Chapter Text
“Oh,” Lily gasps, her green eyes widening.
She reaches for the bouquet with shaking fingers as if she cannot quite believe that this is real. It is, admittedly, somewhat baffling. Lily must have been the recipient of countless Bouquets of Intent since she came of age. Her physical beauty aside, Lily’s personality is vivacious and engaging.
Lily’s bare fingers brush against Pandora’s gloved ones. Pandora fruitlessly wishes that she had not promised her mother that she would never doff her gloves in company. If she had not, she would finally know if Lily’s hands are as soft as they appear to be.
“They’re beautiful,” Lily says before lifting the bouquet and inhaling deeply.
The purple heliotrope blossoms brush against Lily’s pink lips and Pandora cannot help but wonder if she will one day be granted leave to kiss Lily. She has secretly yearned to do so for quite some time now. If that should someday occur, then Pandora will be most blessed indeed.
“Your answer, Miss Lily?” Pandora asks, hands tightly clasped in her lap.
Lily has given nearly every indication that she is receptive to such an arrangement, but Pandora has been burned by such an assumption before when she sought to court Lady Felicia Flint, only to be politely refused.
“I would be honored to be courted by you, Lady Pandora,” Lily says, her eyes soft with emotion. “This can be our first Courtship Date, if that would please you.”
Pandora beams, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. Her breath catches in her throat as emotions overwhelm her.
She has not been as fortunate in matters of the heart as her brother has. Lucius was engaged to Lady Narcissa Black less than a fortnight after they began courting and bonded with her on the following solstice. In direct contrast to her brother’s good fortune, this is the first time that anyone Pandora has developed even the shallowest of feelings for has shown interest in return.
It feels … miraculous, almost. As if Pandora had yet to realize that she had begun to doubt if anyone would ever want to accept the vast well of love inside her.
“It pleases me very much, Miss Lily,” Pandora replies.
The delightful blush on Lily’s cheeks darkens. It is pale compared to her exquisite scarlet hair, but it complements it all the same.
Lily taps her wand against the table that rests between the two divans; it rises seamlessly from the bottom of the boat as if it and the boat itself were carved from the same massive tree. “A vase with water, please.”
There is only a brief delay before a glass vase half-full of water appears on the table. If the boat did not have runes for guaranteed stability—protection against capsizing—the water would have sloshed from the vase onto the table. As it is, the water level only rises slightly when Lily places her bouquet inside it.
The Industrious House of Thornton is only a barony—having become recognized by Mother Magic and Attributed only two decades past. Yet, they have offered excellent service and a wealth of delights to purebloods for centuries. One of the major draws of letting a boat at the lake on their estate is the near-instantaneous response of those who oversee the hospitality of the boats themselves.
“Would you care for tea, Lady Pandora?” Lily inquires, her wand held aloft. “I’m parched, myself. I could request lunch, if you prefer?”
“Afternoon tea would be lovely,” Pandora says.
She is a bit famished, having skipped brunch on account of her desire to acquire one of the boats to finish her novel. The boats are a popular amusement, especially during the summer months. It is a fault in her character that she will entirely forget nourishment whilst engaging in something that captures her attention. It is particularly bad when Pandora is inventing new spells or experimenting with new uses for gemstones.
Lily taps her willow wand against the table and states, “Afternoon tea for two, please.”
The delay this time is only slightly longer. Then, an exquisite teapot and two teacups appear on the table; they’re lavender with cream ivy patterned along the rims. Two tiered lavender trays—one holding tiny sandwiches and the other bite-sized cakes—arrive immediately after. Finally, a platter of scones with various jams and clotted cream settles on the table. A basket of plates and silverware arrives last.
The spread looks scrumptious.
“Shall I pour the tea?” Lily asks.
Pandora is, technically, the one who initiated the courtship. However, Lily is the one who suggested that this outing should count as their first official Courtship Date. Therefore, Lily is, by the definition of proper etiquette, the hostess.
“Please,” Pandora answers.
It feels as though a swarm of pixies has taken up residence inside Pandora’s stomach. This is her first Courtship Date. It is an entirely new experience for Pandora, even if it is not new to Lily. She dearly hopes that it will go well and she will do nothing to cause Lily to change her mind. Whatever error Master Rabastan Lestrange made, Pandora prays that she does not fall into it herself.
Lily pours two cups of tea—Pandora does not know what kind it is and, frankly, she does not care; she would drink even the vilest of American teas if Lily were the one offering it—and then carries them around the table and sits on the divan at Pandora’s side, less than a handspan of distance between them.
Pandora feels somewhat faint at the closeness as she accepts the teacup with hands that, somehow, do not betray her nerves. She drinks the tea without even tasting it. If anyone should ever ask her what tea was served on her first Courtship Date, she will be unable to give an accurate accounting.
“Do you mind?” Lily asks, gracefully gesturing at where she’s seated.
“Not at all,” Pandora replies, flushing at the breathiness of her voice.
Technically, they are in a public setting, even if the other boats are quite a distance away. There is no official need for a chaperone in what counts as a public setting, where they are within eyesight of so many other purebloods. Pandora has no intention of behaving improperly, either. Yet, the entire situation feels emotionally overwhelming all the same.
Lily is close enough to touch, to kiss, and—
They converse about how their respective summers have been as they partake in the afternoon tea. It’s a breath of fresh air. There’s nothing stilted, no aggrandizing statements, not even a hint of speculation on the current drawing room gossip of pureblood society.
Pandora and Lily speak of books, of spells, of magic—shared interests, instead of shared acquaintances.
Pandora enjoys their conversation even more than she does the miniature chocolate raspberry cheesecakes, of which she eats three. They are her favorite dessert and it is a mark in favor of the Thorntons that they have her preferences so thoroughly notated in order to provide exceptional service.
“To be honest,” Lily says, after sending the remaining food and dishes back to whence they came, “you aren’t what I expected, Lady Pandora.”
Pandora almost winces. She is well aware that she cultivated a reputation of being polite, but distant while at Hogwarts. It wasn’t intentional, merely a side effect of her avaricious need to study, to learn as much as she possibly could, all while shunning frivolous conversation. Why should she waste precious time gossiping about which pureblood wizard had caught Miss Rita Skeeter’s interest when she could be learning the rune work necessary to invent a new ritual? Especially since Pandora hasn’t the slightest bit of romantic interest in wizards at all.
Her refusal to engage in such conversations resulted in many students assuming that she believes herself too lofty to bestow them with her attention.
“I’ve no interest in gossip,” Pandora says. “Some Ravenclaws focus their pursuit of knowledge on social knowledge. My dislike of participating in such conversations led to—” Pandora waves a hand elegantly as if her reputation were something visible for Lily to view.
Pandora does not necessarily think poorly of witches who heavily invest themselves in the society part of pureblood society, but she does think poorly of them for judging her so harshly for not sharing their interests and inclinations.
“I do not believe I would like you even half as much if you did,” Lily replies.
That is no surprise to Pandora.
Even while attempting to avoid them as much as possible, in a school, it’s impossible to avoid overhearing rumors entirely. Pandora knows for a fact that Lily was the subject of a great many rumors at Hogwarts—first for Heir James Potter’s marked interest in her before she was recognized as a New Blood by Mother Magic, then for her queer friendship with a poor Slytherin boy—whose pureblood mother married a Muggle, of all unthinkable things—and the shock that rippled through the student body when she was not named a New Blood by Mother Magic until shortly after her sixteenth birthday, leading to endless speculation on why she waited so long to make her vows when everyone knew her grasp of the etiquette and customs was impeccable. And, of course, the rumormongering increased exponentially when she accepted an offer for a Courtship Date from Master Rabastan Lestrange after repeatedly refusing Heir Potter.
Pandora smiles at Lily, feeling unexpectedly validated that someone—the witch she likes in particular—appreciates this aspect of her personality which has been derided many times in the past.
“You, on the other hand,” Pandora says, tracing her eyes over Lily’s scarlet hair, which is swept atop her head in a large, braided bun, “are exactly what I expected, Miss Lily.”
As beautiful on the outside as she is on the inside. Quietly courageous every day; loudly courageous when required. Intelligent, but not arrogant about it. Kind, but not submissive to the will of others.
Lily reaches over and twines her fingers with Pandora’s. Pandora’s heart stutters in her chest and if she had the presence of mind to cast a wandless, wordless glamor charm to disguise how rubicund her cheeks must now be, she would have done so. As it is, her always active mind is merely endlessly repeating, Lily is holding my hand.
“I have enjoyed our afternoon together a great deal, so far,” Lily says forthrightly, without hesitation. “I should greatly like to see where this courtship leads us once our outing ends.”
Pandora’s heart lurches.
Lily wants to see her again. She wants to continue their courtship. She wants to learn more about Pandora—to see if they will be compatible as bonded partners. She is open to the possibility of being Pandora’s lady-wife, of being Lady Lily Malfoy née Evans.
Pandora desires that desperately.
“I will do my utmost to assure you of my sincerity and affection,” Pandora says when her voice finally feels like translating her thoughts into socially acceptable words. It would not do to frighten Lily with the fervor of her feelings. Not everyone falls in love as ardently and swiftly as a Malfoy.
Lily brushes her bare thumb against the back of Pandora’s glove and says, “I shall eagerly anticipate your efforts, Lady Pandora.”