Guy snorted with amusement, but the others looked ready to gag. "It's sterilised," Scorpius said.

Nathaniel blinked like an owl. "The mongoose?"

"The coffee." The wild civet cats that digested the coffee fruit but not the beans were mongoose-like, not actual mongooses, although Nathaniel probably wouldn't care about the distinction. Scorpius thanked Hobbes for his service and asked him to convey his guests' appreciation to Mr. Bean at the Conjured Cup. No one protested when the coffee cups vanished along with the house-elf.

"Full of surprises, jus' like old times. Good show, Malfoy," Guy said. He slid an arm around Orna and Magaera's waists. "Always wanted to try three-way Apparation. Ready, girls?"

"Another night," Scorpius said. He checked his watch. "The squire cab I hired is waiting outside the Leaky Cauldron."

"A three-way stroll, then," Guy said, "unless Mags invites Nathaniel to make it a foursome."

"Not in this lifetime," Magaera said.

Guy snickered. "Naught for Nott." The three weaved their way toward the open end of the alley.

Nathaniel's shoulders slumped. "I don't need a ride home, anyway. They drank most of the champagne."

"I apologise for inviting Magaera," Scorpius said. "Was she always such a hag?"

"Yes." Nathaniel sighed.

No accounting for taste, Scorpius supposed. He said, "I'm free for lunch Tuesday. Noon, at the club?"

"Sure. Brilliant!" Nathaniel smiled shyly at Rose. "Nice talking to you at dinner." He Disapparated.

In the silence that followed, Scorpius noticed what had escaped his detection before. There were no wind chimes: a troubling oversight. Fairies were soothed and attracted by the tinkling of bells and chimes. Even on days with no breeze, whispers of air made his mother's fairy garden ring with ethereal music.

"Finally, we can go home," Rose said. She put a hand on her hip. "We need to talk."

"Wait." He took out his wand and conjured a wooden bowl. "Lactum." Scorpius placed the milk filled bowl in the planter next to the shrub with broad green leaves, but the fairy who had peeped up at them remained hidden.

"They don't trust us," Rose said. "I can't blame them."

"It's more than that. The plantings are spot on, but there are no wind chimes, no bubbling fountains." Something was wrong. "Can you verify whether Terry actually consulted with an agent from the department of Magical Creatures?"

"Yes, but why would he lie?"

"To impress you." And stop my questions. "Maybe he thought it sounded better than 'I read it in a book'."

Rose shook her head and then Disapparated.

Scorpius reached into his pocket for the money pouch spelled to deaden the rattle of coin and emptied the Galleons into his hand. After casting Transfiguration and Imperturbable Charms, he hung the wind chimes on shrub branch. "There. No one will steal them from you." He brushed a finger across the miniature golden tubes. The resulting chime was followed by the buzz of fairy wings.

.

He found Rose in the penthouse kitchen. The auburn of her hair was a blaze of colour against white tiles and marbled granite. Barefoot, wrapped in his favourite grey robe, she lifted a saucepan from the cooker and poured hot chocolate into white beakers with triple W logos painted on the sides. She handed one to Scorpius.

"Promotional items?" he asked.

"Beakers of Truth. If you don't answer my questions, your milk curdles."

If she'd kept a straight face, he might have believed her, but her lips twitched. Scorpius said, "I'll keep that in mind."

She wrapped her hands around her beaker as if she took comfort from the warmth. "What did Marianne say to you at dinner?"

"Charity can be taken too far." He took a sip of hot chocolate. "You being the charity."

Rose's eyes flashed. "What a bitch. I shouldn't have tipped over my wineglass."

"A well-timed distraction," Scorpius said. He set his beaker on the worktop. He preferred bitter chocolate.

Rose set her beaker down and crossed her arms over her chest. "I saw your expression and thought if looks could kill."

"Choke. I considered making Marianne choke on her words, but I wouldn't have killed her, because if she died, Edgar would be a widower only until Mother Goyle found a new pure-blood daughter-in-law." Scorpius smiled thinly. "Malfoys don't believe in pointless death."

"That isn't what I meant."

He picked up his beaker of hot chocolate and set it down again. "'This needs something to balance the sweetness." He walked out of the kitchen and into the lounge to the drinks cabinet. He returned with two bottles, peppermint schnapps and tequila.

"Tequila mint?" he asked.

"No thanks."

Scorpius added a splash of schnapps and a double amount of tequila into his beaker. "I'm not getting drunk," he said. "As Nathaniel pointed out, the threesome drank most of the champagne."

"I never thought you'd kill Marianne literally," Rose said.

He drank some of the spiked chocolate and added another shot of tequila. "You worried that I'd murder her figuratively?"

Rose uncrossed her arms and tightened the sash at her waist, but didn't secure it with a bow or a knot. "I worried Guy would notice you staring daggers at his sister." She twisted one of the ends of the sash. "Isn't that why you wanted to dance? You needed a break from sitting next to Marianne?"

"That was one reason." He slid his arms around Rose's waist. "Aren't you going to ask about the others?"

"I think I know." She twined her arms around his neck. They swayed together, slow dancing to the rhythm of heartbeats instead of music. Scorpius slid a finger between her sash and robe and tugged.

Rose said, "You could have ruined the evening by ordering that coffee. Why did you do it?"

She was ruining the mood by asking non-stop questions. "It was supposed to be a private joke about my Patronus." He couldn't remember his schoolmates ever drinking coffee at Hogwarts. Everyone drank tea. Scottish Breakfast in the mornings, drowned in milk by the house-elves. "You were the one who insisted on knowing how it was processed."

"Do you know how it's processed?" Her arms dropped to her sides.

He gave her sash a final tug. "Villagers scavenge the forests for scat and extract the beans."

Rose lifted her chin. "Or they cage civets and force-feed them."

Scorpius let go of the sash. It slid to the floor. "The Conjured Cup only serves fair trade coffee," he said. "Their kopi luwak isn't sourced from abused animals."

"The demand causes abuse." Her voice trembled. "The animals can't climb, can't hide. They pace their filthy cages until they sicken and die."

"Sounds Muggle." Muggles industrialised everything, including animals. He'd learned about factory farms in Muggle Studies. "What do you expect me to do about it?"

"Ask Mr. Bean not to sell a coffee that subsidises animal cruelty."

"A coffee that sells for five Galleons a cup."

Rose stared. "That's obscene."

"It's business. Supply and demand." Scorpius carried his beaker to the sink and dumped the rest of his hot chocolate. "I'm going to take a bath." Rose didn't respond.

His bathtub was freestanding and modern; long enough for him to float in what some would consider an obscene amount of water. Since Rose wasn't likely to join him, he adjusted the tap to a cooler temperature than she preferred and decided to forgo bubbles. He slid into the water and closed his eyes.

A short time later, he heard the click of the bathroom door opening. Rose came over to perch on the side of the tub. "Are we having a row?" she asked.

He sat up, eyeing the sash loosely tied around her waist. "If I say yes can we make up?"

"I'd rather talk."

"About what? The ethics of civet coffee? I'll speak with Mr. Bean. About my friends—if I stretch the meaning of the word like an extendable ear—I'd rather not. Except for Nathaniel, who surprised me by being a decent human being, I wasted time and Galleons on a group of people who aren't worth the effort."

"Not even Edgar?"

"He's the biggest fool of all." Scorpius slid beneath the water and held his breath, counting.

"140 seconds. Impressive," Rose said when he came up for air.

"I was calming down, not showing off."

"Did it work?"

Scorpius raked his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face. "Dancing with you was the only thing that went right tonight."

"Not true," Rose said. "Nathaniel and I talked about being trainees over dinner. Where do you think he works?"

The lilt in her voice told him the answer. "The Walpurgis Club." Scorpius lunged forward to pull her into the water, into his arms. Her lips were tantalisingly close. He said, "You're wearing my robe. Give it back."

Her eyes sparkled. "Guess what position he's training for?"

"Tell me."

Rose untied the robe and let it slip from her shoulders. "Club historian and record keeper."

.

.

Author Note: It's sad that the drive for profit results in animal cruelty. Scorpius and Rose won't have the same viewpoint on every issue, but disagreements can bring a couple closer, in or out of the bath. ; ) Special thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: alix33, drcjsnider, Elizabeth-nightwatchman, fynnsmom, Lana, NaginiFay, Needle In A Haystack, Nocturna Mae, Rose of the West, SGed, scribbleeexx, WithLove01, and yiota146.