Author's Note: Okay, sorry for the long delay, folks. I started school again and am also working several jobs (I know, I'm a nutter). BUT, since it's been 6+ weeks since I updated, I'm going to give you two chapters. Enjoy and let me know what you think as the plot thickens...

Responses (though you guys probably don't even remember what you wrote in your reviews at this point lol)

Bella Moon: Thank you. Yup, that is what they say in Italian. People either love or hate the Mafia twist so glad you fall into the former category!

TheGreatAmericanNightmare: Heh. Your penname is conjuring images of the current economic news. Thanks for reading and I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

straightlyconfused: Yes, I had to play down Lucius in order to keep him from stealing the show - he tends to do that in my fics. Draco won out here. :)

Tears of Ebon-Grey: Thanks! After all Lucius has been through I thought he'd have a certain anxiety about returning to his 'old' life. Now he's got the best of both worlds, but it may be a while yet before he returns to the Manor (and he'll certainly bring some muggle devices with him). As for Narcissa, well, stay tuned...

Cyranothe2nd: Nope, I don't like to make characters black and white, with the occasional exception of my ultimate villains. And ten points for using the phrase 'the vapors'.

marbleandtoast: Thanks! Look for more updates on here, because I'm having issues uploading on GE lately...

cwtigerlily: I hope you managed your AP History stuff...I took that class back in the day and loved it, but I'm a dork. Thanks for your compliments. I consistently try to present a realistic version of the relationships we see in the HP universe, from canon (Harry & Ginny) to fanon (Dramione!). I also confess to loving Lucius and wanting everyone else to love him, too - he's so much fun when he's pseudo-reformed. I hope you have enough time to surface from your schoolwork and read some more!

loveangelli: Thanks! The LM/HG/DM fic is up, just click on my penname - the story is called Sang Froid. There are two chapters up right now. I have a third to post, but I haven't been able to write much on it because of piles of school work and work work. I'm trying to focus on my big epic stories (this and Hungry Thirsty Crazy). Once I get a little breathing room, I'll be working on the others. :)

Azrulai: I'm glad you approve of Narcissa's taste in designers. ;)

fahzzyquill: Well, this isn't soon, but it is an update...

Duco Lacuna: Thanks! I know some people DETEST Lucissa...I don't read much of it but when it's done well it's worthwhile. I think a lot of people really like the 'I hate you/I love you' dynamic that Draco and Hermione often have in stories, and I'm not doing much of that, so that makes my Dramione a bit odd. They're both gasp level-headed adults. Of course, they have their moments and they are bound to clash, like any couple, but they actually suit each other pretty well. Maybe that bores some people? Who knows...more steamy times ahead for them and lots of drama for everyone else.

brooklynsam3: You'll find out Lorenzo and Jocasta's fate soon. :)

October 1

"You're sure he won't want to kill us for this?" Harry asked, gesturing at Titania. The dog looked fine but there was no mistaking that she had recently given birth; her teats were pronounced and heavy with milk.

"For heaven's sake, Harry, we didn't get his dog knocked up. She was already pregnant when I borrowed her. It was probably Oberon," Ginny sighed, exasperated.

"Ah, the sly cad," Harry smirked.

"Indeed." She shook her head. "This will work, Harry. It's impossible to stay angry at a person with a puppy."

So that was how Harry found himself at Lucius Malfoy's door, Titania's leash in one hand and a squirmy grey puppy cradled securely in the other. He let the loop of Titania's leash slide down his wrist and grasped the puppy beneath its front legs with both hands. When Lucius opened the door, he held the little bundle up. With only a very slight cringe, he said,

"I'm sorry?"

Malfoy blinked, pale eyes darting from the puppy to Titania to Harry. Then he burst out laughing. In fact, he laughed so hard that he doubled over. That wasn't the reaction Harry had expected, but he was more than happy to go with it.

"Ah," Lucius said, clutching his side, "did Miss Weasley put you up to this?"

"Yes," Harry said grudgingly.

"She thinks I can be plied with puppies," Lucius snorted, wiping tears from his eyes. "Oh. Apology accepted. That was easily one of the most entertaining moments of my life."

"Well, um--" Harry started, but at that moment Oberon appeared at the end of the hallway and Titania ran for him, nearly pulling Harry's arm out of the socket. He only just managed to hand the puppy over to Lucius before the dog hauled him into the apartment. Lucius had to press himself against the door and lift the puppy over Harry's head as they went by.

Harry had no idea that Titania was so strong. Lucius was laughing again and this time Harry joined in. Watching the two dogs circle one another with frantically wagging tails was inciting a distinct warm and fuzzy feeling. They would, of course, not speak of this to anyone

Lucius closed the door and put the puppy down on the ground. It ran for its mum and dad, little paws scrabbling clumsily on the floor.

"Is that the only one?" he asked.

"No. There are six more."

Lucius crossed his arms over his chest and gave his dogs an appraising look. "This is why I was wary of having a male and a female. Draco said Titania was fixed…"

"Apparently not," Harry replied.

"Ah well," the blond shrugged, "at least they are not related. The puppies should be healthy."

"Yes, Titania and Auntie Ginny have been taking very good care of them."

Lucius collapsed into an armchair. "Listen to us, Potter. The big bad Death Eater and the savior of the wizarding world mooning over puppies."

Harry tilted his head. "I don't see any Death Eaters here."

Lucius arched an eyebrow. "Now you're just kissing my arse."

"No. I mean it. You're, um, different…and…stuff," Harry mumbled.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, but let it pass without comment. For a few minutes they just watched the three dogs. Oberon and Titania had curled up together, and the as-yet-unnamed puppy was happily suckling away at its mum's side.

"So I read that you got your wand back," Harry said at last, groping for polite conversation. "It was in the Prophet."

"Scared?" Lucius gave him a half-hearted smile.

"No." Harry contemplated him curiously. He had expected that Malfoy would be deliriously pleased to get his wand back. Hell, he hadn't even been sure Malfoy would still be here. Didn't he have a mansion waiting for him? He thought he'd be back to his old comforts the minute the sliver of wood was in his hand. Instead, he actually seemed a bit…morose at the mention of it.

"Aren't you happy?" he asked, frowning.

Lucius shrugged. This perplexed Harry greatly; it didn't fit. A terrible thought occurred to him. Did a person lose magic if they didn't use it? A use it or lose it phenomenon?

"You…you can still do magic, right?" he dared to ask.

"Of course." Lucius made a face at him. "I used it on you recently, if you recall."

He did, only too well. There had been nothing lacking about Malfoy's wandless disarming spell. "Then what's the problem?"

The other man heaved a sigh. He slouched in the chair and as Harry observed he seemed to tense up. Then his leg began to go, restlessly twitching. Harry could tell that he wanted to say something and was trying very hard not to. He was half tempted to bark at the man to spit it out (he'd spent far too much time with Ginny), but was sure that that was probably the best way to never be privy to what irked him. Not to mention it would probably wear out his welcome.

"Ugh," Lucius growled, slouching further. "It's ridiculous."

"I'm sure it's not," Harry said neutrally.

Lucius stood up and paced. Back and forth he went, and it did nothing to calm his agitation. At last he said in a low voice, "It's just…how do I know?"

"Know what?"

He didn't face Harry, instead choosing to look out the window. "How do I know that I won't fall into the same trap? Do the same things?" His hands curled into fists. "Hurt people?"

For a reason Harry didn't fully comprehend, goose bumps rose along his skin. Lucius Malfoy was afraid to use his wand. He was afraid to hurt people. He didn't trust himself. Sweet Merlin, how far he'd come! Harry spent a long minute gathering his thoughts before he responded.

"Lucius, you know because you care enough to be worried about the possibility."

Malfoy stood at the window for a long time. The words hung between them. Harry had the distinct feeling that Lucius would not have voiced his concern to anyone else; it made for a strange bond.

"Do me a favor, Potter."

"Maybe," the dark-haired wizard said.

"If I ever get like that again--"

"You won't."

"I--"

"You won't," Harry repeated firmly.

A silence stretched.

"Right," Lucius said, "I won't. But if I do, just kill me."

Harry stood up. "I won't have to. You know why?"

The blond man turned to face him at last. "Why?"

"Because you're going to have grandchildren to spoil if Draco and Hermione keep on as they are. And…" he paused thoughtfully, "I'm going to make you godfather to one of my children."

"What?" This was as close to floored as he would ever see the elder Malfoy. He looked utterly scandalized. "You're not serious, Potter."

"You owe me a favor, don't you?"

"Yes, I suppose, but I hardly think…"

"That's the favor."

Lucius shook his head. "You're out of your mind. I'm rubbish at that sort of thing. You do not want me."

"Yes," Harry nodded. "I do. If anything happens to Ginny and I, you'll be responsible for the child. Along with whomever we choose as godmother, of course."

Lucius was still trying to wrap his head around it. "You don't even have any children!" he protested.

"I will soon."

"You mean to say…?"

Harry nodded. "Ginny is pregnant." He gave a rueful smile. "Guess that mean's we'll have to get married now. It won't be this child," he clarified. "Ron would probably murder me if he wasn't made godfather of the first born. You can have one of the next ones."

"For heaven's sake, stop talking about it like it's a bag of groceries! Besides, you'll change your mind by the time you have it."

"No," Harry smiled, enjoying his discomfiture, "I don't think I will."

Lucius looked half-disgusted and half in awe. Abruptly, his tolerance was used up and he pointed at the door. "Get out of here before I commit you to St. Mungo's."

Harry smiled like a loon the entire way home, and wondered if Malfoy was all that off in his offer of psychiatric commitment.

October 2

"He said what?" Ginny asked, her eyes widening.

"You heard me," Hermione replied, smirking. "A twenty-item list of things that, er, your brother never would have done with me."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

Ginny sat back, gobsmacked. "Anything?" she repeated.

Hermione laughed. "That's what he said and he knows I'll hold him to it. The only problem is, I'm having trouble thinking of what I should put on the list. There are a couple of obvious things…"

"Like what?"

"Well, Ron never would have taken me to the opera or to a play or to the symphony."

"True enough. That's three, right there."

"He also refused to go dancing with me."

"Draco Malfoy dances?"

"I don't know," Hermione giggled. "But he'll have to now."

"Are you talking about ballroom dancing or out at the club dancing?"

"Swing dancing would be fun, don't you think?"

Ginny looked perplexed. "What is swing dancing?"

"It's – oh, never mind. I'm probably too heavy."

"Oh, shut up."

The brunette blinked, unsure of Ginny's tone. "What is it, Gin?"

The youngest Weasley smiled wryly. "Harry knocked me up, so if anyone is going to be heavy in the near future, it's me."

Hermione nearly spit out her water. As it was, she coughed and sputtered as half the beverage went down the wrong pipe. "What?" she said weakly. "You're pregnant?"

Ginny nodded. "About 8 weeks. Must have been all that post-Puddlemere contract shagging."

"Oh, goodness. Have you told anyone else yet?"

She shook her head, her red hair shifting on her shoulders. "You know my mum will freak and insist we get married yesterday."

Hermione nodded. That was true enough; Molly dropped very unsubtle hints at least once a week.

"We'll tell soon. Harry just wants time to 'give me a proper proposal', whatever that means." Ginny shrugged. "So, anyhow…back to your list."

"Right. So, going out dancing…that's four."

"How about traveling? Malfoy's got money coming out of his ears, he ought to be able to take you somewhere nice."

"That's a good idea. He's in school, though," she frowned. "Might not have time."

"If he has time to do all these other things he can take you somewhere. What's he in school for?"

"A potions doctorate."

Ginny practically gagged. "I hate to say it, but I think you two might be perfect for one another. Who gets a potions doctorate?" She shuddered visibly at the thought.

"All right, so a trip to somewhere nice. Where would you go?" she asked.

"Fiji. Maybe Thailand…" the redhead's eyes had glazed over. Abruptly she snapped back to herself. "Harry has money, too. Why aren't I making him take me places?"

"I have no idea," Hermione responded. "You deserve it."

"Next time he's on break from quidditch, we're out of here."

"Speaking of quidditch," Hermione spoke up, and then stopped, realizing that that was the first time she had ever uttered those words. Ginny laughed at the expression on her face.

"Go on, Hermione, dear."

"Um, speaking of quidditch, when is Harry's opener? He said he wanted me to come see him play."

"It's this Sunday," Ginny answered. "It just so happens that it's against your old flame's team."

"My…old flame? Oh, Viktor."

"Yes, Viktor."

"Well, he's quite good, isn't he? They say he's one of the best seekers in the world. Along with Harry, of course."

"Yes, it should be a good match up," Ginny smiled. "I'll owl some tickets and jerseys to Hogwarts."

"Is…Ron…?"

Ginny nodded. "I will make sure he behaves himself."

Hermione snorted. "With Viktor Krum in a hundred mile radius of me? Good luck."

"You should bring Draco," Ginny said mischeviously. A rather devious grin played across her lips.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Possibly."

"Ron would kill."

"He's going to find out eventually, Hermione."

"Yes, but not like that. We really don't need him being sent to Azkaban for attempted murder."

"Ah, you're probably right," Ginny smirked. "But he is very entertaining when he's enraged over things that are his own fault." She took a sip of her strawberry milkshake – which was sure to be the first of many bizarre cravings. "Now let's focus on this list, you're only up to five."

With that, the two women culled out fourteen more dates that Hermione had always wanted to go on. However, they hit a wall with number twenty; neither of them could think of anything.

"Oh!" Ginny snapped her fingers. "All of these have been so tame, Hermione. What about something a bit more…risqué?"

"Like what?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Do you have any fantasies?"

Hermione's cheeks colored. "Er, plenty."

"Don't we all." Copper eyebrows waggled at her. "Why don't you use one of your fantasies for number twenty?"

"Um, I…I guess I could…but what if he…doesn't want to do it?"

"He's a man. If it involves you touching his bits in any way, he'll be just fine with it."

Hermione had to stifle a bark of laughter. God, she loved Ginny.

"Now you've got me curious," her companion smirked. "What's this fantasy that you're worried Draco won't want to do?"

"I can't tell you."

"Of course you can!"

"No, it's…"

"It's what?"

"Bad."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Unless it involves a copy of 'Hogwarts, a History', I doubt that."

"It doesn't," Hermione retorted, sour.

"Fantasies aren't bad, Hermione. I'll tell you one of mine." Ginny leaned forward and lowered her voice slightly. "Harry's the Minister of Magic and I'm his naughty secretary."

"It's nothing like that," Hermione mumbled, unfazed by Ginny's confession.

"Come on," Ginny pouted. "I told you!"

Hermione's eyes flickered up to her friend. Ginny wouldn't judge her, right? This wasn't that abnormal. It would be good to run it by someone like Ginny to make sure it wasn't completely bizarre…

"Ok. I…um...a…" her voice shrunk to a barely audible whisper, "threesome."

"Oh, good lord, Hermione, that is not bad! Lots of people fantasize about that." Ginny's face turned curious for a moment. "Would you want the third to be a woman or a man?"

"Man," she murmured, feeling as though her cheeks were on fire. She couldn't look Ginny in the eye.

"Mm," the redhead said. "I won't lie, I've thought about that a few times, too."

"Really?" Hermione squeaked.

"I don't think there's a person out there who hasn't."

"Have you ever…"

"Done it? No." Ginny's lips rose in another smile. "Do you have another secret Slytherin crush, besides Draco? Because I know you wouldn't ask Ron to be your third, and I wouldn't let you have Harry."

"Ugh, no, Harry has never entered my fantasies even for a second," Hermione shuddered at the wrongness of it. Harry was her friend, her brother, and could never be sexual to her.

"You didn't answer my question," Ginny said slyly. "Who's the third you're thinking of?"

"THAT I will not tell you," Hermione returned firmly, regaining some of her confidence. "I'll leave number twenty blank for now. A…wild card of sorts."

"I hope it turns out wild," Ginny snickered.

"I never should have told you!"

"Hey, you have your own ammunition, you know!"

They dissolved into giggles, and with that, Hermione had her list and Draco's fate had been cast.

October 4

Narcissa was quickly becoming nervous. She had never had a daughter, nor wanted one after growing up with two sisters. In spite of that, she wanted to comfort these girls. They were not her children, though, and she wasn't sure any contact would be welcome. She was a babysitter, essentially. The glare that the older one, Renata, continued to level at her confirmed that.

She pursed her lips. She would not be stared down by a fourteen year old. Drawing herself up, Narcissa settled her nerves and contemplated the girls. She might not be their mother, but she was a mother and more than capable of dealing with them.

"If you girls would like anything, just tell me."

"You're English," the younger one, Daniela, said.

"Yes," she smiled, unsure if it was a compliment, an insult, or just an observation.

"That explains a lot," the other girl, Renata, sniped.

Narcissa resisted the urge to use her own mother's (psychotic) discipline on the girl. Instead she settled for bluntness. "It is not my fault that your father is injured. Nor is it my fault that your mother is in danger. I would thank you to remember that, Renata."

"You don't understand anything, do you?" the girl shot back.

"I understand a great deal more than you give me credit for."

Renata snorted, but settled down. She crossed her arms over her chest and fumed silently.

Narcissa massaged her temples. The younger one seemed content to be where she was. Renata, however…Narcissa had a sneaking suspicion that the girl would try to leave at the earliest chance and do exactly what her father had warned her against – something stupid.

She stood up. "I am not your mother and I understand that you feel no need to obey me. I have been entrusted with your care, though, and as such, you will not leave this house without my consent or your father's escort. I am more than adequate at warding. Do not test me."

Daniela's eyes had gone wide and slightly fearful. Renata looked as sullen as ever. The intimidation was, perhaps, a little heavy-handed for the younger girl, but completely necessary for the older one. She had no doubt that Renata would test her.

"You're not in prison," Narcissa amended. "I don't want you to feel like you are. But I need to keep you safe."

"You think you can do that?" Renata snorted. "This is not your territory."

Narcissa felt her eye twitch. Really, the girl was not all that different from the way she had behaved at that age. It was a sour realization.

"You do not know enough about me to make assumptions about my 'territory', Renata. Now, the two of you should go to bed. It is late. Your father will probably be back in the morning and everything will be all right."

Surprisingly, Renata gave in. She gathered Daniela, who was still staring at Narcissa with wary and awestruck eyes, and followed her quietly down the hallway to one of the myriad guestrooms. The two girls settled in the massive bed together, Daniela cradled against Renata.

Narcissa couldn't help but check on them a half an hour later as the silence of the house surrounded her. It had been a while since she had a child to worry about. The girls slept peacefully, belying whatever they had been through. Exhaling, she closed the door.

She tried to retire to her own bed after reinforcing the wards. It was no good. Things were nagging at her. Why had Giacomo never told her he was a healer? Who were these people, to whom her fiancé was indebted? And where the hell was Giacomo? Her Slytherin mind would not let her be. She was missing information and that drove her insane.

As soon as the girls woke, she would question them. Daniela more than Renata, perhaps, if she could separate them. Renata wouldn't give her the information she wanted purely out of spite. The younger girl was still innocent and would talk freely. She hoped that Giacomo would talk freely, as well, when he finally returned home. For Merlin's sake, it was 2:30 in the morning! Where was her fiancé?

And so Narcissa lay there in the dark, mind racing, stomach churning, unable to do anything but wonder. Patience was a virtue, they said, but not one she was particularly good at. Sighing, she realized – this was how it used to feel to wait for Lucius. To know that he was with the Dark Lord and also to know how capricious the Dark Lord's moods were…and how he sought to drive every ounce of humanity out of her husband…that had always been torture. As was the knowledge that he'd almost succeeded. Words could not express her relief when Lucius had come to his senses.

She did not relish being back in that place, waiting for another man with even less knowledge of what the hell was going on. In all likelihood it was nothing; he was just having a late night with his friends. She couldn't shut off the part of her mind that knew of the shady underworld of Milan, though. Things happened in the shadows of old cities and men made deals in the shadows of their souls. How did she know Giacomo was any different?

At 4 am, she realized that Giacomo was not coming home. At 4:03 am, she cried out of sheer frustration. At 4:05 am, she lit his economics magazine on fire and broke his glasses. At 4:07, she downed a Dreamless Sleep potion. She needed to face tomorrow with a clear head and the only way to do that was to get a little sleep. So she drifted off, wondering if she would ever find a man who wasn't wrapped in a labyrinth of secrets…

October 6

Harry adjusted his robes and wiped sweat from his eyes. He got a whiff of his gloves as he did so; they were sweaty, and as such, quite fragrant. For October it was bloody hot. This was a day better suited to July or August.

The full-to-capacity stadium wasn't helping. The sheer enthusiasm of the Puddlemere fans was enough to generate heat. The game was deadlocked; Krum's team, the Sofia Slaughterers, was quite good. Oliver Wood was having the game of his career tending the goal hoops. The score currently rested at 180 to 170, in favor of Puddlemere. In another minute it would flip-flop, as it had been doing all game, and the stalemate would continue. This game would be made by whoever caught the snitch.

Harry chanced a look at Krum. He wasn't far off, also mopping sweat from his brow with the collar of his robes. When he finished, he looked up and caught Harry's eyes. The moment of distraction would have cost him; that is, it would have cost him if Harry had not gestured with a quick flick of his hand to indicate that a bludger was coming. Krum tucked and rolled and Harry did the same, knowing the bludger would come after him after missing its original target. He didn't know why he helped Krum. Perhaps it was because he didn't want to see arguably the world's best seeker grievously injured in a match that didn't really mean much. He knew Viktor; he didn't want to see him injured at all.

He vaguely registered that the announcers were commenting on his beneficence. It was his trademark, of course, along with Expelliarmus. Gunning his broom, Harry guided the bludger toward his beaters. Once they had dispatched it in Krum's direction, Harry pulled up and got his bearings. Where was the bloody snitch? He just wanted to catch it, win this thing, and propose to Ginny. The ring was tucked securely in an interior pocket of his robes. By now the box was probably sweaty and disgusting. Perhaps it would be best if he just held out the ring itself…

Sweet Hades, it was hot. He couldn't find the snitch. Breathing deeply, Harry tuned his senses. Impatience would only make him miss things and then he would lose the game. That simply wouldn't do.

Krum appeared near him, breathing hard. A bruise was rapidly blooming across his cheek, accompanied by a small laceration. Noticing Harry's appraisal, Viktor spoke.

"Your beaters are not as nice as you."

Harry chuckled. It was true, beaters were not paid to play nicely.

"So vat is it, Potter?" Viktor asked.

"What do you mean?" Harry replied, eyes scanning. The snitch was so hard to spot down near the stands because it blended in with the crowd. It hadn't been so bad at Caerphilly; the stands there were rarely full.

"You have fire in your eyes today. You vant to vin this match."

"I want to win every match. Don't you?"

"Is different today," the Bulgarian said, ignoring Harry's casual query.

"I'm going to ask my girlfriend to marry me if we win."

"Ah." Krum smirked. "The nice thing to do vould be for me to let you vin, yes? But how do you know I do not have pretty girl to propose to, also?"

Harry smirked right back at him. "You're already married. Hermione mentioned it to me a while back. She thought Ron might finally stop hating you because you weren't a threat anymore."

Viktor laughed. "I vas never a threat. Too many bludgers to head. Not enough brain cells for Hermione."

"Ron's the one who doesn't have enough brain cells," Harry muttered. As he spoke, Krum's eyes flickered. Harry knew without question that the other man had spotted the snitch. He followed his glance. There was the little bastard, hovering just above the crowd behind the Slaughterers' goal hoops.

"Five seconds, Potter," Viktor said. "If you cannot catch it with head start, is your own fault."

Grinning, Harry sped away.

Lucius, who had been half-dozing, was startled awake by a sudden increase in volume on the Wireless. He had finally started listening to it again. Before he had been so sick of it and had avoided it if at all possible; just another way to forget about magic. Now there was no need, and as the majority of the gossip was no longer about him, he didn't mind catching up with the wizarding world.

The white noise of a crowd in hysterical ecstasy filled the room. The broadcaster had to shout to even be heard.

"I'M JULES PADDINGTON, REPORTING LIVE FROM PUDDLEMERE STADIUM. MERE SECONDS AGO HARRY POTTER CAUGHT THE SNITCH IN A NAILBITER PREMIER VICTORY AGAINST VIKTOR KRUM'S SIDE, THE SOFIA SLAUGHTERERS! AS YOU CAN HEAR, THE CROWD IS GOING INSANE! MANY BELIEVE POTTER WILL BRING GLORY TO THIS TEAM, THE LIKES OF WHICH THEY HAVEN'T SEEN IN NEARLY FOUR DECADES!"

Lucius smiled and shook his head. Potter did tend to trail glory wherever he went, whether it was intentional or not. Realizing that it was nearing the time for his football match, Lucius stretched and went in search of his things. He hadn't gone last week on account of the sore ribs – one of Harry Potter's less glorious moments. Now he felt fit enough.

It was hot outside. He'd get good and sweaty, then. The women on the sidelines would be falling over themselves to try to get his attention. Poor things; the only muggle that had ever managed to catch his eye was Emma, and he was still uncertain about her. Perhaps she sensed it or felt the same way about him, because she hadn't contacted him in a few days. He wasn't a neurotic mess about it. Whatever happened, happened.

Merlin's beard, when was the last time he'd had that thought? Had he ever had that thought? Lucius stopped mid-motion, shirt halfway on. No. Never in his life had he been comfortable enough to just let things play out as they would. It was surprisingly relaxing.

He finished getting ready and drifted back out to the living room. Jules Paddington was still shouting, relating details of the match. Lucius half-listened as he put on his trainers and then rummaged in the kitchen for a water bottle. Maybe he'd need two today…

"BREAKING NEWS, FOLKS! BREAKING NEWS FROM PUDDLEMERE STADIUM! HARRY POTTER HAS JUST PROPOSED TO LONGTIME GIRLFRIEND GINEVRA WEASLEY!!"

Lucius dropped the water bottle on his foot. Luckily, it didn't hurt much through the trainers. It seemed that Potter didn't do anything half-ass; he would propose to Miss Weasley in the immediate aftermath of an outrageous quidditch triumph. The redhead would probably love it, too. Paddington's delirious shout piped up again a second later, confirming Lucius's suspicions.

"SHE'S SAID YES! MISS WEASLEY HAS SAID YES! YOU HEARD IT FIRST HERE, FOLKS, HARRY POTTER AND GINEVRA WEASLEY ARE ENGAGED TO BE MARRIED! WHAT A PROPOSAL! COULD YOU ASK FOR ANYTHING MORE, LADIES?"

He evidently handed the microphone off to a gaggle of women, all of whom screamed incoherently into it. Lucius chuckled and walked back into the living room to shut off the wireless. Making sure he had his keys, his water, and his boots, he made his way to the door in the best spirits he'd experienced in a while.

That was how he missed the sputter of his fireplace. It flared briefly and coughed out a sheet of parchment. The parchment floated to the carpeted floor, landing facedown. Nothing and no one followed it as the green flames died. He wouldn't notice that piece of parchment until he emerged from his bedroom the next morning – and by then, it would already be too late to stop the chain of events that had begun.