80

As the house elves appeared to clear up the remnants of their meal, she and Lucius meandered through the gardens, down the path hidden between the trees. They wandered for a while in the dappled afternoon shade, simply enjoying each others company, before settling themselves on a grassy slope that bordered the lake.

"So," he asked as she rested against his shoulder, "what do you want to do tonight?"

"I wasn't aware we had that many options." She replied with a small laugh, sitting up to face him. "Not that I mind spending a nice evening by the fire, especially if it's with you."

"Well, I was thinking more about going out." He told her with a mischievous smirk.

"I'm not sure people would be too happy seeing you strolling around Diagon Alley."

"I never said that we would be going there."

"Where then?"

"All I will say is that we would need to be in London by seven this evening." He smirked at her irritated scowl.

"If I don't know where I'm going, how am I supposed to know what to wear?"

"I can help with that."

"Oh you are so frustrating." She growled, hitting him playfully on the arm.

"You like it really."

"Well, yes, but it's really annoying that I can't do anything for you."

"I don't mind."

"But you give me all these magnificent things and take me to such breathtaking places," she explained, "and I give you not a button in return."

"I thought we'd gone over this already?"

"I know, but it still annoys me."

"Well what do you want me to do about it? Charge you rent?" he chuckled at the mere thought.

"No, I mean, I just don't like that people could think I am here only for the money. I have my own fortune, nothing to yours of course, but far beyond what most could imagine for someone my age."

"I know you're not here for the money, that's all that matters."

"Not to the Daily Prophet."

"Since when did we involve that rag in our lives?"

"True, but my point is that I wish I could give you something."

"You already have." He shook his head in disbelief at how much this issue troubled her.

"I know I have." She sighed, looking wistfully at the water below them. "I just wish it could be something more tangible." Leaning back into him, they stayed in silence for a good while longer; listening to the wind through the trees and the gentle lapping of the water at the lake's edge.

Returning to the house a little after four o'clock, her mind still full of their previous conversation, she was suddenly struck with an idea of how to give him something in return. Whilst Lucius took a shower, she hurried off to his study to find parchment and a quill. Scrawling a quick note, she tapped it three times with her wand and watched as it coiled and disappeared in a flash of orange flame. Ten minutes later, another scroll of parchment appeared in a flash of the same orange flame. Unrolling it, a familiar curling script lay before her eyes.

Miss Potter

Please find enclosed that which you requested moments ago. I suppose that I can guess your reasons for such a request, but I would wish to counsel you on its usage. From what I have seen, I have no qualms about this knowledge being passed on. There are those, however, who would not wish such a person to be party to such information. Use it wisely.

Regards

Albus Dumbledore

Contained within the first scroll was another, smaller one that contained only five lines of script. Five lines that, only a year ago, would have been worth a thousand times their weight in gold to any Death Eater. Incinerating Dumbledore's letter, she folded the other piece of parchment tightly and stuffed it in the back of her jeans. Leaving the desk as if no one had been in, she wandered back through the house to get changed; finding Lucius half dressed and poring through her wardrobe.

"I think you're looking in the wrong one." She hissed from the doorway, fighting a giggle.

"Very funny." He drawled. "I think this should do for tonight." He pulled out a dress and hung it on the wardrobe door.

"If you were wanting to be discrete I think that dress might be a mistake." She raised her eyebrows at his choice.

"Discretion will not matter where we are going."

"If you say so." She shrugged, disappearing through to the bathroom to have a quick shower.

"What about dinner?" she asked curiously once she was done in the bathroom. "Is that what this is?"

"We're not going for dinner."

"Well where are we going then?"

"You'll find out soon enough." He smirked, obviously enjoying her frustration.

"And are you really sure that is an appropriate outfit?" she nodded again to the dress that was hanging ready.

"Stop protesting and put it on!" he laughed, clearly enjoying her frustration. "I didn't buy it for it to lie unworn."

In her gut, she knew that she was probably going to be vastly overdressed for wherever they were going, but if it was going to make him smile then she didn't mind. He kept her frown in place as she slipped the dress over her head, allowing him to do up the zip on the side before turning her attention to her hair. Running a brush through the wavy tresses, she flicked it into a side parting so it fell slightly over the right side of her face. Once satisfied that it was alluring enough, she threaded a pair of chandelier earrings dripping with diamonds into her ears and slipped a matching diamond cuff around her wrist. The final touch was to slip her feet in to a pair of vertiginous heels. She resisted the temptation to gasp when she saw how she looked in the mirror, although the look on Lucius' face, reflected back at her, said it all.

"Alright then." She sighed, turning round and spraying on some perfume. "I'm ready for your little mystery evening." Taking the arm he offered, she allowed him to lead her down to where the car was waiting in front of the house; the driver holding the door open like always.

She gave up on questioning him half way through the journey as apparently he was resolved to reveal nothing. Instead she gazed out of the window to enjoy the passing scenery as they grew closer and closer to the shining lights of the capital. All the while, however, her mind wandered to the little slip of parchment Dumbledore had sent. It was now securely tucked away in the small bag she carried, but if felt as if it was burning a hole in the black silk.

"Your brother had a point you know." He commented, apparently at random.

"About what?"

"What he said the other day, asking what you were going to do once this is over, about your future."

"Well, for the moment I'm not sure if I have a future." She replied glumly.

"You will," he said reassuringly, taking her hand in his, "no matter what happens now, you cannot be denied a future."

"Who would trust me though?" she did not meet his eyes, keeping her gaze fixed firmly out the window. "I'd imagine not many."

"They cannot deny that you have told the truth."

"They have to believe that though."

"Eventually they will."

"And when will that be?" she sighed, still avoiding his gaze.

"I doubt that it shall be very long." He gave her an encouraging smile as she diverted her gaze towards him. "What did you want to do? What did you dream of?"

"Well," she paused, as if trying to remember details from another life, "Harry and I always wanted to be Aurors. After years spent fighting it seemed like the logical choice."

"And now?"

"Now, well, I don't actually want to fight any more." She sighed deeply, as if getting a weight off her chest. "Harry still wants to get into the Auror Office, but as far as I'm concerned that opportunity can happily pass me by."

"What about Quidditch? You're nothing short of gifted in that respect."

"That would be fun," her face lit up at the mention of the game she loved so much, "can you imagine it! It would be beyond amazing to play at the World Cup."

"There's teaching too."

"I'm not sure parents would trust me not to corrupt the minds of their children."

"But you would be an obvious choice to teach Defence against the Dark Arts."

"I think I'll leave that to Severus for the moment, he's earned it."

"Politics then?"

"And do exactly like that article in the Prophet said?" she laughed, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I don't think that they were entirely wrong in their estimations."

"But again we have the issue of trust."

"But who in politics is completely trustworthy?"

"I have no desire to be the next Minister for Magic."

"I'm not saying you have to be the figurehead," he shook his head, a crafty smile on his face, "but if change is what is needed, they why not go and do the changing?"

"It sounds like a brilliant plan," she sighed, "but don't you think it's a little premature to start talking about careers?"

"I want you to have your future, no matter what happens. You've earned it. I don't want you to be lingering forever in the house. I don't want it to become a prison."

"I cannot be imprisoned in a place I love." He was about to reply but they entered London and, once again, she was distracted by the early evening vibrancy of the city.

"So, are we any closer to our destination?" she asked him once again as they truly reached central London.

"Very close." He smirked. "In fact, it's just coming up ahead." Craning her neck, Kathryn peered through the windscreen at the great rounded building looking in the distance.

"The Royal Albert Hall?" she quirked an eyebrow at him in disbelief.

"I just happen to have a box."

"It's a Muggle venue?"

"That doesn't stop my enjoyment of great music." For a few moments she simply stared at him in disbelief, frozen in her expression of shock. She snapped out of it, however, as the car rolled to a stop.

"You're serious?"

"Deadly." The driver was now walking around to open his door. As Lucius exited the car, she took a few deep, steadying breaths before the door on her side was pulled open and a hand reached down to help her out.

She exited gracefully, blinking slightly in the light that had been markedly reduced by the tinted car windows. People milled all around them, heading towards the Albert Hall. Some were dressed rather smartly, others just in jeans and trainers. One common feather of all, however, was the face hat they were all staring at the new arrivals. With a curt nod to their driver, Lucius placed his left arm lightly on her waist and they walked forward towards the main doors.

As they walked up the stairs to his box, she wished desperately that she had changed her outfit. She could feel the stared burning into her back and hear the none-too-discrete mutterings of fellow attendees. She knew how it must have looked; Lucius with his cane and she in her dress. It was a stunning dress to be sure, but it was far beyond what anyone else was wearing. Made of cream silk that had the appearance of being loosely wrapped around her slender frame, it was essentially strapless save for a thick band of black velvet that crossed her left shoulder and ended in an oversized bow on the front. This was a motif repeated further down the dress, this time on the right side, at the apex of a long split that went from the floor to her mid-thigh. When teamed with the preposterously high shoes she was wearing, she supposed that the appropriate word was statuesque.

"Everybody is staring." She whispered in his ear.

"So they should be, you look exquisite." He purred back, his face wearing a very satisfied smirk.

"You are unbelievable!"

"So are you. I've seen several young men blink to make sure you're really there." She merely glared at him as they were shown into his box.

"So what have you brought me here for?" she asked once the door was shut behind them and they had taken their seats.

"Mendelssohn's Italian Symphony," he explained, "a bit of Rossini, Sir Peter Maxwell Davies' Roma Amor and some Respighi."

"And you didn't stop to think what would happen if you were seen?"

"I was willing to take that chance." He shrugged. They remained silence as a waiter appeared with a bottle of wine and a tray laden with canapés.

"We're a safe distance from Diagon Alley I suppose." She conceded as the lights in the grandly appointed hall dimmed.

"But if you have a box here then how likely is it that there are others from our walk of life here?"

"Well let's just hope the ones who are here have never heard of me." He chuckled.

"I somehow doubt that such a thing is possible, not after daily articles in the Prophet since July."

"Relax," he shrugged as the conductor walked on to great applause, "I'd say we're guaranteed a fair degree of anonymity for the evening."

"Well I just hope your right." She took a satisfying sip of her wine as the orchestra delivered the first few notes of Mendelssohn's Italian Symphony. It was a beautiful piece, reflecting the time spent in Italy by the composer. Sitting in the darkness of the grand concert hall, the music surrounded her; it was as if it reached her very soul. Perched on the edge of her seat, she drank in every note. The Italian Symphony was followed by two pieces by Rossini, again on an Italian theme, before the lights went back up for the interval.

"Well?" he asked curiously as applause reverberated off the walls. "What did you think?"

"Well, I think you are most excellent." She beamed at him.

"I take it that means you enjoyed it?"

"It was beautiful." The applause was petering off now. "I'm glad you brought me."

"I thought you'd like it, Mendelssohn was an excellent composer." He explained as she stood.

"I'll be back in a moment," she whispered in his ear, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, "try not to get into any trouble while I'm gone."

Stepping out of the door to their box, she quickly spotted the sign for the ladies and obediently followed, trying to attract as little attention as possible as she did so. Of course, a thigh high split didn't help in that endeavour. She could almost feel people's eyes boring into her back as she walked. Women in particular shot her horribly spiteful glances as their significant other let their gaze wander in her direction.

Slipping into the toilets, she thankfully found a cubicle free and darted in, happy that she wouldn't have to queue and endure more of their stares.

"Did you see that girl?" a voice suddenly said as one of the cubicle doors opened.

"Oh yes." The companion of the first woman replied as she too emerged. "Who didn't?" she added scathingly.

"I don't know who she thinks she is," the first continued, "I certainly don't recognise her."

"Well in a dress like that, she must be someone." The second speculated.

"Someone with too much money." The first snorted. "If it's even hers." Kathryn stared down at her knees, her hands running over the soft fabric of the dress that Lucius had paid for.

"Do you reckon she could be a model?" the second speculated. "I'd kill for legs like that, instead of these stumpy things." Kathryn saw a pair of flat black shoes with a sparkly buckle adornment pass by her cubicle door, followed by the sound of paper towels being pulled from a dispenser.

A third woman exited one of the cubicles.

"Did you see her jewellery too?" she commented as a tap gushed water into one of the sinks. "You've got to have serious cash for things like that."

"What about royalty?" the second woman seemed all too keen to speculate on her possible identity.

"I'd have thought we'd have heard of her if she was. It's not like they're publicity shy."

"Well did you see the man with her?" the second pitched in again.

"Looked old enough to be her father." That was the third woman making a comment.

"And she can only be what, twenty two? Twenty three at most." Kathryn fought the temptation to giggle. What would they say if they found out she was only twenty?

"What would her father think about that eh?" this comment from the first woman stung, as Kathryn could only imagine what her parents would be thinking.

"Well, he must be what? Early forties?" the second woman guessed." He can't be much older than that."

"Devilishly handsome though." The third added. "In fairness to her I can see why she's there." At least this comment made Kathryn smile.

"It's still a bit strange though." The first drawled. "I mean, did you see his cane? With a snake head? What kind of person carries a cane like that these days?"

"Well, he doesn't look short on cash."

"Yeah." The first sighed. "I suppose when you're that rich you can afford not to care what people think about you."

"It's certainly a story to tell at work on Monday" the third woman chuckled. Kathryn heard the creak of the door and three sets of footsteps filed out.

Opening the door a crack, she peered out to find the bathroom blissfully empty. Quickly she washed and dried her hands, giving her hair one last look over before exiting into the carpeted corridor.

Walking back to the box, she had not gone far when she spotted a pair of women, probably in their mid-forties, positively gawping at her. Their mouths were practically hanging open as their gaze flicked from her, to that bathroom, and back to her again. Looking down, Kathryn recognised the black shoes with the sparkly buckle that she had seen only moments earlier. As she drew closer and closer, the women seemed to become more and more nervous, as if expecting her to stop and cause a scene. Instead Kathryn carried on, not even looking at them, at least not until she was just going past. Fixing them with her most regal gaze, she gave a slight smile and spoke.

"Good evening." The objects of her greeting looked dumbfounded as she continued on, gazing after her as if she had just done something spectacular. Kathryn still had the smirk on her face as she walked back into their box.

"You took your time." Lucius commented as she took her seat next to him, taking her hand and planting a light kiss upon it. "I was beginning to worry if you'd abandoned me."

"Oh no," she smiled back at him, "I was just distracted by some rather interesting conversation in the ladies."

"Nothing about me I hope?"

"To be honest I think they were more interested in me." She sighed. "If you went into the gents they'd probably want to line up and shake your hand. I, on the other hand, do not have such luck."

"What do you mean?"

"No matter which society I move in, wizarding or otherwise, all I am seen as is a gold-digger, a slut or a sell-out. Quite frankly it's depressing."

"Think nothing of it. The have no clue about our lives that allows them to make such judgements."

"I still hate it."

"All they are concerned about is appearance." He reassured her. "They know nothing of who you are or what you have done for them. Because of you, their lives are secure, but all they do is look and see the dress and the diamonds and assume that it is all because of me."

"Well, when it comes to the dress and the diamonds, I suppose they are right." She sighed, gazing somewhat morosely over the auditorium as the lights went down again.

"But everything else is all you." He shot her a dashing smile. "They have no idea that you are the one with all the power in this couple." They spoke no further as the first strains of Sir Peter Maxwell Davies' Roma Amor reached their ears. It was fortunate, seeing as Kathryn had no reply for that particular comment.

Just as the previous pieces had been, the music was beautiful. The notes soared around the hall; enveloping her and making her feel like she was the only witness to this masterpiece. It was only Lucius' hand, resting gently upon hers, that reminded her she was not alone. She watched him in the darkness, noting how his face was completely concentrated on the music. Followed by Respighi, she thought that the evening had been just about perfect as the crowd rose to its feet in applause.

"Worth breaking the rules for?" he asked once the applause had died down and people were beginning to make their way out.

"You're always worth breaking the rules for." She smirked back. "Are you up for any more? I'm starving!"

"I'm sure we could find somewhere for a late dinner."

"Excellent."

"Shall we?" standing, he offered her his arm and together they exited their box and joined the crowds thronging towards the exits. She could feel people staring again, but she held her head up high. If she was not ashamed to be seen with him in the wizarding world, then she was damned is she was going to feel ashamed in the Muggle world. True, these people she didn't know judged her, but that was the point; they knew nothing about her.

"I'll be back in a moment." She whispered in his ear as they reached the foyer. The sky outside the main doors was dark, the nights already cutting in after the summer. Slipping into the nearest bathroom, she locked herself in a cubicle and pulled out a small square of black fabric. Taking her wand, she returned the swatch of fabric to its original size and flung it over her shoulder. After all, it was nearly the autumn and the nights were growing cooler. As she left the cubicle, she knew what the women around her must be thinking, but instead of dwelling on it like last time she shrugged it off, readjusted her hair and strode back out into the foyer.

Lucius, standing waiting for her return, took the chance to observe all the other people in the room. Many were looking at him curiously, others were disinterested, and others were looking in the exact opposite direction. Following their line of sight, he saw a raven-haired beauty walk into view. His raven-haired beauty. A black fur wrap was now draped loosely over her arms, matching the velvet trim of the dress. She was truly statuesque, regal even. Her face was a mask of indifference, as if she was used to everyone staring. Indeed, everyone was staring, as each stride bared a vast expanse of pale, slender leg. She gave the tiniest of smirks as their eyes met; a smirk he returned as she finally stopped before him.

"And you worry about me not being discrete." He commented as the rest of the audience bustled around them.

"Very funny." She drawled as he slipped an arm about her waist and they began to head for the south exit.

They stepped into the darkness of the night, onto the steps leading up to the south entrance of the Albert Hall. They cut a swathe through the crowds, people stopping to stare as they passed.

"Have you ever seen anything like it?" she heard one woman whisper as they walked.

"Not likely." Lucius sniggered in her ear as more eyes turned their way.

All around them, people watched as the mysterious couple were met at the foot of the steps by a sleek black car. With the combination of his cane and her stupendous jewellery, everyone knew that these two were probably richer than their wildest dreams. Yet, behind the wealth, they saw the real affection with which he regarded her as he helped her into the car. Then they were gone, hidden behind darkened glass and whisked away into the London night.

After a late supper of French onion soup and more wine in a nearby restaurant, the London Saturday night was in full swing. People were everywhere, and although they were so very wrapped up in their own activities, they still found a moment to stare.

"So what now?" he asked her as they stood beside his car. "Home?"

"Well, I did have something in mind," she smirked playfully, "but we won't need the car."

"Do I get to know where we are going?"

"Not yet," her reply was coy, "trust me."

"As you wish." With a few murmured words to the driver, the car slid away into the night. "Lead on."

Taking his hand, she led him through Regent's Park; past the spectacular fountain and out the east side of the park. After that, they meandered through the nearby streets, past some truly spectacular homes, finally arriving in what he would have described as a fairly standard Muggle street. None of the townhouses were that remarkable, the only strange thing being that there was no number twelve between eleven and thirteen.

"So why exactly have you brought me here?" he drawled, quite plain that he would rather be in the car on the way back to the manor.

"Well," she sighed, gazing at numbers eleven and thirteen as if there was something there he couldn't see, "you could say that I've decided to give you a gift."

"And that gift is here?" he didn't sound too interested.

"Well, it will be in a minute." Her smile grew wider still.

"What are you smiling about?" he demanded as she dug in her bag, pulling out a scrap of parchment.

"Don't ask, just read this." She placed the parchment in his hands and he opened it to reveal a familiar spindly writing.

The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at number 12 Grimmauld Place, London.

It was only one sentence, but looking up at the space between numbers eleven and thirteen, a house had materialised. The door was black and had a number twelve just above the brass knocker. Taking the parchment, the tapped it with her wand and it incinerated in a burst of flame.

"You once asked me where I hid." She said quietly, taking his hand in hers. "This is it."

"You cannot seriously be doing this."

"I trust you." She made to pull him towards the door.

"What about your Godfather?" he was understandably uneasy about having to face Sirius for the second time that day.

"Harry told me that they were going to stay with the Weasleys tonight," she explained, "the house should be empty."

"You know that this isn't important to me anymore." He reminded her as they walked up the steps to the front door.

"I know, but I want you to see it."

"Why?"

"Because it's important to me. I have seen every inch of the manor and you have no idea how I have lived. I want you to see." Pushing open the door as quietly as she could, she led him inside, making sure he avoided the umbrella stand that Tonks so often tripped over. She could hear the faint noises of Mrs. Black dozing behind her velvet curtain and breathed a sigh of relief. Lucius, meanwhile, was staring up at the stuffed heads of the previous House Elves.

"This is Orion Black's house, isn't it?" he asked in a hushed tone. Kathryn nodded in response. "I've never been before now, but I've hear the stories about the heads." He nodded towards the macabre wall adornments.

"Sirius' mother is behind there." She whispered, nodding at the curtain.

"What do you mean?"

"Her portrait lives behind that curtain, we can't get it off and she is very vocal about us living here. She doesn't like we half bloods and traitors."

"I see."

Sparing little time for the rest of the tour, they walked gingerly up the stairs until they reached the very top floor that Sirius had converted all those years ago. Standing before the door, she whispered in his ear.

"No one, save my brother, friends and Godfather, has ever been in here." All of a sudden she was nervous. "This means a lot to me." Turning the handle, she let him in to what, for so many years, had been her private sanctuary. It was just as she had left it months ago. The crisp cream sheets, with their red coverlet, were neatly arranged. The lights of London blazed behind the shut curtains and the remnants of a fire burned in the grate. Maybe Sirius never gave up the hope that she would come home. Just as a precaution, she locked the door behind them and put an imperturbable charm in place.

"Sirius made all this for me when I arrived." She explained, gesturing at everything. "There was no more space in the house you see. This used to be the attic."

"That was nice of him."

"It was incredibly nice seeing as I just showed up on the doorstep without warning."

"And this is the headquarters of the Order too?"

"Always has been, at least, since Dumbledore reformed the order just before fifth year."

"I can't believe that I'm standing here, after everything that went on. After all I did to try and get you to tell me." His voice was heavily tinged with remorse.

"You have earned this privilege." She told him softly. "And this one." Pulling him towards her, she kissed him fully, deeply. He wasted no time in taking the hint; drinking her in like they had done the fine wine that evening. Her bed was as soft as she remembered, and she was suddenly quite glad that she had asked for a sizeable bed.

For the first time, she made love in her own bed; a place she had vowed never to share until she had someone truly remarkable. They may have remained quiet, for safety's sake, but they were no less impassioned. Although nothing was said, Lucius knew the great leap she was taking; letting him into a space that she had protected for so long. It was an incredibly selfless act on her behalf; letting him in somewhere that she had so painstakingly protected. Listening to the muffled noises of the city outside, they lay sleepily together and did not worry about the morning.