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

30. Chapter 29: Reformation of the Order

2000 new words added! PLEASE REVIEW, NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE UP SOON

Chapter 27: Winds in the West/The Reformation of Order

Adrian stood in the shadowy doorway that looked out into the brick courtyard at the centre of old Wizarding New Orleans. The sun was shining overhead, and it glinted off the red brick as heat rose from them in waves. He leaned on the doorway, arms crossed as he waited. He'd spent the last eight months trying to follow the trail of the leak, and had largely been an exercise in frustration. Whoever was running the Stateside operations knew their business, and they ran a tight ship. However, he'd recently followed the trail to the American South, most notably New Orleans, and he was gaining momentum at long last.

His first clue had been the resignation of a high-ranking Belfast native named Gage Martin who held a prominent position in the department of Mysteries. He'd cited family trouble and given his notice at once. What was odd was the fact that Martin hadn't even asked for leave, simply insisting he needed to move home. Before Adrian could reach him, he'd disappeared back to Northern Ireland. The head of the department, Lydus Lynton, had told Adrian that Martin had begun poking around in the prophecies room, a place outside his jurisdiction, and had been reprimanded several times on this score. This had confirmed that he was part of the American ring.

He'd traveled to Belfast to the address Lynton had given him, though he'd run into some trouble on this score. Martin was long gone, and no one seemed willing to talk. He could tell that even though everyone knew Martin, no one wanted to betray him. However, he spared none of his charm, and though he had been embarrassed and emasculated in London after the divorce to Isobel, in Belfast he was the handsome stranger.

However, about three weeks in he'd discovered a chink in the tight chain. One of Martin's closest neighbours, a tough old Scottish bird named Fiona Huff, had a rebellious young daughter named Valary who was yearning to break free. Adrian wasn't initially sure how to get her alone and away from her mother, but before he could even begin to let this problem worry him, he'd run into her having a pint alone at the local pub. Her eyes were glittering as she watched him approach, and he knew as soon as he sat down next to her and bought her a drink he was going to have no trouble getting her into bed with him.

His friend Tate often warned him that he was a fool to carry on with virgins, particularly ones as dangerous as Torrii. However, after Torrii Adrian had actually developed a voracious appetite for them. They were tight and eager to please, and Valary was no exception. She'd been painfully easy to seduce—he hadn't even really had to try—and she gave up her virginity with no hesitation. He could tell she'd fallen completely under his spell, and it stroked his ego and made him feel more powerful. After months of frustration, it felt good to have something go so right.

Though it had delayed Adrian's search for Martin, he'd be secretly pleased when Valary had been reluctant to give up his secret. It allowed him to indulge in all her delectable charms whenever it suited him; she seemed positively incapable of refusing his requests.

However, he knew after a month of fucking her just for the sake of doing it that he had to tighten the noose and get her to spill, and he was positive he knew just how. Despite the fact that she pleasured him with her mouth almost every time they'd had sex, he'd never bothered to return the favour. He'd loved it when we was in school, particularly considering that depraved little potion all the girls took, and he knew was wicked good at it. However, after Isobel he'd lost his appetite for it, having become much more interested in dominating woman than pleasing them.

Still, the minute he'd started in on Valary with his tongue, she was a quivering mess, and it only took him five minutes to tug her undone. Perhaps he ought to do this more often; Valary had tasted like strawberry pie, whipped cream and all. However, when he thought of giving that kind of power over to Torrii, the idea lost its appeal. After he'd finished Valary off, he'd forced her to kiss him. She seemed reluctant at first given what he'd just done, but he didn't care, and he explored her mouth with his tongue until she gave in and reciprocated. Satisfied at having overpowered her and made her submit to him, he rolled on his back, Valary curled beside him.

Her small breasts were still heaving and covered in a glistening sheen of sweat.

"Oh my gods," she breathed. "That was incredible."

"Was it?" he said smugly.

"I didn't know it could feel—" she blushed. "You have a very talented tongue."

"So I've been told," he crowed arrogantly. "Just know I expect you to return the favour."

"Now?" she queried eagerly, already reaching to stroke him.

He gave a smooth laugh.

"Later," he said, pushing her hand away. "First I need your help."

"With what?" she asked, running a hand through his thick, tawny hair.

His gold eyes danced across her face before he bent to kiss her gently. He hated being gentle, but desperate times called for boring measures.

"With what?"

"I want you to do something for me."

"What?" she said, he could tell he was growing nervous.

He dipped, white teeth grazing her pulse point and eliciting a breathy cry.

"Tell me where Gage Martin went," he purred, working her neck more deliberatelynow.

She sat up a little, biting her lip as she pushed him a way.

"Why are you so keen to find him?"

Adrian sighed dramatically, flopping onto his back and looking away.

"Adrian?"

He and my little sister met in London and were inseparable, and when he ran off, he took her with him. Look, I realise it's the twenty-first century and she can do what she wants; she's an adult. It's just that she's my only sibling and I'm terribly worried about her. I'm not trying to drag her back or anything, I just need to know Martin's taking care of her."

She bit her lip.

"How old is she?"

"Twenty, just like you."

She bit her lip again.

"My mum will be so furious if I tell you."

"She's never going to know," Adrian goaded, softly kissing her again as his elegant fingers danced across the most sensitive spot between her thighs.

"Alright," Valary sighed. "I'll tell you."

Adrian broke into a smooth grin, his hand working the pearl of her clit.

"That's my good little girl," he said, unable to keep the greediness out of his voice.

"His name isn't Gage and he isn't Irish. His real name is Pádraic Mahone."

"He's from the Republic, then?"

She gave a moan, bucked her hips into his touch, and shook her head.

"He's an American."

Adrian knew he was part of the leak.

"Where in America?" he demanded, inserting a finger, then two.

She moaned in pleasure. She was so pathetically easy to get off. He hadn't fingered a girl like this since he was fourteen and still a virgin.

"Boston, I think," she whined, getting dangerously close. "His dad both grew up here, that's how my mum knows him so well, and they moved to America when Paddy was eleven."

"Where in Boston, do you know?" He pressed, pumping. "It one of the biggest Wizarding cities in New England."

"Harvard Square," she said. "But I don't think he's there anymore. My mum had a letter off him last week, and he said he'd moved down to New Orleans."

"New Orleans," Adrian repeated.

"Yes!" she cried, tight walls clenching around his fingers.

He retracted them, smiling seductively at her as he licked them clean. He'd always loved strawberries.

After he'd insured neither Valary or her mother could get a letter off to warn his prey, Adrian had followed Martin—or Mahone—he supposed, determined to skin the truth out of him. It had been easy to track him down; New Orleans was a small city. Adrian now watched as Mahone apparated into the square, looking around for his companion.

A second later another man appeared, striding forward and shaking Mahone's hand. Mahone was rather slender and blonde, and compared to his strapping companion, he looked downright skinny. The other man was tall and well-muscled, and he wore an annoyingly bright mustard-coloured sweater with a blazer atop it. He tugged off his ray bans and gave a cocky smile.

"How are you, General? I do believe it has been an age," the man said, his drawl betraying his Carolinian roots.

"Good to see you, Beau," Mahone replied.

His accent was American.

"So," Beau said casually, looking around to assure they were alone. "What news from jolly old England?"

"You want the good or the bad first?"

"I'm from the South, General" Beau said. "We always want the good news last. It leaves a pleasant after taste, you understand."

"Fine," Mahone said. "I have to get out of England; my cover blew."

"I know. A little birdie told me," Beau said lazily. "That's a downright shame. Now give me the good news before I grow melancholy."

"I had a chance to comb the prophecies inventory. It's just like we expected; this situation is entirely devoid of fate. We aren't bound by anything but the limits of our talent."

"That is good news," Beau agreed. "Especially considering that my talents have no limit."

"I bet," Mahone said dryly. "I haven't been able to get this up the proper channels yet, and I was wondering if you could do it for me. My contact in Belfast tells me that snake Pucey's been snooping around for me, and I have to get out of his sightline."

"It would be my genuine pleasure," Beau replied.

"Excellent. I'll be in touch when I lose my tail."

"Until next time, then. Now I hate to run out on you, General, but I'm afraid I have lunch plans with my darling Genevieve, and I hate to keep that belle waiting."

"Isn't she still shacking up with Malfoy?"

"Unfortunately yes," Beau said dryly. "But it's still 'look but don't touch'. Besides, she isn't completely divorced from all this. I promised I would keep her in the loop in exchange for these charming little lunch dates."

"Have fun, then," Mahone said, and Beau was gone in a crack.

Mahone didn't immediately leave, sitting on a bench and producing quill and ink to compose a letter. There was a swirling pop behind Adrian as he watched Mahone.

He turned.

"And where the fuck have you been?" he said mildly, appraising Torrii. She was dressed in an all black leather jumpsuit that clung to her girlish frame.

"I'm not at your beck and call" she said, blue eyes glittering. "And I was...busy."

He laughed.

"With McNair?" he mocked. "If that's suppose to make me jealous, it's not working. What you do on your free time doesn't interest me. I have more than enough tail to distract me when you're not around."

She sneered, clearly a little embarrassed. Even though what they had was purely physical, it clear still flustered her to hear she didn't have his undivided attention.

"What do you need?" she said, eager to change the subject.

"I want you to follow that bloke Mahone and make him sing. Floo me when it's done and tell me what you find out."

She put her hands on slender hips.

"You haven't mentioned what's in it for me. I'm freelance, Adrian, not an employee."

He snarled, pushing her roughly against the adjacent wall and squeezing her throat uncomfortably tight.

"Don't talk back to me you little brat, or I'll slap that smug look right off her face."

She was admittedly little cowed by the fierceness in his glittering eyes.

"I'm sorry," she choked. "Let go."

He didn't, and she gave a hoarse cough.

"You might not work for the Aurors' Office, but I fucking own you Torrii, in more ways than one. Don't test my patience."

She nodded and he gave her a grim smile and released his grip.

"Besides, do as I ask and there might be a reward in it for you."

"What kind of reward?" she said, unsure if he was being honest about rewarding her or euphemistically implying he was going to hurt her more.

In response, he pushed her roughly against the stones again, unzipping the jumsuit. He was pleased to find that she wore neither bra nor knickers underneath.

He rubbed left thumb roughly across her right nipple as his right thumb found her clit and caressed. He bit her neck as he worked, and she bucked her hips as she grew wet for him. The muscles in her strong core tensed to signal she was close. He leaned in so his lips brushed the shell of her ear.

"cessat voluptas," he breathed, retracting his hand.

Immediately she replaced it with her own, rubbing furiously as she licked her lips.

He loved watching her get off.

However, after a minute she growled in frustration.

"What did you do?" she demanded, still trying to get a release

"Until you do as I say, you won't be able to climax," he sneered. "So hop to it or I'll make you shag me for hours without a pray of orgasm."

She clenched her jaw, zipping her jumpsuit again.

"Call me when it's done then meet me at the hotel," he instructed.

She only huffed in response, and he sneered again, grabbing her arm this time.

"And stop whinging, or I'll give you something to really cry about."

The fear in her eyes was more pronounced now. She nodded wordlessly.

"And keep an eye on Beauchene. She's in on this too somehow. I want to know who else she sees and if this involves Malfoy or not."

"Fine," she said. "Anything else?"

"Don't drag in out," he instructed. "I want to get back to London by the end of the week."

She nodded again.

"I wouldn't want to keep you from Robbie's bed," he mocked with a cool smile.

She frowned and he laughed.

"Now get out of here," he demanded.

She nodded and disappeared with a pop.

---

Leolin lay on her back, staring up at the lofted ceiling of her bedroom and watching the blades of the distant fan as they chased one another. She should have been up by now, they were leaving within the half hour, but mornings were the hardest part of her day. Once she was up and busy it was easier to cope, but when she first woke up it was impossible not to feel the sadness crushing her chest so hard it felt as if it might concave. She'd only returned to London in the past week, having passed the three after the coin grab in Rome with the Severina and Xavier.

It had been catharic to spend so much time with Angelina and Isadora, and she and Sweeney had thrown themselves into finding out how to destroy the coins. Considering the fact they were practically chasing a myth, it felt like they were making good progress. The search kept the pain of losing Draco for what felt could be the final time, but it wasn't an infallible shield. The anguish bled through often, but she was working hard to lock it away before it consumed her.

There was more she could do, perhaps, she still had one last card to play, but she hadn't had the stomach to touch the gag since Paris, particularly without Felix. As much as she loved Severina and Xavier, they couldn't help her in her current state. They were too much in love, in love with either other and with their children, to truly understand her pain. Felix, she was sure, was the only person she felt might be able to commiserate. He'd never known love, which in some ways was crueler than having loved as lost, and he had, even in the short time she'd known him, been the ultimate balm for her loneliness. She missed him so bitterly that part of her longed to reach out, but whenever she reached for her floo, she thought of what he'd allowed through cowardly non-action, the desire burned away. The prudent part of her heart warned that she had to swallow her pride or lose Draco, but her heart was too badly scarred to listen. Her anger over what had happened was the only thing she had left, the only thing she still felt she could control, and she was terrified to let it go and find out what was lurking beneath it.

Her chance to live happily ever after with Draco was slipping by with every day she did nothing, but somehow she was still paralysed with the fear that it wouldn't be enough. Draco had dreamed of being a father since adolescence, and she knew that part of that desire was a yearning to see himself in those faces and know that something good had been born out of a line so cruel. Draco wanted his children to wash away sins of the Malfoy house, to clean the blood that had been bad for so long. Still, it came at a steep price: if he agreed to this child, there would be no reneging later; if he agreed to this child, he would be committing to Gen , Draco had never been one to go back on a promise or shirk an obligation. It was perhaps the one thing he'd learned from his father, and as a Malfoy it defined him. SHe didn't want to believe it, but she feared that even if there were no binding contract, Draco still wouldn't be able to turn his back on Gen, for the baby's sake if no one else's. This realisation was the most painful of all, and every time she thought of it, however briefly, it twisted the knife.

"Lai? Are you in the bedroom?"

At Ginny's voice echoing from the living room, Leolin sprang off the bed, throwing a dressing gown over her undergarments. She hadn't talked to Ginny about the pregnancy even after Draco confessed the truth to Blaise, and she didn't want to backslide by revealing to Ginny she struggling.

"You aren't dressed yet?" Ginny laughed, coming into the room with a steaming cup of coffee in her hand.

"Tell me that's mine," Leolin said Ginny, and Ginny extended her hand.

"You know I'm not drinking caffeine these days," she said.

Leolin gave a tight smile. Ginny was about three months now, and she and Blaise had officially announced it three days ago.

"Let me see," Leolin said in response, and Ginny loyally hesistated for a moment before lifting her lher loose shirt to reveal her small bump.

"Adorable," Leolin said, touching it softly after forcing down the pain. "How do you feel?"

"I dunno," Ginny admitted. "Morning can be tough when I'm jeffing every two seconds, and I have developed a really sensitive smell. Also I've been eating sweet potatoes like crazy."

"I thought you hated them."

"Welcome to pregnancy," Ginny replied.

Leolin looked away, ignoring the rhetorical invitation. That was club she'd never join.

"Sorry," Ginny mumbled.

"Don't be," Leolin said, trying to fend off a sad frown. "I love sweet potatoes."

"So," Ginny said, sheepishly changing topics. "You're not dressed because—?"

"I was working on the coins," Leolin lied. "Swish and I are making great progress."

"The plot thickens!"

"Indeed."

"Right, have you had breakfast? I'll whip something up while you get ready?"

"Eggs benedict?" Leolin asked.

"I was thinking more beans on toast."

Leolin put a thumb down, frowned, and blew a raspberry.

"Boo!" she said.

"Right," Ginny laughed. "Benedict then."

"And bacon?"

"I'm pregnant; of course bacon."

"Mimosa?"

"Do you have champagne?"

Leolin gave a quizzical cock of her head.

"Do you…know me?"

"Right, coming right up, your majesty. Get in the shower!"

Leolin did as she was told, trying to keep calm as she stepped under the stream. She couldn't say why, but she always felt a bit panicky in the shower. She supposed that since finding out about the pregnancy, she almost constantly felt she was drowning, and the water augmented that sensation. Either way, she was barely able to wash her hair and shave her legs before bursting into nervous tears and practically leaping out.

She grew calm when she was dry, and she sank down at her vanity and fixed her hair and makeup. The only hollow consolation in her time of anguish was that it had yet to bleed into her physical form, and she felt as beautiful as she'd been. Lucius had told her that she was a girl made lovely by sadness and perhaps he was right, but she drew a bitter, vain comfort in it.

She dressed in an elegant but austere black dress. It was melodramatic, perhaps, but she'd been able to wear little else since Paris. It felt a betrayal of herself and her sorrow to wear any colour other than black, and knowing she would be facing Draco and Genevieve for the first time that afternoon, she wouldn't have been able to stomach wearing anything else.

"Gods, it smells heavenly," she said, coming down the stairs.

"Not to brag, but doesn't it?" Ginny said, eying Leolin gently. "You look lovely, by the way."

Leolin smoothed the skirt, feeling more and more like she was attending a funeral. The funeral of her happiness, she supposed it could be.

"Thank you," she said simply, sitting down and pouring a mimosa and putting it down. The meal really did smell lovely, but now that she was dressed she found all she really wanted was to drink.

"Lai," Ginny began in a warm, protective tone. "About today—"

"Please," Leolin croaked quietly, pouring another drink. "Don't."

"I'm sorry," Ginny said, inadvertently rubbing her growing belly. "I just want you to know that Blaise and I are still fighting for you. This isn't over; not unless you really want it to be."

Leolin nodded but said nothing.

"Thank you," she said finally.

Ginny nodded.

"Eat up," she chirped. "We ought to go soon."

Leolin's stomach was in knots, but she did as she was bid and sat, though she'd yet to take a bite. However, before it could grow uncomfortable, there was a soft pop in the direction of the flat's private lift, and Sweeney appeared.

"Oh good," he said brightly. "You're still here. Do you have a minute? There's something I want to show you beore you go."

"Of course," Leolin said, grateful for a reason to rise. "Come in."

Ginny smiled, accepting a kiss on the cheek from Sweeney before checking her watch.

"I don't want to rush you two," she said. "So I'm going to go home and fill Blaise in. Lai, should we wait for you, or do you want to just meet us there?"

"I'll just meet you," Leolin affirmed. "I don't want to be annoying and hold you up."

Ginny smiled, smoothing her hair.

"You could never be annoying," she reassured Leolin. "I'll see you this afternoon."

She drew the portkey, which was a chipped teacup, from her purse and set it down. With that she was gone.

"How are you?" Sweeney said when Ginny was gone. "You look more beautiful every time I see you."

She smiled, standing and getting a third glass of champagne, which she didn't even bother to mix with orange juice.

"Thank you."

"Are you going to eat that?" he said, eying the beautiful Benedict.

"No," she said. "Go ahead."

"Cheers," he grinned, sitting down and tucking in.

"So what did you find out?" Leolin asked as he shoveled eggs and hashbrowns into his mouth.

"Greece," he said thickly through a mouth full of bacon. "I think that's where we're headed. I don't know quite where yet, but it makes sense. Charon is a Greek creature, at his core, and he's clearly the key to destroying these things since they were originally his. I know that's not much, but it felt significant."

"It is," she agreed. "Thank you. This will give me something to focus on after the meeting today."

There was a barren pause.

"How are you feeling about that?" Sweeney probed gently.

She gave a candid sigh.

"I'm worried I'm going to completely fall apart. I haven't seen Draco since—and I am dreading Genevieve. Still, I don't want to show weakness. If I don't face her head on, I will lose myself to all her bullshite."

"Stay strong, darling," he affirmed. "We're still fighting for you."

"Thank you," she said, watching him clean the plate. "I appreciate that more than you know."

He nodded.

"Always."

She glanced at her watch. The champagne churning like a tempest in her stomach.

"I should go," she said reluctantly. "I will let you know what happens today. Keep me updated about Greece."

"I will," he agreed. "And good luck."

She nodded, shrugged into her coat, grabbed the teacup and disappeared.

---

Draco lay on his back, staring up at the lofted ceiling of his bedroom and watching the blades of the distant fan as they chased one another. He'd barely slept, but these days that was not uncommon. It felt like every time he closed his eyes he was falling back into a Leolin-shaped nightmare, and it was so painful that he happily endured the effects of insomnia to avoid the pain. He couldn't get her face the last time he'd seen her out of his mind. He groaned, fighting the now-familiar urge to cry. It wasn't too late to go back, he told himself. He'd signed the contract shackling himself to Gen, but it wasn't unbreakable. He could leave anytime he wanted. He could go to Leolin. It would just come at a maddeningly steep price. He glanced at Gen, who lay beside him, and clenched his jaw in physical anguish.

He knew he should be furious with her and he was, but mostly he felt defeated. He wanted to fight her, to punish her for her cunning at trapping him, but he couldn't stomach it. Losing Leolin had bled the fight from him, and now he felt like a re-animated corpse. He was a husk, an empty shell, and he no longer had the fire to keep Gen at bay.

He glanced at her again, trying to feel something, anything. However, he didn't. He tucked some silky hard behind her ear, studying how the dark roots of her natural hair faded to cornsilk blonde. Her natural colour wasn't so dissimilar from Leolin's. Once they got married he would insist she change it. Merlin, he shouldn't have thought about Leolin. It caused such an ache in his stomach. It had been an impossible choice, the girl of his dreams and the things he'd always wanted, but in the end he knew he couldn't walk away, even if some part of him wanted to.

He stood, padding to the bathroom and shedding his clothes. He turned on the shower, standing under the scalding water and sighing. Gods, he missed her. He hadn't gotten over how how cruel he'd felt abandoning her. He yearned to reach out to her and apologise, but he knew that was unfair. The die was cast, and all she could do now was try to move on. He hoped for her sake she would be able to love again, even knowing he himself never would. He had never been worthy of her, and he didn't deserve a chance to be happy in her absence.

He slid a hand down the ridges of his taut stomach, wrapping a hand around the base of his manhood. He needed a sexual release, but he didn't want to have to touch Gen. His hand glided with smooth strokes, and he dropped his head against the tiles as he drew closer to release. He though about Leolin as his hand moved, but for once it wasn't sexual. He imagined her smile and her eyes, the way she'd looked at him on the dance floor in Germany. He recalled the image she'd given him of her resplendent wedding gown, and the way she'd made him feel as she twirled in his arms.

The warmth of the memories expedited his release, and he groaned as the feeling ebbed and flowed around him. Even the memory of Leolin and his hand were more satisfying than Gen had been lately. Perhaps when she began to show he would be more aroused by her, but right now it was hard to muster the energy to pretend anymore.

She was still sleeping when he got out, and he disappeared into the closet and closed the door. Today was the reformation of the order, meaning that today he would have to face all his toughest foes. The Borgias, Chaisson, Blair Lefevre, and Merlin even knew who else. Even Ginny had been distant from him since Greece, making it clear where she stood on the matter.

In the end he wore all black, a common occurence these days. The fitted onyx sweater adhered to his swelling muscles and jeans so dark they hardly looked like jeans at all. Like the sweater they were slim-fitting, showcasing his truly flawless form. He heeled into his shoes, adjusting the collar of his white dress shirt before opening the door again, carefully laying his coat on the bed. Gen was finally up, a tray in front of her with a coffee cup and a piece of toast on it.

He gently sat down beside her.

"I hope that's decaf," he said, trying not to tense as she brushed a kiss on his unresponsive lips.

"Of course," she said meekly.

He vanished the tray.

She'd just recently begun to show, and her breasts were already growing. Noting his hooded gaze, she slipped onto her back, pushing the sheet down so she was completely naked.

He traced her tiny bump and palmed a breast slowly and she gave an audible exhale.

"Are they tender?" he asked.

It was only in moments like this he felt able to stomach touching her. He knew it was his love for the baby spurring him on, but it felt like an instinct he needed to give in to. He was facing an eternity with her now, and selfish as it was, some part of him didn't want to spend that eternity completely alone. At the very least, he didn't want his child to grow up feeling unwanted or unloved.

She nodded.

"Extremely."

"They're already bigger," he noted softly, his touch gentler now.

"Do you not like it?"

He brought a second hand to her other breast.

"No," he said, focusing on the reason they were growing. They were going to feed his baby. The thought made it easier to keep going. "I do," he assured her, his grip firmer now, more deliberate.

She squirmed for a second before falling into a rhythm.

She grabbed a hand, pushing it down over the swell in her lower abdomen and between her legs.

Instinctually the pad of his thumb found her clit and began swirling counter clockwise. She mewed in pleasure, grabbing his arm at the elbow and urging him to keep going He slid his forefinger and middle finger inside in response, beginning to pump. She was already very wet for him and she groaned, arching her back and gyrating her hips. They hadn't had sex since the night of the World Cup massacre, and she was desperate for his touch.

"Draco," she purred.

He curled his fingers slightly as his thumb pushed up the hood of her clit and touched the pearl directly.

I'm so close," she breathed. "Cant you use your tongue?"

"I don't have time for that," he said flatly, breathing a little heavy.

"Please," she whined, riding his fingers the way she used to ride him.

"I said no," he repeated in a cold voice.

"It's hard with just your fingers," she insisted, unwilling to give up.

She wasn't usually so bold, but over the last few weeks she's begun flexing the power the contract had afforded her. He was bound to her forever, and now that she had him in a position of compromise, she wanted to get back what she'd lost, no matter the cost.

He lifted his thumb, no longing caressing her.

"Then I'll leave you here unsatisfied," he said curtly.

"I'm sorry!" she said quickly, pushing his thumb back against her. "It feels amazing."

He flicked his fingers up and down as his thumb moved, and her muscles grew tense. He was growing agitated; he felt somehow ashamed to be touching her.

"Genevieve," he demanded. "Stop holding back and come for me."

She did as he instructed, clenching around his fingers and crying out. He retracted his hand at once, casting a scourgify and looking away. She sat up immediately, touching his hair.

"Thank you," she breathed, kissing his shoulder.

"You're my fiancée, " he replied stiffly, taking no pleasure in this fact.

"I know we're in a rush this morning," she began eagerly. "But maybe tonight? It's been weeks since you've let me touch you."

He didn't look at her. It was clear he couldn't.

"Maybe," he echoed in a hollow voice. "Now hurry up and get dressed. I want to leave in the next hour."

She nodded, standing and meekly slinking to the bathroom and shutting the door. When she had disappeared he went back into the closet, mind consumed by Leolin again. He felt disgusted with himself for letting Gen manipulate him into touching her like that, and he needed something of Leolin to hold onto. The problem was he didn't have anything left. Unless...

He went to the case of cufflinks and began to open every door, checking box after velvet box, each filled with winking gems. He crouched the reach the bottom drawer, which was full of pairs he never wore and watches he felt had fallen out of style. He pushed his hand to the back, his fingers closing around a box that somehow felt familiar. Carefully he popped open the lid, and instantly his heart felt buoyant.

He ran his thumb over the small falcon stamped on the face of the pendant. It had been years since he'd seen or worn it, but somehow he knew he still had it. He hesitated. Putting it on would only torture him. It would be an albatross around his neck. However, perhaps that's what he was craving after all. Something to keep the pain of Leolin's loss fresh. The pain was all he had left, and it was infinitely better than nothing. He slipped the pendant from the box and put it around his neck, admiring the way it glinted in the soft light. He heard Gen approaching the door and he quickly stuffed it in his shirt while nudging the drawer closed.

"What are you doing in here?" she queried, dropping her towel and sauntering to her lingerie chest.

He looked away, not wanting to have to look at her naked form again.

"I was looking for this pair of cuff links."

"Why?" she pressed. "You don't even have cuffs today."

"I don't know, I just suddenly wondered if I still had them."

She turned, wearing a nude bra and lavender knickers.

"And do you?"

"No," he said at once, watching as she put on a crisp white oxford and tucked it into a peached-coloured skirt. He was a bit annoyed. These were tense times; peach didn't really seem appropriate.

She slipped into nude heels with a bow on the toe box and he fought not to scream. Finally she affixed an ostentatious necklace dripping with diamonds around her neck. He'd given to her on her twenty-fourth birthday.

"How do I look?" she asked, spinning so the skirt fanned out.

He nodded tightly, feeling drained again. He didn't have the energy to fend off her insidious little machinations.

"Beautiful, like always."

She smirked.

"You're too much, darling," she said, seemingly pleased things were going her way.

"I'm just enough," he replied stiffly. "Let's go. I don't want to be late."

She took his proffered hand, allowing him to sweep her down the stairs and to the waiting floo.

---

Genevieve stood in the shower, fretting as she so often did these days. Despite what Draco had just done to her, she felt a million miles away from him.

Merlin, what was she going to do? She felt tears welling up and she didn't fight them. Everything she'd built, everything she'd won, was based on a lie. She being losing a little bit of Draco every day since Leolin had arrived back in London nearly a year before. It had literally began the night of their engagement party when Leolin swept in in that resplendent red gown and stolen her dance with Draco. Yes, he'd hated her then, but suddenly she'd gone from a memory to a reality, and Gen could feel the ground beneath her feet quaking. There was a period of time after that where Gen knew she was still in control, and the beginning of South Carolina had been blissful. Draco worshipped her even as he tortured Leolin, and Gen held all the cards. However, that bliss seemed destined not to last.

She firmly told herself when Draco took Leolin to London that he loved her and would never dream of betraying her. However, he did just that. She could tell by the way he was acting when they arrived back at the beach house that something had happened, and as adoring as Draco had been to Gen the next day, she knew part of him remained in London with whatever had transpired between him and Leolin.

By the time they arrived in New Orleans she could feel him slipping through her fingers. He and Leolin seemed to find ways to spend more and more time alone together, and it killed Gen. Then, of course, there was the incident with the sectumsempra. Draco had been in a right state, and Gen was fairly sure she could have left the manor that day and he wouldn't have noticed. He stayed and wept at Leolin's bedside when he thought no one was looking, repeating "l love you" over and over again.

The saving grace had been Blaise, who had sternly reminded Draco that Leolin had left once and she could easily leave again. This thrust Draco back into Gen's waiting arms, but somehow it still wasn't quite the same.

That was when she decided, in desperation, to take matters into her own hands. The minute they returned from New Orleans, Gen began trying to get pregnant, though it was an uphill battle from the start. Draco touched her less and less frequently, and even though she'd gone off the potion, they weren't having nearly enough sex, and seemingly never having it at the right time. She kept vigilant track of her ovulation, trying desperately to seduce him when she knew she was most likely to get pregnant, but it never seemed to work. The harder she drove towards him, the more he pulled away. She'd found a way to slip him charms to temper the effects of the potion he was taking, which was admittedly much less potent that the female potion, but she knew after several weeks it wasn't enough, and that was when she moved on to plan B.

It was perhaps ironic that in an effort to win Draco back, she began desperately trying to get pregnant with Ashley instead. Or perhaps it wasn't. She needed Draco too badly to give up, and by that time she would have done anything to keep him from Leolin, even if that meant breaking his heart a little in the process. In the end she knew she could repair it again, and they would be both be happier for her manipulations. Ashley, for his part, was an eager participant, and he reveled in the opportunity to touch her again. It was hard to bare on her end, feeling always sick the minute he began taking off her clothes, but she reminded herself it would be a small price to pay if it worked. He always remained inside her for minutes after, tilting her hips up and softly thrusting for maximum chance of conception. She often cried during these sessions, her eyes squeezed shut as Ashley grunted his pleasure. For her part, she forced herself not to feel aroused, which made the whole ordeal that much more disgusting.

And despite all the heartache, in the end it still hadn't been enough. She cried every time her period came, forcing her to face reality. The clock was running down, and when it struck zero she would lose Draco to Leolin once and for all. The problem was that she didn't know quite when that would be, and she had to be on her guard while simultaneously trying to turn the situation around. As weeks passed, she realised she had to go to plan C.

She'd invented an excuse to come back from Greece early, and she'd immediately stolen away to Knockturn one afternoon to the darkest apothecary in London. An ancient shriveled crone stood behind the worn oak counter.

"What do you need?" she rasped.

Gen bit her lip.

"I need—a pregnancy test."

"Didn't have to come here for that," the crone pointed out. "What is it you really need?"

"I need to fake one," Gen admitted. "I need to pass one and for it to show up positive."

The crone gave a rotting toothy grin.

"That's more like it," she wheezed. "Come with me."

She brewed a dark and bitter potion, handing it to Gen.

"Take this every day. It will fool up to twenty tests. Surely he won't need more proof than that, but if he does, come back."

She hoped she wouldn't have to use it, but she would eventually be grateful she'd thought to go when she did, because in Germany the clock struck zero at last.

When she laid eyes on Leolin at the ball , her dress the same shade of vermillion she'd worn to the engagement party, she knew her race was run. She tried her best to keep Draco away from Leolin, but Max needed her as well, and as much as it pained her, she knew her duty to the cause outweighed her duty to her own happiness. When Draco arrived back at their suite around midnight, she could tell something major had happened. He met her eyes, and his overwhelming love for Leolin shone brightly in them. He said nothing, clearly still warring with himself, but Gen knew what the next morning would bring.

Still, she'd received a second chance. When hell broke loose, Draco wasn't given time to find Leolin, and he and Gen fled alone. When they arrived back at the villa in Greece he'd made furious love to her on the floor, and even though he was picturing Leolin instead of her, she reveled in the experience all the same. After he got out of bed that night she downed the first of the false pregnancy potions.

The potion had done its duty, fooling even the healer Marina, and it forced the vulnerable Draco into the position she most needed him to be in. He had struggled against her at first, but as the sun had gone down that evening, he'd already agreed to the contact that would bind him to her for good. It was perhaps a hollow victory, not nearly as sweet as she'd imagined, but she knew in her heart that she'd won.

That was, if she could rectify the situation in time. It was all well and good to pass the test, but at some point her belly needed to swell in truth. Without any contraception in their way, Gen tried to copulate with Draco as many times as she could. There was still time to achieve the best possible solution. There was still time to bear Draco's son after all. However, as she looked down, the water tinted rose as it ran between her thighs, she began to sob. She still wasn't pregnant, and if his morning was any indication, Draco was pulling away despite the baby. He never ever wanted to have sex anymore, as if the very idea of her repulsed him. This was where the panic set in.

Merlin, what the fuck was she going to do? Frankly, she didn't have a clue. Still, she needed something, and fast. Today was the first time Draco would come face to face with Leolin, and she fretted what might happen. She only prayed Leolin would be vitriolic, because Draco certainly wouldn't be.

She slipped out of the shower and fixed her hair and makeup before going to the closet. Draco seemed in the middle of something suspicious when she entered, and she noted the chain around his neck; he never wore jewelry.

She dropped her towel and try to entice him, but he barely looked at her. She did her best to remain cheerful as she dressed, but it was difficult. She knew his mind was miles away, and it wasn't difficult to guess where. Finally she was ready, and having no more reason to delay, she took his arm and allowed them to apparate away.

---

By the time Draco and Gen arrived at the safe house, he felt sick to his stomach. He looked immediately around for Leolin as they entered, and he couldn't decide if he was devastated or relieved to find she'd yet to arrive. The Borgias, who he sure would be murderous upon seeing him, were luckily not there either, and he made his way to Ginny and Blaise instead. Blaise shook his hand reassuringly as they approached, but Ginny gave him a cool look that grew downright chilly as Gen came to stand at his side. Her brother Ron and the pregnant Hermione were there as well, but Draco pretended they weren't. He had no interest in dealing with Ron Weasley at the moment.

"How are you?" Blaise asked, taking Ginny's hand to stop her glaring but otherwise ignoring Gen.

"I'm fine," Draco said more curtly than he'd intended to. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You tell us," Ginny said, eying Gen with distain.

"I'm fine," he repeated, trying not to be too agitated by Ginny's behaviour, particularly because he was itching to side with her.

"Have you heard anything from Kelly Troy?" Hermione queried, a hand on her stomach. Out of all the former Gryffindors, she seemed the most determined to put her past with Draco behind her, despite the fact that he didn't seem capable of doing the same.

"No," he said in a flat voice. "That's Brankovitch's arena, not mine."

"What about any of the others," Ginny pressed. "Adrian or Torrii or any of them."

"Nothing," he repeated. "Adrian's still sulking about—"

He paused, clearing his throat and adjusting his glasses. The painful constriction in his throat had caught him off guard.

"Leolin," Gen supplied solidly. "It's so beastly."

"Is she safe?" Hermione said, sounding worried.

"She was hiding out with the Borgias in Rome," Ginny answered, giving Gen a cold look. "She's back here and safe now. He doesn't have a prayer of reaching her."

"That's good news," Hermione said.

"Isn't it?" Gen said, feeling particularly bold and giving Draco an almost triumphant look he latently longed to slap from her face. "We have been so worried about her."

"Stop," Ginny snapped, body tensing for a fight. "I mean it."

"Gin—" Blaise began, but Ginny didn't relent.

"What's going on?" Ron asked thickly.

"What do you mean?" Gen said softly, very convincingly feigning ignorance.

"Haven't you done enough already?" Ginny spit at Gen, ignoring Ron's question. "And you look ridiculous in that bright colour. This is neither the time or the place for that bollocks."

"I'm pregnant," Gen reminded her in a cool but vaguely smug voice. "I can do as I please."

"So am I," Ginny bit back. "That won't stop me from kicking the living shit out of you."

"Ginevra," Blaise said gently. "That's enough."

Ginny rounded on Draco.

"Are you honestly telling me you think this is appropriate, Drake? Merlin's beard, it's like you're going to a funeral and she's going to a bleeding garden party!"

"Gen's right," Draco said stiffly, voice tinged in pain. "She can do what she likes. I'm not going to stop her."

"Of course you aren't," Ginny bit out at him.

"Why are you being like this?" Gen pressed, leaning into Draco for support even as he stiffened.

"What did you expect me to say, after what you pulled on Leolin?" Ginny demanded.

"A congratulations wouldn't go amiss," Gen supplied, eyes glittering hatefully.

"That's bang out of order and you know it," Ron growled. He didn't seem to know what was going on with Ginny and Gen, but the Weasleys were nothing if not unfailingly loyal, and he was eager to join Ginny's team.

"I congratulated you, didn't I?" Draco said lazily, seeming almost relieved for something as familiar as fighting with Ron.

"I don't believe you did, no," Ron bit out.

"Well congratulations," Draco said sarcastically. "If there's one thing this world needs, it's more Weasleys."

"Why are you still here?" Ginny demanded. "Go away. The pair of you."

Draco sneered, wounded by her vitriol.

"I'm afraid I also do as I please."

"Go away," Ginny repeated to Draco, though it was clear that she was actually talking to Gen.

"Why are you being like this?" Gen asked in pain, touching her stomach delicately. "What did I ever do to you?"

"How dare you say that to me," Giny warned. "You know exactly what you've done."

"Ginevra," Blaise said sternly. "Not now."

"Don't tell me what to do," Ginny demanded hotly at Blaise, pushing his hand off of her. "And I am done putting up with Gen's emotional terrorism and blackmail!"

Gen frowned outright.

"No one is blackmailing anyone," she snapped.

"Are you serious?" Ginny sneered. "Tell that to the contract you forced Drake into signing, you little viper."

"Ginny," Draco intervened, face a mixture of irritated and anguished. "That's enough. Please."

Gen looked at least dully pleased to have Draco defend her, though she'd clearly been hoping for a more passionate defense.

"I'm done anyways," Ginny said curtly to Gen. "I have nothing to say to you or your crony."

She was talking about Max, who'd just entered looking ill-at-ease. He glanced around for a friendly face, but without Felix, who'd yet to arrive, the only ally he had was Gen. Ginny's frown deepened as Gen smiled at him and he cautiously approached. He seemed particularly wary of Draco, though neither he nor Ginny seemed quite sure why.

"Genny," he said, smiling warmly. "How do you feel? You look great; you're glowing."

Ginny and Draco both clenched their jaws at this.

"I feel wonderful," she answered blithely, making Ron roll his eyes. "How are you?" Gen continued.

Max nodded, eyes sweeping the room again. Something seemed to weighing on his mind, or his conscience, perhaps, making him uneasy.

"I can't complain."

"Are you sure, darling? You look nervous."

He shook his head.

"I'm fine. I just—" he began wearily, but he was interrupted by the door of the room swinging violently open.

Severina Borgia swept in like a tempest, and she looked like a terrifying demi-goddess from some dark lore. Her obsidean eyes were flashing, red lips skinned back and white teeth bared.

"You," she snarled at Max, drawing her wand immediately.

Max and he must have known what was coming because he drew his wand as well. However, he was too late. She was already hurling her first curse.

"Serpentsortia," she hissed, and a black mamba appeared between Max's feet. Before he could react it struck twice, crippling him as the venom moved quickly upward.

"Are you crazy, Borgia?" Gen demanded. "Stop it!"

However, Max wasn't to be counted out. He used his wand to draw the dark poison before hurling it at Severina. She deflected it with a flick of her wrist before hurling another.

"Crucio," she purred.

It glanced off Max's protego, but still he winced. He hurled two in a row, and the first bounced off her shield and the second hit its mark.

"Anteoculatia"

She cried out and bent double, and when she straightened ugly horns protruded from her perfect hair.

"Severina!" Xavier cried, flinging a curse at Max that he also deflected. He had been well-taught.

Xavier raised his wand to strike again, but Felix had appeared now and he stepped in and blocked the hex.

"Get out of my way, little man," Xavier sneered, but Felix didn't relent.

"What's going on?" Felix demanded, blocking a second of Xavier's hexes but otherwise making no move to counterattack.

"Stay out of this," Xavier snarled, looking as terrifying as Severina.

By this time Severina had recovered, and she hurled another curse at Max.

"Caro ardeat" she said, still wincing from the horns.

Max cried out and clamped a hand to his neck, the flesh there already sizzling and black. The smell of burning flesh filled the room, and he fell to the floor, Gen collapsing to the floor at his side.

"Stop!" Gen screamed, trying to prying his hand from the wound to help him.

Severina didn't listen, raising her wand to deliver another devastating blow.

"Enough," Draco said, stepping in front of Gen protectively and casting a protective shield. "You're going to kill him, Borgia."

Gen had finally managed to pull Max's hand away so she could help him, but even after Gen had stopped the burn from worsening, he laid heaving and trembling on the floor. The wound continued to smoke and hiss.

"Good," Severina spit in response to Draco's utterance. "He deserves it."

"What are you on about?" Draco demanded, watching Severina's wand steadily as he continued to shield the pregnant Gen from Severina's direct wrath.

"He's as bad as Pucey," Severina accused. "He says he's our ally, but he stabbed us in the back. He stabbed Leolin in the back."

"What do you mean?" Ginny said, sounding fiercely concerned herself.

Severina gave her ally an almost sad glance. She knew what she was about to say was going to hurt Ginny as much as it had hurt Severina.

"After he lied to us and turned Troy over, he and Leolin got drunk and he seduced her into his bed to assuage his selfish guilt."

Draco Leonardian wand as well, training it on Max.

"Is that true?" he snarled quietly, approaching now as well.

"Draco!" Gen fretted, trying to protect Max now without stepping directly into the path of Draco's wand.

"Kill him, Malfoy," Xavier said coolly. He'd lowered his wand for the time being, but his glittering eye were still keen to see more blood spilled.

"Malfoy, stop," Felix agreed, trying to protect Max, who was still lying on the ground. "What good is any of this doing?"

"Draco please!" Gen chimed in, rising to her feet and officially blocking his path.

"Get out of my way," he demanded as Max rolled onto hands and knees, still trembling.

Felix stood dutifully at his friend's side, wand flicking between Draco and the Borgias, none of whom had yet to relent. If any of the three of them got a clear shot, Max would be dead in a final heartbeat.

"It wasn't like that," Max pleaded hoarsely. "Please!"

"Draco!" Gen cried again.

"Genevieve," he spit. "Step aside."

"No," she whimpered, clearly pained that he wouldn't acquiesce to her.

"I never meant to hurt her," Max said. "We were drunk and I—"

"Cruci—"

"Stop it, all of you!"

Leolin herself had finally emerged through the double doors. Draco's wand hand fell and his eyebrows synched together as he drank her in. She looked more beautiful that ever, and his throat tightened painfully again.

"Please," Leolin said quietly to him, eyes teeming with hurt. "No more."

"No, ho intenzione di ucciderlo," Severina snarled.

"Fermalo," Leolin repeated firmly, easing Severina's wrist down. "Per favore."

Severina nodded, but she and Xavier remained fierce. Leolin ignored them, going hesistantly to Max instead. She studied him a moment before extending a hand to him. He eyed it warily, looking guiltier than ever, but eventually he took it, wincing as he rose.

"Hermione," Leolin said, studying Max's sweating face and smouldering wound with a mixture of concern and distain. "Help him. Please."

Hermione nodded, and Severina's lip curled again.

"Dovrebbe tenerlo," she spit.

"No," Leolin said, glancing at Draco now and wanting nothing more than to run into his arms. "Please, I can't take any more fighting."

"Thank you, " Max croaked as Hermione gently prodded at him. "I know I didn't deserve that."

"No," Leolin agreed sadly, watching Gen with contempt as she gravitated back to Draco, who reacted stiffly to her warmth at his side. "Maybe not. But I'm done hating you. I just don't have the strength anymore."

"I do," Xavier snarled quietly. "Yo serîa feliz a tomar tu manto."

Leolin shook her head.

"No," she repeated. "Please, if you any of you love me, you'll let it go."

This seemed to draw the fight from all three of them, and when Severina's expression softened, Leolin folded back into her and Xavier's protective embrace.

"Me despiace, cariña," she said penitently.

"I know," Leolin said in response, unable to keep herself from glancing at Draco again. "I appreciate your loyalty, but Brankovitch isn't our enemy."

"I'm not so sure I agree anymore," Ginny sneered at Max.

Max bowed his head, and Leolin could see the guilt, feel it rising off of him like waves of heat. As angry and bitter as she still felt, she felt pity as well. He'd used her, she knew that, but she also knew he hadn't intended to, and the truth was he'd known a loss more bitter than any of the rest of them had, and it was clear it was still plaguing him.

As they all stood heaving, emotions running so high the temperature in the room seemed to have risen ten degrees, the door opened again and Regan Sharpe appeared.

"Sorry I'm late," she said in a bored tone. "What did I—Merlin!" She widened her mismatched eyes at Max. "What the hell happened to you, Yankee Doodle?"

"Stay out of this," Blaise warned.

"That's not really in my nature," Reagan bit out flippantly. "And I think given the number of time I've had to suck Quinn's nob for you lot, I deserve some answers."

"Please," Felix implored, torn between helping Max and following his natural instinct of protecting Leolin. "You're not helping."

Reagan eyed him distainfully. She seemed to be sensing his guilt, and she curled her lip.

"I don't take orders from you. What's going on?"

"None of your business," Gen said tightly.

Reagan narrowed her eyes at Gen, reading the tension between her and Draco before letting her mismatched gaze slide to Leolin.

"The hell it isn't," she spit finally. "Lefevre, what the fuck is going on?"

"Fallout from Kelly Troy's abduction," Leolin replied in a true but evasive statement.

"And who did that to your neck?" she asked Max, who was still wincing as Hermione muttered healing spells.

"I—"

"What the hell happened here?" Tieran demanded.

He, Pansy, Harry, Grace and the rest of the group had entered now. Cara was with them too, looking frail and worn, though her gaze hardened as she drank in Max's injuries. She was tucked under Grace's arm, looked ready to fall completely apart.

"No one wants to say," Reagan replied to Tieran. "But if I had to guess, either Malfoy or one of the Borgias tried to take a piece out of Brankovitch."

"Knock it off," Tieran said, first addressing Reagan's snark and then the group more generally. "All of you. We don't have time for this."

His eyes settled on Leolin somewhat coincidentally and Xavier snarled at him, a lion protecting his cub.

"Who do you think you are, coming in here and handing down orders?" He demanded imperiously. "Stay out of this. It doesn't concern you."

"Everything that happens here concerns us," Pansy pointed out without malice. "Please, now is not the time for fighting."

Severina gave Pansy a cool look, but Leolin nodded. She could still feel Draco's eyes on her, along with Felix's, and she felt positively sick to her stomach.

"Pans is right, Xavy. We need to stop all this. It's the only way."

"I agree with Leolin," Gen said, leaning into Draco. He tensed but didn't otherwise react.

Leolin turned, giving Gen the coldest look she'd been able to muster since arriving.

"Don't," she whispered fiercely, heart throbbing like it was ready to give out. "I'm warning you."

"How dare you threaten me," Gen sniffed. "And you were the one who just said now wasn't the time for fighting," Gen bit back.

"Fuck you," Ginny snarled.

Gen made to retort, but Draco intervened.

"Genevieve," he said imperiously. "Enough."

"I just—" she began.

"Well don't," Harry interrupted. "You have your prize, Beauchene. For once let that be enough for you."

Gen seemed cowed by this comment, and it made Leolin's stomach hurt. She looked at Draco again, silently imploring him to fight back against his chains. However, he only gave her a pained expression in exchange, and she shook her head and looked away.

The tension seemed to disperse somewhat, and Dean Thomas , a relative newcomer, gave an audible exhale.

"Thank Merlin that's over," he said softly.

"If you really believe that then you're deluding yourself, " Ieuan replied. "It gets worse every time."

"Enough," Tieran demanded, disgusted. "It makes me sick the way all of you gang up on each other. No one gives a damn about house rivalries or personal grudges. We're all on the same side now, and every second we spend bickering is a second fucking wasted. Honestly, you think Pucey and his crew carry on like this?"

"No," Reagan said dryly. "That lot are all Slytherins."

"Oh fuck off," Pansy sneered.

"I agree," Gen said sympathetically. "It's so stressful!"

'No," Tieran said seriously. "You're just the worse of the lot. Stop trying to torture Lefevre. It's petty and cruel and I can't bare to listen to it anymore. And you," he snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at Max. "Betrayed our trust. So if you don't want us to hand you over to Pucey as well, you ought to start atoning."

"Anyone else you're like to dress down?" Blaise said mildly.

Tieran clenched his jaw.

"Not as the moment."

Another tense silence reigned.

"Well!" Reagan said at last, kicking her feet on the table and leaning smugly back in her chair. "That was quite sobering!"

"Stop it," Draco warned, clearly run ragged by everything that had just happened. He was also still itching for to get his hands on Max, and it had made of an unstable cocktail. "Either wipe that stupid smirk off your face and help us or get the hell out."

"Who are you to give me orders?" Reagan asked coldly.

"Get out," Ginny demanded, pointing a finger to the door. "Seriously, just get out."

Reagan dropped her feet to the floor and stood as well.

"Fine," she snapped. "But don't expect me to walk back through that fucking door."

"Ray," Ieuan said, gripping her wrist. "You know better than anyone how serious this all is. Please, stop hiding behind this veneer and help us. Please."

Reagan eased back into her chair, letting her eye flash milky white for a moment so Ginny and Draco could take in her jagged sank back down, transformed.

"Right," Harry said after everyone had calmed down a little. "Where were we?"

"We have this," Leolin said flicking a wrist and producing her obol, which hung mid-air and swung in slow rotation for all of them to see. "And with it the distinct advantage."

"Adrian doesn't know?" Grace asked.

Leolin shook her head.

"He knows we have the painting, obviously, but after Tommy died, he was too torn up to keep on the hunt. When we went to fetch them, he was nowhere to be found; if he'd known he would have been all over us."

"So what do we do with them?" Dean Thomas asked.

"Destroy them," Felix replied.

"Easier said than done," Leolin said, eying him warily.

"What about fiendfyre?" Ron offered. "That destroyed the horcruxes. Or basilisk venom."

Leolin shook her head.

"These coins aren't from our world. I mean, they were forged for a on Earth is going to have the power to destroy them."

"So where does that leave us?" Hermione said.

"I'm working on it," Leolin said. "We think the answer is in Greece. One of my thieves is going there now."

"What about Adrian?" Harry asked. "Do you have any idea how far behind you he is in all this?"

"He still thinks the coins are up for grabs," Max supplied hoarsely, speaking for the first time.

"How do you know that?" Draco demanded in a searing tone.

"Annalysse told us he's still looking," Felix said in a quiet voice, trying and failing to catch Leolin's eye.

"Unless he broke Troy and knows everything," Blaise spit.

Cara bowed her head, face anguished.

"He didn't," Max defended, looking pained by Cara's distress. "And besides, Lefevre stole the coins after he was taken. Even if—"

"Don't you even dare finish that sentence," Cara snarled quietly through the stricture in her throatf. "Or I'll kill you myself."

"Kelly knew what he was doing," Oliver Wood pointed out. "He would never given something about the coins away."

"Yeah," Blaise said. "Unless he—"

"Stop it," Cara said hoarsely. "Please. Haven't you said enough?"

Everyone looked cowed.

"I'm sorry, Troy," Max choked out finally. "I know—"

"You don't know anything," Cara snarled, in tears now. "And keep your apologies; I'm never going to forgive you for what you've done."

"Kelly knew the risks," Max replied foolisgly. "He did this for us. For you."

"Don't you dare say his name in front of me!" Cara demanded. "My husband might die because of you. I may not be allowed to kill you, but I'm not going to suffer your pathetic excuses for what you did to him."

Max bowed his head, and Grace took Cara's hand as the anger faded and she began to shake, desperately fighting the urge to cry.

Everyone watched her with pained expressions, non one more so than Leolin.

"While Lefevre looks for the coins and we wait for Troy to come back—"

"Which he will," Grace assured Cara.

"What should we doing in the meantime?" Seamus asked.

"Shoring up support, " Tieran said. "Has anyone heard from that cockney bloke?"

"Jackie?" Blaise said. "He said Adrian's been doing some quiet recruiting. Luring guys like Jackie in with galleons and girls in exchange for information."

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

"That we need to be careful with any information we get," Draco said. "People like that will take any table scraps. We can't let them have any."

"What about Quinn?" Tieran said, looking at Reagan.

For once her face was sober.

"He's Adrian's new errand boy. He's shuffling information from Adrian to the minister. I haven't gotten much out of him, but the bits I do have are really troubling."

"What is it?" Draco said.

"Pucey's been trying to stop up a leak in the Malfoy administration for years, and he's finally got traction. He knows it's a Yank operation, and he's closing in on the top dog he's been hunting for years. He and Thivierge have been picking off weak links, and they haven't gotten much, but they've been piecing it together bit by bit.

The Americans have a huge network, bigger than we know, and they woven the web just right. Each manager is the secret keeper of all his underlings, which keeps them from spilling or ratting. The leader is the secret keeper for his top lieutenants, and he keeps them close. Additionally, he has a man outside the organization that protects his identity. If what Jaime's saying is true, Pucey has zeroed in on the outside man, and he's going to squeeze him until he buckles. Once he does, the whole house of cards goes down. They get the leader, they get every undercover agent in the organisation. They'll be dominos."

Gen tensed, but no one seemed to notice.

"You keep saying 'he'," Ginny pointed out. "How are you so sure that either of them is a man?"

Reagan shrugged.

"I don't know. Just statistically speaking, I guess."

"I think that's unnecessarily presumptuous," Ginny said in a haughty voice.

"C'mon Gin," Blaise said. "This isn't the time to stand on feminist principle."

Ginny frowned, but everyone else ignored her.

"How many people are we talking here?" Tieran said, looking across the table at Reagan.

Reagan's green eye flashed.

"A hundred," Adrian thinks. "Maybe more."

"Did you know about this?" Leolin asked Max in a hard voice.

"Yes," he admitted hoarsely, looking ashamed again.

"You snake," Cara bit out. "Is there anything you've been honest with us about?"

"I'm sorry," Max repeated for what seemed like the millionth time. "But this is very sensitive operation. If Pucey pokes even one hole, the whole organisation is going to topple."

"You lied to us, and now you're accusing us for being enemy spies?" Blaise snarled. "You have some fucking cheek."

"I'm not accusing you of anything," Max amended. "I just—this is bigger than all of us."

"Where are you in the chain of command?" Draco demanded.

Max's gaze slid over Gen, but it didn't rest there.

"I—can't say. It would require disabling a whole network of secret keepers."

"Do you know the leader?" Ieuan asked.

"Blimey," Dean chimed. "Are you the leader?"

Max shook his head resolutely.

"But do you know him?" Ieuan pressed.

Here he and Gen traded another glance, but it won't again went unnoticed.

"No one but the secret keeper knows him."

"And you know the secret keeper?"

He considered before speaking. Finally he answered, "his identity is the biggest secret in the wizarding world. Only the leader knows him, and only the secret keeper could reveal the identity of the leader. It's a neat little package. All it's missing is a bow."

"That's clever," Dean admitted.

"That's American ingenuity," Max corrected.

"Still," Harry breathed. "This is a nightmare in the making. If the outside man buckling, ever single agent is in danger. The leader will be a sitting duck, and everyone along with him."

"There's a gala in six weeks," Felix said. "At the American embassy. It is the only safe haven in the city right now. We have to go and tie up the official support from the American government. It's time."

They all nodded their agreement.

"Will—" Leolin took a breath meant to steady herself. In reality it only made her feel more shaky. "Should we assume Pucey's crew is going to be there?"

Max set his jaw, looking guilty again as he drank in her obvious trepidation.

"They shouldn't be. He has nothing to gain and everything to lose by tangling with the American Embassy before he's ready."

Leolin could feel Draco's eyes on her, gaze protective and pained in equal measure, but she didn't have the heart to look at him.

"That doesn't mean he won't try it anyways," Tieran said. "We have to tread carefully in the meantime."

"We'll know more when Troy comes back," Felix pointed out.

There was a pregnant silent. If he came back, Leolin knew they were all thinking. She glanced at Cara, who's expression was grim but impassive, almost as if she no longer had the energy to be sad or scared.

"What's our plan, besides the coins?" Harry asked, seemingly unwilling to prolong Cara's agony by dwelling on poor Kelly. "We need to be thinking ahead."

"We also need to think about what it might look like to dismantle Adrian's crew," Blaise reasoned. "If we can peel back some of his support, we might be able to find the weak underbelly."

"I think the top priority ought to be Thivierge and her reign of bloody terror," Draco said. "She's clever and power-hungry, and once Pucey finds out we have the coins, it's going to be her he sends to stop us. Our best chance at success is making sure Thivierge is out of the way."

"Easier said than done," Ginny pointed out. "She's nasty and she's been well-taught. She would have killed Leolin at the manor if Blake hadn't stepped in."

"She might be the only person equipped to handle Thivierge," Ieuan reasoned. "She's the one who knows her best."

Max shook his head firmly.

"No. No way. We can't afford to lose her position on the inside."

"Isn't that why you sent Troy in?" Blaise snapped.

"Blaise," Ginny warned, shooting a quick glance at Cara.

"No, he's right," Oliver agreed in a cold voice. "What's the point of having her on the inside if she's not going to do any damage for us."

"She's done plenty of damage," Max demanded. "She killed Tommy Pucey."

"Bloody lot of good that did us," Draco snapped.

"Saved your bacon," Max said back, eying Draco with a cold contempt.

"Fuck you," Draco snarled, drawing his wand. "Don't talk back to me. I still have half a mind to kill you."

"Drake!" Gen said in a fretful tone, touching his arm pleadingly. "Let it go."

"Enough," Grace said, looking at both Draco and Max before stealing a glance at Leolin. "This isn't helping. If it can't be Blake that takes Thivierge down, then we just need to find someone else to."

"Leave her to me," Reagan said arrogantly. "I'll put her in her place."

"I don't think you have any idea what you're dealing with," Harry warned. "She's a rare beast, that one."

"So am I," Reagan said grimly. "And I'm much tougher than I look. When the times right, I'll be ready for her."

Felix glanced at her appreciatively.

"Always full of surprises, Sharpe," he said in admiration.

"Don't look at me like that," she commanded. "And only a bitch can topple a bitch," she said. "Lucky for you lot, I'm the biggest bitch that ever lived."

"We'll see about that," Draco said somewhat flippantly.

Reagan wrinkled her noise in disgust.

"Maybe you'll like to see just how much of a bitch I can be, Malfoy," Reagan said with venom.

"Oh bloody hell," Harry grumbled. "Let's not start this up again."

"And you're really going to sit here and tell us that you aren't always the problem?" Ron demanded of Draco.

"Stop," Pansy interjected before the fight could gain any more momentum. "For the love of Merlin. We can't have any more fighting. We're on thin ice as it is. If we fight each other, Adrian wins."

"What about the rest of his crew?" Dean Thomas asked. "Who besides Thivierge?"

"Rawle. He's Adrian's closest ally. Taking him off the board would be a major victory."

"I think we can help," Severina said, glancing at Xavier.

"Borgia," Draco said in a bored voice, their alliance from earlier long forgotten. "You can't solve every problem by batting your fucking eyelashes."

"I'm more than that and you know it," she sniped. "Xavier and I are a big prize, and Rawle knows the only time he'll be able to catch us in here in London. He wouldn't dare step foot in Rome."

"So what's the play?" Dean asked, eying the Borgias warily.

"We let him get dangerously close here and chase us back to Italy. Once we're home we spring the trap. He'll be lost to Adrian. Lucius would never be so bold to come into our territory. That's a war all its own."

"Do you honestly think that would work?" Blaise asked.

Severina raised a perfect eyebrow.

"Have you ever known me to fail, Zabini?"

"It's a gamble," Pansy agreed. "But I think it's a good one. Tate's always been over-eager. If you give him a chance at a score this big, he's not likely to refuse."

"That will have to wait until after the Embassy" Max said. "We need you here for the time being."

"Don't you dare tell me what to do," Severina snarled at him. "I don't take orders from you, strisciamento."

Max flushed, unsure how to defend against whatever she'd accused him of being.

"It wasn't an order," Max amended. "But we need you two to stay on help secure defenses her in the UK."

"I have children," Severina said. "No one keeps me from them, least of all you."

"I wasn't trying to—"

"Just give up, Brankovitch," Pansy snapped. "This is not a fight you're going to win, particularly with Borgia. Just can it."

Max clenched his jaw, ready to bite back. However, when he looked at Leolin, the fight seemed to bleed out of him, and he did as he was bid.

"Alright," Harry said, trying to suppress another fight. "Is there any allies we've overlooked? Anyone we haven't thought of who might be able to help?"

"I have one," Ieuan said. "But I'm pretty sure you aren't going to like it."

"Who is it?" Blaise asked. "We'll decide if we like him or not ourselves."

Ieuan bit his lip.

"Gareth Rhydderich."

"No," Draco burst, eyes flitting to Leolin. "Absolutely fucking not."

"Look, I know we all find him distasteful, but he served four years in Azkaban for what he did to Leolin," Ieuan said diplomatically

"He could serve four thousand years and it wouldn't be enough," Draco snarled.

"I saw him about two months ago, and honestly wouldn't recognise him. Prison has changed him," Ieuan continued.

"He's playing you, Birdie!" Draco insisted. "He wants back in so he can settle old scores."

"You didn't see him!" Ieuan protested. "I did. I'm not saying we have to welcome him back with open arms, but he's not without his merits. Besides, you heard what Tommy did to Merys; he's not going to flip on us after that."

"Lai?" Ginny said softly. "What do you think?"

She suffered so many ills since Gareth, she felt no stir of trepidation or fear at the mention of his name.

"I think I have to agree with Malfoy," Oliver said, voice cold. "Gareth's a liar. We could never trust him."

"I agree," Felix thirded, looking at Leolin with longing. "Particularly after what he's done."

It tugged at her, but she avoided looking at him.

"Stay out of this," she warned him in a soft voice.

"Leolin—"

"I mean it," she said, still considering. "And I don't think we should reject this outright," she said at last.

"What?" Draco demanded, sounding almost angry. "Leolin, you can't be serious!"

"Four years is along time," she pointed out, glad her voice wasn't quaking. "He's not going to be the same arrogant snot he was all those years ago, particularly after for years with only deatheaters and dementors for company. Besides, he's been on the inside for years. He undoubtedly has information about Lucius's plan to liberate his incarcerated servants. That means your mum, Sharpe."

Fear flashed in Reagan's eyes, but she masked it with a sneer.

"Leolin," Blaise said pleadingly. "You don't have to do this."

"I know," she said. "And what he did was awful, but we need his help; I think you lot know that."

"No," Draco said curtly. "I don't. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever."

Reagan considered.

"If Lefevre wants to face him then I don't think we should stand in her way. She's tougher than you think, Malfoy."

"I know that," Draco said in a softer tone, eyes pleading as he drank Leolin in again. "But that doesn't change how I feel."

Leolin bowed her head, and Gen, desperate to interrupt th moment, threaded a snake-like arm through Draco's, nails ghosting along his bicep in a psuedo-soothing gesture. He tensed.

"We'll table it for now," Tieran agreed, watching Gen work in mild contempt. "As much as it sickens me to say it, I don't think we should just reject him outright, either."

"Who else?" Harry pressed. "Preferably someone who's not a rapist."

"I have one," Max said hesitantly. "But I don't anticipate you're going to be any more psyched about on my pick."

"Probably not," Blaise drawled. "By why don't you let us be the judges of that. Who did you have in mind?"

The doors burst open.

"My," Beau said, striding boastfully in. "But I do believe my ears are burning."

"Not just no," Ginny sneered. "Hell no. Get this piece of trash out of here, Brankovitch."

"Now Ginevra my angel," Beau drawled. "Is that any way to treat your new ally?"

"Say one more thing, Taylor," Blaise warned. "I'd love an excuse to shred you to fucking bits."

"Relax General," Beau said, raising his hands innocently as his hooded eyes found Blaise. "I come in peace."

"Oh bloody hell," Ieaun growled. "Here we go again."

"Beau!" Gen admonished. "Why can you never behave? Honestly, don't be such a backwards brute."

"And who the hell are you?" Tieran demanded.

"Beau Augustine Taylor," Beau said with a flourishing bow. "Genny and I go way back. Isn't that right, sugar?"

"And what's your crime, then?" Reagan asked. "Doesn't seem like anyone is too keen to see you."

"He thinks the colour of his skin makes him superior in some way," Blaise sneered. "Despite the fact that my bank account's twenty times his."

"Oh gross," Reagan sneered, rolling her eyes. "Honestly, Yank, that is pathetically 19th century."

"I'm no Yankee," Beau said self-importantly. "I've lived in the Old Confederacy all my life. And my daddy lived there before me and my granddaddy before that."

"Correction," Reagan snarled. "You lot are all Yanks to us. Septic tanks, if you fancy Cockney rhyme slang."

"Aren't you charming, then," Beau said, giving Reagan a disdainful look. "Is that eye a new fashion I don't know about? How delightfully…avante-garde."

"Oh piss off," Blaise snarled.

"Why don't you relax, General," Beau said to Blaise. "I didn't come her to insult you or your nasty little friend here. I came to help."

"We don't want or need your help," Ieuan assured him.

"No?" Beau said in irritation. "Fine, then I guess I won't give y'all the gift I brought."

"What is it?" Draco asked.

"Make Zabini promise to play nice and I'll give it to you."

"I'd rather burn in hell," Blaise spit.

"Your loss, then," Beau said. "So long."

He swung on his heels and strutted towards the door.

"C'mon Zabini, just pull it together," Harry said.

"Fine," Blaise said coolly. "Stay, if that what it takes."

Beau gave a dazzling smile.

"I knew you'd see it my way."

The doors swung in a final time, and two figures passed through, the first supporting the second.

"Oh my gods!" Cara cried, rising from her chair. "Oh my gods!"

Annalysse Blake was helping a battered Kelly along, who was limping slightly. His face was black and blue as well, and he looked in pain.

"Kelly," Cara breathed, gently kissing him as Annalysse eased him into a chair. Hermione was already standing and preparing to tend to his wound.. "Oh Merlin, I was so worried; you don't know how much I've missed you."

"You too," he breathed, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Beau turned to Blaise and smirked.

"I told you it was a good surprise."

"Shut up," Blaise demanded.

"When did you get out?" Max asked.

"Adrian let me go this morning," Kelly replied, accepting a glass of water from Cara and taking a grateful sip. "I have to go back in two weeks with new information."

"And what are you doing here?" Severina snapped at Annalysse.

"I convinced Adrian I should be Troy's handler," Annalysse replied calmly, undaunted by Severina's venom.

"Are you—alright?" Leolin asked Kelly,watching him wince in pain and feeling the selfish need to cry.

Kelly gave pained expression.

"I don't really want to talk about it," he said quietly. "But I got a lot out of Adrian when he thought I was under the imperious."

"What did you give him in return?"

"Audige," he said.

"What?" Harry demanded. "How? He has those slaver's chains now!"

Kelly looked at Severina, who bowed her head.

"The chains possess a great deal of magic, and whoever wields the chains, wields the power. However, the chains are beholden to the key."

"There's a key?" Draco demanded. "Does Audige know that?"

Severina shook her head.

"It was thought to have been lost. The chains have come and gone throughout history, but the key has never been found."

"But somehow you found them," Pansy repeated, clearly suspicious.

"We never lost them," Xavier replied. "They've been in our family for generations."

"Borgias," Blaise muttered irratibly to himself.

"And you knew all this?" Cara asked Kelly. It was clear she was stung he hadn't confided this information in her. Leolin felt a little of the same.

"Borgia told me when I agreed to go."

"You really think that was a good idea?" Draco snapped at Severina. "Now Pucey has a direct line to Bones through Audige!"

"It had to be done," Severina said. "Even with the chains Pucey might have found a way to take Audige down, and at least now it's on our own timetable."

Draco opened his mouth to argue more, but Ginny shook her head. "It's done now, Drake, and Borgia is right; at least now this is all on our terms.

"What else, Troy?" Reagan pressed.

Kelly looked at Leolin.

"I'm sorry, Lai," he croaked, squeezing Cara's hand and wincing as Hermione prodded at his side.

"For what?" Draco demanded, agitated by Kelly's tone.

"You're all he wanted to talk about," Kelly continued quietly to Leolin in a guilty tone. "I tried to resist him as best as I could, but—"

Leolin shook her head to keep what he was saying from really sinking in. She could only imagine what Adrian had wanted to know. Flashes of her night with Kelly blinked by, and she worried was sickening stomach if Adrian had been privy to those memories now as well.

"Don't be," she said. "I'm just glad you're safe."

"I promise I won't let me hurt you," Kelly said, looking at Leolin relaxing a little as Cara leaned soothingly into him.

"It's alright, Kelly," Leolin said, bitterly wishing it were true. "It's not your fault."

"Yes it is," he said. "And I'm sorry."

There was a long, sad silence, and Leolin could feel herself growing teary. She couldn't resist, and she looked up at Draco. He looked pained to be seperated from her, but Gen still had a tight hold on his arm, a fitting metaphor her current power over.

"What now, then?" Ieuan said.

"We just have to soldier on," Seamus Finnegan said doggedly. "Through better or worse."

"Most likely worse," Ron said, grabbing Hermione's hand.

"Look to left and right," Harry instructed. "This is the new Order of the Phoenix."

"To the Order," Tieran said.

His voice rang through the dining room.

"Here, here," several voices echoed.

"We can't turn back now," Felix said grimly. "We've gone to far."

"Sad but true," Kelly said. "Let's make this count."

Benton appeared now with servants in toe, as if sensing that Leolin didn't trust Javier to be in the dining room now that Kelly had appeared. The less people that know about him, the better.

Champagne was passed around, and when everyone had a flute, Harry stood, eyes solemn.

"To the new Order," he said solemnly.

"To the new Order," Reagan repeated raising her glass at well.

One by one they stood, repeating the toast.

Kelly was the last to stand, and it seemed difficult for him to labour to his feet.

"To the new order."

The glasses sang as they touch as everyone took a solemn drink.

Now Pansy raised her glass again.

"I would normally raise a glass and say 'confusion to our enemies'. However, given the circumstances, it doesn't seem quite sufficient." Her lip curled. "Death to our enemies," she said.

"Morte ai nostri nemici," Severina repeated, dark eyes flashing.

"Muerte a nuestros enemigos ," Xavy agreed

Felix stood now, eyes on Leolin before flicking to Draco.

"Mort à nos ennemis."

Draco's eyes flashed.

"Oui," he said at last, raising a glass to Felix. "Mort à nos ennemis"

---

After dinner, Gen watched through the window of their suite as Draco prowled the grounds. Despite his promise to her, he still hadn't come to bed, and she knew he wouldn't until she was asleep. At least he was alone. At least Leolin wasn't with him. She'd take a hollow pleasure the day's events. Draco seemed firm in his choice of Gen and the baby, and it felt good to see how much his decision had crippled Leolin. Or rather, it should have. Deep down it really didn't, though. Gen hated Leolin, that much was true, but it was ugly to watch anyone fall to such depths. With Draco out of her reach and Adrian on her heels, Leolin was trapped, and she seemed to be wilting away before Gen's eyes.

She had intended to win this fight fair and square, to prove to Leolin that her return meant nothing and she was a thing of Draco's past, not his future. That victory would have tasted sweet. However, this one was bitter. Gen stood in the middle of two soulmates, she knew that well enough, but still she couldn't seem to let go. She hadn't forgotten how it felt to fall in love with Draco, and though she hadn't been his first love, he had been hers. Her only. She was afraid now that even if she let go she would never be able to love like this again.

She shook her head. She had a throbbing headache, and all she wanted was to lie down. The best she could hope for with Draco now was for him to hold her when he finally returned.

Still even that seem too much to ask for now. She tucked into bed and snuggled up to her pillow, tears, staining the white sheets.

---

Draco had been wandering for what seemed like hours, but he was too restless to stop. He was going crazy, each direction pulling him so hard he felt he might burst. After everything that had happened, he yearned to go to Leolin and fall at her feet. On the other hand, he ought to go tend to the mother of his child; she needed him. Finally he made up his mind, slipping back inside the manor and making his was purposefully to Leolin's room. He knocked and after a moment she answered. She was wearing a silk nightgown with a cotton robe on top.

She frowned when she saw him.

"Draco, please," she said, holding out a hand to signal he couldn't come in. "Go away."

"Leolin—"

"No," she said softly, biting her lip. "Please, I can't do this with you again. You made your choice; now go honour it."

"I don't want to leave things like this," he said. "Please, let me come in."

"What does any of this matter?" she asked dolefully. "You gave me up, Draco. There is nothing more to be said."

"Please Leolin, I—I love you," he said earnestly. "I need you to know that no matter what."

She bit her lip, anguished.

"I do know that," she said, throat jammed with tears. "But I also know it isn't enough."

He reached to touch her cheek and she shied away from him.

"Please," she implored him, pushing his hand away. "This is hard enough. You're only making it worse."

"Leolin," he said, pained. "You have no idea how badly I wish things could be different."

"But they're not," she said, wiping a tear from her cheek. "And this was an impasse we never could have avoided. I can never give you what you want, Drake. I can never give you what she can."

Draco's eyebrows pinched together.

"That's not what this is about," he said. "This isn't about my wanting children."

"Please," she pleaded. "You don't have to lie to me. I know what this means to you."

"You're wrong," he said. "Its true that I've always wanted to be a father, but after New Orleans I realised the most important part of having a child was sharing it with you," he breathed, touching her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered closed, sending a tear that had been tangled in her lashes skidding down her cheek. She could hear in his voice that he was telling the truth. That only made things more painful.

"What does any of that matter now?" she demanded softly.

"It matters to me," he said in a firm voice. "It matters because I can't bear the thought you of thinking you are somehow damaged goods. You aren't; you're perfect."

"If that's really true— " she began.

"It is," he said, pained. "You know it is."

"Then don't marry her, " she pleaded. "Please."

"I have to. I wish I didn't, but I do."

"Why?" she pleaded. "It's the twenty-first century. You don't have to marry someone just because they're pregnant."

"You know what she'll do if I don't agree to this," Draco said. "She'll take off and I'll never see her again."

"Would that be so awful?" Leolin said softly.

He gave her a pained look.

"I'm sorry," she said, bowing her head.

"I wished this hadn't happened this way," he affirmed, licking his lip. "But now that it has, I have to honour my commitment to this baby. I'm not going to turn my back on my child the way my father turned his back on me."

"Then go to her," she choked. "What other choice do you have? Go to Gen and forget everything else."

"I can't. Not without a proper goodbye."

She nodded tightly, more tears falling. She thought about all the work she'd done to break the gag, and she knew it had been in vain.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, touching her cheek. "I'm sorry I didn't come back to you when I had the chance. I don't think you'll ever even know how much."

"I love you," she told him tearfully.

He stepped towards her, forcing her out of the doorway and back into the room. He nudged the door shut with a gleaming shoe while continuing his advance.

"I love you, too. I'll love you all the days of my life. Please try to understand why I'm doing this to you."

The hope plummeted to her stomach, suddenly full of lead.

"I do," she choked. "I just wish it could have been me."

His eyes flicked to her lips.

"In my heart it always will be."

He dipped to kiss her. This was her last chance, she knew it was, and she wasn't going to give it up. His hand slid to tangle in her hair as she gripped the lapels of his midnight blue blazer. She nimbly unbuttoned it and cast it to the floor. He pushed the robe off her shoulders, hands sliding down silky arms.

He pushed her hair aside so he could kiss her neck as she untucked the hem of his fitted pullover and tugged it over his head. When he was free of it he grabbed her cheeks gently to kiss her again. His fingers danced down her shoulders, tangling in the straps of her black slip.

He bent to kiss her bare shoulder, his lips dragging upward to her neck again. He was wearing only a soft white t-shirt now, and her eyes remained closed as she pushed a hand under the fabric and up his taut stomach. His muscles tensed at her initial touch, probably reacting to her cold hands, but soon he had her by the wrist, urging her hand towards his beating heart.

His skin was smooth beneath her fingers, and she melted into him as the kiss intensified. However, after a moment she brushed something inorganic and her eyes snapped open. Immediately she retracted her hand, breathless. They locked eyes. His were mournful, and instinctually she took several steps back. Finally, she approached again, tentatively grabbing the chain around his neck and drawing the pendant from where it had been hiding against his skin. It was amazing how quickly the tears bubbled up, and she covered her mouth as a sob burst forward.

"Draco," she sobbed, and he pulled her against his chest, resting his head softly atop hers. "You kept it?" she said sorrowfully, watching him.

He pulled back so he could look her in the eye.

"I can never stop loving you, Cal," he said solemnly, touching her cheek. Even when I try."

"Don't go," she begged quietly, pressing her face against his chest and feeling the pendant against her ear. "Please don't go. Not now. Not after everything we've been through. I love you, Drake. Always have, always will."

He kissed her again, his face the portrait of anguish.

"I love you, too" he choked, pressing her forehead to his and closing his eyes as two more tears skidded down his cheeks. "I'll love you until the sun rises in the West and sets in the East."

crack.

Somehow he'd gone.

Numbly she bent to retrieve his forgotten jumper. It was soft under her fingers and it smelled like him. Slowly she traipsed to the bed, a hideous hysteria crawling up her throat as collapsed sideways, the jumper still clutched in her arms.