A week later

New Year's

Malfoy Residence

Inside a room on the second floor, Gianah knew the moment Stephen arrived at her brother's house; she had no idea how she knew, but she had always been able to tell whenever he was around – it was her Stephen-sense, and it had only got more sensitive as the years went by.

She looked once more at her reflection in the mirror above the vanity in the room she called her own in her brother's house and sighed. She looked good, if a little uncomfortable with the way her body had started to change after she turned twelve, her dresses looked less childish on her now; she recalled her mother's sigh of relief when she mentioned it to her.

"I know, isn't it marvellous?" had exclaimed Narcissa, "I'm so happy for you! You won't be a flat-chested bumless teenager like I was! I used to be so jealous of your grandmother then. Molly was this gorgeous curvy young woman – and you've clearly inherited that gene – thank Circe!"

Gianah smiled at her reflection, liking what she saw; her hair was perfectly wavy, her nose and cheeks lightly freckled, her eyes a beautiful sky-blue, and her body more feminine.

Still, she thought, her smile dying out, I can't stop wondering what he thinks...

She grimaced inwardly, hating that her immediate thought was always 'what would he think?' whenever she noticed those changes on her body; Stephen's opinion shouldn't matter, but still, she wanted to know what he thought of those changes...

She let out a sigh, resigned that she'd never know, for she'd neither ask him about it nor ask Lily if he'd ever mentioned anything.

Most likely Stephen doesn't pay that kind of attention to me.

Gianah scowled at her reflection, hating how he wasn't even near her but being in the vicinity was enough to have her raving.

Downstairs

Sophie walked into the Malfoys' house, searching for her sister, not noticing that her father held Stephen's arm before he set foot inside Draco and Elizabeth's home.

"Behave or no Quidditch trials," said Severus.

"I know, dad," Stephen nodded, "I won't even look at Weasley."

"You can look, love," said Florence, stopping in front of him to fix his ear-length hair, "Just be polite. I know you're a smart young man, you're not a kid anymore, you can go one evening without arguing with Gianah."

Lily snorted, "You're delusional, mum."

Stephen briefly glared his twin, but his eyes filled with mischief the next second and he said: "You know, sis, when we have secrets, we don't go around mocking those who are privy to them."

That caught Severus' attention, his dark eyes moving from his son to his daughter and then to his wife.

And it was Florence's turn to glare at Stephen, "You know, son, little shits who go around spilling their sister's secrets don't get to play in the Quidditch team."

Stephen's smile immediately turned into a worried thin line, and he just nodded, "Got it, mum. Sorry, Lily."

"What are you talking about?" asked Severus, frowning.

"You don't want to hear about it," said Florence, making him realise it was about their daughter's love life.

"Nope, I definitely don't," and he walked into the house with his son.

"And you, little-miss-secrets," Florence pointed at Lily-Rose, "I happen to know what your brother is talking about, and I haven't told your father yet."

"Ooh," the girl blushed, "Thanks, mum," sounding relieved.

"Severus knows something is happening, but we only properly tell him once things become official."

Lily tilted her head, "Well, we are officially dating."

"By official I mean marriage, Lily," Florence huffed a laugh, "We only tell your father when the marriage has been proposed. And I sure as hell know you're not marrying anytime soon."

"No, I'm not, mum," Lily chuckled.

"So, let's keep it under wraps till then, alright?"

"Got it."

Sophie had found her older sister in the kitchen, overseeing the work of the elves.

"Hello! Everything looks perfect, sis," said Sophie, walking towards Elizabeth and hugging her.

"Hi, sis! And it all tastes amazing too," Liz smiled, giving her a mini sandwich.

Sophie accepted the bite-size sandwich and moaned, "Wow, this is delicious!"

"Right? Are mum and dad here already?"

"Yes, lecturing Stephen at the door, probably," Sophie rolled her eyes.

"And how are you doing?" Elizabeth asked, pulling her towards the kitchen island and pouring them champagne.

"Not bad, studying a lot..." Sophie blushed and her sister chuckled.

"Hmm, and how are things with... the professor?" Elizabeth finished with a whisper.

"Oh, great," Sophie sighed, sipping from her champagne flute, "Really great. I love working with him, he's so incredible. Intelligent, sexy."

"Sexy?" repeated Liz, with a grimace.

"Yes, I find him very very sexy. His large hands, his broad shoulders–"

"Jeez, sis, I really don't want to hear about that," Elizabeth feigned a shiver of disgust, "I do not want to think about you having a sex life."

Sophie playfully slapped her shoulder, "I'm not having any sex life, Liz! It's not like we're fucking in the greenhouses."

"Hmm," Elizabeth gave her a mischievous smile, "but I bet you've thought about it."

The deep blush that took over Sophie's cheeks was all the reply she needed.

"You have!" gasped Elizabeth.

"Stop it!"

"So you really like him..." her smile got smaller, morphing into a look of concern, "And have you talked to mum about that?"

Sophie shook her head, "No. Not yet. I don't think it'll do me any good... mum can't make him like me."

"Still, you should talk to her," insisted Elizabeth.

"Why?" Sophie frowned, finding her sister's insistence strange.

Elizabeth seemed nervous, sipping her drink and averting her eyes, "Mum can explain this to you better..."

"'This' what? My feelings?"

"Yes."

"I know my feelings, Liz," replied Sophie, rolling her eyes, "What are you talking about?"

"I–" Elizabeth sighed, "Listen, the thing is... I see similarities between the way you told me you felt when you first saw Longbottom and how I felt when I first saw Draco."

Sophie inhaled sharply, grabbing her sister's arm, "You think we're blessed? Neville and I?"

"Maybe," Elizabeth sipped her champagne, "I don't know, sis... I just saw some similarities... do you have any idea how he feels about you?"

Sophie thought for a moment, "He treats me with respect."

"Does he look at you with, you know... lust?"

"Lust?" Sophie frowned, "No. Never," her face fell as she continued: "He's kind, but distant most of the time... I don't see any clear signs of interest."

Elizabeth nodded slowly, tilting her head, "Hm, perhaps I'm wrong then... you'd definitely see some signs if you were blessed. The desire is... explosive. I know I could barely keep my hands to myself around Draco."

"Oh, yeah," Sophie snorted, "We've all heard how mum had to keep you away from him for two years."

"He was too decent for his own good back then," Elizabeth winked at her sister with a lopsided smile.

Sophie snorted a laugh, "He was terrified of dad, you mean."

"Yeah, that was probably the reason," Liz laughed.

Sophie joined her sister, but the mirth did not reach her eyes.

Back on the second floor

About twenty minutes after she had first felt Stephen's presence in the house, Gianah forced her anxiety down and finally exited her room, walking down the corridor towards the stairs.

She could tell he was close; and there was only one room on that floor where he could be: Scorpius' room.

When she was close to the boy's room, she stopped, even more certain of who she'd see when she glanced inside.

She took the three steps that would put her right at the open door and looked inside: Stephen was in there, as expected, sitting on the floor playing a muggle video-game with the blond seven-year-old nephew they shared.

The teenage boy looked up almost immediately, as if sensing her presence by the door, and she braced herself for the first insult-battle of that night. But Stephen just nodded once stiffly, silently acknowledging her presence before resuming playing.

Odd.

"Where's Lily?" Gianah asked, ignoring polite greetings, not really expecting an answer, just wanting to stay a bit longer there looking at him – she liked looking at him.

"In the library with the other witches," replied Stephen, his eyes on the large tv.

Gianah still didn't move from her spot by the door, finding his polite reply weird – that had to be the friendliest conversation they had ever had in the history of ever.

She kept on looking at Stephen's profile, finding his lack of biting retort extremely strange.

There has to be a reason for this cold politeness, she quickly realised.

"Quidditch, Weasley," Stephen suddenly replied to her unuttered question, "Argyle is out. I can try out for the team if I don't annoy you."

Ah, that explained it. She nodded, feeling anger rise inside of her; of course he wasn't being polite just for the sake of politeness – he was trying not to get in trouble.

How Slytherin of him.

But she was one too.

"Your mere presence here annoys me, Snape," she replied with disdain.

Stephen let out a low hum and shook his head, "Nope. Not tonight, Weasley," his voice soft, "I'm not arguing with you tonight. I care about playing Quidditch."

"Well, I don't," she said, shrugging, "I don't give a damn if you play or not," even though the moment she said that her mind filled with the image of Stephen in a Quidditch kit, riding a broom and scoring goals for the Slytherin House, his hair all windblown... she felt herself blushing, certainly liking what she came up with.

"So just stay away," Stephen suggested, eying her warily, finding her long silence weird, "Think of it, Weasley: if I'm part of the team this next year, you'll see even less of me."

"How so?" she frowned, thankful he was oblivious of her inappropriate thoughts, "I go to Quidditch games, I'll watch you play," she blushed at that last sentence, hoping he didn't use that against her.

Stephen paused the game he was playing with Scorpius and turned to face her, a smirk on his face, "Oh? So you'll watch me play?" he stopped himself from saying anything else, shaking his head, "You tempt me, Weasley, but I won't fall for that; I'm not arguing with you tonight."

"Why will I see less of you?" she insisted.

"Well," he replied, eyes back on the TV, his fingers moving on the gamepad buttons, "I won't be in the Common Room that much anymore. Between classes, Quidditch practice and my many girlfriends," he winked at Scorpius, making the boy laugh, "You'll see very little of me."

Girlfriends.

Gianah froze, an odd feeling stirring in her chest, something akin to terror slowly growing, covering her arms and shoulders with a heavy cloak of... something.

And then it unfolded and finally revealed itself.

No.

NO!

But the truth was in front of her, pulsing raw, weighing inside her stomach like an ice cube swallowed whole that expanded instead of melting.

Many. Girlfriends.

The pain caused by his words exposed what she had already feared to be the truth, and it sat there in her mind, staring her right in the face: she liked him.

No, scratch that – she had feelings for him.

Possessive ones, jealous ones.

Romantic ones.

Oh, no. She whimpered inside her mind.

She loved him.

Gianah felt her breath speed up and her fists clenched, she quickly schooled her face to not show what his words had made her realise.

"I see," she drawled, proud of herself for not revealing her inner breakdown, "Maybe you should ask my brother for some lessons – just to make sure you do make the team then."

Stephen paused the video game again and looked at her, surprised by her suggestion, "You're right, Weasley. Uncle Draco is a great player," he stared at her in silence for a few seconds, "Thank you," he sounded sincere.

Her hands relaxed under his honest gaze, while her heart pounded; she raised her chin, forbidding herself to smile at him, "Anything to make sure I see less of you, Snape."

And then she walked downstairs, questioning every life decision she had made that had brought her to that fatidic moment, wondering how it was possible she had gone and fallen in love with her childhood nemesis.

About an hour later

After a surprisingly uneventful dinner, Gianah and Lily chose to not follow most of the guests to the drawing room, staying in the living room instead, chatting about school and the latter's relationship with her two boyfriends.

"They're absolutely amazing," Lily sighed happily, "I love them so much."

"It's annoying how perfect you three are together," Gianah said, playfully rolling her eyes as if exasperated, but smiling softly, "I'm happy for you. And what about Lynne and Tianah? Those two are equally adorable together."

"True!" agreed Lily, "Ti is like this porcelain doll and Lynne treats her with so much love... so annoyingly cute."

Gianah nodded in agreement, "Sickly perfect those two as well."

Lily paused, looking at her friend, wondering if she should ask her what was in her mind; she tilted her head, deciding to do it, needing to know for sure if she was in love with her twin or not.

"And what about you, Gigi? Aren't you interested in anyone?"

Gianah stiffened for a second, quickly schooling her face to stop her friend from noticing her inner turmoil, feeling like she wasn't ready yet to talk about feelings she had realised herself just hours before, "Nope. No one," she replied, looking at the fireplace, staring at the dancing fire and fidgeting with the hem of her dress.

Lily kept her eyes on her, seeing clearly that something was bothering her.

"Gigi–" but the sound of someone walking into the living room stopped Lily, "Stephen," she narrowed her eyes at her twin, "What are you up to?"

"Just going to the kitchen to make myself some tea, sis," he said with his hands up.

"As if you know how to make tea," Gianah scoffed.

"Right, Weasley because you do," he retorted before he could stop himself, "You probably don't even know where the water comes from."

"Oh, are you arguing with me, Snape?" Gianah drawled with a sly smile, staring at him with mischief in her blue eyes.

"Fuck," he gasped, "No, of course not!" he looked at Lily, honest fear in his eyes, "You saw her goading me! I didn't do anything!"

Lily exhaled, "Yes, Stephen, I saw it. Don't worry."

"You're not ruining this for me, Weasley," Stephen spat, looking at the redhead with anger, "I want to play Quidditch more than anything!"

"Oh yes," Gianah said, scathingly, "You wouldn't want me ruining your chances at playing Quidditch; you cannot disappoint your many girlfriends; they're probably already in queue, waiting for their turn."

"Jealous, Weasley?" Stephen whispered, welcoming the thudding of his heart that always sped up whenever the two of them argued.

Her blue eyes narrowed at him, "The amount of times you ask me that, Snape, makes me wonder if it isn't a confession of your deepest wish."

Stephen was about to reply but stopped himself, raising his arms again, "No. I'm not doing this. Nope. Not tonight," and he walked away.

Gianah watched him go, failing to see Lily's concerned expression, her purple eyes watching her watching him walk away.

"He's an idiot, Gigi," Lily couldn't avoid feeling sorry for her dear friend.

"I know," Gianah sighed, looking down at her lap.

Lily shook her head, not needing her friend to say the words to know that she did have feelings for her brother – and they weren't of disdain.

Meanwhile, inside Draco's office

James sat with Draco in the quiet office, enjoying a bottle of the blonde's most expensive Ogden's Firewhisky away from teenagers, kids and wives.

"What about the Prophet?" asked James as Draco poured them another shot of the amber liquid.

"Don't worry about it, it's done," he sat on the armchair opposite to James, "The Prophet is ours."

"Good. What about Skeeter?"

Draco's lips curved in a small smile, "Missing."

"Missing?"

"Yep. Maybe ask your wife about it," said Draco pointing a finger at him.

James frowned, "Why would Hermione know about that woman's whereabouts?"

Draco shrugged, "She's kept Skeeter in a jar for a year in the past–"

James choked on the firewhisky, "She what?" he asked between coughs.

"You don't know?" Draco was surprised, "Well, she did. Skeeter is an unregistered Animagus, a beetle. Granger found out and trapped her in a jar during fourth year."

James blinked at him twice and then roared with laughter.

"Oh, mate, I'm so glad my animagus is a bear!"

Draco huffed a laugh, "We are all insane, aren't we? Marrying these crazy witches," he shook his head before taking a sip of his drink.

James arched an eyebrow at him, "Calling my sister crazy, Malfoy?"

"Have you seen her angry?" Draco returned his arched eyebrow.

James grimaced, "Yeah, you're right. And Hermione is truly dangerous– keeping people in a jar," he let out a low whistle, "Merlin's balls that's crazy."

"And your mother?" added Draco, his face showing he was very impressed, "Godfather is a brave man."

"You're not wrong– but if you're talking about my mother, I'll have to point out your sister."

Draco grimaced, "Fucking hell, that one. Slapping your brother in the Great Hall in front of everybody? Salazar helps who that one marries."

"Yeah, but if things keep moving on as they are, by the time they marry, he'll be used to it already."

Draco let out a soft snort and nodded after another sip of firewhisky, "Yeah, I've noticed a pattern. Your brother and my sister... I'm surprised nothing's caught fire or exploded tonight yet."

"They won't," James shook his head, "Stephen will be allowed to play Quidditch this next year if he behaves around Gianah."

"Ooh, that's a good compromise," Draco seemed impressed.

"Not that good," James looked annoyed, "I won't have him cleaning up my cauldrons anymore. I'll have to find another student to put in detention if he stops fighting her at the school."

Draco looked amused, "He's not a house elf, he's your brother–"

"Which makes it even better," added James with a smirk.

Then they heard knocks on the office door.

"Come in," said Draco.

"Excuse me," said Stephen, walking in as if having been summoned by their conversation.

"Hey, Stephen."

"Hi, James," he bumped fists with his older brother, "Hey, Uncle Draco, listen, could you help me practice Quidditch sometime this next week? I need some help getting faster on the broom."

"Of course," Draco feigned surprise, "But why the sudden need?"

"Dad let me try out for the team when the term resumes."

"Really? Is that why we haven't had any accidents so far?"

Stephen looked suddenly annoyed, glancing at his brother who had a knowing smile on his face.

"Yes," Stephen finally replied, "Although she has tried."

"Hm," Draco hummed, continuing as if he didn't already know the story behind his sudden permission to play: "So you can try out if you don't cause any troubles with Gigi?"

"Yes."

"Fair enough," Draco gave a one-shoulder shrug.

"Fair?" Stephen exclaimed indignantly, "She's the reason I haven't been able to play so far!"

"Is she?" asked Draco, narrowing his grey eyes, "Is she the one that forced you to eavesdrop on her and Lily two years ago?"

It was clear the teen wanted to tell him off but held his tongue.

Draco barked a laugh, seeing the unuttered insult, "You know, Stephen... I was a cocky teenager once. A spoiled little shit that thought everyone was below him–"

"I do not–" began Stephen.

But James let out a loud snort and Draco went on:

"Yes, you do. You're full of yourself, Stephen, and that's absolutely normal for someone of your age and status," his tone understanding instead of judgemental, "You're famous – your whole family is famous – and still... you want more. Ambition is the most Slytherin of all traits."

The teen glimpsed at his brother and James gave him a shrug, "He's not wrong, little bro."

Stephen shrugged too and looked back at Draco, not feeling like defending himself.

"There is, however," Draco continued, his grey eyes hardening, "one big difference between you and me; I had one thing you don't have."

"And what was that?" asked Stephen, folding his arms and wondering what the Malfoy Lord could have that he didn't: "A title?"

"No, Stephen: a shitty father," Draco paused, watching understanding shine in the boy's eyes, "My father couldn't care less about my wellbeing; my behaviour – as long as it didn't reflect badly on the family – could be as bad as I wanted it to be, father would just throw money at it to hide it from the public eye."

Stephen seemed a little uncomfortable with that conversation, he shot another glance at James.

"He's not wrong again, bro."

"You don't have that," continued Draco, "Your parents are great, they care about you, and that's why they haven't allowed you to play so far – because your behaviour was undeserving. You're blessed with a huge supportive family–"

"Supportive?" Stephen scoffed, "Everything I do mum and dad call either stupid or dangerous," he glared at James, pointing a finger at him, "Even he has me in detention once a month!"

James just smiled, giving a small one-shouldered shrug, and sipped his firewhisky.

"And are they?" asked Draco, "Either stupid or dangerous?"

James barked a laugh, "Ain't that the question, Draco!"

Stephen huffed in annoyance, remembering his Shrieking Shack adventure and knowing he had no grounds to defend himself.

"Will you help me or not?" the teen asked, ready to flip them both the finger, thinking that maybe training alone would be better.

"Regarding my sister," said Draco, ignoring his question, "I'd like to ask you to keep your distance from her."

"Gladly," said Stephen with teenage petulance, "I am hardly ever near her."

"Widen the distance then. Your constant bickering bothers her, and I hate to see my baby-sister being bothered, Stephen. If you want help on Quidditch, stay away from her."

"Done," Stephen glared at him, "If I could, I would never look at her again."

James arched an eyebrow and sipped his drink in silent scepticism.

"Good," drawled Draco, thoroughly enjoying that, "You don't deserve her."

"Great," Stephen raised his voice, "for I don't want her!" but his thoughts immediately betrayed his words, reminding him that he had noticed how her dress had hugged her body differently that night, how her hair looked soft as silk and her lips looked fuller.

Draco made a sound and Stephen looked at him in anger, knowing by his tilted head and sly smirk that the blonde could tell exactly what he had been thinking just then.

"I. Don't. Care. About. Her!" insisted Stephen.

"Sure. If that's how you want to play," Draco leaned forward on his armchair, resting his elbows on his knees, looking intimidating, his tone serious, "You'd better stay away from her then. My sister deserves someone that cherishes her."

Stephen gulped nervously.

Draco continued: "As a nearly fourteen-year-old, you understand what I'm saying, don't you? Gigi is strong and independent, but she deserves a boyfriend that will care for her, take her on romantic dinners, out for tea. Someone that will charm her, show – with their actions – how precious she is."

Stephen's eyes darkened, the sudden image of someone holding Gianah's hand and taking her on dates to Madame Puddifoot's filled him with rage.

Quidditch. He forced into his own mind. Focus on Quidditch!

"It's good that you don't care for her like that," continued Draco, sitting back on the armchair, "You're truly not the man for my sister."

"And one of those blokes with a contract on their hands is?" Stephen blurted before he could stop himself.

"Maybe," shrugged Draco, "If Gianah so desires, she'll have the best contract ever drafted in the history of pureblood marriage contracts."

Stephen clenched his jaw, "She wouldn't want that!"

"And how would you know, little bro?" asked James, his voice light and clearly mocking, "You don't care for her."

"I DON'T!" Stephen exclaimed a little too loudly.

Draco arched an eyebrow at him and spoke: "I'll let you know the training schedule for the week."

Then the teenager turned and left the office.

"Little shit doesn't see it, does he?" Draco said softly.

"Nope," replied James, "I hope to be there when he does – because that's going to be epic."

"Nah, they'll get together before her sixteenth birthday," said Draco with certainty.

James's interest was instantly piqued, "Define 'get together'? A kiss?"

"Yes, sure. They'll have kissed by her sixteenth birthday."

"You got yourself a bet, Malfoy. I say fifteenth."

"Fifty galleons?" offered Draco, his hand reached out in front of him.

"Fifty?" James scoffed, "What are you? Poor? Make it five hundred and I'm in."

Draco raised an eyebrow, and they shook hands.

Note: Three Slytherins in the same room makes for an amazing dialogue! I loved writing that scene!

And now Gianah has named her feelings 0.0