The Slytherin Redemption: Now Complete
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HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters › Het - Male/Female
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Adult
Chapters:
21
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4,340
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Category:
HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
21
Views:
4,340
Reviews:
25
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Salvation Chapter 18 and 19
These two chapters were beta'ed by Drusilla of Perfect Imagination.
Salvation
Chapter 18
Toby ate in constrained silence at the dinner table with Teddy's grandmother, his Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny and their three children. Scorpius sat beside Toby and mimicked every move the older boy made. Toby shifted in irritated tolerance while Scorpi aped him, as he reflected on the day's events.
Teddy and Toby had said their goodbyes to Rose and her brother, Robert, at the Hogwarts Station. Professor Zabini had ridden with the children, keeping to himself as he watched the horseless carriage draw near Hogsmeade. Rose had been sad, and Robert sullen as Teddy, Toby and Victoire boarded the train.
Toby had watched his friend from the window of the train as she waved sadly. He felt like his throat was clogging as they rounded the bend and he could not see Rose any longer. The three friends were silent most of the way to London, only occasionally commenting on the things their families had planned during the holiday. Victoire had looked out the window, drawing stick figures and little hearts in the moisture collected on the window.
They had reached London late in the day. Mrs. Tonks, Scorpi and Father Cavanaugh greeted the two boys. Father, who had been holding a friendly conversation with the older witch, had excused himself and had taken Toby aside. He had given the boy a sack containing nicely wrapped gifts. “Toby, I received your letter just last week, your Professor Zabini delivered it.”
Toby had scuffed his foot against the concrete of the platform, unsure what to say. The man's kind eyes sought the boy's as he lifted Toby's chin. “Son, you have no reason to worry about being a wizard. God created you just as you are, and I'm sure He made no mistakes with you.”
“Thank you father.” Toby said his fears miraculously allayed with those words. “I've missed going to Mass.”
“You are a good boy, as always.” The priest looked around. “I've known Draco for years, and never realised what a strange lot he came from. I was expecting to see you in a flowered robe with a sparrow-filled hat when you got off the Express.”
Toby laughed. “Wizards only dress like that when they want to look more like Muggles.”
“I see.” The priest nodded sagely as he scratched his cheek. “I suppose we should get you back to your party. I hope to see you at Mass on Sunday.”
“Yes, sir.” Toby said, before turning back to the Priest to give him a quick, fierce hug. “Thanks for being here.”
Father Cavanaugh's fingers ruffled Toby's wavy hair softly before he gave him a little push towards Mrs. Tonks. “Your friend's grandmother is waiting. You had best be off. Happy Christmas.”
“Happy Christmas to you too, sir.” Toby waved his goodbye as he dashed off to greet Mrs. Tonks and Scorpi.
Toby returned his attention to the company at hand, his eyes settling on the man that had been introduced as Uncle Harry. When Toby had first met him, it seemed impossible that someone so young had defeated the most powerful Dark Wizard of the age. Mr. Potter's eyes crinkled when they met, and he really talked to Toby and Teddy, as if they mattered. However, Toby noticed, when he thought no one was looking, Mr. Potter's eyes looked sad and a little old, as if he had seen too much too soon. The expression in them made Toby want to protect and please him at the same time.
All too soon, the boys were ushered off to bed, having opened one gift each. Scorpi had received a nice truck with lots of chrome from the Potters. Teddy had groaned as he opened his present and pulled out pyjamas in Gryffindor red and gold. He grimaced comically as he said, “Thank you Grandmother.”
Mrs. Tonks smiled and returned to her conversation with Mrs. Potter. Teddy whispered, “Don't get too excited, she always lets me open the pyjamas the night before Yule. I bet yours are in Slytherin colours.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Tonks,” Toby said, actually pleased as he pulled out his pyjamas of green and silver. His mum would have never thought of House-colour nightclothes.
The older woman said. “All right, young men, it's time for bed. Teddy, can you help Toby get Scorpius ready for bed, please?”
“Yes, ma'am.” The two boys stood and bid the adults a happy Christmas, knowing as soon as it was safe; they had some mistletoe to hang.
&*&*&
The dance had been going on for three hours and Liz had not been able to sit down yet. The only time she had really gotten to rest her feet was when she had danced with Hagrid, who was so tall that he carried her like a small child. She had come away smelling like wet dog and treacle tart, but at least her feet were not aching by the end of the song. Several times during the evening, enchanted mistletoe had passed over her head. She had been forced to kiss Professor Flitwick, who had accepted the brush of her lips to his cheek in embarrassed grace. A seventh year boy who was ushered off by a glowering Zabini had also kissed her, rather lustily. Lastly, she and Neville had been caught also about ten minutes ago, and both came away feeling like they had kissed a sibling. Shortly after that event, Neville had made his excuses and gone to talk to the blonde-haired woman that Liz had seen earlier. She had not seen either of them since.
Drake approached her as she sank to a waiting chair. He smirked as she her rubbed her foot, and ruefully asked, “Am I too late to get a dance?”
“Aw, Drake, just sit down with me for a mo, please.” Liz fairly groaned. Drake sat, and slid Liz's foot out of her sandal. He began rubbing the sole, concentrating on the ball of her foot as Liz closed her eyes and gave into the rapture she felt as he eased her pain.
As a soft moan escaped her lips, Drake whispered furiously, “Shite, Liz. Don't make that noise here.”
“What noise? This one?” She sounded off again, opening her eyes and batting her lashes like a lunatic coquette. She growled out another sound, letting her foot slip further down on Drake's lap, wiggling her toes naughtily. “Maybe that one's better?”
“You bloody heathen, don't, or by God, I will take you to the nearest empty classroom and teach you when to it's appropriate to make those noises.” Drake growled back as he pushed her foot off his lap and leaned forward. He pointed his wand at a sprig of mistletoe and it whisked over their heads. “You look delectable, and I've wanted to do this all evening.”
He kissed each of her cheeks right beside her mouth, lingering as he did so. Liz whispered, “When do you think we can leave?”
“The day's not over until midnight, Cinderella. We've got another hour.” Drake slipped his hand in hers as Professor Flitwick approached.
The little Professor smiled knowingly and asked to join them. Once seated he addressed Liz, “Tell me, Ms. Cowell, have you any wizards or witches in your ancestry?”
“Not that I know of.” Liz answered, her curiosity peaked. “Why?”
“Oh, nothing but my own curiosity. I have always been interested in the mechanism by which Muggles acquire magical ability within their family. You have just provided me with a working theory,” the Professor answered affably. “I believe in a few years, the assistance you rendered the little queen will begin to pay off, as it were. Tell me, did you feel different after she worked the last bit of magic over you?”
Drake sat forward, his expression suddenly intent. “You mean the bit of finger-waving it did?”
“I got a little dizzy,” Liz answered. “But it went away.”
The Professor sat back, smiling mysteriously as he said, “I'm not quite an expert on fairy and elf magics, I don't know even an iota of that which they are capable, but the movements she made seemed to indicate that, barring accidental death, your lifespan has been increased to that of a normal, healthy witch. The healing she did will protect you from the depredations of normal Muggle illnesses. That is the reason I told you she had given you quite a boon. I do wonder if there might have been a bit of magical ability conveyed to your future children as well, if so, you will have joined the ranks of such heroes as Thomas Rhymer and Osin of the Fiann. As I said before, Ms. Cowell, you are quite a remarkable woman.”
Drake looked at Liz, his expression a mixture of smug pride and admiration.
&*&*&
Toby waited until he saw the lights blink out in the hallway before he rose quietly and rifled through his duffle to retrieve the charmed mistletoe. He looked at his friend, sleeping peacefully and decided not to disturb him. Toby pulled on his dressing gown and placed the object in his pocket along with his wand.
As he made his way out into the hallway, he was surprised to see a faint glow emanating from the kitchen. He froze, torn between the desire to carry out his mission and the equally strong desire to flee back to the safety of his borrowed bed. He curled his fist around the sickly, limp feel of the mistletoe and made his decision.
He decided the best place to put it would be where there was not much activity. He cast a strongish hover charm, one that Rose had found for him in her search for the Compulsion charms. He watched it for a few moments making certain that it was not too observable and would remain hovering without sagging. His mission complete, he began to return to his room when he heard a soft sniffle coming from the kitchen. He fought the urge to run, deciding instead to creep to the kitchen door to satisfy his curiosity.
He saw Mrs. Tonks sitting at the kitchen table, a glass of amber-coloured liquid in her hand. Two framed pictures sat before her. One was a smiling dark-haired man who waved and blew kisses at her periodically. He seemed happy in the photo and when she stroked his cheek, he laughed. The other was of a woman who had pink hair and a wan, brown-haired man. The man's face looked like Teddy's and the woman's hair changed colours every so often. The man's warm gaze never left the woman's and the woman would reach down and rub her tummy, with a strange, sly smile on her face. These must have been Teddy's parents.
Mrs. Tonks took a sip of the liquid, and rubbed a hand under her eyes. Toby thought this was one of those alone times, like his mum had once a year. He knew she did not like to be disturbed when she drank and cried, so he figured that Mrs. Tonks would not like it either. He padded back down the hall to his shared room, a little unsettled as he found that adults had their sad times, just like children.
&*&*&
Neville passed Liz to Draco, as the blond cut in for the final dance of the evening. Her high colour and laughing smile made Draco hold her lightly even though the band was playing a retro-punk song and all the students around were doing a fair imitation of a frenzied Muggle mosh pit. A young Hufflepuff pushed Liz forcefully into Draco's arms, and she took advantage of the situation, kissing him with a forcefulness that almost unmanned him. He was finally able to break free and he moved them off the dance floor, his heart hammering.
Blaise intercepted them at the doors of the Hall, his face alight with pleasure as he saw Liz's hand in Draco's. He leaned into his friend and shouted over the music, “Leaving so soon? Are you sure you wouldn't like a nightcap before you leave? You know, we could discuss old times and all that.”
“Go to hell, Blaise.” Draco barked his good humour evident in his broad smile. Liz ducked her head to his shoulder, her own intoxicating scent wafting lazily around him. She rubbed his back and then lower and Draco pulled her away from the laughing Professor.
“Draco, you have to get my cloak!” She pulled at his hand. “I'll freeze outside.”
Draco paused, considering. He waved his wand, “Accio Liz's cloak.”
The cloak flew to them and Draco caught it. He swirled it around Liz's shoulders and fastened it with a flourish. “I am a wizard, Liz.”
“An impatient one.” She kissed him, cupping her hands around his jaws and pulling him closer. “Let's go.”
They Floo'ed from the Hog's Head to Draco's flat. Liz stumbled a little as she entered the room and Draco caught her, letting his hands roam her body, they came to rest on her bum and she snorted. Draco said, in mock pique, “What? You have some soot on you.”
Liz danced away, laughing as she shrugged out of her cloak and threw it at the couch. Draco stalked after her, and drew her to him once more. He noticed the erratic pulse in her throat and the sudden dryness of her lips as she licked them. He kissed the trail of moisture her tongue left, letting the taste and the feel of her wash over him. Her arms slipped around his neck as their kiss intensified. She pulled away, finally, her gaze troubled as she asked, “Drake, am I a fool to be afraid of what we're about to do?”
Draco's mood plummeted. He let go of her and sank to the couch. “Jesus, Liz, have I been too... aggressive tonight?”
“Don't be ridiculous, Drake. I know you'd never hurt me.” Liz sank next to him, her posture sagging as she said, “I mean, what if I'm not good at it?”
Draco let out the breath he had been holding in a huff of laughter. “Come here, kid.”
Liz leaned against him, her body stiff until he enveloped her in his arms.
“I don't think you have much to worry about, kid. You are so responsive and giving, I have no doubt, that when we make love you will be completely breathtaking.” He nuzzled her neck until he felt the chill-blains under his lips. “Now, let's go take a shower, and I'll show you how wrong your fears are.”
“Together?” Liz squeaked as Draco dragged her to her feet. “You're going to corrupt me, Draco Malfoy. I'm a good Catholic girl.”
“And you'll be a clean Catholic girl by the time we're finished.” With those words, Draco stooped and heaved her over his shoulder. She screamed with laughter all the way down the hall.
&*&*&
They had spent most of the night exploring each other's bodies and finally fell into an exhausted and thoroughly satiated sleep just before dawn. Draco stirred first, his body aching in muscles he had forgotten he had in the last months. He watched Liz as she slept. Her lashes fascinated him, and the dark smudgy shadows under them, in the early morning light, were lovely. He smiled remembering how he had kissed her eyelids last night. He had wanted to make love to every part of her, and she had given in to his demands with abandon. He had never felt so complete in his life as when he was in her arms, surrounded by her. He felt himself stir again.
He would never have enough of her.
&*&*&
Liz opened her eyes as Drake left the room. She supposed, since they were expected for Yule dinner at his aunt's house, that she should get up as well, but she just did not think her aching legs would hold her. She also supposed she should feel a total tart for not worrying about missing Christmas morning with her son for the first time since he was an infant. She just could not summon the guilt necessary for the task. She selfishly wanted to hold onto this one perfect moment for a while longer.
She suddenly felt like laughing with joy, so she buried her head in the pillow and giggled into it. Drake was everything she had expected him to be when they made love. He had been elegant, demanding, insatiable, and he had wanted to share himself with her, plain Liz, who was not rich, or posh, or a magical.
She flipped over on her back, her breasts aching at the thought of his touch on her again. He had made her feel so complete, as if she had been missing a piece of herself until they joined last night. She giggled again at the thought of all the places he had touched and tasted on her body, places that he had claimed as his own.
She heard his footsteps in the hallway, and she closed her eyes to slits so she could observe him. He slid into bed beside her, his voice heavy with desire as he purred, “I know you're awake, Liz.”
They did not get out of bed until much later that morning.
Salvation
Chapter 19
Lucius was trapped once again in a hell of his own making. Damn his wife and her faithlessness. The Auror in charge of guarding him, he could not recall the fellow's name, had told him he had not accomplished his murder of her. He was only a little gladdened by the news. Not that it mattered in any material sense, he would still be sent back to Azkaban at the end of his sojourn in hospital. The situation would have been quite laughable, really, if he were not the one going through it.
He had hoped to see his son and grandson today without the bloody Muggle bint. She made him feel uncomfortable, as if he knew her in some horrific context. He knew he had seen her before, but just could not place where. Draco obviously had some feelings for the girl, but mixed marriages were doomed from the start. Muggles were just too fragile and did not have the lifespan that wizards possessed. After his work during the war, he felt no hatred to Muggles as a general rule, maybe a little contempt, but that was all. That his son would be subject to more loss was Lucius' real objection to Draco's fascination with the breed. He did not want him hurt again. He would have to discourage the union somehow, whilst trying not to alienate his son in the process.
He felt himself becoming agitated so he turned his thoughts to his immediate concerns. The damned Doctor treating him, whose name he could never remember, was not even a proper Healer. She had him hooked up to tubes and devices that emitted unearthly sounds and dripped fluid into his body. He watched her progress across the interior of the MICU, a preposterous Muggle-sounding name if he had ever heard one, his grey eyes noting the cool way she connected with her colleagues and the professional distance she gave herself with the other patients.
She was quite lovely, if one liked hourglass figures, limpid almond eyes, and soft, exotic perfumes. Bloody hell, she had seen him watching her and she had flushed. Lucius' groin tightened at the red tinge of her skin and the fluttering of her lashes evoked by his notice. He ran through the Arithmantic tables he had been forced to learn as a boy, trying to distract his wayward body from its arousal. It would not do for the doctor to see she had an effect on him. He was a bloody convict for Merlin's sake; his pride would not allow him to feel something for a woman who probably felt nothing but contemptuous pity for him.
She entered his cubicle smiling slightly at him. His single-minded todger reacted to her presence and he clumsily smashed it down under his nearly dead right hand. He felt his face and neck heat, as if he were a bloody teenager with raging hormones and no control. An involuntary moan escaped his mouth as the pressure of his hand caused unexpected pleasure. She sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her Muggle doctor gear out and flashing a light in his eyes. “Mr. Malfoy, are you in pain?”
All concern, that one, and not a practical brain in her head. Lucius pressed his eyes shut, letting a hissing breath out through his lips. He felt her raise his hand even as he attempted to resist. She uttered a soft, throaty, “Oh.”
He opened his eyes to slits, observing the thoughtful expression on the Doctor's face. “Well, you must be feeling better, anyway, Mr. Malfoy.”
His eyes flew open and he cast a look of hauteur at her as well as he could with half his face dead. “Call m-me what... am. Pah-prisoner Malfoy.”
“Are you feeling a little sorry for yourself today?” she asked, shifting so that she could see his face better. “You know it won't make things better for you.”
“You should... Family, yours today.” Lucius knew the words were wrong, but could not get his faulty brain to make them right.
The doctor looked at him, her face a study in perplexity, until she said, “Oh, no, I'm Hindu. Yule isn't really a holiday I celebrate. That's why I volunteered to work.”
“You sure that's all?” Lucius tried to give a rakish grin, and knew he had succeeded when the doctor blushed again.
“You really are the most charming man, Lucius Malfoy,” she said, her smile like the... bloody hell, who was that Italian baggage that the other Italian had painted? She hung in the French place, with all the other paintings...
“Mona Lisa,” he said aloud, his voice triumphant.
The doctor laughed, a low noise that hinted at dark pleasures and heated depths. “Thank you. Anytime you want to give me outrageous compliments, just call my name. I must be off now.”
“Mona Lisa,” Lucius whispered as she stood. “Your name.”
&*&*&
Toby greeted his family at the door and dutifully kissed his mother and grandmother, then bowed to Draco. Draco ruffled the child's hair. “Why the formality, little man? And where's my Scorpius?”
Draco felt as if a ball of blond lightning hit his legs as his son barrelled into him. He picked him up and snuggled every sticky inch of him against his own body. “Did you miss me?”
“Yep, and Aunty Lizzie too.” Scorpius reached toward Liz, nearly overbalancing as she just barely caught him.
Liz scooped him out of Draco's arm and then bent to kiss her son's cheek. Toby manfully bore the attention, but Draco noted with some amusement that he backed away and rubbed the spot that had been bussed with his hand. “Mum, you'll get junk on me.”
Andromeda, who had been standing with her grandson, hands folded, moved forward gracefully, and relieved the older Muggle of her wrap. “Come in, please, you must be Liz's mother. It's so nice to meet you.”
“M'name's Bertie,” Liz's mother said, her harsh East End accent a short staccato. “Drake, love, hand me that pudding you shrank. I hope it didn't ruin.”
Draco dutifully handed Bertie Cowell the small pudding then helped Liz out of her coat. He noticed, almost too late, that he had left a rather obvious love-bite low on her neck. He took off his woollen muffler and draped it around her, transfiguring it to a silk scarf. Liz attempted to remove it, pulling a face as she reproached, “Drake.”
He stopped her movement and leaned to her. “Don't take it off unless you want my aunt and your mother to know what kept us this morning, you know, good, clean, Catholic girl that you are.”
Liz flushed and gave him a small shove. “Wanker.”
“Not any more,” Draco smirked then turned to Toby saying in a normal tone, as he squeezed his shoulder, “So, Professor Zabini told me you and your friends have been doing a little extra credit work on mistletoe. I take it you've hung it somewhere that your Mum and me will find it.”
“Merlin, that was supposed to be a secret!” Teddy exclaimed, his hair fluctuating between black and bright reddish orange. “Toby, didn't you tell the One-Armed Prof that?”
Andromeda immediately turned to her grandson. “What have you got up to now, Theodore Lupin? And don't be disrespectful of your professors. I swear; you are more like your mother every day. Sometimes I wish you had taken after your father.”
“I can't believe he told you,” Toby murmured to Draco. He held his body in a rebellious pose and pouted. “We didn't mean any harm.”
Liz gave Draco a communicating look, then followed her mother and Andromeda to the kitchen as the older witch pulled her grandson behind her, scolding him all the way. Scorpius toddled behind them, no doubt hoping he would be able to sample some of the pudding before dinner. Draco drew Toby to the couch. “Toby, I know things have been hard on you this year, but I would like to ask your permission about something that would maybe make things a little different.”
“What?” Toby's expression changed from sullen to curious.
“I would like to ask your mother to marry me, and I would like to adopt you,” Draco said, as the boy settled back against him. “Would you let me do that?”
“Yeah! I've got to go tell Teddy.” Toby stood then turned to Draco. “Does Mum know yet that you love her?”
Draco had not really anticipated this reaction. “Uh, yes, I believe she does.”
“Have you kissed her yet?” Toby's expression transformed to that of a protective male.
“Yes.” Draco felt a bubble of inappropriate laughter rise and was unable to meet the boy's eyes as images of the night before flitted across his mind. He had most definitely kissed her.
The boy gave Draco a considering look as he rubbed his lips across his teeth. “Are you going to ask her today?”
“Well, I thought maybe she would want something more romantic than, 'Would you marry me, and pass the turkey, while you think about it,' Toby,” Draco laughed nervously. “I just thought since you were in school... well, no, I wasn't going to ask her today, but soon.”
Toby's eyes narrowed. “No, do it today. She'll like it.”
“Do what today?” Liz asked from the door leading to the kitchen. “The food is ready; your Aunt is a marvel, Drake. She even got Toby to help this morning.”
“Mum, Uncle Drake wants to ask you something.” Toby turned to Draco giving the older wizard a triumphant, tilted-chin look.
“Toby!” Draco shouted, grabbing the boy's arm. “I will... think about it. Later.”
Liz looked between the two, perplexed. “Whatever, you two, just wash up, we're all waiting on you.”
It was then that Draco wondered why he had thought it a good idea to talk to Toby today, of all days
&*&*&
The meal went as well as could be expected, if one considered train wrecks pleasurable. Between Toby's pointed looks, the whispered conversations between the boys and Bertie Cowell's discovery of Liz's love-bite, Draco could not have wished for a more uncomfortable Yule. Andromeda, looking alternately harried and scandalised at the turn of events stood suddenly and broke out a fine cognac. “I've been saving this for a special occasion, and I think today is special enough. It's been years since I've had a family to celebrate Yule with.”
Mrs. Cowell asked Liz in a stage whisper, “Is that how I raised you, to go off with a bloke on the first date and get marked up like some hussy?”
“Mum, it's not what you think,” Liz said, attempting to pull the scarf closer around her neck. “Just leave off, okay?”
Teddy sniggered, looking directly at Draco. “I bet Professor Longbottom didn't do that.”
Andromeda, who had downed a glass of the liquor, slid the bottle toward Bertie, who poured some for herself into her water glass. “So, what am I to think? I walk in on you and Drake rolling around like puppies with their tails tied together one day, and the next you're haring off after some Professor to a ball of all things.”
Draco grabbed the cognac and took a belt straight from the bottle. The two older boys stared open-mouthed at the exchange between mother and daughter. Draco felt the fire of the liquor in his blood almost as he swallowed it. Five years he had been sober, and one meal with family was driving him to drink. He raised the bottle again and Liz grabbed it, the contents sloshing as she pulled it away. “Draco Malfoy, that is enough. What can you be thinking?”
Scorpius began wailing and Toby started to say something over the din when Draco slammed his fist on the table. “That is enough!”
The room fell silent. “Mrs. Cowell, I gave your daughter that mark, and she is not a hussy. Toby, take Scorpius and Teddy into the parlour. Liz, I need to speak with you privately, if I may.”
Toby gave a whoop. “Mum, he's going to ask you to marry him! Are you going to say yes, please?”
Bertie burst into tears and Andromeda looked stunned. Liz folded her serviette primly and sat it beside her plate, her hands shaking as she did so. Draco noted the dangerous gleam in her eye as she said, “Tobias Reginald Cowell, you need to do as your uncle said. We will talk about your disobedience later.”
The three boys slunk out of the room, Toby with a subdued, “Yes, Mum.”
“Now, Drake, what were you going to ask?” Liz stared straight ahead, her eyes cast down. “I know it can't be what Toby just said.”
“And why couldn't it be? Jesus, Liz, we've known each other for the last five years, last night was pretty damned perfect, and I love you. Why couldn't I ask you to marry me? Today. Right now.” Draco blinked. He had not known the words would spill out of his mouth, until he said them.
Liz looked down at her plate, her voice muffled and lifeless as she asked, “Was that what you were going to talk to me about?”
Mrs. Cowell's sobs took on a hiccoughing quality as Draco answered, “Well, yes. I mean I wanted to wait until I had a ring and could do it properly, but Toby wanted me to do it today and then your mother was... and well... will you Liz? Marry me, I mean? I don't want to risk losing you. I don't think I could stand it.”
“Oh.” Liz stood, lifting a tear-streaked face to his. “I thought you were going to ask if we could see your father today.”
“Well, that too, but... Oh hell, Liz, just forget I said anything.” Draco smoothed a hand over his hair. “It seems I always bollocks thing up with you.”
“Yes.” Liz's voice was uncharacteristically soft as she spoke.
“She said yes, but I don't know what about.” Andromeda leaned forward, asking Bertie, “Do you understand anything that's going on?”
Over her mother's wailed negative Liz said tartly, “Yes, you always bollocks things up. Yes, we can go see your father. And, yes, I will marry you if you really mean it.”
“That has got to be the worst proposal I've ever heard,” Andromeda said. “And that's even after Dora broke a tooth on the ring that her husband put in her pudding.”
Draco scowled at his aunt before he gathered Liz to him. He whispered in her ear. “Yeah, kid I really do mean it.”
&*&*&
Andromeda was tidying up in the kitchen after all the gifts had been opened. Liz rose to help, but Andromeda refused. “No dear, you're a guest, just enjoy yourself.”
Draco, who had been alternating between euphoria and utter terror, kissed Liz on the brow and excused himself. He followed his Aunt who had several Cleansing Charms going on various pots, but had all the china and crystal piled up next to the sink, washing each piece by hand. Draco stood next to her, looking down on her greying hair as he took a soapy plate from her. “I think I owe you an apology for ruining dinner.”
“No, Draco, you just kept up the Black family tradition,” his aunt grimaced. “Are you sure about marrying her? It seemed like you were under a little pressure.”
“You don't say,” Draco laughed. “But, yes, I am sure. I wouldn't know what to do without her in my life.”
“You two suit each other,” Andromeda observed as if surprised. She paused in her chore, letting her hands fall into the soapy dishwater. “What will your parents say?”
“My parents are in Azkaban for the rest of their lives, Aunt. Given the choices they made, I don't think they have much right to have a say in my decisions,” Draco said heavily. His aunt handed him another plate and he cast a Drying Charm and set it to the side. “I am sorry about what my mother and Aunt Bella did to your family. I never really talked to Nymphadora, but Lupin seemed a good sort.”
“He was a werewolf, Draco, how good a sort is that?” His aunt frowned. “That wasn't charitable of me. He adored my daughter and his son, and to be honest, he reminded me a little of my late husband.”
They continued the chore set before them in companionable silence. Andromeda handed him the last crystal goblet and watched as he cast another Drying Charm on it. “I have something I want to give you. Just wait in here and I'll go fetch it.”
She returned moments later with a small jewellery box gilded with the Black family crest. “Harry Potter gave this to me a few years ago. He inherited the Black family's vault from my cousin, Sirius, along with the family home in London. He thought I might like to give it to Teddy, but to be honest, I don't have many fond memories of my family.”
Draco opened the ancient box carefully. In it lay a plain platinum band and a large diamond ring in an old-fashioned, square cut. Andromeda said, “It belonged to Phineas Nigellus' second wife. She was Muggle-born. I can't think of a person it would suit better than your Liz.”
“I don't know what to say,” Draco managed. “’Thank you’ doesn't seem adequate.”
Andromeda put her arm around his waist. “Just make her happy, Draco. That will be thanks enough.”
“I'll try,” Draco said, hugging his Aunt shyly. “But now I've got some mistletoe to make a grand gesture under.”
AN: The idea of Phineas Nigellus having a Muggleborn wife came from Kerichi's fantastic story, Paint it Black posted on fanfiction.net. If you get a chance, check it out.
Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think, review.
Chapter 18
Toby ate in constrained silence at the dinner table with Teddy's grandmother, his Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny and their three children. Scorpius sat beside Toby and mimicked every move the older boy made. Toby shifted in irritated tolerance while Scorpi aped him, as he reflected on the day's events.
Teddy and Toby had said their goodbyes to Rose and her brother, Robert, at the Hogwarts Station. Professor Zabini had ridden with the children, keeping to himself as he watched the horseless carriage draw near Hogsmeade. Rose had been sad, and Robert sullen as Teddy, Toby and Victoire boarded the train.
Toby had watched his friend from the window of the train as she waved sadly. He felt like his throat was clogging as they rounded the bend and he could not see Rose any longer. The three friends were silent most of the way to London, only occasionally commenting on the things their families had planned during the holiday. Victoire had looked out the window, drawing stick figures and little hearts in the moisture collected on the window.
They had reached London late in the day. Mrs. Tonks, Scorpi and Father Cavanaugh greeted the two boys. Father, who had been holding a friendly conversation with the older witch, had excused himself and had taken Toby aside. He had given the boy a sack containing nicely wrapped gifts. “Toby, I received your letter just last week, your Professor Zabini delivered it.”
Toby had scuffed his foot against the concrete of the platform, unsure what to say. The man's kind eyes sought the boy's as he lifted Toby's chin. “Son, you have no reason to worry about being a wizard. God created you just as you are, and I'm sure He made no mistakes with you.”
“Thank you father.” Toby said his fears miraculously allayed with those words. “I've missed going to Mass.”
“You are a good boy, as always.” The priest looked around. “I've known Draco for years, and never realised what a strange lot he came from. I was expecting to see you in a flowered robe with a sparrow-filled hat when you got off the Express.”
Toby laughed. “Wizards only dress like that when they want to look more like Muggles.”
“I see.” The priest nodded sagely as he scratched his cheek. “I suppose we should get you back to your party. I hope to see you at Mass on Sunday.”
“Yes, sir.” Toby said, before turning back to the Priest to give him a quick, fierce hug. “Thanks for being here.”
Father Cavanaugh's fingers ruffled Toby's wavy hair softly before he gave him a little push towards Mrs. Tonks. “Your friend's grandmother is waiting. You had best be off. Happy Christmas.”
“Happy Christmas to you too, sir.” Toby waved his goodbye as he dashed off to greet Mrs. Tonks and Scorpi.
Toby returned his attention to the company at hand, his eyes settling on the man that had been introduced as Uncle Harry. When Toby had first met him, it seemed impossible that someone so young had defeated the most powerful Dark Wizard of the age. Mr. Potter's eyes crinkled when they met, and he really talked to Toby and Teddy, as if they mattered. However, Toby noticed, when he thought no one was looking, Mr. Potter's eyes looked sad and a little old, as if he had seen too much too soon. The expression in them made Toby want to protect and please him at the same time.
All too soon, the boys were ushered off to bed, having opened one gift each. Scorpi had received a nice truck with lots of chrome from the Potters. Teddy had groaned as he opened his present and pulled out pyjamas in Gryffindor red and gold. He grimaced comically as he said, “Thank you Grandmother.”
Mrs. Tonks smiled and returned to her conversation with Mrs. Potter. Teddy whispered, “Don't get too excited, she always lets me open the pyjamas the night before Yule. I bet yours are in Slytherin colours.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Tonks,” Toby said, actually pleased as he pulled out his pyjamas of green and silver. His mum would have never thought of House-colour nightclothes.
The older woman said. “All right, young men, it's time for bed. Teddy, can you help Toby get Scorpius ready for bed, please?”
“Yes, ma'am.” The two boys stood and bid the adults a happy Christmas, knowing as soon as it was safe; they had some mistletoe to hang.
The dance had been going on for three hours and Liz had not been able to sit down yet. The only time she had really gotten to rest her feet was when she had danced with Hagrid, who was so tall that he carried her like a small child. She had come away smelling like wet dog and treacle tart, but at least her feet were not aching by the end of the song. Several times during the evening, enchanted mistletoe had passed over her head. She had been forced to kiss Professor Flitwick, who had accepted the brush of her lips to his cheek in embarrassed grace. A seventh year boy who was ushered off by a glowering Zabini had also kissed her, rather lustily. Lastly, she and Neville had been caught also about ten minutes ago, and both came away feeling like they had kissed a sibling. Shortly after that event, Neville had made his excuses and gone to talk to the blonde-haired woman that Liz had seen earlier. She had not seen either of them since.
Drake approached her as she sank to a waiting chair. He smirked as she her rubbed her foot, and ruefully asked, “Am I too late to get a dance?”
“Aw, Drake, just sit down with me for a mo, please.” Liz fairly groaned. Drake sat, and slid Liz's foot out of her sandal. He began rubbing the sole, concentrating on the ball of her foot as Liz closed her eyes and gave into the rapture she felt as he eased her pain.
As a soft moan escaped her lips, Drake whispered furiously, “Shite, Liz. Don't make that noise here.”
“What noise? This one?” She sounded off again, opening her eyes and batting her lashes like a lunatic coquette. She growled out another sound, letting her foot slip further down on Drake's lap, wiggling her toes naughtily. “Maybe that one's better?”
“You bloody heathen, don't, or by God, I will take you to the nearest empty classroom and teach you when to it's appropriate to make those noises.” Drake growled back as he pushed her foot off his lap and leaned forward. He pointed his wand at a sprig of mistletoe and it whisked over their heads. “You look delectable, and I've wanted to do this all evening.”
He kissed each of her cheeks right beside her mouth, lingering as he did so. Liz whispered, “When do you think we can leave?”
“The day's not over until midnight, Cinderella. We've got another hour.” Drake slipped his hand in hers as Professor Flitwick approached.
The little Professor smiled knowingly and asked to join them. Once seated he addressed Liz, “Tell me, Ms. Cowell, have you any wizards or witches in your ancestry?”
“Not that I know of.” Liz answered, her curiosity peaked. “Why?”
“Oh, nothing but my own curiosity. I have always been interested in the mechanism by which Muggles acquire magical ability within their family. You have just provided me with a working theory,” the Professor answered affably. “I believe in a few years, the assistance you rendered the little queen will begin to pay off, as it were. Tell me, did you feel different after she worked the last bit of magic over you?”
Drake sat forward, his expression suddenly intent. “You mean the bit of finger-waving it did?”
“I got a little dizzy,” Liz answered. “But it went away.”
The Professor sat back, smiling mysteriously as he said, “I'm not quite an expert on fairy and elf magics, I don't know even an iota of that which they are capable, but the movements she made seemed to indicate that, barring accidental death, your lifespan has been increased to that of a normal, healthy witch. The healing she did will protect you from the depredations of normal Muggle illnesses. That is the reason I told you she had given you quite a boon. I do wonder if there might have been a bit of magical ability conveyed to your future children as well, if so, you will have joined the ranks of such heroes as Thomas Rhymer and Osin of the Fiann. As I said before, Ms. Cowell, you are quite a remarkable woman.”
Drake looked at Liz, his expression a mixture of smug pride and admiration.
Toby waited until he saw the lights blink out in the hallway before he rose quietly and rifled through his duffle to retrieve the charmed mistletoe. He looked at his friend, sleeping peacefully and decided not to disturb him. Toby pulled on his dressing gown and placed the object in his pocket along with his wand.
As he made his way out into the hallway, he was surprised to see a faint glow emanating from the kitchen. He froze, torn between the desire to carry out his mission and the equally strong desire to flee back to the safety of his borrowed bed. He curled his fist around the sickly, limp feel of the mistletoe and made his decision.
He decided the best place to put it would be where there was not much activity. He cast a strongish hover charm, one that Rose had found for him in her search for the Compulsion charms. He watched it for a few moments making certain that it was not too observable and would remain hovering without sagging. His mission complete, he began to return to his room when he heard a soft sniffle coming from the kitchen. He fought the urge to run, deciding instead to creep to the kitchen door to satisfy his curiosity.
He saw Mrs. Tonks sitting at the kitchen table, a glass of amber-coloured liquid in her hand. Two framed pictures sat before her. One was a smiling dark-haired man who waved and blew kisses at her periodically. He seemed happy in the photo and when she stroked his cheek, he laughed. The other was of a woman who had pink hair and a wan, brown-haired man. The man's face looked like Teddy's and the woman's hair changed colours every so often. The man's warm gaze never left the woman's and the woman would reach down and rub her tummy, with a strange, sly smile on her face. These must have been Teddy's parents.
Mrs. Tonks took a sip of the liquid, and rubbed a hand under her eyes. Toby thought this was one of those alone times, like his mum had once a year. He knew she did not like to be disturbed when she drank and cried, so he figured that Mrs. Tonks would not like it either. He padded back down the hall to his shared room, a little unsettled as he found that adults had their sad times, just like children.
Neville passed Liz to Draco, as the blond cut in for the final dance of the evening. Her high colour and laughing smile made Draco hold her lightly even though the band was playing a retro-punk song and all the students around were doing a fair imitation of a frenzied Muggle mosh pit. A young Hufflepuff pushed Liz forcefully into Draco's arms, and she took advantage of the situation, kissing him with a forcefulness that almost unmanned him. He was finally able to break free and he moved them off the dance floor, his heart hammering.
Blaise intercepted them at the doors of the Hall, his face alight with pleasure as he saw Liz's hand in Draco's. He leaned into his friend and shouted over the music, “Leaving so soon? Are you sure you wouldn't like a nightcap before you leave? You know, we could discuss old times and all that.”
“Go to hell, Blaise.” Draco barked his good humour evident in his broad smile. Liz ducked her head to his shoulder, her own intoxicating scent wafting lazily around him. She rubbed his back and then lower and Draco pulled her away from the laughing Professor.
“Draco, you have to get my cloak!” She pulled at his hand. “I'll freeze outside.”
Draco paused, considering. He waved his wand, “Accio Liz's cloak.”
The cloak flew to them and Draco caught it. He swirled it around Liz's shoulders and fastened it with a flourish. “I am a wizard, Liz.”
“An impatient one.” She kissed him, cupping her hands around his jaws and pulling him closer. “Let's go.”
They Floo'ed from the Hog's Head to Draco's flat. Liz stumbled a little as she entered the room and Draco caught her, letting his hands roam her body, they came to rest on her bum and she snorted. Draco said, in mock pique, “What? You have some soot on you.”
Liz danced away, laughing as she shrugged out of her cloak and threw it at the couch. Draco stalked after her, and drew her to him once more. He noticed the erratic pulse in her throat and the sudden dryness of her lips as she licked them. He kissed the trail of moisture her tongue left, letting the taste and the feel of her wash over him. Her arms slipped around his neck as their kiss intensified. She pulled away, finally, her gaze troubled as she asked, “Drake, am I a fool to be afraid of what we're about to do?”
Draco's mood plummeted. He let go of her and sank to the couch. “Jesus, Liz, have I been too... aggressive tonight?”
“Don't be ridiculous, Drake. I know you'd never hurt me.” Liz sank next to him, her posture sagging as she said, “I mean, what if I'm not good at it?”
Draco let out the breath he had been holding in a huff of laughter. “Come here, kid.”
Liz leaned against him, her body stiff until he enveloped her in his arms.
“I don't think you have much to worry about, kid. You are so responsive and giving, I have no doubt, that when we make love you will be completely breathtaking.” He nuzzled her neck until he felt the chill-blains under his lips. “Now, let's go take a shower, and I'll show you how wrong your fears are.”
“Together?” Liz squeaked as Draco dragged her to her feet. “You're going to corrupt me, Draco Malfoy. I'm a good Catholic girl.”
“And you'll be a clean Catholic girl by the time we're finished.” With those words, Draco stooped and heaved her over his shoulder. She screamed with laughter all the way down the hall.
They had spent most of the night exploring each other's bodies and finally fell into an exhausted and thoroughly satiated sleep just before dawn. Draco stirred first, his body aching in muscles he had forgotten he had in the last months. He watched Liz as she slept. Her lashes fascinated him, and the dark smudgy shadows under them, in the early morning light, were lovely. He smiled remembering how he had kissed her eyelids last night. He had wanted to make love to every part of her, and she had given in to his demands with abandon. He had never felt so complete in his life as when he was in her arms, surrounded by her. He felt himself stir again.
He would never have enough of her.
Liz opened her eyes as Drake left the room. She supposed, since they were expected for Yule dinner at his aunt's house, that she should get up as well, but she just did not think her aching legs would hold her. She also supposed she should feel a total tart for not worrying about missing Christmas morning with her son for the first time since he was an infant. She just could not summon the guilt necessary for the task. She selfishly wanted to hold onto this one perfect moment for a while longer.
She suddenly felt like laughing with joy, so she buried her head in the pillow and giggled into it. Drake was everything she had expected him to be when they made love. He had been elegant, demanding, insatiable, and he had wanted to share himself with her, plain Liz, who was not rich, or posh, or a magical.
She flipped over on her back, her breasts aching at the thought of his touch on her again. He had made her feel so complete, as if she had been missing a piece of herself until they joined last night. She giggled again at the thought of all the places he had touched and tasted on her body, places that he had claimed as his own.
She heard his footsteps in the hallway, and she closed her eyes to slits so she could observe him. He slid into bed beside her, his voice heavy with desire as he purred, “I know you're awake, Liz.”
They did not get out of bed until much later that morning.
Salvation
Chapter 19
Lucius was trapped once again in a hell of his own making. Damn his wife and her faithlessness. The Auror in charge of guarding him, he could not recall the fellow's name, had told him he had not accomplished his murder of her. He was only a little gladdened by the news. Not that it mattered in any material sense, he would still be sent back to Azkaban at the end of his sojourn in hospital. The situation would have been quite laughable, really, if he were not the one going through it.
He had hoped to see his son and grandson today without the bloody Muggle bint. She made him feel uncomfortable, as if he knew her in some horrific context. He knew he had seen her before, but just could not place where. Draco obviously had some feelings for the girl, but mixed marriages were doomed from the start. Muggles were just too fragile and did not have the lifespan that wizards possessed. After his work during the war, he felt no hatred to Muggles as a general rule, maybe a little contempt, but that was all. That his son would be subject to more loss was Lucius' real objection to Draco's fascination with the breed. He did not want him hurt again. He would have to discourage the union somehow, whilst trying not to alienate his son in the process.
He felt himself becoming agitated so he turned his thoughts to his immediate concerns. The damned Doctor treating him, whose name he could never remember, was not even a proper Healer. She had him hooked up to tubes and devices that emitted unearthly sounds and dripped fluid into his body. He watched her progress across the interior of the MICU, a preposterous Muggle-sounding name if he had ever heard one, his grey eyes noting the cool way she connected with her colleagues and the professional distance she gave herself with the other patients.
She was quite lovely, if one liked hourglass figures, limpid almond eyes, and soft, exotic perfumes. Bloody hell, she had seen him watching her and she had flushed. Lucius' groin tightened at the red tinge of her skin and the fluttering of her lashes evoked by his notice. He ran through the Arithmantic tables he had been forced to learn as a boy, trying to distract his wayward body from its arousal. It would not do for the doctor to see she had an effect on him. He was a bloody convict for Merlin's sake; his pride would not allow him to feel something for a woman who probably felt nothing but contemptuous pity for him.
She entered his cubicle smiling slightly at him. His single-minded todger reacted to her presence and he clumsily smashed it down under his nearly dead right hand. He felt his face and neck heat, as if he were a bloody teenager with raging hormones and no control. An involuntary moan escaped his mouth as the pressure of his hand caused unexpected pleasure. She sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her Muggle doctor gear out and flashing a light in his eyes. “Mr. Malfoy, are you in pain?”
All concern, that one, and not a practical brain in her head. Lucius pressed his eyes shut, letting a hissing breath out through his lips. He felt her raise his hand even as he attempted to resist. She uttered a soft, throaty, “Oh.”
He opened his eyes to slits, observing the thoughtful expression on the Doctor's face. “Well, you must be feeling better, anyway, Mr. Malfoy.”
His eyes flew open and he cast a look of hauteur at her as well as he could with half his face dead. “Call m-me what... am. Pah-prisoner Malfoy.”
“Are you feeling a little sorry for yourself today?” she asked, shifting so that she could see his face better. “You know it won't make things better for you.”
“You should... Family, yours today.” Lucius knew the words were wrong, but could not get his faulty brain to make them right.
The doctor looked at him, her face a study in perplexity, until she said, “Oh, no, I'm Hindu. Yule isn't really a holiday I celebrate. That's why I volunteered to work.”
“You sure that's all?” Lucius tried to give a rakish grin, and knew he had succeeded when the doctor blushed again.
“You really are the most charming man, Lucius Malfoy,” she said, her smile like the... bloody hell, who was that Italian baggage that the other Italian had painted? She hung in the French place, with all the other paintings...
“Mona Lisa,” he said aloud, his voice triumphant.
The doctor laughed, a low noise that hinted at dark pleasures and heated depths. “Thank you. Anytime you want to give me outrageous compliments, just call my name. I must be off now.”
“Mona Lisa,” Lucius whispered as she stood. “Your name.”
Toby greeted his family at the door and dutifully kissed his mother and grandmother, then bowed to Draco. Draco ruffled the child's hair. “Why the formality, little man? And where's my Scorpius?”
Draco felt as if a ball of blond lightning hit his legs as his son barrelled into him. He picked him up and snuggled every sticky inch of him against his own body. “Did you miss me?”
“Yep, and Aunty Lizzie too.” Scorpius reached toward Liz, nearly overbalancing as she just barely caught him.
Liz scooped him out of Draco's arm and then bent to kiss her son's cheek. Toby manfully bore the attention, but Draco noted with some amusement that he backed away and rubbed the spot that had been bussed with his hand. “Mum, you'll get junk on me.”
Andromeda, who had been standing with her grandson, hands folded, moved forward gracefully, and relieved the older Muggle of her wrap. “Come in, please, you must be Liz's mother. It's so nice to meet you.”
“M'name's Bertie,” Liz's mother said, her harsh East End accent a short staccato. “Drake, love, hand me that pudding you shrank. I hope it didn't ruin.”
Draco dutifully handed Bertie Cowell the small pudding then helped Liz out of her coat. He noticed, almost too late, that he had left a rather obvious love-bite low on her neck. He took off his woollen muffler and draped it around her, transfiguring it to a silk scarf. Liz attempted to remove it, pulling a face as she reproached, “Drake.”
He stopped her movement and leaned to her. “Don't take it off unless you want my aunt and your mother to know what kept us this morning, you know, good, clean, Catholic girl that you are.”
Liz flushed and gave him a small shove. “Wanker.”
“Not any more,” Draco smirked then turned to Toby saying in a normal tone, as he squeezed his shoulder, “So, Professor Zabini told me you and your friends have been doing a little extra credit work on mistletoe. I take it you've hung it somewhere that your Mum and me will find it.”
“Merlin, that was supposed to be a secret!” Teddy exclaimed, his hair fluctuating between black and bright reddish orange. “Toby, didn't you tell the One-Armed Prof that?”
Andromeda immediately turned to her grandson. “What have you got up to now, Theodore Lupin? And don't be disrespectful of your professors. I swear; you are more like your mother every day. Sometimes I wish you had taken after your father.”
“I can't believe he told you,” Toby murmured to Draco. He held his body in a rebellious pose and pouted. “We didn't mean any harm.”
Liz gave Draco a communicating look, then followed her mother and Andromeda to the kitchen as the older witch pulled her grandson behind her, scolding him all the way. Scorpius toddled behind them, no doubt hoping he would be able to sample some of the pudding before dinner. Draco drew Toby to the couch. “Toby, I know things have been hard on you this year, but I would like to ask your permission about something that would maybe make things a little different.”
“What?” Toby's expression changed from sullen to curious.
“I would like to ask your mother to marry me, and I would like to adopt you,” Draco said, as the boy settled back against him. “Would you let me do that?”
“Yeah! I've got to go tell Teddy.” Toby stood then turned to Draco. “Does Mum know yet that you love her?”
Draco had not really anticipated this reaction. “Uh, yes, I believe she does.”
“Have you kissed her yet?” Toby's expression transformed to that of a protective male.
“Yes.” Draco felt a bubble of inappropriate laughter rise and was unable to meet the boy's eyes as images of the night before flitted across his mind. He had most definitely kissed her.
The boy gave Draco a considering look as he rubbed his lips across his teeth. “Are you going to ask her today?”
“Well, I thought maybe she would want something more romantic than, 'Would you marry me, and pass the turkey, while you think about it,' Toby,” Draco laughed nervously. “I just thought since you were in school... well, no, I wasn't going to ask her today, but soon.”
Toby's eyes narrowed. “No, do it today. She'll like it.”
“Do what today?” Liz asked from the door leading to the kitchen. “The food is ready; your Aunt is a marvel, Drake. She even got Toby to help this morning.”
“Mum, Uncle Drake wants to ask you something.” Toby turned to Draco giving the older wizard a triumphant, tilted-chin look.
“Toby!” Draco shouted, grabbing the boy's arm. “I will... think about it. Later.”
Liz looked between the two, perplexed. “Whatever, you two, just wash up, we're all waiting on you.”
It was then that Draco wondered why he had thought it a good idea to talk to Toby today, of all days
The meal went as well as could be expected, if one considered train wrecks pleasurable. Between Toby's pointed looks, the whispered conversations between the boys and Bertie Cowell's discovery of Liz's love-bite, Draco could not have wished for a more uncomfortable Yule. Andromeda, looking alternately harried and scandalised at the turn of events stood suddenly and broke out a fine cognac. “I've been saving this for a special occasion, and I think today is special enough. It's been years since I've had a family to celebrate Yule with.”
Mrs. Cowell asked Liz in a stage whisper, “Is that how I raised you, to go off with a bloke on the first date and get marked up like some hussy?”
“Mum, it's not what you think,” Liz said, attempting to pull the scarf closer around her neck. “Just leave off, okay?”
Teddy sniggered, looking directly at Draco. “I bet Professor Longbottom didn't do that.”
Andromeda, who had downed a glass of the liquor, slid the bottle toward Bertie, who poured some for herself into her water glass. “So, what am I to think? I walk in on you and Drake rolling around like puppies with their tails tied together one day, and the next you're haring off after some Professor to a ball of all things.”
Draco grabbed the cognac and took a belt straight from the bottle. The two older boys stared open-mouthed at the exchange between mother and daughter. Draco felt the fire of the liquor in his blood almost as he swallowed it. Five years he had been sober, and one meal with family was driving him to drink. He raised the bottle again and Liz grabbed it, the contents sloshing as she pulled it away. “Draco Malfoy, that is enough. What can you be thinking?”
Scorpius began wailing and Toby started to say something over the din when Draco slammed his fist on the table. “That is enough!”
The room fell silent. “Mrs. Cowell, I gave your daughter that mark, and she is not a hussy. Toby, take Scorpius and Teddy into the parlour. Liz, I need to speak with you privately, if I may.”
Toby gave a whoop. “Mum, he's going to ask you to marry him! Are you going to say yes, please?”
Bertie burst into tears and Andromeda looked stunned. Liz folded her serviette primly and sat it beside her plate, her hands shaking as she did so. Draco noted the dangerous gleam in her eye as she said, “Tobias Reginald Cowell, you need to do as your uncle said. We will talk about your disobedience later.”
The three boys slunk out of the room, Toby with a subdued, “Yes, Mum.”
“Now, Drake, what were you going to ask?” Liz stared straight ahead, her eyes cast down. “I know it can't be what Toby just said.”
“And why couldn't it be? Jesus, Liz, we've known each other for the last five years, last night was pretty damned perfect, and I love you. Why couldn't I ask you to marry me? Today. Right now.” Draco blinked. He had not known the words would spill out of his mouth, until he said them.
Liz looked down at her plate, her voice muffled and lifeless as she asked, “Was that what you were going to talk to me about?”
Mrs. Cowell's sobs took on a hiccoughing quality as Draco answered, “Well, yes. I mean I wanted to wait until I had a ring and could do it properly, but Toby wanted me to do it today and then your mother was... and well... will you Liz? Marry me, I mean? I don't want to risk losing you. I don't think I could stand it.”
“Oh.” Liz stood, lifting a tear-streaked face to his. “I thought you were going to ask if we could see your father today.”
“Well, that too, but... Oh hell, Liz, just forget I said anything.” Draco smoothed a hand over his hair. “It seems I always bollocks thing up with you.”
“Yes.” Liz's voice was uncharacteristically soft as she spoke.
“She said yes, but I don't know what about.” Andromeda leaned forward, asking Bertie, “Do you understand anything that's going on?”
Over her mother's wailed negative Liz said tartly, “Yes, you always bollocks things up. Yes, we can go see your father. And, yes, I will marry you if you really mean it.”
“That has got to be the worst proposal I've ever heard,” Andromeda said. “And that's even after Dora broke a tooth on the ring that her husband put in her pudding.”
Draco scowled at his aunt before he gathered Liz to him. He whispered in her ear. “Yeah, kid I really do mean it.”
Andromeda was tidying up in the kitchen after all the gifts had been opened. Liz rose to help, but Andromeda refused. “No dear, you're a guest, just enjoy yourself.”
Draco, who had been alternating between euphoria and utter terror, kissed Liz on the brow and excused himself. He followed his Aunt who had several Cleansing Charms going on various pots, but had all the china and crystal piled up next to the sink, washing each piece by hand. Draco stood next to her, looking down on her greying hair as he took a soapy plate from her. “I think I owe you an apology for ruining dinner.”
“No, Draco, you just kept up the Black family tradition,” his aunt grimaced. “Are you sure about marrying her? It seemed like you were under a little pressure.”
“You don't say,” Draco laughed. “But, yes, I am sure. I wouldn't know what to do without her in my life.”
“You two suit each other,” Andromeda observed as if surprised. She paused in her chore, letting her hands fall into the soapy dishwater. “What will your parents say?”
“My parents are in Azkaban for the rest of their lives, Aunt. Given the choices they made, I don't think they have much right to have a say in my decisions,” Draco said heavily. His aunt handed him another plate and he cast a Drying Charm and set it to the side. “I am sorry about what my mother and Aunt Bella did to your family. I never really talked to Nymphadora, but Lupin seemed a good sort.”
“He was a werewolf, Draco, how good a sort is that?” His aunt frowned. “That wasn't charitable of me. He adored my daughter and his son, and to be honest, he reminded me a little of my late husband.”
They continued the chore set before them in companionable silence. Andromeda handed him the last crystal goblet and watched as he cast another Drying Charm on it. “I have something I want to give you. Just wait in here and I'll go fetch it.”
She returned moments later with a small jewellery box gilded with the Black family crest. “Harry Potter gave this to me a few years ago. He inherited the Black family's vault from my cousin, Sirius, along with the family home in London. He thought I might like to give it to Teddy, but to be honest, I don't have many fond memories of my family.”
Draco opened the ancient box carefully. In it lay a plain platinum band and a large diamond ring in an old-fashioned, square cut. Andromeda said, “It belonged to Phineas Nigellus' second wife. She was Muggle-born. I can't think of a person it would suit better than your Liz.”
“I don't know what to say,” Draco managed. “’Thank you’ doesn't seem adequate.”
Andromeda put her arm around his waist. “Just make her happy, Draco. That will be thanks enough.”
“I'll try,” Draco said, hugging his Aunt shyly. “But now I've got some mistletoe to make a grand gesture under.”
AN: The idea of Phineas Nigellus having a Muggleborn wife came from Kerichi's fantastic story, Paint it Black posted on fanfiction.net. If you get a chance, check it out.
Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think, review.