Roughly eight months ago, I was on a balcony drinking wine with my mother and brother, while I plotted to crash a party I hadn't been invited to.

Today, it was a lovely spring day, and the same people I tried to hit with a firework were all out on the porch of the home I shared with my husband.

Baz was up playing a game of cornhole with Daphne, Broderick, and Blaise. Over the last several months I had come to realize how competitive Blaise was especially. The man never met a game he wouldn't push to obliterate everyone in.

The grill was up and going, the food cooking itself, When it was done on one side, it would flip, and when it was done, it would move itself to the table where everyone was free to help themselves. Pansy was stretched out on the outdoor couch that we had outside, her legs laying over Draco's the blonde man's eyes closed.

"All I'm saying is- I have all the time in the world-" Alistair was arguing.

"Yes and you make no real money, What does Freelancing even mean to you?" Pansy was a hand talker, if you got too close while she was on a roll you could lose an eye. Her nails- painted her favorite shade of purple so dark it could be black- glinted in the sun as her hands flew.

"Whatever people need me for, I write articles for The Prophet-"

"No, you don't." I interrupted. He had sent in some letters to the editor.

"I work as a consultant, I have done wonders to help Blaise out in his line of work-"

"No, you haven't," Blaise called over.

"And I work as a model. Astoria has painted some wonderful portraits of me."

"That one is actually true," Daphne responded, lining up her throw. "He's a pretty good model." Alistair beamed at the compliment.

"Sure, but the question remains, Have you made any money?"

"No, but who needs money over having the satisfaction of a job well done?" Alistair groaned and dramatically draped himself over the outdoor chaise he was occupying.

"Most people." Pansy rolled her eyes. "People whose parents didn't leave them buckets of money."

"Technically mine haven't left me shit yet. They're still alive… for now." Alistair shrugged. "I'm trying to connect with someone in Azkaban to handle half my problem." He said it lightly, inspecting his nails, painted the same dark purple shade as Pansy's.

"And the other half?" Draco asked, not opening his eyes.

"If I talk about it now then it's pre-meditated." Alistair chirped.

"Because that's definitely how that works." I quirked an eyebrow.

"We need more drinks," Broderick called out. I rolled my eyes and stood up, slapping Theodore's leg before heading inside to make another pitcher of drinks. There was a set of doors near the porch that led directly into the kitchen. I started to gather the bottles of alcohol and mixers, pausing only once to rotate my shoulder. It rarely hurt anymore, but once in a blue moon, I felt the phantom pains shooting through my arm- at least I hoped they were phantom pains. The stitches had been removed, everything had healed physically.

And when mentally it got to be too much, Theodore seemed to always know, and he'd make me stop and talk about it, get all the emotions out. It was weird- trying to strive for emotional intelligence.

A month after it all happened, Kaitlyn was sentenced. She didn't get Azkaban, much to Theodore's chagrin. She was sent to a regular wizarding jail and it would be a long long time before she'd be getting out.

The cottage was not salvageable, which I felt was a good thing. The charred remains were plowed down just last month and Calvin was going to just- sell the lot.

I joked to Theodore about buying it and building a vacation house- he did not think it was as funny as I did.

We had taken a couple of the house elves from Theodore's father- he hadn't fought us on which ones we got either, which was amazing- but I made it clear that I was allowed to use my own kitchen when I wanted to.

I finished blending the drinks when a body came up behind me, a hand sliding up under my dress.

"Mr. Selwyn-Nott." I warned, "We have a party outside."

"Good thing we are inside." He grinned, taking my hand and leading me further into the house.

"Theodore."

"Shhh they'll never know." They would, they always did, We didn't do much to hide it, but I still let him lead me to the office. I kicked the door shut behind us. The moment it clicked, he pulled me to him, kissing me hard. "You know what seeing you in these dresses does to me."

He had expressed at one point that me in a sundress was his undoing. That might have been on my mind when we were getting dressed for the party.

"I might have an idea," I admitted. He kissed me again, his hand coming up to the back of my neck.

"Tease." He groaned against my lips.

"It's only teasing if I don't intend on following through," I argued.

"Is that so?" He pulled back, eyebrow raised.

"It is," I confirmed.

"That's my girl." He held onto the back of my neck, using it to guide me none too gently to the desk, bending me over it. "We're going to have to move quickly, Cordelia or the others will wonder where we went." He yanked the skirt of my dress up, revealing my ass.

"They'll know."

"They will. You're right. When we don't go back out there they will all know exactly what we are doing." I could hear him unbuckling his belt, and unzipping his fly. "They'll know we snuck away because you just can't get enough of your husband's cock." I felt his finger slide under the back of my thong, moving it to the side.

"Please," I whined as he slowly ran the tip up and down my slit.

"You know I can't say no to you." He chuckled before slamming into me. I let out a soft cry, reaching for something to hold onto but the desk was too large- I couldn't reach the other side. He leaned over me, grabbing both of my wrists in one hand and cuffing them behind my back, holding them as he thrust over and over.

Soon all we could hear was the sound of skin against skin and my whimpers and moans, Theodore's free hand came down to slap against my ass and that did it- it sent me over the edge. I cried out loud enough that I was sure they could hear it outside and he followed me over that ledge. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of my ass as he filled me with his load, still thrusting, not pulling out until he was completely done.

"Good girl." He nipped at my ear and pulled out, sliding my thong back into place, slapping my ass again. "And you're going to stay like that." He pulled my skirt back down over my ass. "For the rest of the party."

"You know the praise kink thing doesn't work on me." I turned in his arms and pressed a kiss to his lips.

"Only because you've never wanted to be a good girl."

"Exactly." I reached between us, tucking him back into his pants. "Now let's go before Broderick breaks into our liquor cabinet for making him wait too long for margaritas."

We headed back out, The moment the pitcher was sat down, Broderick abandoned the game to get a refill.

"About time." He muttered. "Can't even wait to bone until after you've served your guests?"

"I find that when the guests in question are utterly exhausting, I need a pick me up." Theodore shrugged. Brody flipped him the bird then went off to play again.

Finally, all the food was done, we'd all gotten our plates and were currently finished up our meal.

"Oh! I almost forgot." Pansy grabbed her napkin and cleaned her fingers off. "Daphne has a secret admirer."

Daphne's eyes widened

"Shut up, Pansy." She snapped.

"I saw the letter. Really mysterious." Pansy grinned.

"An admirer, Daphne? Hot. Do we know him? Her?" Alistair asked.

"It's a secret admirer, Dingus." Brody rolled his eyes.

"Of course, she has an admirer. Daphne is amazing." Baz shrugged, stabbing at the last bits of salad on his plate. "And anyone who doesn't see that is an idiot." We all fell silent, looking at my brother.

"I need to see this letter. I'd know his handwriting." I nodded at Baz.

"It's not Baz." Daphne rolled her eyes. I looked to my brother but he pointedly kept his gaze on his plate.

"Mr. Zabini." Twinkle stuck her head out the door. "We have an urgent fire message for you."

Blaise tensed up, but after a moment stood and headed inside.

"No one sends fire messages anymore," Theodore muttered. "I wonder who that could be?"

"I mean we're all here so." I shrugged, leaning back against him, I picked a tomato off of my plate and held it up to him. He leaned in and plucked it from my fingers.

"You two are disgusting," Pansy complained.

"Thank you." I smiled sweetly at her. She wrinkled her nose at me, but at this point, I knew that's just how Pansy was. There was a different vibe when she meant for it to be really insulting.

"I should probably get going." Draco stood up and stretched his arms over his head.

"Want to take a plate home to your mother?" I asked curiously. "Baz is going to take one for ours." Draco looked at the food and shook his head.

"No, her stomach is pretty sensitive, I don't know if she could handle any of this." Theodore stood, intending to escort Draco to the front hall to apparate away but before either of them could move, the door opened and Blaise came back out- looking absolutely stricken.

"Blaise?" Theodore frowned, all of us scrambling to stand up from wherever we had been sitting or lying.

Blaise took a deep breath, his hand shaking slightly as he pulled himself together. There were no tears but the way his Adam's apple bobbed, it was obvious that they were close.

"Jacob Fawley had a heart attack, he's in critical condition."

A/N - Thank you so much for reading! The story isn't over yet, there is so much more to come from this universe! A massive thank you to everyone who reviewed, liked, or followed. I hope you loved the story as much as I do.

Keep an eye out for Book 2: Prince of Wrath (spoiler, it's not going to be a long wait)