Author's Note - Smut after the page break. Thanks for reading, please review! Thanks to conh3 for the nice review. There is a reason he didn't go find her after the war that will be addressed. The initial issue was that he was on trial for war crimes and spent a year under house arrest, but there's more. Hang tight :) -MM
November 2008
Wizarding London, England
Monday
Lyra had slept all of four hours the previous night. She'd had to get up pre-dawn to see her father safely to the airport. She was the first one at the office and spent nearly all day elbow deep in ass-numbingly dull British cursing law in preparation for Harry's inquiry.
By the time she left to go to Narcissa's for the interview, she was a ragged mess.
She walked as opposed to taking the Floo, hoping it would perk her up. When she arrived in Narcissa's grand sitting room, the blonde witch went wide eyed.
"Lyra, what happened?" She asked, concerned.
"The day happened," she huffed. "I'm so tired."
"Well we will just have to...make some adjustments," Narcissa said helpfully.
"I put my haggard face and hair in your entirely capable hands, Mrs. Malfoy," Lyra said, stifling a yawn. "Where's Draco?"
"He's upstairs. We can worry about him later. You and I have work to do."
"Yes, Ma'am," Lyra replied.
She put her in a scoop-necked ivory sweater dress. It was shorter than the last one and stopped a few inches above her knee. It was comfortable and draped her body perfectly. Narcissa left her hair down and spelled it into some beachy, tousled waves that looked chic and effortless. She laid the makeup on a little thicker than she would have liked, given Lyra's state of fatigue, but played up on her natural tan to both make the dress look brighter and put her in bronze contrast to Draco's pale skin. She accented her ears and right ring finger with diamonds and put her in a pair of suede ankle boots that were a lovely cornflower blue. The overall effect was casual class. Lyra was in love.
"Oh my God! I don't look like a zombie anymore, and if I do, it's a pretty zombie!" She said, beaming. "You really earned your keep, today, given what you started with."
Narcissa chuckled. "Mrs. Figg should be here in about 25 minutes. You'll be in the library. I think Draco's already up there," Narcissa said.
"Thank you," she replied, planting a kiss on the blonde witch's cheek and heading upstairs to find Draco.
The library was a beautiful room done in black maple with green accents. She found Draco lost in a book behind a grand desk on the far wall of the room. He had his feet perched on the edge and seemed to be totally engrossed. She got well over half way to him before he looked up at her.
She smiled at him sweetly then laughed outright when his eyes shamelessly traveled the length of her bare legs.
"See something you like?" She asked innocently.
"Maybe," he replied.
She blushed and made her way over to him to lean against the desk, next to his chair.
He brought his hand to her and ghosted it up the side of her body and back down, marveling at her shape and the softness of the dress. "Beautiful," he mused quietly.
"You look pretty good yourself," she replied, leaning into his hand.
He had worn, or rather his mother had put him in gray trousers paired with a thin black sweater that highlighted the sleek musculature of his shoulders. He had the sleeves rolled up, exposing an expensive silver watch with a steel blue face and his hair was styled with intentional casualness. He looked good. He pretty much always did.
"You ready?" She asked.
"Are you?" He challenged.
"I feel like I could fall asleep or blab something acutely embarrassing at any moment. So, yes?" She answered.
He sighed. "Just remember you can always say less and let them ask follow on questions if you want."
She nodded. "Will...will you come home with me tonight?" She asked, looking down.
"You know I will," he said softly, pulling her in front of him so she was pinned between his chair and the desk.
She smiled. "I feel like we haven't been alone in days."
"Well, that would be because we haven't been alone in days," he quipped. "Are you alright? How was work?" He inquired, looking up from his seat and rubbing his hands soothingly down her hips.
She yawned. "Boring. They scheduled Harry's inquiry for Wednesday morning. I know you think he's a wanker and you know that I occasionally agree with you about that, but I really need you there. Will you go?" She asked, bracing herself for a fight.
Draco narrowed his eyes but held her gaze. "He is a wanker. But if you need me, I will go. For you."
Lyra balked in surprise but then grinned wide and pitched herself into his lap. "Thank you, baby," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his jaw before nuzzling into his shoulder and closing her eyes.
She fell asleep within minutes and Draco laughed, gathering her into his arms, and settled them both on the couch. He watched her sleep, absentmindedly trailing his fingers along the soft cashmere of her dress. He should really thank his mother for dressing his witch in something that made her legs look so sexy, although that probably wasn't the intent.
Draco was just musing about the sweet nature of the budding relationship between Lyra and his mother when a house elf appeared, informing him that the reporter had arrived.
"Lyra," he said, rocking her gently.
She grumbled unhappily and burrowed deeper into his arms.
"It's time, Sweetheart," he informed her.
She groaned and sat up, disentangling slowly from him and immediately missing the heat from his body. She settled herself next to him on the couch and fluffed her hair out for good measure.
Narcissa entered the room then followed by a plump, gray haired witch wearing frumpy pink robes. Draco and Lyra stood to meet her.
"Griselda, I'd like you to meet Lyra Black and of course you know my son Draco," the blonde witch trilled politely.
"Draco, so nice to see you, little lamb. You look so handsome! Finally put on some weight. Excellent," the reporter chirped at Draco who smiled tightly. She then turned to Lyra. "And here is the lovely woman causing all this fuss. Pleasure to meet you," she said extending her hand to Lyra.
"Thank you so much. It's nice to meet you too!" Lyra said, shaking her hand enthusiastically.
"Ah, the accent! So cute," the witch quipped, patting Lyra on the arm.
Draco and Lyra settled in together on the couch and Narcissa and Griselda occupied two upholstered chairs across from them near the fire. The reporter readied a self-writing quill for transcription and got right to it.
"Miss Black, let's start with you, shall we?" She asked.
Lyra inhaled nervously. "Sure, why not."
"Where are you from?"
"New York City. Brooklyn, to be exact."
"And what do you do for a living?"
"I'm an Auror for MCUSA, that's the Magical Congress of the United States," Lyra replied.
The reporter's eyes widened. "An Auror! That's brilliant! Do you have a specialty?"
"I do!" Lyra gasped, tickled that the woman even knew Aurors could specialize. "I specialize in Occlemency and Legilimency."
"Very complex magic, that," the witch commented, seeming impressed.
"I love it."
"Are you working with the Aurors at the Ministry?" She asked.
"I am, as a consultant, but I can't comment on any active cases or projects," Lyra warned.
"Of course," the witch replied. "Can you tell me if it was though your work that you met Draco?"
Lyra looked over at her boyfriend. "This kid?" She questioned, elbowing him in the arm. "No, I've known him forever."
Draco smiled over at her.
"Really!? When did you meet?" The reporter asked, startled by the news and the easy informality between the dark-haired American and her snobbish boyfriend.
"Um...1991 maybe? We were eleven," Lyra explained. "We met at Hogwarts."
"Being from The States, why didn't you attend the Ilvermorny School?" The reporter asked.
"I did, but I was lucky enough to do several short exchanges over here thanks to the Headmaster."
"Do you mean Albus Dumbledore?"
"Correct." Oh shit...probably should not have brought that up.
"Did you know him?" She asked.
"Not really, but I'm very grateful that he let me come and study." She paused, looking at the witch. Lyra could see the question the woman was dying to ask. It was swimming around in her head like a snake. Lyra decided to beat her to the punch, so she could drive the conversation, as Narcissa had suggested. "I imagine that you're probably interested in knowing how I feel about what Draco did during the war that contributed to his death. It's a fair question," she offered. She felt Draco stiffen next to her, but he said nothing.
The reporter looked stunned. "I am," she admitted.
Lyra nodded her head tiredly. "I think what he did was wrong. I know why he did it, and I, like most self-righteous people, want to think that if I were in his position at seventeen I would have made a different call, but I honestly have no idea. Why? Because when I was seventeen I was safe at school, worrying about exams and prom dresses. When he was seventeen he was in the clutches of maniacs who saw nothing wrong with turning children into soldiers and assassins under the threat of death." The answer was honest, and required no spin on her part.
The old witch pulled out a handkerchief to catch a quiet tear. "Oh my dears," she whispered. "Draco, do you have anything to say about that?"
He cleared his throat. "Not really. It's all out there already," he said almost shyly.
"Of course," the reporter replied kindly. "How exactly did you two meet?" She asked, changing the subject.
"I studied regularly under Severus Snape during my intervals at Hogwarts," Lyra explained.
The reporter turned to Draco. "He was a kind of mentor to you, was he not?"
Draco took an uncomfortable breath. "He was, yeah. He's also the reason I met her," he said, putting a hand on Lyra's knee. "My first year, I was stuck at Hogwarts for a winter break while my parents were out of the country for some reason or other. I was miserable, haunting the Slytherin dungeons like a ghost, and Snape found me moping. He dragged me into a classroom and shoved me at a little American witch who needed a legilimency partner," he explained.
Lyra smiled at him.
"After that, I found endless excuses to avoid having to leave for breaks when I knew she would be at the castle," he continued.
"Were you romantically involved when you were younger?"
Lyra blushed.
"We were," Draco answered plainly.
"Were you together when the war broke out?"
"I suppose technically yes but we...I broke it off after after Voldemort moved into my parent's home, the winter of my 6th year, before the borders were closed. I was worried that he would see her in my thoughts," he said nervously. "I didn't want him to use her against me the way that he was using my mother."
"What do you mean?"
"He threatened to kill her, then me if I didn't kill the Headmaster," Draco clarified, motioning towards his mother.
The reporter said nothing, but looked over to Narcissa who was wiping away a tear.
Lyra reached over and grabbed his hand.
"I'm sorry, my dears, for hauling you back through all of this heartbreak," the old witch said, dabbing her eyes again. "Shall we move on to other things?"
Lyra nodded.
"Right, well I'm sure you've heard the speculation that Draco was missing for sometime before resurfacing last week. There is a theory now that you had him holed up in some love nest somewhere and his disappearance is completely unrelated to his father's recent legal woes. Do you care to comment on that?"
Lyra laughed. Narcissa snorted.
"I'm sorry," Lyra said with a chuckle. "Well, I can't comment on Mr. Malfoy's arrest but I can safely affirm that I did not spirit Draco away to a bungalow for snuggle time. I sincerely wish that were the case."
"Draco, can you comment at all on your disappearance?"
"I'm afraid I can't," He replied. Literally because I have no sodding clue, he added to himself mentally.
"When did you two start seeing each other again?" She asked.
"Very recently. Whoever was following us last Wednesday snapped us snogging for the first time in about a decade," Draco answered honestly. "It was my fault. She looked so lovely, I couldn't help myself. I'm honestly surprised that she didn't punch me in the teeth."
"I could always punch you in the teeth now, if it would make you feel better," Lyra offered helpfully.
"That's very thoughtful of you, sweetheart, but I'll wait," he said back, putting his arm around her.
The reporter laughed.
"Why did you agree to be interviewed?"
Lyra took the initiative on this one. "Because we understand that with everything that's happened recently there's bound to be interest in our relationship and we wanted to put it out there in our own words," she said, looking at Draco.
He squeezed her into his side. "That's right. It looks exciting from the outside, but to us, it's more old than new, I think."
"I think we're pretty boring, to be honest," Lyra added in support of his point. "We watch bad TV. We eat pancakes. Draco talks to me about Quidditch and I pretend to listen. I talk to Draco about dueling and he pretends to listen. Pretty standard stuff."
Draco smiled and the old witch laughed.
"But you must like Quidditch!" The witch exclaimed.
"I like my bones intact and to not have my head concussed," Lyra said back.
"I thought Americans were risk-takers!?" The old witch teased.
"I do take risks! I had an Auror to Auror death-match last week with Harry Potter! I just don't want to be...bludgeoned?" She petitioned.
"It's called a bludger, love." Draco corrected before looking back at the reporter. "She really doesn't listen."
Lyra huffed unhappily.
Griselda laughed. "You two are just too sweet! You know, I think I can take it from here. I've brought a photo man with me to get a quick shot, if you don't mind," she said.
"That's fine," Draco replied.
"I'll get him," Narcissa said, getting up to head out the door.
She returned with a young red-haired wizard in a smart suit who trudged in behind her, lugging his equipment.
"Lovely room," he remarked.
"Thank you," Narcissa replied.
The photographer led Draco and Lyra over to the window for better light.
Lyra was drained after the interview. She was worried she'd said too much, but she wasn't getting any overt signals from Draco or Narcissa that she had. She reached out to Draco's mind to see what he was thinking about...
I wonder if she's too tired for a shag after this. I just want her to wrap those legs around me and let me have at her for an hour or so...wait a minute. What are you up to, Black? Don't you know it's not nice to spy? But, since you're in here already, do you think you're too tired for a shag after this?
Lyra burst out laughing, even as a wave of pain crashed into her temples. She leaned forward to hide herself in Draco's chest while he rested his back on the window frame.
"You alright, sweetheart?" He asked, bringing a hand up to cradle the back of her head.
She made a satisfied grumble into his chest. He chuckled and rubbed into her scalp which turned her grumble into more of a purr. Her purr stopped abruptly when she heard the telltale click of a camera. She pulled back to look at the photographer.
"That's brilliant," he said to them.
"We didn't do anything?" She replied, confused.
"Exactly. You get a better picture that way. Carry on doing nothing," he explained.
She looked back to Draco skeptically, who just shrugged. "Why don't you tell me more about your day," he offered, to distract her.
She leaned back into the window frame across from him. "You mean more about the absolute quagmire that is British spellcasting law? Ok, sure! Get this garbage. There are two rival invocation clauses for prosecuting unlawful uses of the Imperious curse called...get this...The Ripple and the Dipple rules. The entire premise of an invocation clause is absurd in the first place, however, because there is no such thing as a lawful use of the Imperious curse! Unbelievable! How do you guys ever get anything done!"
Lyra expounded on her thesis a bit until they were informed by the young wizard that he'd gotten some great shots and would be on his way. They saw Mrs. Figg and the photographer to the door with Mrs. Malfoy and as soon as the door clicked, Lyra turned to the two blondes and started babbling self-consciously.
"Did I say too much? I didn't mean to talk about Dumbledore. I was just trying to roll with it after and I'm so sorry if I brought up anything that upset either of you..."
"Quite to the contrary, dear. I think you did excellent. It was mostly light, it was genuine and, whether you meant to or not, I think you found a way to humanize Draco in a way that he's not very good at doing himself, no offense my love," Narcissa explained, adding an apology to Draco at the end.
Lyra nodded and looked over to Draco.
"I agree with my mother. Well done," he said with a proud little smirk.
Lyra sighed in relief. "Thank god. I am so tired. Let's never do that again either."
November 2008
Muggle London, England
Monday Evening
Draco and Lyra flooed back to the Savoy. Lyra bounded happily to the bedroom and wriggled out of her clothes. Draco followed her at a lazy pace and watched her with amusement. She was flinging her bra haphazardly into the laundry bin when she paused and looked back at him.
"Hey! What are you doing? I thought you said you wanted to have at me?"
He laughed, leaning against the wall.
She trailed over to him, completely naked, and started undoing his belt.
"Why don't we sleep first, sweetheart? I know you're tired," he offered, despite his obviously growing arousal.
"I'm just looking for a lazy bang here, kiddo. What were you planning on doing with me?" She asked with a quizzical brow.
He smirked wickedly at her and grabbed her face with both hands bringing his lips to hers. She undid his trousers and then traced under his sweater with her hands up to the smooth expanse of his chest. He lifted his arms over his head helpfully and Lyra broke their kiss to pull off and toss his sweater. He pushed her back towards the bed and laid her down. He discarded his trousers and underwear quickly and crawled over her, covering her small body with his larger one.
Lyra raised her knees to open herself for him. He pressed himself to her in as many points as he could, enjoying the unparalleled softness of her skin. Looking down at her, he marveled at the way her hazel eyes turned into molten gold whenever she was aroused. It made him feel incredible. It made him feel almost like he deserved to be there.
Lyra loved being pressed under his weight like this. He was so warm and he covered her completely. She wrapped her ankles around his lower back to press their bodies closer together. They weren't fucking yet. He wasn't even inside her. They were just touching. Kissing. She trailed her fingertips along the channel of his spine over and over again until he was wriggling in her arms.
She began gently pulsing her hips to call him back to attention. He fisted both hands in her long hair and pulled back to look at her. She was panting softly with need and anticipation. Keeping his eyes fixed on her face, he executed an amazing little swivel with his muscles that guided him inside her in one fluid motion.
Her eyes fell shut as he entered her. She, almost as if on instinct, arched her back up to press her chest into his. She breathed out a grateful little moan to him that sounded like she'd just been delivered from some kind of unbearable tension.
He pumped into her slowly, marveling at how perfectly complementary their bodies were. She was small where he was large. Soft where he was hard. Sinfully wet where he was desperately dry.
He was killing her with his slow, steady thrusts. He could work her this way for hours if he wanted to. He kept them chest to chest and stationed his mouth close to her ear, so he could whisper the most delicious things to her that had her whining for completion. It reminded her of their first time. Not the part where she was an awkward virgin, but the part where he had treated her with such gentle and exquisite care that she felt like the most thoroughly adored creature on the face of the earth. It was amazing to her how he could still make her feel such devotion with a single fuck.
"Do you like that sweetheart? Do you like having me inside you?" He whispered in her ear.
She whimpered in affirmation.
"You make me so hard. Do you know how good you feel?"
Oh my god. She pulled her knees higher to her elbows to find him more space.
"Tell me what you want, love."
"I want you." She panted.
He grunted and fucked once into her hard.
"I'm yours," he said gruffly.
"I want to feel you come," she whispered.
Draco sped up. Lyra ran her fingers through his hair, pressing her lips to his ear.
"Do you like coming inside me baby?" She asked.
His breath caught in his throat. "I love it."
She smiled into his neck and wrapped her arms around him like a vine. She made little cries with every deep surge of his hips and let him have her.
He pulled back and pressed a shaky kiss to her forehead. His pace was becoming erratic and Lyra looked up at him to watch.
Draco threw his head back and put a slight separation between them as he came, snapping his eyes shut. He panted breathlessly in time with the rhythmic surge of his climax.
Lyra felt his heat pour into her and the sweet feel of it finished her, causing her to contract around him, demanding more from his body. She arched her back and reached her hand out to make contact with his chest, feeling his heart thundering under her palm.
Draco gently put his forehead to hers and settled himself back onto her, enjoying the aftershocks of her orgasm that snapped around him as he softened within her.
Lyra tilted her head to press a lazy, satisfied kiss to his mouth, loving the taste of sweat on his lip.
"Mmmm," she said, running her hands down his sides.
His arms felt like lead, so he moved down, slipping out of her and rested his head on her chest. She brought one hand up to hold his head to her and the other to draw soft little patterns on the skin of his back.
They laid that way in silence for a few moments and Draco huffed out a quiet laugh at her expense for the second time that day as she fell asleep almost instantly. He snuggled deeper into her and just enjoyed being in her arms until he thought he was making her too warm and he rolled to the side, staying close, and drifted to sleep.
