As Friday afternoon arrived, she could not fail to be in good spirits. September was being obliging and had provided a lovely sunny day in which she had done little, save from lounging in the garden with a good book. By four in the afternoon, however, she was to be found pacing impatiently back and forth in the Entrance Hall. She had received a note from Fudge the previous day that she was to expect Lucius' arrival by portkey between four and five o'clock.
Eventually, at quarter to five, there was a blue flash and a figure appeared in the Entrance Hall. Springing up from where she had been sitting on the stairs, leaning against the banister, she practically flew across the room to meet him.
"Finally!" she breathed a sigh of relief, flinging her arms around his neck before he knew what was going on. "I should've known Fudge would keep me waiting."
"I had no idea what was going on." He explained. "They just gave this to me and told me to wait." He held up an old, worn leather glove.
"At least you're here," she smiled up at him, "I was beginning to wonder if he had decided to renege on our agreement."
"Well, it's certainly a pleasant surprise." He assured her, planting a swift kiss upon her lips. "Far better than how I could've been spending my weekend."
"And it shall begin with the new ritual," she wrinkled her nose slightly, "you can get straight in the bath," she pulled slightly at his jacket with the tips of her fingers, "and I might just burn these." Though he could have taken a fresh set of clothes with him on previous occasions that he had been allowed home, he had chosen to wear the same set each time he returned to Azkaban so as not to wear anything out unnecessarily.
"Feel free." He chuckled, taking her hand as she led him up the stairs.
"Good," she swept her hand across her forehead in a mock gesture of relief, "I mean, I know the house elves have done their best with them, but they just look a little too forlorn now."
"I won't lie and say that there are ample laundry facilities in that hellish place. But they've lasted well since July."
"Indeed. And we might as well have you looking your best for Monday."
"So you don't want to be seen with me looking slightly shabby?" he teased as they walked through the doors to their bedroom.
"No, it's just that I'd hate for you to feel self-conscious when standing next to me." She smirked, teasing him right back. "After all, I'm getting a reputation for being quite the snappy dresser."
"Oh are you now?" he raised his eyebrows, surveying her current attire. "Obviously these people need to see you in ordinary situations to get the full picture."
"The cheek!" she laughed, waving her wand to run the water for the bath. "It is a taxing business getting dolled up like that all the time, so I reserve the right to wear my jeans when there is no reason to be smartly dressed."
"So do I no longer fall into that category?"
"No," she smirked wickedly, "but I find it simpler to take my clothes off when I want to get your attention!"
"Speaking of which." He smirked back, hooking a finger in the waistband of her jeans and pulled her closer.
"Oh no," she shook her head, ducking swiftly out of his grasp, "you get in and I'll go and fetch some tea." She pointed sternly to the steaming bath.
"Spoilsport." She heard him grumble as she sauntered out of the bathroom and down to the kitchens.
"So do we have guest coming early?" he asked as she reappeared with two mugs of tea.
"No."
"Then why the hurry?" he asked as he sipped the tea.
"I want to go to Oxford." She explained, taking a seat at the edge of the bath.
"Why?"
"There's a food festival on and they're having an evening market and I fancied going along." She explained. "It's been a nice day after all and I thought it would make a change."
"It certainly sounds promising."
"So you don't mind going?"
"Not at all."
"Excellent!" edging closer to the bath, she dangled her legs in the water as he ducked beneath the surface to rinse the last of the suds from his hair. "And I've never been to Oxford before," she continued when he emerged, "but I've heard it's a beautiful city."
"It is." He confirmed, reaching for a towel. Standing, he offered her his hand to help her up once he had wrapped the towel around his waist. "Marvellous libraries that I'm sure your Hermione would approve of."
"Yes," she nodded, knowing that Hermione's love of books and knowledge was somewhat unparalleled, "though there is one thing." She finished as they walked into the wardrobe.
"What?"
"Well," she shifted uncomfortably on the spot, "are you sure you can dress casually enough to blend in?"
"I blended in at the Albert Hall, did I not?" he quirked an eyebrow.
"Well, yes, but this isn't the Albert Hall."
"Fear not," he opened a door, "though no one may think it, I do have things to wear other than suits."
Fifteen minutes later they were both ready; Lucius looking remarkably relaxed in a pair of chinos and a soft cotton shirt whilst Kathryn wore dark crimson skinny jeans and a cream top with a large print of a single feather going down the left side. Kathryn had to admit that he looked rather good, quite enjoying the sight of him out of his more formal attire that had become something of his trademark.
"So?" he asked as she eyed him up and down. "Do I pass muster."
"Very much so." She smiled, taking the arm that he offered. "Although, I've got this for the car." She handed him the invisibility cloak as they walked downstairs. "I've assured Fudge of my discretion so it wouldn't do to have anyone seeing you if the press is lurking at the gates."
"Do they do that often?" he asked curiously, running the light, airy fabric of the cloak through his hands.
"Not all the time," she shrugged, "but every so often there'll be someone there."
"At least I don't live in suburbia." He nodded towards the gates in the distance.
"Yes," she nodded in agreement, "thank heaven for small mercies. I don't think I could cope if they were able to press their noses against the downstairs windows."
Thankfully, there was no one lying in wait; apparently even journalists needing their Friday night off. Kathryn stowed the cloak in the side door pocket, just in case they needed it on their return.
Despite their driver taking the longer route to Oxford, via the back roads in order to avoid the rush hour traffic and a set of extensive road works, they still arrived in record time. Stepping into the street, Kathryn felt quite proud of how well Lucius was blending in, unlike some wizards who did not grasp the concept of Muggle attire. Not that she would've let him out of the house in anything less. Heading in the general direction of the centre of town, they strolled hand in hand past stalls offering everything from local meats to locally made ales. Most were offering free samples, and Kathryn began making mental notes as to whose produce she would like the house elves to source for their kitchen.
Sitting on an obliging bench, they ate their dinner from take-away boxes; Kathryn having a delicious Pad Thai whilst Lucius tried a mouth-watering, if spicy, lamb curry. Kathryn couldn't help smiling as they ambled about, imagining that this was what a date would have been like if they had begun their relationship in a more conventional way. Still, it was nice to see him look so relaxed despite the looming threat of imprisonment that was still hanging over his head.
It was after ten by the time they found their way back to the car, after having sat in one of the pubs sampling most of their local ales.
"You look like you've had fun." She commented as they pulled away, wrapping her scarf about her shoulders to stave off the chill in the air.
"I have," he smiled, "though I think my tongue is still burning from the curry."
"I did warn you." She chuckled, shaking her head. "You did look like you'd taken Madam Pomfrey's Pepperup potion for a little while, without the steaming ears of course."
"I'm glad I was a source of amusement," he replied dryly, "though I think there's still more fun to be had."
"Oh really?"
"Definitely." His kiss tasted of hops and barley, and she slid happily into his embrace. Sensing their urgency, their driver had them back at the Manor gates in under an hour. Laughing like giddy teenagers out later than they should be, he pulled her through the front doors and resumed what he had started in the car.
"Another perk of not living in suburbia," she laughed as he tripped on the large carpet that covered most of the Entrance Hall's floor, "is that we don't have to worry about what the neighbours are hearing!"
"Indeed," he murmured, pulling her down to where he was now sitting on the floor, "now come here." His lips found hers in the dark whilst his hands slid beneath her T-shirt; running across her silky smooth skin as he pulled her ever closer.
"Not here!" she protested meekly as his hands switched their focus to the buttons of her jeans.
"Why not?" he asked rakishly, sliding a hand further into her underwear.
"Because," she bit her lip, trying to ignore what he was doing, "because I don't want to blush every time I'm in here."
"Well at least I can still make you blush." He commented dryly. "But what my Lady wants," he swept her up off the floor and into his arms, "my lady gets."
"Plus I'd rather that the generations of Malfoys gone by weren't watching." She whispered in his ear as he carried her up the stairs.
"True," he whispered back, "and those portraits can be such gossips."
Practically falling through the bedroom door, she took her turn and swiftly had him pinioned on the bed as she removed his shirt and trousers.
"Oh so now the veil of modesty falls." He commented dryly as she pulled her top over her head.
"Like I said," she murmured back, "I don't like an audience."
"Well, like I said," he slid a hand up behind her head, "come here." Pulling her down to kiss him, she laughed as he rolled over and almost slipped off the edge of the bed.
"Very smooth." She giggled as his hands fiddled with the clasp of her underwear.
"I'm glad you think so."
Any further conversation was swiftly negated as he removed the last of her underwear; holding her body to his as if any miniscule separation would be catastrophic. Though still possessed of the giddy, teenage-like rush of adrenaline that coursed through their veins, their lovemaking was anything but a halting teenage fumble. Their movements were practiced and polished, but not in such a way that it dulled the experience. Entwined together beneath the covers, all thought of the future was forgotten for just a moment, and that moment was bliss.