promise

hiding places

"Would you do me the honour of allowing me this dance?"

Elara glances up from where she'd been spearing her next chocolate-covered strawberry, finding herself face-to-face with a stocky, brunette wizard, one hand outstretched for hers, waiting.

She doesn't recognise him — which is not unusual for her, at Draco's work events — but the fact that he doesn't recognise her is new. Almost everyone in the Cursebreaker Department knows who she is — more because she's their star employee's wife, more than anything else.

Which was fine, she supposes. She doesn't really want to be remembered for the war — and she's hardly the only person who helped win it.

Elara gives the suitor a brief smile, holding up her left hand where the dainty snake-shaped ring lies, diamonds glittering in the lights of the chandelier. "I'm afraid not."

"Oh." The suitor straightens, hand dropping away. "My apologies. I—"

"Didn't know she was my wife?" 

Draco's presence behind her makes shivers dance down her spine, even after all these years.

His hand slides to her waist in a subtly possessive gesture as he comes up beside her, tugging her into his side. "Hi, darling," he murmurs, dipping his head to press a kiss to her mouth. "I see you've met Trent."

Trent's eyes flicker with surprise — and maybe, a tinge of fear — as he steps back, swallowing. "Oh, I—I didn't realise—"

"It's okay," Elara puts in, taking pity on him. "Really, there was no way for you to know."

Draco only leaves a lingering kiss on her hair, his eyes still fixed on Trent's.

"My apologies," Trent rushes to say, stumbling over his syllables, "once more. I never would've—I'm sorry."

And then he's gone, disappearing into the crowd, picking up a drink off a tray carried by one of the waiters as he does so.

Elara sighs, watching him go. "You oversized watchdog."

Draco scoffs underneath his breath, kissing her hair again. "He should know better."

"He's new, is he not?"

"Yes."

"Then how in Merlin's name was he supposed to know I'm your wife?"

Draco shrugs, nonchalant and uncaring — like he always is with everyone but her. "Should've figured it out. I put a ring on your finger and a baby inside you. I thought that would deter anyone stupid enough to try and seduce you—but if that isn't motivation enough..."

His voice trails off with that wicked lilt to it that Elara has come to love.

She finally turns to face him, sliding her hands to the lapels of his well-pressed suit, tilting her head back to meet his eye.

"Yes?" she purrs, arching an eyebrow at him — and he dips his head, nose grazing hers.

"Then maybe I should give you another."

"Another ring?" she teases, interlocking her fingers behind his neck as he presses his forehead to hers, warm hands sliding up her bare spine. She's glad she wore a backless dress, glad she gets to feel his skin on hers — like she always craves. "Or another baby?"

"Both," he murmurs in response, silver eyes glittering in the light of the chandelier.

Heat spreads wherever he touches, setting her nerve endings on fire. "Well," she says, steering the conversation back to Trent. "I'm not showing yet—and my wedding ring is hardly conventional. Besides, I doubt anyone checks if someone's wearing a wedding ring before they—"