Their first Hogsmeade trip came at Halloween and, naturally, the castle was full of excitement. The candles at breakfast fluttered as flocks of live bats swooped around the Great Hall and most of the first years, especially those from Muggle families, seemed too entranced by the sight to eat their porridge. They took no chances as they headed back up to Gryffindor Tower to get their tings; wrapping up well in cloaks, scarves and gloves to protect them from the bitter wind they could hear whipping at the windows. As usual, Filch was there to check them off his list as they passed the winged boars that flanked the school gates.
Whilst the third years, who were on their first visit to the village, goggled at the displays in Honeydukes and Zonko's; the more experienced students headed straight to the Three Broomsticks for a warm Butterbeer before all the good tables were taken. Managing to nab a choice spot between the fire and the window so they could indulge in a spot of people-watching, Kathryn got the first round of drinks in. They sat there, lazily sipping their Butterbeer, in no hurry to head back outside when they spotted something unusual. Two figures approached the doors and, although they were wrapped up in cloaks and scarves, they were still easily distinguishable. Her heart did a series of somersaults when she saw a long mane of blond hair and a silver topped cane, only to sink again when her eyes landed on the hooked nose and greasy black hair of Snape.
"Have any of you ever seen Snape out on a Hogsmeade weekend?" Kathryn asked in a hushed tone as they door closed behind the two new arrivals.
"Death Eaters just popping out for drinks!" Ron snorted derisively into his Butterbeer. "I knew Snape was up to no good."
"Ron!" Hermione hissed under her breath. "Dumbledore trusts him, therefore so should we. And no, Kathryn, I've never seen him out of the castle, save from when he's been at number twelve."
"Yeah, yeah. Look, Hermione, poisonous toadstool's don't change their spots." Ron continued to bicker.
"I'm sure he has a reason." Harry commented, although even his eyes didn't seem particularly convinced.
"He will." Kathryn agreed, trying not to look too distracted. She was glad that the three of them were facing away from the bar so they did not see him meet her gaze and give a small smile. They also did not see, to her great relief, her smiling back. She turned back to Ron and Hermione's bickering as they disappeared into the back corner of the bar and out of sight.
They reappeared about half an hour later, Snape leading the way back out. Kathryn, concentrating on not dropping their empty glasses as she returned them to the bar, almost walked headlong into Snape but thankfully she looked up just in time. Snape just gave her his usual disdainful look as he brushed past her towards the door. Keeping her face passive, she waited for Lucius to pass. Kathryn was sure she saw a hit of a smirk flash across his face before, very much intentionally, he bumped into her shoulder as he passed and she felt his hand slip in and out of her cardigan pocket. Starting, two of the glasses slipped her grasp and fell to the floor with a crash; colour rising in her cheeks as people turned their heads to see where the noise had come from.
Dropping to her knees and fumbling with her wand to repair the damage, Lucius gave her his most contemptuous smirk before brushing off his cloak and striding out of the door behind Snape. Wishing that the flush in her cheeks would go down, she hurried to the bar with the repaired glasses and an apologetic smile at Madam Rosmerta.
"Four more butterbeers please," she asked at the bar, getting out her money before adding a final drink on impulse, "and a shot of Firewhisky." Though she raised her eyebrows, Madam Rosmerta didn't refuse her request. Her hand shaking slightly, Kathryn threw the drink back and reached in her pocket to see what he had put there. Her fingers brushing against parchment, she pulled it out and, as Madam Rosmerta went to get her change, she took a peek. In hastily scrawled writing were the words '15 minutes'. Returning to their table, nothing was said of what had happened and they continued on with their conversation as normal.
They each went their separate ways when they left the pub; Hermione and Ron heading off to Honeydukes whilst Harry wandered in the direction of Zonko's where he said he'd meet Ginny. Kathryn, meanwhile, wandered away from the village; back up past the caves and onto the hill overlooking the village. She shivered as the biting wind whipped across her face, sending her hair flying out behind her as she walked. Standing to wait, she looked down on the village below; the streets bustling with students overloaded with bags and with smiles on their faces.
He was watching her as he stood there, from just around a bend in the path. She was very beautiful, he thought, even from the back. He was pleased to see her wearing something he had given her; standing tall and elegant, swathed in a long cloak of pure black with a matching fur trim. Unlike the normal Hogwarts cloaks which were without sleeves, it had been crafted to give the wearer sleeves that stayed beneath the main body of the cloak. It also trailed the ground slightly at the back, giving it a very flowing shape.
She did not divert her gaze when he rounded the corner and walked to stand next to her, but he saw a small smile tug at the corners of her lips. He noted the earrings and necklace that he had bought her sparking in the autumn sunshine and smiled again.
"Sorry about that, but I just couldn't slip you a note in the middle of a pub." He laughed, one of his hands finding hers in the folds of her cloak.
"And I couldn't just wander over and start talking to you, could I?" she laughed as well, squeezing his hand slightly. Letting go of her hand, he worked his arms around her waist beneath her cloak and she did the same, liking the way he held her tightly to him as he kissed her. The moment was not to last, however, as the faint noise of voices on the wind reached them. Reacting quickly, he grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the thicket of trees nearby. They stood, concealed in the shadows, as his son, Crabbe and Goyle rounded the bend.
"Did you hear something?" he asked, holding up a hand to halt Crabbe and Goyle. Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles menacingly, as if preparing to pound someone. Malfoy, meanwhile, was beginning to nose about and was moving ever closer to the trees. They shrank back further into the cover of the trees, remaining as silent as possible.
"Come on." Malfoy shrugged, apparently satisfied that there was no one there, and wandered on up the path.
"I wouldn't advise that we linger here longer." He murmured in her ear once their footsteps had receded into the distance.
"I agree." She nodded, sliding her hand into his. Holding her tightly, he turned on the spot and they disappeared into the crushing void; re-appearing an instant later at his manor.
Exhilarated at their near discovery, and knowing their time was limited, they wasted no time in removing the layers of clothing that had been protecting them from the weather. Laughing as he lifted her up onto the bed, she did not once let the thought of what her friends would think cross her mind.
Later on, as they lay entwined beneath the soft cream sheets they talked of many things before he took the conversation to far more sensitive ground; touching on a subject that she would rather forget entirely.
"What should I get Narcissa for Christmas?" he asked, out of the blue.
"I wonder that you ask me!" She said in astonishment.
"I have no good ideas."
"That surprises me." She raised her eyebrows. "From what I've heard, Egypt is supposed to be a good place to visit at New Year."
"Egypt? Interesting." He mused, staring up at the hangings.
"And that is all I will say on the subject," she warned him, her tone far older than normal, "and I'd rather you didn't mention her again."
"My apologies." It was only when he saw the look on her face that he realised what a foolish question he had asked.
"I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to me." She smirked, pulling him closer."
"I'm sure I shall." Rolling back on top of her, any mention of his wife was soon forgotten.