XVIII: Tea and Wine

A/N: Dedicated to The Mugglechief, a dear friend who is sorely missed. We know he'd love the wine in this chapter.

Chapter XVIII: Tea and Wine

The first of September arrived in a flurry of activity as Narcissa Malfoy helped her son Draco to prepare for his return to Hogwarts. As he had refused to be fitted by Madam Malkin and then thrown quite a tantrum on their way to Twilfitt and Tattings, they had returned from Diagon Alley without new robes, and Narcissa had been forced to arrange for a private tailor to visit the manor; a task which had turned out to be more difficult than she had expected. Whereas she only had needed to clap her hands a few months ago to get all she wanted, she now almost had to beg people to be of service to her. Simply saying 'Lady Malfoy wishes' didn't do the trick anymore, and instead she had to ask people if they would be so kind as to assist her. It was a humiliating experience, to say the least, but Narcissa suffered through it. For her son, she would do just about anything. He was all she had left. And now he was back at Hogwarts, the manor seemed so empty, and Narcissa felt as if she was rattling around the old place like an aged spinster without either of the two Malfoy males around to keep her company.

On the Wednesday after Draco's departure, she didn't even get up in the morning. She simply couldn't muster the strength to face the empty house yet again. She had no one to talk to, no one to look at. She felt as if she were going mad. The night before, she had imagined hearing the clicking of Lucius' boots against the polished oak floors and the swishing of his robes when she had wandered through the empty rooms. And she had imagined his touch when she had finally drifted off to sleep. She had even dreamt of him, and when she had awoken in the morning, she had felt so lonely and desolate that she had been unable to make herself leave their matrimonial bed. She would lie there until he returned to her, she thought, and pulled the fine silk sheets over her head. But in the late afternoon, when she had no more tears left to cry, Narcissa decided that waiting and hoping wouldn't do. She would have to take matters into her own hands. If she did as Severus had advised her, maybe the Dark Lord would be merciful. And so she sent off an owl to a tiny room at the corner of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley.

Three days later, Narcissa was waiting impatiently. There were still ten minutes left to the appointed time, but she couldn't deny that she was looking forward to company after a week alone, even if her primary reason for inviting Morgana Belakane for tea had a much more manipulative motive. It would be delightful to have someone to talk to.

Narcissa had made sure the elves had set the drawing room just so: an intimate table and chairs were laid out, the table adorned with little plates and bone china, awaiting her guest's arrival. There was also an empty cake stand, ready to be filled with petit fours and cakes at the snap of a finger. She had asked the elves what the girl had preferred to eat when she had visited the manor last summer, but had been informed that Master Lucius had only allowed one elf to take care of the girl, and that elf wasn't at the manor anymore. Where the elf had gone and what had happened to the creature, Narcissa did not know. Frankly, she had not even noticed its absence. And at the moment, she was too annoyed by the fact that she was unable to present the girl with her favourite dishes to care about the elf's whereabouts. It had probably died, broken its neck after having tripped over Lucius' cane.

Now, Narcissa was sitting in the drawing room, looking as immaculate and ladylike as ever, waiting for the knock at the door that would announce Morgana's arrival. Five minutes left. She wondered if the girl would be on time.

Frowning slightly, Narcissa tried to remember as many details as possible about the girl. Somewhat of a tomboy, Severus had said. And yes, Narcissa did remember that Morgana had worn her hair awfully short, no nail varnish and barely any make-up. But she also remembered fine features, inquisitive blue eyes and a posture that spoke of pride and self-confidence. She could work with that, for sure. She had given it a good try during a few days the last summer. But Lucius had insisted on teaching the girl about bloodlines and the teachings of the Dark Lord. Beautification charms, dresses and high heels could wait until later, he had said. And Narcissa, the obedient wife, had stepped back and let her husband do what he deemed best.

Once more, her eyes flitted towards the clock on the mantel piece. Three minutes left. Well, as a member of one of the oldest pure-blood families in Britain, the girl could afford to be fashionably late. But then again, it was good manners to be punctual.

And Morgana was more than punctual. She had been standing on the doorstep of the main entrance for a few minutes now and had reached out her hand to knock several times. But she couldn't. And her inability to perform that simple task annoyed her no end.

It had seemed so easy to come to the manor, and Dumbledore's instructions had been so clear: Befriend Narcissa. She needs the company. It won't be difficult to gain her trust. But once Morgana had made her way through the Malfoy garden, her stomach had clenched and her hands had become sweaty. She had not imagined returning to the manor would be so difficult. She had not expected to be so nervous, so afraid. And she had very much hoped not to encounter any ghosts. But she had been wrong on all three points.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she brought herself to knock, and after only a few moments, an elf that Morgana hadn't seen before opened the door with a deep bow.

'If Miss Belakane would follow Dinky to the drawing room, Mistress Narcissa is waiting for her there.'

Morgana stepped inside, steeling herself. I can do this, she told herself firmly, following the elf through the magnificent hallway. But she wished that Narcissa had chosen another room to serve tea. Far too often had Lucius welcomed her in this particular room. Far too often had they made love on the sofa. No, not made love, Morgana corrected herself, scowling. We had sex. That was all. Period.

Narcissa stood up, expectantly, as the elf opened the door and announced Morgana's arrival, and Morgana entered the room, trying to look confident. She hadn't seen Narcissa since the previous summer when she had stayed for a few weeks at the manor. It was then that Lucius had seduced her. It was then that she had still believed that she could handle the situation. How wrong she had been.

She swallowed as Narcissa greeted her with a warm smile.

'Morgana, I am so pleased you decided to come!'

She clasped the younger witch's hand in her own, and Morgana had to resist the urge to curtsey as she felt Narcissa's delicate handshake.

'Madam Malfoy,' Morgana responded awkwardly.

'Call me Cissy, please!' Narcissa insisted, picking up on the girl's discomfort. She had to make sure the girl felt at home and had to gain her trust. 'Come, take a seat. We've plenty to catch up on.'

She smiled again, and Morgana tried to smile back, but it came out as just a little twitch of her lips. Oh, if Cissy knew just how much catching up they had to do. If Cissy knew what had happened on the sofa on which they were now sitting opposite.

Narcissa politely offered tea, and Morgana accepted, but declined the sugar. Her boss had said she needed to watch her weight, she claimed, and Narcissa wrinkled her pretty little nose. Surely, the girl wasn't carrying a single ounce of excess fat. Not that it would show under those dreadful robes. Narcissa resisted the urge to tut. This girl needed to be properly attired if she were to be presented to the high society of wizardkind. Those black, shapeless robes wouldn't do. And neither would that boyish hairstyle of hers.

'I hope your boss does not object to petit fours,' she said, pouring the tea by hand and nodding towards the still empty cake stand. 'One of my elves is an excellent baker.'

'The Malfoy elves have a good reputation. I assume your husband took in only the best,' Morgana replied in what she meant to be a compliment.

However, at the mention of her husband, Narcissa's smile tightened a little, and Morgana saw some sadness in her eyes fleetingly. And she, too, regretted her words. She had sworn to herself not to mention Lucius. Now she had failed within the first five minutes of her visit.

But then Narcissa clicked her fingers determinedly, ripping them both out of their thoughts, and the cake rack filled up with delicious-looking cakes and slices.

'Help yourself, please,' she instructed, after choosing a delicious-looking cream slice.

Morgana chose a cute little green cupcake, and once more she was unable to keep her mind from wandering. In this very room, Lucius had served Tiffin on another fateful Saturday afternoon a little less than a year ago, and it had affected some people more than others. And with a jolt, Morgana realised that Bellatrix Lestrange was Narcissa's sister and wondered if Narcissa knew nothing of that affair either.

'I can hardly believe it's been over a year since I last saw you!' Narcissa exclaimed, taking the tiniest nibble of her cream slice.

'Time flies,' Morgana admitted. 'And I've been busy, what with exams and everything.'

And having an affair with your husband, she added silently in her mind, guilt creeping into the pit of her stomach. Not once over the last year had she thought of Cissy and how she would feel if she found out that her husband was having an affair, and not just with anyone, but the girl who she had bought dresses for last summer, the girl she had taught etiquette and how to walk in high heels.

'To think that you're now of age and have left Hogwarts...' Narcissa shook her head, as if in disbelief. 'Professor Snape told me you left with good grades.'

Morgana's eyebrows shot up. Snape had been talking to Cissy about her? Sure, she knew that he had been the one to suggest that Cissy invite her to tea, but somehow she had not thought that he and Cissy would have discussed her. And she had definitely not expected that Snape would have given any sort of praise.

'Professor Snape would not have allowed anything but good grades,' she said quietly.

At this, Narcissa laughed. 'Very true, very true. Severus is a demanding man.'

'Um, how's Draco doing?' Morgana asked uncomfortably. 'In school, I mean?' she clarified hastily. She knew full well the little ferret was a Death Eater in training, and she had no intention of going down that particular avenue with her hostess. Not now, anyway. Once she knew Narcissa better, once she had gained her trust, then she could mention the topic. Maybe.

'He is doing well, thank you,' Narcissa replied graciously. 'Draco's always been the same though: in the subjects he finds easy, he'll excel. It's the ones he has to work at that he dislikes.'

'I was asked to tutor him once, but that never happened,' Morgana admitted. 'Guess he didn't like the idea.'

'As I recall, when we spoke to Professor Snape about it, he quite rightly said that as you were in your NEWT year, it would have been too much work for you to take on. A shame, as I am sure he could have learned much from you.'

Or maybe not. Morgana suppressed a snort. 'I think Draco never really liked me,' she said instead, looking up at Narcissa with a slightly regretful look in her face.

'I'd heard there had been an... altercation between the two of you last year,' Narcissa offered tactfully.

Morgana bit her lip, managing to look really guilty in the process. 'Yes, I, um... we had a disagreement about my choice of friends.'

Narcissa nodded slowly.

'And he picked the wrong morning to start an argument. Ladies' problems, you know...' Morgana finished with embarrassment. Merlin, if Cissy knew what – who – exactly had caused her hormonal imbalance that day.

'Well, it's all water under the bridge now,' Narcissa responded briskly. 'I am sure you have moved on from it.'

Morgana nodded, casting down her eyes. If she were honest, she would tell Cissy that she'd love to tear Draco apart with her bare hands. But of course, she would keep quiet about that.

'So, how is life after Hogwarts?' Narcissa asked, eager to steer the conversation into less awkward territory.

'Even busier,' replied Morgana truthfully. 'Some days I wish I were back at school. Sleep until seven, have breakfast and start classes at eight-thirty. That was nice. Now I have to be at the Ministry at six or seven most of the days to exercise.'

'You're a trainee Auror, is that correct?' Narcissa enquired lightly.

'Yes, ma'am... Cissy, I mean,' Morgana corrected herself quickly. She couldn't help but feel like she was having tea with royalty, being around Narcissa Malfoy. Every inch of her screamed good breeding, good manners and exemplary taste. And she was also beautiful, which Morgana found very intimidating. It was hard to believe that Lucius chose to cheat on Narcissa with her, of all people. Once again, guilt squirmed in her stomach like a Flobberworm.

'That does seem to be a somewhat risky job for a witch such as yourself,' Narcissa said carefully.

'A witch such as myself?' Morgana scoffed. 'I'm nothing special.'

'Au contraire, Morgana Belakane!' Narcissa answered firmly. 'You come from a long line of pure-bloods. And as such, there are many ways you could make your mark in the world that would involve less personal risk on your account.'

Morgana put down her cupcake – on which she had barely nibbled – and looked at Cissy. 'Well, I could always get married and have babies,' she joked, but there was a sarcastic tone to her voice that betrayed her true feelings about this course of action.

Narcissa inclined her head. Clearly, the girl was on edge. 'There is nothing shameful in starting a family,' she replied softly.

'I doubt someone would have me,' Morgana replied darkly. 'There isn't much left of the Belakane fortune.'

'Now you are talking nonsense, my dear,' said Narcissa, not unkindly. 'There is the potential for a... well-connected pure-blood witch such as yourself to climb higher, both professionally and personally...'

Morgana looked at the blonde witch with a disbelieving look on her face. 'I'm afraid I do not quite understand.'

Narcissa put down her teacup daintily, considering her words carefully before continuing. 'You have been quite isolated at Hogwarts, with limited opportunities to mix within wizarding society,' she started. 'But that is about to change, Morgana. I can open those doors up for you. I can give you opportunities to seek power and influence, and to mingle with the upper echelons of wizarding society.'

Morgana frowned slightly. She knew the Malfoys had fallen from grace, so she couldn't see exactly what Cissy was getting at.

'I am not sure power and influence is what I seek,' she replied with a smile. 'I might have been sorted in the wrong house.'

'Morgana, dear,' Narcissa replied with infinite patience. 'People automatically think of ruthlessness when they think of the noble House of Slytherin. But that does little to describe our nature. What we truly want, is to be acknowledged for our full worth. And that is what makes us ambitious and, more often than not, seek power.' She paused, and looked at the young witch before her carefully. 'I fear that following a career as an Auror is not fulfilling your true potential.'

Morgana looked like she had been slapped in the face at this, but she managed to hide her outrage. She had heard those words before, but that time they had been wrapped carefully into sweet declarations of love, and she had not heard their true meaning. She had been too enchanted by the blond wizard who had spoken them.

'Then what, exactly, is fulfilling my full potential?' she asked, keeping her voice even.

'Well, that is for us to discover, is it not?' answered Narcissa pleasantly. 'And the best way to do that is to discuss options with some contacts in the higher corners of the wizarding world, who, I am sure, will be able to offer some very good advice.'

At this, Morgana looked down at the table. It appeared that, once more, she was getting in way out of her depth.

* * *

On the same day, but a few hours later, Charis and Grindling were sitting at a table by the window of an intimate little restaurant, nestled in the Scottish highlands and overlooking a loch. The sun was setting and casting a red-golden light over the dark water. There weren't many people in the restaurant, and those who were there all looked like lovers or newlyweds. But it wasn't the lovebirds that made Charis uncomfortable; this couldn't have been more different from the cosy pint they'd had in the Leaky Cauldron last week. This place looked expensive, high class, and she felt underdressed in her dark blue robes. She was not even wearing any jewellery, besides of course from the little silver necklace that she always wore.

'Would you stop fidgeting, Charis? You look lovely!' Grindling said with a smile.

Charis returned his smile nervously. 'I've never been anywhere as nice as this,' she confessed. 'I feel a little out of place.' She blushed at the admission. She was a Muggle-born, brought up on a council estate in Somerset. She felt as out of place here as a Horklump at a gnome convention.

Grindling, sensing his young belle's discomfort, leaned in and whispered, 'Would it make you feel better if I told you that my socks don't match?'

At this, Charis could not help but giggle. He had such a warm sense of humour.

'Honestly, you fit right in,' he continued with a grin. 'No need to be nervous.'

Charis grinned back gratefully, before glancing up and admiring the high ceiling, which was decorated ornately. Golden filigree swirls adorned the many bosses, which were interconnected by criss-crossed buttresses. 'It's really beautiful here.'

'Yes, it is,' Grindling agreed. 'It's not often I have the opportunity to come here. It's not a place one likes to visit on one's own.'

At this, Charis thought she detected a note of melancholy and, not for the first time, wondered why Grindling hadn't been snapped up already by a lucky witch.

Grindling also looked around at the marvellous décor, and there was an almost sad smile on his lips. But when he looked back at Charis, it was a happy smile again.

'Now, I know you'd like to go to a wine tasting, but to be honest, I have never really seen the point in sniffing, gurgling and then spitting the good stuff out again,' he confided. 'So, I thought we'd actually drink some wine and have a bite to eat. I hope that is alright with you.'

Charis smiled broadly. 'That sounds lovely. It does seem like a waste of good wine, to spit it out, after all.'

Grindling nodded. 'Indeed. I took the liberty of creating a little menu for us. I didn't know what you like, and if there's something you don't like, please do let me know. I wouldn't want you to eat something horrid just to please me.'

Charis raised her eyebrows in surprise. 'Oh, you've gone to so much effort!'

'It was a pleasure,' he replied, inclining his head slightly. 'Now, would you like to start?'

Charis replied eagerly in the affirmative, and Grindling imperiously waved for the waiter and whispered into the man's ear. The waiter nodded, gave Charis a meaningful look and then headed for the kitchen.

'I hope you like mushrooms.'

'I love mushrooms! How could anyone not love them? They are earthy little bundles of tasty fungus.' Charis cringed inwardly and blushed at her babbling. She was still feeling quite nervous.

Grindling smiled. 'My grandmother used to take me to the forest to pick mushrooms when I was a boy. I haven't done that for years. I miss it.'

Charis was interested to know more. 'Which forest did you live near?'

'Sherwood Forest.'

Charis had to suppress the thought of Grindling dressed as Robin Hood, complete with green tights. But before she could ruminate on this any further, the waiter returned with two plates. He was followed by a second waiter, who carried a bottle and two glasses.

'Chorizo stuffed mushrooms, madam,' the first waiter said, putting a plate in front of the blonde witch.

'Ooh, this looks delicious!' she replied, and Grindling gave her a quick smile.

'I'll take care of the bottle,' he instructed the second waiter and filled Charis' glass with bubbly goodness as the waiters retreated.

'Now, these little devilish mushrooms should be served with either beer or a dry sherry. But I don't care much for sherry, and we had beer the last time we were out. So, I thought we'd start with a nice glass of champagne.'

Charis picked up her champagne flute gingerly. She'd never had champagne before. At Christmas, her mum might get a bottle of Cava in, but as for real, proper champagne... She glanced at the label, not even able to guess how many Galleons it cost.

'Should we have a toast?' she asked, unsure of the etiquette.

'Be my guest,' Grindling replied, holding his glass aloft.

Charis thought for a moment and then said, 'To good food, good drink, and good company.'

Grindling grinned broadly at this. 'Hear, hear.'

Their glasses joined with a satisfying clink, and Charis found the champagne to be dry, fruity with a fresh taste of yellow apples and blood oranges.

'Oh, now that is rather nice!' Charis exclaimed after a sip.

'Should be,' Grindling replied, nonchalantly swirling his glass. 'It's elf made.'

Charis tried hard not to choke thinking about how much it cost. Elf-made wine was expensive. But elf-made champagne? Charis thought it would probably cost more than her monthly salary.

'Have a mushroom,' said Grindling, once more smoothing over Charis' feelings of awkwardness.

Charis dutifully cut one up, and the juices ran out tantalizingly on the plate.

'Mmm, that's a really good combination,' she said after a nibble. 'Meaty and earthy and a little spicy.' She paused. 'Nicey!' And immediately, she blushed again.

Why am I being an idiot? she chastised herself. Just be normal!

But Grindling smiled. He found her ever so adorable. 'I'm pleased to hear that.'

'Oh my, I'm feeling light-headed already!' Charis giggled after a few more sips of champagne.

Grindling faked a wolfish grin. 'It seems my plan is working, then.'

Charis looked mock-shocked at this. 'Mr Gibbons! Are you trying to get me drunk?'

Grindling leaned in. 'Would you mind?'

They gazed into each other's eyes for a moment before the waiter's polite cough disturbed them both. He swiftly removed the empty plates.

'They charge by the minute for a table here,' Grindling whispered conspiratorially. 'I guess they don't think we can afford to chatter too much.' He grinned boyishly.

Charis, already conscious of how much the meal was costing, replied with a worried, 'I hope you are joking!'

'Of course, I am,' he replied, amused at the young witch's manner.

'Good,' countered Charis, 'otherwise I'd take you for fish and chips instead.'

'Talking of fish, there's our next course.'

Charis looked up to see the waiter effortlessly placing her plate in front of her.

'Lemon marinated salmon with sesame dip,' he said with a flourish.

'And with it, a fruity Sauvignon Blanc,' Grindling added. The waiter had quickly learned and left the bottle on the table for Grindling to take care of it.

Charis looked almost disappointed as the champagne was taken away.

'I think you'll like this one. It's very fruity,' Grindling reassured her. 'Mangoes, pineapples, nectarines.' He put his nose in the glass and inhaled deeply. 'Pear, too. Add the grapes and you have your five a day.'

Charis giggled before taking a sip. The only white wine she'd tasted before was the disgusting Liebfraumilch that her mother insisted on serving for special occasions, believing it, in folly, to be the height of sophistication.

'Oh, it's very light,' she exclaimed. 'Very cleansing on the palate.' She was acutely aware that she had no idea what she was saying, but hoped she was sounding correct and not like an idiot.

Grindling smiled fondly. 'And you thought you didn't fit in here.'

Charis bit her lip, but Grindling admonished her.

'Don't do that.'

Charis looked down, suitably chastised, and started her salmon.

Grindling leaned forward, really low, and tried to catch her eyes. 'Did I say something wrong?'

'No, it's okay,' Charis murmured.

What could she say? That she felt guilty for part of her wishing that it was Severus sitting opposite her, treating her to this meal and being so attentive? That she felt that she didn't deserve such treatment? That she was unworthy, an ignorant pauper?

'The salmon looks great,' she said after some moments. 'I don't usually like salmon... sometimes the flavour can be overpowering. But the sesame dip takes the fishiness out of it, if that makes sense?'

Grindling nodded. 'Yes, it does.' He was still trying to catch her eyes and reached out to softly brush her hand with his. 'Are you still feeling uncomfortable?' he asked quietly.

Charis put down her knife and fork with a sigh. 'I hope I don't seem ungrateful...'

'Heavens, no!' Grindling replied forcefully. 'I might have gone a bit over the top. I tend to do that when I'm nervous. I really want you to enjoy this. We can go and have fish and chips if you'd prefer...' It appeared it was now Grindling's turn to babble, and Charis looked up at him earnestly.

'I am enjoying it, honestly. I'm just not used to such wonderful food and everything.' She didn't know how to begin to describe her torn feelings: of how she loved the luxury but felt like an imposter and how she appreciated Grindling's generosity and yet felt out of sorts at the same time.

'You should be used to it,' Grindling insisted. 'A lovely witch like you.'

Charis took a deep breath. 'I hope you know that you don't have to spend your money on me for us to have a nice time. I hope you know what I mean by that.'

She looked at Grindling meaningfully when she said this, and he blushed. She squeezed his hand gently, hoping he understood that she was not a gold digger and not merely attracted to him merely for what he could buy.

'I'd be happy eating chips by the seaside with you,' she murmured.

Grindling blushed even more. What a sweet, pure little Ravenclaw she was!

'I... I... I have a confession to make,' he began.

'Go on?' she answered curiously, removing her hand.

'My cousin owns this place. I promised to babysit his kids next weekend so I'm getting a good price here.' He smiled mischievously.

Charis could not help but laugh, and Grindling laughed too, relieved that the awkwardness seemed to have passed.

'So I'll have to do the washing up, is that it?' Charis asked playfully.

Grindling nodded. 'I'm afraid so.'

'Good job I know a good Scourgification spell then!'

The pair laughed again, and Charis could not help but notice that Grindling looked lovely when he laughed. The lines around his eyes were just too cute.

But then her attention was caught by a wonderful sight from the window: the sun was glowing deep red now, a huge scarlet orb just hovering over the loch.

'Ooh, look at the sun,' she breathed.

'It's beautiful,' Grindling agreed. 'Would you like to go outside to see?'

'If that's okay with you?'

'Dessert can wait.'

And with that, he took Charis on his arm and they left the restaurant and strolled slowly around the loch together. The trees and mountains were silhouetted by the fiery sky, the crimson sun turning the loch into molten lava.

'Charis,' Grindling started after a while. 'I... I hope... I mean...' He stopped, sighing. 'Oh, let me be frank: you did not just agree to accompany me because I am your boss, right?'

Charis looked up at him, surprised by his question. He always seemed so self-assured. 'You did not ask me out as your employee, did you?' she replied, hoping she had not misread the intent of the evening.

'No! Merlin, NO!' he answered urgently. 'I... I like you. As I said, I think you are a lovely young witch.' He blushed slightly at this.

'I... like you too.' Now it was Charis' turn to blush.

Grindling smiled and tenderly brushed her cheek with the back of his hand, and Charis felt a lot of things all at once: she enjoyed his touch, yet part of her was afraid. She'd been hurt before, and so part of her was holding back, even though it would have been the most natural thing in the world to lean into his hand.

'It's lovely watching the stars coming out,' she said instead, taking a small step away from him and staring at the deepening sky. 'Venus is always first at this time of year.'

Grindling nodded, hiding his disappointment quickly as his hand fell to his side, and he looked up, following her gaze. The stars were a lovely sight, but he would have preferred to see them reflected in Charis' green eyes.

'Oh, look! Shooting stars!' Charis said excitedly. 'Make a wish!'

Grindling squeezed his eyes shut and seemed to concentrate very hard before opening them again. 'Look,' he said with a smile. 'It worked.'

Charis looked at him, a puzzled smile on her face.

'I wished for a lovely witch to smile at me tonight,' Grindling clarified. 'And here you are.'

Charis could not help but blush yet again, but her smile lingered on her lips. 'You're so sweet.'

'Good thing I am sweet, because there will be cheese for dessert.'

Charis laughed again. 'I wonder if it will give me strange dreams.'

Her stomach clenched as she thought back to a particular dream she'd had only a few weeks ago. That had felt so real, and Severus' touch had awakened the passion in her so easily and had melted any pretence she'd had of forgetting him. Guilt began to nag at her, as she realised she should not be dwelling on her former teacher when on a date with someone else.

'Do you often have strange dreams?' Grindling asked, shaking her from her reverie.

'From time to time,' Charis admitted. 'I've been told I talk in my sleep sometimes too!'

Grindling looked at her carefully. 'You should meet a Seer. You might have the Gift.'

'Well, I always enjoyed Divination,' Charis explained.

'I can arrange for you to meet with a Seer,' Grindling offered. 'If you'd like to, that is.'

'That would be very interesting. Thank you!' Charis beamed at him.

'It's no big deal,' he replied. He paused, and then continued, 'You like stars a lot, don't you? I noticed your necklace. You wear it every day.'

Charis felt a warmth at his attentiveness. 'Yes, I do love Astronomy. It's such a treat to enter the Space Chamber at work! But there is something about the shape of the five pointed star that I find aesthetically pleasing.'

'Magic of old,' he mumbled in response, taking her by the hand and leading her slowly back to the restaurant.

After they had returned, they found that a second bottle of wine had already been uncorked and was breathing, waiting for them on the table. It was the darkest of red, almost purple. Its aroma was spicy, and there were hints of raisins, rosemary and dark chocolate. The cheese platter looked delicious, with all different types of cheeses and crackers, as well as chutneys, pickles and fruit.

Charis took a sip of the wine, before exclaiming, 'Wow!'

'Can you taste the prunes and the nutmeg?' Grindling asked eagerly.

Charis nodded. 'It's very deep... there's cherry in there, too?'

'It's one of my favourites,' Grindling said, clearly thrilled at Charis' response. 'I hope to drown in a barrel of it one day.'

'Make room for me!' Charis smiled, holding her glass aloft.

The rest of the meal passed in cosy chattering, Charis all but forgetting her nerves. And once they had finished, Grindling discreetly paid the bill whilst Charis powdered her nose.

'May I escort the lady to her door?' he asked, offering his arm to Charis for Side-Along Apparition.

'That would be very kind of you,' she replied and took hold of his arm. And he pulled her close to her chest, wrapping his other arm around her as to hold her tight.

Charis could not help but sink into his chest and wrap her arms around him, too. He smelled glorious; she wasn't sure what was in his aftershave, but it was undeniably manly and delicious.

As they Apparated in front of her door, neither one of them was in a hurry to let go of the other. Charis gave Grindling a little squeeze and in return, he gingerly stroked her hair.

'I had a very good time tonight, Charis. Thank you,' he said, at last releasing her and taking a reluctant half-step backwards.

'No, thank you! You went to all that effort, just for me. It was wonderful.'

'It was no effort, it was a pleasure.'

Charis looked at his eyes and his mouth, unsure of what to do or say. 'Thank you for seeing me home safely,' she said eventually.

Grindling gave an uncertain nod and inhaled several times as if he were about to say something. Finally, he leaned forward and placed the softest of kisses on Charis' cheek.

'I... I'll see you on Monday.'

Charis reached her hand to her cheek, stunned by the tenderness of the gesture and merely nodded in response as Grindling turned on his heel and Disapparated, wishing that the evening had not yet ended and that Monday would come around quickly.