March 2009
Nomaj Manhattan, New York
Wednesday

Draco was standing in the tiny living room of Lyra's apartment. It was the size of a closet at the manor. It was much smaller than the Savoy, and he didn't think apartments came any smaller than that.

It was dark inside and he could smell the dust. Under the dust though, he could smell Lyra. Eucalyptus and rain. She was everywhere. This is where she lived. Where she slept. Where she drank her coffee before he and his father had caught her in their web and crushed her soul. Draco frowned.

Lyra wasn't with him. She was recovering at her parent's home in Brooklyn. The staff at St. Mungo's had been reluctant to discharge her, but they couldn't force her to stay against her will and her mother was a very capable mediwitch, so they gave her a bag full of potions and sent her out the door. From there, Draco got them all on a private plane and spirited them back to New York without ceremony. He told his mother and Astoria for logistical reasons and sent a terse owl notifying Shacklebolt for legal reasons, but that was it. He sought neither approval nor permission. His witch wanted to go home and he was going to take her home.

She was doing alright. She was eating more, but not enough. She liked to sleep by the fire next to Bex, Mrs. Black's insufferably annoying dog. Draco had tried for days to coax Lyra into the bed. He'd caught her napping on the hard floor a few times and it tore him apart so he gave up and levitated her mattress to lie in front of the fire. In other words he, Draco Malfoy, old of name and pure of blood, was spending his nights on a floor mattress in Brooklyn next to a mute witch and a slobbering mongrel. Interestingly, when Lyra wasn't thrashing with one of her nightmares, he actually slept pretty well.

He ran a wary hand through his hair and started opening up her apartment, spelling away the dust and stale air. While Lyra was in Azkaban, Draco had to have a Muggle lawyer come out to New York and threaten her sleazy landlord who was sending notices to her parents and trying to have her evicted. He settled the dispute and forward paid her rent for several years so that Lyra would never have to worry about not having a home of her own to come back to.

After an hour or so of his work, it looked like a semi-suitable habitat...for a house-elf. He couldn't believe how she fit all of her things inside this bloody shoebox. Nevertheless, he wanted to give her the option of coming here if she felt smothered at her parent's house. He gave the living room a final go over and hopped in the fireplace to go back to Brooklyn.


March 2009
Wizarding Brooklyn, New York
Wednesday

The house was completely quiet when Draco returned. Marla was at the hospital and Alistair had mentioned that he wanted to stop at a bookstore at some point during the day. That wouldn't have normally been a problem, but for the storm.

It had been raining in Manhattan, but it sounded like a hurricane was raging outside in Brooklyn. He heard a loud clap of thunder and started calling out for Lyra. She was probably petrified. He tore through the house and couldn't find her. He went around to all the bathrooms and found the 2nd floor bathroom door closed and locked. He panicked.

He didn't even think of his wand. He just threw his shoulder into the door and burst through, clacking his teeth together to brace against the pain.

"Lyra?" He said gently into the room, afraid of what he would find.

He heard a ruffling sound and saw two sets of black claws grip the edge of the tall bathtub in the room.

He exhaled in relief.

He walked over as she peaked her fuzzy head out at him.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" He asked.

A deafening crack of thunder sounded outside and Lyra made a distressed noise and cowered low to make herself small.

He frowned. "It's alright love," he soothed stepping into the tub and sitting down across from her.

A loud gust of wind followed and Lyra scurried forward into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her the best he could and tried to calm her down.

After about ten minutes, the storm had passed and Draco thought he was going to suffocate from her weight and the heat from her fur.

"You're drowning me a bit, love. Could we take this off?" He asked, running a finger along her transfiguration bracelet.

She made a high pitched sound and tried to extract herself from him instantly, but he pulled her back down.

"I didn't say I wanted you to get off," he clarified. "I was just wondering if..."

She looked at him and huffed. She held her paw out to him and he slipped the cord from it.

Moments later, he was sitting fully clothed in an empty bathtub, cradling his naked girlfriend...who had just been a bear.

"Better?" She asked him in a whisper, nuzzling her head into his shoulder.

"Yes." He replied.

Lyra curled in on herself a bit to hide her nakedness from him. Draco wanted to tell her to stop, that he didn't mind that her hipbones stuck out in bony peaks or that the bruises over her protruding vertebrae didn't make her any less beautiful to him, but he didn't want to push her. He readjusted, pulled his jacket off and covered her with it.

"You mad?" She croaked weakly.

"I'm always mad, but not at you," he replied honestly into her hair.

"Sorry for...the bear," she mumbled, embarrassed.

Draco laughed and squeezed her in tighter. "After the war, do you know what I did to dull the pain? I drank myself stupid, caused a bloody poppy shortage in Afghanistan and took any pill that was put in front of me," he admitted with a wince. "You just sat three months in a black hole having demons eat your soul. If you need to turn into a bear to deal with it, you turn into a fucking bear, sweetheart."

Lyra furrowed her brown and shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Your idea?" Lyra asked, holding up her bracelet.

"The transfiguration was Potter's idea, actually. His godfather Sirius spent ten years in Azkaban in between the wars and apparently was able to keep himself from going totally insane by turning into a dog or something. We thought it might save you some pain," he admitted quietly. "Astoria's sister's husband knows a bloke who does object corporeal transfiguration. Pretty posh stuff. Mostly for bored socialites who want to turn into kittens without putting in the work to become animagi."

"Why a bear?" She squeaked, her voice cutting out.

He sighed. "Because your brother told me they're the most resistant to starvation."

Lyra nodded numbly.

"And it's not just any bear, thank you very much. It's Ursus americanus, to be exact," I thought you'd like that," he added.

Lyra pulled back to look at him and smiled. "I do," she confirmed.

His heart melted with her smile and he leaned in to kiss her.

She remembered this. Smiling, kissing. It felt nice. She needed to tell him something, but she forgot how for a moment, so she just kissed him deeper. Once she remembered, she pulled back slightly and whispered her message against his lips like a desperate prayer. "I Love you."

He banded his arms tightly around her waist, crushing their chests together. "I love you too, sweetheart," he replied.


March 2009
Wizarding Brooklyn, New York
Friday

Lyra improved markedly after their conversation in the bathtub. She started speaking more. Draco caught her in the kitchen once by herself just making odd little sounds to exercise her vocal cords. He thought it was adorable.

They began taking walks together in the evening. Not long ones, just little trips around her block to stretch out her legs and get fresh air in her lungs. They were on their way back home one evening when they were stopped by a stranger.

"Miss Black?" A female voice came from behind them. They turned and Draco pulled Lyra in a little closer to his body.

"That's me," Lyra said quietly.

The woman smiled. She was gorgeous. Early forties, strawberry blonde hair and green eyes. They reminded Lyra of Scorpius's eyes. She missed him something fierce.

"Miss Black. I'm Kira. Kira Nagini. I'm a friend of your mother's," the woman explained.

"It's nice to meet you," Lyra replied.

"Nice to meet you too. You look so much like her! Except for the hair, of course. Lovely," the witch chirped.

"How can we help you?" Draco asked warily, squeezing Lyra's waist.

The redhead sighed. "Easy, fella. I'm here to help. Almitra and I have something we think may be useful for you two," she countered. "Come by the house tomorrow. Passcode for the floo is Amberley." She handed Draco a business card, gave Lyra a peck on the cheek and bid them goodnight.

Lyra peaked at the card in Draco's hand. Three lines in elegant gold script:

House of Nagini
Manhattan, New York
United States of America

"Well, I'm glad they cleared that up. I was ready to head to Peru," Lyra quipped sarcastically, gripping Draco's arm and pulling him down the lane back towards her parent's brownstone.

They made it home, spent an hour or so in the living room with her parents, and went up to her room. Lyra moved the mattress back to the actual bed and banished a very grumpy Bex back to his huge pile of fleece blankets downstairs, sending him off with many reassuring pets and ear scratches.

Draco fell asleep first and Lyra rolled on her side to watch him. He was so beautiful. He just was. Some men were handsome, some men were rustic but her wizard was beautiful. His silky blonde hair, porcelain pale skin, proud features. She could stare at him for hours transfixed by his face. The rest of his body was every bit as delightful. She popped up on an elbow and ran a palm down his chest and stomach. He was shirtless and wearing black cloth pants. She rubbed back and forth across the fine blonde hairs under his belly button and found herself wanting to touch more of him.

No, Lyra. He's asleep, she argued with herself. She bit her lip and tried to ignore the eager ache welling in between her legs. Plus, it's been over four months. That thing would break you in half...Ohmigod. She carded her nails through the hair just above the band of his pants.

Draco groaned and put his hand on top of hers. "Tickles," he said sleepily.

"Draco?" She asked.

"Hmm," he replied, opening his eyes to look at her.

She felt the blush light up her skin and she looked down.

"Um. Yes. Yes I would like that very much," he informed her, reading her expression.

Lyra smiled and climbed on top of him before bending forward to kiss him.

They rolled around for awhile and Draco had just gotten her out of her underwear when Bex starting whining outside their door.

Lyra laughed.

Draco scowled.

They carried on and he let her drive everything, but stopped her from lowering herself down on to his cock.

Lyra frowned. "You don't want to?" She asked sensitively, rocking her hips against his.

He ran his hands up her sides, enjoying the view of her perched above him. "Oh no. I do. Believe me, I do. It's just that if you put me inside you right now, I can promise you that I will wake the whole bloody house."

She smiled. "I see."

She dismounted him and fell to the side. Draco trailed his pale hand up her thigh and brought her to several quiet but intense orgasms with his skilled fingers. Lyra returned the favor with a slow, tight handjob that culminated in him painting her belly with his climax while he devoured her mouth wildly. Lyra thought it was fun and sweet, like when they were teenagers, rubbing up on each other until something awesome happened.

In the sticky aftermath, Lyra slept sprawled out over him in a mess of unruly black hair and bony limbs.

Draco laid awake for awhile under her weight, trailing his fingers in little patterns over the small of her back and enjoying the tidal flow of her breath against the skin of his chest. When he awoke in the morning, his witch was in the same spot. He looked bleary eyed at the bedside clock and saw that she had slept for 6 hours. No nightmares.