I Know You Know Who I Am

by TheSecretAdmirer

2nd of Eden Trilogy/Sequel to Enemy of My Enemy. 5 years later, Leolin returns to find everything has changed and Draco is engaged to another woman. She struggles to win back his love & trust while facing the demons of her past. As darkness begins to fall, she realises she might have to choose between the man she loves and rescuing the world from a familiar evil...COMPLETE! RE-READ

24. Chapter 23: Onward and Upward

3,000 WORDS ADDED. PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! Also, I will edit tomorrow. Too tired to do it right now but wanted to get this puppy out the door. PLEASE KEEP REVIEWING, THAT'S HOW YOU GET TIMELY UPDATES :D

Chapter Twenty-Three: Onward and Upward

"Come se va, ma belle?" Severina asked, traipsing into the pluvium where Leolin sat brooding.

It was a beautiful day in Naples, and the autumn sunlight glinted softly off the water of the swallow pool in the centre of the enclosed space. Leolin and the twins had just accomplished a heist at the Louvre, a feat that marked Leolin's first triumph against the gag. She still couldn't enter the UK, but France was now open to her, and as an art thief, that was very handy. She hadn't quite mustered up the courage to go back to the Louvre, but she'd sent the twins after Jacque Louis David's masterpiece The Oath of the Horatti , and they returned to Rome with it without a hitch. Now, after nearly a month of misleading Crofton Teller, Leolin had finally sent him spinning off in the opposite direction. He headed to Sweden even as the new owner was hanging the painting in Turkey.

She had told Teller she was chasing down a lead in Naples, and she, Severina, Xavy, and the girls had stolen away to a palazzo Xavier's family owned just outside Naples. It was lovely there.

"I'm bloody frustrated," Leolin replied in answer to Severina' query. "This fucking gag is so—Damnit!"

"Here," Sev said soothingly, urging a tottering Isadora towards where Leolin sat in the grass. "Take this."

Isa was almost two now, but she still looked like a baby. Her legs are arms were covered in adorable rolls of fat, and she still had three little teeth. Her wispy black hair was tied back in two pigtails, and she had a pumpkin juice tucked under her chubby arm.

Sev had been right; Isa already looked remarkably like Xavier. She had his elegantly flat Spanish nose and slightly turned-down lips, and unlike Severina, whose eyes were dark, Isa's were spring green.

"¿Quién es esa?" Sev said to Isa.

Isa babbled incoherently to herself before saying. "Lai-Nay. Lai-Nay."

She'd finally reached Leolin, and she all but fell into Leolin's arms.

"We're working on it," Severina laughed as Isa muttered, 'Lai-Nay, zumo,'

gesturing to her cup of juice. "Swish and Eff calling you Nay is really confusing her."

"I like Lai-Nay," Leolin told the baby, kissing her on the face and making Isa laugh. "It's endearing."

"And Spanish?" Leolin asked. "Didn't you start Angie with Italian?"

Severina gave a delightfully delicate laugh.

"The constant battle between Xavy and I," Sev admitted. "I lobbied very hard for Angie and italiano. After all, we have been living here in Italy since Rodrigo Borgia was still a cardinal. Xavy's still a Borja at heart. He grew up in Valencia speaking Spanish the way I did Italian. We started Angie with English and Spanish when she was four, and she picked it up amazingly quick. We'll do the same with Isa."

"French?"

"We pepper it in," Sev laughed. "I didn't learn it until I was ten or eleven, and I speak it perfectly now."

"You're family is so picture-perfect," Leolin smiled as Isa ran grubby hands down Leolin's sleek black hair.

"Isadora, por favor, no lo toques su pelo. Tus manos están sucios."

Isa pouted but didn't stop.

"It's okay," Leolin said. "I need to shower before the party tonight anyways. Speaking of which, are you finally going to tell me why we're throwing one? We said we wouldn't start shopping for our next client until after my birthday."

"We did," Severina agreed. "And we won't. Still, I'm Severina Borgia, most beloved daughter of Italy. Why shouldn't I throw a party?"

Leolin laughed but didn't argue. She locked her floo and handed in to Isa, who was instantly engrossed.

"So," Sev said. "What's going on with the gag?"

"France is as far as I've gotten, and that's so bloody annoying because that is the least relevant part to me. Seriously, anything would be better! Dublin, Wales, anything!"

"Is that what you're working on now?" Sev asked, pushing Leolin's gleaming floo away from Isa's slobbery mouth.

"Yeah," Leolin said. "The gag seemed to be designed as a series of chambers. I can enter one before I've gone through another. France was the outermost ring. Then it's the UK, then it's the Hogwarts binding, then—finally—its seeing Draco."

"What happens if you go back once you've freed your friends and worked on Draco from there?"

Leolin shook her head.

"They'd all be able to recognise me and he wouldn't. It would drive him mad. Besides, there's no point in joining back until I can tell him the truth. Otherwise he'll never listen to me."

Severina shrugged.

"Good point."

"The only shred of good news is now that I've picked one lock I sort of know what I'm doing. The others ones should be easier. At least the UK one. I have no idea what the people ones are going to be like."

"Just keep your head down and keep working. I say we slow La Genie for now so you have more time for this and don't have to contract for Teller."

"Right," Leolin said, laying her head on Isa's. "Okay."

"I predict you'll be home by your twenty-fifth birthday."

"Here's hoping," Leolin said. "If not, I think I could bear living here forever."

Isa had slid down, exhausted, and she was quietly snoozing in Leolin's lap. Leolin stroked her soft curls.

"What are you wearing tonight?" Severina asked.

Leolin shrugged.

"Probably that high-low white dress I bought in Paris. What about you?"

"I haven't decided," Severina said. "You know I like to see what the mood inspires."

Leolin laughed.

"Of course. I'm glad we're back to the party. I have to confess something. I know its not just one of your typical 'I'm Severina Borgia, come see how important I am' parties."

"How?" Severina asked, smiling coyly.

"I was the one that signed for the fireworks today, and I've seen that behemoth of a cake."

Severina laughed.

"Perhaps I'm simple upping the ante."

"No," Leolin said, smoothing Isa's hair as she lay on her back. "Don't give me that bollocks."

Severina only laughed.

"I think I know," Leolin said, smiling.

"Do you?" Severina said, dark eyes merry.

"Isn't your anniversary in September? You've been married seven years now. Are you and Xav renewing your vows?"

Severina gave a delicate laugh.

"No," she said excitedly. "But do you think it's too late to do that?"

She looked genuinely interested.

"It's only one," Leolin said. "I'm sure you can pull it together. Ooh, you should surprise Xavy with it! I'll help you."

"This is so exciting," Sev blurted. "I need to dig out a white dress."

"I'll scrap mine," Leolin agreed eagerly before realising something. "Wait, so that wasn't your secret?"

"Well, it is now."

"Yeah," Leolin said slowly, making soft circles on Isa's rounded belly. "But what's your other secret?"

Severina beamed, drawing a picture out of her pocket. It was a sonogram.

Leolin covered her mouth as tears of joy welled up.

"Oh my gods," she said, looking happily at Sev. "How far along?

"16 weeks," Sev said happily. "I can't believe you haven't noticed how fat I've gotten."

"I've barely seen you," Leolin laughed. "And you're one of those annoying slags who only gains in her belly!"

Severina lifted her blouse in response, showing Leolin the soft rounding of her form.

"Oh my gods," Leolin choked, touching it. "Another baby."

Severina smiled, touching her friend's cheek.

"A balm to cure the ache of you going back to England at last."

---

Blaise sat on the edge of the bed, his brow creased with worry. It was still barely light out, but he'd just returned from a run with Draco, and it had been troubling. He should have known when he'd gotten Draco's floo that something was wrong; Draco was by no means an early riser. Still, he'd hoped it was simply more about Leolin, providing Blaise the opportunity to start setting his mistakes right. Unfortunately, it had been just the opposite.

"Gin," he said softly, shaking her creamy bare shoulder. "We have a problem."

"Yeah, we do," she muttered against her pillow. "It's six am and you're trying to talk to me."

Blaise pursed his lips. It some ways, it would make more sense if Ginny were to marry Draco; they had the same adolescent sleep schedule.

"Gin," he repeated. "Seriously, get up. We need to talk."

"No," she said petulantly, still half-asleep. "please go away."

"Ginevra," he said as if she were a child. "Don't make me count to three."

She gave a defeated half-laugh as he began to count.

"One—"

"Gods, is this how you're going to be when we have kids?"

"Two—"

"Stop counting, Z. I'm not getting up."

"Three—"

Despite her protestations, she sat up. Her red hair was a wild but perfect mane as it flowed over her shoulders and down her back. Merlin, she was beautiful.

"Alright—" he began, but she held up a hand.

"If you expect me to listen, I need a coffee and a really good snog first, preferably in that order."

He nodded, running a hand down her silk curls with affection.

"I'll be right back," he said.

He returned two minutes later with a cappuccino. She'd put on a pair of soft pajamas and wrestled her hair into a long braid, and she sat in the middle of the bed cross-legged as she waited for him. He handed her the coffee and she took a large sip before setting it down on the nightstand.

"Kiss?" she said, and he smiled, crawling onto the bed next to her and pushing her on her back so he could do it properly.

"Good morning," he said at last, pulling away and running the pad of his thumb affectionately back and forth across her bottom lip.

"It is now," she replied, kissing him again. "Alright, you have my full attention; what's going on?"

Blaise frowned before sighing heavily.

"It's Draco," he said softly, flopping down next to her on his back.

She curled beside him, running a hand soothingly along his naked chest.

"Sometimes I feel like that's my least favourite phrase in the English language," she said.

"Mine too," he admitted.

"What happened?" she asked.

Blaise shook his head.

"I should have known it was bad when he wanted to go for a run at five a.m."

"What did he say?"

Blaise shook his head again, soothed by the feeling of her pressed against him.

"He wants to get married at the end of October"'

"To who?" Ginny demanded, sitting up. "To Gen?"

Blaise sat up as well.

"He wouldn't stop talking about it," he said, visibly distressed. "He said he'd finally gotten some clarity on the whole Leolin thing, and he knows now that he made the right decision choosing Gen, and he can't wait to marry her."

Ginny shook her head in disbelief.

"Something must have happened after I left him last night," she said.

"Could it be that you misread him? Maybe he wasn't in the headspace you thought he was."

"No," Ginny said distractedly, her voice distant as she synched her eyebrows together. "No, he was—watching her, he—he asked how she was, took the necklace—"

She looked back at him, and he gave a reassuring nod.

"Well then maybe something happened between them. Have you talked to Leolin?"

"Not since yesterday," she admitted.

"Maybe they had a fight," Blaise said. "You should go see her."

Ginny shook her head in frustration.

"Merlin, sometimes I could just kill him," Ginny said sadly. "He's willfully ruining his own happiness."

Blaise smoothed her hair back and kissed her jaw.

"You're only saying that because you know the truth. He doesn't; try to be patient with him."

She turned her gaze on him, eyes intense as she brought a hand to his satiny cheek. Her brows furrowed slightly.

"What?" he said at last. "What is it?"

"Thank Merlin for you," she breathed. "I love you. More than I could possibly say."

He gave a soft smile.

"I never dreamed I'd ever hear you say that," he admitted in a quiet voice, eyes dancing across her face. "I thought I was just destined to love you in vain."

"I regret every second I wasted not being with you," Ginny said.

"You honour me," he breathed.

They kissed again, this time more slowly. Ginny reached up to touch his cheek, the milky tone of her skin a crisp contrast to the caramel of his.

"All this bollocks with Leolin and Draco makes me realise how lucky I am to just—have you," she said. "I watch Leolin struggle and I think, if that were me and I were separated from you like that, I couldn't take it."

"I know," he said. "It's agony. Leolin doesn't deserve this."

"Neither of them do," Ginny said, resting her forehead on his clavicle.

"We'll set them right," Blaise promised, cradling her head gently. "Then it'll finally be the four of us together, just like it always ought to have been."

There was a long pause during which they both seemed to be daydreaming.

"Promise me you'll never die," Ginny said abruptly at last.

He gave a wry smile.

"I have to die sometime, my love. I'm not Nicholas Flamel."

She laughed unexpectedly.

"I know," she said. "But I mean—don't you dare die in this war. I could never ever live without you."

"You have to make the same promise," he said solemnly.

She nodded.

"I promise."

He leaned forward to kiss her again, and the matter seemed suitably closed. Neither wanted to dwell on the ugly possibly.

"We probably ought to start talking about our own wedding," Blaise said at last. "Something tells me we aren't going to time for a fancy do like we planned."

"You're probably right," Ginny said somewhat glumly. "You're mum is going to be so put out."

"We ought to just tell her it's the Dark Lord's fault we can have a big wedding," he said. "She'd probably just kill him and save us loads of trouble."

"We could have something small," Ginny said. "My brother Bill married Fleur in the middle of the war, and we had a spiffing time."

"I could shrink to the size of a button and marry you in a matchbox," Blaise said. "I really don't care."

Ginny laughed.

"That certainly would be memorable."

He laughed, too.

"I'll look into it," he said, twining her hand with his. "What about your name?"

She watched his hand moving against hers with interest.

"What about it?"

"Are you—" he seemed suddenly nervous. "Are you planning on changing it? You don't have to, I know that's sort of outdated these days, I just—thought I'd ask."

She considered.

"I think Ginevra Zabini sounds awfully charming," she said. "Don't you?"

"Charming? It's sexy," Blaise said, kissing her more zealously.

"I want people to know we're a family," she said, sobering up a little. "And I like your last name. It's exotic."

He smiled, touching her cheek.

"It suits you," he said.

She smiled.

"Ginevra Zabini it is," she said, and he nodded, smiling as well.

"I'm going to get make some breakfast. You should go check on Leolin. We need to know what we're up against this morning."

Ginny nodded, scooting off the bed.

"One last thing," she said. "Please try to keep Draco away from Kelly from now on. That's really not helping anything."

"I would say the same thing to you about Leolin and Kelly," Blaise said, shrugging into a Slytherin t-shirt. "Honestly, do marriage vows mean anything anymore?"

"It's not that," Ginny said. "Look, I love Draco, but he's a proper bully when it comes to Kelly, and I know it really distresses Leolin."

"Troy's not exactly been a saint himself lately."

"What?" Ginny said. "So only Draco's justified in being horrible?"

"Troy's married; he ought to keep his hands to himself and stop looking at Leolin like she's dessert."

"Kelly loves his wife and he would never cheat on her," Ginny said firmly. "That's not the issue here."

"I don't trust him when it comes to Leolin," Blaise bit out fiercely.

She put her hands on her hips.

"Is this because I said I thought she could love Kelly? Look, I didn't mean he was a challenger for her affection; I just know that if Draco weren't around, Kelly could make Leolin happy."

"Kelly Troy is incapable of making her happy," Blaise spit derisively. "He's self-righteous and vanilla and boring; he'd be hard-pressed to make beige paint happy."

"Why are we discussing this?" Ginny asked, seemingly a little miffed by his harsh assessment of Kelly. "It's a non-issue. I just don't want Draco to get on his cruel jealous high-horse and punish Leolin for something she would never even do, so please, just reign him in."

"Fine," Blaise said. "I'll do my best."

"I love you," Ginny said. "But I'm going to need better than 'your best'. I need your solemn promise that you're going to muzzle him."

"Fine," Blaise said, rolling his eyes. "I will keep Draco from spitting the truth about Troy, which is that he's poncy and annoying and unrequitedly in love with Leolin."

"Blaise!" Ginny snapped. "This is serious and so am I. First of all, Kelly is gearing up to do something big for us and you and Drake should both be grateful. Second of all, can't you see this is hurting Leolin? You are encouraging Draco to be horrid to Kelly, and every time he does he ends up taking it out on her as well. Yes, Leolin loved Kelly, but that was a hundred million years ago. Get over it! She certainly has, and so has he."

"Has he?" Blaise said.

"Godric's beard," Ginny growled, getting up. "That's enough."

"Gin," Blaise said, realising he'd gone too far.

"No," she snapped. "You are Draco are being right foul bullies about this whole thing, and if I'm being honest, it makes me want to punch you both in the face."

"That seems a bit harsh, darling," Blaise pointed out.

"So help me god, Blaise Zabini, if you do one more thing to fan the flames between Kelly and Draco, I will not marry you."

At this he sat up, years of fear bubbling up.

"Ginevra—"

"I just don't understand how after everything that happened yesterday you can be such an ungrateful toerag!" Ginny sneered.

"I'm not!" Blaise said. "Please stop putting words in my mouth! Look, I'm sorry for what I said about Troy. You're right; that was unkind. As for Draco, I promise to reign him in, for Leolin's sake if for nothing else."

Ginny nodded, allowing him to stand and fold her in his arms.

"Do you forgive me?" he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Fine," she said begrudgingly. "But only because you're ungodly handsome and I like your penis."

"Vulgar!" Blaise laughed, pulling her tighter against him.

"I'm going to go find Draco and talk some sense into him," he said, kissing her gently. "I will be back in a bit."

"Talk to him about Kelly," Ginny urged. "I'm serious."

Blair grimaced.

"Not sure that's such a good idea after yesterday. That whole cruciatus thing really fucked him up."

"Well if it comes up, then," Ginny ceded. "I'm going to go try and find Leolin."

He nodded.

"Go team," he said, and she smiled, bending to kiss him a final time.

"Go team."

---

Leolin woke around eleven feeling shittiest than she swore she'd ever felt. She stayed up half the night crying, first about Felix then Kelly then Draco then Adrian then Draco again. When she had finally fallen asleep, she had a dream where she had sex with Isobel Lorde, and she woke up and started crying all over again. She was once again desperate to go to Draco, fantasizing about slipping into his warm bed and falling asleep in his arms. However, she knew how raw the Cruciatus business had rubbed him, and she didn't want to make it worse by pushing.

Her stomach grumbled and she stood up, wanting breakfast. Or, more realistically, she wanted a drink. She traipsed down to the kitchen in no immediate hurry, and she was pleased to find Blaise and Ginny there when she arrived. After everything with Isobel and Felix and without Severina, she was grateful not to be alone, though she already knew she'd be poor company at best. Ginny was sitting on the counter, offering directions to Blaise as he attempted to crack eggs into a bowl.

"No!" Ginny laughed merrily. "Not like that! You're going to get shell in there!"

"Oh who cares?" Blaise laughed, flicking a pinch of flour at her.

"I care," she said, still laughing. "That's gross!"

"Morning," Leolin said, coming to sit next to Ginny on the work table. "What are we up to?"

"I'm trying to teach this clot to make banana bread," Ginny said, sobering up a little at Leolin's expression. "How are you this morning?"

"Fine," Leolin said. She gave the best smile she could, though it was admittedly weak.

"Are you really?" Ginny pressed gently. "I know yesterday was totally mental."

Leolin shook her head as if she was trying to clear it. "Lorde showing up here really threw me," Leolin admitted. "She just—ugh! She doesn't even care, does she?"

"I know," Ginny agreed. "She's hideous. At least you never have to see her again."

Leolin thought of Isobel lying naked on Felix's bed and her stomach turned.

"Thank Merlin for that," Leolin said softly.

Blaise was busy whisking the eggs, and Ginny looked up momentarily from Leolin to give him further instructions.

"Z, add the vanilla."

"Is it just Lorde that's bothering you?" Ginny probed gently. "I'm sorry about the whole Kelly thing. I know that couldn't have been easy for you."

"I don't know what was worse," Leolin admitted. "Watching Kelly suffer or watching Draco. It was killing them both. Besides, all that backbiting doesn't help."

Ginny looked sternly at Blaise, who nodded.

"Are you worried about him? Troy?"

"Yes," Leolin said. "Of course. I know Adrian. This could go sideways somehow, and he could flip out and kill Kelly without a second thought. The problem is that the more I care about Kelly, the more Draco resents me."

"Did something happen with you and Draco last night?" Blaise blurted. "Did he catch you and Troy together, or something?"

"Blaise!" Ginny cried, punching him in the arm. "Merlin!"

"Excuse me?" Leolin demanded quietly.

"I saw Drake this morning and he was—I thought maybe you two had a row about the whole Troy thing."

Leolin stood, hurt tears burning in her eyes last night.

"Why is everything with Draco always my fault?" she demanded. "And to answer your question, no, Draco did not 'catch' me with Kelly last night because I wasn't with Kelly. As for Draco, I haven't even seen him or spoken to him since yesterday. Sorry to disappoint you."

"You're not!" Ginny said, trying to redeem Blaise's fuckery. "Lai—"

"I have to go," Leolin said. "After yesterday, I just don't have to strength to do this right now."

"Lai, I didn't mean to upset you," Blaise said. "I just—"

"Would you want Grace to go?" Leolin said quietly. "I know you loved her once upon a time. Would you want to see her give herself up to be beaten and tortured?" She turned to Ginny. "Would you want Harry to? Merlin, Blaise, this isn't about me and Kelly. This is about me and Adrian. I—" she paused, thinking about Isobel's sneering face and the sting of Adrian's hand across her cheek. "Never mind. I have to go."

"I'm sorry," Blaise breathed. "I'm trying to help, I swear."

"Could have fooled me," Leolin said quietly.

"We're not blaming you or accusing you of anything," Ginny said. "It's just that Drake told us this morning that—"

"Don't," Leolin said. "I don't want to hear it. Please."

"Yes, you do," Ginny said seriously. "Lai, he—"

"Gin, please!" Leolin pleaded. "This is all so fucked up, and I can't talk about it any more. I just—I'm going to go work on the painting or something. I need to clear my head a bit.

"Leolin," Ginny said seriously. "Wait, please! Draco came to our room this morning saying—"

"Does it matter, at this point?" Leolin said. "If he's going to be mad or whatever, let him. Clearly there's nothing I can do to persuade him to be otherwise."

"You don't mean that," Ginny said softly. "I know you don't."

"I have to go," Leolin repeated. "And I think your bread is burning."

---

Tucking her books and pictures under her arm, Leolin headed to the library, splaying everything out and surveying them. She picked up the picture Narcissa had given her of the painting, scrutinising it for the millionth time. By now she was extremely familiar with it, and she found the glinting eyes at once. Now that she'd placed them, she couldn't believe she hadn't recognised them as Charon's before. What was he doing back there, hiding in the shadows? More importantly, how could she convince him to come out and share his secret?

She heard the door open and she looked up to see Kelly striding in. Seeing him churned a pile of smouldering guilt in her stomach. He looked pale and drawn. She thought of what Blaise had said and she bowed her head.

"Hey," Kelly said quietly. "Good morning."

"Hi," she replied. "how are you?"

"Truthfully?"

"Of course."

"Terrible," he admitted, rubbing his eyes. "I was up half the night on the floo with Cara. She's furious with me. She told me not to come home tonight. I'm staying with Oliver and Angelina instead."

"I'm sorry," she said. "I feel awful about that."

He touched her chin and prompted her to look at him. When she did, he touched her cheek affectionately. She pressed a palm to his hand, cradling it there."

"Lai," he said seriously. "Listen to me. I know no one believes I can do this, but I'm telling you I can."

"I don't doubt that," she said. "But you could legitimately die."

He dropped his hand.

"That's a risk we have to take."

"No," she said. "It isn't. Lorde was right, KT. I should go."

"What?" he demanded. "Are you fucking insane? No!"

"It's preferable to letting Adrian torture you! He won't be kind; he's going to shred you to bits."

"So be it," Kelly said in a stony voice. "I would rather be tortured into insanity than let him lay a hand on you. I'm serious."

"He already has done," she admitted. "And I'm still here. I can handle it. I'm tougher than I look."

"It's not about that!" Kelly snapped. "What he wants from you is barbaric and sick. It would break my heart to watch you go through that, and I know it would break Malfoy's, too."

"And what about Cara's heart?"

"Leolin!" he grit out in frustration, standing and running two hands through his hair.

"This is going to destroy her, Kel!"

Kelly rounded on her, looking almost angry.

"And you think she'd prefer to give you up to be owned like a slave by that sick bastard? Wow, you must really think low of her!"

"Don't twist my words," she demanded.

"Then listen to yourself, Lai! I thought you said bravery and self sacrifice was for us Gryffindors; now you're saying you want to throw yourself on the sword like some kind of martyr? Merlin, what is wrong with you?"

"I'm not being a martyr!" she snapped. "I'm trying to help! Isobel was right; this is partially my fault. I have to atone."

"Atone?" he repeated almost contemptuously. "Atone for what, exactly? Being a bratty teenager? Leolin," he said, sighing and amending his harsh tone. "If that were a thing, Potter would still be stretching Malfoy on the rack right now."

She laughed unexpectedly.

"Seriously," he said. "No one blames you for Pucey, I don't care what Lorde said. But you also have to grow up and see this for what it is. We can't afford melodramatic gestures of bravery. It makes zero tactical sense for you to go in there, and I know deep down you know that. Pucey would never let you come back once you went in, and we'd be no better off than we are now. In fact, we're be infinitely worse off. You're probably the only one that can sort out this mess with the coins and the keeper and whatever else, and we need you, but we need you here. Stop buying into Pucey's bullshit obsessive power-hungry guilt trip and just help us."

She nodded, and he touched her cheek again, eyes and voice softer now.

"And stop worrying about me. I'm also tougher than I look. Besides, as Malfoy will be happy to point out, everyone thinks I'm weak. Pucey does, and if he doesn't, I'm sure Tate Rawle will be quick to tell him. Also, not to brag, but I'm an amazing occlumens. I bet you I'm even better than Malfoy, and feel free to tell him that. I know this is a nasty business, but I can do this. I promise."

"Okay," she said, exhaling a deep breath.

"Okay?" he prompted, smiling a little and trying to catch her downcast gaze

"Okay," she repeated with more conviction, return his smile with a small one of her own.

"And don't worry about Cara. I love her, and I know she knows that. She's come round eventually."

"Good," she said seriously. "I don't want you to have to go through any of this alone."

He smiled.

"Thank you. Now, one last thing."

"What's that?" she said.

"Promise me you won't give up on Malfoy."

"What?" she said, incredulous.

"Look," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I obviously have no idea what you see in him because I think he's fucking awful, but I can tell you still really love him, so promise me you won't give up on him."

"Kelly—"

"No," he said more firmly. "Don't get all self sacrificial again. We both know that you want him back, so stop feeling sorry for yourself and just do it."

"I'm not feeling sorry for myself!" Leolin said, laughing softly. It felt good to laugh. He gave her a knowing look and she laughed again. "It's not as easy as all that," Leolin said, thinking about what Ginny had being trying to tell her about Draco. "I have sodding Genevieve to worry about."

"You're joking, right?" Kelly said, smiling and nudging her shoulder playfully. "Please. She's no match for the great and powerful Leolin Lefevre."

Leolin gave a weak smile.

"Look, I'm a bloke so it's probably poncy and lame that I believe in soulmates, but I do, and if there is one thing I know, it's that you are Malfoy's. I have no idea why you left him beyond knowing that you obviously had a very good reason, but you need to forgive yourself for that as well and let yourself be happy. You of all people deserves it."

"It's just gotten so complicated," she admitted.

He shrugged.

"So un-complicate it. All jokes aside Lai, when Pucey finally comes after you—and I have a bad feeling will—you're going to want Draco by your side, so do both of you a favour and force him to get over himself and admit how madly in love with you he still is. Honestly, the whole group will probably be better off for it, if for no other reason than Genevieve is horrid and I hate listening to her talk."

"Alright," she admitted, feeling somehow renewed. "I promise."

"That's a good lass," he said, smiling at her. "Now, tell me what's going on with this monstrosity." He meant the painting. "Maybe I can help. Doubtful, but you never know."

She'd projected the painting on the wall again and they were both surveying it.

"This is the painting Marcus Flint store the day they kidnapped Draco's stepfather," she explained. "And I think that," she said, pointing to the figure lurking in the background. "Might be Charon."

"Bones's teacher?" Kelly asked, leaning in.

"Yeah."

He made a face.

"That's dead creepy," he said.

"I know," she said.

"Not being funny, but it seriously creeps me out that the figures aren't moving."

"What' really freaky is that it's not a Muggle painting," Leolin said. "It's not static. It's just—the figures are completely immobile, but sometimes I swear I can see them breathing. Also listen. Can you hear that? That rushing water? It's coming from inside the painting."

Kelly leaned in then jerked back.

"I don't like that," he said. "That's seriously sinister."

"I know," she said. "I just—I don't understand what I'm supposed to do. I think its a guardian of some sort, but I can't figure out how it works."

"So you think that this painting is a guardian?" Kelly surmised. "And what? Draco's step-da is the secret keeper?"

"Exactly," Leolin said. "But Adrian had this painting for weeks before we stole it and replaced it with the fake. If it was as simple as all that, they would have sorted it out already. At the very least, they couldn't figure out a way to get Sebestan to tell them how to get the coins out."

"It's odd," Kelly admitted. "My cousin Shayna works on things like this. Hidden objects and stuff."

"Any helpful insights?" Leolin said.

"Not sure," Kelly said, surveying the painting again. "What's going on in this front bit. That might help."

"This is Hypnos and Thanatos Carrying Away the Slain Sarpedon."

"Translation?" Kelly asked.

"It's a Greek myth about this hero Sarpedon from the Trojan war. He fought with such bravery that the gods actually send Sleep and Death to bear him hence."

"So what does it have to do with anything?"

"That's the problem," Leolin said, annoyed. "It doesn't seem to relate to anything. Sarpedon is a story of death's triumph, and he had no connection to either Charon or rising from the dead. And there are details that don't add up. Narcissa seemed to think that the painting was of a man on a platform. This is nothing like that. How could she mistake the three figures with one? I mean, if the figures every moved around, it might make sense. But they don't. They just—"

Kelly nodded.

"Creepy."

"So any brilliant ideas?" Leolin prompted. "Or rubbish ideas. At this point, I'll take anything."

Kelly contemplated for several minutes, narrowing his eyes and scrutinising.

"Maybe one, " he said at last.

"Shayna used to work in Eastern Europe on all kinds of Slavic stuff, and she saw stuff like this before. I can't believe I didn't remember her talking about it. In the presence of their secret-keepers, objects can transform to reveal the truth. Sort of like what Dumbledore did with the philosopher's stone and the mirror."

Suddenly Leolin was struck, almost as if by lightning.

"Oh my gods," she said, standing and covering her mouth with her hands as she stared at the painting.

It all seemed to make sense now.

"Oh my gods," she repeated. "Oh my fucking gods."

"What?" Kelly demanded. "What is it? Did you realise something?" he asked, bewildered.

"Oh my gods," she repeated stupidly, ignoring his query. "I need to find Draco. Immediately."

"Wait," Kelly cried, exasperated. "What the bloody hell just happened?"

Leolin looked at the face of her watch. Bollocks, it was two fucking thirty. She'd be lucky to catch him.

"Thanks, Kel!" she cried, gathering all her things hastily. "As per, you're my hero."

"Don't forget to tell Malfoy you love him!" he called after her. "You promised me!"

She was already out the door and up the stairs. She had haphazardly thrown all her things into her bag before tearing to Ginny's room.

She had Blaise were lying side-by-side on the bed, having a whisper conversation. Ginny's shirt was pulled up, and Blaise was drawing lazy circles on her pale stomach

"Gin!" Leolin said, breahtless from her jaunt. "Has either of you seen Draco?"

Ginny shook her head.

"He and Gen left about an hour ago,. But Lai, I need to give you a heads up! He—"

"Not now," Leolin said hurriedly. "Who has the last key out? Do you know?"

"Chaisson, I think," Blaise replied.

"Ugh," Leolin groaned caustically. "Of course. Do you have any idea when it leaves?"

Blaise consulted his handsome watch.

"Ten minutes, maybe? Could be less."

"Right," Leolin said. "Thanks."

She started off.

"Wait!" Blaise cried as she darted away. "What's going on?"

"Back garden," Ginny supplied, knowing they weren't going to get any answers.

"Cheers!"

Leolin rushed out, slamming into a disgruntled Reagan Sharpe in the main foyer.

"Pardon you," she snapped at Leolin.

"Have you see Chaisson?" Leolin replied. "Do you know if his key's left yet?"

"Considering he was trying to get into my knickers ten minutes ago," Reagan said dryly. "I would say not."

"Ugh," Leolin said. "What a pig."

"You said it," Reagan agreed. "I'm pretty sure he slept with that horrible slag Lorde last night."

"He did," Leolin affirmed sourly. "So I would keep my distance if I were you."

Reagan wrinkled her nose, flicking her now-lilac hair over her shoulder.

"As if I needed another reason to. Sleeping with one vain prick is more that enough for me."

"I'm sure," Leolin agreed.

It was an unsavoury topic, but Leolin was fairly sure she and Reagan were bonding at last.

"Right," Leolin said. "I'm off. Thanks for you help.

"Good luck with Chaisson," Regan said in salutation.

"Same with Quinn," Leolin replied, waving as she trotted off.

She found Felix in the back garden, just as Ginny'd predicted, and he turned at her approach, looking relieved.

"Leolin—" he began penitently, but she held up a hand to silence him.

"Save it," she said icily. "I didn't come to reconcile. "Are you headed to London?"

He nodded.

"Bethnall Green."

"Why?" she'd snapped derisively.

It was a less than glamourous part of town.

"I wanted to drop in on a friend on the way out of town."

She narrowed her eyes.

"A female friend?" she sneered, jamming her hands onto her hips.

He flushed, looking sheepish.

"I—" he cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Don't think I should say."

"Ugh!" she cried. "You pig! Sleeping with Isobel and slavering over Sharpe wasn't enough for you? No, you know what? Whatever, never mind. I couldn't fucking care. And sod your foul social agenda. We're going to Belgravia."

"Why?"

"That's where my flat is."

She drew her wand and pointed it at the manky boot. It glowed for a moment.

"Why—" he began, but she shook her head.

"I said stow it," she snapped. "You're on a 'need to know' basis until further notice."

She flicked open her floo. It smoked for several seconds before a Scottish voice filtered through.

"Nay," the voice said. "What's up?"

"Swish," she said. "Can't you and Eff meet me at my flat in an hour?"

"Course," he said.

"Bring the cannister," she instructed.

"Sure thing," he said. "See you then."

She clicked the sleek lighter shut.

"Ready?" she said tersely to Felix.

"I'm not entirely sure," he admitted.

"I hope you're as good of a curse breaker as you seem to think you are," she sneered. "If you aren't, you're out of the gang."

"Okay," he said nervously. "I'll do my best."

With that they were jerked away.

It was cool and cloudy when they arrived in London, and Leolin shrugged into a handsome trench coat and ingored the mist, grabbing Felix by the collar and dragging him down the stately boulevard.

"Are you old money?" he asked after several minutes, glancing around at the beautifully manicured buildings. "This is a posh part of town.

She gave him a withering look.

"Okay," he said. "Now how was that the wrong thing to say?"

"What makes you assume this is my parents' money?" I'm a big girl; I pay my own bills."

He looked somewhat sheepish.

"Right," he said. "La Genie. Sorry."

They walked in silence for a minute or two, Leolin moving at a surprisingly quick pace for a small woman in stilettos. Finally, she turned to give him a cool look.

"Yes," she said simply, pursing her lips.

"Yes what?"

"Yes," she repeated. "I'm Old Wizarding money on both sides."

"Ah," he said, and she watched le renard tuck his tail between his legs and slink behind poor, friendless Muggleborn Felix Chaisson.

She'd forgotten, in the previous evening's goings on, how much she liked and admired that little boy.

"Hey," she said to get his attention. He looked up. "Money doesn't give a person worth. Adrian's rich. Lucius Malfoy's rich, and they are both hideous people.

He nodded.

"Merci," he said quietly, and she nodded but gave no further reply.

By this time they'd arrived at a stately Muggle pub, and she gave a casual glance over her shoulder before striding inside.

"Hey Richie," she called to the barman, shaking the mist out of her glossy hair. She'd affected her tone so it was overly Welsh now, though no less musical.

"Bronwyn!" he cried jovially. "How was Berlin?"

"Lovely," she said. "Thanks."

"Fancy a pint for you and your fellow? On the house."

She gave his a dazzling smile that Felix had only recieved once.

"Not today, I'm afraid."

He glanced at Felix and she gave a flirtatious wink.

"Go on, then, you cheeky little minx."

She laughed prettily, heading for a back door. Felix scampered after her.

"Just how many aliases do you have?" he blurted appreciatively.

"I can't take any chances," she replied. "I used to rent a Muggle yoga studio, and two weeks ago Adrian showed up in the mirror."

"In the mirror?" he repeated, a bit stupified.

She gave a grim nod.

"It's this creepy thing he does. Not sure how he manages it, but he's devised this way of traveling through them. He will just sauntered through like they're water."

"Freaky," Felix said softly.

"I nearly jumped out of my skin when I looked through the mirror and saw four eyes instead of two."

"Especially with this creepy gold eyes..." Felix said trailing off.

He worried the comment would upset her, but she merely nodded again.

"I think he just does it to show off. I graduated fifth in our class and he graduated eighth. I asssume that's just one more thing he's holding against me. C'mon."

She lead him up a small lifted that eventually opened directly into her penthouse.

"This is living," he said appreciatively, admiring the glass walls and high modernist furniture. He reached forward to gently flick a crystal sculpture on a side table and listening to it sing. She wrapped the back of his hand smartly.

"Don't touch that," she chided. "In fact, don't touch anything."

Without another word, she headed for what he assumed was her bedroom.

"Wait!" he cried. "Can we talk? Please, bichette, five minutes."

"Don't call me that," she ordered. "And I'll give you two."

She sanked onto one of her luxurious chocolate brown leather sofas.

"Fair enough," he said gratefully, easing cautiously down on the sofa opposite sofa.

"Clock's ticking," she said tightly when he didn't say anything.

"Leolin," he began. "I'm sorry about what I said about you and Pucey yesterday. You have to know I don't think that about you."

"Adults," she snapped. "Don't say bollocks like that. "Adults," she continued. "Mean what they say and say what they mean."

He was tempted to pointed out that this was not strictly true, and adults routinely lied about any number of things. However, he suspected that this revelation wasn't likely to win him any points,so he prudently kept his trap shut.

"You're right, of course," he said. "It was impetuous and childish. I regretted it the minute I said it."

"I'm not going to keep doing this with you!" she burst. "This is the third time since I've met you that you've said something hideous then come crawling back like a pup to beg for my forgiveness. The caddishness and frustration in Italy I could understand, I know you were only trying to help and I was being a brat, but the Isobel thing I just can't. I won't."

"I'm sorry," he repeated for the hundredth time. "I admit sleeping with her was ill-advised, I just —"

"You just what?" she demanded. "Couldn't help yourself? She was just another easy banquet you couldn't pass up on? Honestly, why are you so vile? You mother must be so ashamed of you."

He blinked several times as the jibe punched him squarely in the chest. The sad, broken look in his eyes made her feel instantly guilty. Still, the apology died on her tongue when she remembered what Isobel had said about Adrian getting his hands on her. He bowed his head for a moment, extremely hurt.

"I—I don't know," he admitted quietly. "I guess I had no idea how much it would hurt.

"Bullshit, Renard," she sneered. "You knew full well what you were doing. You wouldn't have tried to hide it from me if that were really true. And you heard what she did to Adrian, and she doesn't even feel bad about it. She wouldn't wear that garish ring he gave her if she did. Besides," she continued in a soft voice. "You were at King's Cross the other night. You saw what he's like. I'm ashamed you were there, because I hate myself for how afraid of him I've become. But I am, Ren. In fact, I've never been this scared of anyone, and I've faced down a lot of nasty people. Tell me you see that. Tell me you understand how you've hurt me by having sex with that horrible bitch."

A tear slipped down his cheek, but he didn't immediately wipe it away. Soon it was joined by another, and then another.

"I'm sorry, Leolin," he admitted, disarmed. I didn't, but I swear that now I do. Leolin—I can't believe how selfish I've been." He wiped the wetness from his cheeks. "And you're right. My mother would be ashamed if she knew this was how I treated women. The way I treated my friends."

She bowed her head.

"I'm sorry I said that about your mum," she murmured. "That was really unkind.

He licked his lip and looked down.

"It obviously needed saying. Look, after what I've done I won't insult you by asking to be your friend again. But please let me help you. Breaking the gag and running interference on Genevieve can be my penance, and my toasts at your wedding can be my reward for a job well done."

She considered his proposal as the words resonated somewhere deep in her chest. Of all the unwavering support she had from Xavier and Severina and Ginny and Blaise, this was something only Felix could offer her. If she wanted Draco back, which she did more than anything, this was an offer she simply couldn't refuse.

"Yes," she whispered. "Alright."

"Yes?" he repeated hopefully.

"Yes," she said more definitively. "When should we start?"

He shrugged, eyes glittering with a smile with renewed hope. "How about right now?"

"Alright," she agreed, swishing her wand deftly several times, causing it to admit elegant sparks.

"Parchment and quill?"

She flicked her wrist and both materialised effortlessly.

"How do you do that?" he asked appreciatively.

"I have a cache of objects I want on me but don't want to physically carry around."

"Everyday stuff?"

She shrugged.

"Mostly. But also objects of great sentimental value that I want to keep close to me. And stuff like this," she said, flicking her wrist and catching the blueprints as they materialised from thin air. "No one can access the cache but me, so it comes in pretty handy for hiding things in a pinch."

"I can imagine," she agreed. "Right," she said. "what am I doing?"

He tapped the parchment with is index finger.

"Banana," he instructed.

"Why banana?" she asked.

"It's long but it only has three letters. It's good practice. I would have you use Mississippi, but I am not joking when I tell you that if you do it right you get the whole damn river. When we get to that stage, we have to practice outside. Go one, banana."

She wrote the word with great precision and care.

"Now close your eyes," he instructed. "And imagine the word 'banana'."

She tried, then growled in frustration when nothing happened.

"I think I see the problem," he said. "Don't picture a banana; picture the word banana. Picture each letter."

"Okay," she said.

"Can you see them all at once."

"Yes, b-a-n-a-n-a," she intoned.

"Good," he said. "Now imagine the letters linking together. b to a, a to n, n to a, and so on."

He was walking around her and watching like a coach perfecting an athlete's form.

"Okay," she said. "It looks like cursive now."

"Great," he said. "Now mentally push the way you do when you're trying to find the word on the tip of your tongue. Pretend banana's that word, and use that burst you get when you finally get the word. Great," he said calmly. "Now open your eyes."

She did so to find a perfectly ripe banana sitting on the table in front of her. She beamed, and he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I'm not as good as I think I am," he said smugly. "I'm better. Go again."

She did it successfully several more times. She then imagined the word already in cursive and got faster. She strung b-a-n-a-n-a together seven times and produced a whole bushel.

"This is a mental muscle," he instructed. "You have to keep exercising it. If you do, you'll be surprised how quickly it bulks up. If you practice, I can have you working on the gag in a week. It's going to be more difficult because the wording is compliqué and you're going to have to string sentences together at once, but we don't have time to waste.

"I don't care," she said, sitting on the counter and peeling a banana. "I'll do whatever it takes."

He hopped up next to her and peeled one himself.

"I'm not hitting on you so please don't slap me, but you really are one of the most incredible women I've ever met," he said reverently.

"I know," she said calmly. "That's why everyone is either secretly or overtly in love with me. Or obsessed with me, at the very least.

She looked down. She'd been trying to make a joke, but the truth before it was too grave to ever be funny. They sat is a silence he longed to break.

"I love bananas," he said at last, peeling another.

"I don't even," she said with a soft laugh. "I just wanted to look fucking badass."

"Mission accomplished."

She gave a small smile and they lapsed back into silence. Finally she spoke.

"Felix?" she said softly.

"Yeah?"

"I'm still mad at you," she admitted, sounding hurt. "I probably will be for awhile."

"I know," he said. "I can live with that."

"Good," she said, hopping off the counter and heading for the bedroom.

"Where are you going?" he called.

"To change," came her distant reply.

"What for?"

"Need to know basis," she shot back.

He shrugged, traipsing around the admire the place. Like Leolin, it was perfectly adorned and hopelessly stylish. He noticed Bachardus's Fletcher's The Strictures of Wizarding Magic lying on a sleek glass coffee table, and he felt his resolve to help her hardening.

As he began to wonder where she kept her liquor, having decided he needed a rum and soda, the lift doors parted to admit two figures, a man and a woman, both of whom had flaming red hair. They were obviously twins of relatively the same height and build, and though neither was notable, they had the kind of affable faces one felt almost pre-destined to like. The man flicked his wrist to disable to wards before they both turned to give him a hard, penetrative look.

"Felix Chaisson," he said quickly in greeting.

"Sweeney," the man replied, shaking Felix's outstretched hand. "But everyone calls me Swish."

"Good to meet you," Felix said, turning his attention to the petite woman.

He gave her an up-down out of pure habit and she glowered at him.

"Don't even," she snapped. "I've been forewarned."

"Sorry," he said sheepishly.

"I'm Effie," she replied.

"Charmed."

"I'm not," she said sternly. "So knock it off."

He nodded.

"Yes ma'am."

Just then Leolin emerged, beaming at the twins.

"Don't you look bonnie!" Effie exclaimed, kissing Leolin's cheek and eying her revealing jumpsuit Leolin had changed into. "Off to see your beau?"

"Naturally," Leolin laughed, kissing Sweeney now. It was clear that she was like a little sister to them. "But I just wear things like this to torture his slaggy Yank fiancee."

They both laughed, and Felix smiled, too.

"Gods," Effie breathed appreciatively. "I love you."

Leolin smiled again before catching sight of Felix eying her deliciously pushed-up breasts hungrily in her peripheral. Without even properly looking at him, she slapped him so hard upside the head that his neck snapped forward.

"Ow!" He cried ruefully, rubbing the spot. "What was that for?"

"You know what," she said evenly. "Don't do it again."

"Fine," he growled. "But you should know that neckline is completely unfair."

She rolled her eyes, turning back to the twins.

"Did you bring the painting?" she asked, and Effie unslung it and handed it to Leolin. She then tossed it to Felix.

"Ready to show off a bit, Renard?"

He gave a cautious smile.

"Always, bichette."

He turned the canister over several times, scrutinising it.

"Merlin, this thing is sealed up."

"Well we stole it from Lucius Malfoy, so..." Sweeney said proudly.

"Ready?" Felix said, clearly impressed.

"Art thieves," the twins replied in unison.

"Can you break the seals?" Leolin asked.

"Definitely," Felix replied.

"How long?" Effie asked.

"Two hours, maybe three. These charms are pretty involved.

"Three hours?" Sweeney repeated incredulously. "That's it. Maleficent, Nay, we're going to have to pull this tonight. You need to get to Malfoy's right now and fill him in."

"I know," Leolin said. "But I have all the specs. Ren, when you break the seals, is the location of the house going to show up?"

He studied the canister then nodded.

"The painting is linked to something at the chateau it's dying to get back to. Once we get it out, it will lead us straight to it. We'll have to hurry, though. The bond is going to throw off serious energy. I am going to say we only have about twenty minutes before the house's protective charms repair themselves and Pucey and them are on us."

Leolin traded a grave look with the twins.

"It's tight," Sweeney admitted. "But doable. Our best time is 24 minutes 37 seconds at the Thyssen, but that was with guards and charms."

"We need to be out," Felix reiterated. "I have no intention of tangling with Pucey again; he's riled up enough about Rome as it is."

"We might not have a choice," Leolin pointed out. "But if we do get jammed up, we're holding court on the street."

"Will Pucey bring his younger brother?" Felix queried.

Leolin nodded.

"The inner circle is going to be Adrian, Tommy, Tate Rawle, Graham Montague and Thivierge."

"What about Annalysse Blake?" Felix asked keenly.

"I would assume so. Sounds like she's taken over as Adrian's personal guard since Dolohov was killed.

He nodded.

"Good to know."

"Do we have any specs on this place?" Effie asked. "Don't particularly fancy going in blind."

Leolin effortlessly produced the blueprints and projected them on the floor.

"Right," she said. "These plans aren't perfect, but they'll give us a sense of the layout. There are five floor incluidng hte wine cellar on the garden leven, and that' where they'll be keeping Sebasten. I;m going to bet the floors won't allow more than one person to enter at a time. There's five of us, so we'll each take a floor. Now, we don't want to reunite Sebasten until completely necessary, so we'll have two people moving up with Sebasten and two people moving down with the painting. We'll meet in the billiards room on the second floor. There is a fireplace and a floo grate there, so we can burn the painting when we're done and leave through the floo.

"Two questions," Felix said, staring at the floorplan intently. "First, how do we now Pucey's going to open to floo grates?"

"You can't apparate directly in and out of the house, and Adrian's not going to waste time making the trek from the front gates to the main house.

"Hang on," Sweeney said. "That's assuming he gets there before we're gone. I though that's exactly what we were trying to avoid!"

"Not necessarily," Leolin said. "If we time it right," he'll be coming in just as we're going out."

"Okay," Felix said. "Second question: Who's taking which floor and how do we get in?"

"The muggle way," Leolin said. "Magic will only feed the barrier reparative system. We're just going to have to break the windows.

"And who's going where?" Effie said.

"Draco is going to want to get to Sebasten first, so he can take the cellar. Swish, you are going to know the layout better, so you go to the first floor and wait for Draco and help him navigate to the second. Ren, you're going to hold the fort on two and make sure we're ready to get the hell out once we're done. Effie, you're a faster climber, so you go to three then get down to two to held Ren. I'm taking the painting to four. I know the layout best and I'm the quickest. Remember, we want the painting and Sebasten together for the shortest possible about of time. We unite them, we get what we need, and we get the fuck out. Agreed?"

"Yeah," Effie said. "Easy Peasy."

"Gemenio," Leolin said in response, copying the blueprint. "Right," she said. "I'm off to Draco's to catch him up. Swish, Eff: study the layout. You might need to help Draco or Sebasten navigate. Floor the minute you break the seal. I'll make sure Draco is ready to go. Swish, don't suppose you brought the apparation transport and the long distance stones."

He bubbled his lips self-importantly.

"Darling, it's like you donna know me at all," he said.

She laughed heartily at this.

"Of course," she said, still smiling. "My apologies. Right, I'm off. Chaisson, close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Just do it," she demanded.

Begrudgingly he obeyed her. When she waved a hand in front of them and he didn't react, she readjusted her décolletage.

"What do we think?" she asking, fixing the spanish silk bra underneath.

Effie laughed. "Delicious. Have fun with the torture."

Leolin smirked.

"Always do. Au revoir. Chaisson, you can open you eyes now."

She threw on a smart leather jacket over the revealing jumpsuit, gave her soft, voluminous curls a tousle, and apparated out.

Somehow Leolin knew that it would be Genevieve who answered the door, and she wasn't disappointed. Or rather, she was. It swung in, and Gen immediately gave her a disdainful look. Rodames had trotted over as well, poking is nose out between Gen's thigh and the door jamb and panting contentedly.

"Leolin," she said, voice still melodic and somehow sweet. She tried to nudge the dog back, but he was too excited to be deterred. "What calculated surprise."

Leolin looked her up and down. She was obviously headed out somewhere. She wore a satin cocktail dress in midnight blue, delicate lace detail across her otherwise bare shoulders and along her hem. Her blonde hair had been coaxed into a loose chignon, and two dazzling earrings dangled in her ears.

"Let me in, Geneveive," Leolin replied in a bored voice.

"No. What are you doing here, anyways?" Gen demanded, genteel veneer finally slipping.

"I have to see Draco," Leolin said. "It's important."

Gen pursed her lips.

"Not dressed in that, you don't."

Leolin rolled her eyes.

"Stop being a jealous whore and let me in. I really don't have time for your stupid games today."

"I don't have time for yours," Gen said, still fighting to stay polite. "You think you can just waltz in here with your slutty romper and try to seduce Draco behind my back?"

Leolin rolled her eyes.

"It's tedious how jealous you get. You won him fair and square, remember? Besides, if you don't trust us, be my guest and stay. I don't really care."

"You're not coming in," Gen said, eyes glittering. "Go away."

She made to slam the door, but Leolin put a hand against the wood, forcing it back open.

"Oh, yes I am.

"Like hell," Gen sneered.

"Step aside or I swear to Merlin I will kick you. Or better yet, I will let Narcissa that you're the reason we couldn't rescue Sebasten tonight."

She grit her teeth and glowered.

"Check mate," Leolin said saucily, stepping forward and pushing the door open.

Leolin sauntered in, petting Rodames and feeling smug at having bested Gen.

"You bitch," Gen sneered.

"Rubber and glue," Leolin shot back, shrugging out of the jacket and tossing it carelessly across the back of the expensive sofa. The lock pendant fell perfect into the valley between her betwiching breasts. The diamonds in its face winked up at Gen, who screamed in annoyance. Her shrill tone set Rodames to barking.

"G?" Draco called from the loft. "Are you alright, darling?"

"Not really," she bit out as Leolin continue to smug and pet a contented Rodames. "Lefevre is here."

Leolin hopped onto the kitchen counter, smiling blithely as she popped a grape into her mouth.

"What does she want?" he called back.

"What do you want, Leolin?" Gen said, her voice uncharacteristically cold.

"None of your sodding business," Leolin said sweetly.

Gen glowered.

"It's about Sebasten and the painting," Leolin called to Draco, eating another grape and swinging her dangling legs like a little girl.

There was a pause.

"Be right down," he called finally.

Leolin raised her eyebrows and smiled nastily at Gen again.

"You should know something," Gen snapped as Leolin conjured a glass, summoned the gin and the tonic, and made herself a drink.

"What's that, then?" she said in a bored voice, taking a sip.

"Drake and I set a date last night. October 24th. He even re-proposed last night."

Leolin had to fight savagely not to gag on her sip. This was probably what Ginny had been trying to warn her about. She bitterly wished she'd listened. The need to cry was instantly overwhelming, and she had to dig her nails into her palm to stave the sensation off. Still, she was a good actress. Instead of betraying her anguish, she gave a condescending laugh before eating another grape and washing it down with her drink.

"Bully for you," she said in faux mirth. "Though it's a shite date. October is rainy season."

Gen seemed put out that her words hadn't wounded the way she'd hoped.

"Shut up," she snapped.

Leolin, in lieu of responding, simply gave Gen a condescending up-down.

"What are you all dressed up for? Hot date with Brankovitch?"

Gen gave a sour frown as Leolin nodded mirthfully and gave a small laugh.

"Figured as much."

"I could say the same thing about you and that slimy little fox Chaisson. The two of you have been spending an awful lot of time together lately."

At this Leolin laughed outright, blue eyes sparkling.

"You really want to talk to me about Felix?" Leolin smirked. C'mon, Gigi, we both know that's a losing game. You just better hope I don't tell Drake all the filthy things he used to do to you in bed. Merlin, it makes me want to blush just thinking about it!"

"Don't. You .Dare," Gen grit out.

Leolin shrugged affably in response. In reality she couldn't tell Draco because she had no idea and no desire to find out. Still, judging by Gen's reaction, it must have been really depraved.

By this time Draco'd appeared wearing a pair of slim-fitting khakis and a white shirt so tight they could see the swell of his biceps. He was wearing his frames and no shoes.

"Lefevre," he said dryly, taking in her attire at once. "Long time, no see."

Rodames cantered over and began vying for Draco attention.

"This isn't a social call," Leolin affirmed. "I have something important to show you."

He gave a discerning frown before petting Rodames's head softly.

"You have my attention."

Gen stood silently pouting, and Draco finally managed to drag his eyes from Leolin to look at her. She came immediately into his arms for a kiss, and Draco happily obliged. However, the minute her back was turned, his glittering gaze slipped to Leolin's pendant. His eyes traced the smooth curves of her breasts before climbing the slender column of her neck, skating around her full lips, and finally meeting hers. Watching him intently, she raised her eyebrows and bit her red lip sinfully as if to say 'if you want me, come and claim me.'

he growled in frustration before turning his focus back to Gen.

"Are you taking off?" he asked, affectionately tapping her nose.

She nodded.

"I'm late already," she said. "Max is going to be annoyed."

"Have fun, then," Draco said, padding forward and looping an arm around her petite waist. "And come straight home. I don't want you out too late."

Even in bare feet his height dwarfed hers, and she balled two fistfuls of his t-shirt and kissed him solidly. Leolin rolled her eyes, wandering a ways away and hopping casually up onto the granite island in the kitchen, still eying them with contempt. Gods, she hated feeling jealous. What was more, she most especially hated that she was jealous of Gen.

"I will," Gen affirmed, clearly reveling in his attention.

"Be good," Draco said, licking his now-swollen lips and fingering one of Gen's sparkling earrings.

"You too," she said, her smile too easy to be genuine. "See you later."

He nodded, and she threaded her hand into his hair again.

"I love you," she said firmly, and Leolin knew what she was endeavouring to do.

It admittedly stung dully, but Leolin pretended not to care. Still, she was a little breathless to hear Draco say it back. Luckily, he avoided it.

"I know," he replied, tapping his index finger on her nose again. "Now get out of here."

Gen nodded before eying Leolin hatefully.

"I sincerely hope you're gone by the time I get back."

"What a coincidence," Leolin said, vanishing her empty glass. "So do I."

"Goodbye darling," Draco repeated, kissing her again for good measure.

She nodded, still smiling at him.

"Leolin?" she said in her genteel Southern tone. She hadn't used it on Leolin in months.

"Geneveive?" Leolin said in a caricature of Gen's South Carolinian drawl.

"You're a bitch."

"Takes one to know one," Leolin snapped back evenly. "Give Brank a kiss for me."

"Ugh!" Gen huffed, and with that she stomped out.

"Was that really necessary," Draco said dryly.

"Was that?" Leolin countered, gesturing towards the door and the direction of Gen's tantrum.

He gave her only a cool look in response.

"So," he said, eyes hooded as he studied her outfit again dispassionately. "Did you wear this little costume to try and make me vulnerable? I have to admit it's ineffectual at best."

"Don't be egotistical and annoying," she said in a bored voice. "I dress for myself. If you don't like it, I don't care. Besides, we both know how beautiful I look tonight, so do yourself a favour and not waste your breath trying to convince me otherwise."

He pursed his lips.

"Wouldn't dream of it. Wine?" he said, licking her lips inadvertently as he eyed her.

"Always," she replied.

He produced two fat-bellied glasses and filled each with three fingers worth of Pinot Noir.

He handed her one and she raised her glass so it touched his.

"Confusion to our enemies," he said softly, and she nodded.

They both took a sip to fill the tense silence that followed. Finally she spoke, setting down her glass and looking at him intently.

"I want to say something," she said, watching Rodames trot back to his own bed and settle down, seemingly assured that Draco was staying in the room.

"Go on, then," he drawled. "No one's stopping you."

She looked down at her hands before looking back at him.

"I know you think I blame you for what happened yesterday with Kelly, but I don't."

He studied her face keenly.

"Is that so?" he said.

"Yes," she said, trying to sound calm and cool. "I know what that cost you. You should just know that sacrifice didn't go unnoticed, least of all by me. I—I guess I wanted to say that in some odd way I appreciate what you did. You probably saved Kelly's life."

He bowed his head for a second, clearly afraid his facial expression might betray any emotion. Finally, he looked up.

"Good to know, I suppose."

She could still see the truth shining in his eyes. She knew better than anyone Draco's struggle not to be his father, and thus only she could truly understand what agony the performing the Cruciatus was for him.

"So," he began again. "If this scintillating getup isn't for me, who is it for?"

"Excuse me?" she demanded, breathless and annoyed.

"I said who are you so dressed up for?"

"Oh no," she snapped. "I heard you. I just can't for the life of me imagine how that's any of your business."

"Don't be difficult, Lefevre."

"You're getting married in two months," she said flatly, a dull ache in her stomach. 'Butt out."

"Tell me it's not Chaisson," he pressed, smirking imperiously. "He's so pathetically desperate to get in your knickers."

"Are you bloody deaf?" she demanded. "I said butt out."

He gave a cruel smirk, though it was admittedly a poor smokescreen for his jealousy.

"That a yes, Lefevre?"

She met his gaze and leaned in until her lips practically brushed his.

"What part of 'butt out' is escaping you?" she said snidely.

"Coy doesn't suit you," he fired back, eyes glittering.

"Nor envy you," she drawled, making a deliberate show of biting her lip and leaning back as her eyes flicked to his.

He clenched his jaw; she could tell he was longing to kiss her. He exhaled an audible breath as one corner of her mouth jerked slightly upwards in a half-smile.

"You really are little vipress, you know that?" he said softly.

She met his gaze boldly, un-phased.

"I pride myself on it."

She looked away, taking a sip of her wine instead of replying.

"Right," she said at last. "Have I satisfied your desire for small talk? I'm getting bored with your sniping."

"Alright," he said, jerking his head and indicating she follow him to the sprawling dining room table. "What have you got?"

She sat casually on the table and crossed one lithe leg over the other, looking at him intently.

"First I should tell you that one of my Genie associates broke into the Manor and found something interesting."

"Severina told me you'd found the painting," he said, crossing his across his chest.

"Good," she said, raising her eyebrows. "That means I'll be spared your usual indignation."

"For now," he agreed. "But I reserve the right to berate you if you haven't made suitable progress."

"You're so predictable, Malfoy."

"Have you seen the painting yet?"

"No, the canister has about a million protective seals. But we'll have it open by tonight. That's the first time I came about. We're moving on this tonight."

"We?" he demanded. "Who is 'we'?"

"I just said; one of my Genie associates."

"Anyone else?"

"Why don't you leave that to me," she said evenly.

"Chaisson," he said, gritting his teeth. "I don't think so. This is my stepfather's life we're talking about here! I'm not going to let you put it in the hands of some twat who just wants to fuck you. I mean, what are we going to do when you inevitably give into him and he gets bored with the whole thing?"

She slapped him almost casually across the right cheek before sliding gracefully back onto her spindly heels as she stood, eying him.

"You don't wan't my help? Good luck on your own."

"Ugh, Lefevre—"

"If want this done," she warned him, putting a finger in his face. "We're doing it my way."

"If Chaisson betrays us—"

"He won't."

"And what guarantee do you have of that?"

"He's signed the contract, and I made him sign another for good measure. Besides, I trust him."

"So it's not just Chaisson then," Draco said, looking down at her magnifiscently displayed breasts. "Interesting."

"Why is it that you feel compelled to assume I intend to shag every man I meet?"

He shrugged.

"Because you've never given me any reason to assume otherwise."

"You know what?" she demanded. "You can just shove that right up your arse! Want to know a little secret about Chaisson?"

"Certainly," he sniped.

"Back in the day he and Gen shagged all the time. He's the one who introduced her and Max, who she's also slept with. Oh, and let's not forget that she fucked that sodding twat Beau Taylor."

He clenched his jaw, and she knew she was planting seeds of doubt and mistrust. She was grimly satisfied.

"I will bet you your entire fortune right here and now that Gen's slept with at least three times more blokes than I have. What do you think, Malfoy? You ready to finally find out what it's like to be fucking broke?"

"Gen's past is her past," Draco grit out, sidestepping her accusation. "It has no bearing on our future."

"The past is never just the past, darling, " Leolin purred dangerously. "And someday soon Gen's is going to rear its ugly head. Mark my words."

"So is yours," he warned.

"I welcome it," Leolin countered. "Now, where were we?"

"The painting."

"Right, " Leolin said. "That's the first time I came about. We're moving on this tonight. Besides, I realised something important today, and for once it bodes well for us."

"What's that, then?"

"Remember when I told you about guardians?"

"Vaguely," he admitted.

"They're an object that can hold a secret or a hidden object. The object's secret can only be unlocked by its secret-keeper."

"I am in this case that that's Sebasten."

"Right. I'm confident now that the painting is a guardian."

"So what does that mean for us?" he asked.

"Well first off," she said. "It means Adrian and your father can't unlock whatever it is as long as we hold the painting."

"But surely they realise we're the ones who took it."

"We left a fake in its place."

"A fake is not going to fool my father, Lefevre," Draco said in irritation.

"You have no idea who you're dealing with, Malfoy" Leolin retorted. "These are world-class thieves and forgers, not to mention convincing charms. Your father's not an art expert, and either is Adrian."

"Right," he said. "Whatever. What's the next part, then?"

"Sebasten can't be harmed," she said. "He can't be tortured for the secret the painting is guarding. His role as secret-keeper protects him. That means he's still alive."

Draco contemplated this.

"That is good news," he said, nodding. "The best we've had in awhile."

"That's not all," she said excitedly, pulling out the replica and smoothing it on the table. "So your mum said it was a man in the painting, right? She never said anything about these three."

"Yeah," Draco agreed. "She must have just been confused. There are a ton of painting in that house."

"What if she wasn't, though?" Leolin pressed. "What if this isn't the painting she was used to seeing?"

"What do you mean?" he demanded. "We have the wrong work?"

She shook her head.

"I was talking to Kelly this morning—"

"Are you bloody kidding me, woman?" he demanded. "Don't bring sodding Troy into this."

"Lay off Kelly," she demanded. "You have no reason to hate him anymore."

"Besides the fact that he's a twat," Draco hissed.

She rolled her eyes, thinking about what Kelly had said about her reconsiling with Draco. Right now the prospect didn't even feel particularly appealing.

"Do you want to hear what I have to say or not? We're on a time crunch."

"Fine," he said. "Good ahead, then."

"His cousin used to work on guardianship and objecthood in Eastern Europe, and Kelly pointed out something super important."

She paused, and he rolled his eyes.

"Enough with the dramatic timing, Lefevre. Just spit it out."

"He was saying that she works on objects which were transformed in the presence of their secret-keeper. Think about it; that painting was in Sebasten's private study, which is in a totally remote part of the flat. Your mum was probably rarely—if ever—up there without him."

Draco understood her meaning at once.

"That means that every time she was in there, so was Sebasten."

She nodded, pleased that he was so tuned into what she was implying.

"Every time she looked at the painting, Sebasten was there, transforming the subject of the work. Sarpedon and Sleep and Death are just a feight; the really subject on the painting is a single figure. This figure."

She jabbed at the figure in the shadowy background, the whites of the figure's eyes still glinting malevolently.

"That's why Lucius hasn't had any success with this," Leolin explained. "They would naturally have kept Sebasten and the painting separated. That way it was impossible for both of them to disappear if something went wrong."

Draco was scanning the image, and she could see his mind working furiously.

"That's bloody brilliant," he breathed at last, looking at her with a mixture of begrudging respect and utter longing.

She knew cleverness like this turned him on.

"I know," she said. "It changes everything. When we break the seal on the canister, we''ll be able to find out more about the coins. At this point, I don't think they quite know either. They're just blindly guessing. The painting is the key to the coins. Hell, they might even be hidden inside the painting, and if they are, your stepdad is probably the only person who can retrieve them. We rescue him, we have Charon's obols and Bones's payment."

"I have to floo my mum," he said at once. "I have to tell her all this."

"Do you see what this means?" she asked, breathless. "If the coins are hidden in here and we can find a way to destroy them, Lucius's whole plan will be destroyed."

"I know," Draco said, eyes dancing across her face. "Believe me; I've already played it out."

"It's not going to be easy," Leolin said. "But at least now it feels less impossible."

He nodded.

"I admit it's a relief."

"Very much so," she said, taking another sip of wine.

He was studying her now, diamond eyes glittering.

"Thank you," he said at last, looking down into the bowl of his glass. "For not giving up on this."

Her heartbeat quickened.

"That's my job," she replied simply.

She could feel something flowing between them that she hadn't felt since New Orleans, and it was both intoxicating and terrifying.

"I know I've harped on you," he admitted. "But you really are bloody clever at what you do."

"Yes," she said evenly, daring him to look her in the eye. "I am."

"I could never do this without you, despite how much I might want to," he admitted. "It's rather frustrating, in fact."

"I don't know why you insist on wasting energy hating me," Leolin admitted. "It would be a lot easier to just accept me as part of your life."

"I can't," he admitted, eyes a touch hateful now. "There has never been an in-between for me as far as you're concerned. It's either total hatred or—"

She leaned in, offering the most privileged view of her chest as she looked up at him through long lashes.

"Or?" she prompted softly, eyes flicking to his Cupid's bow lips.

"Or I'm so far under your insidious little spell that I can't see straight," he said. "I'll admit that you practically had me in New Orleans, but that was the last time. I told you then; I'm done."

"I didn't have you under some hideous spell," Leolin breathed truthfully. "I think what you're describing is what most people would call love."

"What is love," he demanded. 'If not a creeping form of control?"

"You're awfully cynical for a groom-to-be," she pointed out. "Does Gen know you feel this way? Something tells me she'd be annoyed, to say the very least."

"With Gen it's different," he sniffed imperiously. "She's not such a little snake."

"I beg to differ," Leolin said hatefully.

"She's my asp," Draco said. "Deadly, but needing no subtly."

"Then what am I?"

He surveyed her.

"A black mamba," he said at last. "You lie in wait and strike when it's too late for your prey. I couldn't see it when we were together, but now I've watched you work your power on other blokes, and I can see what a cunning little thing you really are."

His words stung, and she stood at once, putting her back to him and trying not to let his words sink it too deep.

"Struck a nerve, have I?" he goaded.

She took a large breath, squeezing her eyes shut a moment before wheeling on him.

"I'm not a snake," she said at last, eyes narrowing. "I'm just the humble snake-charmer. You're the one with all the venom."

"You really think so?" he demanded softly.

"I know so," she said. "And the fact that I'm a snake-charmer is not so much a testament to my cunning as it was a demonstration of your otherwise cruel nature," she bit out.

He clenched his jaw, his beautiful eyes glittering.

"People find you alluring because you're just the right amount of elegant and dangerous, and you've never been afraid to strike and kill when it suits you. If that's not snake-like, I don't know what is," Leolin continued.

"And yet you don't seem afraid," Draco admitted, eyes hooded. "You are, as you say, in striking distance now."

"I'm not afraid for the very reason I've just said," she explained, advancing on him "I know how to subdue you. I've always had that power, and we both know I always, always will. If you want to waste your life loathing me, you're more than welcome to try," Leolin said, breathless as he towered over her. "But I think we both know what happens when you try to land a blow against me."

"A very compelling speech," he admitted, breathing in her perfume with every inhale. "And likely very true, and one point. But that ship's sailed, Lefevre. If you trying and control me again, I'll stop your heart."

"You don't have the stomach, " she snapped, meeting his eye as her heart hammered. She was so keyed up that she feared she might burst into frustrated tears. "I think we both know that way deep down."

He responded by driving both hands into her unbound hair, gripping at the base of her neck so she couldn't look away. His hips were a breath away from hers, and his cool breath was falling on her parted lips.

"I could have had you in London," he reminded her cruelly, lips even closer as he spoke. "I could have had you in Atlanta. And I walked away. If you thought you could change my mind so easily, I'm afraid you don't actually know me at all. You don't have sway over me anymore. You've been utterly replaced."

"Is that so?" she breathed, struggling a little against his grip. "Is that why you still imagine me when you're in bed with Gen?"

He sneered.

"Who told you that?"

"You did," she grabbing his wrists in an effort to dislodge his firm grip. "I can see it in your eyes how badly you want me."

"If I were to have you," he grit out, furthering his entangled grip. "It would only be to satisfy an itch. You may be beautiful and desirable," he said. "But you mean nothing to me."

He released his gripped as she stumbled back several paces, chest heaving.

"Someday you're going to regret saying that," she promised softly.

"I doubt it," he replied coldly. "No run along before I change my mind and tear that jumpsuit off you."

She'd regained some composure and sneered, though she admittedly wasn't sure how long she could manage to feign impassivity.

"Go ahead and try it," she said, her nasty tone a poor concealment for her hurt. "I dare you."

"What are you going to do, Lefevre?" he taunted.

She drew her wand in a flash, purring serpentsortia. Immediately a large, coal black snake issued from her wand, its obsidian eyes moving back and forth as it slithered quickly across the hardwoods.

He drew his wand steadily, but she could see a blunted fear in his eyes. The mamba's venom could stop the human heart in less than two minutes.

"Very clever," he said, narrowly avoiding a strike. "But then, you always did have a flare for the dramatics."

It lunged again, vangs bared.

"Vipera Evanesca."

Immediately the mamba dissipated into nothingness, and Leolin turned her back, shrugging back into her leather jacket.

"I'll floo you when we break the charms," she snapped. "Be ready."

He gave her a cold look.

"Don't let the door hit you in the arse on the way out."

"Fuck you," she snapped, but as she turned to leave, her floo began to smoke.

"Get shoes," she demanded. "We have to go. Swish!?"

"Chaisson broke the seal, Nay. We have to move. The clock's already ticking."

Draco re-emerged in all black, and the door swung in just as they prepared to depart. Gen read Draco's face at once and looked alarmed.

"Drake, what—" she began, but he cut her off.

"Floo my mum and then take her straight to the villa. Call Myles and Aleco when you get there and wait for me."

"Draco!" Leolin said as her floo smoked again. "We have to go! We should be gone already."

"Drake—" Gen whined.

"Do as I say, Genevieve," he commanded. "Now!"

She did as she was bid, disappearing instantly. When she was gone, Leolin reached an arm out to Draco. He pulled her instinctively to his chest as they began to swirl into nothing, tangling his fingers in her hair and pressing his cheek to her temple. He was clearly afraid, and she realised she was, too. They arrived at the flat a minute later, still intertwined.

"Nay!" Sweeney called, breaking their reverie. "Let's go!"

"How long?" she said somewhat breathlessly.

"Eighteen minutes and counting," Effie replied.

Leolin and Draco traded a last look.

"What are we waiting for, then?"