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The village wasn't on most maps.
At least, not the important ones.
That had been the entire point.
Draco had spent nearly two weeks searching for somewhere nobody would care about him. Somewhere far enough from London that reporters wouldn't recognize his name. Somewhere quiet enough that he could finally hear his own thoughts.
That last part had turned out to be a mistake.
His thoughts were terrible company.
The cottage he'd rented sat near the edge of the village, overlooking a stretch of grey coastline and endless sea. It was small, old, and constantly smelled faintly of salt.
Perfect.
Or at least it would've been perfect if he could sleep.
Three nights.
Three nights in the cottage and he'd barely managed a few hours.
Every time he closed his eyes, his mind refused to cooperate.
Not always nightmares.
Sometimes memories.
Sometimes regrets.
Sometimes nothing at all.
Just silence.
The sort of silence that made it impossible to think about anything else.
Which was exactly how Draco found himself walking through the village at seven o'clock on a cold Monday morning.
The streets were mostly empty.
A few shopkeepers were opening their doors.
A fisherman was carrying supplies toward the harbor.
The sky threatened rain.
Again.
Draco shoved his hands deeper into his coat pockets and continued walking.
Then he saw the café.
It sat on a corner near the waterfront.
Small.
Warm-looking.
The windows fogged slightly from the heat inside.
A wooden sign hung above the entrance.
The Seaglass Café.
Draco stared at it for a moment.
Then walked inside.
A bell chimed above the door.
Immediately, warmth wrapped around him.
The scent of coffee filled the air.
Fresh pastries.
Vanilla.
Something sweet.
The place was nearly empty.
Only two occupied tables.
Soft music drifted through hidden speakers.
For the first time all morning, Draco felt himself relax slightly.
Then a voice called from behind the counter.
"Good morning."
Draco looked up.
And forgot what he'd been about to say.
Not because she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.
Life wasn't a romance novel.
But she was pretty.
Very pretty.
Warm brown eyes.
Soft blonde hair pulled into a loose ponytail.
A smile that seemed entirely effortless.
And, most dangerously of all, she looked genuinely happy to be there.
A concept Draco had never fully understood.
The woman set down the cloth she'd been using to wipe the counter.
"What can I get you?"
Draco approached.
Still slightly distracted.
"Coffee."
One eyebrow lifted.
"Coffee?"
He frowned.
"Yes."
A smile tugged at her lips.
"That's not usually how people introduce themselves."
For the first time that day, Draco almost smiled.
Almost.
"Draco."
The woman paused.
Only briefly.
But Draco noticed.
People usually reacted to his name.
Especially once they learned his surname.
Questions.
Recognition.
Judgment.
Something.
Instead, her smile widened.
"That's a beautiful name."
Draco blinked.
"What?"
"I said it's a beautiful name."
She shrugged lightly.
"As names go, it's one of my favorites."
For a moment, Draco simply stared.
The response was so unexpected that his brain seemed unable to process it.
The woman tilted her head.
"You look surprised."
"A little."
"Why?"
Because nobody had ever said that before.
Not once in twenty-four years.
Not like that.
Not casually.
Not sincerely.
Draco looked away first.
"No reason."
The woman clearly didn't believe him.
Thankfully, she let it go.
"Well, Draco."
The way she said his name sounded strangely nice.
"I still think it's a beautiful name."
Then she grabbed a cup.
"What size coffee?"
Draco found himself answering automatically.
"Medium."
"Excellent choice."
"You say that to everyone?"
"Only the intelligent ones."
Draco stared.
The woman grinned.
And Merlin.
That grin was dangerous.
A few minutes later, she returned with his drink.
"There you are, handsome."
Draco nearly dropped the cup.
The woman placed it on the counter.
Completely unfazed.
As though she hadn't just caused his brain to stop functioning.
For several seconds, he simply looked at her.
Then:
"Did you just call me handsome?"
She looked genuinely confused.
"Would you prefer grumpy?"
Draco opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
Nothing came out.
The woman laughed.
A bright, easy sound that filled the café.
"Handsome it is."
Draco had absolutely no idea what to do with that.
"Do you flirt with all your customers?"
Her eyes sparkled.
"Oh, definitely not."
Something unpleasantly hopeful stirred in his chest.
Then she continued.
"I only flirt with the handsome ones."
Draco stared at her.
The woman smiled sweetly.
Then pointed toward an empty table.
"Go sit down before you short-circuit."
For the first time in days, a laugh escaped him.
Small.
Brief.
But real.
The woman's expression softened.
Just slightly.
As though she'd won something.
Draco wasn't entirely sure she hadn't.
As he walked toward the window seat overlooking the sea, he caught himself glancing back toward the counter.
The woman was already helping another customer.
Still smiling.
Still talking.
Still completely unaware that she'd managed to improve his morning in less than ten minutes.
Draco wrapped both hands around his coffee.
And, for the first time since arriving in the village, found himself looking forward to tomorrow.
Draco told himself it was the coffee.
The coffee was good.
Consistently good.
Better than most places he'd visited in London.
That was the reason he returned the next day.
And the day after that.
And the day after that.
It had absolutely nothing to do with Lucy Bennett.
Nothing at all.
Unfortunately, even Draco didn't believe that anymore.
Ten days after their first meeting, the bell above the café door chimed.
Lucy looked up from the espresso machine.
A smile immediately appeared.
"Morning, handsome."
Draco sighed.
"Please stop calling me that."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I enjoy watching you suffer."
Draco narrowed his eyes.
Lucy looked delighted.
A dangerous woman.
An extremely dangerous woman.
"Your usual?"
The question stopped him.
Draco blinked.
"My usual?"
Lucy nodded.
"Large coffee."
She pointed.
"One sugar."
Another point.
"Window seat."
A final point.
"And you always pretend you don't like the blueberry muffins before buying one anyway."
Draco stared.
Then slowly looked toward the display case.
There was, in fact, a blueberry muffin in the small paper bag she was already holding.
"You're making assumptions."
Lucy handed it over.
"You literally bought one every day this week."
A pause.
"That feels invasive."
"I work in customer service."
"That's not an answer."
"It absolutely is."
Merlin.
Draco took the bag.
Lucy looked entirely too pleased with herself.
As usual.
The worst part?
She was right.
The window seat had become his seat.
Not officially.
Nobody had assigned it to him.
But every morning he sat there.
Every morning he watched the sea.
Every morning Lucy appeared with coffee before he even had to ask.
It was becoming a routine.
And Draco was discovering that routines were dangerous.
Especially when they involved smiling waitresses.
Twenty minutes later, Lucy appeared beside his table.
The café was quiet.
Only three customers remained.
"Mind if I sit?"
"You usually do without asking."
"Good."
And then she sat down anyway.
Draco wasn't even surprised.
Lucy rested her chin on her hand.
"You're less grumpy now."
"I'm not grumpy."
Lucy laughed.
The liar.
"You absolutely were."
"I wasn't."
"You looked like someone had personally declared war on your happiness."
Draco snorted.
Actually snorted.
Lucy immediately pointed at him.
"There."
"What?"
"That."
"What?"
"You're smiling."
Draco instantly stopped.
Lucy looked triumphant.
"I knew it."
"You knew what?"
"You're secretly nice."
The accusation was outrageous.
Draco decided not to respond.
Mostly because she was still smiling at him.
And that was becoming increasingly distracting.
The next few days passed much the same.
Coffee.
Conversation.
Sarcasm.
Draco found himself learning things about Lucy.
Small things.
She hated seagulls.
Which was unfortunate considering she lived beside the ocean.
She loved old books.
She couldn't sing.
At all.
She burned toast regularly.
And she talked with her hands whenever she got excited.
Draco noticed all of it.
Which was probably concerning.
Very concerning.
One rainy afternoon, the café remained nearly empty.
Lucy stood behind the counter filling out paperwork.
Draco sat near the window reading.
Or pretending to read.
Mostly pretending.
Lucy frowned suddenly.
Then looked up.
"Wait."
Draco glanced over.
"What?"
"You never told me your last name."
The words hit harder than they should have.
Immediately, something tightened in his chest.
Ah.
There it was.
Sooner or later it always happened.
People always asked.
And things usually became complicated afterward.
Lucy spun the pen between her fingers.
"Well?"
Draco considered lying.
Briefly.
Then decided he was tired.
"Malfoy."
Silence.
Lucy blinked.
"Oh."
There it was.
Draco looked back at his book.
Waiting.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Then...
"That's brilliant."
Draco looked up.
"What?"
Lucy pointed dramatically.
"Draco Malfoy."
He frowned.
"What about it?"
"You have two incredibly cool names."
Silence.
Lucy continued.
"If I'm being completely honest, I'm a little jealous."
Draco stared.
"You are jealous...?"
"Absolutely."
"Of my name?"
"Yes."
Draco blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then a third time for good measure.
Lucy looked confused.
"What?"
"That's not a normal reaction."
Lucy shrugged.
"Maybe not."
Then she smiled.
"But seriously."
She pointed again.
"Draco Malfoy sounds like the main character in a fantasy novel."
For a moment, Draco genuinely didn't know what to say.
Because it kinda was true in a way.
Because she wasn't impressed.
She wasn't nervous.
She wasn't judging him.
She simply thought his name sounded cool.
That was it.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Something inside his chest shifted.
Just slightly.
Dangerously.
Lucy returned to her paperwork.
Completely unaware of the damage she'd just done.
A few minutes later she looked up again.
"Besides."
Draco immediately became suspicious.
"Besides what?"
Lucy smiled.
"It's fitting."
"What is?"
"The handsome face."
Draco nearly dropped his coffee.
Again.
"Lucy."
"Yes?"
"You cannot keep saying things like that."
Her grin widened.
"Oh, I absolutely can."
Merlin help him.
The woman was impossible.
And somehow, despite every warning bell in his head, despite every reason he should know better...
Draco found himself looking forward to seeing her tomorrow.
And the day after that.
And the day after that.
Which, unfortunately, was becoming a problem.
A very beautiful problem.
The next morning felt wrong.
Draco noticed it before he even stepped inside.
Before the bell above the café door chimed.
Before he saw Lucy.
Before he received his coffee.
Something felt off.
The village was quieter than usual.
The sky hung low and grey.
Rain threatened in the distance.
The wind carried the scent of an approaching storm.
Draco pushed open the door.
The familiar bell rang overhead.
Warmth greeted him immediately.
Coffee.
Pastries.
Vanilla.
Home.
The thought appeared unexpectedly.
Draco immediately chose to ignore it.
Lucy stood behind the counter.
Smiling.
Talking to a customer.
Looking exactly the same as always.
And yet.
Something wasn't right.
The smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
The difference was subtle.
Tiny.
Most people would've missed it.
Draco didn't.
Her gaze flicked toward the door the moment he entered.
Then relaxed.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
The customer eventually left.
Lucy looked up.
And smiled.
A real smile this time.
"Morning, handsome."
Draco removed his coat.
"Morning."
Lucy immediately pointed.
"You're getting used to it."
"What?"
"The nickname."
Draco frowned.
"No, I'm not."
"You didn't complain."
"I've learned it's pointless."
Lucy looked entirely too pleased with that answer.
As usual.
She reached for a cup.
"The usual?"
The words should not have made him as happy as they did.
It was coffee.
Just coffee.
Nothing more.
Unfortunately, Draco was beginning to suspect that wasn't entirely true anymore.
A few minutes later she placed the drink in front of him.
"There you go."
Draco accepted it.
Then paused.
Her hand trembled.
Only slightly.
Just for a second.
Most people would've missed it.
Draco didn't.
Lucy immediately tucked her hands behind her back.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Before he could say anything, another employee appeared from the kitchen.
An older woman.
Mid-fifties.
Kind eyes.
The type of person who looked like she baked cookies for entire neighborhoods.
She glanced between them.
Then laughed.
"Oh good."
Draco frowned.
"What?"
The woman pointed at Lucy.
"She's finally smiling again."
Lucy's expression changed instantly.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
The woman noticed too late.
"Oh."
Silence.
Lucy looked toward the coffee machine.
Very suddenly interested in it.
Draco's eyes narrowed.
The older woman sighed.
"I should get back to work."
Then she disappeared into the kitchen.
Leaving behind a very awkward silence.
Draco waited.
Lucy avoided eye contact.
Draco waited longer.
Eventually:
"What happened?"
Lucy looked up immediately.
"Nothing."
Lie.
An obvious one.
Draco took a sip of coffee.
"Right."
Lucy folded her arms.
"Nothing happened."
"Then why is everyone acting strange?"
Lucy groaned.
A sure sign he was winning.
Excellent.
"It wasn't a big deal."
Draco waited.
Lucy sighed dramatically.
"The village gossip network is unbelievable."
"What happened?"
Another sigh.
Then:
"Two men came into the café yesterday."
Draco's stomach tightened.
He didn't like the sound of that.
Not even a little.
Lucy continued.
"They were drunk."
Even less.
"They were loud."
Still bad.
"And annoying."
Draco nodded.
That tracked.
"What happened after that?"
Lucy hesitated.
Which was answer enough.
Then:
"I chased them out."
Silence.
Draco blinked.
Once.
Twice.
"What?"
Lucy looked vaguely offended.
"I chased them out."
"How?"
A pause.
Then:
"With a frying pan."
Draco stared.
Lucy stared back.
Neither moved.
Finally:
"You hit them?"
"No."
Relief.
Brief relief.
Then Lucy continued.
"I threatened to."
Draco nearly laughed.
Nearly.
Because the image that immediately appeared in his head was ridiculous.
Lucy Bennett.
Armed with a frying pan.
Charging into battle.
Merlin.
"You threatened two drunk men with kitchen equipment."
"It was a very convincing frying pan."
Draco failed to hide the smile that escaped.
Lucy immediately noticed.
"There it is."
"What?"
"The smile."
Draco instantly stopped smiling.
Lucy looked delighted.
Again.
Dangerous woman.
The conversation moved on.
At least on the surface.
But Draco kept noticing things.
Little things.
The way Lucy checked the door whenever it opened.
The way her shoulders tensed whenever unfamiliar customers entered.
The way her hands shook ever so slightly whenever she thought nobody was looking.
Most people wouldn't have noticed.
Draco noticed everything.
Which was becoming a problem.
A very attractive problem.
By closing time, rain had started falling.
Not heavily.
Just enough.
The streets outside had emptied.
Most villagers were already home.
Lucy locked the front door.
Flipped the sign to CLOSED.
Then began cleaning tables.
Draco remained exactly where he was.
Lucy noticed after five minutes.
Then ten.
Then fifteen.
Finally she approached.
"You know we're closed, right?"
Draco looked up from his book.
"Really?"
"Don't."
"What?"
"That."
"What?"
Lucy pointed at him.
"The innocent act."
Draco looked offended.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Liar."
Draco smiled.
Lucy immediately pointed.
"There it is again."
Merlin.
She was impossible.
Eventually Lucy grabbed her coat.
Turned off the final lights.
And headed outside.
The rain had grown heavier.
The street lamps cast soft golden reflections across the wet pavement.
Lucy pulled her coat tighter.
Then stopped.
Because Draco stood beside her.
Apparently waiting.
Lucy blinked.
"What are you doing?"
Draco looked down the street.
"Walking."
Suspicious.
Very suspicious.
Lucy narrowed her eyes.
"You live in the opposite direction."
A pause.
Then:
"Strange."
Lucy stared.
Actually stared.
Draco remained completely serious.
Which somehow made it funnier.
A reluctant laugh escaped her.
"The worst excuse I've ever heard."
Draco nodded.
"Probably."
For a moment neither moved.
Rain fell softly around them.
The village remained quiet.
Safe.
And suddenly Lucy understood.
Not the excuse.
The reason.
Her chest tightened unexpectedly.
Because Draco knew.
Somehow.
He knew she'd been frightened.
And he also knew she would never admit it.
So instead of asking.
Instead of pushing.
Instead of making a fuss.
He simply showed up.
Lucy looked away quickly.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
"Fine."
Draco raised an eyebrow.
"Fine?"
"You can walk me home."
The corner of his mouth twitched.
Victory.
The smug idiot.
Together they started down the quiet street.
Neither mentioning the men.
Neither mentioning the shaking hands.
Neither mentioning the fear.
And somehow, Lucy was grateful for that.
Because for the first time since yesterday afternoon...
She didn't feel quite so alone.
The next morning, Draco arrived at exactly eight seventeen.
Not eight fifteen.
Not eight twenty.
Eight seventeen.
Not because he'd been thinking about when Lucy usually started her shift.
Not because he'd spent an embarrassing amount of time noticing her routines.
Not because he'd discovered she always tied her apron at exactly eight sixteen.
Absolutely not.
Unfortunately, even he wasn't convinced anymore.
The bell above the café door chimed.
Lucy looked up from behind the counter.
A smile appeared instantly.
And Draco felt something warm settle in his chest.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
"Morning, handsome."
"There she is."
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Lucy blinked.
Draco blinked.
Both of them stared.
For one horrible second, nobody spoke.
Then Lucy smiled.
Slowly.
"Oh?"
Draco immediately regretted everything.
"I take it back."
"No."
Unfortunately, her grin only widened.
"You can't."
Merlin help him.
The woman was impossible.
Twenty minutes later, Draco sat in his usual seat by the window.
The sea stretched endlessly beyond the glass.
Grey waves rolled beneath an equally grey sky.
Rain tapped softly against the windows.
The village felt sleepy.
Quiet.
Comfortable.
Which was becoming a problem.
Because Draco was beginning to associate all three things with Lucy Bennett.
A very serious problem.
Lucy appeared beside his table carrying a fresh cup of coffee.
"There."
Draco accepted it.
Then paused.
She looked tired.
Not physically exhausted.
Just...
tired.
The kind of tired that settled behind someone's eyes.
Draco noticed immediately.
Of course he did.
Lucy noticed him noticing.
Immediately.
Of course she did.
"No."
Draco looked up.
"No what?"
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
Lucy pointed at him.
"Whatever observation you're about to make."
Draco considered lying.
Briefly.
Then:
"You look tired."
Lucy closed her eyes.
"See?"
"What?"
"That."
Draco looked completely innocent.
A terrible performance.
Lucy sighed dramatically.
"You know, most people just say hello."
"I did."
"You analyzed me first."
Draco sipped his coffee.
Lucy looked deeply offended.
As though she hadn't walked directly into that one.
The rest of the morning passed peacefully.
Customers came and went.
Rain continued falling.
And somehow Draco stayed much longer than intended.
Again.
At some point Lucy sat opposite him.
Neither questioned it anymore.
It had simply become normal.
Which was probably another problem.
"Can I ask you something?"
Draco immediately became suspicious.
"That depends."
"On what?"
"Whether I want to answer."
Lucy rolled her eyes.
"Fair."
Then:
"What were you like as a teenager?"
Draco nearly choked on his coffee.
"What kind of question is that?"
"A good one."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Draco."
Merlin.
She'd started using his name like a weapon.
Entirely unfair.
"Worse."
Lucy blinked.
"What?"
"You asked what I was like."
"And?"
Draco leaned back in his chair.
"I was worse."
Lucy laughed.
"No."
"Yes."
"Impossible."
"You underestimate me."
The grin she gave him should've been illegal.
"I don't think I do."
Draco looked toward the sea.
Mostly because looking at Lucy for too long was becoming increasingly dangerous.
The afternoon slipped by.
Then evening.
Then closing time.
The rain never stopped.
By seven o'clock the café sat empty.
Only Lucy and Draco remained.
Lucy was counting inventory behind the counter.
Draco was reading.
Or pretending to.
Mostly pretending.
Finally Lucy looked up.
"Can I ask you something else?"
Draco groaned.
"A second question?"
"Terrifying, I know."
"What is it?"
Lucy hesitated.
Which immediately got his attention.
Then:
"Do you want to stay?"
Silence.
Draco lowered his book.
Lucy gestured vaguely around the café.
"I still have paperwork."
A pause.
"Stock lists."
Another pause.
"And accounting."
Draco stared.
Lucy stared back.
Neither acknowledged what she'd actually asked.
Which was:
I don't really want to be alone tonight.
Eventually Draco closed his book.
"I suppose."
Lucy smiled.
And for some reason that felt suspiciously like winning.
Several minutes later she stood on a ladder near one of the shelves.
Attempting to reach a box.
Draco watched for approximately five seconds before speaking.
"That seems unsafe."
Lucy didn't look down.
"I do this all the time."
"That isn't reassuring."
"It should be."
"It isn't."
Lucy sighed dramatically.
"You worry too much."
Before Draco could respond, her foot slipped.
Only slightly.
But enough.
The ladder wobbled.
Lucy made a very undignified noise.
And suddenly gravity became everyone's problem.
Draco moved without thinking.
One second she was falling.
The next she wasn't.
Because his hands were around her waist.
Holding her steady.
The café became very quiet.
Very.
Lucy looked down.
Draco looked up.
Neither moved.
Neither seemed particularly interested in moving.
Dangerous.
Extremely dangerous.
Then Lucy cleared her throat.
"Hi."
Draco stared.
"Hi."
Brilliant conversation.
Truly exceptional.
Eventually Lucy stepped back.
Very carefully.
Her cheeks looked suspiciously pink.
Draco suddenly found the floor fascinating.
For entirely unrelated reasons.
Obviously.
Several minutes passed before either managed a normal conversation again.
Eventually Lucy returned to her paperwork.
Draco returned to pretending to read.
Neither fooled anyone.
Not even themselves.
Later, while rain streaked down the windows, Lucy spoke again.
Softer this time.
"Why did you really come here?"
The question settled between them.
Different from the others.
More important.
Draco looked toward the sea.
The dark water.
The distant horizon.
The answer sat on the tip of his tongue.
Because he was tired.
Because he couldn't sleep.
Because some memories followed him everywhere.
Because sometimes London felt too crowded with ghosts.
Instead he said nothing.
And for a moment Lucy simply watched him.
Then nodded.
"Okay."
No pushing.
No pressure.
No demands.
Just okay.
Somehow that affected him more than any question could have.
When the final paperwork was finished, Lucy grabbed her coat.
The rain had finally stopped.
The village streets glistened beneath the lamps.
Outside, she paused.
Then smiled.
"See you tomorrow."
The words came naturally now.
Like breathing.
Like routine.
Like certainty.
Draco looked at her.
At the warm light spilling from the café behind her.
At the smile he was beginning to look for every morning.
And answered honestly.
"Of course."
No sarcasm.
No teasing.
No deflection.
Just truth.
Lucy seemed surprised by it.
Only for a moment.
Then she smiled again.
And walked away.
Draco watched her go.
Longer than he should have.
Long enough to realize something deeply inconvenient.
He was no longer returning for the coffee.
And that was becoming a very serious problem.
At nine o'clock, Lucy wasn't waiting for Draco.
At least, that was what she told herself.
The café was busy.
There were customers to serve.
Tables to clean.
Orders to take.
Plenty of things to focus on.
So naturally, she glanced at the door every few minutes.
Entirely unrelated.
Obviously.
At nine thirty, she wasn't waiting for him either.
At ten, she definitely wasn't.
At eleven, she was beginning to get annoyed.
Mostly with herself.
Because why did she care?
Draco was a customer.
A friend.
Maybe.
Nothing more.
The bell above the door chimed.
Lucy's head snapped up.
Not Draco.
An elderly woman.
Lucy immediately looked away.
One of her coworkers laughed.
"Waiting for someone?"
"No."
The answer came far too quickly.
The woman laughed harder.
Lucy pointed a warning finger at her.
"Not a word."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were about to."
The woman grinned.
"I absolutely was."
Lucy groaned.
By noon she had checked the door so many times that she lost count.
By three o'clock she was officially worried.
Which was ridiculous.
Completely ridiculous.
Draco was an adult.
He could survive one day without coffee.
Probably.
By closing time, Lucy had convinced herself that she wasn't disappointed.
Not at all.
She was simply curious.
Mildly.
Extremely mildly.
The bell above the door chimed.
Lucy's heart immediately jumped.
Then she became angry with it.
Because that was ridiculous.
Absolutely ridiculous.
Still.
She looked up.
And froze.
Draco stood in the doorway.
For one horrible second, Lucy didn't recognize him.
Not because it wasn't Draco.
But because he looked awful.
His coat was soaked from the rain.
One sleeve was torn.
A bruise darkened the side of his jaw.
And there was a cut just above his eyebrow.
Blood had dried against his skin.
Lucy's stomach dropped.
The café suddenly felt very quiet.
Very.
Draco looked exhausted.
Not physically.
Something deeper.
Something heavier.
His eyes found hers.
And for a moment neither spoke.
Then:
"Hi."
Lucy stared.
Actually stared.
Draco shifted slightly.
"That doesn't look like my coffee."
"Sit down."
The words left her mouth immediately.
Sharp.
Firm.
Not a request.
Draco blinked.
"Lucy..."
"Sit."
Silence.
Then, to her surprise, he listened.
Without arguing.
Without a sarcastic comment.
Without pretending everything was fine.
That worried her more than the injury.
Much more.
Twenty minutes later, the café was officially closed.
The front door locked.
The lights dimmed.
The last customer gone.
Only Lucy and Draco remained.
He sat in one of the chairs near the window.
Lucy stood in front of him holding a first-aid kit.
Neither seemed particularly happy about it.
Especially Draco.
"You know," he began.
"No."
"I wasn't finished."
"I know."
Lucy opened the first-aid kit.
Draco sighed.
Lucy pointed at him.
"Don't."
"What?"
"The dramatic sigh."
"It wasn't dramatic."
"It absolutely was."
Draco looked offended.
Lucy ignored him.
Then gently reached for his face.
The moment her fingers touched his jaw, Draco went very still.
Neither acknowledged it.
Mostly because Lucy's heart had suddenly forgotten how to function.
Which was unhelpful.
Very unhelpful.
The cut wasn't deep.
But it had bled enough to look worse than it was.
Lucy cleaned it carefully.
For several minutes neither spoke.
Rain tapped softly against the windows.
The sea beyond the glass was dark and restless.
Finally:
"What happened?"
Draco looked toward the window.
Not at her.
The answer took too long.
Too long.
Lucy noticed.
Of course she did.
"Draco."
A muscle in his jaw tightened.
Then:
"It's complicated."
Lucy sighed.
"That's never a good sign."
The corner of his mouth twitched.
Briefly.
Then disappeared.
"They're from my past."
The words settled heavily between them.
Lucy frowned.
Draco continued staring toward the sea.
As though the answer existed somewhere out there.
"They don't like the choices I made."
Something in his voice made her chest ache.
Not fear.
Not anger.
Regret.
Exhaustion.
The kind that came from carrying something for a very long time.
Lucy looked at him.
Really looked at him.
At the bruise.
The cut.
The shadows beneath his eyes.
For the first time, she realized there was a version of Draco she had never met.
A version that existed before this village.
Before coffee.
Before sea glass and rainy mornings.
A version carrying things he never talked about.
Lucy could have pushed.
She wanted to.
Instead she quietly set down the bandages.
"You don't have to tell me."
Draco looked at her.
Immediately.
His expression changed.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Enough that Lucy knew she'd said the right thing.
A long silence followed.
Then:
"Thank you."
The words were quiet.
Sincere.
And somehow they felt bigger than they should have.
Lucy smiled softly.
"You're welcome."
Half an hour later, Draco finally left.
The rain had stopped.
The village had gone quiet.
And for some reason, the café felt emptier after he was gone.
Much emptier.
Lucy hated that realization.
Deeply.
Unfortunately, it was true.
That night she couldn't sleep.
At midnight she was still awake.
At one in the morning she was staring at the ceiling.
At two she finally gave up.
The laptop sat on her kitchen table.
Waiting.
Lucy stared at it.
Then opened it.
This was a terrible idea.
A truly terrible idea.
She typed anyway.
Draco Malfoy
The search results appeared instantly.
Lucy blinked.
Then frowned.
Then blinked again.
"What the hell?"
There were articles.
Dozens of them.
More than dozens.
Hundreds.
Some old.
Some recent.
Her eyes skimmed headlines.
The Malfoy Family
The Battle of Hogwarts
The Wizarding World
Lucy froze.
The what?
She clicked.
Read.
Clicked again.
Read more.
And suddenly her quiet kitchen felt very small.
Because apparently
Somehow.
Wizards were real.
Actual wizards.
Magic.
The whole thing.
Lucy stared at the screen.
Then laughed.
A slightly hysterical laugh.
Because surely this was some elaborate joke.
It had to be.
Right?
Then she found the photographs.
And the laughter disappeared.
A much younger Draco stared back at her from the screen.
Sixteen.
Maybe seventeen.
Pale.
Thin.
His face sharper.
Harder.
The confidence she knew was missing.
In its place was something else.
Something she couldn't quite name.
Fear.
Maybe.
Loneliness.
Definitely.
Lucy clicked another article.
Another photograph.
And another.
Each one showed a different version of him.
A teenager.
A boy.
A boy carrying far too much for someone so young.
The Draco she knew smiled.
Rarely.
But he smiled.
The boy in the photographs didn't.
Not once.
Lucy's chest tightened painfully.
Because suddenly the bruise made sense.
The exhaustion made sense.
The way he'd looked at the sea.
The way he'd said:
They're from my past.
She stared at the screen for a very long time.
Then at the photograph of the young man she'd never met.
And for the first time since she'd walked into The Seaglass Café that morning weeks ago, Lucy realized something.
She knew almost nothing about Draco Malfoy.
Almost nothing.
"What the hell, Draco?"
The photograph offered no answer.
Lucy slept for approximately three hours.
Which was three hours more than she expected.
And significantly fewer than she needed.
By morning, her kitchen table looked like the aftermath of a small investigation.
Several open tabs.
Articles.
Photographs.
Interviews.
History pages.
Lucy rubbed her eyes.
The problem wasn't that she didn't believe it anymore.
Unfortunately, she did.
The problem was that she believed it.
Magic.
Wizards.
Entire hidden communities.
Flying brooms.
Schools.
Wars.
And somehow, in the middle of all that insanity, sat one very annoying man who drank coffee every morning.
Lucy stared at another photograph.
This one was older.
Draco couldn't have been more than seventeen.
The expression on his face made her chest hurt.
Because she recognized it.
Not the situation.
Not the world.
The expression.
She'd seen it before.
On exhausted customers.
On people who'd lost family.
On people carrying things they didn't know how to put down.
The difference was that Draco had been a child.
Lucy closed the laptop.
Slowly.
Then dropped her forehead onto the table.
"What have you gotten yourself into, Lucy Bennett?"
No answer came.
Probably for the best.
The next morning, she arrived at the café feeling like she'd lived three separate lives since yesterday.
Unfortunately, the café still expected her to function.
Rude.
Very rude.
The morning rush came and went.
Lucy made coffee.
Served pastries.
Smiled at customers.
All while trying very hard not to think about Draco.
That lasted approximately eleven minutes.
A personal record.
The bell above the door chimed.
Lucy's head snapped up instantly.
And there he was.
Draco Malfoy.
Wizard.
Former student at some magical castle.
Owner of entirely too many secrets.
And somehow still the man who complained when she put too much foam in his coffee.
Life was ridiculous.
Draco paused.
Immediately.
Because something was wrong.
Lucy knew him well enough now to see it.
His shoulders stiffened slightly.
His eyes narrowed.
"You look tired."
Lucy stared.
Actually stared.
Of course that was the first thing he noticed.
Of course it was.
"You got punched."
Draco considered that.
Fair point.
Lucy sighed.
"Your usual?"
Something flickered across his face.
Confusion.
Relief.
Suspicion.
Probably all three.
"Yes."
Lucy nodded.
Then turned toward the coffee machine before she could accidentally ask:
So how long have you been a wizard?
Probably not the ideal opening.
Several minutes later she carried his drink over.
Draco sat at his usual table.
The same one.
Every morning.
The realization felt strangely comforting.
Lucy sat opposite him.
Neither spoke.
Which, for them, was unusual.
Very unusual.
Draco set down his cup.
"What happened?"
Lucy blinked.
"What?"
"You're thinking."
"That's generally how being awake works."
"Not like this."
Damn him.
Damn him and his ridiculous ability to notice everything.
Lucy looked toward the sea.
Grey waves crashed against the shore.
Safe topic.
Safer than Draco.
Nothing was safer than Draco right now.
Unfortunately.
"Can I ask you something?"
Immediately, Draco became suspicious.
"No."
Lucy laughed.
"You don't even know what the question is."
"I've learned that doesn't matter."
Fair.
Very fair.
Lucy folded her arms.
Then decided she was tired of pretending.
Not tired enough to reveal the late-night internet spiral.
But close.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
The question slipped out before she could stop it.
Draco froze.
Completely.
The silence that followed felt different.
Heavier.
Dangerous.
Slowly, very slowly, Draco set down his coffee.
"Tell you what?"
Lucy held his gaze.
For a moment neither looked away.
Then:
"About your world."
Nothing moved.
Nothing.
Even the sound of the café seemed distant.
Draco stared at her.
And Lucy knew.
Immediately.
He understood.
He knew exactly what she meant.
The color drained slightly from his face.
Not much.
Just enough.
"Oh."
The single word carried an entire conversation.
Lucy nodded.
"Yeah."
Another silence.
Longer this time.
Outside, rain began tapping softly against the windows.
Inside, Draco looked like a man trying to decide between running away and jumping off a cliff.
Neither option appeared appealing.
Finally:
"You looked me up."
Lucy winced.
A little.
"Maybe."
"You looked me up."
"Maybe a lot."
Draco closed his eyes.
For one brief moment, he actually looked embarrassed.
Which was somehow adorable.
And irritating.
Mostly adorable.
"I wasn't trying to invade your privacy."
His eyes opened again.
"I know."
Lucy blinked.
Because she expected anger.
Or frustration.
Or disappointment.
Not understanding.
"I couldn't sleep."
Draco actually laughed.
A short, tired laugh.
"That's unfortunate."
"You're one to talk."
His smile faded.
Not completely.
Just enough.
Lucy hesitated.
Then asked the question she'd been carrying since two in the morning.
The question that mattered.
Not about magic.
Not about wands.
Not about secret worlds.
About him.
The boy from the photographs.
The one who looked terrified.
"Was it really that bad?"
Draco went very still.
And suddenly Lucy knew she'd found the real wound.
Not the cut above his eyebrow.
Not the bruise.
This.
The silence stretched.
Long.
Painful.
Then Draco looked out toward the sea.
And for the first time since she'd met him...
He stopped hiding.
Just a little.
"Yes."
The answer was barely above a whisper.
But it was enough.
Enough for Lucy to understand.
Enough for her chest to ache.
Enough for Draco to realize he wanted her to know.
And that frightened him far more than any secret ever had.
Because for the first time in years...
He cared what someone thought after hearing the truth.
And that was a very dangerous thing indeed.
Friday afternoon arrived far too quickly.
At least, that was Lucy's opinion.
Not because she disliked weekends.
Not because she disliked holidays.
Not even because she disliked having two entire days off.
The problem was much simpler.
The café would be closed.
For two days.
And for the first time, that felt strange.
Very strange.
Lucy stood on a small ladder near the front window.
A sign in one hand.
Tape in the other.
CLOSED FOR THE HOLIDAY WEEKEND
She pressed it against the glass.
Stepped back.
Nodded.
Then frowned.
The sign looked perfectly normal.
So why did it feel like she had just made a terrible mistake?
The bell above the door chimed.
Lucy looked up.
Draco.
Of course.
Her stomach immediately did something deeply unhelpful.
She was beginning to dislike her stomach.
A lot.
Draco glanced at the sign.
Then at her.
"Closed?"
"Very observant."
"I try."
Lucy smiled.
The smile he returned was small.
But real.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
For a moment neither spoke.
Then:
"Well."
Lucy immediately hated that word.
It sounded suspiciously like goodbye.
"I suppose I'll see you Monday."
Draco nodded.
"Right."
Silence.
Neither seemed particularly happy with that answer.
Lucy folded her arms.
Then unfolded them.
Then folded them again.
A truly impressive display of emotional stability.
Finally:
"Or..."
Draco looked up.
Lucy immediately regretted everything.
"Or?"
Too late now.
"You could come over tomorrow."
Silence.
Complete silence.
Lucy's brain left her body.
Apparently.
She forced herself to continue.
"For coffee."
Draco stared.
"You work in a café."
"I know."
"You have unlimited access to coffee."
"I am aware."
"Yet you're inviting me over for coffee."
Lucy pointed at him.
"Don't make this weird."
Draco looked delighted.
Which was incredibly rude.
"I wasn't."
Liar.
Complete liar.
Still.
The answer came a second later.
"I'd like that."
And suddenly Lucy was very glad she had asked.
Saturday arrived with rain.
Of course it did.
The sea looked grey.
The sky looked grey.
Everything looked grey.
Everything except Lucy's living room.
The room was warm.
Comfortable.
Books sat stacked on nearly every available surface.
A knitted blanket hung over the back of the sofa.
Plants occupied half the windowsill.
Draco noticed all of it.
Including the fact that it suited her perfectly.
Lucy opened the door.
And Draco forgot what he had been about to say.
Not for the first time.
Probably not for the last.
"Hi."
"Hi."
Brilliant.
Outstanding conversation.
Lucy stepped aside.
"Come in."
The afternoon passed surprisingly easily.
Coffee.
Food.
Conversation.
For the first hour they barely discussed anything serious.
Lucy learned that Draco was absurdly competitive.
Draco learned that Lucy cheated at board games.
Lucy claimed she didn't.
She was lying.
Terribly.
At some point they ended up on the sofa.
Rain tapping softly against the windows.
Warm mugs in their hands.
The conversation drifted.
Slowly.
Naturally.
Toward magic.
Lucy had spent most of the previous night discovering that the world was significantly stranger than she'd believed.
And she had questions.
Many questions.
An alarming number of questions.
Draco discovered this approximately three minutes into the conversation.
"Okay."
He immediately became suspicious.
Lucy leaned forward.
"Tell me more."
"There it is."
"There what is?"
"The look."
"What look?"
"The one that means I'm about to regret answering."
Lucy smiled sweetly.
Draco sighed.
Defeat.
Complete defeat.
"What do you want to know?"
Lucy considered it.
Then:
"Are there magical animals?"
Draco blinked.
Once.
Twice.
"That's your first question?"
"Draco."
"Lucy."
"Answer the question."
Merlin.
The woman was impossible.
"Yes."
Lucy's eyes immediately lit up.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
"Like what?"
Draco thought for a moment.
Then started listing creatures.
"Kneazles."
Lucy nodded.
"What are those?"
"Magical cats."
Immediately:
"I love them."
"Of course you do."
"What else?"
"Nifflers."
Lucy's eyes widened.
"What are Nifflers?"
"They steal shiny objects."
"That's adorable."
"They're a nightmare."
"I love them."
Naturally.
Draco should have known.
Then he made a mistake.
A terrible mistake.
Because without thinking, he casually added:
"Puffskeins."
Lucy froze.
Completely.
"What."
Draco immediately recognized danger.
The kind of danger that came disguised as enthusiasm.
"A Puffskein."
Lucy's mug was forgotten instantly.
"What is a Puffskein?"
Draco tried very hard not to smile.
Failed.
"It's small."
"Okay."
"Round."
Lucy's eyes widened.
"Okay."
"Fluffy."
Lucy made a noise.
An actual noise.
Draco had never heard anything quite like it.
"And?"
"Friendly."
Silence.
Lucy slowly placed both hands against her face.
"No."
Draco blinked.
"No?"
"No."
She pointed dramatically.
"You're telling me there's a magical creature that's fluffy, round, friendly, and called a Puffskein?"
"Yes."
Lucy looked personally offended.
"Why wasn't this the first thing you told me?"
Draco laughed.
Actually laughed.
Because she sounded genuinely upset.
"Most people ask about spells."
"I am asking about magic."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Puffskeins are magic."
Lucy crossed her arms triumphantly.
Draco hated that she was technically correct.
A tragic day.
Ten minutes later she was still talking about Puffskeins.
Twenty minutes later she was still talking about Puffskeins.
Thirty minutes later:
"Do they have names?"
Draco nearly choked on his drink.
"What?"
"The Puffskeins."
"Probably."
"Can they wear little hats?"
Draco stared.
Honestly stared.
"I genuinely don't know."
Lucy shook her head.
"We need answers."
The seriousness in her voice nearly killed him.
Because she wasn't joking.
Not entirely.
Draco watched her continue her entirely reasonable investigation into magical fluffballs.
And for a moment he forgot about everything else.
The past.
The articles.
The war.
All of it.
Instead, he found himself looking at Lucy.
At the way her eyes lit up when she got excited.
At the way she talked with her hands.
At the way she made the strangest things feel important.
And suddenly he realized something deeply inconvenient.
He liked this.
Being here.
Listening to her.
Watching her smile.
Far more than he should.
Which was becoming a serious problem.
A very beautiful problem.
And judging by the way Lucy was currently demanding more information about Puffskeins...
He wasn't the only one in trouble.
Lucy spent twenty minutes standing in front of her wardrobe.
Which was ridiculous.
Completely ridiculous.
She wasn't going on a date.
At least, she was fairly certain she wasn't.
Draco had simply invited her to see part of the magical world.
That was all.
Nothing romantic about that.
Probably.
Unfortunately, her reflection looked unconvinced.
An hour later, Lucy found herself standing outside Draco's cottage.
The sea stretched behind her.
The wind tugged gently at her coat.
And for some reason, she felt nervous.
Before she could talk herself out of it, the door opened.
Draco stood there.
Dark sweater.
Rolled sleeves.
Slightly messy hair.
Entirely too attractive for someone living alone beside the sea.
Honestly.
It felt unfair.
"Hi."
"Hi."
They both paused.
Then Lucy laughed.
"We really need to stop doing that."
Draco smirked.
"Doing what?"
"Starting conversations with exactly one word."
"It seems effective."
Lucy rolled her eyes.
Then stepped inside.
The cottage was warm.
Comfortable.
Quiet.
Books filled the shelves.
A chessboard sat near the fireplace.
A half-finished cup of tea rested on a table.
The place felt lived in.
It felt like Draco.
That realization was deeply inconvenient.
Very deeply inconvenient.
Before Lucy could become distracted by that particular thought, Draco reached into his sleeve.
And pulled out his wand.
Lucy immediately pointed.
"There."
Draco sighed.
"What?"
"The wand."
"Lucy."
"It's still weird."
"You're learning that magic exists."
"I know."
She pointed again.
"But that's an actual wand."
Draco stared.
Lucy stared back.
Neither moved.
Eventually:
"I'm processing."
"I can see that."
Lucy folded her arms.
"So."
Dangerous word.
Very dangerous word.
"So?"
"How exactly are we getting there?"
Draco hesitated.
Not a good sign.
Not a good sign at all.
Then:
"Before I answer that, there are a few things you should know."
Lucy's suspicion immediately increased.
"What kind of things?"
"The important kind."
Even worse.
Draco gestured toward the sofa.
Lucy sat.
Mostly because she suddenly felt concerned.
Draco remained standing.
Apparently preparing for a lecture.
"This is called Apparition."
Lucy nodded.
"So far so good."
"It allows witches and wizards to travel instantly."
The nodding stopped.
"Instantly."
"Yes."
"As in..."
Draco knew where this was going.
"Yes."
"As in suddenly appearing somewhere else?"
"Yes."
Lucy blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
"That seems unsafe."
"It's perfectly safe."
A pause.
"Mostly."
Lucy pointed accusingly.
"There it is."
"What?"
"The word."
"What word?"
"Mostly."
Draco looked away.
A terrible sign.
Lucy immediately stood.
"No."
"What?"
"No."
"Lucy."
"You don't get to say 'perfectly safe' and then add 'mostly.'"
Draco laughed.
Actually laughed.
The traitor.
"It'll be fine."
"People who say that are always lying."
"Not always."
"Most of the time."
Draco sighed.
Unfortunately, she had a point.
Several minutes later, after a surprisingly detailed explanation involving concentration, destination points, and not letting go halfway through
Lucy felt significantly less confident.
Not more.
Less.
Much less.
Then Draco held out his hand.
And suddenly the room felt smaller.
Much smaller.
Lucy looked at his hand.
Then at him.
Then back at his hand.
Draco pretended not to notice.
Failed.
Spectacularly.
"You'll need to hold on."
The words sounded entirely innocent.
Which somehow made them worse.
Lucy swallowed.
Then placed her hand in his.
Warm.
Steady.
Far steadier than she felt.
Draco's fingers tightened slightly.
Just enough.
"You ready?"
"No."
"Good."
"What part of that sounded good?"
"The honest part."
Lucy stared.
Draco smirked.
Then the world disappeared.
Lucy immediately hated everything.
Absolutely everything.
For one horrifying second it felt as though someone had squeezed the entire universe through a keyhole.
Then...
Air.
Ground.
Sky.
Everything snapped back into place.
Lucy stumbled.
Draco's hand tightened instantly.
Keeping her upright.
"You okay?"
"No."
Draco nodded.
"Understandable."
Lucy took a deep breath.
Then another.
Then a third.
Eventually:
"I hated that."
"You didn't throw up."
"The day is still young."
To his credit, Draco looked genuinely concerned.
Which only made Lucy laugh.
Finally she looked around.
And forgot how to breathe.
The village stretched around them.
Except village wasn't quite the right word.
Because nothing here looked normal.
Nothing.
Lanterns floated gently above the streets.
Storefronts shimmered with enchantments.
Colorful signs moved on their own.
A witch carrying three shopping bags walked past without touching a single one.
They floated behind her.
Lucy stared.
Then stared harder.
Then pointed.
"Draco."
He immediately sighed.
"What?"
"Draco."
"What?"
"DRACO."
The third one came out as a whisper.
Because there was too much to look at.
Too much to understand.
Too much wonder.
Draco watched her.
Not the village.
Not the people.
Lucy.
The way her eyes widened.
The way she turned in circles trying to see everything.
The way she smiled.
Merlin.
That smile.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
Lucy looked like someone seeing magic for the first time.
Because she was.
And Draco couldn't remember the last time he'd seen someone look at his world with wonder instead of expectation.
Then Lucy froze.
Completely.
"Oh."
Draco followed her gaze.
Immediately.
And groaned.
Because of course.
Of all the things she could have noticed first
It was the Puffskein in the shop window.
A tiny fluffy creature sat happily on a velvet cushion.
Doing absolutely nothing.
Lucy pointed.
Slowly.
Dramatically.
"Draco."
"No."
"Draco."
"No."
"Look at him."
"He is literally sitting there."
"Look at him."
The Puffskein blinked.
Lucy's entire face lit up.
And Draco realized two things simultaneously.
First:
Bringing Lucy here had been a very good idea.
Second:
He was in significantly more trouble than he thought.
Because watching Lucy Bennett fall in love with magic was one thing.
Watching her smile like that?
That was something else entirely.
By the time they returned to Draco's cottage, the sun had already started to disappear below the horizon.
The sky outside had turned shades of orange and gold.
Lucy was still processing.
Not the Apparition.
Though she still disliked that.
Passionately.
Not even the magical village.
No.
She was processing the fact that magic had become significantly less shocking once she actually experienced it.
Which felt wrong.
Very wrong.
Because somehow she had gone from:
Wizards aren't real.
To:
I wonder if magical bakeries exist.
In less than twenty-four hours.
A concerning development.
Draco opened the front door.
Lucy stepped inside.
Then immediately pointed.
"I still don't trust Apparition."
Draco removed his coat.
"That's fair."
"Good."
Lucy looked pleased.
"As long as we're in agreement."
The corner of his mouth twitched.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
They had spent nearly the entire day together.
And somehow neither seemed particularly eager to leave.
Which was probably something they should discuss.
Neither intended to.
Naturally.
Several minutes later, Lucy sat curled up on one end of the sofa.
Mochi occupied her lap.
Bean had claimed the space beside her.
The two Puffskeins had apparently decided she belonged to them now.
Lucy wasn't complaining.
Not even a little.
"They're perfect."
Draco glanced up from the book he wasn't actually reading.
"They're spoiled."
"They deserve it."
"Mochi bit a wizard once."
Lucy looked down at the Puffskein.
Mochi blinked innocently.
Lucy gasped.
"You're lying."
"I'm not."
Lucy narrowed her eyes.
Then looked back at Mochi.
"I believe you."
Traitor.
Complete traitor.
The evening settled comfortably around them.
No pressure.
No awkwardness.
Just conversation.
The kind that seemed to come naturally now.
Eventually Lucy glanced toward the window.
Darkness had fully settled outside.
The cottage felt warm.
Safe.
Comfortable.
Dangerously comfortable.
"Oh."
Draco looked up.
"What?"
Lucy checked the time.
"It's late."
"It is."
Neither moved.
Neither acknowledged that neither wanted the evening to end.
Eventually Lucy tilted her head.
"Do wizards watch movies?"
Draco stared.
Actually stared.
"What kind of question is that?"
"A valid one."
"Of course we watch movies."
Lucy immediately pointed.
"You sound offended."
"I am offended."
"Why?"
"Because apparently you think we've been living in caves."
Lucy laughed.
Draco hated how much he liked that sound.
Several minutes later, a film played quietly on the television.
Lucy had chosen it.
Naturally.
According to her, Draco had "suspicious taste."
An outrageous accusation.
One hundred percent accurate.
But still outrageous.
Halfway through the movie, a cold breeze rattled against the windows.
Lucy pulled her legs slightly closer.
"It's getting cold."
Draco barely looked away from the screen.
He reached for his wand.
Made a small movement.
And two thick blankets appeared instantly.
One landed beside Lucy.
The other beside him.
Silence.
The film continued playing.
Draco returned his attention to the screen.
Then:
"YOU CAN DO THAT?"
Draco closed his eyes.
Slowly.
Here we go.
"What?"
Lucy grabbed the blanket.
"You can just make blankets appear?"
"Yes."
"JUST LIKE THAT?"
"Yes."
Lucy stared at him.
Then at the blanket.
Then back at him.
"I hate you."
Draco laughed.
"No, you don't."
"You're right."
Lucy wrapped herself in the blanket.
Then immediately gasped.
"It's warm."
Draco looked suspicious.
"Of course it's warm."
"No."
Lucy pointed dramatically.
"It's magically warm."
Ah.
That.
Draco tried not to smile.
Failed.
Spectacularly.
Lucy looked delighted.
Completely delighted.
As if he had just revealed the greatest magical secret in history.
Not Apparition.
Not enchanted objects.
Not centuries of wizarding knowledge.
Blankets.
Merlin help him.
"You know," Lucy said thoughtfully.
"What?"
"If I had magic, I would abuse this."
Draco raised an eyebrow.
"How?"
"Every winter."
She pointed at the blanket.
"This."
Another point.
"Every morning."
Another point.
"Every nap."
Draco snorted.
Lucy looked offended.
"Don't laugh."
"You're talking about dedicating magical talent to blanket-related activities."
"Exactly."
"The ambition is inspiring."
"Thank you."
The conversation drifted again.
The movie continued.
Outside, the wind rattled softly against the cottage.
Inside, everything felt strangely peaceful.
Mochi eventually curled into a fluffy ball on Lucy's lap.
Bean settled beside her.
And without really noticing, Lucy relaxed further into the sofa.
The blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
The warmth.
The soft light.
The gentle background noise of the film.
Everything combined into something dangerous.
Comfort.
Draco noticed first.
Of course he did.
Her responses became slower.
Her eyes lingered closed a little longer each time she blinked.
Eventually:
"You falling asleep?"
Lucy immediately opened one eye.
"No."
Lie.
Terrible lie.
Draco looked unconvinced.
As he should.
Lucy shifted slightly.
Mochi made a sleepy noise.
Bean didn't move at all.
Traitors.
All of them.
For several minutes neither spoke.
The film continued playing.
The cottage remained quiet.
Comfortable.
Safe.
Lucy stared at the screen.
Then smiled softly.
"This might be my favorite part."
Draco looked over.
"The movie?"
"No."
"The magical world."
His eyebrows lifted.
"The blankets?"
Lucy laughed quietly.
Then shook her head.
"No."
For a moment her gaze met his.
Just a moment.
But long enough.
Long enough that Draco forgot what was happening in the film.
Long enough that Lucy suddenly became very interested in the television again.
Coward.
Complete coward.
Draco looked away too.
Not because he wanted to.
Because he needed to.
The alternative felt far more dangerous.
Outside, the sea continued crashing against the shore.
Inside, neither of them paid much attention to the movie anymore.
And somehow that was far more concerning.
The movie ended sometime after midnight.
Neither of them noticed.
Or rather, neither of them wanted to notice.
The credits rolled quietly across the television screen.
Soft music filled the room.
Mochi had fallen asleep on Lucy's lap.
Bean was stretched out beside her beneath the blanket.
The cottage felt warm.
Comfortable.
Dangerously comfortable.
Outside, rain tapped steadily against the windows.
The sea roared somewhere beyond the darkness.
Inside, neither moved.
Eventually Lucy glanced at the clock.
Then immediately sat up straighter.
"Oh."
Draco looked over.
"What?"
Lucy pointed.
"It's after midnight."
Draco followed her gaze.
Then blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Apparently time had decided to abandon them.
"That's late."
"Very."
Neither moved.
Again.
The silence that followed wasn't awkward.
If anything, it was the opposite.
The kind of silence that only existed between people who had become comfortable around one another.
Which was both nice and deeply concerning.
Lucy gently stroked Mochi's fur.
The Puffskein made a sleepy sound.
Adorable traitor.
A few moments later she looked toward the window.
The rain had become heavier.
Much heavier.
The wind rattled softly against the glass.
Lucy frowned.
Draco noticed immediately.
Of course he did.
"What?"
Lucy hesitated.
Then laughed quietly.
"Nothing."
Lie.
Draco waited.
Lucy sighed.
"The weather."
He glanced toward the window.
Then back at her.
"It'll pass."
"Maybe."
Neither sounded particularly convinced.
Several seconds passed.
Then:
"You can stay."
The words left Draco's mouth before he could stop them.
Silence.
Complete silence.
Lucy looked at him.
Draco looked very interested in absolutely anything except Lucy.
A fascinating crack in the wall.
Several fascinating cracks in the wall, actually.
"Stay?"
Draco cleared his throat.
"The guest room."
A pause.
"Obviously."
Lucy smiled.
The corner of Draco's mouth twitched.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
"Obviously."
For some reason, that single word made both of them feel better.
And worse.
At exactly the same time.
A remarkable achievement.
Eventually the television was switched off.
The blankets remained.
The Puffskeins remained.
Everything felt quieter without the movie.
The rain suddenly sounded louder.
The space between them felt smaller.
Much smaller.
Lucy sat cross-legged on the sofa.
Draco occupied the opposite end.
Neither seemed interested in going to bed yet.
Which was probably another problem.
"So."
Draco immediately became suspicious.
"That word usually means trouble."
Lucy laughed.
"I have a question."
"There it is."
"I only have one."
"That's how it starts."
Fair.
Very fair.
Lucy played absentmindedly with the edge of the blanket.
Then asked softly:
"Why this village?"
The question settled gently between them.
Not demanding.
Not forceful.
Just curious.
The way Lucy always was.
Draco looked down.
For a moment he considered giving the easy answer.
The safe answer.
The answer he'd given everyone else.
But somehow, sitting here with Lucy felt different.
Everything felt different.
"I was tired."
Lucy remained silent.
Waiting.
Not pushing.
Just waiting.
Draco appreciated that more than she knew.
"I spent years trying to become someone else."
His voice was quiet.
Steady.
But Lucy could hear the exhaustion beneath it.
"The war ended."
A pause.
"People moved on."
Another pause.
"Or tried to."
Lucy listened.
Carefully.
Draco stared toward the dark window.
"I thought if I worked hard enough..."
His jaw tightened briefly.
"...if I did enough good things..."
He laughed softly.
Without humor.
"Eventually people would stop seeing my last name first."
Lucy's chest hurt.
Because she understood.
Not completely.
Nobody could.
But enough.
Enough to see how lonely that must have been.
Draco exhaled slowly.
"I got tired of being Draco Malfoy."
There it was.
The truth.
Raw.
Honest.
Painful.
The room felt very still.
Very quiet.
Lucy looked at him.
Really looked at him.
At the man who drank coffee every morning.
At the man who owned two Puffskeins.
At the man who laughed more than he realized.
And suddenly the answer felt obvious.
"You've never been Draco Malfoy to me."
Draco froze.
Completely.
Lucy smiled softly.
"You've just been Draco."
Silence.
The kind that steals the air from a room.
Draco stared at her.
For one long moment neither looked away.
And something shifted.
Something neither of them could ignore anymore.
The distance between them suddenly felt much smaller.
The room felt warmer.
The air heavier.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
Lucy's heart stumbled.
Because she was looking at him.
Really looking at him.
And Draco was looking back.
Neither seemed capable of stopping.
Slowly
Almost without realizing
Lucy leaned forward slightly.
Draco did the same.
The world seemed to narrow.
Just a little.
Just enough.
Then
A loud squeak exploded from somewhere near the sofa.
Both of them jumped.
Immediately.
Lucy looked down.
Mochi sat between them.
Wide awake.
Looking deeply offended by the lack of attention.
Bean had joined him.
The Puffskeins clearly felt neglected.
Lucy stared.
Draco stared.
Then, despite everything, Lucy burst out laughing.
A second later Draco followed.
The moment shattered completely.
Gone.
Ruined by magical fluff.
Naturally.
"Your pets have terrible timing."
"They learned from me."
Lucy laughed again.
And somehow that felt easier.
Safer.
Even if part of her wondered what might have happened otherwise.
Eventually Draco stood.
"Come on."
Lucy looked up.
"What?"
"The guest room."
A pause.
"You need sleep."
Lucy narrowed her eyes.
"That sounded suspiciously responsible."
"I have my moments."
"Terrifying."
The guest room was small.
Warm.
Comfortable.
Before leaving, Draco paused in the doorway.
For a moment it looked like he wanted to say something.
Something important.
Instead he smiled.
Small.
Real.
"Goodnight, Lucy."
Lucy returned the smile.
And for some reason her chest felt very full.
"Goodnight, Draco."
The door closed softly behind him.
And as Lucy lay awake staring at the ceiling, one thought repeated itself over and over.
The problem had never been magic.
The problem was Draco.
And she was fairly certain she had fallen in love with him.
Which was becoming a very serious problem indeed.
Lucy did not sleep well.
Not because the guest room was uncomfortable.
Quite the opposite.
The bed was soft.
The blankets were warm.
The cottage was quiet.
The problem was her brain.
More specifically:
Draco.
An extremely annoying problem.
Lucy spent most of the night staring at the ceiling and replaying the evening.
The movie.
The blankets.
The conversation.
The way he'd looked at her.
And then
The almost-kiss.
Which had been interrupted by two Puffskeins with absolutely no respect for romance.
Traitors.
Complete traitors.
Eventually, sometime after two in the morning, she fell asleep.
When she woke up, sunlight spilled through the curtains.
For a moment she forgot where she was.
Then she heard voices.
Very quiet voices.
And something thumped against a wall.
Lucy frowned.
Then sat up.
Another thump.
Followed by:
"No."
Draco.
A pause.
Then:
"No, absolutely not."
Lucy blinked.
Another pause.
Then:
"Give that back."
Lucy smiled despite herself.
Curiosity won immediately.
A few minutes later she stepped into the hallway.
The smell of coffee drifted through the cottage.
And something else.
Breakfast.
Her stomach approved.
The moment she entered the kitchen, she stopped.
Draco stood near the counter.
Sleeves rolled up.
Hair slightly messy.
Coffee in one hand.
And Bean hanging from the sleeve of his sweater.
Lucy immediately laughed.
Draco looked up.
"Good morning."
Bean continued refusing to let go.
Lucy pointed.
"You're losing."
"I'm aware."
"Looks serious."
"It is."
Bean finally released the sweater.
Only to immediately attack a tea towel.
A menace.
An adorable menace.
Lucy accepted the coffee Draco handed her.
Their fingers brushed.
Both immediately noticed.
Neither commented.
Cowards.
Complete cowards.
Breakfast passed surprisingly normally.
Or as normally as breakfast could be when magical creatures occasionally stole pieces of toast.
By late morning, the rain had stopped.
The sky outside had cleared.
Which created a problem.
Because now Lucy could go home.
And neither of them seemed particularly excited about that fact.
The realization settled quietly between them.
Neither acknowledged it.
Naturally.
Instead, Draco washed dishes.
Lucy dried them.
A perfectly reasonable activity.
Completely harmless.
At least until Lucy spoke.
"You know..."
Draco immediately became suspicious.
"What?"
"I think your Puffskeins like me more than they like you."
An outrageous statement.
Unfortunately, Mochi immediately climbed into Lucy's lap.
Traitor.
Draco sighed.
"Unbelievable."
Lucy looked delighted.
As usual.
The morning slipped away.
Then noon.
And eventually there were no more excuses left.
Lucy stood near the front door.
Coat on.
Bag in hand.
Ready to leave.
The cottage suddenly felt much too quiet.
Much too empty.
Draco hated it.
Which was inconvenient.
Very inconvenient.
Lucy smiled.
"I should probably go."
Probably.
Neither moved.
The sea crashed softly outside.
The wind stirred through the grass.
And somehow everything felt suspended.
Waiting.
For something.
Lucy looked at him.
Draco looked back.
And suddenly neither seemed capable of looking away.
There it was again.
That feeling.
The one they'd both been carefully avoiding.
The one that had nearly caught them the night before.
Lucy swallowed.
Draco took a step forward.
Just one.
Enough.
More than enough.
The space between them felt very small now.
Dangerously small.
Lucy's heart pounded.
Because she knew.
And judging by the look on Draco's face
So did he.
A nervous laugh escaped her.
"I think Mochi is going to miss me."
Draco smiled.
Small.
Soft.
"Only Mochi?"
And there it was.
The question neither of them had been brave enough to ask.
Not directly.
But close enough.
Lucy's breath caught.
Draco looked almost annoyed with himself.
As though the words had escaped without permission.
For a moment neither spoke.
Then Lucy took a step closer too.
"Maybe Bean."
Draco laughed quietly.
The sound warmed her from the inside out.
"And maybe..."
Lucy hesitated.
Suddenly nervous.
Very nervous.
"...their owner."
Silence.
Complete silence.
Draco stared at her.
And something in his expression broke.
Not in a bad way.
In the way ice breaks when spring finally arrives.
Slowly.
Inevitably.
Hope replacing fear.
Because for weeks he'd been waiting for the moment she saw him differently.
The moment she learned the truth.
The moment she walked away.
And she never had.
Instead she was standing here.
Looking at him like this.
Choosing him.
Every single time.
"Lucy."
His voice was quiet.
She loved hearing him say her name.
Dangerous thought.
Very dangerous.
But true.
Draco shook his head slightly.
Almost laughing at himself.
"You make this very difficult."
Lucy smiled.
"Good."
The answer surprised him.
It surprised her too.
But neither took it back.
The smile lingering on Draco's face softened.
Then softened even more.
And before either of them could overthink it
Lucy reached for his hand.
The same hand she'd held before Apparating.
The same hand that always steadied her.
Draco looked down.
Then back up.
And that was it.
That was the final piece.
The final step.
He lifted his free hand.
Brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Gentle.
Careful.
As though she might disappear.
Lucy's breath caught.
Draco leaned closer.
This time neither looked away.
This time there were no interruptions.
No frightened memories.
No walls.
No excuses.
Just them.
And when he kissed her, it felt surprisingly simple.
Soft.
Warm.
Like coming home after being gone for far too long.
Lucy smiled against his lips.
Draco laughed quietly.
And kissed her again.
Because apparently one wasn't enough.
A fact neither of them seemed interested in arguing with.
When they finally pulled apart, neither moved very far.
Lucy rested her forehead lightly against his.
"Hi."
Draco closed his eyes.
Then laughed.
"Hi."
The familiar greeting made Lucy laugh too.
Because of course.
After everything.
After magic.
After secrets.
After Puffskeins.
After all of it.
They still started conversations the same way.
Outside, the sea continued rolling against the shore.
Inside, Draco glanced around the cottage.
At the blankets.
At the books.
At Mochi sleeping on the sofa.
At Bean stealing something from the kitchen.
Then finally at Lucy.
And for the first time since arriving in the village, he understood something.
He hadn't come here to find peace.
He hadn't come here to hide.
Not really.
He had come here because he was lost.
And somehow
Somewhere between coffee, rainy mornings, and magical fluffballs
He'd found home.
And home was smiling back at him.