Northern Crown [t.r]

Chapter Twenty Two

  The cottage was well lived in but clearly taken care of and Delilah immediately fell in love with it. The floors were dark wood with scratches here and there and mix matched carpets ran throughout the home. The lighting was warm and bathed all the paintings in a comforting glow. The eyes on the canvases didn't seem haunting like those at Hogwarts, but welcoming. Curious who these visitors were.

A savory scent filled the air, most likely coming from the kitchen. Mr. Potter gestured for them to sit and she spotted a worn and plush looking leather couch. But as they sat down, panicked gripped her heart. How in the hell were they going to convince this man to give them the cloak?

"Would you care for a drink?"

Tom hardly skipped a beat and smiled pleasantly. "Do you have wine?"

Potter nodded, "well this is a cause for celebration, isn't it? I'll be right back."

When he was out of earshot, Delilah turned to him with a brow raised. "Wine?"

"Don't you think this will all be easier if he's drunk?"

"I mean yes but," she bit her lip and fought back a blush of embarrassment. "Me being drunk definitely won't be helpful."

He shrugged. "You'll be fine. Worst case scenario you end up dancing on the table."

Delilah punched his arm but couldn't be too mad, especially with the way he was smiling at her. Though her expression fell into something more precautionary when he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a phial of clear liquid.

"What's that?"

"Calm down, I'm not poisoning the man." At her look of disbelief he rolled his eyes. "Veritaserum."

"Where the hell did you get that?"

"I always have something handy."

Before she could argue or even ask what else he had, Mr. Potter walked back into the room with three wine glasses and a bottle. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"No problem at all," Tom leaned back in his seat, encompassing it as if it was a throne and captivating Mr. Potter It was eerie how well he was able to command any space he was in, even a little homey cottage they'd only been in for a few minutes.

" I should've introduced myself properly, I'm Fleamont Potter."

"I'm Jacks and this is Charlotte," The lies slipped easily from Tom's mouth and her mind spun at the fake names, not realizing that was a part of the plan. That being said they didn't really have a plan so she decided to let Tom do all the talking.

Fleamont poured the wine and they fell into mundane small talk. She tuned out most of it until she felt Fleamont's eyes on her and he asked about wedding plans.

"Oh," she laughed nervously. "Well, not anything huge. Maybe a wedding in Italy but I'm not sure."

Tom raised a brow at her, looking weirdly interested. "Italy?"

She nodded giddily, playing the part of a love struck soon to be wife. "Along the Amalfi Coast. Oh, it'd be beautiful."

"The Amalfi Coast is gorgeous," Fleamont chimed. "I think a wedding there would be a dream come true."

Delilah took a drink of her wine and mulled spices coated her tongue. She felt warm and cozy almost instantly and she thought an actual wedding there wouldn't be such a bad idea. But the thought of marrying Tom seemed outlandish. Not that she didn't ever want to get married, but she couldn't imagine it was something he'd ever want. Marriage seemed too small a gesture for a man like him. Too human and heartfelt. His version of forever was to be gods amongst men; not her husband.