Scorpius and Rose didn't talk on the way home. Once they reached the flat, they silently went through the motions of checking on their pets and then hanging up their clothes before showering. That didn't mean they weren't communicating. Scorpius would glance at Rose questioningly and she'd nod, and when she'd give him an Are you OK? look he'd give a half-smile. He adjusted the water temperature to as hot as he could stand and stood beneath the rain shower clutching Rose like a lifeline to everything normal and sane. She clung to him until the water cooled and their fingers pruned.

"I'm glad there's no scar," Rose whispered as they huddled together in bed.

"Thanks to your Healing Charm." Scorpius smiled wryly. "I'm glad they didn't literally drool at the sight of my blood. The show of fangs was alarming enough." For one heart-stopping instant, before Sartorius and Claudio controlled themselves, Scorpius had feared bloodlust would overcome the two. If Edgar had managed to batter his way through a Shield Charm, so could vampires. He'd been a fool not to take extra precautions.

Rose burrowed closer. "We could've fought them off. We're both ace at hurling fireballs."

He said with forced lightness, "Grandfather would have never forgiven me if I'd incinerated his tailor."

The sleepy chuckle he got from Rose relaxed Scorpius enough for him to close his eyes, but not until Felix hopped down from his nest to curl up against his master's back was Scorpius able to stop thinking of ways to conjure stakes and drift off to sleep.

He dreamed that he and Rose were sleeping in a forest glade when flocks of annoyingly cheerful birds surrounded them, tweeting and hooting. He muttered a curse and threatened to throw fireballs at the next vile songbird.

Scorpius awoke to Rose giggling.

"Those vile songbirds are the alarm. It's time to get up."

He kissed her throat. "Don't want to."

She sighed. "Me either." Before he could suggest they both take a sick day, she slipped out of bed. "But I can't miss training and you . . ." Rose's eyes gleamed impishly. "You can't miss having everyone say, "Yes, Mr. Malfoy, whatever you say, Mr. Malfoy. Would you care for champagne with your lunch—"

"Brilliant idea," Scorpius said. "I'll come to the Ministry to have lunch with you and bring champagne."

"I can't drink alcohol during training hours."

"Then I'll bring food." She wasn't shaking her head; she was tempted. He said, "For all the trainees. Catered by a restaurant, not the dining hall at Malfoy Enterprises."

Rose asked teasingly, "Afraid your chefs might poison Ministry trainees?"

He wouldn't have told them who the lunch was for. "Preventing false claims of food poisoning and lawsuits."

She didn't deny the possibility. She said, "There are twenty-three in our group."

Over breakfast, Rose confirmed that trainees took their lunch break at half past twelve. He was still wearing boxers when she left. The flexibility of his schedule was another reason he'd never be an Auror. Once he'd decided on a three piece grey suit, no tie, Scorpius went to the terrace to give Antares a note informing Mrs. Jamieson of his catering need, and that he had a personal matter to attend before his ten o'clock meeting.

Warlock Comics didn't open until eleven, but Zod regularly complained that age had turned him into an early riser no matter what time he went to bed. Scorpius knocked on the employee entrance at the rear of the building. Inkvines grew along the fence separating the shops at the end of Knockturn Alley from the flats beyond, providing security and pest control. He kept an eye on the tendrils snaking toward him.

Zod answered the door as a vine tendril raised like a cobra to strike Scorpius's shoe. "Back!" Zod roared. Inkvine leaves shook. The tendril immediately retracted. "I'll have to throw out some blood meal," Zod said. "Rats are starting to avoid the alley. Blood meal will feed the inkvines and attract more prey."

"Fascinating." Scorpius drawled. "Advertising your discount merchandise?"

Zod's craggy face broke into a grin as he brushed a hand over the gold flames that created a Z on his red t-shirt. "The black ones were discount. The Gryffindor version is full price. Ha!" he said, "Can't say Gryffindors overvalue themselves when your lady was one, can you?"

Scorpius arched an eyebrow. "I can say some Gryffindors certainly do," which earned him a guffaw as they went inside. In contrast to the stark magnolia white walls of WWW's employee corridor, the long employee corridor at Warlock Comics was a gallery of Zod's favourite posters. Zod had hung a new one since Scorpius's last visit: Raven and the Green Knight fighting back to back, hoods concealing their faces.

"Thought you'd like that one. Bought it off an artist who worked for Creevey when the Multiverse comics were issued."

The urge to ask how much Zod wanted for it was almost too much to resist, but there was nowhere he could hang it, not with the Weasleys, Potters and Lupin always coming over.

"You can visit it anytime you like," Zod said, clapping Scorpius on the shoulder. "Bring Rose."

"I will."

They went into Zod's office. Rare issues were displayed on the walls inside glass cases. Scorpius sat on the one chair not used as a place to stack comics while Zod sat behind a desk covered in piles of receipts, bills, and comics. "What do you need?" Zod asked. "It must be important if you couldn't wait until Friday to ask."

Friday. Albus and Merry's dinner party. Zod's wife Annis was a Weird Sister's fan and couldn't wait to meet Merry's dad, Merton Graves. Scorpius nodded. "Have you ever fought vampires?"

"In the war? A few times. Voldemort promised them the blood of his enemies."

"How did you fight them?"

Zod stroked his dark beard. "Defensive spells and stakes, mostly."

"Is there a Stake Conjuring Charm or an instant Transfiguration spell?"

Zod's bushy brows knitted together. "Why do you ask?"

"Precautionary measures."

"Against?"

"An enquiry agent of sorts and the uncle—Great Uncle—who allowed his nephew to track someone for me. They both seem honourable. I trust Claudio to do the job." Scorpius found it increasingly difficult to meet Zod's narrowed gaze. "But I'd feel—" Less vulnerable, less of an idiot for thumbing my nose at snobbery by paying in blood. "—more at ease if I had a wider range of defence than Shield and Fire Making charms."

Zod shook his head. "Use fire as a last resort, when it's kill or be killed, and only a fool is at ease around vampires." He picked up a quill and wrote on a note pad with the Warlock Comics logo at the top. "Memorise these rules and have your lady do the same." He tore off the note and held it up. Scorpius read:

Wear an item with a permanent Shield Charm.

Attack with a Slow Motion Jinx

Never forget to carry a pick and remember Palum

Keep your distance

"Nice acrostic," Scorpius said.

"You're a wanker for getting yourself into this mess," Zod replied. He tapped the first "rule." "You may not have time to cast a Shield Charm. Those buggers are fast." He moved to the second line. "A slo-mo jinx will give you the opportunity to transfigure a harmless food pick—" He brushed the tip of his finger over the word Palum. "—into an execution stake. Doesn't mean you have to kill 'em. Stakes can immobilise, too. Hurts like hell." He rubbed his chest to the left of his heart.

"You were staked?" Scorpius asked.

"Bastard ripped it out of my hands and used it on me. That's why I created the slo-mo jinx." He seemed lost in thought for a few moments, and then said, "Next time you need a tracker, come to me. I'd do a favour for a friend."

"Thank you." He hadn't considered asking Zod for the same reason he'd never brought Edgar to Warlock Comics. Scorpius compartmentalised his life like his father and grandfather. Business and personal life kept separate. Different groups of friends kept separate. "I wish Edgar could've heard your war stories."

"Edgar Goyle? He's the one you're tracking?" Zod snorted. "Barged into this office last Easter demanding to know where you were hiding. It was a pleasure throwing him out."

Edgar was big, but Zod was bigger. Scorpius doubted Edgar had put up a struggle.

"Never told you that, did he?" Zod asked. "Guess Slytherins like their secrets."

"Sometimes," Scorpius admitted, deciding to share one. "Rose and I are trying to find a mutual friend of Edgar's to make sure she left London of her own free will."

Zod frowned. "If she's a mutual friend, why won't Goyle tell you where she is?"

"She's more his friend than ours."

"Ah." Zod was stroking his beard again.

Scorpius said, "There are a couple of villages that she's mentioned." In her diary that I happened to skim through once while looking for information about her past and her relationship with Edgar. "I didn't tell the enquiry agent. I only want him to track Edgar."

"Because?"

"Claudio's a vampire. Teryn's a werewolf."

Zod's eyebrows lifted, but he only said, "Oil and water, vampires and werewolves. Good thinking. You and Rose plan to track down this Teryn yourselves?"

Work all day, take care of the pets, and then go skulking around villages that roll up the pavement when the sun goes down, sitting for hours in pubs on the odd chance someone mentions a newcomer. Scorpius swallowed his pride and said, "Unless you have time to do us a favour."

"I make my own hours. I'm the boss." Zod picked up a quill. "I need a description of the girl, names of the villages, and any information you deem relevant."

.

Scorpius strolled into the lobby of Malfoy Enterprises fifteen minutes before his first meeting of the day. "Good morning," he told Sendak, who at first glance sat behind the security desk impassive as ever. As he drew closer, Scorpius detected a worrying sympathy in the troll's gaze. He asked, "Did my grandfather tell you to send me to his office straight away?"

Sendak nodded.

"How long ago?"

"Hour."

Hurrying now wouldn't make Grandfather Lucius any less tetchy. Scorpius said, "My first meeting is with the Head of Property. He'll present an update on the remodelling at Iron Mountain Villas. How do you think it's going?"

Sendak replied, "Barrabatta says paint is all same colour."

"The same palette?" Tenants were allowed to choose from a range of earth tones: greens, warm grey, tans and browns.

"Same as before."

Magnolia white was cheap and bland. Someone had changed the order.

"And the furnishings?"

"Same."

Scorpius clenched his jaw. "Not for long," he said, striding to the lift.

.

Mrs. Tacit started to rise from her desk when Scorpius approached Grandfather Lucius's corner office. He said, "I'll announce myself," and threw open the doors.

His grandfather put down the file he was reading. "You look ready to hex someone. Let me guess. The miscreant who stole your tie."

"A different kind of thief. I'll deal with him shortly." Scorpius sat in one of the visitor's chairs and adjusted his cufflinks while he regained composure. They had different matters to discuss. "The head of the company I mentioned last night is implementing the employee review you suggested."

"As he should." Grandfather Lucius lifted an imperious brow. "Why are you speaking in code?"

"The usual reason." When Scorpius was younger, he'd ask his grandfather to take a walk with him when he really wanted him them to go outside and play Fanged Frisbee.

"You expect Draco has his ear to the door?" His grandfather's smirk revealed he was enjoying the mental image.

"You're the one who said being paranoid doesn't mean someone isn't out to get you."

"Touché. I'll have security install listening device jammers by the end of the week." He flicked his fingers. "Go on."

Scorpius said, "A stock inventory proved there was no theft. It seems that a . . . rival of yours . . . managed to compel a manufacturer employee to give him the one I found."

Instead of scowling, his grandfather leaned toward him eagerly. "Is that person still employed by the manufacturer?"

"No."

Disappointment flashed across Grandfather Lucius's face, and then he shrugged. "Not even the Weas—manufacturer—could be that forgiving, I suppose." He sat back into his chair, mouth turned down at the corners. "Anything else you'd like to share?"

"Your rival bought out the manufacturer's stock of Incognito Potion. He didn't reveal whether it was for personal or business use, so I hired someone to track his movements. Someone with no ties to the other company."

Grandfather Lucius gave him a knowing look. He thought Scorpius had hired the agent that morning. "Well done." He picked up the file he'd been reading. Discussion over, it was back to business.

Scorpius stood. "Thank you, sir."

.

Mitchell Cole paced in front of Mrs. Jamieson's desk like a bull terrier on a short leash.

"Good morning," Scorpius said. He paused by his assistant's desk. "Ask Harrison Harper in property management to come to my office."

"Now?" Cole asked. "Harper's the newest employee in the office. He doesn't know anything about the troll housing project."

"That's to his benefit," Scorpius replied. He took the file out of Cole's white-knuckled grasp and strode into the office. The curtains were open, the morning post tidily stacked on the desk next to a catering brochure from the restaurant he'd mentioned to Mrs. Jamieson after he'd eaten there with Rose, Teryn and George. He sat in his chair and opened the brochure. The Panis Executive Lunch Tray II was circled with "for thirty" written beside it. The menu of grilled vegetables with balsamic vinaigrette, focaccia, and chargrilled beef tagliata on a bed of rucola and parmesan looked appetizing.

"You're ordering lunch?" Cole gripped the arms of his chair as if restraining himself from lunging across the desk and grabbing back his file. "What about my report?"

"In a moment." Scorpius touched the silver inkwell to engage the Protean Charm.

Mrs. Jamieson entered the room. "Mr. Harper is on his way."

He held up the brochure, pointing to one of the square plates on the executive tray. "Salame di cioccolato?"

"Dark chocolate and amaretti biscuits rolled and sliced like salami."

Scorpius had guessed as much. He'd asked to show Cole, once again, which one of them was boss. The old dog was slow to learn. "And the seasonal berries?"

"Raspberries and blackberries." Mrs. Jamieson's tone was serene, but her expression was amused.

"Thank you." Scorpius used a Vanishing Charm on the brochure and picked up the file on Iron Mountain Villas. He'd flipped through the pages until he and Cole were alone once more and then tossed it onto the desk.

It didn't take long for Cole to break the silence. "As the report shows," he said, "the project will be completed early and come in significantly under budget."

Scorpius didn't reply.

Cole tugged at his collar. "Ahem, do you have any questions?"

"One. Who changed my order regarding paint and furnishings, you or the contractor?"

Cole froze. Only his eyes moved; they slid to the file.

Scorpius said, "I believe you approved the proposed cost cutting measures without asking what they entailed. Understandable. You're the Head of Property, not a property manager. You let the contractor get on with his work and had your assistant compile the report." Something Scorpius should have anticipated. Cole was an old school executive: profit was more important than tenants' quality of life.

Cole started to relax. "Yes, that's right."

The office doors opened. Mrs. Jamieson said, "Mr. Harper is here to see you, sir."

"Thank you." Scorpius rose and went to shake his new employee's hand. "Harrison, let me introduce you to our Head of Property, Mitchell Cole." He turned to Cole, "Harrison is the new property manager for Iron Mountain Villas. Site manager, until the renovations are complete." He glanced at Harrison, who was staring, slack-jawed. "Your assistant will act as interpreter for any trolls who don't speak English." Barrabatta's presence would provide quality assurance to the tenants while Harrison ensured quality control.

Harrison said, "I look forward to meeting him."

"Her."

Cole shot to his feet. "This—"

"No need to thank me," Scorpius said. "I'm Head of Operations. It's my pleasure."

The reminder that Scorpius had the authority to enforce his decisions squashed whatever protest Cole had started to make. He sat down in his chair. Scorpius waved Harrison to the other seat and resumed his place behind the desk. They ironed out the details, and by the time the men left, Harrison's face was lit with eagerness to start work and Cole had the self-satisfied expression of a man who had delegated an undesirable task.

Scorpius felt a prickle of guilt for delegating the task of contacting Barrabatta and setting up a site office to Mrs. Jamieson, but when he started to apologise, she said, "Working for you, sir, is never a dull routine."

He chose to take that as a compliment.

.

Another meeting, post to read, and paperwork to review and sign kept his thoughts focused on business. Not until he dialled 62442 MAGIC inside the broken down telephone box in front of the Ministry of Magic did he allow himself to wonder how Rose's fellow trainees would react to his offer of lunch. What if they thought he was trying to curry favour for Malfoy Enterprises? When the box sank into the ground like a lift, his hopes sank with it. He should have asked Rose to make the offer and gauge whether the general response was positive or negative. If no one ate with them, Rose would be hurt. He pinned the silver visitor badge on his jacket. Anyone who hurt Rose's feelings would regret it.

"Atrium level," a feminine voice announced.

The door opened. Albus, in wizard robes with an Auror Trainee badge gleaming on his chest, said, "Rosie's instructors sometimes keep them a few minutes past the break. I volunteered to escort you to the canteen." He frowned. "Where's the food? I'm hungry."

"I hired a caterer."

"That's a first. Mostly people bring takeaway." Albus seemed unaware of the stares they received as they walked together past gilt fireplaces set into spell-polished dark wood. Witches and wizards stepped out of the ones on the left hand side. Albus said, "The canteen is on this level. Makes it easier for security and visitors alike."

"No accidental wandering." Or spying.

"Exactly." Albus opened a door. A muted rumble of voices spilled out.

Scorpius followed him into the canteen, which was a sea of square and rectangular tables and colourful chairs beneath an enchanted cloudy sky. There was a hot food area and one that looked self-serve.

"Subtle, isn't it?" Albus asked. "All the House colours."

It was a cheery look, even if he didn't feel at one with the wizarding world. Scorpius recognised the young man hurrying toward them with an insulated food carrier as the server from Panis. He greeted him with, "Hello, Mark. You're making deliveries now?"

"Extra job for extra pay," Mark said. He craned his neck to look past them, hoping to see Rose so he could tell his mates that he'd delivered lunch to the New Trio, Scorpius thought, until Mark asked, "Is, uh, Teryn with you?"

"She moved away."

Mark's face fell, and although his colouring was dark and he was lanky in build, he reminded Scorpius of Hugo Weasley. Mark handed over the food carrier. "Thank you for choosing Panis. Return the dishes at your convenience."

"Sure you don't need help finding Teryn?" Albus said in an undertone as Mark walked away.

"I asked Zod to find her. He has free time and she's never met him."

Albus's eyes widened. If he ever needed glasses, Scorpius would advise him not to choose round ones. He looked owlish enough already. "Last night? After everything else? When did you and Rosie sleep?"

"I asked him a few hours ago." Scorpius saw Rose enter the canteen. Her head was held high, her posture regal. She didn't expect her colleagues to dine with them. He shoved the food carrier at Albus and went to meet her.

He'd intended to kiss Rose's cheek, but changed his mind and kissed her lips before smiling at the group behind her. "Thank you for accepting my invitation. I recognise faces, but I don't think we formally introduced ourselves at Hogwarts." Scorpius held out his hand to the closest trainee. "Goldstein, isn't it? Ravenclaw did Slytherin a favour keeping you as reserve Keeper."

"I don't know about that," Goldstein said as they shook hands, but he seemed pleased.

Scorpius made his way through the group, sharing something, however trivial, that he remembered about each person. He didn't recall everyone's name. He'd never cared to know all the students in his year. It didn't matter. The fact that he remembered a Hufflepuff girl who got top marks for her Summoning Charm and the Gryffindor who cast a Cheering Charm that sent his mate laughing hysterically to the Hospital Ward was enough to thaw their reserve. Out of all the trainees, only four said they'd already made plans to eat with a friend. When Scorpius invited the friends to join them, two of the trainees, Hufflepuff girls, happily went to pull their lunch dates out of a food queue.

"Did you know he could be charming?" Albus asked Rose after the group had pulled tables together and sat down to eat. "I mean, to people other than you."

The trainees sitting across the table and on either side of Scorpius, Rose, and Albus seemed to find the comment amusing.

Rose smiled at Scorpius. "I'm still in shock."

He curled his upper lip. She laughed, which everyone took as a signal to relax and eat and talk instead of staring around awkwardly. Thank Merlin. Being friendly and putting people at ease was bloody hard work. Worth it, to see the tension leave Rose's face and hear her chat easily with the other trainees, but not something he'd want to do on a regular basis. It gave him a headache. Scorpius left his Salame di cioccolato untouched and enviously watched Ministry employees leave the canteen.

Ted Lupin walked in, brown haired and Auror serious.

"Uh oh," Albus said. "I forgot to invite Cousin Teddy to lunch."

"I'll do that now," Scorpius said. He walked over to Ted. "Hello, cousin. Good to see you!" In a quieter tone, he said, "I'm here to have lunch with Rose, no ulterior motives."

"What? You're not here to bribe trainees into selling secrets they don't know?" Ted smirked. "I'm here to buy my godfather some lunch, since he'd rather skip it and be able to leave on time to have dinner with his wife."

Scorpius gestured to the carrier bag at the end of the table. "There are extra trays if you want to skip the queue."

Ted asked, "What kind of meat?"

"Chargrilled steak."

"Make it two. I can always eat." Ted nodded to the trainees who had fallen silent as they watched Scorpius give him two of the lunch trays. With a wolfish smile, he told Scorpius, "Thanks, cousin!"

.

A/N: I had planned to have Rose and Scorpius find Teryn this chapter, but plot happened, so next chapter will be End and Epilogue. Tagliata is Italian for sliced steak, and the Executive Lunch Tray II is an actual tray that can be ordered from the catering company StandByChef that delivers around London. Anyone who has time and mild curiosity can Google the lunch tray and see what it looks like and see the price in Galleons—I mean, GBP. :D

Special thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter: Aikawa Ayame, alix33, Connected-by-a-Semicolon, fynnsmom, Guest (the last chapter was actually longer than the one before, but maybe it had more dialogue. Dialogue reads faster!) Mme bookworm, Needle In A Haystack, Rose of the West and VandyFNP.