivey complexion and dark, thick eyelashes that he was Greek, and she guessed he was on of Sebasten's sons.
"Draco," the man said, visibly relaxing at once. "Good, you're here."
Draco stepped forward to embrace him, and the man's eyes fell on Leolin, though he said nothing to her.
"I'm sorry about your dad," Draco said. "But I brought someone who can help. Myles, this is my ex-fianceé Leolin. Leolin, this is my stepbrother Myles."
"Hello," Myles said, kissing both of Leolin's cheeks. "Good to meet you."
"Leolin's an art dealer," Draco explained."She can help with sorting out what the thieves were looking for."
Myles visibly relaxed.
"Thank Merlin," Myles said. "Aleco and I were just talking about that. He was worried about having to pull in someone random. Please, come in. Drake, your mum's upstairs in the study. She's waiting for you. Can I get either of you something to drink?"
Draco was already ushering Leolin inside.
"Vodka on the rocks, if you have it," Draco was saying to Myles. "Thank you."
"Anything for you?" Myles asked Leolin as she eased out of her coat.
"She'll have a gin and tonic," Draco replied, already starting up the stairs.
Myles looked at Leolin to confirm that was what she wanted, and she blushed.
"Thank you," she affirmed, following Draco up the stairs.
The flat was an elaborate maze of winding staircases and open-plan spaces, but Draco navigated them with ease. They could hear voices floating down from some upper space, and Draco started up a final staircase, the door at the top of which was open. Narcissa, who was the standing inside the circular room beyond the door, looked up as Draco appeared, striding towards him.
"Oh Draco," she said, her voice quivering.
"Hi Mum," he said softly, folding her into his arms as she began to cry softly against his shoulder. "How are you?"
She pulled back a little.
"About how you'd imagine, I suppose. Is Gen here with you?"
"No," Draco said evenly. "I figured you'd been through enough tonight."
"Thank you," she murmured, wiping her eyes and trying to compose herself.
By this time, Leolin had emerged, and Narcissa stared at her in disbelief.
"Leolin," she said in awe. "What are you doing here?"
"I thought she could help with the missing art," Draco replied. "It might help us figure out why Sebasten was taken in the first place."
Narcissa slipped from Draco's side before slowly approaching Leolin. Leolin was vaguely afraid Narcissa would push her down the stairs, and she wondered if Draco would try to save her if she did. However, after several seconds she extended her arms, and hesitantly Leolin's went into her embrace.
"Thank you for coming," Narcissa said quietly. "It means a lot to me."
Leolin nodded. She could see that this new husband had come a long way towards thawing Narcissa' icy heart. She seemed less guarded then Leolin remembered, though right now she seemed no less sad.
"Of course," Leolin replied in a gentle tone. "I only hope I can be helpful."
By now two more figures had appeared, both male, whom Leolin assumed were two more of Sebasten's sons. The older, who looked to be in his early forties, spoke first, his obsidian eyes mistrustful as they regarded Leolin.
"Who's this, Drake?"
"She's my ex-fianceé," Draco replied. "And she's an art expert. She can help us."
"Can we trust her?" the younger one, who couldn't be older than twenty, asked.
It was clear that while Myles and the older brother had the same mother, this younger boy didn't.
"Of course," Draco said, sounding a little defensive. "Would I have brought her here if she wasn't trustworthy?"
Satisfied now that Draco had vouched for her, the older brother stepped forward.
"Aleco," he said in greeting, extending his hand.
"Leolin," she replied, shaking it.
"This is my brother Dimitri," he said, gesturing to the other boy. "Thank you for coming."
"Of course," Leolin said, trying to react as she took in the ransacked study behind."I only hope I can be helpful."
Aleco nodded.
"Tell me what happened," Draco said as Myles re-appeared, handing both Leolin and Draco a drink.
Draco took a large sip of his and set it down. Leolin took a regular-sized one of hers and did the same.
"They hit the villa first," Aleco explained, but no one was there.
"They hit the villa as well?" Draco demanded.
"Yes," Narcissa said. "I had it sealed off for the time being. We can go there tomorrow."
Draco nodded tersely.
"Did they take anything?"
"Some vaseware, it sounds like," Myles explained. "It's hard to say; my dad has so many antiquities."
"They headed here next," Aleco continued. "And my dad was home."
"Did they attack him in here?" Draco asked.
Myles shook his head.
"He'd just come in the door. They struggled in the kitchen, it seems like."
"So, what?" Draco said. "Are we looking at a burglary gone wrong?"
"I think they might have been here waiting for him," Aleco said.
Draco's eyes snapped up.
"What makes you say that?"
Aleco shrugged.
"It's not like he came in here and caught them in the act. They were on him within two seconds of stepping foot in the door."
"They could have had a look-out," Draco pointed out.
"And there's the fact that they hit here and the villa, but not the apartment in Athens. It's like they were looking for him."
"Maybe they were headed to the Athens flat next."
"Why would they hit and the villa then leave Greece if they planned on coming back?"
"To catch us off guard?"
"Yeah, or they were hoping to draw my dad out."
"You think the robbery was a front?" Draco asked. "Just a way to accomplish the kidnapping?"
"I think we need to consider that possibility."
"Have you gotten any ransom demands?" Draco asked Narcissa, who shook her head.
"But that doesn't mean that he wasn't a target from the beginning," she pointed out. "It could be that his kidnapper doesn't need money."
Draco understood her meaning.
"You think it was Lucius."
"Who else?" she said bitterly.
"What reason would he have?" Draco said. "Besides the obvious one of making you suffer?"
Narcissa shook her head.
"I don't know," she admitted. "But I have a sick feeling he was involved."
Leolin, who had been silently taking in the room, came to a bare spot of the wall where a painting had once hung.
"What was this?" she asked. "What hung here?"
The boys all shrugged.
"We never really came in here," Myles said. "Narcissa?"
She shook her head, distressed.
"I don't know," she said. "There was a man on a raft, I think. I can't remember. Honestly, Sebasten had thousands of pieces in his collection. It was impossible to keep up."
"Was the piece Muggle or Magical?"
"Magical. But I don't ever remember the figure saying a word, now that you mention it. It was very unsettling."
"Why do you ask?" Draco said.
"This piece is important," Leolin surmised. "We passed about a dozen priceless paintings on the way up here, and none of them were taken. Also, this work was enormous and likely unwieldy. That makes it a bad item to burglarize."
"Maybe they shrunk it," Dimitri pointed out.
Leolin shook her head.
"You can't shrink a painting without compromising it. Normally thieves cut out the painting roll it up and leave the frame, but whoever stole this didn't. That means they took the trouble to take it with them even though they knew it would slow them down."
"So it's important," Draco said.
She nodded.
"It could be a guardian."
"What do you mean 'a guardian'?" Aleco demanded. "A guardian of what?"
"You can endow a painting with a secret or a hidden object you don't want found. The painting then guards that secret, revealing it to no one but those who know how to break the guardian's silence."
"That could explain why Sebasten was taken," Draco said, stunned.
"It's just a theory," Leolin pointed out. "I will need to go through the manifests of his work to be sure."
"They're in the flat in Athens," Aleco said. "We can get them tomorrow before we go to the villa."
Leolin nodded, examining the shattered cases lining the wall. There were hundreds on coins lying scattered underneath.
"Was this case all coins?" Leolin asked. "It doesn't look like they took many, if any."
"No," Narcissa said. "There were some red and black figures vases as well."
"Greek?" Leolin asked.
Narcissa nodded.
"Is most of his collection Ancient Greek?" Leolin asked.
Narcissa sighed.
"I suppose so. He had things from Rome and The Italian Renaissance as well, but most of them were still related to Greek stories."
"Okay," Leolin said, her mind already racing. "That's good to know. I know this isn't exactly what you want to hear, but if they did take him to get information about the painting, he's safe for now."
Narcissa bowed her head.
"I'm sorry," Leolin said gently. "I know this isn't easy."
"No," Narcissa said. "It isn't. But thank you for being here. You don't know what this means to me."
"Always," Leolin said, picking her way back to her drink and taking a sip.
"We're going to go to my flat and get some sleep," Draco said. "Do you want to come stay with me, Mum?"
She shook her head.
"I'm going back to Greece tonight. I'll stay with Aleco."
"In that case, we'll see you in Athens in the morning. We'll floo when we get there."
Narcissa came to kiss Draco goodbye, and he rested his head lovingly on the top of hers.
"We'll be up for a while," Draco told her softly. "Floo me if you need anything or if you hear something from Sebasten."
Narcissa nodded, clearly soothed by him steady calm.
"Thank you," she murmured.
"It's going to be okay," he said, his tone resolute. "I swear."
She nodded again, meeting eyes with Leolin.
"Thank you," Narcissa repeated, this time to her.
"Of course," Leolin said softly. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Gentleman," Draco said as he released his mother at last. "Let me know if you need us."
"We will," Myles said, said shaking Draco's hand. "Good to meet you, Leolin. I wish it had been under happier circumstances."
"So do I," Leolin said.
"Come on, Lai," Draco said quietly, running a hand through his hair as he sighed. "Let's get home."
Leolin tried and failed not to flush, though Draco thankfully didn't notice. Draco was tired and stressed, and it was forcing him back into old familiarities. He'd let his guard down in the wake of this new disaster, and Leolin could feel an erstwhile trust flowing between them again. It was like a balm for her tattered soul. He mind was positively alight with questions and concerns about the robbery, the kidnapping, Lucius, but still, she couldn't deny the effect being here with Draco was having on her.
Draco threw a handful of powder into the floo, swearing when he fire only hissed in response.
"Damnit," he seethed. "The grate's closed."
They glanced up the near five stories they'd just traversed to get down to the main floor and he groaned.
"Come here," he said, hooking a hand around her waist and pulling her flush against him.
"What are you doing?" she shrieked, not expecting his touch.
He still wore the cologne he had when they were in school, and it washed over here, inundating her with memories. She could remember the way his silky lips felt against hers the first time they'd kissed in the Slytherin common room.
"Relax, Princess," he said, seemingly a little amused despite everything. "We're going to side-along."
"I know where your flat is," she defended.
It wasn't that she didn't want his hands on her, but side-along apparation made her extremely queasy.
"This is so much easier," Draco said sensibly. "Damnit, Lefevre. Stop fidgeting."
She did as she was told, and he readjusted his grip, his palm pressed to the curve of her low back. He was holding her tighter then he needed to, but it felt amazing to be in his arms again and she didn't complain.
"I hope you're not tired," he said, "I have a feeling you and I have a lot to discuss."
She nodded, and a second later they were spinning away. Leolin had always hated side-alongs, and she gripped his sweater and buried her face in his chest to fend off the nasty sensation. If apparating was like squeezing through metal tube that was just a little too small for your body, side-along was like fitting through the same small tube with a friend. It was agonizing.
Finally they landed.
"Let go," he prompted gently. "We're here."
"Oh," she said, embarrassed. "Sorry. I—uh—are you hungry? I could make us dinner."
"You cook now?" he asked, laughing a little.
"I lived in Italy for five years," she said sheepishly. "Of course I cook."
"Did Severina teach you?" he said pointedly.
She looked away.
"Ri can't cook," Leolin said simply.
"Why am I not surprised?" Draco said.
"Because she's too beautiful for something so pedestrian."
"Sad but true, I suppose," Draco conceded.
"Last chance," Leolin said. "Do you want dinner or not?"
Draco nodded.
"Thank you. I'm going to go jump in the shower. There is a wine cellar downstairs."
She nodded.
"Sounds good," she said. "Have fun—showering."
Draco gave her an odd look.
"I will?" he said. "Don't burn the flat down."
She gave him a wry look.
"Prepare yourself. I'm about to blow your mind."
"Doubtful," he said flippantly, heading up the stairs. "Gen's Merlin's gift to cooking."
Leolin clenched her jaw and padded to the luxurious kitchen and opening the refrigerator.
The contents, though somewhat sparse, were annoying pretentious. Vaguely, Leolin wondered why there was even food in there in the first place, seeing as they were planning on being gone for nearly a month, but she supposed this might be one of new magical-enhanced refrigerators that could store food to perfection for months using magic.
Draco was right; Gen had excellent taste and she was likely a magnificent cook. Leolin hated admitting that Gen had any admirable qualities. Petulantly, she decided to use as many difficult ingredients as she could find. Draco had essentially dared her to make something gourmet, and she would be damned if she didn't meet the challenge. She pulled out scallops and two ears of corn.
She needed a bottle of wine for the sauce, and she headed to the cellar, looking for a suitable white. It was primarily reds, which she didn't need. In fact, there was only one type of white. Leolin picked it up and her heart beat a little faster. It was an albariño, a dry Spanish white she always drank. It felt significant that it was the only white Draco had, but she forced herself not to read into it.
By the time Draco re-emerged with wet hair in a pair of fitted grey sweatpants and a thin white v-neck, Leolin was just plating the meals.
"Merlin," Draco said descending the stairs. "It smells amazing in here. What is it?"
"scallops in a white wine reduction over a bed of maque choux," Leolin said.
"What is maque choux," he said, eying his dish appreciatively.
"It's a Creole dish with corn, onion and an obscene amount of butter. I figured it was oddly appropriate. Also I just wanted to show off."
"Where did you learn a Creole dish?"
"In Italy," she said, smiling blithely.
He rolled his eyes. "I meant from whom."
She shrugged.
"I rubbed elbows with a lot of interesting people," she replied simply.
He rolled his eyes again.
"When did you get so fucking shady?" he asked his voice halfway between joking and suspicious.
"If you're going to be a pill, you don't have to eat it."
She reached for his plate and he held it out of her reaching, smirking down at her.
"Don't you dare," Draco said wryly.
She gave a triumphant smile.
"Do you want a glass of wine?"
"I'm not much of a white drinker," he admitted.
"Well you can't drink red with these scallops," she said imperiously, and he shrugged.
"Alright, what kind is it?"
"Albariño," she replied.
"Of course," he said, a little more seriously. "That's still your favourite, then?"
"I didn't really have a choice," Leolin said. "It's the only white you had. I was surprised when I saw it, but you're right; it's still my favourite. Why do you still buy it?"
He accepted a glass from her and took a sip.
"Old habits, I guess," he said, diligently feigning disinterest again, though the result was no less transparent in Leolin's mind. "I suppose I forget to tell my sommelier to take it off the buying list after you left."
"And yet you were able to stop buying all the other types of white I drank."
"What are you implying?" Draco asked, eying her critically.
"I'm not implying anything," Leolin said, his defensiveness telling the whole story. "Merely observing."
"Maybe I like it," he said, taking another sip. "It's quite good, for a white."
"I agree," she said, touching her glass to his and taking a sip as well. " "Where do you want to eat?"
She considered.
"The deck," she said. "God knows when I'll be allowed to go back up there after tonight."
He raised his eyebrows.
"Fair enough."
They sat on top of the large patio table and each took wordlessly took a bite.
He frowned.
"Damn!"
"What?" she said, alarmed.
He looked up at her.
"Lefevre, this is fucking delicious."
"You're surprised?" she said.
"Shocked, actually. You once burned a piece of toast so badly I swear the flat was smoky for three days."
She laughed, remembering the incident well.
"What can I say? I am full of surprises these days."
"Indeed," he said. "Speaking of which, we have a lot to talk about."
She considered this as she took a bite.
"Yeah, I suppose we do."
"I'm listening," he prompted, and she sighed, biting her lip.
"I think we need to go to the National Museum in Athens tomorrow and look around before we meet up with your family."
"And why is that?"
She bit her lip.
"Because your mum is right," she began, taking another sip of wine. "Lucius is behind this."
"Why didn't you bloody say anything before!" he burst. "And what does that have to do with the theft at the National Museum?"
"I know, I'm sorry; I didn't want to stress your Mum out anymore," she said ruefully.
"You didn't answer my second question," he pointed out. "What does this have to do with the Museum? The Aurors are already saying it was La Genie du Mal."
"I know."
"And you don't agree."
"I—no, I don't."
"And what makes you so sure?"
It's inconsistent with La Genie's M.O. This job was ostentatious and sloppy."
He was studying her critically and finally she couldnt take and looked away, blushing and biting her bottom lip.
"I knew it," he said in cold triumphant as he read her guilt. "I knew you were mixed up in this mess. You know La Genie du Mal!"
"I—How did you know I was involved?" she demanded softly.
"I could tell by the way you reacted the news about the robbery in Athens this morning," he said. "You weren't disgusted; you were scared. I've had a feeling something was up since I found out with worked for the Borgia."
"I don't work for them!" Leolin defended fiercely. "Severina and I are partners in a… business venture outside the family. I don't deal with the rest of them."
"Business venture?" Draco repeated harshly "Try International Crime syndicate! How do you know La Genie?"
"I—" Leolin began, intent on telling Draco the truth.
However, she could feel the noose around her neck tightening. La genie was under the gag order. If she told Draco it was her, she'd be arrested.
"I'm—La Genie's dealer," she said, and Draco shook his head in disgust.
That wasn't a total lie. She did line up buyers for La Genie. She couldn't but breathe a sigh of relief when she realized she hadn't broken her gag.
"Merlin, Lefevre," he breathed, looking at her as if she was a stranger. "Are you fucking insane? Art theft? You could go to Azkaban if anyone finds out about this."
"I know," she said. "And I feel terrible about it. But—"
"But what? The Leolin I knew never would have stolen art."
"I know, believe me, I—"
"Who are you?" Draco demanded. "What happened to the girl I felt in love with?"
"She's me," Leolin said meekly. "I'm still that girl."
He shook his head, looking away from her.
"No," he said curtly. "You aren't. That girl's dead."
Grief-stricken, Leolin looked down at the ground.
"I never wanted to steal art. You have to believe me."
"Then why did you do it?"
"I was desperate," Leolin whispered, remembering how low she'd gotten, how she'd thought about killing herself. "I was in a terrible situation, and I needed a way to make money."
"What did you get yourself into that you were desperate enough to steal art?" Draco demanded. "I want you to tell me right now."
She looked at him, desperate for him to know the truth at last. She bowed her head instead.
"I can't," she pleaded. "Please, I know this is a lot to ask, but please, just trust me. I swear that someday soon I'll tell you everything."
Draco studied her coldly.
"Please," she said softly. "I know I must seem like such a villain to you, but I swear I had good reasons for doing the things I did."
"Fine," he said. "Go on, then. So you knew that La Genie didn't rob the museum in Athens because you're his dealer. Wait—it is a he, right?"
Leolin bit her lip, not wanting to lie to Draco anymore.
"I don't think I should say," she said carefully. "I'm sorry."
"Fine," he said, rolling his eyes. "But you're sure that he/she didn't rob the museum?"
"Yes. If…they had been planning a job, I would have known it."
"So it wasn't La Genie. What makes you think my father's behind it?"
Leolin bit her lip.
"I heard Adrian Pucey and Marcus Flint talking about it today at the tournament."
"Pucey? He's in Charleston?"
"He was in New Orleans before that," Leolin explained. "Remember when I asked you about Bones, the Necromancer?"
"That had something to do with Adrian Pucey?"
"Your father has Adrian looking for Bones in New Orleans."
"Lefevre, That's mental. You can't expect me to believe that my father, the most powerful man in Wizarding Europe, has been chasing a myth through the city of New Orleans."
"I know it seems crazy, but it's true. Yesterday I stepped out of the bridal shop to talk to my mum, and I saw Adrian disappear into this alley, so I tried to follow him, and that's when this old man told me about Jean du Bones—"
"Old man? What old man? Just because some nutty stranger tells you something doesn't mean it's true! Seriously, will you listen to yourself, Lefevre? Jean du Bones is a myth!"
"That may be so," Leolin said pointedly. "But I know that your father's looking for him none the less. Have you ever heard of a man named Baudry des Lozières?"
"He's a bokor down in the French quarter," Draco said. "He's very well-respected."
"He's dead," Leolin said seriously. "Adrian flayed him for information on Jean du Bones then killed him when his intel wasn't good."
"That's because there is no 'good intel'. You can't find a man who never really existed."
"It's not just Lozières! He's going after a man named Guillarme Audige next."
"They call him the King of the Quarter," Draco said dryly. "My father's arm has grown long indeed if he thinks he can pluck Audige out of New Orleans. Audige really is nasty piece of work.
"Adrian doesn't seem too worried about that. He sent Victoria Thivierge to find Audige. They are going to bleed him dry."
"Thivierge?" Draco repeated. "She's in on this, too?"
"She's working for Adrian." She paused. "And sleeping with him."
Draco made a disgusted face.
"They two of them teaming up makes me sick," he admitted. "And if they're Audige, he could be dead or missing already. Adrian's clever, and Thivierge is an animal."
"If that's true then we to do something about it. What if Audige tells Adrian something about Bones?"
"There's nothing to tell him!" Draco said. "Bones isn't real!"
"Don't you see what this means, though? Leolin demanded. "Your father is looking for a necromancer. Who do you suppose he's trying to raise from the dead?"
"No," Draco said at once. "No way. Voldemort is dead. My father killed him."
"Says who?"
"There were dozens of witnesses."
"And what happened to the body?"
"It was burned."
"By whom?"
Draco frowned.
"What you're suggesting is—"
"—absurd, I know. But what if I'm right? I'm not the only one who thinks it's a possibility. Harry does, too."
"Potter's always been a little Dark Lord crazy," Draco said.
"He was right about the Hallows," Leolin pointed out. "Which were also a children's story."
Draco shook his head, struggling to wrap his brain around what she was telling him.
"What does any of this have to do with art or my stepdad?" Draco demanded.
She frowned in thought.
"I'm not sure yet," she admitted. "But I know they're related. Adrian told Marcus to keep stealing pieces, and that he was going to bring in someone from the outside to help interpret what they've taken thus far. It could be that's why they abducted Sebasten. I also think it might have something to do with the painting they stole from his study."
"The one you think is a guardian?"
"What could it possibly be hiding?" Draco said, shaking his head. "None of this makes any goddamn sense."
"I know," Leolin said.
"It doesn't make any sense," Draco repeated. "And yet—"
"Something doesn't feel right," Leolin affirmed. "I know. I feel it, too. Something's…out of balance."
"Yeah," Draco said. "I've been feeling it for awhile, but I guess I—I didn't want to believe it was real."
"That's understandable," Leolin said, nodding.
"Is this what you wanted to tell me last night?" Draco said. "Is this why you were asking me about Bones?"
Leolin looked down, nodding sheepishly.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She looked back to find his light eyes keen and sharp.
"It was all so circumstantial yesterday and I—I didn't want you to think I was crazy."
"I think you're crazy now," Draco pointed out, and Leolin laughed quietly.
"I know. Maybe I am. But you didn't hear the way Adrian was talking."
She shook her head, standing and pacing to the railing.
"What did he say?" Draco pressed, trailing after her and leaning on the partition.
She didn't say anything.
"Lefevre," Draco said sternly, touching her chin so she was forced to look up at him. "What did Adrian say that has you so nervous?"
She sighed, trying not to get worked up again.
"I—he—this is serious, Draco. Your father's got him working on something big."
She looked down again, trying to forget what Adrian had threatened to do to her were they to succeed.
"Leolin," Draco murmured quietly after a minute, hunting for her gaze. "What is it? You can tell me anything."
"He scares me," she admitted.
"Who? My father?"
She shook her head.
"Lucius has always scared me," she said. "I meant Adrian. He hates me for the way I treated him at school, and I—I think he wants to punish me for it. He's started to really scare me."
Draco face was deadly serious now.
"Why? Has he threatened you?"
She looked at him, desperate for his comfort.
"Would you care if he had?"
"I'll kill him if he ever lays a finger on you."
"Do you mean that?" she breathed, looking up at him through her dark lashes.
"I—" he began, tempted to brush some hair that had fallen in her face.
However, he quickly thought better of it and let his hand drop before looking out and clenching his jaw.
"It's not personal," Draco warned. "I've just always loathed that little creep."
Leolin bit her lip.
"Good to know," she said, pained by his callousness.
"But you're right," he admitted, eyes glittering as he studied her. "He has always hated you. It makes sense that might he try to—settle the score."
"I know," Leolin said, shaking her head. "But still, it's a waste of time to be afraid of him. I should be making him afraid of me. After all, I'm not the same little girl I was, either."
"Decidedly not," Draco said dryly. "The grand larceny bit is certainly new."
"Do you think I'm a terrible person?" she asked finally.
He considered this.
"No."
She sighed.
"That's a relief, I suppose."
"I didn't say I thought you were a good person, either," Draco pointed out.
She took the last sip of her wine, whose alcoholic effects were making her more candid then she ought to have been. She vanished the glass with a flick of her wrist.
"What if I said I did it for you?" she asked quietly, leaning in ever so slightly.
His eyes flicked to her lips for a split second.
"Did what for me?"
"Sold that stolen art."
He was a little closer now.
"I never forgot about you," she said softly. "I know you think I did, but I didn't."
"That's the wine talking," he said, eyes flitting to her mouth again.
"Did you think of me?" she pressed, knowing she was treading in deep waters but not caring.
"You're drunk, Cal," he muttered.
"Maybe a drunk mouth speaks a sober heart."
He considered this without responding, and she looked over at him, trying to decipher what he was thinking. Finally, he reached a hand over to gently touch a lock of hair, and her heart essentially stopped beating.
"Why did you change your hair?" he asked quietly.
She blushed.
"I couldn't keep everything the same. Do you think it's ugly?"
His touch became more deliberate, and he gently stroked the silk strands before tucking them behind her ear. After he did, he couldn't seem to resist running a knuckle down her cheek.
"You could never be ugly," Draco murmured
"Do you mean that?" she asked.
"You know I think you're incredibly beautiful," Draco said softly. "That's not a secret."
His eyes flicked to her lips again, and she leaned it a touch closer.
"Draco—" she began, but just then his floo began to smoke, and he dropped his hand at once, frowning a little.
"It's Gen," he said, looking down at the lighter.
"You don't have to answer it," she pointed out.
"Of course I do," he snapped. "She's my fiancée and I love her. I don't want her to worry."
Leolin nodded, feeling a little wounded.
"Of course," she said, standing at once. "I'm going to go to bed."
Draco still hadn't answered the floo.
"You should get some sleep," he said authoritatively, flicking the lighter open at last. "We have a long day tomorrow."
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