AN: Thank you for reading, following, favoriting and specially the reviews. I don't own anything related to the Harry Potter franchise.

Chapter 6

Hermione

From dead asleep to fully awake takes about three seconds. It feels like a loaded cement truck driving near your bedroom window. Even silenced, Ronald's snoring is... impressive. I have him in a loose hogtie, and last night's activities left welts in his legs and buttocks and a few scratches on his back and arms. I slide a nail down his shoulder. Nice strong arms, too.

I've been trying to follows Luna's advice, and ease up a bit on him. The relaxed look on his sleeping face suggests I've been successful, and the bubble of dark anger inside me suggests this may not be a good long term strategy. I need help. Thank Morgana, I'll be seeing Harry later today, and we can talk.

I take him in my mouth, swirling my tongue. The vibration of the muted snoring turns into a throaty moan. His standards of hygiene improved dramatically. He smells of some floral soap, with a bit of sweat. I think of Molly, as I work on him, and smile. Such a spoiled little brat... all he really needed was a bit of a firm hand and the right set of incentives to shape up. A gentle bite makes his back stiffen and a deeper swallow with a little handy help finishes him off nicely. His load goes smoothly down my throat, salty and a little bitter, a little magical protein appetizer.

I get up and undo his bindings. He sits on the bed, scratches his head and looks pleased. As well he should be. "Go to the tower to clean-up and change. I'll meet you at breakfast. Dress nicely." He searches for his clothes while I watch. I indulge, casting a little stinging hex at his buttocks. He yelps, turns back to me and smiles, while rubbing the affected spot. I feel a bubble of affection for the big lump, which together with the dark anger, really make my head spin.

After a nice long shower, I potion my hair into submission, tie it in a loose ponytail and add a bit of make-up. I also put on some nice muggle winter clothes. Tan, wool-lined calfskin boots, black leggings, a gray miniskirt, white turtleneck, A thick lilac v-neck sweater and a matching scarf. I could add an overcoat, but I will take looks over comfort and use warming charms as needed. I'm going out with Ronald, but I'm mostly showing up the stupid purebloods and fishing for Harry's appreciative smile.

We meet for breakfast. Ginny also went out of her way, wearing a green pullover that shows off her perky little assets and goes beautifully with her hair. Tight blue jeans, white trainers and expert make-up complete her ensemble. Our eyes meet and we exchange a nod and a smile.

Neville and Luna come in together, holding hands. That earns them a dirty look from Hannah Abbott and a few other girls. Neville has become very attractive, aside from being rich, sweet and not as shy as he used to be. Hannah dumped him a few weeks ago, I have no idea why, and the thing with Luna is brand new. I silently wish them luck.

Ronald comes in late, his hair still wet, but wearing his nicest robes, over what I presume is some decent muggle clothes. He sits next to me and inhales his breakfast, taking care to chew with his mouth closed, while everyone else finishes up and chats. The food disappears and the whole group moves together, heading out to Hogsmead. Daphne approaches me as we get close to the door. Before she says anything I lift a hand, palm outwards. "He's meeting us outside. I'll talk to him today." She nods and walks away without a word.

Ronald whispers in my ear. "What was that?"

"She wants to talk to Harry, and she needs help to make it happen."

Ron is still prejudiced against Slytherins, but fighting on our side wins her a little slack, even with him. He just frowns. "What does she want?"

"I don't know. House business, she says."

He scratches his head. "I don't know... what are you going to do?"

I huff. "Tell Harry about it and leave it to him."

He looks very uncomfortable. "Ehh.." My articulate boyfriend. "You know what? Forget it! What do I know about stupid House business anyways?"

I stretch on tiptoes and give him a peck on the lips. "That's the spirit." He looks confused for a moment, and then shrugs and smiles broadly. My reaction tells him he did something right, but he doesn't know what. Maybe, just maybe, he's growing up a bit.

Harry is waiting for us when the carriages arrive. He's a little underdressed for the Scottish late autumn weather, with gray slacks, black leather shoes, a white button shirt and a sleeveless pullover with Griffindor colors. His hair is the usual mess, and he looks tired. Ginny squeals and takes a run at him. From afar, we exchange a glance, and he checks me out, with a smile and a little approving nod. Then Ginny jumps him, arms around his neck and legs around his waist. They kiss passionately, Harry's hands on her bum, holding her up.

Everybody around is enjoying the inappropriate spectacle. Even Ronald is smiling, when the big brother thing wakes up and he frowns. "Hey!"

They break the kiss and Harry puts Ginny on the ground. They walk towards us. "Hey yourself, Ron."

Several hugs and handshakes follow, with Ron, Neville, Dean, Luna, Parvati, Padma, Justin, Anthony and Demelza. I stand back, just watching Harry's easy rapport with the DA veterans.

Finally he reaches me and I jump him in a brief hug. He smells of citric aftershave and old leather. He speaks so everyone hears. "Hey. Missed you, Big Head Girl."

I slap him in the shoulder, and he makes a little theater. "I've missed you too, dumb jock."

He steps back a bit and gives me a smile. "We're on for later?"

"Of course. After lunch, Sirius cave."

The group begins to break apart. Harry and Ginny stay back. I give Ronald my arm and we head to Scrivenshafts when a loud slap and a shrill scream are heard. "I hate you!"

We turn around in time to see Ginny running up the path to the castle, and Harry, hand on his face, watching her go. The sadness in Harry's face is nothing new, but it's something I sincerely hoped never to see again. Ronald murmurs "Bloody hell..." Before we can actually react, a soft pop and Harry apparates away to parts unknown.

"Ronald." He is still staring at his sister's backside. I raise my voice a bit. "Ronald!"

He shakes his head and looks at me. "What?"

"We should go after her."

He looks back up the hill. His sister is no longer visible. "She's fast."

"I have the map in my trunk. Let's go."

"What about..."

"He'll be fine for now. We can talk to him later."

"W-What do you think happened?"

I feel a stab of annoyance. "It looks like Harry ended things." At Ronald's frown I continue. "He wouldn't hurt her without a good reason."

He replies with his old sullen anger. "Of course you're going to take his side."

I stare at him, anger rising like an ice snake ready to strike. He notes my change in demeanor and flinches. I speak slowly. "Your sister is an ungrateful, spoiled brat."

He's still angry. "What?"

"And you are an idiot." I push a stiff finger into his chest and he shuffles back. "Your sister..." I stand rigid in front of him clench my fists until my nails draw blood. "Your sister owes him nothing less than her immortal soul!" I growl, and his anger turns to fear. My screaming turns to a whisper, as people's attention turns to us. "She doesn't deserve to lick his muddy boots, Ronald."

He looks ashamed. "She's still my sister."

My shoulders sag, and most of the anger drains away. "Fine. Go to her. And keep her away from me. I don't want to see either of your faces anytime soon... boyfriend."

+O+O+O+O+O+

I apparate outside the cave. It's a ten minute walk from the center of Hogsmeade, but it feels like another world. Scotland's hardscrabble landscape. Grass and thistle, gray naked rock, a couple of gnarled trees near the cave mouth. Weak sunlight on a cloudless sky and a chill wind drawing the warmth from your bones. He's inside the cave, sitting in a conjured a canvas chair, with another chair next to it and a tray with tea and scones between them. He greets me with a small, tired smile, and I feel my heart loosen up a bit. "Hi."

I sit and take a cup, sipping it slowly. Perfect. Earl Gray, no sugar and a drop of milk. He's always been good at such details. "Hi. Good tea."

"Well, thank you. So nice of you to drop by." His mock-Oxbridge accent is both funny and cute.

I reply in the same dry tone. "So, Lord Potter, please forgive my asking. What happened with Miss Weasley?"

"That's a long, sad story, my dear Miss Granger."

I sip my tea and smile. "I have nothing but time, mylord." I let escape a small giggle, and in a second, we're both laughing. We could never keep it up long. After we settle down I get back to the issues at hand. "You seem tired."

"I am. Hit wizard training, mind arts and an infant."

"You're reminding me of myself."

"I would too, but there are no books in there. It's all hard practice and lectures. Thank Merlin."

"So, they are actually teaching you how to fight? Talk about a day late..."

"Right. It's not just plain fighting, though. Small unit tactics, field healing, interrogation, wards,..."

I smile, with a little envy. "My..."

He shakes his head and interrupts me. "You wouldn't like it. Too rough-and-ready."

"But you're loving it."

"I guess..."

"Mind arts?"

"Something came up with Andromeda. I need better legillimency. Fast. So Anais is training me, basically increasing my sensitivity. And there is the problem."

"The problem."

He nods and grabs a scone. "I have my sensitivity set to wide open. I'm catching surface feelings and stray thoughts from everyone I cross my eyes with. Anais says I will integrate legillimency and occlumency later, and gain more control, but, right now, I'm just trying to avoid eye contact with people."

"So? Ginny?"

"I came to Hogsmead to make it official." He suddenly looks sad and worn. "You know. We've been snogging and we dated a couple of times, but we didn't talk about it. We were never big on talking..."

"Ginevra is a very physical girl." My contempt for the little tramp probably shows more then I intended. Harry lifts his head in surprise.

"Isn't she your best friend?"

I snort. "I have one friend."

He nods, and his lips curl up a bit. "That makes it easier. Anyways, I kiss her, put both my hands on her shoulders and look into her eyes, ready to ask her if she would be my girlfriend."

He makes a dramatic pause. Harry is a riveting storyteller and an awful tease. The pause stretches and my patience snaps. "And?"

He crosses his legs and nibbles his scone. "She has no natural defenses. None."

"What?" That doesn't sound possible.

"I suspect it's the possession by the Diary. They never took her to a healer, you know? Albus dissuaded them. Protecting his secrets for the greater good, the miserable wanker."

I nod. I despise the dead old goat almost as much as Harry does. "So, you mind raped her."

"Well... yeah."

I stare at him. He seems a little sorry. I decide to leave that issue aside for now. "What did you see?"

"Everything. She basically sucked me right in. Her plans, her dreams, her little secrets, everything."

"A happy ending with her prince Harry in her arms."

"That too. She finds me attractive. Straightlaced. A bit of an exhibitionist, what a surprise. Dislikes the mere idea of oral sex."

How can anyone not like oral sex? "So, what's the catch?"

"A lot of jealousy and anger.. Not a big surprise either"

I blink once, twice. "So?"

"She's a little angry at me for leaving Hogwarts and her. Mostly she hates Teddy and Andromeda for taking me away. Really, really jealous. She's angry at you too. She just hides it all."

I shake my head. "She sure had me fooled. I saw she was anxious and insecure. But hating your godson?."

"He will always be a big part of my life. I can't be serious about anyone who won't accept him. And no matter how much I'd enjoy it, I can't have a meaningless fling with Ginny."

"Too much baggage."

"That's right."

"How did you break it up? What did you say to her?"

"That we couldn't be together. That I am the wrong guy for her."

I snicker. "You're the worst liar. She certainly knew you weren't being straight with her." The slap sounds a little more justified now.

He shrugs. "The truth would have been worse."

"I'm not so sure. I don't mean you owning up to mind rape. You should have found a way to expose her true feeling for Teddy and then ended it. As it stands, she has no real closure. She won't just accept this."

He sighs. "I know."

I sit back and sip my tea, thinking about what he told me. "Out of curiosity, how did you get all of that from a probe?"

"It wasn't just a probe. We were stuck there for over a minute. " He looks sad. "I feel like such an idiot. I should have known better."

I get up and stand behind him, hands on his shoulders. "You're eighteen. You can be forgiven for thinking with the wrong head sometimes."

He gives a little barking laugh, turns around and grabs me by the waist, pulling me to his lap. "I'm actually kinda relieved. Like I dodged a bludgeoner."

"I suppose you did." I relax against his chest, enjoying the physical comfort. I want to ask him to check my mind. Maybe he could see what's been wrong with me. But I don't want to add to his burdens. Next time, I promise myself. Next time I see him. I recall my other promise. "Daphne Greengrass wants to talk to you. Family business." He gives me a puzzled look. "She asked politely. Maybe you should see her."

He frowns and smirks a bit. "I'm really bad at pureblood politics, Hermione. And Andromeda is not available to help."

"Just talk, Harry. Don't sign or promise anything."

He frowns. "You're underestimating the pitfalls."

"Maybe Neville or Susan could help you?"

"That's not a bad idea." He feels a little restless under me, so I get up and sit on my chair. Harry gets up and paces for a moment. "She could be a valuable ally. Would you mind running this by Susan? We can use Kreacher to exchange messages."

"Why Susan?"

"She's a little more ruthless than Neville." He pauses a bit. "Greengrass is scary."

"So are you."

He laughs a bit. "I'm not duelling her... isn't she the best student in our year, after you?"

"It's a toss-up between her and Padma. She's better at practicals than either one of us. Second only to you, as a matter of fact. Best brewer in our year, though."

"See? Scary smart..."

I smile. "Sexy too." I'm pretty sure I've seen a little fantasy or two featuring the ice-queen in Harry's fertile mind.

He also smiles. "Right."

I get up and grab him in a hug. Not a tight one. I also suffer a brain short circuit. I whisper in his ear. "Do you need a friendly shag?"

Harry stiffens up, steps back and looks me in the eyes. I feel his probe in my defenses, gentle and powerful at the same time, and I shudder. He sighs and speaks softly. "You're the one who said friend to lover is easy, and lover back to friend is hard. We've been doing fine so far."

I know I shouldn't have offered. It's unfair and selfish. I deflate a bit. "I'm sorry..."

He smiles. "Hey! I didn't say no."

I look into his eyes and smile back. "I guess you didn't."

"How about maybe later? We'll talk over the break."

"All right." I'm both embarrassed and glad. Who says I can't be stupidly impulsive? I'm a Gryf, after all. Harry is the one the hat wanted in Slytherin. I apparate back to the village, feeling a little lighter and I go hunt for Susan.

Fleur

There's soft moaning behind the closed door. I knock, twice, and there's no reply. I open the door slowly and walk in. It's a very girly room. A canopy bed, stuffed animals and books on a large bookcase. Clothes everywhere. On her bedstand, three pictures. Our parents, with baby Elle in Papa's arms, The two of us, embracing the day before I left for my last year in school. And fourteen-year-old Harry Potter holding a golden egg and smiling. The smile doesn't reach his eyes.

She's curled up on top of the covers, back towards the door. I can't see it, but I know Toti, her plush elephant, is crushed against her chest. She stops her moaning. "Maman?"

"It's Fleur, Elle." I sit on the bed and touch her shoulder. "How is it going?"

"It hurts. Everywhere."

It's the Change. You seem to age six years in two weeks. I remember vividly. Growing two feet in two weeks was no picnic. Plus extreme mood swings, bouts of uncontrollable magic... I spent it in the infirmary, and nearly burned the place down. Now the Headmistress knows better. "The first week is the worse."

"I look like an ugly stick figure."

"First you get the height, then the curves. Don't worry."

She sighs. "It's is early. But I'm glad. I was tired of looking like a little girl."

I say nothing. Her life is going to change a lot. It's annoying to be fourteen and be treated like a little girl. But the looks, plus the out-of-control allure of a newly mature Veela take annoying to a completely different level. But then, Elle is liked, in a way that I wasn't. She's sweet, patient, generous and she loves being Veela. Maybe the change won't be so hard on her. I hope it won't. "I'm here for you, love."

"I know." She uncurls a bit and pats down the bed. "Please?"

"Sure." I lie next to her, and let her cuddle in my arms. It's so strange. She's so big. I feel her twitching as pain hits her. I can also feel her magic curling around. She's going to be a powerful Veela, like Maman.

We lay quiet for a while, and I feel her breathing slow down, like she has fallen asleep. But she hasn't. She tenses a bit as she whispers. "Fleur?"

"Yes?"

"There's going to be a ball for my birthday."

It's tradition for the first birthday after the Change. "I know." Two weeks after New Year. "Maman is already planning."

"Do you think I could invite Harry?"

I can't help it but smile. She wants to show off for her hero."Of course. I'll deliver the invitation myself."

She relaxes. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

+O+O+O+O+O+

Behind the Chateau there is a small stone-paved patio, where we usually have breakfast over the summer. The hill falls steeply beyond it, so you get a broad view. To the west, vineyards, looking like an army of short crooked soldiers on parade this time of the year, and the production buildings. To the east, the woods, and the creek at a distance. There's a wall at the edge, with a smooth broad top. My favorite place to sit and brood.

Half an hour past sunset, it's still light. Wisps of high clouds, reds and blues and a chill wind sets my hair afloat. I hate rain, but I actually enjoy dry cold. A patter of steps behind me, and Maman sits next to me, keeping a little space between us. She sits quietly for a while, taking in the scenery. "You missed dinner."

"I'm sorry. I wasn't hungry."

A soft caress on my shoulder. "You're troubled, ma petite. Did anything happen in Greece?"

I shake my head. "Not really." Maman never really approved of William. The sad part is that I now begin to agree with her. But I'm not telling her that. "The visit went well."

"Then what is it?"

"My constant struggle. Veela and witch. And I'm worried about Elle."

She snickers. "Gabrielle will be fine. We are creatures of fire and air, ma petite. You favor fire, you need to burn your way. Like me, Gabrielle prefers air. Flow around to where she wants to go. Blaze and breeze, my two treasures."

I sigh. I have no use for her wisdom, but I still enjoy listening to it. "Still, they are not kind to us."

"Then we must be kind to ourselves, non? How about dessert? I think we have some mousse au chocolat left."

My stomach makes a very unladylike noise. Maman laughs, and then I do. "I guess I've been betrayed."

She calls a house elf, and soon I'm enjoying the velvety sweetness, as she sips some clear digestif. "When are you going back?"

"Tomorrow, after lunch. I'm taking the train."

She lifts an eyebrow in surprise. "The train?"

"Yes, the muggle train. It goes through a huge tunnel under the English Channel."

"Oh."

I make an exasperated gesture with my spoon. "It's fast, silent, comfortable and very civilized, Maman."

She looks doubtful. "Muggles can be very clever, I suppose. Is it safe?"

"Perfectly safe."

She nods. "I must tell Bastien. Maybe we can use this train next time we visit."

My turn to raise an eyebrow. "Any plans?"

"Maman is making noises. She misses her Anais." Grandmaman and Tante Anais are like many old Veela couples. Separate houses and nearly independent lives. But the passion between them is pure fire. They've been together since the Grindlewald war. They got pregnant at the same time, and, I suspect, by the same wizard. Tante Anais' baby was a boy, and she lost it early, as it happens with most such pregnancies. They raised Maman as a couple.

"Ah." I wonder for a moment how Harry and Tante Anais are getting along. Probably very well, knowing them both. I try to sound earnest. "Please come. I'd love to see you all before Yule."

"We'll see." She holds my hands on hers. Her hands are strong and rough from her craft, and feel very warm. "I know you're troubled, ma petite. If you won't talk to me, talk to Anais. Maman and I are Veela first, and witches a distant second. Anais is like you, a witch that happens do be Veela. She's found the balance which I think you are looking for."

I nod, mostly to avoid an argument. I don't like to talk about my personal problems. With anyone.

Harry

The Gringotts owl arrived right after breakfast. The meeting with the Black family account manager was set for ten, no reason or subject given. The tone is deliberately insulting, but after leading the first successful break in ever, I more-or-less understand. I've been told they will probably be just as rude to my grandchildren. Still, it could be a very bad idea to skip it. I'm going to look for a quiet way to remove my business from Goblin's hands.

I'm wearing a dark Armani suit, with a green and white tie Andromeda gave me out of Ted's closet. A weak glamour alters my appearance a little, so I don't get bothered on the brief walk between the Leaky and Gringotts. To be entirely honest, I look better in muggle clothes.

I get there at ten sharp, and I'm directed to a meeting room, where I find Barchoke, the Black family account manager, sitting behind a large mahogany desk. He stands up and gives a shallow bow. I respond with a nod. "Account Manager Barchoke."

"Lord Black."

"Just Harry, please."

A noise like a rock scraping against another. "You may omit my title, Harry."

"What is the purpose of this meeting?"

"We must await the other party before getting into that." He pushes a parchment at me. "Please touch the parchment with the Black family ring."

I do as required, and the Black family shield appears, together with the numbers of the vaults connected with the Black family trust, and a brief content statement for each. As I run down the numbers I note there has been a large deposit in the main cash vault. I'm still checking the parchment when the door behind me opens and Narcissa Malfoy walks in.

She's wearing open sky blue robes over an elegant muggle ensemble. Peek-through black heels, an ankle-length dark grey skirt that hugs her figure, an ivory silk top and a gorgeous necklace of a silver salamander with ruby red eyes. Light make-up, bright red lipstick and nails and her hair half piled on a bun, half framing her face. Her hair is now plain black, like both her sisters, and she looks like a more delicate version of Andromeda, with sky blue eyes.

A very attractive witch, carefully made up. I'm almost certain the muggle-chic ensemble is for my benefit.

Barchoke bows deeper than he did for me. "Lady Malfoy."

She nods her head in response. "Account Manager Barchoke." and extends a delicate hand in my direction. "Lord Black."

I take her hand by the tips of her fingers and kiss the air above it. "Lady Malfoy." According to Andromeda, she's the least magically powerful, but also the smartest of the Black sisters. Andromeda is scary smart, which makes this witch... very dangerous.

We sit around the desk. Both Barchoke and Narcissa stare at me. I take a page from Albus playbook and just wait, trying to look wise. I probably need wrinkles and a beard for it to work properly. The spontaneous snicker that escapes me at this thought breaks the silent game. Narcissa speaks with a frosty tone. "I'm glad you're amused, my Lord."

I decide honesty might work best. "I was trying to play Dumbledore, but I guess I lack the gravitas."

Barchoke makes a grumbling noise and Narcissa replies in the same frosty tone. "Indeed." I can see the corners of her mouth twitch a bit, though.

This has to be Narcissa's meeting, so I turn to her. "I presume this is not a social call."

"No." She sits back on her chair and crosses her legs. A slow, deliberate motion, seductive and distracting. "I have terminated my marriage contract with Lucius yesterday. His criminal conviction triggered one of the divorce clauses. My dowry was returned to the Black vaults, together with substantial penalties."

I nod. "I've noticed it."

"His execution will allow the Ministry to seize most of the remaining House Malfoy assets." I just nod again. "Right before that, Malfoy Manor was attacked."

I sit up. Several possibilities go through my mind, mostly discarted. It takes unusual resources to attack an ancestral manor. A powerful enemy, or, most likely, a former partner. "File burning?"

She gives Harry a respectful nod. For the first time, it occurs to her Harry might be exactly what the House of Black needs. "I didn't feel the attempt to break the wards, as I don't control them. I woke up yesterday, around three in the morning, with people screaming. Two men, curse-breakers, I presume, caught by the wards. A rotting curse, courtesy of the Dark Lord. It took them three hours to die."

"He was no Lord. Call him Riddle."

She smiles. "Very well, my Lord. I have no information about the dead men. I made inquiries directly to Madam Hammer, but my questions were less than welcome."

Of course. Despite my vouching for her, she's still a well-known blood supremacist with close ties to several death eaters. Not a lot of good will at the Ministry. "House Black and its resources are at your disposal, Aunt Narcissa."

Her laughter is surprisingly coarse. Barchoke makes some amused rasping noises as well. "Andromeda taught you well, my Lord."

"You may call me Harry."

"Cissa." She stands up and looks at Barchoke. He nods. Slowly, she pulls her wand from a holster and points it up. "I, Narcissa Capella Black pledge my service, body, mind, magic and soul, to House Black, and to its Lord Harry James Potter-Black and his descendants, for life and unto death. So mote it be."

No flash yet. The oath requires my acceptance for completion. I look at Barchoke and receive a nod as well. I point my wand up. "I, Harry James Potter-Black, on behalf of House Black, of myself and my descendants, accept Narcissa Capella Black's oath and pledge to protect her and support her in a manner befitting a daughter of House Black, for life and unto death, so mote it be."

A bright silver mist envelops us briefly, and soon disappears.

I turn to the goblin. "Set up a trust vault for Narcissa Black. Start it with the original amount of her dowry, with an yearly deposit of ten thousand galleons. In addition, write a contract specifying suitable terms of service for her as a retainer for House Black."

Barchoke bows and gets up to leave. "Right away, Harry."

The door closes behind the goblin. "Thank you. You are very generous."

I answer in a dry tone. "I suspect you will earn every knut. Is Malfoy Manor safe?"

"No. The wards are damaged, and I don't have the knowledge or the access to repair them."

"You can stay at Grimmaulds place temporarily, if you wish."

"That would probably be best, Harry. Thank you again." She gets up and approaches me, sliding a finger down my arm. "Would you like to make full use of my services, Harry?"

I get up, very close to her, and look into her eyes. Her occlumency barrier is a featureless dark wall that gives nothing away. She's a beautiful woman, and her offer is tempting. But... even with her oath, she is dangerous and I'm vulnerable. Sleeping with her, as pleasant as that might be, would add complications I don't really need. Dumping Ginny, tabling Hermione's sweet offer and now this? "You tempt me, Aunt Cissa. More than I can say." I let my words linger a bit. "But no, thank you."

She takes a step back and smiles. "I understand." There's respect and a bit of regret in her voice.

I make a promise to myself. A club, a pretty muggle, a fancy hotel suite. I'm eighteen, hardworking, decent looking, unattached, rich and too proud to pay for it. Out-of-control legillimency makes it a little too easy, of course, but there is such a thing as excessive virtue. I'm no monk.

+O+O+O+O+O+

Sunlight from the nearly closed windows, and small noises. A whiff of fancy perfume, sweat and sex. I open my eyes. She is standing next to the balcony doors, dressed and ready to leave. Dark chocolate skin, eyes as black as night. An easy laughter, a generous mouth. Dancer's legs and a set of curves to die for. I frown. "Good morning..."

She giggles. "Allison. An excellent morning, James."

"What time is it?"

"A little past six." I stretch and yawn. I don't think we slept more than a couple of hours.

"It's early." I look around and find the phone at the bedstand. "Breakfast?"

"No, thank you." She saunters across the room, the little silver dress a nice contrast against her skin.

She opens the door and delivers her parting line like a movie diva. "My number is on the bedstand. Call me anytime."

Before I can think of an answer, she is gone.

AN: Dudtherman, You were right.