Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I'd have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It's an amazing series, and I recommended both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.

This story takes place after the war.

3rd POV

Evelyn followed behind Lucky, who had met her and her new elfin friends at the foyer of the manor, and found herself being led out towards the largest garden area, if it could be even called that, she had ever seen. It captured her attentions immediately. And by that, she meant it was stunning. She couldn't even articulate the emotions swarming her stomach at the magnificent sight.

There was a long cobbled pathway, attached to the stone stairway that they were stepping down, and on either side of said pathway, there were rows upon rows of beautiful, sweet-smelling, vibrant flowers, surrounded with insects, and just the essence of nature itself. The sun beat down on the back of her already-tanned neck, and strangely enough, she had thought she would have worked up some kind of a sweat by now, however there was an odd cooling sensation that had blanketed her lithe form. There was a cool breeze, that chilled her spine, and in the distance, she was sure she could see exotic birds and woodland animals gallivanting through the open space; a large, circular fountain being the main attraction piece near the far left of the garden itself. The path reached all corners of the estate, and she presumed that if she had followed it on, until its end, she would find herself miles and miles away from her current position.

Foliage surrounded us, trees as high as the skyscrapers in New York towered over her short frame, and she couldn't stop herself from marvelling at the sanctuary itself. Whomsoever created this was not only a genius, but they had to have been a spectacular person, inside and out, to build an area of such intense, magnificent splendour. She was being led towards a high canopy, of sorts, closed off by an elevated, brass gate, made up of swirling, enchanting patterns, and as Lucky pushed it open, she was hit with the familiar scent of a honeysuckle, rose and lavender blend. Someone was making tea, and it smelt delectable.

Lucky held out his arm, respectfully, and she continued on, cautiously, expecting the worst. She pulled back the curtain, blocking her vision from whoever was behind it, and was met with the shocked, and awed gaze of three people; Draco, Narcissa and Blaise. The two men seemed unable to take their eyes off of her, and she felt ever so self-conscious, and idly wondered if she had anything on her face. Blinking, vacantly, she struggled to find the words to introduce herself to the two men she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with, and sighed, giving up on finding some kind of intelligent introduction, and mumbled, pathetically, "Hi," with a reserved smile.

That seemed to shatter whatever ice had formed around them, and Draco shot out of his seat, and he walked over to her, slowly, and it was as if he were being precautious, as though he thought she would sprint away the first chance that she got. He replied, quietly, "Hello," and smiled in a way that set all of his features off brightly, and under the rays of the sun, he truly looked like an angel. Blaise had yet to move from his spot, and as she glanced at him, she noticed how tightly his fists were wound, and how he couldn't even look in her direction.

Her first thought was immediately negative, and she couldn't help but keen - of course I've done something wrong, how fucking embarrassing - however Draco sensed her discomfort, and he stared at her, questioningly. Her ultramarine eyes subconsciously flickered behind him, and he turned to follow her line of vision, only to sigh, understandingly. He turned to me, and apologised, "Blaise has trouble with his.. Other side sometimes. Your scent is especially difficult for him, he'll be okay," and the comfortingly, he added, "Don't be afraid."

That sparked something within Blaise, and he stood them, a determined streak in those indigo, profound, intelligent eyes, and he regarded me with the utmost politeness and sincerity as he introduced himself, "Hello, Evelyn," and he walked over to me, and grasped her hand in his much cooler one, and brought them to his lips.

For a brief moment, she thought he might bite her or something, but he didn't; he simply kissed the skin of her knuckles, and rubbed soothing circles with his thumb, over the slightly pulsating spots where his lips touched. she found that she wasn't against him holding her hand, and Draco did the same, taking her fingers and interlocking them with his own. It wasn't entirely personal, nor was it intrusive, but it offered a sense of protection, and she found that she liked it.

"Please, join mother for tea," Draco said, his British accent catching off guard, slightly, and caused her to swoon a little on the spot. She followed his steps, and he set her down, softly, in a fairly sturdy chair, opposite his mother, who simply grinned at me, delight swimming in her ice-blue orbs - the eyes her son had acquired from her, she believe, and she offered Evelyn a cup of warm tea. Blaise and Draco sat on either side of me, both of their hands atop the fawn tablecloth, identical sheepish expressions on their faces.

"Yes, thank you," and she waited until she had finished pouring me a cup of cream tea, and when she held out the sugar cubes, she said, sheepishly, "4, please."

Blaise gave me a strange look, and she offered, "I have a sweet tooth," with an blithe shrug, and he seemed to shiver, slightly. It could have been her mind playing tricks on me, however, so she disregarded it, quickly.

"So.. How are you finding our world, then, Evie?," Narcissa asked, innocently, however she could hear the implication in her voice, and she replied, tactfully, "I like it here, its.." then not finding an appropriate word, she finished, "Its perfect."

Draco enquired, airily, "Are you familiar with magic?"

She shook her head, embarrassed, "No, I didn't know it existed until a few days ago. I mean, I'm 17, and I cant imagine the things that you can do," and she bit her lip, anxiously. Blaise sucked in a sudden breath, and she felt her forehead crinkle, exponentially. She asked him, finding herself strangely relaxed with the people I'm around, "Are you feeling okay, Blaise?"

He paused, briefly, and, in a quiet voice, he asked, "You know of me?"

Grinning, brightly, she answered, honestly, "Of course. Valencia doesn't stop talking about you," and blushed brightly, over the insinuation of her statement. Draco shuffled in his seat, slightly, and she turned to him, confused, and he placated, dutifully, "Getting comfortable, is all."

Evelyn raised an disbelieving eyebrow, but dropped the subject, and sipped her tea, quietly, the ardent liquid warming her mouth, and she swirled the sweet tasting fluid across her tongue, and relished in the intense, sugary taste that swarmed and tantalised her taste buds. Placing the balmy porcelain teacup atop the buttery doyley, she turned to Narcissa and complimented, "Your grounds are beautiful, Narcissa."

She clicked her tongue, and waved a dismissive hand in the air between them, and ordered, "You are to call me Cissy, everyone does," to which Draco felt his heart clench wildly for a moment, before settling deep in his stomach. His mother and his potential life mate were actually getting along - this was better than any dream his psyche could have conjured, and he watched on as the two most important women in his life laughed and joked with one another, seated daintily in their chairs. Blaise, noticing Draco's tense nature, and assuming the worst, reached out and, covertly, grasped his hand in his own, rubbing soothing circled above his thumb, causing the blonde to sigh, happily, an unknown emotion bubbling in his chest, threatening to spill from his tightly drawn lips.

What could this possibly have been?

Anxiety? No, that feels more like pricking pins against the surface of the skin, whereas this sensation was more like a frivolous winds, caressing the hairs on his arms, teasing him into oblivion. It wasn't uncomfortable in the slightest, but it was strange. He didn't like not knowing what's going, especially within his own body, so he would have to look this up when he was on his own. Blaise whispered, quietly, in his younger lover's ear, "She's pretty much perfect, isn't she?"

Draco nodded, unable to speak as a ray of sunlight brushed against his mate's face, and.. He couldn't even describe what she looked like, but the look on his face said it all. Blaise could see it, Hell, his mother could see it. He was smitten with her. And all it took was a few choice words, and a pointed smile, and he was done for. Draco sighed, and reclined in his chair, his heart beating ever so rapidly in his chest, watching the love of his life laugh, adorably, at something his mother said, "What are we going to do, Blaise?"

His only response was a simple shrug, and a gentle squeeze of his hand.