"Don't roll your eyes at me, Lily Potter; hold still, and let me put this on," Lavender Brown ordered, bright blue eyes staring me down with a fierce determination. It was no wonder she'd been a Gryffindor, I thought. She could glare a dragon into a petticoat if she set her mind to it.
Where I sat atop the bathroom counter, half my face already covered in an assortment of makeup, I let out a huff.
"I don't need lipstick, Lav."
"No, but you'll look damn good with it on. Now hold still, or your cupid's bow is going to look all wonky."
"My what?" I asked. It only earned me one last warning look from Lavender, and I sighed before giving in. Slumping forward, I held still as she lifted the chosen color to my lip– a deep, rich wine color that Lavender had at least twenty different versions of– to my lips and carefully began applying it to my skin.
"Now, you are to hold absolutely still until I set it all– Merlin forbid you smudge it. Don't roll your eyes at me!" Lavender clucked again, gently tapping the underside of my chin in reprimand. Her smile turned fond as she liked at me though. "Not everyone gets to go to some fancy restaurant, in some fancy dress, with their gorgeous fiancé. Suck it up and live the dream."
"It might not be some fancy restaurant," I mumbled carefully around the Lavender makeup was applying. "Unless– do you know something I don't?"
Lavender's eyebrows rose as she shook her head. "Of course not, don't be ridiculous. You really think Malfoy would trust me with his secrets?"
"If he knows you're the one dressing me... perhaps."
Lavender's grin turned wicked. "I promised not tell you."
"Then don't," I told her. Draco had been stepping around for me days after telling me the addition to my Christmas present– a special trip for New Year's Eve. A light had glimmered in his eyes as he told me, paired with a mischievous smirk as he announced that it was to be a surprise. I'd try to pull the answer out of him multiple times, in varying ways– each had failed.
And I didn't have the heart to ruin the surprise now that it was so close to revealing itself.
I had hit him though when I had realized he had gotten me more than the camera, and had only agreed to go when he promised the trip would be just as enjoyable for him. It was more a mutual Christmas gift, he'd said; that, at least I had been able to accept– And wait in pained silence to figure out exactly where we would be going. I had thought about badgering Blaise or Theo for answers, but both Slytherins kept secrets better than most I had met, and took too much enjoyment in me not knowing to even want to tell me.
So on December thirty-first, I let Lavender dress me up, and I waited.
Draco had only given me a few hints– we were leaving at eight, we were having dinner, and to dress nicely.
The last of the hints, he had clearly passed on to Lavender. The dress she fit me in was pale silver with just the barest tone of lavender to it, its shiny, silky fabric falling past my feet. Lavender had babbled on about the design as she had slipped me into it, saying something about its nineteen-thirties inspiration or how modern the shoulder straps were for the time.
Heels, Lavender had also told me. I would be wearing heels.
And at seven-thirty I stepped out into the hallway and into view of the large mirror Lavender eagerly held up.
"He's not gonna be able to keep his hands off you!" She squealed, not looking the slightest bit bothered when I flinched at the volume of her voice.
Admittedly, though, I almost had to agree.
"You're going to be my stylist forever," I sighed to my friend, letting my hands slip down the silky material of the dress. It rippled nicely with the movement, flowing where it clung to every curve and dipping in the most flattering of places. When I had first stopped using my polyjuice potion so many months ago, part of me had mourned the loss of Alecia Longbottom's decidedly flat-chest; now, though, I really couldn't bring myself to mind.
"This is hardly going to be fair," I murmured, twisting around to peer carefully at my back– I generally avoided looking at it, at the long, thick scars that still ran down it– but the dress covered most of the damage. When I turned back to her, Lavender was smirking.
"Tell him if he rips that dress off of you, I expect he pay me back for it."
"Lavender," I hissed, skin blooming into a pink far deeper than the blush she had put on my cheeks. "That's not– we're not–"
Her eyebrow arched. "Not what? Don't tell me you're a virgin. Not that it's wrong or anything, but I just would've thought that that had happened a lon–"
"Lavender!" My voice was a squeak. She shut her mouth, and I took a moment to inhale deeply, wishing the pink out of my cheeks as I stared my friend down and said, "I'm not a... you know– not that that's any of your business– but we decided after we got engaged we wanted to try and wait... until after the wedding. For tradition, I guess."
"Ohhh." Lavender nodded, her pink lips pursed. Then– "15 galleons says you don't make it to July."
"Lavender!"
"I'm just teasing you!" She laughed, face breaking out into a smile. "I think it's sweet– traditions can be so overlooked, it's nice to see them embraced for once. Though now I do feel a little bad about how sexy you look, but... he'll deal, yeah?"
I didn't get to answer, cut off by the sound of the fireplace lighting up with someone's arrival– most likely, Draco's.
"Potter?"
Lavender looked at me with a wink, tapping the mirror with her so it shrunk down.
"Go knock him dead," she told me with a grin, and I rolled my eyes. I made sure to lift up the skirt of my dress to avoid tripping as I walked, the heels I wore pressing down along the carpeted hallway until I made it to the living room. He stood there, back to me and glancing out the window at the busy street before. I lingered where I stood, smiling a little at the suit he wore, well-cut and tailored specially for him. The image made my heart warm. Dropping my skirt so I could clasp my hands loosely in front of me, I gave a small cough, and he turned.
And froze.
Where they had just recovered from Lavender's teasing, my cheeks went pink again.
"You look..." Draco gave his head a small shake, grey eyes brilliant as they looked at me. "You look beautiful, Lily."
I grinned. "You think?"
He nodded. "Definitely."
On an impulse, I did a small twirl for him. "It's not too much?" I asked, knowing very well he wouldn't think so. And as predicted, he shook his head.
"It's perfect," he said, hand reaching out towards me, eyes taking a sweeping look over the gown in a way that had my heart skipping. I took his hand, stepping towards him as I did and grinning when he pulled me close, an arm wrapping around the small of my back. "Remind me to thank Brown later, but I believe we have a reservation to make."
"A reservation?" I raised an eyebrow. Draco nodded.
"For nine."
I frowned at him. "But it's barely even eight."
At that, he nodded, grey eyes shining. "You'll see," was all he said, releasing my back so I could stand properly. His hand reached for mine though, fingers lacing tightly together. "We do have to apparate, however."
Ugh. And I was in heels.
"Fine," I mumbled. His smile briefly turned apologetic, raising our twined fingers to his lips so he could kiss the back of my hand.
"I promise you it's worth it."
"If you insist," I sighed, though I couldn't contain my own sly grin as he his eyes trailed over me again. Perhaps Lavender had been right to worry over the dress. He let me go only so I could grab what Lavender had called a 'topper', a sheer, delicate sheet of fabric that had been charmed to keep me warm as I slipped it over my shoulders. It didn't eve fall to my waist, but it was better than the thin straps of my dress alone.
The apparition point was right outside the front door's steps, and hand-in-hand Draco lead me there, the cool night air chilling my neck. The streets weren't terribly crowded, so I had no qualms as Draco wrapped an arm around me, the other lifting to tuck a knuckle gently under my chin.
"Will you be alright?" He asked, genuine concerned flickering in his eyes. I only nodded, pressing closer, both for apparitions' sake as well my own pleasure. He must've seen it in my eyes, because he smirked and wrapped an arm around me. We disappeared in a loud crack, the tug inside my stomach nearly sending me off of my feet.
The travel seemed longer than usual, but no more than a thought and a half before we landed. I pressed my face into Draco's coat, thankful for the setting spray Lavender had insisted on applying to my face, and let out a shuddering breath.
Draco's hands came to rest on my arms.
"Lily," he murmured, voice close and warm by my ear, "look up."
I did so– first at his face, confusion coating my features before I realized what he meant and looked out.
First, I realized we were at the top level of a very, very high building.
Second, I realized what that building was.
"We're in Paris," I breathed, eyes wide as I took in the night sky and city lights that surrounded us. We stood on a balcony, and I risked a glance below to see the ground that was years below us, as well as the lower levels of the building we stood on.
The muggle levels of the building, I realized. My breath caught in my throat.
"In Paris, at the very top of the Eiffel Tower," I murmured in awe. Draco had the decency to look somewhat bashful under my surprised gaze when I finally turned my eyes back to him. He was grinning though, delight clear in his eyes.
"Welcome to L'oeil Du Magicien," he murmured, the words tingling softly down my spine– so I liked it when he spoke French. Good to know. He grinned at me roguishly as I quirked an eyebrow at him, placing my hands over my silk-covered hips.
"You brought me to Paris."
"Mm-hm."
"To the Eiffel Tower."
"Indeed."
"I thought you couldn't leave the country."
"I pulled a couple of strings."
"All for New Year's Eve?"
At that, he shrugged, and I shook my head at him in exasperation, at the absolute enjoyment that sparkled in his eyes.
"I was happy with just the camera, you know," I told him, even as he moved to link my arm with his. He lead me towards the doors of a restaurant that's insides appeared to be made of gold, glass and chandeliers. He shrugged.
"I know," he told me, and his eyes were full of mischief when he looked at me. "But the camera wouldn't have gotten you into that dress."
I stuck my tongue out at him. "Touché, Mr. Malfoy."
I stayed silent as he spoke with the Maître D' about our reservations, in a low murmur that had me both curious, and frustrated I had chosen Spanish as my language way back in high school. The man he spoke to had sparkling blue eyes of the kindest sort, and said something to me in French. I smiled back and shrugged helplessly. Arm in mine, Draco smiled.
"C'est ma fiancé," he murmured, the soft rumble sending a thrill down my spine. Draco's eyes lingered on me for a moment before rising back to the old man, "L'amour de ma vie."
"De beaux jeunes," the man trilled, features lighting up. "Nous vous donnerons notre meilleur."
I was completely in the dark about the conversation, but Draco seemed pleased, his smile soft as we were lead to our table. It was placed so it sat in a more secluded location of the restaurant, its view of the city just as brilliant as before.
On top of the table there was a bottle of already opened champagne, two flutes standing beside it and sparkling in the light cast from the chandeliers. The server said something to Draco, who only nodded in response before helping me into my seat, pushing my chair in gently before going to sit in his own. I watched him as he did, not breaking the stare even when he looked at me, apparently befuddled.
"What?"
I shook my head. Concern flit over his features, his hand reaching across the table to gold my own gently, thumb brushing over my fingers.
"Potter, what is it?"
"You..." I took a deep breath, willing my eyes to keep from watering as I looked at him. "Never in my wildest dreams– never even close– would I have imagined I would be spending New Year's, 1998, at the top of the Eiffel Tower... with my fiancé. And I just... I'm very grateful, Draco. I'm very lucky. And a little overwhelmed, but in a good way."
The concern was replaced with a smile, eyes warm as he looked at me. He removed his hand from mine to reach for the glass bottle, movements careful as he poured its contents into our glasses.
"Just wait till you see where I'm taking you for our honeymoon," he said, a slight purr to his words as he handed me my glass. By some grace, I didn't flush, and merely looked at him with an entertained smile.
"Is that a surprise too, then?"
He shrugged. "If you would like it to be."
I considered it. Then slowly, I nodded, and sipped from the champagne– and nearly moaned at the taste.
"I think," I said when I had my wits back about me, "that I don't mind not knowing. Though I would enjoy a hint."
His eyes shimmered. "Private," he decided after a moment, then turned to address the server when the wizard appeared once more, leaving me to ponder on my own. When he looked back to me, he smirked, and I took another sip of champagne to hide the flush on my cheeks.
_
"So why Paris?" I asked later, leaning back against the railing of the balcony– a little eerie, at first, but everything had been magically enforced and shielded besides. Falling wasn't even close to a concern. Where he stood beside me, sleeves pushed up, elbows resting on the railing– I'd no idea where his coat went– Draco shrugged, eyes peering out at the sights before him.
"Why not?" He replied, head tilting so he could grin at me, something roughish in his eyes. "You've never been. And the fireworks are beautiful, even if they're not wizards' creation. And the Tower has the best view. It made sense."
I shook my head at him, unable to resist my small grin. "You're an overachiever, you know that?"
"Perhaps," he said. I rolled my eyes, turning towards him to reach up and press my lips to his cheek. He smiled a little at the gesture, moving his fingers to wrap atop my own and twine them together gently. His hands were cool atop mine, a casualty of the cold winter air that clung to the railing. The air of the balcony restaurant, of course, had been charmed to stay warm.
His lifted our twined hands, pressing the back of mine to his lips. The engagement ring glittered in the light, and he smiled at it.
The next words stopped my heart.
"What if we got married now?" He asked me, an eyebrow raising with the question. "Tonight. Before the New Year."
"What?" The air had been knocked from my chest– not unpleasantly, I decided, but certainly in surprise. Draco turned fully towards me, his side still resting against the railing as he looked at me. The grey of his eyes was intense, tracing the lines of my cheeks, my lips, my eyes. He gave a small half smile.
"We don't have to," he said, his voice low and sweet, "And I still want a proper wedding. I still want to see you in a wedding dress, and to have a honeymoon, and to be properly, fully married in front of our family. But I also don't want to wait any longer to have my heart tied to yours in a way no one can deny. To at least know, even secretly, that you're my wife. And that I'm your husband."
"You want to elope before the wedding," I said slowly, to be absolutely sure of his intent, and his head dipped in a small confirming nod.
"We don't have to," he said again, and there was a vulnerability in his tone, disguised as casual nonchalance. His eyes tore away from mine, the breath flooding back into my chest as the intensity was directed out towards the view. I stared at him– the curve of his jaw, the faint, white scars that dotted over the side of his neck, the way his pale hair shimmered in the light. The way his eyes ducked down, but burned with a passion when they turned back to me. "Potter? What're you–"
I kissed him. I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him, fully, wholly, no sense of hesitation or fear in the movements. His arms wrapped tightly around my lower back, crushing me to him with no mind for the pressed fabric of his suit or the silk of my dress. When I lowered my mouth from his, saw his blown-wide grey eyes and the adoration they held, my heart sang.
"Where?" I whispered, leaning up on my toes to press my lips to his forehead, then his cheek. "I want nothing more than to be married to you, Draco Malfoy, whether it be in ten minutes or ten years– so name the place, and we'll go."
His lips found mine again, soft and reassuring. I thought he might never let go, never stop again until he pulled away and said with a soft smile, "Are you certain? I just– it's Paris, and neither of us are citizens, and it would be more symbolical than anything, but I–"
"I've never been so certain about anything in my life," I promised him, heart pounding. "I want this. I want you. I wanted you when we were fifteen, and you kissed me by the lake, and we were both terrified. I wanted you when we were sixteen, and everything was falling apart around us. I want us in seven months, and I want to be in a wedding dress, and I want to have all the official wedding things. But I also want us, here and now, in the middle of Paris, on New Year's Eve. Because that's how it's always been. It's always been us. And this feels right."
He looked like he might burst from the joy of it.
"Come on," he told me, and his fingers twined with mine as he pulled me from the ledge. We walked swiftly, making sure we had our things from the restaurant and stuffing them in my small, magic clutch before leaving for the streets of Paris. They were crowded, as expected on New Years, but it meant no one batted an eye at the young couple racing through the streets, looking back every so often to grin at each other.
I tried to memorize each every moment. The way Draco's hair fell in his eyes, bright with excitement as he explained to the wizard who had opened the doors to the wizarding equivalent of the City Hall our situation. The wizard listened carefully, nodding every now and then and glancing at me before a soft smile appeared.
"You are a Potter," he said, his accent soft around my name. "My daughter lives in your country, and fought in your war. I would be honored to do this for you."
I dipped my head gratefully, and gripped Draco's hand as we were allowed inside.
The ceremony was short, often in French, and fleeting– and in many ways, unofficial. We had no birth certificates, no proof of address or name, none of the normally required papers for an elopement. We also had to forgo many of the usual traditions– my name, for example, would remain Lily Potter until our ceremony in July, as long any other messy details better taken care of in our own country. The elderly witches who witnessed it had largely forgotten our names the second they were told. I was half-certain Draco had slipped the wizard a few galleons when I had been distracted by a piece of artwork.
But I didn't care.
The marriage certificate the wizard produced was binding, was, in it's own way, official,and my breath caught in my chest as I wrote my name down on it in the best handwriting I could muster while my fingers trembled so persistently. The certificate glowed under Draco's hand, under the last swoop of the Y before it shimmered and sealed, drying the ink while still fresh and making itself impermeable against those who might wish to destroy it. Gold magic glimmered around my fingers– not lasting, but just as final in it's own symbolic way. And then it happened.
As of December thirty-first, nineteen-ninety-eight, at eleven-eleven in the evening, I married Draco Malfoy.
I let out a deep breath, eyes bright as I looked at Draco. The wizard presiding over the ceremony said something in French that I didn't understand, but got the gist of when Draco stepped forward and kissed me soundly, hands tight around my waist and lips gentle but firm against my own. Even when he pulled away he pressed his forehead to mine, eyes closed and a soft smile tugging at his lips as he said, "my wife."
_
I didn't even want to know how he got us a hotel room so close to the Eiffel Tower on New Year's Eve. The place had been crowded enough as we walked in, but whatever Draco had said, murmured in hushed French, it had been enough to get us a room on the top floor, facing a different but similar view to the one we had enjoyed dinner by.
This was a little different than dinner, though.
I leant against the open window, letting the cool winter air kiss my nose and cheeks. The sky was bright, filled with the anticipation of fireworks and a new year.
Then I felt lips against my neck, pressing softly, gently, repeatedly upwards until they were just below my ear. It made me smile, my heart dancing inside my chest as I leant back against my husband, his arms wrapping around me. In the moonlight his skin was washed white, all save for the fading but ever-present tattoo that marred his left forearm.
We'd both long ago decided to stop worrying over it– whenever he'd taken to disparaging about it, I'd pulled him close and kissed him until he stopped.
"My wife," he murmured by my skin, and the words sent a gentle shiver up my spine that wasn't from the cold. "Ma femme."
"You know I don't understand French, right?" I asked quietly, just to tease him. He moved, tilting enough that I could see his eyes, the emotions that swirled inside them. His lips quirked just a little, a small smirk that barely held back the joy behind it.
"But you like it," he said knowingly, his voice low. His lips pressed to my shoulder again. "Ma meilleure moitié."
"I like it when I'm pretty sure you're complimenting me," I murmured, twisting carefully in his arms so my back was to the window and I could see him. The lights had been left off in the room, allowing the full lights of Paris to illuminate it. Crossed by shadows, patterned by light, Draco's eyes seemed to glow. "And maybe then some."
His smirk turned pleased, fingers slowly dripping down my waist, my hips, drawing invisible lines over the silk fabric. His chin ducked down, his voice soft by my ears, a soft rumble inside his chest and under my fingers.
I wasn't sure what he said, but the tone hinted at enough that I flushed.
"Not fair," I mumbled, eyes downcast. His tie had gone missing at some point, too– or he had slipped it off as we'd entered the room. I was willing to bet the latter. Draco made a soft scoffing sound.
"That dress isn't fair," he said back, lips pressing to my forehead, my temple, the top of my cheek. "Not in the slightest."
"You can take it up with Lavender," I told him with a small smile of my own, though it simpered as his lips moved, touching over places that tickled in sensitivity, his breath warm against my skin. His fingers had drifted, trailing soft circles over my lower back, then lower. My fingers knotted in the fabric of his shirt.
"Will do," he told me, looking much too pleased with himself. "But I believe I have some other matters to attend to first."
My smile was wicked, though it didn't live long before his lips found mine. Like the ones before it, it was soft, sweet, tasting sweetly of champagne we had had with dinner and dessert. Unlike the ones before it, we were hidden from prying eyes, and the advantage was taken quickly– my arms around his neck, fingers drifting through the pale blonde hair, while his hands moved lower, sweeping over the backs of my thighs before he lifted me up.
I gasped when the fabric of my dress ripped, too tight to keep up with the way my legs had wrapped around his hips. Draco just grinned.
"Magic," he reminded me with a purr, lips pressing gently to the underside of my jaw. A sigh slipped from my mouth, eyes nearly sliding close at the sensation, at the warmth that lingered from his body so close to mine, the distinct feeling of it pooling in my stomach.
"The window–" I started to say, cut off when his teeth nipped gently at my skin.
"I took care of it," he told me. "The room's enchanted every way possible to keep away prying eyes, listening ears. Why do you think I didn't pounce on you immediately?"
The idea of Draco pouncing on anything almost made me giggle. He offered me a sly grin, arms tightening briefly around me when he moved, and I had no uncertainties of where he was going. The white sheets were soft around me as he set me down at the edge of the bed, fingers moving down my legs as he slid to his knees in front of me, grey eyes shimmering. His fingers wrapped around the strap of my heel, unbuckling it before sliding it off. He repeated the motion with the other shoe, his movements soft against my skin, brushing by parts I didn't even know could be sensitive.
When I spoke, my voice was hoarse. "Draco."
He moved up and forward, capturing my lips with his in a swift movement. The sheets were gentle against my back as I fell onto them, my fingers twining themselves in the fabric of Draco's shirt, rucking it up, his hands slipping up my sides and–
Two knocks, at the room's door. Then, after a pause, another three.
Draco let out a small growl into my mouth that had my blood racing faster than the knocks had halted it. He pulled away, arms propping himself over me and his eyes dark as he said, "I'm going to go kill whoever that is." A hand ran over my cheek, brushing back a wisp of hair. "But then we're continuing this."
I could only nod. He moved back swiftly, running his fingers through his hair and straightening his shirt out as he went. He still looked distinctly ruffled though, something I took pride in as I watched him turn the corner into the small hallway that lead to the door. I heard it open, soft murmuring following it– even in French, it wasn't hard to figure out which voice was Draco's– and then the soft click of it shutting again.
When Draco turned the corner he looked dryly amused, and lifted up a shining green bottle.
"Complimentary champagne," he said, an eyebrow arching. "I figured I couldn't kill him if he brought such nice things."
"It might come off as a bit ungrateful," I agreed, a small smile playing on my lips. I sat up carefully, slowly, running my fingers through my hair– the curls Lavender had put it in surprisingly still intact. I'd have to thank her later. For now, I looked at my husband, and bit down on my lip. "You can put it on the counter for now. Unless you want it."
The eyebrow raised higher, but the light in his eyes, the smirk playing on his lips were playful. "You don't want any now?"
I shook my head. "I'd like to remember my wedding night as clearly as possible, thanks. It only happens– well, it normally only happens once. But I'd like to remember this one regardless of a second chance."
He set the champagne down on the counter on his way back to the bed. My heart caught in my throat as I watched him, as I reached a hand out to him. He took it, letting me pull him over me as I fell back amongst the sheets and pillows. His body was warm over mine, grey eyes shining in what little light crept into the room.
"Wife," he greeted quietly, hand stretching out as he twined my fingers with his against the sheets. I smiled at him, lifting my free hand up, stroking over his cheek. He leant into the touch slowly, moving to press his lips gently to the palm of my hand.
"Husband," I murmured, pleased when he smiled at me– not the smirk, though I adored that in its own time and place– but a smile that held only delight and happiness, the sort I had thought I may never see on him again. And beside it, tucked in the darker shades of his eyes and the way his pulse thudded against my skin, the sort of love that had my toes curling and my heart stuttering as it questioned what it could handle.
Enough, I thought as he kissed me, lips soft against my own. His fingers slipped from my own, gentle as they trailed down my arm and to the near-invisible zipper in the side of my dress, the soft sound of its pull earning a small smile on my lips as my fingers found the front of his shirt, surprisingly nimble for the amount of nerves that leapt in my stomach. Every bit of uncovered skin was meant with lips, sighs and moans escaping in between.
I loved him. Loved him enough that I could shatter with the strength of it. Loved him enough to know I'd go through every ache, every tear, every pain I'd experienced the past few years as long as I knew it would bring me back to him, to here, to now.
"Where's your head, Lily?" Draco asked, his body warm against mine, heart beating close to my own. I smiled, my fingers twining through his hair.
"Right here," I promised him, the sigh shuddering as it left my body, nerves dancing under my skin. Slowly I leant up, kissing him gently as I pulled him down to me and the white silk of the sheets.
_
I watched in a content daze as fireworks drifted over our room, the light pouring in from the windows. I wasn't sure how long they had been going on, or when they had even started, but they were absolutely beautiful across the Parisian sky line. The taste of champagne still swam in my mouth, mixing pleasantly with the oxytocin that swirled around my bones.
"Happy New Year," Draco murmured against my shoulder, lips pressing down gently on the skin there. I smiled and turned over towards where he lay beside me, sliding my arms around his neck as I stretched, soaking in the warmth that radiated from him, that still clung to the sheets around us.
"Happy New Year," I told him, ducking my head down to kiss him gently. "Mm. Husband."
"Wife," he said fondly, arms curving around my bare waist. I smiled, resting my head down on his chest and watching as green light bloomed over our skin, painting the moon-struck tones in color.
"I never want to leave," I whispered. Draco chuckled, the sound rumbling pleasantly through his chest. His fingers brushed through my hair, smoothing it out over my shoulders.
"Neither do I," he told me. "Perhaps we'll find a place here. A vacation spot. A getaway. Just for us."
Though he had said 'perhaps', knowing him, I had a very good feeling he already had a place in mind. I sighed, my smile fond as I looked at him, and drew my fingers slowly through his hair. "Overachiever," I mumbled. He shrugged beneath me, movements gentle.
"You weren't saying that twenty minutes ago," he told me, craning his neck to press his lips to my shoulder once more before slowly, carefully he rolled over, pressing his lips down to mine as his fingers ran down my spine.
In the background, I could hear the sound of fireworks lighting up the night sky, the grand celebration of a new start. New beginning. For everyone.
For us.
_
The morning, however unwelcome it was, still arrived in all its January glory. Even with heat magically captured inside the room, I could feel the cold creeping outside the windows, its frost shattered only by the sun that had elected to peek its head out for the morning's events. I woke up to its glow in my eyes, basking over sheets and skin in its own warm hello.
I also woke to the sound of gentle French and the front door shutting.
"Are you awake, love?" Draco murmured, and I pulled myself slowly up onto my elbows, lifting a hand to push the hair from my eyes. He stood in the doorway, dressed and leaning against the wall. He watched me with the look of someone completely satisfied with their current life situation. Beside him, a tray carrying two steaming mugs levitated.
"Unwillingly, but yes," I sighed, though my mood perked when the scent from the tray reached me, the rich warmth of it tickling my nose and making my mouth water. "You didn't," I said. He grinned, completely unabashed.
"It is your favorite way to wake up."
"One of my favorite ways," I corrected, enjoying the small arch of his eyebrow even as a mug floated over to me, his wand held discreetly between his fingers beside me having encouraged the movement. I took into my hands, warmth bubbling up against my fingers and inside my chest. "Is there peppermint in this?"
"Of course," he hummed, leaning away from the wall and coming over to sit on the edge of the queen-sized bed. The tray floated behind him, coming to rest carefully atop the covers between us, and I set my mug down on it beside his own untouched mug before I lunged for him, throwing my arms around his neck. His arms clasped around me, and I caught the hint of a grin on his lips before I kissed him.
"I love you," I told him when I pulled away, pressing my forehead to his. "So much, Draco."
"Your hot chocolate is going to get cold," he told me, grey eyes flitting over my face, arms warm against my bare skin. "But I love you too."
"Thank Merlin," I teased, unable to help my grin as I looked at him. "It would be rather awkward if you didn't."
He smiled, eyes brilliant in the sun's rays. "Indeed," he murmured, and leant up to peck my lips one before he let me go, and I sunk back down onto the sheets. "Considering I just married you, and all. It would be quite awkward."
The thrill of it shot through me, and I nodded even as I moved, tucking the sheets over my legs and comfortably around myself before settling against the headboard of the bed. I held my mug firmly between my fingers and arched an eyebrow at him. "You'll have to do it again too, I'm afraid."
"How dreadful," he said, but the smile on his lips told me he thought nothing was dreadful about the fact at all. "Though I'll say I look forward to the day when I can properly call you Lily Malfoy."
My joy was uncontainable, spreading across my face so quick my cheeks were sore with the movement. "Me too," I murmured, pressing down the emotion in my throat. Our marriage, as it was now, was real in every way that matter to us– mind, soul, heart. The document we had signed was our proof of loyalty to one another, to love and courage and everything that was important. Everything that made us, us.
But the classic details of a marriage ceremony, the traditional parts... Even French wizards had rules to follow, and marrying two wizards from a different country so suddenly and without all of the required paperwork was unheard of. So we would wait. We could wait, for all of that. To prove it to everyone else. But for now, last night... that had been between us. For us.
"Should we tell anyone?" I asked, the words slipping from my lips before I could clamp down on them. I lifted the mug up to my lips before anything else could slip out. Draco looked at me, brows furrowed for a moment before he shrugged.
"We could," he said. "Or we couldn't. But I... Perhaps I'm wrong for saying so, but this felt... close. Private. Too deep, for prying eyes. Just yet, anyway. Perhaps after July, when everything's settled, but for now... for now I'd like it to be you and me."
I nodded, relief flooding through my chest. "I was thinking the same," I admitted. "I want people to know, in time, when we're ready, but this..." I sighed, nose crinkling up at the thought. I couldn't find the word for it– but it felt like it was too personal for anyone else to know just yet, as if showing off this great happiness to the rest of the world might put it at risk. "This is ours. And I'd like it to stay that way, for a little bit."
"And so it shall," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Good luck. You're the one who's living with Brown and Theo, and both are better at sniffing out secrets than niffler's are at finding gold."
"But you have to stay in a room with Blaise, who is the most perceptive wizard I know," I reminded him. Draco's lips thinned into a small grimace, though his eyes shone as he looked at me.
"Fifteen galleons say you let it slip first," he challenged, and I grinned.
"Deal," I told him, when the memory hit me. My nose crinkled. "Actually, can we do ten? I'm already out fifteen."
If he was puzzled by the news, he didn't show it. Instead he just nodded, looking entirely too amused as he said, "Fine. Now drink your hot chocolate and get dressed– you've not experienced Paris in the morning hours yet, and it's an experience I'd hate for you to miss."
_
Paris in the morning, as it ended up, meant coffee, crepes, and lots of browsing of muggle and wizard stores alike. The first stop had been a witch's boutique– the dress I had worn to dinner wasn't exactly made for morning walks– and switching into boots, jeans, and a sweater was much more comfortable for the January weather. Draco had switched out his suit for more casual attire as well, and we walked arm-in-arm down the streets, blending in amongst the rest of the crowd.
"You know," I started as we walked, my fingers slowly picking apart a croissant we had taken to-go, "I recall you mentioning finding a place in Paris. A get away."
Draco's lips switched, a small smile. He didn't look at as we walked, eyes drawn ahead of us, scanning the streets, but he did raise an eyebrow as he said, "I did."
I nodded, smiling a little to myself. "I think I like that idea."
"We can start looking in the fall, perhaps," he said. "I'd like it to be a joint decision."
"At least I'll have a say in something," I teased, grinning a little as I looked up to him. "I'm still completely in the dark about where we're going after the wedding. Private was a rather shoddy hint, and I think you know that."
"Do you want another?" He asked, an eyebrow quirking up as he turned his head to gaze down at me.
"I think I deserve another," I said haughtily, chuckling when he rolled his eyes. "It's only fair."
"Private," he said again after a slight pause, moving to sidestep a rowdy-looking group of tourists with a sigh. I frowned at him, prepared to berate him for the repeated hint before he added, looking entirely too smug about the whole thing, "Beach."
I let out a hum, pretending to think on it. "You're very good at being vague, Draco Malfoy."
"It's one of my better traits," he informed me, his grin impish. It softened as he slowed, drawing us to a gentle stop on one of the less crowded streets of Paris. "Is promising you'll enjoy it enough?"
"For now," I decided, in a vague enough tone myself. "At least I know I need to buy a bathing suit."
"Or not." Draco shrugged dismissively and ducked into a store, leaving me to gape at him in surprise before I followed after.
We ended up returning back to London around 5 in Paris, which meant it was 4 in London, which also meant I arrived back to my flat just in time to receive the owl Tonks had sent over– an invitation to go over to the Lupin's for dinner. I agreed readily, then told Draco he was coming with me. He didn't refuse.
"I have to take in as many homemade meals as possible before going back to Hogwarts," he told me, his smile twisting into the barest grimace. 'Going back to Hogwarts' was a topic we both preferred to overlook, especially as the time neared. We had two days. Regardless, I managed my best smile.
"I do hope our next honeymoon is considerably longer," I teased. He visibly perked up.
"Two weeks at minimum," he promised, grinning when my expression morphed into of surprise.
"Two weeks?" I asked, startled a little by the raised of pitch in my own voice. Draco nodded, looking rather pleased as he settled back into my living room couch, legs propped up and crossed atop the coffee table.
"At minimum," he repeated, a small smirk sliding over his lips. I shook my head, setting my bag down beside me– I'd insisted on picking a few things up for my flatmates and family to prove I cared– before I strutted over, internally hoping that no one was home as I settled myself on my husband's lap.
"And how long maximum, would you say?" I asked slowly, draping my arms loosely over his shoulders. He grinned, looking immensely content with himself, and leant up from where he rested against the couch to kiss me, fingers reaching to wrap around my hips when a door down the hall slammed open.
We turned to look the same time Theo saw us, hair a mess and still in pajamas. His expression twisted into one of bitter exasperation as he said, "Merlin's saggy left tit, you two– couldn't you wait until the honeymoon for this sort of behavior?"
We paused for a moment, letting the words settle in, and then I was laughing hard enough that I fell sideways onto the couch. Draco had hidden his face with his hands, shoulders shaking silently, and Theo looked absolutely livid in the most ridiculous way.
"You're both idiots," he told us promptly. "I love you both. But you're both idiots. And you better have brought me back something from Paris."
"We did," Draco assured him, resting his chin atop his hands as he turned to look at his friend. "Lily has it in her bag."
Theo nodded in one sharp, smooth movement. "Good. Thank you."
"You're welcome," I said wryly. "Do you want to come to dinner with us? We're going to the Lupin's, and Tonks has promised banoffee pie for dessert."
"You cannot tempt me with your banoffee pie," Theo accused, dark eyes narrowed. Draco raised an eyebrow, and the former Slytherin sighed, shoulders slumping. "Fine. Can I have ten minutes to get dressed properly?"
"Five, or else I'm giving your gift to Teddy," I warned, and Draco grinned at me as Theo huffed and raced to his room, footsteps thumping clumsily down the hall. I smiled, taking Draco's hand when he offered it to me and letting him pull me back up. His eyes were fond.
"I love you," he told me, lifting up a hand to tuck my hair back behind my ear. I nodded, slipping from the couch to rise to my feet, using his hand to pull him up with me.
"Love you too," I said, leaning up to peck his lips, his chest warm and heart beating beneath the skin of my palms. He smiled, fingers curved under my elbows.
"I'll head over and see if they need help with anything– did you want to see if Lavender is home?" He asked, brows furrowed with the question. I nodded, smiling a little.
"Yeah– I'll be right after you, though," I told him. When a figure hurried by us, a muttered curse in our direction and a hissed whisper of "The Lupin House" in the fireplace, the room basked in the floo's light as I added, "And Theo, of course."
"He really thought you weren't joking," Draco murmured, looking intensely amused with his friend. He leant down to me again, lips pressing to my temple before he headed to the fireplace. He made sure to turn back and wink at me before he disappeared in the familiar flash of warm green.
I shook my head fondly.
Lavender didn't reply when I knocked on her bedroom door, and knowing she had said something about being with her own family, I settled with leaving her presents where she'd see them when she came home.
I set the vintage Parisian scarf and a silk bag that contained fifteen galleons inside it atop the kitchen counter before slipping into the fireplace to go join my family, smiling all the while to myself.
The note I'd attached to the small package I'd left behind, written in my best handwriting, read "Not a single word, Lavender Brown."
I'd let her put the pieces together on her own.
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So much work went into this chapter (nearly 8,000 words, friends) and love and care so I truly, truly hoped you enjoyed reading it and all of its affection. I'm almost positive no one could've seen this coming, so hopefully I did well in (pleasantly) surprising you with A FRENCH ELOPEMENT HECK YEAH.
I have no idea how French elopements work, guys. I'm pretty sure they're impossible for foreigners. Also, timezones are weird (I am in neither London or Paris, so calculating that distance while working within my own was... interesting). Just... don't worry about it. Yay, fiction!
Anyway, YES, there will still be an ~official~ wedding, amongst other things. No one will be deprived of anything they wish to see! Within reasonable expectation, of course.
This was a super Drily-heavy chapter, and if that is not your thing, I am so sorry. The last two chapters were pretty family-fun-oriented, and the next one will likely be as well cause certain wizards go back to school to finish their education.
I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, my friends.
Now– and I'm going to say it, so skip this paragraph if it grosses you out for whatever reason– I know sex in YA-themed(which is largely what this book is) stories is sort of a controversial topic. I try my best to be sensitive to any younger readers that might be on Wattpad while also not shying away from the realities/fluffiness of sexual situations that are portrayed in my book/s. So I hope, somehow, I have found a decent balance that everyone enjoys without being too squeamish or disappointed with the content.
Also, mini-update: I'm nearly 100 pages into the first draft of my first, original novel, and it's going so very slow, but it feels so very good. Exiting times, you guys! <3
As always, your opinions matter very much to me. So let me know what you think by voting, commenting, or sending me a quick message! I read everything I get and reply to what I can.
IMPORTANT: Valentines Day is coming up. Normally around this time of year, I'll open up my writing abilities and allow you lovely readers to choose 3 Harry Potter pairings you'd love to read fluffy wonderfulness about for the holiday. Because of my busy schedule (yay education) I'm debating on whether to do it this year or not– so if it is something you would be interested in participating in, PLEASE LET ME KNOW! I will likely not being doing it unless there is an obvious want for it. And if there is, I will oblige willingly, because it's really fun to do– I just want to make sure there is actually an audience for it.
(You can read past Valentine's day fic requests in my slightly-spoilery, short-story compilation book that is found somewhere amongst the rest)
Okay, friends. I hope you're all having a marvelous 2017 so far. And if you haven't been having a marvelous 2017, I hope it gets better. Buy some flowers. Make tea. Watch a feel-good movie. Take care of yourself!! Love yourself!! Because you are so very, very important.
Luv ya,
-Lily
P.S This chapter has been posted on 1/14/17, which as some of you may know, is the one year anniversary of our beloved Alan Rickman's passing. I really miss him, even though I didn't know him. But I heard many a great things about the man, and he had a fantastic impact on my quiet little bookish soul. I really wish I could've met him. I'm drinking butterbeer tonight in his honor. <3