Chapter 3. The Malfoys: New Life
"I have two news for you: one is unexpected and the other – encouraging."
Lily looked up from the book she was trying to read while her brother and her husband wandered around the house, with feigned clever looks, getting in Xenia's way now and again.
"Scor…"
"I am not letting you decide which news you want to hear first," Malfoy interrupted her. Strangely, he'd changed his clothes, and was now standing before her in a dark suit, albeit without a tie. From upstairs, where James had gone, came a chuckle, which Lily ignored.
"So?" this did not bode well.
"Tonight, we are dining at my parents'," Scorpius spoke slowly, looming over her, letting the full meaning of his words sink in. A smirk played on his lips – her reaction to his tidings must be exactly as he'd expected.
The book slid to the floor. Lily was at a loss for words. While she was searching for them, Malfoy continued, seeking to put her fears to rest at once:
"Xenia's parents are in town, which means that she and Potter are also invited. As are your parents."
If Malfoy expected the stunned Lily to exhale in relief, he was mistaken. The girl was staring at him, wide-eyed and looking almost terrified.
"I…" she attempted to clear her throat and tried again: "Have I met your parents before?" She searched her memory for any trace of such an encounter, but came up empty, save for distant memories of her father's and Draco Malfoy's "amity".
Scorpius pondered Lily's question, sitting down next to her and stroking her arm, soothingly:
"You saw them. Three and a half times."
"Why a half?" the girl asked warily.
"Well, the very first time can hardly count, since I carried your unconscious body into our house, and you couldn't be expected to have even glimpsed my parents."
Lily rolled her eyes, trying to hide her nervousness at the very thought of being in the same room with people, whose only son often spoke about without any respect.
"The second time you saw them was at the Christmas Ball, when we took pity not to run them over on the dancefloor."
"How noble," the girl snorted, remembering the falling fir-tree and the laughing Scorpius.
"You also saw them at my and Potter's Graduation Ball," Malfoy's smile didn't promise her anything she would want to hear.
"And?" Lily asked still.
"Well, you disappeared almost at once, because my parents resolved to congratulate me on my graduation at the very moment when I… was receiving congratulations from you."
Lily felt her cheeks grow hot: even though she did not remember that particular bit from her past, she could easily imagine it, just from watching her husband's amusement.
"And, of course, you saw my mother at Xenia's wedding."
"And your father?"
"At the time, he was as far from England as he could muster; I don't even recall which excuse he picked for not being in the same room with your father."
"And now my dad is invited to your house?" Lily clarified.
"It's my mother," Malfoy shrugged his shoulders. "By all mores, such dinner ought to have taken place before our wedding. But what can't be cured…"
"So, maybe we don't have to go? Can I call in sick?"
Scorpius laughed very quietly and shook his head:
"They won't bite. I simply won't allow it."
He looked at Lily and realized that she was searching for an excuse to avoid spending the evening in the company of his parents.
"You have exactly thirty-five minutes," Scorpius remarked, glancing pointedly at the clock.
"What? Thirty-five minutes? Malfoy, are you mad?" the girl flew off the couch, frantically looking about. "I won't have time for anything! I cannot go to dinner with your parents looking like this!"
"I told you…" Xenia's voice drifted from upstairs. She clearly was in the know.
"Looking like what?" Scorpius raised an eyebrow, ogling his wife and ignoring his cousin. "I think you are beautiful."
"I have nothing to wear!" Lily almost wailed, standing in the middle of the living room.
"I've taken care of everything; don't you worry," Scorpius waved his wand, and a hanger with cream-colored dress appeared in his hand. Lily stared.
"This is…?"
"Yes, I found a few of your designs and ordered them to be made… I think we got the size correctly," Malfoy laid the dress down on the couch, clearly pleased with himself.
"You ordered a dress from my designs?" Lily said in nearly a whisper, incredulous.
"Let's talk about it later, shall we? I don't think you want to be late."
"I don't want to go there at all!" the girl said, still eyeing at the dress. "You…"
"Lil, you only have twenty-seven minutes left," Malfoy reminded her, handing her the dress. "Do you want my help with dressing up?" he pointed at his wife's shaking hands.
"Oh, no, you don't," Xenia showed up on the stairs, already dressed for dinner. "Last time when you decided to help her, Lily was late for her physical exam, if you care to remember…"
"And I would dare remind you that it was not my fault," Scorpius smirked, pretending he didn't see Lily blush. "We were just searching for her wand; it had rolled under something or rather."
"You lost your knack for fibbing, Malfoy," James gloated from his bedroom.
"Another word – and you will lose your knack for speaking, Shaggy," Scorpius warned.
"I shall help Lily get dressed," Xenia grabbed the dress and pulled her friend along. "Everything will be fine, Lil…"
The girl glanced imploringly at her husband, whose only response was a broad smile. On the stairs, they bumped into James, who was on his way down, and Lily poked her finger into his chest, eyes narrowed angrily:
"You knew! You knew all along, and you didn't say anything!"
"It was all him," James said with a snicker, nodding towards Scorpius, "he forced me to make an Unbreakable Vow."
"Oh, just say that I placed you under the Imperious Curse," Malfoy suggested, sitting down in a chair as the girls vanished onto the second floor.
"I told you to give her a couple of days to mentally prepare for entering your family lair," Potter snorted, sitting down opposite his friend.
"Everyone in my lair will die as soon as they see you," Malfoy parried, pointing at the T-shirt with a three-headed dog that James wore under his jacket.
"Just be grateful that I am not going to dinner at your folks' wearing my Quidditch uniform."
"Why should I care?" Scorpius shrugged his shoulders. "It would be fun. And if I gave your sister a couple of days, she would have surely found a valid reason to avoid formally meeting my parents for the next couple of decades."
"So what? Just imagine: you walk in and say: 'Mother, Father, here are our six ginger sons.' Your daddy promptly has a coronary – and voila: his ashes are in that urn on the mantlepiece, while you become the heir to the family fortune."
"Well, at least we won't need seven months of trying for begetting those six sons," Malfoy grinned pointedly, twirling his wand. "By the way, how is the battle with destiny going?"
"Oh, why don't you…!"
"You started it."
"You are incorrigible," Xenia remarked with a smile, coming down the stairs.
"Where is Lily?" Malfoy inquired promptly, getting to his feet.
"Trying to re-learn regular breathing… Really, you ought to have told her ahead of time," the girl walked over to James and smiled: "And if you say a word to my parents, again, about detesting Greek cuisine, I'll quarter you…"
"As long as they don't force me to eat it, I'll be mum as a boiled fish."
"Or a roasted hedgehog," Scorpius could not but say. "That's it, I am going to take my wife by storm, lest she should find a way to simply run away."
"As if I could run away from you," Lily replied, sounding a little miffed, as she slowly descended the stairs.
"Wow, Lil, the dress is classy," James remarked, looking at his sister. Then, after a moment of silence, he broke into a wide grin: "And mind you, I said it before that husband of yours did."
"It hasn't been even fifty years, and you have learned to pay compliments," Malfoy snorted, taking Lily's hand. It was cold. He put his arms around her and whispered in her ear: "Don't worry; dinner at my parents' is but a small – and the most unpleasant – portion of the evening."
She looked at him, a tad surprised.
"I have a few surprises for you," he kissed her lightly and pulled her towards the fireplace. James rolled his eyes and grinned.
She was walking around her house, listening to the clicking of her heels. Somehow, this confident sound always gave her the strong sense of her life being on the right track, steady and well-planned.
Everything is just as it should be, and couldn't have been any other way. This was the rule taught by her father, an old diplomat, who'd spent years cutting other experienced diplomats at foreign Ministries of Magic down to size, their claws and fangs notwithstanding. She was never taught to rue what'd been done and gone, not that she would have wanted to learn to do so.
She walked over to a window in one of the large hallways on the second floor and opened it. She inhaled the fresh air, warm from the sunny day, and promptly stepped back, as though intentionally depriving herself of this weakness.
She has always been strong, knowing how to choose between what she wanted and what needed to be done; how to set aside the immaterial in a situation, to identify the critical pieces; to forget about herself while remembering her loved ones, who always needed her. And she liked that, after years of such self-discipline, she no longer needed to feel weak or even gave it any thought. She liked to hear the sure clicking of her heels, to feel totally in control of her life, her family, her home.
Although, but for her father, she wouldn't have done as well as she did – his diplomacy lessons came in very handy after her wedding. In all the years since, her ability to resolve any situation, to deftly navigate between conflicting parties was a constant part of her daily life. First, she stood between her husband and her father-in-law; later, she was forced to take the same position between her husband and her son, keeping the family from being mired in petty, unnecessary conflicts.
And she liked it. Although, every once in a rare while, in the absence of one of the parties, she allowed herself to relax, to suddently try on a different role – and she realized that it now looked unnatural and frightening. Unnatural even to herself, let alone to her husband and son, who tensed up, unsure how to react.
She turned away from the window. She needed to find her scared and angry husband in the bowels of this house and once again stand between the two warring parties – now between him and the Potters, who were now family, too.
She entered the study, where the fireplace burned brightly, casting glimmers on closed window drapes. Draсo was bent over some papers, the candles next to him relieving the gloom. His fair hair kept getting into his face, and he irritably brushed it away, again and again.
"You are working too hard," she noted, sitting down on the arm of his chair and laying a hand on his tense shoulder.
"Someone has got to do business, instead of messing around," Draco grumbled, looking up at her, and in his eyes she easily read irritation, challenge, and fear. She knew at what each of these emotions was directed or, rather, at whom. Irritation – at their son who'd once again acted not as his father wanted; fear – over the upcoming dinner with the Potters; challenge – at himself.
"We all do silly things when we are young, Draco," she tried not to smile, running her fingers through his soft hair, that had grown a tad too long for her husband's liking.
He didn't respond, knowing full well that he would lose any argument he started. She also didn't add anything – what's the use in bringing up the past? She watched her husband write something on a piece of parchment, after dipping the quill elegantly in the inkwell. His hand trembled from time to time, betraying his agitation. He knew the purpose for her visit.
Father disapproved of her only once – for her choice of a mate. He used all his rhetorical skill to dissuade his daughter from marrying into the disgraced Malfoy family. He spoke for several hours, not understanding that love and diplomacy did not mesh at all, for diplomacy was based on logic, and what logic could there be in feelings? How can logic help, when after setting your eyes on a person for the very first time, you know that you can't live without him, because he cannot live without you? When you suddenly feel your heart clench in pity and longing; that you feel the urge to rid this person of the haunted look of an outcast, of the feeling of inferiority that both his parents and himself had been instilling in him. And to her father's question: "What do you love him for, this well-bred Doberman with the temperament of a lapdog?", she answered plainly and earnestly: "Does love require a reason?"
She never removed her hand from his shoulder, silently watching him work, giving his all to a dream: to return to Malfoys their past grandeur, power, and influence. He was succeeding – albeit with difficulty, and not as quickly as he would have wanted, but steadily and surely. For that alone he could respect himself.
She loved him, and she tried her best to convince him that he was worthy of the self-respect he'd lost, the belief in himself he once had. He was not consciously aware of it, frequently not noticing her inducements, but she didn't want that. She simply wanted to be with him, loving him like a runt of the litter narrowly avoided being drowned for not turning out as strong and fierce as his breed demanded. She didn't let him be drowned, believing in him and forcing others to do the same. And she almost always succeeded.
Almost, because there was her son. More than once it occurred to her that they should not have let Scorpius spend so much time with his grandfather. Of course, their son took Lucius' side, and she had to take a position between them – between her husband and her son. It was not hard, given her influence on Draco. Yet, sometimes she simply hated this situation in her family; she was angry with herself – for not helping them get along, to make peace with one another. To help a high-bread strong puppy with his weakling of a father, in whom the breed was often not apparent.
"Have you read about Zabini?" Draco set aside the quill and pointed at the stack of newspapers.
"Yes, the poor girl," she nodded and got to her feet, glancing at the clock. Her husband snorted angrily and didn't say anything: she knew his stance toward the family that had disgraced itself so. In those moments she hoped that Draco, even in some small measure, felt pride for their son, who would never let them down like this. Scorpius always solved his own – and well as their – problems, without leaving stains on the barely cleared family name. Even his last summons to the Ministry – the questioning about the death of a high-standing official – brought them nothing but relief: almost immediately, their son was cleared of all wrongdoing and proclaimed a near saviour of the wizarding world from the next monster that Marcus Devereaux turned out to be. "I think you ought to go change."
Yes, he'd been waiting for her reminder about the dinner, but as always, had been hoping it wouldn't come. Poor Draco…
"Why should I have to meet those whom I know well enough already? I had my fill of Potter and Granger back in school," he said, as usual, mounting a feeble attack.
"Weasley, Hermione Weasley," she reminded gently, looking at her husband.
"Not for long. Although I do not think that the Potter surname will help her up the social ladder," Draco said, frowning.
"Do it for Scorpius' sake," she touched his sorest spot, to overcome his defenses once and for all.
"And what has he done for us? Got married without permission?"
"Draco, you've long known where his relationship with Lily Potter was going," she smiled, walking over to her husband. "You know your son: in such matters, he is constant to a fault, if his house elf is any indication…"
Draco winced and looked away.
"If you fear that we would demolish the dining room…"
It was him who was afraid, Asteria thought, kissing him softly. He was afraid of finding himself surrounded by angry dogs who would tear him apart for his weakness.
"It will be fine," she said firmly, letting him know that she counted on him. It was good to have done without spats that had usually accompanied a discussion of the dinner with the Potters. They didn't have time to go back into his fear and loathing of facing his past.
He was clearly about to say something, but for Dana, the house elf responsible for setting the dinner table, materializing before them. Draco merely frowned and walked out, quietly – docilely – shutting the doors behind him.
She spent the next half hour checking on whether everything was ready for the reception. Then her cousin came in with her husband, and Asteria sent Theodore Verdi to fetch Draco. Verdi had always possessed a magical power of conviction that worked on everybody.
The woman looked at Alexandria and smiled. In her mind, however, were the thoughts of how they'd had to hide from her cousin her daughter's kidnapping. Such was the request of Scorpius and Xenia herself.
"You are looking tired, Asteria," her cousin remarked, looking over the dining table, all its trimmings shining in the setting sun.
"Draco," the lady of the house smiled, adjusting the impeccably laid out napkins.
"The decision did not come easy for him, did it?"
"It was bound to happen at one point, since Scorpius got involved with James Potter back in his Second Year at Hogwarts."
"You seem to be rather fatalistic about this."
"More like resigned," Asteria glanced at herself in the mirror hanging by the fireplace. "Besides, what does it matter, if they make him happy?"
Alexandria nodded: she'd had some difficulty making peace with her daughter's decision to marry her nephew's cheeky best friend. Yet, she softened after meeting the rest of the Potter family, falling under James' artless charm, and seeing how he doted on Xenia. Perhaps Draco would also come to terms with all this, seeing how happy his son was with Lily…
"Mr. and Mrs. James Potter," Derrek, the house elf, squeaked, throwing open the tall dining room doors. The two cousins exchanged glances and together took a step forward, to greet Xenia and her husband.
"Mum," the girl hugged Alexandria, smiling broadly, but if even Asteria noticed Xenia's tired looks, it would certainly not escape her mother. "And where is daddy?"
"With your Uncle Draco. They decided to smoke a cigar before dinner; you know how he is," Alexandria stole a wink at Asteria. "Are you working without rest again?"
"No, she rests without sleep," James grinned, greeting his mother-in-law.
"And where are Scorpius and Lily?" Asteria watched the chap closely, trying to understand what could have kept her son.
"They are coming shortly," Xenia glanced at the clock, smiling at her thoughts.
"Yes, they are having a… pep talk," James chortled, unable to help himself.
"Xenie, my golden cloud!" Theodore Verdi appeared in the doorway, jolly and smiling into the black beard he'd been sporting since as far back as Asteria could remember. "You have lost weight again, instead of gaining some. James, you are letting me down!"
Theodore was clearly impatient for some grandchildren, of which he reminded his daughter every time he came to visit. If only Draco wanted them as badly…
Asteria was too observant to miss a shadow that flitted across the faces of the younger Potter couple, but she didn't pry. She turned around when her husband finally entered the room – with defiance clearly written on his pale face. Still, the very fact that he showed up made Asteria proud of him. It was the pride of a mother for her child taking his first step or speaking his first word. It was the pride of a master sculptor, unveiling his new sculpture.
"Good evening," he said, looking at Xenia.
"Mr. Harry Potter and Mrs. Hermione Weasley."
Draco flinched and made as though to step back, but Asteria took his arm and smiled. This is your house, Draco Malfoy, and they are your guests.
Her husband lifted his chin, his eyes narrowed involuntarily, betraying distaste. Perhaps this was reflex from his past or a defensive reaction.
"Good evening," Hermione Weasley smiled a tad tensely, extending her hand. Asteria returned the smile: they were good acquaintances at this point, having first connected at Xenia's wedding.
Harry Potter was clearly ill at ease, but he tried not to let on; the only tell was how he paused momentarily before, having shaken Theodore Verdi's hand, shaking Draco's next.
"Hullo, parents," James greeted them gayly, trying to break the tension. "So, Albus was not invited? No circus performance tonight then?"
Xenia laughed, Harry also smiled, carefully kissing the girl's cheek. The guests of honor chose this moment to make an appearance.
Scorpius looked relaxed, even jolly, when he heard the house elf announce: "Mr. and Mrs. Scorpius Malfoy". Lily didn't even attempt a smile – all her energy went towards hiding her embarrassment and fear, and she almost succeeded at that. It seemed that only her husband's arm around her kept her from turning on her heel and running off, as she had done once already, during the Graduation Ball at Hogwarts.
Well, it is time to take control of the situation. Scorpius preempted her, smiling:
"Mother, Father, let me introduce to you my wife, Lily Malfoy," he said casually, giving his father an almost warning look.
"Welcome to the family," Asteria took a step towards the frightened girl and touched her lips lightly to her heated cheek.
"Thank you," Lily whispered, reddening even more, because all those present were looking at her, while her brother seemed to barely hold back laughter, exchanging looks with Scorpius.
"Lily," the girl's name appeared to escape Draco's clenched teeth with a hiss, as he nodded politely at her. Asteria squeezed his hand in encouragement.
"Well… Scorpius, why don't you give your wife and friends a tour of the house," the lady of the house said quietly, practically sensing the waves of resentment coming off her husband towards Harry Potter, who was shaking hands with Scorpius and greeting his trembling daughter.
Her son's answering look held a perfectly understandable question "what is there to see, really?", but he took his mother's hint and pointed towards the door like a gracious host:
"Let's go, and I will show you the spacious dungeons where my ancestors tortured and killed their enemies."
"Only if there are no spiders," Lily remarked, glad at the chance to escape the dining room.
"No, only the ghosts of roasted and devoured hedge-hogs," and the youngsters disappeared, followed by Xenia's laughter and James's grumbling.
"Wine?" Theodore offered, deciding to assume the host's duty, which earned him Asteria's gratitude.
They sat down around the low coffee table by the fireplace that Dana had just lit. Draco kept quiet, his gaze shifting between the ceiling and the dinner table.
Alexandria began by reminding Harry and Hermione of their promise to visit them in Greece, and Potter assured her that they would keep their word as soon as his youngest son was back home on vacation. Asteria's cousin immediately recalled the little Potter, and she was able to relax a little – it had been a splendid idea to invite Xenia's parents. A neutral party was usually quite useful at facilitating the peace talks between antagonists.
"Asteria," Hermione attracted everyone's attention, looking between the lady of the house and Draco. Mrs. Weasley had clearly meant to address the latter, but couldn't help herself.
"Yes?"
"Harry and I have an offer for you."
It seemed that Draco was about to snort derisively, but held back. Hermione glanced at Potter and the man continued, after a heavy sigh:
"The Ministry has learned that Helene Devereaux is selling the family Floo Network. With all the mines and branches."
"Her legal guardian is under arrest and awaiting trial," Hermione continued, staring at the wine glass in her hand, "and she is legally allowed to administer the inheritance. The Ministry is not interested in publicity around this deal, since it would inevitably bring to light the real story behind Marcus Devereaux demise and would make the Ministry officials look bad. Therefore, they are discretely looking for a buyer."
Asteria felt Draco tense up. His gaze stopped darting past the guests.
"Helene's asking price is pretty substantial," Harry looked up at the man of the house, indicating that it was him he was addressing. It was hard to guess how difficult it was for Potter, but Asteria felt grateful to him. "As far as I know, you'd been interested in this company."
"We came up with a proposal," Hermione hurriedly intervened, "that if Potters and Malfoys," she stopped, as though trying to taste the words, "became partners…"
"You propose that we enter into a partnership and buy the company?" Draco asked carefully, narrowing his eyes and clearly expecting a catch.
Harry nodded, steadily meeting his gaze:
"Our children have already joined us into a single family… and one day they will inherit this business. If we buy it, of course."
"Potter, you are an Auror, not a businessman," Draco said slowly, trying to not sound derisively.
"And that is another reason for a partnership," Harry shrugged his shoulders, showing that he only saw the acquisition of the Devereaux Floo Network as important for his children's future. "Hermione will not have any difficulty to get the deal to go through as soon as possible."
"And how do you see this?" Draco was interested, but tried to step with caution, making Asteria almost smile.
"As you said, I am an Auror. I shall put up the money, and you will guarantee that it is a good investment."
"So, you will leave the business side to me?" Draco clarified, looking scared.
"You could say that. To you and your son," Potter smiled slightly, picking up his wine glass and taking a sip.
"We need some time to consider this."
"What's there to consider?" suddenly said Theodore Verdi. "This is what you always wanted, Draco! Can you imagine the sign: International Malfoy and Potter Floo Network? Scorpius and James as the face of the company. The entire world will go mad and rush to discuss it. No need for advertisement. All competition is squashed by the very combination "Malfoy and Potter". The press will be yours for the taking. Customers will be fighting over your services.
"All right," Draco nodded, despite the lingering guarded look in his eyes. Asteria was thrilled: when she'd planned this dinner, she couldn't even imagine it would turn out this well. She felt her husband relax a little, clearly planning the future deal in his head and beginning to sketch the business development plan. It was difficult to imagine that this confidence in himself and his future would be brought to Draco by none other than his former nemesis.
On the other hand, this was Harry Potter, after all; what more is there to say?
"You see, they didn't even bare their teeth," Scorpius whispered, as he and Lily walked in the garden illuminated by multiple lanterns. First fallen leaves rustled underfoot. His hand held hers firmly, and he knew she was smiling.
"That they did," she smiled, "when they were laughing at James."
"Well, your brother brought it on himself. Xenia had warned him to keep his mouth shut about the Greek cuisine…"
"You shouldn't have turned his plate into a hedgehog," said Lily reproachfully to her husband.
"Why not? Now he has a pet to take care of for the next seven months," Malfoy hemmed, drawing the girl closer. "Instead of hovering over us. 'Where are you going?' 'What are you doing there?' 'When are you coming back?' Sometimes that brother of yours is insufferable."
"By the way, where ARE we going?"
Scorpius smiled and pointed towards the far end of the garden:
"Home," and this was the truth. Even though he felt more comfortable at Malfoy Manor than he'd felt in a long time – even his father behaved tolerably well, for whatever reason – he knew that his home could only be a place where Lily was happy.
"Pardon?"
"Shut your eyes."
"I don't like surprises," Lily remarked, but she complied.
"Don't peek," Malfoy swept her off her feet and headed swiftly down the path. The smells of conifer and fresh soil, warm stone, and tree bark filled their nostrils.
"Can I look now?" Lily asked impatiently, now having an inkling of what she was going to see.
"Yes," he whispered.
"My god…," Lily stared at a small cottage, painted silver, with a green roof. Around the cottage rose a throng a fur trees covered with silver dust that rustled under Malfoy's feet as he carried her onto the porch. At the top step, with a bow on his head, stood the happy Dong.
"Vanish, you big-eared idiot," Scorpius whispered to the house elf, as he carried Lily into the foyer that smelled of fir branches, burning fireplace, and coffee. If the exterior of the house was done in Malfoy's favourite colours, the interior decor was done in warm, fiery Lily's colours: warm-gold, brown, yellow-orange, dark red. As though a fire burning in the middle of their silver forest.
"Our house?" she whispered when he lowered her to her feet and let her glance about her.
"If you like it," Scorpius said, a little uncertain, putting his arms around her shoulders.
"I feel as though I've always lived here," the girl smiled, touching the soft back of the fireside chair. "It's an amazing surprise…"
"And this is not all," Malfoy drew back, walked over to the table, and picked up a small, elongated box.
"Please don't tell me that you…," but she already knew. She knew, but was afraid to believe. Still, was this not Scorpius Malfoy? After all, he can do anything. "You found it."
Lily gazed adoringly from her husband to the wand in his hands. Her wand, which disappeared the day it became a portal. They've bought her a new one, but Lily was missing her old wand like an old friend.
"We searched all Devereaux's buildings and mines," Malfoy explained, putting the wand in his wife's trembling hands.
"Thank you," she hugged and kissed him, knowing that she could never thank him enough for all he was doing for her.
"And this is a small gift from Auntie Alexandria," he fetched an official-looking stack of papers. "She is an expert in magical fashion and owns several boutiques and salons world-wide. She looked over you drafts and agreed to showcase your designs, when they are ready. This is the contract."
Lily was looking at her husband, dumbfounded. She was at a loss for words to express her delight.
"All you need to do is sign it," Scorpius remarked, setting the documents aside. "This will keep you busy while Potter and I go into the Quidditch business."
"You – and Quidditch?" Lily regained her voice.
"Well, I bought myself a team. And Potter, as a true mate, agreed to play on it."
"He quit the London Lacewings?"
"Yeah…"
"And what team did you purchase?" the girl asked cautiously, although she thought she already knew the answer. Scorpius was never the one for easy solutions.
"Well, it is all right, has good prospects… now," Malfoy chuckled. "Twenty first in the league, not that bad."
"Twenty first of..?"
"Twenty-six," Scorpius shrugged his shoulders, sitting down into the chair and pulling his wife onto his lap. "They have good Chasers, and Potter will be our saving grace until we get some money to attract new players."
"Scorpius, you are incredible, do you know that?" she whispered, running her hand down his pale face.
"I do now. Did you like my presents?"
"I don't know how to thank you… how to show you what you are doing for me…"
"Don't thank me. Just stay with me, always. And I shall attempt to make up for all the bad things that happened to you because of me."
"There's nothing to make up for, silly."
"Few people dare to call me that," he feigned a frown, baring his teeth. "You might have to pay for it."
"I agree to any price," she laughed, putting her arms around his neck.
"For the rest of our lives?"
"And even forever after, if it makes you happy."
"Good. We'll review that in a hundred year of so," Malfoy nodded gravely, getting up with his wife securely in his arms. "And now I shall give you a tour of our new home."
Lily nodded, knowing full well that if he should begin with the bedroom, the tour would last till morning.