Chapter 2

They met regularly after that evening, or as regularly as Philippa would accept an appointment with him. She had made it very clear that she would not run on just one client; she preferred to stay independent. And since she would only take a limited number of appointments per week, that made it pretty much impossible to meet Draco too often. But they met at least once per month, twice when Draco could persuade her.

He had become quite infatuated with her. She was everything he could possibly want in a woman. And the sex was – great, breathtaking, spectacular. Seldom had he had a partner with such skill and abandon. Of course, one could argue that this was her job. But Draco did not think that she faked her orgasms. They were too true; none of the false moaning and screaming Pansy had displayed.

By now he knew the signs of her approaching climax very well. Her breath became ragged, and her inner walls would start to flutter delicately. And depending on their position she clawed his back. Once she came she sighed in contentment, eyes closed and lips open, always looking surprised and happy.

Of course, he had not been able to resist asking her if she did fake orgasms with clients. Honest as she was, she had simply answered yes, and nothing more. She had laughed heartily at his uncertain reaction and reassured him that she didn't need to fake it with him. "Don't worry, your manly pride doesn't need to suffer. It is quite a pleasant surprise that you're able to take care of my needs in spite of our more professional relationship. That doesn't happen often." She had smiled while she said it, and he had believed her.

In the months they had been meeting each other, they had had sex almost everywhere: on carriage seats, against the wall in deserted alleyways, in his private booth at the theatre. The only place they hadn't ventured yet was the Manor, and had thus not done it in the most old-fashioned way: in a bed.

Draco stood in front of his mirror and gazed deep in thought at his reflection. He remembered the conversation they had had during one of their encounters, a few months into their acquaintance. "Quit the business..." he had told her. But she had simply laughed.

"And then what, Draco? I cannot afford my studies without this. I don't want to end up as a technical assistant in a potions lab, and that's as far as I'd go with my current education. At some point I'd probably become head of laboratory, but that's all. I want to be the one in charge of the research, not a mere assistant."

"I'd pay for your studies. Nothing would change, apart from the fact that you'd not work anymore." He had insisted, but Philippa had refused to give in.

"Right, and be your private whore, dependent on you as my only client. No, that's just not possible, Draco. I am sorry."

"You wouldn't be my private whore."

"Yeah, your mistress then. A kept woman. There is no difference. It would still be exchanging sex for money, just that you'd have much more control over my life than you have now. It's not an option – accept it."

And he had accepted it, because he knew too well that she wouldn't budge from that viewpoint. He had not dared to point out that she could be much more than his mistress. She could be his girlfriend, for heaven's sake. He wasn't ashamed of her!

There had been a time when he looked down at women. Truth be told, he had looked down at pretty much everybody. How could he not, being the one and only Malfoy heir, his family in the highest possible standing in wizarding society? He had had everything: money, good looks, intelligence. It had been the time when his father was still in the good books of the Ministry of Magic, and his mother had not been on probation.

But his world, his faith in the truth of his upbringing's teaching, had been shattered during the war. He had witnessed too much, lived too many horrors to uphold the beliefs that had been instilled in him since his childhood. It had been a slow process: a lot of happenings leading to his questioning of the Dark Lord's goals. By no means had there been a sudden epiphany making him realise that it was all wrong and suddenly becoming one of the 'good guys'.

When his father had gone on trial, and subsequently been convicted to twenty years in Azkaban, it had been a humbling experience for Draco. His own probation and community service had done the rest. He had seen widowed women struggling to rebuild their lives, orphans trying to get over the loss of their parents, fathers begging for help to bring up their family.

He had come to realise that war was always hardest on the weak ones. But how could he call them weak, when they managed to survive nonetheless? When they brought up their children to be decent witches and wizards anyway? His view of the world had changed greatly, and he tried to live up to these perceived changes every day.

Now Draco wished to believe that people were essentially good, that their intentions were always the best. Sometimes it wasn't easy though. After what he liked to call 'the Pansy incident', he had struggled not to lose his faith in people. It hadn't been easy, but he was happy that he had continued on his new path after he found out about her and Blaise. People just tended to be much nicer and more amiable if you were decent to them.

He sighed and looked at his watch. He had five minutes until he had to leave if he wanted to be on time for their date. The wizard took a last glance around his room, satisfied with what he saw. Tonight he would bring her here. Their first 'appointment' had been almost eight months ago and there was little he longed more for than to make love to her in a bed. Yes, make love. Not fucking, shagging, screwing or humping her and not sleeping with her either. He wanted to make love. Forget, just once, that he paid for the privilege of touching her body. Forget, just this time, that there were other men who touched her too.

He Apparated to the point where they were to meet. As always, she was already there, waiting for him. Despite not arriving twenty minutes early anymore when she had a meeting with Draco, she made sure to be there first. The brunette witch smiled at him and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"Hello, Draco... Long time no see."

"So, now you admit that I don't get to see you nearly as often as we should!"

"Oh, Draco, don't start on that... Term has only just started; we have seen each other a lot during the holidays! But tell me... Where are we going? You didn't say – I hope my dress is appropriate?"

He looked her over carefully from head to toe, and nodded.

"Perfect." He offered her his arm. "I'll take you side along. It's a surprise... Let's go."

Philippa stumbled slightly when they arrived at their destination. Draco monitored her closely to be able to judge her reaction. When she finally got a glimpse of their destination her breath hitched and her eyes widened.

"Malfoy Manor..." she breathed out.

"You've been here before?" He was surprised.

"It's in Witch Weekly and the Prophet at least twice a year... Pretty difficult not to know what it looks like."

"I guess." The wizard smiled and approached the gates that had opened by themselves on their arrival. When Philippa didn't follow him straight away, he stopped and turned. She looked a bit ashen. "You're not coming? Are you all right?"

"Isn't... your mother... ? Is it okay if we...?"

"She's on holiday. And even if she were here... she's the one who set me up with this whole thing." He once again offered her his arm and was glad when she took it. It would have been such a shame if she had refused to come here with him. He had looked forward to this evening too much.

"I bet she didn't think this would become such a permanent and expensive arrangement, though," Philippa remarked as she followed him up the drive leading to the manor house.

Draco smirked. "Probably not."

The house-elves had prepared a superb five course dinner, and, as always, they talked about everything and nothing. Philippa, who had become much more relaxed about disclosing little titbits of her studies, did a wonderful impersonation of her Bioinorganic-Potions professor, who seemed to have many traits in common with Professor Flitwick, whilst having the brains and passion for potions of Professor Snape.

After dessert, Draco led her from the balcony into his room. He gave her time to explore his rooms leisurely, pleased by her interest in his large bookcase. Standing behind her, he stroked her hips slowly and remarked, "We have a library, too. If you're interested, I can give you a tour next time we come here."

His hands found the zip of her dress and opened it slowly. Pressing his lips against her bare neck, he slid the soft material from her shoulders and let it fall to her feet. Philippa stepped gracefully out of it and then turned around, taking a few steps back to give him the opportunity to admire her body fully for the very first time.

She had shed her shoes earlier in the evening, claiming that there was something wrong with the cushioning charm. Now she stood there only in her hold-ups, knickers and bra. Draco thought that she looked very young and unlike the temptress she usually was. He now remembered the information from her file; she was older than he was, although not much. For some reason, he had forgotten that. He approached her slowly, caressing the dip of her waist with his index finger when he was finally close enough to touch her.

"You're beautiful," he whispered and continued tracing her body tenderly with his fingers.

Philippa smiled softly and started opening the buttons of his shirt. She had long ago admitted to herself that she was rather attracted to him. Draco was one of her youngest clients, and by far the best looking. She liked his firm body, the way he moved when they had sex. And he made her come, something that was certainly not a usual occurrence in her job. While she was a normal young woman, who enjoyed sex as much as anyone when it was up to her to choose the partner, sex with her clients was generally not a very pleasant encounter for her. There had been very bad experiences too, although those were fortunately very few and far between.

The witch slid his pants down his legs, so that they were now in a similar state of undress: he still in his boxers, she with her stockings and knickers. Draco had undone her bra earlier to have unhampered access to her breasts. He loved her breasts, although for the love of Merlin he couldn't explain why. His preferences had always been for girls with a rather large bosom, but Philippa had a small B cup. They were perfect anyway in his eyes, firm and round like apples.

He led her backward until she bumped into his soft bed with the back of her legs and laid her down on the mattress. When she was settled in the middle of it, the blonde hooked his finger under the seam of her knickers and pulled them carefully down her shapely legs. He then parted her knees tenderly, all the while keeping eye contact with her.

The fingers of one hand carefully stroked her folds, his other hand stayed on her leg, caressing her still stocking clad calf and advancing slowly up her leg. Draco rested his cheek against her inner thigh, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her arousal. He had never tasted her before, and he couldn't wait to do it tonight.

To be honest, he had never been a great fan of oral sex – at least as the giving partner – and had only done it out of a sense of justice and reciprocity. None of his partners had found reason to complain, quite the opposite; they had been very satisfied, but it had never increased his own pleasure. This was different though, the very thought of tasting her drove him crazy with lust.

Doing it hadn't seemed right until now. They had always found themselves in situations that were either uncomfortable, in which they could have been easily discovered, or both. And he somehow wanted to remember this moment. He wanted Philippa to remember it too. Oral sex was such an intimate act to him, and although she had done it to him quite often by now, for him, this was... just different.

He carefully parted her outer lips with his hands and gave her pussy a first slow lick. Draco could hear her breathing become uneven and the sheets shuffle as she grabbed them with her hands. Her tangy taste lingered on his tongue and he knew right away that he was addicted, utterly lost. He closed his mouth over her wet opening and started lapping it in earnest before he advanced further until he reached her swollen clit.

"Oh, god..." Philippa groaned and watched him moving between her thighs from under her lashes. The blonde head moved slowly, teasing and arousing her with his tongue and lips. He sucked her sensitive clit carefully, all the while cajoling her slit, probing her entrance with his fingers, caressing her in all the right places. Blood flooded like lava through her veins; her whole body burned in a passion she had not experienced in years. She could not resist and buried one hand in his hair, stroking her sensitive breasts with the other.

Draco felt her hand in his hair, drawing him closer to her, directing him where she wanted him to be. She had abandoned every pretence of restraint, giving herself fully to the feelings he was provoking with his mouth. A gush of her wetness reached his mouth, and he greedily lapped it all up, not wanting to miss the smallest drop of it. She arched even further into him, and he felt his already hard cock twitch. Philippa was letting out a deep moan, panting and whispering, "Yes, Draco, yes..."

The wizard looked up without pausing from his initial task. He carefully slid two fingers inside her and continued to feast on her clit. He curled his finger slightly, gauging her reaction; it was all he had hoped for. Her hips arched from the bed into his lips and hand, and, with a strangled cry, she came forcefully into his mouth.

The witch hadn't even come down from her high when she felt Draco kissing his way up from between her legs to her belly, to her breasts and her neck. He kissed her tenderly on the mouth, and for once she didn't turn her head, but let him do as he liked. It felt natural, so she opened her mouth and shyly granted his tongue entrance. She could taste herself on his lips, slightly salty but not unpleasant.

Soon her attention was attracted by his hard member, pressing slowly into her wet, hot quim. Philippa wrapped her legs around Draco and pulled him flush against her. She sighed into his mouth when he was buried deeply in her. Although the blonde wizard had not yet found his release, he felt no need to hurry, but set a slow and tender pace.

He propped his elbows up next to her shoulders and cupped her face lovingly in his hands, showering her face with small kisses. Philippa had her arms around his neck and met him at the lazy rhythm he was dictating.

Their lovemaking was tender and sweet, and Draco could not have wished for more; this woman in his arms, sighing and moaning under him, breathing his name when she came. He followed her into her climax, and although he had experienced more earth-shattering sex in his life, he could not remember a time when he had been more satisfied and happy.

They lay silently after they had finished, Draco's head in her lap, drawing little paintings on her stomach with his fingers.

Philippa was half asleep when he casually stated, "You have stretch marks."

The witch under him tensed and he could see her blanch. "I usually glamour them... Sorry you had to see that... Wait, I'll get my wand." She moved to get her purse, but Draco restrained her.

"Hey, hey... I don't mind! Stay here... It's just unexpected. You're such a tiny person..."

Philippa didn't answer, but just fiddled nervously with her fingers, concentrating hard on some imaginary scratch. Draco frowned. She was acting strangely, although she didn't seem offended by his statement. He ran his hand over her smooth legs when it suddenly hit him. He sat up.

"You have a child?" he asked incredulously.

The witch looked pitiful. Unable to meet his eyes, she nodded. The wizard forced her chin up to look her in the eyes. They were full of anxiety, worry and something else. Could it be shame?

"Are you ashamed to have a child?"

"No," she whispered and looked away.

"That's not the impression you give me. You are ashamed of something... Did you..." He gulped. "Did you give it away?"

"No!" Her reaction was fierce and full of pride. "I could never, ever give my child away! How dare you suggest something like that!?"

"What is it then? Why are you ashamed? I can see in your eyes that you are."

She shrugged. "I am not."

"And what are you doing here? In my bed instead of with your child and husband?"

Although she could tell he was struggling with the question, he asked it calmly nonetheless.

Philippa moved her chin from his grip and stared at him defiantly, daring him to say something degrading. "He's not in the picture. Neither as my partner, nor as her father."

She waited for a moment, but when he only continued staring at her in shock, she urged him on. "Don't hesitate. Say it. Say what you think of single mothers whoring themselves. Don't hold back!"

"That's what you think I'd do? Mock you when I still have your taste on my lips? Ridicule you when I have been indulging in your services for the last few months? I might not be perfect, but I am not that bigoted."

Draco looked angry, and a little hurt. She reached out for him shyly. "I am sorry." She wasn't sure how he'd react, so she was careful to touch him, but he only drew her close. He settled against the headboard with the witch in his arms.

"So it's a girl?" Philippa nodded. "How old is she?"

"A little over two."

"And the father? Why isn't he in the picture?"

"He called me une petite putain qui ne veut rien que son argent and told me to get rid of it." *

"He was one of your clients?" Draco was shocked. She had told him in no uncertain terms after they had slept with each other for the first time that although she had a semi-permanent contraception charm on her, that he should cast his own, too. "Never trust an escort," she had said "We wouldn't want you to find yourself in an unpleasant situation, would we?" And now this?

"No! That was before I even thought about this kind of job... He was a French exchange student at University. Had no qualms about sleeping with a Mudblood as long as his parents in France didn't find out about it. But fathering a half-blood? Out of the question."

"I gather he doesn't pay child support then?"

"Are you kidding me? He told me to get an abortion for heaven's sake! Do you really think he'd be willing to pay child support?"

"Is that why you work for the agency?"

"Yes... I had a Gringotts' loan for the university fees in my first year. If they had continued to pay... with the help of my friends and family, it would have been fine. I didn't need him. I could have moved in with my surrogate parents, they were only too ready to take me in. I'd have continued with my job as a waitress once or twice a week and I wouldn't exactly have been rich, but I would have had enough to live on.

"But when the goblins learned that I was pregnant... Well, they had already granted the loan for the second year, so they couldn't withdraw it anymore. But they informed me that they could not support a single mother after that. The credit risk was too high.

"My parents... they died just after the war. There were some difficulties concerning my inheritance. I never saw a penny of it." She took a shuddering breath at the memory.

"A friend of mine already stood surety with his newly acquired house for my first loan. If it wasn't for him, they wouldn't have granted it to begin with. I had the choice of either dropping out or finding a way to finance the three years ahead of me. It was purely coincidence that I stumbled over an ad in the Daily Prophet... And so it began."

Draco had held her close while she spoke, and caressed her arms lightly.

"Do your friends and family know about your job?"

"Heavens, no! I never told them that Gringotts refused to extend the loan. If I had told them... my friend would have sold his house to pay the fees for me. The other one would have cut his business investments...

"They already pay the fees for someone else. She's in Healing School, which is very expensive as you probably know. There is no room in their budget for my fees as well. They would have given up their dreams for mine. It wouldn't be fair to ask for something like that.

"You know, this is not only about my dream. I really don't want to be a technical assistant, but not only because I would be bored out of my mind within a few years. I want to be able to give the very best to my child. I want to be able to pay the Hogwarts fees and if she wants, for her studies, too. She deserves it."

The wizard nuzzled her neck and nodded, deep in thought. He could understand her reasoning and if he was honest, he admired her for her courage and determination.

"What's her name?"

Philippa tensed once again and hesitated with her answer. "I'd rather not tell you," she finally said.

"Is she the reason why you wouldn't quit the job and be with me? Were you afraid that my offer might only stand as long as I didn't know you had a child?"

"That's part of it. But not the only reason. You don't even know me... how could you want to be with me? And I really don't appreciate the idea of being a kept woman. Now I have a job of which many think poorly, to say the least, but I am my own master. If I agree to the arrangement you're proposing, then I'll be dependent on you."

"I know you! You're Philippa Ephesus, 23,..." The witch tried to interrupt him but he didn't listen and continued instead, "...Muggle-born witch and Potions student at LMU. You like to laugh, tell dirty jokes and read. You enjoy the opera and theatre but you love ballet more. You have a little daughter, age 2 – and I am sure you are a great mum. What more do I need to know?"

"I am not Philippa Ephesus."

"What?" He stared at her until his face lit up in understanding. "Oh... But it doesn't matter if your name is Philippa or Julia or whatever else! You're still all the other things, or was all that a lie, too?"

"No... I was being pretty much myself with you."

They continued talking for quite some time. Draco tried to get her real name out of her and to convince her to agree to quit the business in favour of being his mistress (He called it girlfriend, but Philippa knew too well what it really meant). After some time the blond gave up; he had realised that she wouldn't back down from her decision.

Although it angered him to some extent, he could understand her reasoning. He'd be reluctant in her situation too. He stared at the point she had Apparated from for a long time after he had paid her and kissed her good bye.

*~*~*~*~*~*~

They continued their regular dates, and with each meeting Draco became more obsessed with the idea of having this wonderful woman for himself. Philippa had opened up to him considerably since she had told him about her daughter for the first time. Not enough to confide her real name or that of her daughter to him, but she was open enough to tell him little anecdotes about her private life – strictly without names, of course.

As the weeks went by, he couldn't fail to realise that she was worried about something or other. When he asked her directly, she admitted that her daughter had been sickly for some time, but that the Healers had found nothing and had told her that it would certainly go away given time. The brunette witch was worried all the same and admitted that she had a very bad feeling about it.

It thus came as no surprise to him when she cancelled on him one day, claiming an emergency with her child. What did surprise him though, and hurt him too, was the fact that she didn't reappear. Over several weeks he tried to contact her through the agency, but the madam claimed that she didn't know how to reach her and that she wasn't accepting appointments until further notice.

He tried everything: bribery, blackmail, even flattery (and honestly, who wanted to flatter a madam in her late forties?!); but to no avail. She wouldn't admit to having any real way of contacting Philippa and even refused to give out her real name. She claimed that Philippa Ephesus was the name she checked in with and that she had no idea why she suddenly wasn't working anymore. Furthermore, she denied any knowledge of a child.

His inquiries at London Merlin University hadn't brought the desired results either. They had flat out refused to let him see the list of their Potions students. This was probably only normal, after all they charged 10,000 Galleons per year; the students could certainly expect confidentiality. It did nothing to appease his mood, however.

Only a few days after he had tried to find her at LMU, he received a nondescript letter with a post-office owl. It delivered the letter and left immediately.

Dear Draco,

I heard that you have been looking for me, at university as well as at the agency.

I am quitting the business, just as you asked me to. I will not continue my studies after this year and thus don't need the money anymore. Instead I will get a job in some potions lab or apothecary, I don't know for sure yet.

My daughter's health has deteriorated, and the Healers are currently trying to figure out what's wrong with her.

I am very sorry that I didn't tell you all of this in person, but I am needed at home. I wish you only the best and all the luck in the world. Go out and find a nice girl. A guy like you doesn't need to pay for an escort.

Please don't try to find me. It wouldn't do us any good, we're from different worlds. I enjoyed your company greatly, and I'll always cherish the time we spent together – even if it was under these circumstances. You gave me something precious, and I will always be thankful for that.

Hugs and kisses,

Philippa

Draco swore after he had finished reading. This stupid, stupid girl! Why did she insist so much on the idea that they couldn't work together? For heaven's sake, they had worked when they were going out – or hadn't they? He reread the letter and concluded that she, too had liked spending time with him. So why did she push him away?

*~*~*~*~*~*~

"How much?" Hermione whispered incredulously.

"500 Galleons each."

"You mean just to get scans from each of these databases I'll have to pay 1,500 Galleons?"

"Well yes. Of course, we'll have to do the typing for your daughter, too. And you must know, this is a rather difficult process. For Muggles, only certain criteria must be met – usually they are called HLA characteristics. But since your daughter is a witch, the magical characteristics of the donor have to be matched too..."

"How much?" she whispered once again.

"Since your daughter is still a toddler, and it's rather difficult to determine the characteristics of a child's magical signature..."

"How much!?" This time the witch almost screamed.

"1,000 Galleons."

Hermione almost hyperventilated and put her head between her knees in order to calm down. She closed her eyes and willed herself not to cry. This was not true. This simply couldn't be true. She took a last deep breath and then righted herself. She looked at the healer pleadingly.

"Isn't it right that a family member is the best chance of finding a match? Couldn't I be a match?"

"Of course. We will do a typing on you, and obviously on the father, too. Adults are much cheaper to type, by the way, because the magical signature is already known. It's only 50 Galleons per typing." The healer smiled in a condescending manner that made Hermione's blood boil.

"If my calculations are correct, and neither I nor the father are a suitable match... we'll already be at 2,500 Galleons for the typing of my daughter and the screening for a donor alone. Pray tell, how much will the actual treatment cost?"

"Well, there is the medication, the staff, the hospital time, the surgery, the follow-up examinations..."

"For Merlin's sake, just tell me the fucking price! I am not asking for a detailed listing; I am sure I will get that once you write your bill!"

"It will be 80,000 Galleons if you find a donor in Europe. If you have to go overseas, you can calculate about 30% more."

Now Hermione did hyperventilate. Panic surged through her like a herd of raging hippogriffs. She trembled so much that she thought she'd fall off the chair, not to talk about the fact that no oxygen seemed to be reaching her brain. 80,000 Galleons... 80,000 Galleons... 80,000 Galleons... Where the hell would she find 80,000 Galleons?

Finally, she had herself under enough control to croak out, "Is there any program to financially support people who cannot pay? Or at least a chance of getting a special loan?" Her eyes pleaded with the healer, but he only shook his head.

"No. Of course you can always try for a Gringotts' loan. That's what most people would do."

"Fucking goblins won't give me a damn Sickle," the witch whispered.

"Well, it's not certain that we'll find a donor for her anyway. For Muggles, the chances are about 30%, but for a witch or a wizard, it's about half. It depends on the case, obviously..."

"AND THIS IS SUPPOSED TO HELP ME HOW?" Hermione screamed. "YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT MY DAUGHTER!" The sobs and the tears were like a summer storm, sudden and violent. She felt as if she couldn't breathe anymore, not think, not feel.

When she regained consciousness, the worried face of Ginny Weasley was hovering over her. She held Sophia in her arms. The little girl was struggling to get down to her mother. Hermione held her arms out for her and cuddled her daughter against her. She cried silently into the squirming toddler's hair. It smelled like soap and biscuits, a mix that was typically Sophe.

*~*~*~*~*~*~

Philippa stared at herself in the mirror. She looked like shit; dark circles under her eyes, pale, and several pounds lighter than only a few short months ago. This would be the hardest thing she had ever done. But she had to. She took her wand and glamoured her hair and eyes, to match the image Draco knew. She didn't bother hiding the signs of her distress though.

Draco read the letter he had received from Philippa for the umpteenth time. That woman had nerve; disappearing off the face of the earth, leaving nothing but a short letter, just to contact him two months later, asking for a favour.

Draco,

I am sorry I disappeared like that but my daughter needed me.

I know that you might be very angry with me, or maybe you have already completely forgotten about me, but, please, I need your help.

Meet me at Fortescue's, tomorrow, 3 o'clock. Please come, I beg you. I desperately need your help.

Yours sincerely,

Philippa

He wasn't quite sure what made him go to the Ice Cream Parlour. It was probably because she seemed desperate, he told himself. He had moved on. Turned a corner. Got over her. He was only here because... Right. He scowled. He was only here because he could not forget about her.

He could see her from afar when she arrived, early as ever. She didn't look good; he could see that from a distance of a few hundred feet.

It was the first time he had seen her in jeans and everyday robes, but that was not it. She seemed deathly pale and had obviously lost weight. She sat down in the chair opposite him and ordered a water when the waiter arrived.

"Draco," she acknowledged him. "I am glad you came."

"Right. What do you want, Philippa?" His voice sounded cold and distant, not at all like the Draco she had gotten to know over the months she had met him regularly.

"I need your help." She bit her lip forcefully.

"I gathered that much from your letter. What kind of help?" He forced himself not to say anything as she bit even harder on her lip. By now she must be drawing blood, he thought to himself.

"My daughter has been diagnosed with leukaemia." She had tears in her eyes. "I have about 5,000 Galleons left, and I could borrow another 10,000 from friends... I am not a match, but..."

"How much?" Draco interrupted her.

"What?"

"I asked how much you need."

"Just... just like that?"

"Just like that. How much do you need?"

Philippa darted over the table, practically flying, and hugged him tight. "Thank you, Draco, thank you!" She cried onto his shoulder, this time from happiness, until he silently repeated his question.

"How much do you need?"

"It depends... if we don't find a donor, I won't need it at all. If we find a match in Europe I'd need about 70,000. If it's overseas it might very well go up to 100,000...

"I'll pay you back, Draco, I promise. I just need to be able to access the money as soon as we find a match. Those fucking hospitals are nothing else than business... There's no possibility of applying for respite, a loan or... I don't know. Being a witch sometimes really sucks. It's incredible that there is no health insurance at all!"

"I am not worried about my money. How is she?" The wizard kept her safely in his lap, hugging her closer. She was so tiny and fragile.

"Oh, considering the circumstances she isn't doing too badly. She has good days and bad days. But you know, for a child her age..." She sobbed in distress.

"Yes..." Draco rubbed her back in a soothing way. Merlin, she felt so good in his arms. They sat like that for some time without speaking. The wizard continued rubbing her arm and back until she had calmed down considerably. Then he spoke again.

"What about the father?"

"What about him? He will not help me out."

"I did not mean financial help. But did he get tested? Could he be a match?"

"I don't know. He could be. I tried everything to get him tested. I wrote to him, I even went to see him... But he refused. He told me to get lost and not to jeopardise his marriage."

"Bastard."

The witch smiled wryly. "Yes. He certainly is. No point fretting about it though. There is no way I could force him to get tested."

The wizard nodded in acknowledgement and then said, "Philippa? I'd like to ask something from you, though."

"Anything. What do you want?"

"Tell me your real name. And let me meet your daughter."

"What?" The witch panicked "You... does your offer depend on... what if you don't like me..."

"How could I not like you? I like Philippa; why shouldn't I like the real you? But in the unlikely case I don't, I will give you the money anyway. Okay?"

Philippa stared at him uncertainly and finally nodded. Without waiting another second, she entangled herself from his grip and rummaged through her bag. She threw a few Sickles on the table and motioned him impatiently to follow her.

"Come on." She decided not to waste their time, took his hand and then Apparated them away on the spot – an administrative offence because they weren't at one of the official Apparition points – but since there were no patrol Aurors around it didn't matter. Within a few seconds they reappeared in the long hallway of an apartment-block.

The witch turned to the closest door and opened it. Before she let him enter she turned, took a deep breath and told him, "I am sorry, Draco." She pushed the door open and let him in. Draco's eyes grew wide when he saw the inside of the flat. It was... in the absence of a better word – slightly shabby; cosy, certainly, but well-worn, and the furniture was obviously second hand.

On the mantelpiece he could make out a picture of three teenagers in Hogwarts robes. He wasn't close enough to discern their faces though.

"You went to Hogwarts?"

Philippa nodded nervously and fiddled with her wand. Her secret would be out. As soon as he took a closer look at the pictures, he would know who she was. Draco reached for the photograph of the three people. His eyes grew impossibly wide.

He turned just in time to see the witch flick her wand to change her appearance. Green eyes turned to brown, straight hair curled and brightened slightly. Hi, Draco," she whispered.

"You... wow."

"Yeah..." She smiled uncertainly. "Wow good... or wow bad?"

*~*~*~*~

French translation:

* "He called me a little whore who wanted nothing but his money and told me to get rid of it."

A/N: Thanks to laurielove, the best beta ever! She has been very patient with me and my many mistakes once again.

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