A/N: Right, I will go back and go grammatical shite later. I just wanted to get this guy out there. Surprise, its Christmas…again. Just a heads up, these chapters hae been very clear in my mind for a very long time (I wrote the bit with Blaise in February). However, the next few are sketched out but hazy. I know I've spoiled you these last few days, but I need a week or so for the next one if I want to get it right. Also, LOVE the predictions, please keep them coming. I like to read them as I stroke my evil cat Shalomar and cackle like a villain from knowing all that you lot have yet to learn! A word of caution, you lot seem to think this barren bit is a red herring, and perhaps it is. However, know that this is a VERY serious issue to me and also that if you fight in enough battles (as Leolin has), you are bound to lose something dear…Also,the course of love never did run smooth, and as we all know, Leolin and Draco's love is one of the ages.
On a more positive note, I am so glad you like Felix so much, he will be playing a major role next chapter. Also, you can thank SadSadistic for him, she and I created him together! Anyways, I am greedily expecting a LOT of reviews on this one because it's super long and VERY meaty. Please don't disappoint me! PLEASE REVIEW PEOPLE. IF YOU LIKE THIS AT ALL THEN REVIEW.
Chapter 19: Friends in Low Places
"So," Narcissa began, taking a seat on the balcony that overlooked the sprawling gardens of she and Sebastian's palacial summer home.
"So," Draco repeated, sinking into the chair next to her and taking a swig of his drink.
"So," she said a little more forcefully, eying him seriously as she absently played with one of the large diamonds in her ears.
"So?" Draco demanded, getting a little annoyed. "What are exactly are we doing right now?"
Narcissa took a sip of her drink as well before standing, the chiffon of her champagne—coloured gown swishing around her legs. The empire-waisted dress she wore was typical of her attire when she was in Greece, and it made her look like Helen of Troy of some other great beauty. She looked out onto her breathtaking domain, looking even more like a queen.
"So?" Draco demanded again, more annoyed this time.
Narcissa turned back to face him, eyes glittering.
"When were you going to tell me?"
"Tell you what?" he said, taking a swig.
He knew damn well what, but he wanted to delay this as long as humanely possible.
"I had lunch with Lauren Zabini yesterday," she said casually. "She stopped here on her way back from Puglia."
"How is Greece a logical stopover when traveling back to the UK from Italy?" he said pointedly.
She gave him an annoyed look.
"We've been meaning to catch up, she and I," Narcissa said, eyes steady.
"How's husband number eight treating her?" he asked.
Lauren had divorced Rookwood about a year after Leolin disappeared.
"Better than seven," Narcissa said. "Though I'm sure Blaise has told you as much."
"This bloke is Italian? And did Blaise say something about him being distantly related to the Colonna, or did I make that up?"
"Let's stay on topic, shall we?" Narcissa said.
"Go on then," Draco said, as if he hadn't been stalling, merely being polite.
"She and Blaise are rather close, you know. I daresay he's rather more forthcoming with her than you are with me."
"I don't think that's true," Draco said, and she gave him a reproving glance. "For instance?"
"Blaise apparently in love with Ginevra."
Draco bubbled his lips.
"Please. That's the worst kept secret in the world. Even you knew that, I bet."
She smiled.
"Lauren says she and Blaise even discuss you, from time to time."
Draco shrugged, looking down into his drink to avoid having to look at his mother. She folded her arms across her chest.
"That's oddly touching," Draco said, rising to refill his drink.
"Draco," Narcissa said as if he were being a disobedient child. "Will you act like an adult and stop avoiding the subject?"
"You haven't said what the subject is yet!" Draco defended lamely, taking a huge swallow of vodka and lime.
"How could you keep this from me?"
"You were busy! You have Sebasten and Dimitri to look after, and you're not in London that often any more."
"I was there last week," Narcissa said pointedly.
Draco admittedly had nothing to counter with.
"Lauren said it seemed rather serious between you and this girl. She said it had been going on for almost a year. Is that true?"
"I guess technically—" Draco began, but Narcissa interrupted.
"Is she your girlfriend? Are you calling her that?"
"Yes," Draco admitted. "She's my girlfriend."
"And how long has she been sporting that title?"
Draco clenched his jaw.
"Since last August."
It was currently mid-July.
"Have you talked about marriage or children?" Narcissa demanded.
He considered.
"No," he said at last, and he felt comfortable with the truth of the statement.
Barring the pregnancy scare, they really hadn't.
"Have you thought about it?"
He swallowed.
"Yes."
"And her name?"
"Genevieve," he said.
"Surname?"
"Beauchene."
"Est-elle française?" she asked.
He swallowed.
"No," he admitted. "She's American."
She looked disapproving at this.
"And where did you meet her?"
"Through mutual friends."
"Anyone I'd know?" she asked.
"Not unless you follow international quidditch," he replied.
"Pureblood?" she asked, voice imperious again.
"Yes," he said.
"Family?"
"Wealthy."
"Parents?"
"Divorced."
"Siblings?'"
"None."
"And does she know?" Narcissa said at last.
"Know what?" Draco said, taking another seemingly casual swallow.
His throat had suddenly grown very dry.
"Does she know about Leolin?" Narcissa said purposefully.
He finally found the courage to look his mother in the eye.
"Yes, she does."
At least mildly satisfied now, she sank back into her chair, accepting another drink from Javier.
"Alright," she said curtly, clearly still annoyed at him. "Tell me everything."
Around 9:30, they were all gathered at The Savage Vagabond having a last drink together.
"So Pansy convinced Blackburn?" Ginny was saying. "That's a coup for us."
Blaise nodded, taking a sip of his beer and running a hand down Ginny's leg. She was perched on his lap, and they traded loving glances quite often.
"It is," Blaise said. "Though it sounds like we'll have to keep an eye on him for a while."
Draco nodded.
Just tell Moira appeared, grinning at them.
"Ginny Weasley," Moira laughed as Ginny rose to embrace her. "My word, how you've grown! When I first met you, you were head over heels with in love with Oliver Wood. He and Kelly were always in here mooning over you and Lefevre."
Ginny laughed too, leaning into Blaise and twining a hand around his neck.
"Gods, that feels like another lifetime."
"Doesn't it?" Moira laughed. "Remember when Kelly came to pick Leolin up for their first date?"
Ginny nodded, laughing harder. Draco clenched his jaw, trying not to look visibly annoyed. That was during the period he and Leolin were broken up.
"She came downstairs in that slinky little dress and I think Kelly had a mini-stroke!"
Moira was laughing heartily.
Ginny joined her.
"Oh my gods, what did he say to her?"
Moira slapped her hand on the bar.
"He just looked up at her and said. 'You look—fuck.'"
Ginny and Moira were howling with laughter.
"He was such a clot that night!" Ginny said, wiping tears from her eyes. "Leolin was so annoyed with him. Then Forest Lawrence told her she looked like a sexy Christmas ornament and she almost tackled him."
"So funny!" Moira said, trying to get herself under control. "How did he ever convince her to date her after that?" she said.
"Oh it was really sweet," Ginny said, sobering up a little. "He got up in front of everyone at The Dip and sang this Welsh folk song. I looked over at Leolin and she was crying. They were inseparable after that."
"Heart of gold, that one," Moira said before seemingly remembering herself.
"Merlin, Malfoy," she said apologetically. "Why are we talking about this in front of you?"
"It's alright," Draco said casually, giving her an easy (albeit fake) smile. "She's not my fiancée anymore."
"That's right," Moira said, appraising him. "I heard you were getting married again. "Congratulations. What's she like?"
Draco fumbled a little, and Ginny spoke up.
"She's lovely," she said, giving Draco a reassuring wink.
It was nice to feel like she was back in his corner again.
"You deserve it," Moira said softly, touching his hand.
"I'm sure Kelly Troy doesn't think so."
Moira smiled.
"Kelly and Cara are dead happy together, trust me."
"Good for him," Ginny piped. "I always really did like him."
She looked at Blaise pointedly, and he made a weird face.
"Me too?" he said dubiously, and she rewarded the comment with a kiss.
"When are you two getting married?"
"Not for a while," Blaise said.
"We'll let Draco and Gen take the plunge first."
"Gee, thanks." Draco said, and Ginny gave him an eyebrow raise.
Everyone knew that Ginny was waiting to avoid a bride war with Gen.
"Well I ought to get going to The Dip," Ginny said. "Oliver and Blair are family men now. They're not going to rage all night like you lot."
"I love you," Blaise said, kissing her soundly. "See you at home."
She nodded, touching his cheek affectionately.
"Wake me up if I'm asleep," she said.
He nodded.
"Be good."
She laughed.
"You too. And you," she said, bending to kiss Draco softly on the cheek "Especially you."
Draco mimicked a halo around his head, and she rolled her eyes.
"Fallen angel, more like," she said. "Good to see you, Moira. Let's catch up soon."
Moira nodded.
"Tell Leolin to hang in there" she said, having sobered up considerably. "We're all pulling for her."
"She knows," Ginny said, sounding a little sad. She'd confessed to Blaise that she felt she'd lost Leolin's trust, and that Severina had usurped her place in Leolin's affections. "But I'll tell her."
She blew Blaise one more final kiss before shrugging into her leather jacket and heading out the door.
When she was gone, Blaise's eyes were immediately on Draco.
"What's up?" he demanded.
"Nothing?" Draco said dubiously. "What's up with you…?"
"No," Blaise said, giving a dismissive hand gesture. "What's going on with you? I hate to say it, but Pansy was right this morning; you look exhausted."
Draco took his glasses for a moment to rub his eyes. The magic in his lenses had been irritating his tired eyes all day, and he'd finally given up and put on glasses.
"What's up?" Blaise repeated.
Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair. He'd gotten it cut that afternoon, and the disparity between the 3/8ths of an inch on the side and the solid two inches of height on the top even more marked. Blaise had always felt like it was a somewhat outrageous look, but Draco wore it with such a grace that it was hard to argue with.
Draco had put on a tie since the morning and traded his smooth leather boots for Testoni Norvegese dress shoes in a becoming caramel.
"You mean besides almost being murdered by that psychopath Audige this afternoon?" Draco said.
Blaise gave him a withering look.
"Please, that's not what's bothering you. You were shirty way before we got to Hogwarts."
Draco sighed again.
"I didn't sleep well last night? I had a—troubling dream."
"About?" Blaise pressed, and Draco looked at him and groaned.
"Lefevre was in it."
Blaise raised his eyebrows.
"Don't suppose I have to ask what she was doing," Blaise said.
"No," Draco said tightly. "I don't suppose you do."
"Right," Blaise said. "So that's what's bugging you? I thought you said these kind of dreams weren't—uncommon."
Draco groaned.
"They weren't when I was single," Draco said. "I haven't really had one since Gen and I got serious."
"Oh," Blaise said. "I'm beginning to see the problem."
"Look," Draco said, clenching his jaw. This was oddly hard to talk about, even to Blaise. "I've sort of been struggling, you know—" he broke off.
"In the bedroom," Blaise finished for him.
Draco rubbed his eyes again.
"I think I'd just dead stressed," he said. "I can't focus on the extraneous stuff, you know?"
Blaise gave him a sympathetic look.
"Yeah."
"Have you and Gin, you know, slowed down since New Orleans?"
Blaise raised his eyebrows.
"No, it's been the exact opposite. It was like before we were having sex two or three times a week, but that just doesn't seem like enough right now. I just feel like—I don't know, after what happened to Leolin, I always want to have her in my arms and know she's safe. We've been having it practically every day since we got back."
"Great," Draco said sourly. "That's reassuring."
"Look," Blaise said. "Everyone deals with this stuff differently. I don't think it's a good idea for you to beat yourself up for how you cope."
"Yeah," Draco said. "And yet subconscious me can ride Lefevre right into ecstasy."
Blaise frowned.
"That's a different issue all together."
"It honestly gets worse," Draco groaned. "So I have this—horribly vivid dream about her, which includes us talking about our wedding and our—our kids; it was rough. Anyways, I woke up, and Gen starts, you know, coming onto me. I really didn't want to, but we haven't had that much sex since we got back to London, and I don't want her to feel like I'm mad at her."
"Right," Blaise said. "That seems fair."
"So we start," Draco said, licking his full bottom lip. "But I just—couldn't, you know—"
Blaise nodded in understanding.
"It happens," he said. "So you tell her you can't and finish her off. That's not a big deal, Drake. We've all done it."
"Right," Draco said. "I know. And that would have been fine, you're right."
"But that's not what you did," Blaise surmised.
"No," Draco admitted. "It wasn't. Look, I'm trying to get over whatever this is, and I want to be able to go back to the way things were with Gen!"
"So what did you do?" Blaise demanded.
Draco bowed her head.
"You know what I did."
"You didn't," Blaise said. "Drake, tell me you didn't."
"I wasn't thinking clearly!"
"So you fantasized about shagging Lefevre instead?" Blaise cried, somewhat horrified. "Did it work?"
"Of course it bloody did," Draco muttered angrily. "I came almost immediately."
Blaise groaned.
"Draco, you have to stop doing this!"
"Doing what?" Draco said irritably.
"Circling back to her! You need to move on!"
"I have done!" Draco snapped. "I love Gen! She makes me very happy."
"Is that why you almost shagged Lefevre when you went to London? Is that why you kissed her more than once in New Orleans? Drake, you refused to leave her side in Atlanta. Is that really what a bloke's who's over her would do? You're still trying to hold onto her! As your friend, I'm telling you to stop. You made your choice in Atlanta, and for the record, I think you made the right one. Stop. Looking. Back."
"That's easier said than done!" Draco said.
"Then try harder," Blaise snapped.
There was more that probably could have been said, but Gen strode in this then, and they abruptly stopped talking.
"Hey sugar," she said, eyes shining brightly. It was clear that she and Draco's romp had set her day off on the right foot, and she seemed to be glowing.
She wrapped her arms around Draco's neck and kissed him softly, and he allowed the gesture, his hands on her waist.
She was wearing a tasteful white cocktail dress with a fetching gold metal belt. Her hair was up and her lips were red. She looked lovely.
"You look nice," Draco said, appraising her.
"Too sexy?" she teased.
He kissed her again.
"Just sexy enough," he corrected.
She beamed, clearly basking in his affection today. Blaise clenched his jaw, knowing that at least part of her joy was fabricated. That wasn't good for anyone; if she found out Draco was playing her, she would be insufferable and possibly destructive.
"Just so you know," she said as they set off. "I can't stay long tonight. Ashley's come into town unexpectedly, and he said he has something he needs to talk about."
"What is it?"
"No clue," she replied. "His owl didn't say. He just said it was urgent."
"Is Brankovitch going, too?"
"I assume so," she said.
"Good," Draco said. "I want someone to see you home safety."
"I'll be with Ashley," she pointed out.
"He doesn't know London well," Draco said.
She nodded but said nothing more.
"Draco!" The doorman said as he watched them approach.
"How are you, Terrance?"
"Same as ever," Terrance said noncommittally.
"Genevieve," he said, making a dramatic show of kissing her hand. "Beautiful as usual."
"Oh stop," she said in her sweet drawl. "You'll make me blush."
"Nice frames," Terrance said to Draco, who smiled.
"Cheers."
"Good to see you, Zabini," Terry said, ushering them in. "You alright, mate?"
"Brilliant," Blaise said coolly. "You?"
Terrance smiled but said nothing.
"How a good evening," he said simply and Draco gave him a casual salute before stepping inside.
"Drink?" he said at once, keenly scanning the crowd.
He'd know Jack's stupid spiky hairdo anywhere. Draco didn't see him, though he watched Jaime whispering in the hair of a dark-haired girl he couldn't see and rolled his eyes. He considered going over there just to frustrate Jaime's plans, but thought better of it. Tonight was about staying below the radar as much as possible.
He cut to the main bar, throwing a 20 galleon note on the glass and smiling at Kam.
"Draco Malfoy," Kam said, smiling. 'The prodigal son returns."
Draco raised his eyebrows sinfully.
"Hope London didn't miss me too much."
"We hobbled through," Kam laughed. "What can I get you, mate?"
"Vodka on the rocks for me; gin martini for my fiancée."
Kam nodded setting about making them.
"Hey," Draco said casually. "You haven't see Jack Mclatchie creeping around here, have you? Stupid blighter owes me almost thirty galleons."
Kam gave Draco his drink and he took a healthy swallow.
"No offense," Kam laughed. "But what do you need with thirty g? Aren't you worth a quarter of a million, or something?"
"It's actually over a billion now," Draco said, smiling imperiously. "But who's counting? Anyways, this thing with Jack isn't about the money. It's about Malfoy's always collecting on their debts."
"Of course it is," Kam laughed. "Well I hate to disappoint you, but Jackie came in earlier with a collection of nefarious merch he was looking to meddle. He only had a drink or two before he split."
Draco wrinkled his nose. Damnit.
"Oh well," Draco said jovially. "I suppose I could just send my thugs after him."
"Poor old Jackie," Kam said." He never can seem to keep his nose out of trouble."
"Of course he can't," Draco said. "Right, thanks for the drinks, mate. We'll be back."
Draco had to wade around an annoying throng of men clogging up the middle of the bar. Draco couldn't see what they were looking at, but he was sure he could guess; this was always what happened when two slags decided to start kissing.
He made it back to Blaise and Gen finally.
"Well?" Blaise asked.
Draco shook his head.
"He dipped out early, that sodding twat."
"It might be alright," Blaise said, indicating someone with his eyes. "I think I've just found a suitable replacement."
Draco and Gen turned to look. Jaime was back to his typical spot, talking passionately to a fetching young woman.
She didn't seem particularly interested in him, but Jaime didn't seem ready to give in. He was usually only slimy at his worst, but his stance with this particular girl seemed uncharacteristically predatory. Her long hair, which was dark brown at its roots , faded into an electric blue, as she turned her head away from Jaime, they could see that one side has been partially shaved away; it was a fetching look at her. She opened her eyes, and Gen recoiled a little. The right eye was a deep, dark brown. Her left eye, however, was a bright, inorganic green, which stood out starkly against her sooty lashes. The contrast made it hard to look at her at first, though as your eyes adjusted it was easy to see that even if she was not quite pretty, she was far from ugly.
"Who is that?" Gen demanded, sounding uncharacteristically unkind. "And what the hell happened to her eyes?"
"That's Reagan Sharpe," Blaise provided. "She was our year in school, and she and Jaime dated on and off for about two years. She from a pureblood family, but they went bankrupt when Reagan was twelve. That always made her a bit of an outsider at school. We certainly weren't friends with her, but Ieuan was, and so was Astoria Greengrass. Her parents were death eaters, and when the Dark Lord rose our fifth year, her parents tried to get her to join ranks, but she told them no. They had a roe and her mum slashed her with this poison dagger. She's blind in that eye. Can't remember what happened to her parents, though."
"Her mum's rotting away in Azkaban," Draco said, still sizing Reagan up. "Her dad got the kiss."
"Anyways," Blaise said. "I don't really think she could stand it in London after she got out of Hogwarts, and I'm pretty sure she'd been in some kind of acrobatic troupe or something since then."
"She looks like a circle freak," Gen said caustically, and Draco gave her a reproving glance.
"Gene, that's enough," he said stonily.
"I can't look at her with that hideous eye!" Gen said. "Why couldn't she glamour it to look like the other?"
"Genevieve," Draco spit. "I said that's enough. I hate when you make me repeat myself."
Genevieve, somewhat cowed by his callousness, bowed her head, retrieving her floo as it began to issue a soft billow of smoke.
"Ashley's calling," she said. "I have to go."
"Fine," Draco said curtly. "See you at home."
"Aren't you going to kiss me goodbye?" she demanded expectantly.
He turned to her, diamond eyes sparkling from behind his frames. She gave him a repentant face, and he sighed, leaning in a kissing her softly.
"Thank you," she said. "And I'm sorry."
"Forgiven," he said at last.
"See you later, then," she said. "I'll wait up for you."
Her tone was full of meaning, and Draco and Blaise traded a look. They both could get what she'd want when he got back. It made his throat feel dry.
"See you later," Draco repeated.
Draco and Blaise slithered forward silently as she retreated, communicating with their eyes where best to go. Draco needed to hear what Reagan was saying to Jaime. He hoped for their sake she wasn't being too caustic. They could exploit their relationship if she didn't do too much damage. Having said that, he wasn't overly hopeful; diplomacy wasn't really her style.
Draco surreptitiously slid around the corner, hiding in the darkness and listening.
"Reagan," Jaime was saying. "Angelfish. You're breaking my heart."
"You broke mine first," she spit. "Or don't you remember?"
"That was ages ago," Jaime was saying. "I'm a changed man."
"Hardly," she said. "I saw you all over that slaggy brunette when I walked it."
"Oh, her? No, that was just a—work thing."
"Get off me, Jaime."
"Don't you remember how much fun we used to have?" Jaime was cooing. "I bet I could make you come right here, right now."
"Want to know a secret?" she demanded. "All those oh-oh-ohrgasms I had with you were fake," she said, faking one now. "I've had better sex with women."
"You're into girls now?" he asked eagerly. "That's incredibly hot."
"Ugh, you're a creep," she said, shoving him off.
Seemingly tired of trying to convince her, Jaime retreated, though Draco was sure he would make another attempt soon.
"Let me know, darling, if you change your mind."
"Get back to me when Hell freezes over," she called to his retreating back.
"If not before," he called, and she gave a scream of frustration.
When Draco was sure Jaime was gone, he yanked Reagan into the shadows, clamping a hand over her mouth so she couldn't scream. Quick as a flash she'd drawn her walnut wand and pointed it between his eyes.
"Be cool, Sharpe; damn! I'm not trying to hurt you!"
"What do you want, Malfoy? And where's your sidekick?"
Blaise had joined them in the shadows, and she smirked.
"Ah, right on cue, Zabini."
"It's important to be punctual, Sharpe. I feel like that's something you never really learned."
She only laughed, lowering her wand.
"What do you two prats want?"
Draco ignored the question, looking her up and down.
"You look good, Sharpe. The circus life suits you."
She crossed her arms.
"Don't objectify me," she said lazily. "And shouldn't you be off fornicating with Lefevre somewhere?"
Draco and Blaise looked at each other.
"Not if my new fiancée has anything to say about it," he said evenly.
"You and your little princess split up? Admittedly didn't see that coming!"
"She left him at the altar," Blaise added, as if reminding Draco he shouldn't trust Leolin.
"That's alright," Reagan said casually. "I never really liked her."
"Charming," Blaise said.
She shrugged.
"What can I say? I only speak the truth. Now what is it you want again? I don't believe you ever said. And if it's a devil's threesome, I am going to have to pass with regrets."
Draco rolled his eyes.
"You aren't my type," he said.
"You aren't really mine, either," Blaise said. "And I'm engaged to Ginny Weasley," he said proudly.
"Bully for you," Reagan said. "Now what are we all doing in the fucking shadows?"
Draco and Blaise traded a look.
"We have a…proposition for you, but we can't talk about it here. Wait ten minutes and meet us in the third private suite from the left."
"Ooh!" Reagan said with a false glee. "This all so delightfully cloak and dagger!"
"It's actually somewhat serious," Draco said imperiously. "And as someone with a Death Eater mummy and daddy, I'll bet you want to hear what I have to say."
She sobered up immediately.
"Fine," she said. "I'll be there."
The curtain rippled a few minutes later, and Draco groaned.
"We said ten minutes, Sharpe," he demanded.
"Don't shoot," Ieuan said, laughing as held up his hands.
"Hey Birdie," Blaise set. "Sit down and get a drink."
He gestured to the vodka chilling on the table.
"Cheers," Ieuan said, sitting down. "How fairs our search for Jackie?"
"Non-existent," Draco said, taking a sip. "He's not here. We found a replacement. An upgrade, some might say."
"Brilliant," Ieuan said. "Who?"
"Guess who," Reagan said, slipping through the curtain.
"Reagan!" Ieuan said delightedly. "What the hell are you doing back?'
She looked at Draco, who nodded.
"It would see the world needs me."
"We certainly do," Ieuan said, smiling.
"How's Rita?" she asked, poking him. "Married yet?"
He laughed merrily.
"I'm engaged," he admitted. "But not to Rita. My new fiancee's name is Luke."
"Luke," she said, letting the name roll around on her tongue. "Is that a—"
"Man's name? Ieuan finished. "Yes, it is."
She smiled.
"I always had my suspicions," she said, squeezing his hand.
"Yeah," he said sheepishly. "He makes me deliriously happy."
"Good for you," Reagan said.
"Drink, Sharpe?" Draco asked.
"Don't mind if I do," she replied sinking down and pouring some vodka over her ice.
A pair of extremely dark jeans sheathed her defined legs, highlighting the alluring slope of her quads and calves. Her shirt was black, tight, and long-sleeved, a stylization of the skeletal system defined by shimmering silver sequins. Draco could see the lacy black bra underneath, and he wondered if that was intentional or a consequence of the light. On her feet were a dangerous-looking pair of black stilettos. Reagan saw him eying them and raised her eyebrows.
"What?" she demanded. "Just because I'm a bad-ass bitch doesn't mean I have to tromp around in sodding combat boots. I'm still a woman, and my arse looks fantastic when I wear these."
Draco held up his hands.
"Far be it for me to start handing down fashion advice."
"Indeed," she sneered, eying him.
He was undaunted by this. She was trying to make a point; he knew he looked delectable, and so did she.
"So," she said. "Now that we've gotten all the chauvinism out of the way, let's talk about your proposition."
"It's simple, really," Draco said, leaning forward. "We want you to join us."
"Join you in what?" she asked, raising her chin and surveying them.
"In the fight against my father," Draco said simply. "You may not have realised it yet, but things are on the precipice of change."
"I have noticed," she said. "But what do you mean?"
"Lucius has Adrian Pucey hunting a necromancer in New Orleans," Blaise said solemnly.
"There's no such thing as Necromancy," Reagan said at once. "It's a child's terror. That's it."
"Just like the Hallows?" Ieuan asked.
"Adrian's cronies have been stealing Greek funerary vases. We thinking they're seeking something called Herpo's vessel. It's been rumoured to raise souls from the grave."
"You're serious," Reagan said, trying to process. "The Minister of Magic is searching for a necromancer? Who in Merlin's name is he trying to resurrect?"
Draco raised his eyebrows.
"You know who," he said.
"Literally," Ieuan repeated.
"No," Reagan said, shaking her head. "Your father killed You-Know-Who! Why would he do that if he was going to bring him back?"
"The Dark Lord mismanaged his power, last time around. He was on too shaky of ground. Potter was hunting horcruxes, and they were linked by the prophecy. Neither can live while the other survives... What if The Dark Lord foresaw all this and started making a contingency plan? My father, his loyal right hand, ever the dedicated servant. No one saw the body burned except my father. He did it alone. He could have easily preserved it instead."
"This is bloody mad," Reagan said, rising to her feet. "You are all dotty. What you're suggesting is impossible."
"It's not impossible," Draco countered. "It may not be probable, but it isn't impossible."
"When you take away the impossible," Blaise said, crossing his arms across his broad chest. "Whatever is left, however improbable, must be the truth."
Reagan considered, chewing her lip. Draco could see the cogs turning, and he knew she could tell he was right.
"Reagan," he said. "You know better than most how cruel parents can be. Help me take down my father, and I will see your mother pays the iron price from her crimes."
"You would exploit my past to coerce me?" she asked icily. "You have no idea what I've sacrificed already."
Reagan blinked before closing her eyes completely. When she opened them, her left eye was milky, and a jagged scar ran from her eyebrow to her cheekbone. It was admittedly hideous to look at, and Reagan only allowed the truth to remain visible several more seconds before restoring the glamour.
"Don't you dare to presume to know my struggle, Malfoy," she spit angrily. "I was a child forced into misery."
"This isn't about your personal past," Blaise burst.
"Then what is it about?" Reagan demanded.
"This is about the protection of the future. We've all been called to fight before, and we all know the horrors of war. The called has sounded again, and now our roles as the new generation make our participation that much more imperative."
"Why should I join your new world order?" she said. "I have no guarantees it won't oppress me as well."
"Because if you don't," Ieuan said seriously. "You'll die in the old one. You're a blood traitor, Reagan. How long to you expect to last after You-Know-Who rises and your mother is freed from prison?"
Reagan sank back down onto the couch.
"If I was to join you," she said carefully. "What role would I play?"
"For the foreseeable future?" Blaise said. "As a spy."
"And whom do you propose I spy on? The inner circle would never accept me."
"But Jaime Quinn would," Draco said. "You let him into your good graces and steer clear of Adrian. That will likely be a non-issue; Jaime will want to keep your tryst a secret."
"Jaime is a button man," Reagan said. "Not a power player."
"And yet he hears things," Blaise said. "Things he often seems challenged to keep to himself.
Reagan considered, chewing her lip again. Draco knew that it had been Jaime who had dumped her. That kind of betrayal always stung.
"You do realise you'd be asking me to sleep with him, right?"
Blaise and Draco traded a look.
"Like a lot," she said. "And he's really not that good. He's selfish and lazy—"
"Right," Draco said uncomfortably. "We get it; he's not good in the sack. And we know it's a shitty thing to ask, but you don't realise what people have already given up for this cause."
"You would presume to tell me about sacrifice?" she demanded haughtily.
Ieuan interrupted her before she could continue.
"Leolin got hit with a sectumsempra by Radomir Dolohov, and now she can't have children."
Reagan looked somber and no longer indignant.
"Is that enough of a sacrifice for you, Reagan?" Ieuan spit.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I didn't know."
"She's still fighting, by the way," Ieuan continued. "She's still here despite that."
Reagan nodded, bowing her head.
"Alright," Reagan said at last. "I'm in."
Draco smiled grimly, producing a contract.
"What's this?" she asked, sliding it towards her so she could read it.
"It's a binding contract," Blaise said. "We have to know we have your silence and your discretion."
She nodded before signing with a flourish.
"Done," she said. "I'm yours."
"Should we drink to it?" Ieuan suggested.
"Naturally," Blaise said, and they raised their glasses.
"To the new world order," Reagan said.
"And confusion to our enemies," Draco intoned.
With that they all took a drink.
"Shit that's good," Reagan said, wiping her mouth. "It tastes so—"
"Expensive?" Draco offered, raising his eyebrows. "Welcome to my world, Sharpe."
Just then the curtains rustling and Pansy stuck her head in.
"Oh good," she said jovially. "You're still here."
"We're pretty much done," Blaise said. "You might want to welcome the newest member."
Pansy smiled at Reagan but said nothing.
"Did you need something in particular?" Draco asked, watching Pansy hold the curtains tightly closed.
"No," she chirped. "I just wanted to see if you lot fancied a drink."
"We will be out in a minute. Meet you at the back bar."
"No!" she said too quickly. "I'll play mother! I don't mind at all. "What call I get you?"
"She's hiding something," Reagan said casually.
"Who asked you, Sharpe?" Pansy drawled somewhat nastily.
Draco was on his feet now, though. Pansy casually stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
"Don't be dodgy, Pans," he warned. "Let me pass."
Having no conceivable reason to further detain him, she stepped aside, biting her lip and throwing a look at Blaise.
Blaise frowned in incomprehension, but by that time Draco had drawn back the curtain.
"Maleficent," Reagan said mirthfully as they all took in the scene unfolding before them. "Are those shorts or knickers? I really can't decide."
There, lying on the bar, was Leolin, her legs barely sheathed by a pair of an impossibly tiny gold sequined shorts. Her legs were elongated by the six inch heels on her feet, and they gleamed with what seemed like a fresh tan. She wore a sheer black long-sleeved shirt on top, though it clearly was meant to showcase the tantalizing lacy, silk bra underneath. Her shirt had been pulled up to reveal her tight stomach and gawdy belly button ring, which Draco was sure she hadn't worn since she was sixteen. Mad as he was in that moment, his throat ached as his eyes skated across the thin white scar arching up from below her waistband. It was fully healed now, the white tissue even glittering a bit in the light, but for those who knew what it had cost Leolin, it was an eyesore.
"What the bleeding hell is she doing?" Draco demanded, his voice chilly.
"I'm going to go out on a limb and suggest she's about to be the vessel for a body shot," Reagan replied in a droll voice.
"Stow it, Sharpe; you're not helping," Blaise said.
Sure enough, Bentley Blackburn, who was his little brother Geoff's foil in every way imaginable, stepped forward to cheers and wolf whistles.
"Oh my Merlin," Ieaun blurted. "Tell me this isn't happening."
"I'm sorry," Pansy said fretfully, stepping in front of Draco while desperately trying to get him to look elsewhere. "I didn't want you to have to see this."
"Why?" Reagan said. "It's gearing up to be quite the show."
"Reagan!" Ieuan snapped. "Stop already."
"Birdie's right, Drake. Let's go," Blaise said, putting a hand on Draco's chest. "Whatever this is, there's no reason for you to get involved."
"No," Draco said coldly, eyes. "This little charade is obviously for my benefit. I would hate to disappoint Lefevre by not watching."
He pushed forward, and everyone gave him space as he moved. Bentley look like a little boy on Christmas morning. He was married, Draco was fairly certain, but that didn't seem to bother anyone, least of all Leolin.
Her eyes glittered as she laughed, her teeth bright under the chandeliers hanging above her. She looked like a different person than she had been when Draco last saw her half-dead in Atlanta, and it made his stomach clench uncomfortably; something warm had began to pool there.
Her glossy hair was fanned out beneath her like a dark halo, and her cheeks were tinged a lovely shade of pink. Her lips were the colour of fresh cherries,and he felt the sensation in the pit of his stomach intensify as she wet them with her tongue. Her long, dark lashes fluttered flirtatiously.
She had never been more beautiful nor more vivacious. She was like the most exquisite banquet ever laid out, and all Draco wanted in that moment was to feast.
Draco grit his teeth together as her bell-like laughter hovered above the din for a moment before disappearing amongst more hoots and cheers. After what had happened that morning with Gen, he could no longer deny how much he missed Leolin. He still hated her, of course, but that didn't make him want to punch Bentley Blackburn any less.
Kam, was saying something to Leolin, and she laughed merrily again before sitting up and shrugging out of her shirt.
"I don't want to ruin it!" she cried, and everyone cheered as she handed it to one of the cocktail waitresses to hold.
Now that her shirt was off, they could all see the tops of her heaving, perfect breasts.
Kam eased her down again, and she laughed for a third time.
"This is Spanish silk," she told Bentley, gesturing to bra. "Try not to get it wet."
He nodded and laughed as well, clearly infected by her dazzling joy.
This was a rouse, Draco told himself. He knew she wasn't happy, mostly because he'd made her so. Besides, he knew Leolin. This sort of thing wouldn't have made her happy anyway. She was many things, but this certainly was not one of them.
Still, watching her eyes sparkle as Kam carefully wet her skin with a lime wedge and slowly poured salt all over her tantalizing flesh made him want to break something. Or someone. Finally, Kam placed a tall thin shot glass between Leolin's thighs, and another bout of cheers erupted as she gripped it gently.
"Careful," Kam warned, laughing as she shifted her hips slightly.
"Don't worry," she said, winking. "I'm on the potion."
The crowd gave a bawdy round of applause, and Draco clenched his jaw, feeling sick to his stomach.
"Alright Blackburn," Kam said, clapping Bentley—who was still grinning like an idiot—on the back. "Do your worst."
Leolin kept still as Bentley tongue flicked down her sternum before snaking slowly down her navel, devouring the thin trail of salt and leaving a wet line on her skin. Finally, he reached her waistband, and he gave the crowd a seductive eyebrow raise before plucking the lime Kam had tucked there out. Finally he dipped between her thighs and retrieved the shot glass with his lips.
Everyone exploded as he threw his head back, downing the shimmering liquor and grinning before pulling the glass out of his mouth and holding up like a trophy. This was accompanied by more cheering, which only increased when he leaned down to claim the lime wedge from Leolin's cherry lips. She sat up.
"Well that was unpleasant," Pansy breathed as they watched Bentley suck the lime dry and before bowing to thunderous applause.
"I actually thought it was kind of sexy," Reagan said as Leolin, smoothed her dark hair and smiled almost bashfully. "I think I like Lefevre a little more now."
"Merlin, Reagan," Ieuan growled irritably, but Draco wasn't listening. "Please fucking stop. This is serious, and you're being really cruel."
Leolin was sliding off the bar and back onto her six inch heels, and Draco made straight for her.
"Drake!" Blaise cried, trying to intervene. "Let her go. We can't afford for you to get into it with her! We need her, and things are delicate enough as it is. If she wants to do this, you have to let her."
Draco shrugged Blaise off irritably and cut cleanly through the throng.
"Salazar!" Blaise hissed in irritation. "Why can you never just leave well enough alone?"
Draco ignored him, his pace swift and meaningful. Leolin didn't see his approach until it was too late, and he thwarted her attempt to evade her by pinning her hips to the bar with his own. By now he and Leolin were practically nose-to-nose. Merlin, did she smell good.
"That was quite the little show," he grit out, eyes like diamond-cut glass. "I very much enjoyed it."
"Leave me alone, Malfoy," she said simply, all of her sparkle from earlier long forgotten.
He narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing her. None of that merriment had been real. Up close she seemed as wounded as ever, and part of him secretly yearned to fold her into his arms.
"You can play pretend for Bentley Blackburn, Lefevre, but you can't fool me."
"It wasn't my intention to fool you," she replied in the same even tone. "Quite the opposite, in fact. Now let me go."
She put her hands on his chest to drive him back, and he felt an odd but nasty panic swelling up as she began to retreat. He wasn't sure else there was to be said, but he selfishly knew in that moment than he didn't want her to walk away.
"I know," he said imperiously, his anguish pinned down and choked by his selfish pride.
She turned back, looking weary.
"What is it you think you know?"
"I know where you are," he repeated in a commanding tone. "It's not here. It's not table dancing and body shots."
"You're right," she said, meeting his eye. Hers were sad and empty, so much so that she barely looked like the girl who'd laid on the bar earlier. "I'm still at rock bottom," she breathed softly, voice quivering slightly. "Just where you left me. Satisfied?"
He had not expected her candor, and he froze, not sure what to say. The sorrow in her dark eyes was like an anchor around his cold soul; it dragged him down and pulled him under.
"Excuse me," she said softly, and with that she brushed by him.
Leolin stood on the deserved rooftop of the Em, smoking a cigarette. She let a thin trail of violet smoke escape her nostrils and lips, enjoying the perfumy smell. Every minute or so, she wiped a tear off her cheek.
She felt disgusting, and she shuddered when she thought of Bentley's touch on her flesh, and the look on Draco's face. She knew that had been her job to push him to the brink, but she couldn't bear the way he'd looked at her, almost as if she was cheap.
She was cheap, she thought numbly. Cheap and used. Now it all felt so utterly hollow. There was a sick irony to it: sexually exploited for years, yet unable to even bear a child.
She heard an odd noise, and she turned to the glass wall and started.
"Well done," Adrian said through the partition.
"Would you please stop doing that?' she snarled. "Why can't you travel around like a normal person?"
He raised his eyebrows. Before she could protest, the glass began to ripple like the surface of a lake and he was sauntering through, his hands tucked neatly into the pockets of his pressed trousers.
"I must say," he began, eyes wolfish. "When I imagined you dressing like a tart, I never dreamed it would be this delicious."
She turned her back to him, taking another drag of her cigarette to avoid having to look at him. She didn't want to betray how uneasy she was.
"Shouldn't you be off somewhere vainly searching for Herpo's Vessel?" she sneered.
He laughed hardily, and in made a sickening knot in her stomach. That had sounded genuine.
"Herpo's vessels?" he repeated condescendingly "What on earth are you talking about?"
She clenched her jaw. Was this a bluff on his part or a miscalculation on hers? She couldn't be sure.
"You think you've awfully clever, don't you?" she snapped.
His eyes traced the bow of her lips before bleeding up to study her face.
"I am clever," he said, rubbing the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. "Come closer and I'll show you just how clever I am."
She pushed his hand away, heart thumping.
"I'm not afraid of you," she warned, summoning the last of her courage.
He gave a condescending laugh in response, teeth glinting malevolently.
"That's pathetic lie," he said, surveying her almost dispassionately, circling her and making her shoulders tense reflexively. "I see the way you look at me, Lefevre. I terrify you. I can hear your heart beating from here."
She sneered but didn't reply, desperate to prove him wrong.
"What's wrong?" he goaded, leaning in gentle finger the chandelier in her right ear. "No sharp retort? Where's that smart little tongue of yours, Lefevre?"
"Leave me alone, you snake" she warned breathlessly, shrugging off his touch and shuddering. "Your touch makes me sick."
She could tell how much her distain wounded and annoyed him. He was an extremely dashing bloke; she was sure he wasn't used to dealing with women who didn't find him painfully alluring.
"Some day you'll love it," he said seriously, gold eyes glinting. "Someday you're going to beg me to touch you."
"I never will and you know it," she demanded wearily. "Give up."
"On you? Never," he said nastily, grabbing her wrist and bending it at an unnatural angle. She cried out a little in pain. "And if you don't start behaving yourself, I am going to make everyone around you pay for it."
She thought of Ginny and Blaise and Severina and most of all, Draco. She tried to fight it, but his threats and his fierce grip brought fresh tears to his eyes.
"Do you understand me?" he demanded, hand like a vice as he continued to torque. If he went on for much long he was going to snap her wrist.
"Please," she begged quietly. "Let go. You're hurting me."
This only made his grip tighter. He wanted to punish her for always scorning him. She ought to stop; she knew it was only hardening his resolve to possess her body and soul.
"Do you understand?" he repeated as if she was a child, and she nodded wordlessly, trying to pry his fingers off.
"Now," he sneered coldly. "Did Draco see you?"
She bit her lip, which was trembling.
"Answer me!" he demanded.
"Yes," she begged, a sobbing bursting forth. "Please, I did what you wanted! He was furious."
"Good," he snapped, clearly still venting his frustration on her.
"Adrian!" she begged, never feeling more pitiful. His crushing grip was agonizing. "Please, let go! You're going to break my wrist!"
He towered imperiously above her, clearly reveling in her begging.
"Adrian!" she sobbed unhappily.
He ignoring her pleading, jerking his hand up and breaking the bone with a sickening snap. She screamed.
"I love the way you say my name," he told her, finally letting go.
She cradled her wrist to her chest as she bent her head, using her other hand to shield her eyes.
"Go away," she pleaded through more tears. "Please, just leave me alone."
This seemed to frustrate him.
"You're on borrowed time, Lefevre," he sneered, his breath falling on her neck as he leaned into her. "I know you still think there's time to win Draco back, but there isn't."
"Please," she whispered sorrowfully. "I did what you asked. I just want to be alone."
He seemed satisfied with what he'd managed to cleave from her.
He stooped to kiss her still-battered cheek, and she was so defeated she couldn't fight him off.
He used a knuckle to gently wipe one of her tears.
"Until next time, then."
He disappeared in a single quiet swish.
When he was gone, Leolin straightened, wincing as she examined the sickening angle of her broken wrist. Drawing her wand, she mended it, though it was still extremely sore and was sure to leave another wicked bruise. Finally, she wiped her eyes and took a shuddering breath. She'd never been so scared as she had been tonight. Between Adrian's cruelty and Draco's cold sneer, she was half-tempted to leap from the balcony and end it all. However, she thought of Draco again and the look in his eyes when he'd asked her to marry him, and the tears stopped.
Adrian was wrong; she would never be his, and someday she'd drive a knife in his neck, just as she had with Scabior.
She wiped her tears and fixed her makeup before lighting another fag.
"There you are. I thought I'd left."
She rolled her eyes. Could no one respect that face that she wanted to be alone?
"Not quite," she said.
"May I?" Blaise asked, stepped forward gesturing to the pack.
She nodded and he lit it with his floo.
"Merlin, he said, exhaling a lungful of smoke. "This really takes me back."
She nodded, but didn't engage.
"What are you doing here?" she asked at last. "No offense, Blaise, but I'd really like to be alone."
"I know," he said as she turned her back. "Draco told me everything."
"Everything about what?"
"I know about London. I know you told him you loved him."
"So?" she said.
"So," he replied, his tone frosty now. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Back off," she said. "I don't owe you anything."
She made to storm away, but he grabbed her by the same sore wrist Adrian had broken. She cried out in pain then jerked back, drawing her wand in a flash.
"I said back off," she snarled. She flourished her wand, and two hissing asps appeared, they onyx heads faced towards Blaise.
"Leolin!"
"You have no idea what I've been through," she roared. "So just fuck off and leave me alone."
The asps were still hissing and Blaise backed away. One bite and he could be dead before he could draw out the poison.
"I know enough," he said more softly. "Leolin please!"
"You don't know anything!" she cried, and the asps snapped and hissed at her feet, keeping him from advancing on her. "What you know about my trouble wouldn't fill a fucking thimble."
"Lai!"
"Please," she said, some of the fight having fallen away from her. "Just leave me alone."
The asps dissipated into nothing, and she heaved a great sigh, looking out instead. Blaise could see Leolin now, the real Leolin, and she seemed absurd and ill at ease in her slutty get-up.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked gently.
She glanced at him then looked away.
"No, I don't."
"Look, Lai, you're right; I have no idea the pain you must be going through right now, but I'm here for you. Gin and I both are. You don't have to keep us at arms length anymore. Please, let us in. We can help you."
"Can you turn back time?" Leolin said softly. "Because that's the only way you can help me."
"Let me in," Blaise prompted taking a tentative step towards her. "Please, I have to know the truth."
"The truth about what?" she said hoarsely looking away.
He paused, surveying her before frowning sympathetically.
"Why did you go?" He asked quietly, and for once she didn't answer with another question.
"I haven't even told Draco," she said resolutely. "What makes you think I would tell you?"
"Severina knows," Blaise said. "I can see in her eyes. You would tell her and not me?"
"That's different," Leolin said, biting her lip.
"How?" Blaise asked, sounding more than a little hurt.
In truth, she bitterly long to break her silence, but her fear stopped her.
"Leolin, We've been friends for almost ten years, and I love and care about you. Please, please talk to me."
The urge to cry was back and stronger then ever.
"If I tell you, I want you to promise me you won't tell anyone else."
"Done," he said at once.
She heaved a sigh. She had spent five years trying to forget. Even she and Sev didn't talk about it much.
"The night before the wedding, Draco and I slipped out of the party onto the balcony, and the Weasley twins of all people were waiting for us with this incredible fireworks display. I have no earthly idea how Draco'd managed to convince them, but he had and it was—Merlin, it was amazing. It was also, you know, sexy, and we'd been drinking so we were all over each other. But I wanted to do this muggle tradition where the bride and groom spend the last night apart so the first time they see on their wedding day is at the altar."
"That's the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard," he commented dryly. "Honestly, muggles really are the goddamn worst."
She nodded but didn't laugh or smile.
"So I sent him away instead, insisting he go to his own room." She sighed again, taking a deep breath to keep the feeling in her throat at bay. "That is the worst decision I've made in my entire life, and there is not a day that goes by that I don't regret it."
"Oh c'mon," he laughed. "Draco can't possibly be that good."
She gave him a sad frown and he snapped his mouth shut immediately.
"I'm sorry, go on."
"Gods, the minute he left though I was secretly wishing he'd come back. Then right before I was about to fall asleep I heard a knock on my door. I knew it was him. I threw open the door, and there he was grinning at me with a bottle of outrageously expensive champagne he'd knicked from Lucius."
She paused, and he could see her replaying the scene in her mind.
"Go on," he prompted gently.
"We finished the bottle, and honestly things got hazy after that, but he promised he would be gone before I woke up, and we'd still get to do the muggle thing."
"Right," he said. "And was he?"
She nodded.
"I woke up the next morning with a sore head and the worst hangover, so I drank this tonic he'd left for me and finally got up. Then I saw him standing out on my balcony, and I thought 'that little liar, he's still bloody here!' so I went out there half mad and half laughing and threw a shoe at him. Then he turned around, and—" she bowed her head. "it wasn't him."
She looked down and wrinkled her nose again, determined not to shed a single tear. Finally, she gathered up the courage to look over at him and his face was sympathetic and extremely doleful. He was frowning in miscomprehension, but when she met his eye, his face fell.
"Lucius," he breathed. "It was Lucius."
"I had no idea what was going on, and I insisted to know how he'd managed his way into my room. That's when he told me—I'd let him in the night before, and he'd spent the night."
"Leolin," Blaise breathed.
"As it turned out," she interrupted. "Draco had done what I asked; he'd had a drink with you then gone back to his room and passed out."
"How did Lucius—" Blaise began before giving a knowing nod, tucking his hands in his pockets and looking at the ground. "Polyjuice," He surmised.
She nodded again, biting her cheek as she dug her nails into her palms
"Obviously I was just—ugh, heartsick. I felt physically ill, and I swear to Merlin I stopped breathing for a whole minute. I just couldn't believe how violated I felt and how ashamed I was. At the same time, my mind was racing. What on Earth was I going to tell Draco? How would he even being able to look at me, knowing that I'd unwittingly given the person he hated the most the one thing that was supposed to be only his?"
"So you ran?"
She shook her head.
"No, of course not. In the end I remembered how much we loved each other, and I knew we would get through it together. Unfortunately, Lucius knew that, too. Have you ever heard of the Le Fay draught?"
He nodded, shaking his head in disgust as he tried to wrap his head around what she was telling him. "Pansy wrote her dissertation about it at University."
"The hangover potion I thought Draco had left me was actually the first elixir. When I drank it, I'd unknowingly activated the curse."
"So he was planning on blackmailing you."
"He threatened to give you the other half, and I—" she paused, shaking her head as her lip trembled. "I love you, Blaise; I couldn't do that to you. Besides, what did it matter? Lucius could given it to anyone, and would've destroyed Draco anyway. Better that I leave and give him a chance to start again.
So Lucius ordered me to write a note and sign a gag before he threw me out."
"What were the terms?" Blaise asked.
She bowed her head.
"I wasn't to write or speak to any of you. Not my family, not my friends, no one. I was never to step foot in the UK or France ever again. I don't really know what would have happened if I had, and I never tried. Then he took me to King's Cross, stuffed me in a muggle cab with a handful of these absurd muggle bills, a portable floo, and the other half of the Le Fey tincture."
Blaise sighed again. "Fuck," he said. "That man is clever. We honestly didn't see his hand in any of this."
She nodded sadly, looking almost betrayed. "I would have thought he would have been the first one Draco would have suspected."
"Well, he was. But he worked the long con, and he even had Draco fooled."
He paused then continued.
"About an hour after you were meant to be up, Draco said he'd went to check on you and you'd spoken through the door.
She nodded.
"That was our goodbye."
"You still weren't down a half and hour later, and this time Ginny went to see what you were up to. She burst into Draco's room, insisting you'd left."
"Draco didn't believe it, of course, even when he read your letter. He got scary quiet, and he said he was going to kill 's when Hell broke loose. The door literally flies open and Lucius whirls in spitting fire. Honestly, I've never seen something so unsettling. He has this murderous look on his face, and he and Draco are screaming at each other at once. They both draw their wands, but Lucius is a hair quicker, and in the blink of an eye he had Draco writhing on the floor with the cruciatus.
"Lucius was demanding to know where you'd gone, yelling about you disgracing the Malfoy name. He broke everything in a room in this crazy rage, and almost killed Draco. He insisted that Draco find you and drag you back, and he threatening to kill if Draco didn't find you in twelve hours or less. Then he disapparated."
"After he left, Draco started panicking. I've never seen him like that before or since. I honestly thought he was going to go bald from grabbing his hair, and I don't know how he didn't pass out; he was barely breathing at all, and even when he did it was in these short, manic breaths."
"He thought his father's reaction confirmed that Lucius had been planning on using you to manipulate Draco, and that he was furious because you had frustrated that goal. Looking back, oh my gods, I can't believe how well he sold it."
"Anyways, when it become clear that it wasn't Lucius, Draco keeps repeating that you could be anywhere, and before Gin and I could stop him he disapparated too. Of course, the two of them are the only two people in the whole Manor who can apparate in and out like that, so even though I went after him, he was long gone by the time I got to London. He flooed and said he was in Paris and he wasn't coming back until he found you. He honestly must have gone to every major city in Europe, and he literally had thousands of people looking for you."
"I know," she said sadly. "He came to Florence and I saw him."
"He didn't see you?"
She shook her head. "He couldn't because of the curse. He came to the dingy little café I worked it, and somehow I thought I was saved. He looked right through me; he had no idea who I was."
He frowned sympathetically. "That's—Merlin, that's fucking terrible."
"What happened then?" she asked, not wanting to remember seeing Draco's face as he combed the street for her.
"Well, about four weeks into his manhunt this picture shows up in the Swiss gossip rags, and Skeeter gets a hold of it and publishes it in the Prophet."
"What picture? Believe me, I stayed well away from the spotlight in Italy."
"It obviously wasn't you," he said dejectedly. "But this girl was a dead-ringer. Lucius must have slipped her polyjuice. He even gave her your dragon tattoo. That's what convinced him. No one besides us really knew you had that thing."
"What was in the photo?" she asked, and he gave her a weary look.
It was you—I mean your twin or whatever—with some Swiss bloke, she was kissing and pawing him like he was her life force. Draco saw that and he just—Jesus, he just came completely undone. He came back to London and then—he completely fell apart.
He was doing all kinds of crazy drugs and gallivanting across Europe, getting himself into loads of trouble. Finally I caught up with him this one night in Latvia. He's with some slutty girl out of his mind on some sort of synsysthetic drug. I tried to bring him back with me, but he absolutely refused. I was seriously worried he was going to die, and I got to London incredibly desperate.
It was raining, I remember, and it was 3 AM. I had no idea where to go, but I knew I needed help. I thought about going to Narcissa, but she was in the throes of her divorce with Lucius, and I didn't think she would be able to convince him home anyway. I was fretting; if I couldn't convince Draco to come home, who could?
That's when it hit me. It was a desperate play for sure, but it was the only one I had. I was pounding on your mum's door for ten minutes, crying my eyes out. Finally she came to the door and I begged her to come with me to Riga and set Draco straight. I figured if there was anyone who could sympathize with him, it was her. She didn't ask any questions; she just got dressed and came with me. She never said how she'd managed to convince him, but she did, and he's been loyal as a dog to her and your dad ever since."
"But what about you? What happened after you left London?"
Leolin sighed, overwhelmed by Blaise's tale.
"I didn't know where to go or who to turn to. Lucius warned me I had to be out of the UK by sundown, but I didn't have any money or contacts, and I was not going to take a muggle flying whatever. Besides, I had no earthly idea how their money worked.
I was freaking out, trying to think through everyone I'd ever known. Lucius had me beat, though. No one with Lefevre or Madoc blood. No one who'd ever attended Hogwarts. No one who was at the wedding. I realized in that moment there was literally only one sodding person who I could call and if I didn't reach out to him, I might die before I could get out of the Empire."
He shook his head to indicate he had no idea who she was talking about.
"My cousin Cristian," she bit out. "He's only my cousin by marriage, and his mother isn't even a Lefevre anymore. He went to Beauxbatons, and despite what my mother wanted, Draco and I didn't invite him to the wedding."
"And he agreed to help you?"
"Yes."
"On what terms?"
"That I give him the one thing he'd always wanted but could never have."
"Which was?"
She shook her head in disgust before looking at him pointedly.
"I have twenty three female Lefevre cousins, and besides me, he'd literally slept with them all. He said he'd help me, and in return all I had to do was help him achieve his sick goal."
"Lai—" Blaise said, and she nodded.
"I was so desperate that of course I agreed. And besides, I felt so disgusting after what I'd done with Lucius I didn't even care. Cristian would be fucking an empty shell."
"So you two went to Florence."
"Yes, but when I got there I found out that Cristian didn't really have money either. He'd squandered his inheritance and his late father's fortune, and there was barely anything left. Beyond that, sex became part of his price for not running to Lucius. I was wasting away, and I knew I had to find some way to buy Cristian's silence. I tried to think of what skills I had and how to apply them. I was technically an art historian, but the Italian art community was tight-knit and disdainful of outsiders, especially French ones.
I started thinking about it and examining the Wizarding market, formulating this idea. A little off the well-beaten auction path, there were discussions of the illegal buying and selling of Muggle works by Wizarding artists."
"Isn't that what you studied in France?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Well, not the illegal bit, but I definitely knew all these artists intimately. The problem was that trading circuit was also something of a closed loop, and the black market dealers were suspicious of outsiders for fear of Aurors slipping in. I decided the only way to get in on the action was to bring new product."
She paused and he seemed to connect the dots.
"Merlin's fucking beard. You're La Génie du Mal?"
She didn't seem proud like most people would have been.
"I didn't want to be," she said miserably, "but I had no other options. I was bartending and waiting tables and we were living off my shift meals in the worst part of the city. We only had one bedroom, but even if we hadn't, Cristian derived this sick pleasure from knowing he'd bested Draco in the end. It got to the point where it was either steal art or commit suicide."
He shook his head sadly. "Oh Leolin—"
"I only wanted to steal the pieces I absolutely had to," she continued. "So I needed an entrée into high society to see what buyers were really after. The problem was I was a total nobody in Florence, and I was afraid to flex any aristo muscles and tip Lucius off to where I was or what I was doing. If Cristian was good at one thing, it was disappearing. I was confident that Lucius had no idea where I was, and that gave me some freedom.
Anyways, I realized in the end that I needed someone to introduce me around as someone else. I would be a rich, sleek, mysterious dealer from Paris who had an intimate knowledge of the seedy underworld and a serious nose for blood. In short, I needed to join the Italian elite and establish myself as a broker while still maintaining I wasn't actually the thief. I knew that's what my clients would respond to."
"Severina," Blaise concluded.
Leolin nodded.
"I had thought of calling her instead of Cristian the day of the wedding, and of course now I wish I did."
"How did you ever get her to agree?" Blaise quiered. "The last time you saw each other she hated you."
"How else? I cut her in. Twenty-five percent. I also had twenty-five going to Cristian, who was the fence. Even when I paid off my other two thieves, who are a set of Scottish twins you would love, the lion's share was still mine. Severina also helped me cultivate this persona and perfect my Italian. She also just brought me back to life. She helped me rein Cristian in, expanded my clientele and brought me into the elite fold. She was my rock in Florence, and she helped me to love the city; she helped me love myself again. I owe her everything."
"But in all the time we were friends, I never said anything about Draco and she never asked. One night we were sitting looking out at the Loggia della Signoria drinking wine and she asked me why I'd left. I told her everything. We sat out there all night and cried, and when the sun finally crested over the piazza where Michelangelo's David had stood before we'd stolen it, I honestly felt reborn."
"When was this?"
"Three years in. After that, Severina began asking if I planned to live this double life forever, and was I really content to never see my family again? Never see Draco again? I told her I didn't want to know what he was doing because it was too painful, but she began insisting that if I really loved him then time was running out. That's when I started working on a countercharm. I used to do it all the time in school, and it came back to me fairly quickly. I hit a lot of walls, but Severina kept reminding me of the life I'd had and my family and friends, and that motivated me. I also longed to finally cut Cristian loose, and she pointed out I could only do that by going back. We planned to give him the business then wait six months and tip off the Aurors. We agreed that was just desserts for everything he'd done."
"When did you finally break the charm?" Blaise asked.
"Six weeks before I got back." She bowed her head. "And that was when I found out Draco was engaged. I didn't really expect him to still be single after five years, but I was hoping against hope that somehow he knew I still loved him and I'd come back for him in the end. I never stopped loving him."
"After all this time?"
She looked at him earnestly.
"Always," she said, exhaling deeply. Her eyes were stinging from the effort not to cry.
"Why did you never tell him this?" Blaise implored. "Were you afraid he wouldn't understand? Lai, I know he would have."
"I know that too," she said. "But that night Adrian nabbed me at the Domus, I found out that Lucius had connected La Genie back to me. He forced me under another gag. He said if I told Draco the truth, he'd send me to Azkaban."
Blaise nodded.
"We should have known."
"I was discouraged," Leolin admitted. "But I knew I'd come to far to give up. Still, it wasn't easy. I don't know what I expected to happen when I showed back up in London, but the look Draco gave me when he first saw me at the party—it was so terrible. Still," she said. "I held my ground. Severina kept reminding me that Draco didn't know the truth yet, and that I only had to keep chipping away at him. And I did. I could feel it in South Carolina. I could feel him warming to me, starting to trust me again. I could see he was jealous of Kelly and Max and I knew I was gaining back ground."
"What exactly happened in London?" he asked softly.
"I thought you said you knew," she said, a little defensive now.
Blaise looked sympathetic for having played her.
"Draco never said for sure. I just assumed."
She shrugged.
"It was just the two of us against the world, and we made good progress on the painting. One night we went to dinner at the Villa in Greece and had this amazing dinner with his family, and for that one second I got to be his wife. When we got home and we kissed. We were well on our way to having sex when I accidentally said I love you and he exploded."
He nodded.
"Still though, even after London I could feel him gravitating back to me again. Even after I slept with Max. Our predicament was drawing us back together, and I was falling dangerously more in love every day. Then there was the ambush."
She bowed her head.
"I really thought I was going to die in Draco's arms," she admitted. "Some part of me wanted to."
"I don't know if you remember," Blaise said quietly. "But Draco told you he loved you."
She felt a lump in her throat.
"I thought I'd dreamt it."
He shook his head.
"Anyways," she said finally. "We were in the hospital room in Atlanta, the ache of my infertility hanging between us, and I wanted so badly to reach out and claim him at last. Then he started demanding the truth, and I physically couldn't give it. Watching him storm out of the room was the worst moment of my entire life."
She bent her head and began to sob, her shoulders heaving up and down.
"Of all the horrible things I've endured over the last five years, that was by far the most painful. I came home loving him more than ever, and now—"She continued to sob, driving the heels of her palms into her eyes to staunch the flow of tears. "Now he hates me! He can barely stand to look at me! I—I don't know what to do about it! It's killing me! And to top it off, he's with that horrid Yankee bitch."
"He doesn't hate you," Blaise said after a long bout of silence, looking off in the distance. "I know he doesn't."
"Yes he does," Leolin said miserably. "And I don't blame him."
"No," Blaise said again quietly. "He doesn't."
"How do you know that?"
"Because he's told me!" Blaise burst, and Leolin looked at him, stunned. "He's been grappling with it since you came back," Blaise said.
"He said that?" she asked meekly.
"Leolin," he said in frustration. "He can barely think about anything else. It's driving him bloody mad. There is some days that I think he forgets Genevieve is even alive. When we weren't sure if you would make it through the night, she couldn't tear him from your side."
"I—"
"He fell in love with her because she is the palest shade of you he could find! She is your opposite in every possible way; she was an escape from the life he'd never have with you. I think he literally sustained himself on your and Gen's dissimilitude. But now that you're back and the two of you are side by side—" he shook his head in disgust. "He is finally remembering why he loved you. How much he loved you. Now that you're back I think he can barely stand to be around her. He told me that when they have sex he has to pretend she's you or he can't finish."
"He cast me aside in Atlanta!" she wailed. "And she's still here! If he loves me, why can't he accept me?"
He bit his lip, tears welling in his eyes.
"Because of me," he whispered quietly.
"What?" she asked, wiping her tears.
He grit his teeth then looked at her.
"When you got back— well obviously Gin and I were thrilled. But from our perspective, your timing couldn't have been crueler. Draco had also just moved on! He was happy, almost as happy as he'd been with you, and now you were going to come back and trample all that. Draco would have been back to square one."
Leolin scrunched her nose and looked down at her designer shoes, unable to stop two more tears from skidding down her cheeks despite her best efforts.
"Look," Blaise said, pleading. "Lucius set you up so well. He'd convinced Draco that he'd had no hand in it and that he'd always said you weren't to be trusted. He stole hundred of thousands of galleons out of you and Draco's account to make it look like you'd been planning to leave. It didn't work at first, but eventually he was able to manipulate Draco back under his insidious control.
Then there was the photo. We'd all seen it, and we'd all agreed it was definitely you. No one could figure out how or why, but it really seemed like you were already moving on.
So Ginny and I—we agreed that we wouldn't intercede on your behalf. We'd do opposite, actually. We would run interference on you; box you out until you either gave up or they said 'I do'. Whichever came first."
"How could you do that to me?" She demanded in pain. "You two know better than anyone that Draco and I are meant for each other!"
"We did it because we love him, and neither of us wanted to see him hurt again! You weren't in that hotel room in Riga," he choked. "You hadn't seen Draco half-dead from his love for you. I couldn't do that to him again! I couldn't let you do that to him again!" Blaise bit out defensively.
"So that's why this has been so hard," she said in a bland voice. "The two of you have been undermining me this whole time."
"Yes," he admitted. "Two days after we got to Charleston, Draco came to me and said he thought he might still be in love with you and asked me what I thought he should do. He said mine was the only opinion he could trust, including his own."
Blaise looked down, and Leolin thought that perhaps he was also fighting the urge to cry. "I told him to forget you," he said in a tight voice, giving a manly sniff to avoid any actual tears. "I told him that he deserved better. I told him to marry Gen and love her and let the rest go. He came to me again in Atlanta and I—I told him the same thing. I told him if you refused to tell the truth then he had to leave you behind."
Leolin bent her head and began to cry again, her sobs paining Blaise.
"Leolin," he said, wounded. His voice was the very symphony of anguish. "How can I ever begin to tell you how sorry I am? I had no idea this was going on. If I had—" He said, running a hand over his closely cropped hair. "If I had known then I never would have done what I did. You have to believe that."
"I do," Leolin said, still sobbing. "But it's too late. You've only hardened Draco's resolve. He hates me now as much as he loves me, and he's going to marry that vile bitch out of spite."
"Then go to him—tell him the truth."
"I can't!" she cried. "He's under the gag."
"So let me go for you," he said, but she was already tossing her head back and forth.
"You can't! No one can. That's how the gag works: it twists Draco's reality until he can't see the truth. Don't you think he would have read between the lines by now if it didn't?"
"Then we'll help you break the binding," Blaise said. "Severina and Ginny and I."
"No," Leolin said emphatically. "Not Ginny."
"Leolin, please," Blaise pleaded. "Being in the dark is eating her up inside. Let her in."
"I can't," Leolin sobbed. "I can't go through the whole thing again!"
"Please, Leolin, please!" He said shaking her until she looked up at him. She did, and when she saw he fierce love burning in his eyes, the dam broke.
She said nothing, only collapsed against his chest as she continued to cry. She bawled his shirt in her tiny fist as her tears soaked the spot she'd laid her head. He stroked her hair gently as he shushed her soothingly, kissing her temple as she took heaving sobs, her face blotchy and her eyes swollen. Despite the fact that she was sure she'd never looked uglier, she also knew it that moment how much Blaise loved her, and she knew she had to trust him the way she always had in the past.
"Don't make me tell it again."
He touched her cheek soothingly, brushing a tear off with the pad of his thumb. "You don't have to. I have a pensieve at the flat. Can you agree to that?"
Leolin nodded, and Blaise apparated them home at once.
"Ginny?" Blaise called urgently as Leolin collapsed into a sobbing heap on the floor. "Ginny I need you!"
Ginny appeared several seconds later, taking in Leolin on the floor and Blaise tearing through drawers, looking for the pensieve.
Ginny knelt at Leolin's side at once.
"Leolin," she breathed before looking up at Blaise. "What the fuck is going on?"
Blaise found the disc and threw it into the air, watching as it assumed some depth. He knelt next to Leolin, and she allowed him to pulled the tears off her face.
He didn't reply, just grabbed Ginny by the arm and all but shoved her into the bowl.
She was gone several minutes, but when she finally emerged, her face was a mess.
"Leolin," she sobbed, dragging her up to hug her. "Forgive me. Please, forgive me. I should have known; should have trusted you. How can you ever forgive me?"
Leolin said nothing still sobbing as she clung to Ginny. She smoothed Leolin's hair as they cried in each other's arms.
"I'm sorry," Leolin breathed at last, her tears completely purged. "I should have told you. I shouldn't have pushed you away."
Ginny grabbed her cheeks and kissed her on the lips.
"It doesn't matter. I'm here now."
Leolin nodded, resting her head on Ginny's shoulder. She never wanted to let her go again.
"Yes," she breathed softly, a warmth blooming in her chest she hadn't felt since the wedding. "You're here now."