The following evening, an owl delivered a packet marked Fragile. Inside was another packet stamped Authorised Use Only. Scorpius brought it into a kitchen filled with the pungent aroma of Thai fish sauce and garlic. Rose stirred peppers in a wok on the cooker. She'd removed her Ministry robes and sensible heels. He watched her rub the sole of her left foot against her right calf and asked, "Are you imitating a crane because you're making stir fry?"

She grimaced. "I found out the Comfort Charms on my shoes weren't permanent." She used a spell to extinguish the flame under the wok. "Is that the Polyjuice Potion?"

"Unless Uncle Harry added the urge to send a housewarming present to his Memory Charm." He gave her the packet and lifted her by the waist to sit on the marble worktop. "You do the honours." He raised her injured foot for inspection. No bruises or blisters. He said, "Permanent force-absorption spells take a skill level that some companies don't wish to pay for." He ran a thumb along her arch and then pressed a spot halfway between the heel and the ball of her foot.

"Oh!" Rose's expression told him that the massage gave sweet relief.

"My mother stands on her feet for hours in the lab and often wears shoes purchased on impulse," he said. "I think my father presses more at an angle." He repositioned his thumb. "Same pressure?"

"A little more. Perfect." Rose sighed and then asked, "Did I hear you say Uncle Harry?"

"He is married to your aunt." He took back the packet and opened it since she was too busy giggling. There was a note wrapped around a tiny clear flagon filled with what appeared to be sentient mud that blew bubbles to communicate.

The Potions Master who brewed this guarantees two hours efficacy.

Scorpius showed the note to Rose, who said, "Edmund Blofeld is the Head of the Auror Forensics and Potions division. He's a legend."

"Fortunate for me. Merlin knows what Nott Polyjuice will taste like." He tried to imagine the layout of the Walpurgis Club. Grandfather didn't have an architectural blueprint of the place, and Scorpius had only seen the lobby and dining hall.

Rose said, "It has to taste better than Orna's. Hers would be worse than Gurdyroots." She hopped down from the worktop. "Not even a little smile? I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. I was laughing at myself because I didn't realise I'd miss how sexy you make 'Potter' sound until you said 'Uncle Harry' instead." She rubbed his upper lip with her fingertip. "Sometimes you curl this just enough to make you look like a rock star."

He curled his lip. "The Green Knight is better than any rock star." Scorpius returned the vial to its protective packet and set it aside. "You didn't hurt my feelings. I was trying to figure out where to stash Nott while I take his place."

Rose picked up the knife he had used to chop vegetables. "Do we need to have another partners not hero/sidekick discussion?"

"No."

"Good. I think you should keep it simple. Stick him under his desk and cast a Disillusionment Charm."

"All right."

She lowered the knife to the butcher's block. "I also think that you should make the prawn stir fry while I take a bubble bath."

He shook his head. "I can't let my partner bathe alone. I have to be there to massage whatever needs massaging. We'll make the stir fry together, later."

Rose swayed forward as if to kiss him and then spun on her heel and darted from the kitchen. "First one there chooses the bubbles!"

She won and chose an herbal bubble bath formulated to sooth aches and pains. Hours later, after an energetic bath and a relaxing dinner, they hid coins around the flat for Felix to hunt during the night. Scorpius placed a Galleon on the seat of a dining room chair and remembered the sensation of other diners furtively watching him at the Walpurgis Club. When would he be able to gather what he needed for the Polyjuice Potion?

"Thoughtful is a sexy look on you too," Rose said as he slipped beneath the covers and lay on his side facing her. "Bit pouty, very kissable."

He kissed her. "I can manoeuvre a tour of the club and Nott's office tomorrow at lunch, but I can't pick a hair off his robes. It's too suspicious. We were never that chummy and the dining hall's a fishbowl."

"You mean a shark tank."

The corners of his mouth tugged upward. "Aquarium, perhaps. Not all Knights are sharks. Most are pilot fish feeding on the leftovers of the host species, metaphorically speaking."

Rose's eyes gleamed. "I can see Lucius tossing the peasants crusts of bread."

"Risk crumbs soiling his robes?" Scorpius playfully sneered. "Déclassé."

Her laugh shook her torso enticingly. "What's the new plan?" she asked.

He widened his eyes innocently. "Plan?"

She ran a hand across his chest and then pinched. "I never said you couldn't have ideas. I'm not trying to be managing. I just want to be included." Her fingers circled what she'd pinched.

The ideas he was having weren't about Nathaniel Nott. He entwined their fingers to improve concentration. "The Slytherin room at the Sleazy Kneazle would be a unique place to have a party. With all the distraction, it should be easy to lift a hair off the shoulder of Nott's robes."

"I could do it for you," Rose said.

"Then you agree the party's a good idea?" he asked smoothly. Too smoothly, by Rose's narrowed gaze.

"Define party," she said.

"A social gathering of invited guests." He tightened his grip when she tried to pull her fingers free. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. No more pinching, please. It's too stimulating." He kissed her hand. "If I invited everyone who was in my year, no one guest in particular would stand out. Except you."

"Because I'm so stimulating."

"As well as beautiful." He released her fingers and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. "And brilliant. Bold." His smile was an invitation.

Rose didn't take the opportunity to find clever ways to explore his body. She said, "Before we throw a reunion party for Slytherin House, I think we need to invite my family over for dinner."

Reassure them that he wasn't luring her to the Dark side before creating another splash in the papers? Hers wasn't the only family that needed reassuring. "I'll invite my parents. Ask them to help me make pizzas in my new oven. Father will feel less nervous if he can help." If Scorpius was lucky, Mr. and Mrs. Stevens would volunteer to handle everything else. "Shall we say Saturday evening?"

"What's the occasion?"

Besides using the pizza oven insert to his new barbeque? The note of uncertainty in Rose's voice kept the flippant words unspoken. He didn't need to use Legilimency to know she was remembering him telling her parents that he wouldn't tell anyone they were living together. He wouldn't break his promise. If her family made assumptions based on her personal items scattered around the flat and Mini Crookshanks's presence on his bed that was nothing to do with him. He said, "Housewarming party."

.

Scorpius stopped by his father's office before heading to the Walpurgis Club for lunch. The interior designer had chosen heavy dark furnishings, perhaps to impress visitors with the gravity of Legal Affairs. Slytherin green velvet draperies blocked the window. Draco Malfoy seemed unaffected by his dreary surroundings. He sat at his desk, smirking faintly as he read the Daily Prophet.

"Let me guess. Grandfather submitted another letter to the editor."

His father chuckled and tossed the paper onto the desk. "No, the letter writer is Hermione Weasley, posing as an anonymous citizen demanding an enquiry into the mistreatment of fairies at that night club, Lumos Duo." His father rose to his feet and came around the desk to shake Scorpius's hand and pat him on the arm—the Slytherin equivalent of a Gryffindor bear hug.

"Why is that amusing?" Scorpius asked.

"It isn't. Not the fairy mistreatment." His father's smile turned sheepish. "I think it's funny that she still believes anonymity hides the authorship of her letters." He waved Scorpius to a visitor's chair and perched on the edge of his desk. "When I was at Hogwarts, there used to be an advice column in Witch Weekly called Dear Wise Wizard. Pansy Parkinson entertained our common room by reading aloud the letters." He grinned like a schoolboy. "One was from a girl who never claimed to know all the answers. It was obviously Granger asking for help getting Weasley to declare his feelings. No one else figured it out, but I laughed so hard." He said wistfully, "It was the only good laugh I had that year."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. The past only hurts if we allow it. What brings you to my office? Do you want to go to lunch?"

"I'm meeting Nott." Scorpius took the translucent vellum envelope out of his suit pocket. "I came to deliver this."

"An invitation? Written in your enviably fine hand?" His father opened the envelope and scanned the invitation. "Housewarming?"

"Informal. Mostly Rose's family. I thought you and Mum could help me make pizzas."

His father burst out laughing. When Scorpius didn't laugh with him, he stopped. "You're serious."

"Afraid so. Don't tell Grandfather."

Instantly, his father's expression switched from dismay to resolve. "Don't worry, son. Your mother and I will be there for you."

"Thank you." He shook his father's hand and left.

.

Nathaniel Nott was pacing the lobby of the Walpurgis Club when Scorpius arrived.

"They'll dock your pay if you wear a hole in the carpet," Scorpius said.

Nott gave a nervous chuckle and glanced around as if checking for holes. "Good one, Malfoy."

"Call me Scorpius, Nathaniel." Friends used first names.

"Right. We're not at Hogwarts anymore." Nathaniel sighed.

Scorpius nodded toward the club manager bustling toward them. "I believe our table is ready." In short order, they were escorted to a table close to the one he had shared with Grandfather Lucius, served the wine his grandfather arranged to have ready, and had the server inform them that their lunch would also be ready shortly.

"So nice to have left school and make one's own decisions," Scorpius drawled once he and Nott—Nathaniel—were left to enjoy the Chenin Blanc. Nathaniel's braying laugh turned heads. Scorpius said, "A Great Hall filled with Slytherins, isn't it?"

"Yeah." The thought seemed to relax Nathaniel. He took a sip of his wine and then said, "I used to think Goyle laughed a lot because he was a stupid toady, but he isn't stupid at all, and you're funny."

Their server returned with their lunches: elegant dishes of fish pie. Scorpius thanked the server.

Nathaniel grinned. "Even the food's the same!"

Scorpius said dryly, "At least no one will sing, 'Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy, Warty, Hogwarts." He steered the conversation to the Walpurgis Club itself, admiring the architecture and asking about its history. He and Nathaniel chatted their way through lunch. Scorpius declined anything else but encouraged his friend to try the lemon-curd cakes.

"No poppy seeds," Nathaniel said. Once the server retreated, he confessed, "They make you test positive for illegal substance use."

"Do they test you often?"

"It's random." Nathaniel seemed proud to admit, "You need a high security clearance to be a historian and records keeper."

"What if you want to show a mate round your office?" Scorpius asked. "Do I need a security clearance?"

"You want to see my office?"

"The whole club if you have time to give a tour."

"You're serious?"

That seemed to be the question of the day. Scorpius leaned forward. Once Nathaniel did the same, Scorpius said in a conspiratorial tone, "Can you keep a secret?"

"Of course!"

Scorpius glanced left and right as though making sure no one could overhear and whispered, "Those history of magic lessons everyone complained about being boring? I liked them." He'd liked the history itself enough to overlook Binns's lecture style.

Nathaniel beamed. "Me too!" He was still shaking his head in amazement as he wolfed down the lemon-curd cakes. The server appeared the moment he was finished to whisk his plate away and inform them that Monsieur Lucius Malfoy had also taken care of the bill. "I'll send him a note of thanks," Nathaniel said as they left the dining hall. "That place is expensive. Sometimes I think I work for food." He led Scorpius into a hazy room filled with old wizards smoking pipes. "Note the busts of Slytherin greats and the statue of the Bloody Baron before his, erm, untimely end."

"Noted."

The tour continued. Ballroom, billiards room, solarium—which had once been a gambling saloon—and library: Nathaniel pointed out the details of interest with the assured manner of a professional guide. He smiled when Scorpius remarked on it. "I have loads of relatives."

Finally, they descended down a winding staircase to the lower levels. It was like visiting the servants' wing of a manor. No money wasted on ornamentation. The corridor narrowed until it ended at their destination. Inside, the Records Room was nothing like the small office jammed with filing cabinets Scorpius had pictured. He stared in awe. "It's a cave of wonders."

"Isn't it? I say, 'Open Sesame' when I open door if no one's around."

They stood on a landing. Another staircase took them down to the floor of the cavernous room filled with shelf after shelf of leather bound records. "How do you find anything?" Scorpius asked.

Nathaniel pointed to the tall row of mahogany filing cabinets acting as a divider between his cluttered workspace and the office head's highly polished desk. The cabinet drawers opened on both sides. "Those are the current files." He gestured to the walls of records. "Only the Head Historian can access the Annals of Greatness."

Scorpius burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. "Annals of greatness?"

Nathaniel snickered. "Once, in an inter-office memo, I spelled it anal." His laughing confession set Scorpius off again, which made Nathaniel laugh harder. "Oh gods, my side hurts. I ate too much. I say, have you always had that dimple on your cheek?"

The urge to laugh died as if struck down by a Killing Curse. "Are you referring to the bifid zygomaticus major muscle that I prefer no one see or talk about?"

"Y—yes? Not that I'd tell anyone. Ever. It'll be a secret between friends."

Scorpius silently cast a mild Gumminess Spell on his right palm and clapped Nathaniel on the shoulder. "Thank you."

"I'll even give a Wizard's Handshake," Nathaniel said earnestly.

And rub off the hair he'd picked up? "No need." Scorpius asked questions about Nathaniel's duties as a trainee historian and records keeper until the Head Historian returned.

"I was just showing Lucius Malfoy's grandson out," Nathaniel told his boss. In the outer corridor, he said, "Pardon the name dropping. Historian Arcoiris would have lectured me on security protocol otherwise."

"I understand." They retraced their path through the club. Scorpius wrestled with his conscience every step of the way. He had Nathaniel's hair. He didn't need to book the Slytherin bordello room at the Sleazy Kneazle anymore. He no longer had an excuse to throw a party to outshine all parties.

"Today was fun," Nathaniel said when they stood in the lobby.

"Yes, it was." Scorpius decided to act first and ask forgiveness later. He said, "So was our dinner on Saturday, and it's given me an idea."

.

.

A/N: Arcoiris, I borrowed your name since you inspired by looking forward to Scorpius's lunch with his dad. I was thinking about that when I was writing and decided if they couldn't have lunch together, I could have Scorpius stop by Draco's office and give him something to laugh about. The Wise Wizard advice column comes from a one shot I wrote called Dear Snarky Severus in which Dumbledore is the Wise Wizard penning advice to his unsuspecting students, and Snape is the reluctant guest columnist, the Sagacious Sorcerer. I almost had Scorpius say, "Did you . . . fancy her?" after Draco shared the story about Hermione, but Draco's reply no, and he hadn't fancied Ginny Weasley or any of the other girls gossips paired him with, either, that he'd been too busy trying to appease Voldemort to save his family, wasn't needed, because his laughter showed better than my words (which would have been a joke about all of us who used to write Draco/love interest of choice fan fics) would have told, and I couldn't see the thought even crossing Scorpius's mind. Rose's joke that Orna's potion would taste worse than Gurdyroots was what Hermione said about taking the potion to become Bellatrix. :)

Readers interested in Draco and Astoria's courtship inspired me to write the one shot Four Funerals and a Wedding. Thanks to everyone who has already read and reviewed!

The people who cross my mind when I write and I want to thank for reviewing the last chapter are: alix33, alleaf (hope you're looking forward to the family time!), Arcoiris, Beauty Eclipsed, drcjsnider, fynnsmom, glassycry, Needle In A Haystack, Rose of the West, seelieprincess, trinityblue76 and yiota146!