Weft of Power, Warp of Blood: A Tapestry of Desire

Chapter Twenty - Two
Nice Girls Walking in the Dark with Strange Men


While a part of her brain listened to the Minister of Magic exclaim, “Mr. Sturgis Podmore, come claim your prize! These lovely golden goblets anonymously donated to the annual Wizard’s Ball, benefiting St. Mungo’s!” Kiaya wondered what would happen if she stood up on one of the card tables in the corner of the ballroom and shouted, “No, I’m not a pureblooded broodmare, nor will I be your mistress! Basilton didn’t get a piece and neither will you!” to the four men that crowded around her. They were trying to chat her up and look down the bodice of the gorgeous sage green silk dress she wore.

Thankfully, the pearl-studded dress clung where it should, courtesy of a minor Sticking Charm added by the proprietor of Three Flowers. Professor McGonagall had sent her there when Kiaya, in a panic, had confessed that she owned nothing more than black work robes, some Muggle everyday clothes and her old school uniform. Kiaya giggled at the thought of showing up to the ball in her old Gryffindor tie and knee socks. Of course, the man on her right thought she was giggling at the terribly unamusing Mudblood joke he was telling. Deliberately, Kiaya angled her body away from him, effectively cutting off the rest of his punchline. The man on the left – the blond, asked her to dance; the sixth such invitation since she’d made it through the excruciating line-up in the foyer forty-five minutes ago.

“No, thank you; I’m a bit tired. It’s been such a long day. You seem to know all about what I do, tell me about yourself,” she murmured for the sixth time and looked to Professor McGonagall for succor. It was a line that her all-too-understanding mother had told her to use if she found herself feeling uncomfortable. McGonagall returned an evaluating glance at the men then gave Kiaya an amused smile and continued her conversation with Professor Vector. Kiaya sighed internally and encouraged the men to pontificate about themselves while she studied the room and tried to blend into the marble column behind her. The enchanted roses climbing the column turned a subtle salmon, complimenting the sage of her dress beautifully. The jokester wandered off looking for more receptive prey, clearly tired of looking at the single small freckle on the back of her shoulder.

Now she knew why Mr. Basilton always instructed her to bin the gilt-edged invitations he received. The events were simply painful. The music was a bit too loud, though the instruments were interesting. They played themselves, with different bursts of colored lights being emitted from each one when different notes were played. A conductor stood in front of the quartet of floating instruments, instructing each with waves of two wands. The canapés, served by house elves wearing formal Ministry tea-towels, were lovely to look at and had a different taste with each bite, but all of them had an aftertaste of sawdust.

Thomas, a Ministry secretary; Eduard, a cousin of the McNairs; and Flavius, a Ministry undertaker crowded just a bit closer than the shy Kiaya was comfortable with. With a claustrophobic squeak, Kiaya slipped to the side of the column, the stiff dupioni of her dress rustling with her movement. Trying to keep her voice steady, Kiaya said, “Excuse me please, gentlemen, I need to go to the little witches room.”

Flavius – or was it Thomas – took her arm helpfully, “Let me escort you, Miss Roundtree.”

She wriggled out of his grasp with a forced laugh, “No thank you, really, there are certain things a girl just has to do alone. This is one of them.” With a tight smile, Kiaya escaped their pawing eyes toward the ladies antechamber archway. One of the many tiny, glowing fairies fluttering through the center of the room passed by one of the many floating prisms; Kiaya walked through the flash of rainbow it created without stopping to admire it.

Several pairs of eyes watched as she flitted along the edge of the lower dance floor. Ebony eyes looked up from Mrs. Parkinson’s pug face to see the girl in green brush past a turbaned matron. Mentally, he sneered. Probably going to freshen her lipstick so some rich old man will kiss it off her again.

Wizened brown eyes watched one of her chicks escape for some of privacy that the ball hadn’t afforded her. She had been amused by the splash the young girl had made, but saw in the stiff way that she held herself that shy, young Miss Roundtree was close to the end of her tether. She vowed that she’d keep a closer eye on the girl.

A pair of slate-gray eyes had been watching the newest angel in the social scene for almost an hour– lusting for the woman-child in green. Avaricious desires for depraved sex and absolute ownership crossed those eyes but they were masked with urbane laughter and good breeding.

Bright blue eyes, hidden behind crescent shaped glasses, watched them all, making mental notes to later pour into a Pensieve.

Kiaya walked into the ladies room and noted that all but one of the many cubicles were occupied by gossiping witches. While trying to maneuver her skirts, she eavesdropped and soon realized whom they were discussing.

Catty non-whispers played one upmanship with brazen laughter and hissing. “Well, now we know that Flowering Jasmine uses Sticking Charms in her dresses. There’s certainly nothing else holding the top of the gown up.” “Well, she’s pretty enough to make up for it, though she looks like another Malfoy bastard.”
“Well, you know how old Octavius was – she just might be.” “She doesn’t look old enough to know what to do with a man, much less suck him out of his fortune.” “I think you bopped the Bundimun when you said ‘suck’.” “Did you see that dress, Harza? Could it be any more dull? Where’s the color?” “Couldn’t she at least afford some decent jewelry with everything that old man gave her?” The Cinderella feeling that had resurged when Kiaya had put on her new dress swirled away in a whirlpool of self– consciousness. She blushed and once again wished she hadn’t come. Cubicle doors slammed and water ran. Drying spells were muttered and lipstick was freshened. She sat, frozen in horror. “Pretty obvious what she did for Basilton. But look what she got away with – you just have to give her credit for that.” “Indeed - she is still young. I wonder if she’ll be satisfied with Basilton’s money or if she’s going to go on the hunt again.” The women cackled and one asked, “Would you be?” The cackling grew more raucous. “What’s she got her eyes on now, do you think?” “She can’t really have gone up to Hogwarts to TEACH, now can she?” A chorus of, “You don’t think…” and “Not Dumbledore?” was the response. “Who else do you know up there that’s old and rich?” “But Alina, he’s a loony! The Daily Prophet is full of stories these days about how crazy he really is!” A voice interrupted her, “When you’re that powerful and that wealthy, it isn’t crazy, it’s eccentric – get it right, Beatrice.” They howled in sadistic glee. “Maybe she’ll go for Severus Snape, instead? I hear she’s actually going to be teaching potions, too.” “Hmm, not a bad catch, if she can wait until he’s forty to get a piece of that fortune.” “But he’s so nasty it might be difficult to wait until the old man’s money is freed up from the estate.” There were more flushing sounds and then running water. “That one isn’t an old man, though. From what I heard, he’s VERY healthy in every way.” Their voices lowered to gossipy whispers punctuated by “Really?” and “Oh my…” and even a “Well, you know what they say about a wizard’s nose…” Cackles greeted that one. Another voice chimed in, “Well, if she’s just in for a blazing affair, why doesn’t she just go for Malfoy?” “But what about Narcissa?” “What about her?” was the brutal reply. “Lucius Malfoy is a god in bed, or so I’ve heard, and she introduces him to half of his lovers.” “I heard he’s a bit rough but compensates well when he’s done.” “He’s got enough money to make it worthwhile, if only for the presents one can earn – though from what I hear, what’s under those robes is present enough.” “And how do you know all of this, Miss? Personal experience?” “Oh, no. A little bird told me about her weekend a couple of months ago…” she trailed off. “A bird? Not Wren?” “Oh yes, Wren…” The women herded out the door, apparently having found a new victim.

Quickly, Kiaya finished in the ladies room and left. At the archway, she considered going back into the throng or braving the terrace, where she saw the beginnings of a firecrab light show through a window. There were fewer people outside and it was darker, perhaps no one would notice someone as short as she was, if she stayed off to the side.

Lucius Malfoy ignored the discussions on investments and Quidditch that his cronies were carrying on around him. He watched the woman in green sneak out the open French doors. Grasping his cane as he turned away from the group, he muttered his excuses and followed the woman to a chorus of sniggers and chants of “Good luck on the hunt.” Carelessly his eyes glanced toward the ceiling, where one of his obscure cousins was having a duty dance with his wife. Narcissa did look lovely as she danced the Linnea, tracing the inlaid golden lines in the ceiling-cum-upper dance floor. Her formal dips and swirls matched the movements of the dancers on the lower ballroom floor – she was, of course, an accomplished dancer. Her black velvet robes looked stunningly contrasted with the white marble under her feet and the diamonds at her throat and wrists sparkled attractively. She was a beautiful woman and he did love her, but her skittish flinching from him was growing tiresome. Perhaps it was time for another lesson in wifely deportment – and a bauble or two combined with some sappy nonsense to make her feel good. The little blonde outside would be a nice candidate for a long-term tumble, though, if she had the right breeding. Knowing Basilton’s habits and tastes, she did.

Malfoy made his way to the end of the room, stopping when required, to shake hands and murmur greetings, though always continuing his momentum. The only pause he willingly made was for Sturgis Podmore who was standing in front of the wall of beverages pouring from the marble like many brightly colored waterfalls. Quick congratulations were given on his winning the goblets. Malfoy graciously filled one of the goblets with wine for the other man and urged Podmore to a toast, using a crystal glass from a nearby table.

“To your health, Mr. Podmore and congratulations on your lovely prize.”

Looking suspicious but civil, the Order of the Phoenix member drank deeply. His eyes glazed over.

Malfoy spoke quietly, so only Podmore could hear him, “Mr. Podmore, I am going to visit your office in the Ministry soon. When I arrive, you won’t remember that I’ve come, you will not discuss my visit with anyone, you won’t remember what I will tell you, but you will obey my every word. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Have a lovely evening, Podmore. Congratulations again. By the way, you should find a safe place for those cups instead of carrying them around.” Malfoy walked away, making sure that the end of his cane struck Podmore in the knee, making him trip, spilling the rest of the wine and waking him from the trance.

The evening’s duty done, Malfoy concentrated on something far more pleasant and walked outside looking for the woman. She stood on the corner of the terrace, apart from the people crowded cautiously around a pair of rhododendron-sized firecrabs, watching as the trundling beasts shot bursts of flames in time with the music. Curls and lines of fire reflected off their glossy red and blue shells and warmed the moonlit evening; Lucius casually approached the woman.

“You should be inside dancing, you’re far too lovely to be outside in the dark,” he said. It was a line he’d used before but it always got a response.

Eyes wide, Kiaya stared at him, “No, thank you. I don’t dance,” she said. The faint trembling in her voice gave away her nervousness.

“Why is that, m’dear?” He tried to set her at ease but enjoyed the flutter of nervousness he saw. Her blush was delicate – the girl really was lovely. Kudos to Basilton, Malfoy thought.

She murmured, “I don’t know how.”

“I see. That is a shame indeed. In that case, would you care to go for a stroll with me? There is a lovely rose garden that you may enjoy seeing,” he asked politely offering his arm.

The girl thought for a moment, starting up at his with wide green eyes. Lucius could see her mentally shrug. She looked wary but flattered, and she accepted. He offered his arm, thinking to himself that the girl had no idea of propriety – which could turn out to be a good thing, which she took automatically, and led her down the stairs into the garden.

From the duty dance in Herpo Jugson’s arms, Jasmine scanned the crowd, idly counting the number of dresses that she’d made – and knockoffs of her designs. It was easily one-third of the attendees. Every combination of wizard robes, gowns, suits and formal uniforms were worn, from the modern and sophisticated to threadbare antiques. Many wore creations from Vesta Malkin or the Hogsmead sweatshop, Gladrags, but Jasmine didn’t begrudge the business as much as her grandmother did. She’d been staying up late for a month working on last minute commissions. It kept her so busy that she wasn’t thinking about Sirius all day long. Except for now, she sighed. It wasn’t a dance with the Flowering Jasmine-clad suspected Death Eater Jugson that she wanted, but Sirius. She barely knew him but … somehow she did. Mentally, she shook her head- she needed a nice male distraction!

One presented himself at the moment the music changed from the Linnea to a snappy Weird Sisters cover. Just as Jugson was escorting Jasmine back to her friends, Emily Eddelson’s brother, Darian, stepped in front of them.

“Jasmine Swan, I thought I recognized that glorious mane,” he said with an ingratiating grin so patently false that Jasmine giggled.

Still politely holding Jugson’s arm, she wrapped one arm around the young man’s neck and squeezed in a hard hug. “Glorious mane, pshaw – what do you want, Darian?” she scoffed but immediately returned the grin with an amused one of her own.

“Just a chance to chat with the loveliest lady in the room,” he oozed and wetly kissed her hand. It was an old game of silly flirtation that they had been playing since Jasmine was a fourth year and he a sixth.

“Eeww!” She exclaimed and jerked her hand away, wiping it on her cobalt velvet skirt. He leered at the V-shaped neckline of her dress robes. The tightness of the bodice and a subtle charm lifted and pressed her breasts to show an impressive amount of cleavage accented by aquamarines embedded in the dress. She rolled her eyes and told him to keep his eyes to himself if he didn’t want them poked out.

They each burst into laughter. Jugson looked befuddled but determined to share the joke. Darian politely held out his hand to shake Jugson’s, who reluctantly disengaged his arm from Jasmine’s light touch. While their hands were clasped, Darian apologized, “Sorry, Jugson, I haven’t seen the lady in years. M’sister’s best friend, y’know. I’ve known little Jasmine since was in pigtails.”

“Enough about ‘little Jasmine’! You know I’m sensitive about my height.”

Darian snorted, “As sensitive as a manticore.” He looked at the other man again, “You don’t mind if I whisk the lady away, d’you?”

Jugson bowed himself away with the usual pleasantries but asking for an appointment with Jasmine later in the week to make use of her dynamagus skills.

“Of course, Mr. Jugson, though either of the Ministry ladies would be happy to help you – and they charge a lot less then I do,” she replied, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

“I can never find time to get an appointment with one of them. I’d rather you did it.” When she agreed on a time, he bowed again and made his way off.

Jasmine smile her relief, “Thank you, darling,” she said and rose on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek, deliberately leaving lip prints which he scrubbed at good naturedly. “I really don’t like that one, even if he is wearing my robes.”

“Why not, love?” said Darian as he tucked her hand under his arm and slowly leading her in a promenade down the side of the dance floor.

She looked up into Darian’s familiar brown eyes, seeing Emily reflected in them. Instantly feeling comfortable, she stepped closer to him, the velvet of her skirt catching on the velvet of his crimson dress robes.

“Just nasty rumors and a general feeling of ill will towards men these days,” she said.

“Nasty rumors?” he prodded, “Do tell, darling – and what’s this about man hating? You haven’t gone m’sister’s way, have you?” He gave her a knowing look.

Jasmine giggled and flushed. She tapped his wrist playfully. “It’d be none of your concern if I did, Darian Eddelson! Such a typical male, wondering about someone else’s sex life. Shame on you!” she laughed.

He looked properly chastened before mockingly mumbling a halfhearted apology and leading her onto the terrace. She didn’t mind. The ballroom was getting too warm, too crowded and too loud.

“Tell me all about those nasty rumors. You know I live for gossip,” he demanded, tugging his black lace-edged sleeve straight.

“Just the same ones that surround most wizards of a certain age,” she said meaningfully.

“Ah, those rumors,” he said, leading her down the terrace steps. They passed the ubiquitous firecrab light show and didn’t bother to stop, having seen several of them at similar events. “You really think he’s one of them?”

“Rumors are rumors, you know.”

“Indeed I do, love. I always thought he was a reasonably intelligent chap, though. Tell me, have you seen the topiary garden since Fudge had it redone?”

“No, I haven’t – I haven’t been here since the last ball,” she said.

“Join me, then,” he invited, kissing her hand. He took a moment to smell the perfume at the base of her wrist before speaking again. “There’s a bench the artist in you absolutely must see! It’s all done in mosaic tiles that rearrange themselves into different pictures whenever someone stands up from it. Someone’s cast a Pillowing Charm so it’s the perfect place to sit and watch the animals move.” Without hesitation, she agreed and they wandered out into the Minister’s expansive gardens.

“You’re taking a great risk, walking alone with a man you haven’t been properly introduced to.” The gravel of the garden path crunched under their feet.

“Am I? Shall we go back and find someone to do the deed or is it too late and I’ll be ruined anyway?”

“I don’t think so. An informal introduction should do.” He stopped walking and turned her to face her. “Lucius Malfoy, at your service.” He bowed and kissed her hand. Even knowing his reputation, Kiaya was charmed.

She dropped into an impromptu curtsy, “Kiaya Roundtree. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Malfoy.”

“And you, Miss Roundtree,” he said, resuming their pace. “I’m not a complete stranger, actually. I knew Basilton rather well.” His voice lowered intimately as the lights of the party grew dimmer. To compensate, she drew closer. “He and my father were good friends.”

“Really, I didn’t know much about his past. He was a wonderful teacher but I don’t know much about his life beyond what happened on a day to day basis.”

Lucius smiled and said “I don’t know much either, but I do remember him in our home – the one in Wiltshire, though I did see him in our cottage in the South of France at least once. I believe they were both members of the same, “Lucius paused and smiled benignly, “charitable organizations.”

“That’s nice to know, thank you. What charity was it? I don’t recall seeing any letters from anything he donated to in the last several years.” Her voice turned the statement into a question, inviting him to tell her more about Basilton. “I’m sure he would want me to keep up with something like that,” she answered, glad to finally meet someone who wanted to discuss Basilton in a non-gossipy way.

“No, I don’t remember the name, though I believe it was something to do with... Muggle study and relations.” A coy smile quirked on one side of his face.

“Oh, interesting. Mr. Basilton didn’t really have anything to do with Muggles, as I recall. He was a typical wizard. I didn’t know that he knew much of anything about them.” To be honest, neither did she, but if Basilton had wanted wizards to learn more, then she would. It was the least she could do for him.

“Quite some time ago, he was very interested in them. Though certainly not recently, from my recollection,” said Lucius. He tucked her arm closer and to murmur, “Tell me, are you married or involved with someone that might object to you walking with me?”

“Oh no, neither one. Might your wife object, though? I’m sorry, perhaps I shouldn’t have come out? I don’t want you to have a problem, even if it is just a chat.” Perhaps this was a bad idea. Regardless of rumors, the man was married and she really wasn’t all that interested in being labeled as even more of a bad girl just because of some catty gossip.

“No, not at all. She’s secure enough in our marriage to know that I would never do anything to... harm her. I do hope you’re not regretting our walk?”

Kiaya fumbled and told a polite social lie. The walk would be quick and he had known Mr. Basilton, after all. “No, not at all. It’s nice to chat with one of Mr. Basilton’s friends. I haven’t really had the chance to talk to much of anyone since it all happened.”

“I understand, dear. Tell me, why are you not involved with some handsome young man?”

“Well, I never really had time for such things between school and study and home. I was always exhausted by the time my day was done. I can’t imagine trying to fit dating into all of that, too,” she said, rather embarrassed but not knowing why.

“Surely Basilton let you out once in awhile?” he probed.

“Certainly not! Doing anything but research was considered frivolous. He never did allow silliness – well, much of it. He was like mother bear, never letting me out of his sight.” She laughed.

He delicately posed the question, “Were you and he…?”

Kiaya blinked, confused. “Were we what?”

“Lovers?” Lucius made the word sound like a caress– and an invitation.

Having been lured into comfort by the friendly chat, she now looked shocked and laughed uncomfortably “No! Absolutely not, though I’ve heard that people are thinking that, aren't they?”

He took her hand smoothly and kissed in apology, saying “To be honest, it has been a topic of gossip but you may be certain that I’ll quash it immediately. After meeting you I can see that there was nothing like that happening.

“I’ve heard the gossip. All of it,” she sighed and peeked up at him through her lashes. He seemed unperturbed so she decided not to mention the latest rumors she'd heard. “I’ve discovered that I really dislike that kind of attention.”

“I do understand the feeling, being the victim of a great deal of it myself. I consider it to be a part of who I am, Miss Roundtree. It isn’t personal. Just as it isn’t personal with you, I’m sure.”

“It certainly sounds personal.”

“It isn’t, trust me,” he murmured. “To many, you are but Fortescue’s flavor of the month. To those that matter, though, thoughts of you last a great deal longer than that.” Still holding her hand, he turned it over and pressed a kiss to her palm. He said “Your scent is beautiful, what is it?”

She bit the inside of her lip and resisted the urge to tug her hand away. “Oh, just a little something that I whipped up in my little cauldron. Would you like me to make some for your wife? I’d be happy to.”

Lucius nuzzled her wrist, “No thank you. It’s here, but where else do you put this sweet scent?”

She blushed in the dark, hoping the moonlight concealed it, “Er, well, I put it in my bath if I’m not going to be brewing. I can’t if I’m working, of course. It’s a combination of flower oils, really. The top note is the sampaguita flower – which comes from the Philippines, that’s the sweetness. It’s also got a bit of vanilla and cinnamon in it, as well as the smallest bit of black pepper oil and musk. I put it in a sugarcane alcohol base then distill the lot of it.” She walked forward blindly, slipping her hand from his grip. “I don’t normally wear perfume. You see, working with potions, I’ve got to have a really good sense of smell and perfume interferes with it. When I get home, I’ll have to scrub it all off then use a Cleansing Charm to make sure it’s all gone.” She took a breath, realizing that she was rambling, but had no idea how to get herself out of the situation that she was apparently in– and had no idea how she got into it other than her own folly.

He smiled indulgently and said, “It’s not only the scent that is lovely, Miss Roundtree, it is the lady wearing it.”

Flustered, Kiaya muttered her thanks.

They reached the center of the garden where there was a large Shepherd’s Path labyrinth. The circular, maze-like trail was raised with trenches on each side filled with pebbles and some kind of stone plant shaped sculptures. She scooped one of the small pebbles up and held it to the moonlight. It gleamed purple– the trenches were filled with tumbled amethysts at the base of the small plants. She was sure the grass under her feet would be a brilliant emerald green in the daytime.

“Would you care to walk the labyrinth with me?” asked Lucius.

Kiaya uncomfortably accepted and commented that there was a potion that required stirring in a similar pattern. “It’s the Serenity Serum, it’s calming for both the Potions Master and the patient.”

“Surely you are as serene as you are lovely? I can’t imagine you needing something like that when there are so many other ways to relax.”

“Oh no, I’m a bit of a whirl these days, with keeping Mr. Basilton’s shop open and starting up at Hogwarts,” she said and gulped.

“Walk with me, then, to find a bit of peace at the center,” he commanded and set forth onto the path. Her hand trapped under his, she followed, her heels sinking into the soft grass with each step.

Inside, Dumbledore checked the watch hanging from a loop on his robes. “You’re right, Minerva. They have been gone long time. As repugnant as it sounds, Lucius may have marked her as the next Malfoy Mistress.” He looked out the window at where they had been standing on the terrace and then walked down the stairs. He spoke quietly so the others standing around wouldn’t hear.

“What should we do, Albus?” she asked, worried. It was only when she was distressed did Minerva McGonagall ever drop the formality of his title.

Dumbledore replied in an undertone, “There isn’t much that we can do. Miss Roundtree is a grown woman. That being said, however, I do think that it would be wise if Severus went to get her. Spending time with Malfoy could put her and us, in a great deal of danger.”

Minerva nodded and summoned one of the many mynah birds used at such events to relay messages between guests. “Go to Severus Snape and say ‘Professor Snape, please join Professors Dumbledore and MacGonagall’,” she instructed the bird.

The bird flapped away to relay the message to Snape, who was standing in among a group of young, wealthy purebloods. He left the group to apparent ribbing and wended his way around the ballroom.

She hurried to Snape and pulled him aside before he could reach Dumbledore. “Miss Roundtree has been out walking with Lucius Malfoy for a long time.”

“What business is it of mine, Minerva? She’s a grown woman. If she wants to be the plaything of a rich man, who am I to stop her?” Snape sneered.

“She is an innocent, Severus. He is a conniving lecher and you well know it.”

He looked derisively at her. “She’s Basilton’s twenty-six-year-old, unmarried, unrelated heir. Are you sure she’s all that innocent?”

She grumbled at him and instructed him to go get her. “She shouldn’t be with Malfoy at any rate - he’s too dangerous. He could be putting her under the Imperious Curse right now and instructing her to harm Professor Dumbledore! You know the kinds of risks there are letting Malfoy have access to any of the Hogwarts staff. You, yourself have told us about their plans,” she hissed.

He scanned the crowd. “Do try to be a bit more discreet, Professor. I have no wish to be killed at this early stage of the game because you were speaking a bit too loudly,” he growled. With that, he agreed and strode out of the ballroom. He knew from experience where Lucius would begin his seduction of the woman – in the labyrinth in the center of the garden. The narrow path, full moon and Lucius’ charm worked wonders on unsuspecting innocents and world-weary socialites alike.

“All gossip and silliness aside, you really did grow up to be a beautiful woman, Jasmine,” said Darian as they moved away from the din of the party.

She laughed, “No, I’m still just a pasty-pale redhead with too much hair, too much hip and not nearly enough leg – though I shall be flattered by your chivalrous attentions, kind sir.”

“Oh, I think your legs are long enough and, as I recall, they are lovely. Does noticing your legs rule me out of the chivalrous knight club?” he smiled warmly down at her, gently teasing.

She grinned, “Not at all! Who would have thought that Emily’s dumb big brother would be so charming once he was done being a stereotypical Slytherin berk?” She trailed her fingers through the water of a gurgling fountain as they passed.

“Hey now, no deriding the old school house.” He plucked a handkerchief from his sleeve to dry her fingers, keeping hold of her hand when he was done. “That old hat did it. I didn’t request to be there.”

“If you say so, darling. You were still pretty sneaky back then,” she countered.

“What did I do? I can’t remember doing anything particularly sneaky,” he defended himself virtuously. “You on the other hand…”

“Oh no?” she interrupted. “How about spying on us when we went skinny dipping at your house before our seventh year?”

“Well, that wasn’t a Slytherin thing, that was just being a guy looking at pretty, nude girls!”

“Oh, you…”

They wandered to what seemed like the deepest part of the garden. Only a single glowing bubble provided enough light to mark their path. She started to ask if he really knew where he was going when he stepped into a break in the hedge, leading her into a garden room with tall topiaries. The light bubble followed them, giving a shadow filled light to the area.

“You know, I’d sacrifice my arm to do it again,” he said, holding her close.

“Do what?” A tingle ran up her spine.

“To watch you swim naked in the lake behind my house.”