"Theodore" Coco's soft voice barely registered in my mind. I had felt anger before- I felt it pretty often really. It was one of the few emotions that I let in. This wasn't that. This was different, this was deeper, this was more savage.

"Theodore," Coco repeated, this time it was enough to cut through the rage, I held up a hand.

"Don't." I snapped. I didn't want to do anything stupid. I didn't want to end up hurting her. It wasn't super common that I acted on my anger- one example being when I gave in and held her under the water, which she survived just fine. Right now the amount of anger I felt was even beyond that.

I hit the button to start the elevator again and the moment the doors opened I stormed out. I heard someone say my name, I didn't slow, I didn't stop until I had slammed out of the ministry entirely and apparated away. I knew if I didn't I would end up going back to my office and I would murder Calvin Danworth with my bare hands.

I went to the only place I could think of at that moment.

Malfoy Manor.

"Theodore, what a surprise." Draco was seated in the den, as per usual, he had a glass in front of him, but it was either just water or it was pure vodka.

Since it was Draco and not Broderick I was willing to guess water.

"I'm going to fucking kill him." I snarled, beginning my pacing.

Draco quirked one white eyebrow, his eyes followed me as I moved. Absolutely giving the air of a predator, watching it's prey. But that was a normal look for Draco Malfoy.

"Sure but if you're looking for help with crafting an alibi I will need a little more information, Nott." He commented, picking up the glass and taking a drink.

"I don't fucking care about a goddamn alibi." I roared, snatching the glass out of his hand and throwing it across the room. It shattered into a million pieces, which only slightly helped. "I want to feel my hands around his throat, I want to watch his eyes as the life fades out of them."

"Well, judging by the 'him' at least I know you're not talking about Coco." Draco remained unaffected by my rage. Even as I picked up another glass, throwing it, and watching it explode. Draco picked up his wand from the table next to him, the two glasses repairing themselves.

"No. I'm not talking about her." For once.

"Go on, have your moment." He knew me well enough to know that there was only one way for me to get it all out. I headed for another room- this one was also a sitting room but it wasn't the one Draco preferred. I spent at least half an hour in there, tearing the room to piece. Bit by bit until I was exhausted. Until all my rage was gone.

It was something we had started doing when I was young when I would get angry at my father and I couldn't take it out on him- he was bigger than me but he had no qualms about hitting me if I got to be too much for him to handle.

I'd come to the Malfoy house in tears and frustration and Narcissa had taken my hand, led me to this room, and told me to have at it. To smash the vase, to tear up the couch, to do whatever made me feel better.

When I was done, she walked in calmly, magically fixed all the damage, and took Draco and me into the kitchen for ice cream.

I knew Narcissa was in the house today, but it wasn't her who fixed the mess I made. I stood up, having fallen to my knees with exhaustion, removed my wand from my pocket and I righted the room. Watching the room knit itself back together is almost as therapeutic as tearing it apart.

'Damages can be repaired' it told me

'Things that are broken can be fixed'

'You can be fixed' Though I wasn't sure about that last one. I walked back to the den, my head hung low, and took the drink Draco offered me. Whiskey this time, not scotch. Thank Merlin, I downed that drink, then another.

"Now. Tell me what happened, Nott." Draco encouraged.

I opened my mouth to tell him everything. About my boss- before he was my boss- taking advantage of my wife- before she was my wife.

I was interrupted by a series of popping sounds.

"Did you make the call to send in the clowns?" I asked, whirling on Draco. He held up his hands.

"How exactly would I have done so, Nott? Also don't all of you have jobs?" His eyes flicked over the group

"I don't. Also, Blaise saw you running out of the ministry like your hair was on fire, he called us all to the clown car." Alistair answered, bounding into the room. "And we know you too well to go to your house when you're mad. You might have run into your father which would lead to your hair actually catching fire."

"I didn't use that phrase," Blaise replied stiffly, walking in after Alistair with Broderick on his heels.

"So what's up, Nott?" Brody asked, going straight for the bar. I paused, watching the four of them as they all got comfortable around the Malfoy's den. These were my best friends. I knew they would kill for me and I for them.

"I found out-" I paused, unsure how to actually go about telling the whole story. They all remained silent, watching patiently.

I took a deep breath and started from the beginning. From noticing the weirdness between Mr. Danworth and Coco the first time to the note that I accused Daphne of giving her- The guys all shared a group wince over that one, in retrospect, it was incredibly stupid of me to agree with Coco, and thinking Daphne would do that. Daphne was many things but she was not that level of petty. Pansy? Sure. Daphne? Absolutely not.

I told them about the letter that was left on my desk and her telling me the truth in the elevator, as well as what that truth was.

By the time I finished, I was sitting down, with a fresh drink in my hand provided by Alistair. The four of my friends all sat there in silence, processing.

"So… Coco tells you this deep dark secret. About her being taken advantage of in a way that makes her feel terrible and like her father who I'm guessing she doesn't have the fondest feelings towards… and you ran away from her- in anger." Draco summed up.

I rolled my eyes and downed the drink- it wasn't whiskey it was the fucking scotch, making a face at the taste.

"Yes."

"You're an idiot, Nott." Broderick shook his head. Alistair hopped up and got me more to drink.

"I-" I was about to argue but realized that he was, actually, right. "Alistair if you pour a single drop of scotch into my glass I am going to beat you over the head with the glass." Alistair paused, giving me a grin. He knew I hated scotch. He was just Alistair.

He switched bottles and poured me a whiskey, which I happily took and tossed back.

"I just- I didn't want to scare her." I finally managed. "I was going to blow up and it was just the two of us in the elevator and I didn't want it to be at her. I didn't want to lose control on her when it wasn't her fault. I needed to get out before I did something I would regret."

"Yeah? How'd that go for you, dumbass?" Blaise asked, I flipped him the bird and let the heavy-bottomed glass fall down to the table with a hard thunk

"It could have been worse. I'm not sure how but there has to be some way." Broderick grinned.

"Fuck you, all of you."

"I didn't even say anything!" Alistair pouted, flopping down in a chair, turning so his legs were propped up on the arms of said chair.

"You gave me a scotch."

"Fair." Alistair shrugged.

"So? What should I do? What is your sage wisdom?"

"You have to go and apologize for being an idiot," Blaise answered.

"Although I will be the one to point out, taking advice from your single friends is probably optional," Broderick spoke up.

"I'm single but I've watched more relationships fall apart than anyone on earth." Blaise reasoned. His mother was legendary for her breakups and of course, the fact that she'd been mysteriously widowed so many times. To my knowledge, she only had one husband who made it out alive and that was probably because he had left for America and they did the divorce long distance.

"Fine, apologize, I can do that. I think." There was a real chance that I would be incapable of it. I didn't like apologizing. It felt weak, and as I had been told over and over again in my life, real men weren't weak.

"You can," Draco assured me. "You know better than anyone that misplaced anger is still hurtful. She's afraid of being like her father. It would do you well to fear the same."

My first instinct was to snap at him- but he was right.

"I should go." I sighed and went to stand. I could see both Blaise and Draco eyeing me warily. "I'm not drunk," I swore.

"Alright just- don't be a dick," Blaise recommended.

"I make no promises."

I ignored the look that the two of them shared.

"Get fucked." I muttered, apparating out.

I popped into the front hall of my home. I thought about just apparating directly into the bedroom but- hopefully- Coco would be in there and I didn't want to scare the hell out of her. The temptation to sprint up to the bedroom was strong, I really didn't want to deal with my father not right now.

I grabbed the knob but it wouldn't turn. Of course.

"Alohomora," I muttered, the lock clicked and I stepped into the room. The fire was blazing and there was an empty box sitting out, open in front of it. I opened my mouth to call for Coco but before I had to, her head popped up over the back of the chair. She had tracks of mascara down her cheeks but there weren't any tears, not anymore.

"Theodore." I stepped further into the room, my brain went static when I saw what she was wearing.

"That's my sweater." She nodded.

"Sure is. And this is your whiskey." She held up the bottle that was now nearly empty. She took a drink of it, straight from said bottle. I crossed the room, snatching the bottle from her, and took the last drink, letting the smooth liquor burn its way down my throat. I tossed the bottle over my shoulder letting it crash to the ground, shattering. She started, about to sit up properly, but I stopped her, my hand finding its way back to her throat. Coco froze.

"And you are my wife," I growled, closing the space between us, and kissing her. "Mine."

She tasted like whiskey and cinnamon. I had stopped expecting her to push me away when I kissed her, this time I knew when her hands pressed to my chest- it was to grip my shirt and pull me closer. She let out a soft moan and I pulled away, my heart pounding in my chest.

Coco looked up at me, her tongue darting out to run over her bottom lip.

"What was in the box?" I asked.

"His letters." She answered. The static in my brain grew louder. "I burned them."

That helped, more than she probably thought. I still desperately wanted to throw the whole damn box into the flames.

"I wasn't mad at you, Coco, I'm not mad at you." I ran my hands through my hair. She pushed herself to properly sit up in the chair.

"You're not?"

"I'm not," I confirmed, I moved in front of the chair, getting down on one knee so we were closer to eye level, with her situated just a little higher than I was. "I was mad at him, I was- I get angry. And when that happens I don't think I just- react and I didn't- I couldn't let myself do anything to you."

"Like drown me?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Exactly," I confirmed.

"I-"

"You're not like him. You're not like your father in any way shape or form. I assume." I shrugged, I hadn't known her dad, obviously. "You weren't knowingly the other woman and the moment you found out- you left. That counts for something."

She stared at me as if she didn't believe me.

"I'm serious." I didn't know if it was the memory of the shattered look on her face as she told me her secret or the half a bottle of whiskey flowing through my body, but I desperately needed her to believe me. I needed her to understand that she wasn't a bad person.

"I know."

"No."

"No?"

"No." I reached out and took her hands- or rather grabbed her wrists. Her eyes, which had once again begun welling with tears dried instantly, her sorrow replaced with rage. That I liked, that was familiar to me. Angry Coco was something I could handle.

"You don't get to tell me-"

"Yes, I do. I get to tell you no because you are wrong, Cordelia Nott. You are a good person. You are not the ghost of your father and I will not let either of us go to bed until you understand, really and truly. "

"If a shitty person tells me I'm a good person does that make it more or less true?" Coco asked, her voice cracking with either a sob or a laugh.

"Seeing as you're stuck with that shitty person until death, we'll say it makes it more true."

That finally pulled an actual laugh from her.

"Fine, you have a deal."

"An agreement without an argument? Mark the date." I smirked. She sighed and stretched out in the chair, the hem of my sweater inching up her leg. My eyes whipped down like a magnet, drawn to the smooth, lightly tanned skin.

"I'll make up for it later." She promised. "I'll be an absolute monster."

"Of that, I have no doubt." She rolled her eyes at me but it didn't have the same malice behind it that her looks used to have.

"You know." She commented, finally standing up from the chair. "You say I'm yours but- that's not true is it? Not really." I quirked an eyebrow at her, sitting back on my heels.

"Excuse me?"

"You're excused. We're married, but there is still a step that we've skipped." She took a step back from me. My eyes trailed up her bare legs over her torso covered in my sweater and to her face.

Daphne wore my clothes on occasion when we'd been dating. But it hadn't effected me like this. I felt feral. She lifted her arms up and I could see that she wasn't actually bare underneath my sweater. She had worn shorts. A pity.

"Cordelia," I growled. "Do not start something You're not ready to finish," I warned. She shrugged, her hands going to her waist.

"I'm not a virgin." She informed me.

"I don't care."

"I'm not easy to please."

"I like a challenge."

"I like sex, I'm also not easy to satiate."

"As I said, I like a challenge." I had tunnel vision, all I could see, all I could think about was her, there was a soft wisp as the silky shorts she'd had on under the sweater fell to the floor.

"Then Come take your wife." She demanded.

And I was happy to oblige.