An Unexpected Twist

[Lysander Malfoy]

Outside of the Ebon Rose, it was quiet. Almost eerily so, a clear, distinct barrier between it and the rest of Diagon Alley. It was looking well enough on the outside that no one suspected it might be a better fit for Knockturn Alley. But Lysander Malfoy was not someone who wanted to be seen with the likes of folk who wandered that cesspit. He might be a Malfoy with his own sense of justice, but he also had class.

Inside the Ebon Rose, the disguise faltered, but only slightly. The cheers from the dueling arena were still muffled to a quiet ruckus while in the foyer. As one might expect of someone of old money, the room was full of dark wood that shone in the light, supple leather on every surface one could sit on, and low lights that were enchanted chandeliers up above. There was a slight haze of cigar smoke in the air, but if one asked, the fear of smelling of such when departing was not a problem. There were rooms along the side that seemed to be private lounges, from what one could catch between the opening and closing of said doors. The bar with a glowing glass wall behind it displayed not only the spirits- some rare, some unique- but it also had a list of events for the dueling arena. Discreetly named lest someone think the guests were brutes.

However, a crash shook the chandeliers, raising the eyes of some of the guests in the main room for a moment before they checked the schedule and scoffed with amusement, seeing that Lysander himself was on the docket.

"Some poor fool made the mistake of challenging him again?"

"Same poor fool as last time," The bartender shook his head, "Thought he'd redeem himself from how thoroughly he was trounced last time."

"Sounds like that went really well for him," the patron barked, getting a laugh from the bartender in return.

In the dueling arena itself, Lysander stepped from the stage, putting his wand away, not even acknowledging the man he'd knocked back so hard and so fast the bets couldn't even begin to be made, not that anyone with any sense bet against Lysander. Not in his own domain. And no one was usually stupid or brazen enough to challenge him, either. Usually, because they ended up like the one that was just an imprint in the wall.

He made his way up the stairs to the viewing area, positioned up above so that betters and duelers alike could see who they might be up against and decide what risks they were willing to take. He didn't duel much anymore himself as much as clean up messes and enforce the very basic rules they had here, but, as many Malfoys before him, his reputation preceded him. The crowd parted a bit, even as they tossed jovial comments Lysander's way- comments about making it quick, about teaching him a good lesson this time, about how truly he was a scary person in the ring, all of which he smirked or chuckled at. It didn't matter to him what any of them really had to say.

Truthfully, the blackmail he had on each of them just from their time here was enough to ensure most would never be too reckless or bold with what they chose to say to anyone about the happenings of Ebon Rose. Not to mention the debts. He was walking towards the door, planning to head back to his office and get away from the noise, when the door to the arena opened, stopping him short.

[Davi Baptiste]

It hadn't taken terribly long, in fact Davi had been rather surprised at how quickly he'd received a message from Lysander. An invitation to the Ebon Rose? It wasn't exactly what he expected but he understood the location was important to the other man, while dueling wasn't terribly important to Davi; he'd always been the kind to show at least a passing interest in others hobbies. Especially ones he was interested in for other reasons.

Usually he had much better control over himself when it came to matters of interest and attraction but a certain Malfoy had been haunting his thoughts and dreams since that first meeting. Mentally shaking off those particular thoughts he let himself settle mentally before he absently smoothed his hands down the front of his jacket, beneath his trusty corset vest held firm; such had been a savior for his back and posture with as much as he either sat or stood all day. Today his suit was more fitting to his mood, black and white. Honest but still guarded.

More so in an environment Davi wasn't entirely comfortable in, after all dueling seemed to be considered more a manly sport and while Davi certainly was that; he'd never ascribed to that sort of manliness in his life except when necessary to survive. Or pass. However, one wanted to see it. He'd brushed his hair till the waves lay smooth and he hadn't shaved. Rare for him but with the children being out on holiday he didn't feel the need to clean up quite as much as he normally did.

It changed his appearance far more than it should have, took away some of that babyface he was usually known for but Davi didn't mind. More often than not he found it entertaining, meeting someone one way and then appearing differently even minutely threw them off. It wasn't as if he grew a full beard, hardly but it was just enough to make him look different; older, more mature or manly as another might describe him. And that was the point today as he approached the door. The location was curious but he didn't think about it too hard, his mind was already on the man inside and wondering just why the invitation had come to visit him again here.

Stepping inside he was surprised once his dark eyes adjusted to the light to spot him almost immediately and flashed him a pleased smile along with a slight bow of his head. Approaching him he casually slipped a hand into his pants pocket as he looked at him, "You called, I came…" A tease. A subtle enough one he felt given the crowd and he'd spoken it just loud enough to be heard over the noise of the crowd but low enough that only Lysander would have caught every word.

[Lysander Malfoy]

Lysander watched Davi as he approached, sliding his own hands into his pockets in a way that showed he was comfortable here in this dark space, not even seeming to care about the fact that two more duelists were heading into the arena and bets were starting to be called.

He was more than a little unabashed in his eyes roaming over Davi before returning to his face, a smirk coming to his face. Well. Was there no end to the ways this man was captivating every part of his attention? He'd debated on the invite for months. It was rare that he invited new faces to the Rose, enough that it had people glancing over, trying to be nosey, but unable to hear in the noise around them. Not raucous, but enough people talking over each other to make it hard to hear a more normal conversation.

He bowed his head in return, "So you did." The way he said it could almost have been taken as a purr, clearly pleased that he had come. "Though I did hope to show the more classy parts of my establishment, as opposed to this," he motioned towards the arena. Because he'd been in the ring himself, he was in a basic button-up shirt and trousers, his sleeves rolled up and a few buttons at the top undone.

"But I suppose it's fair you get to see the whole deal. The only thing I hide is my hair," he ran his hand through the brown curls, and the glamour was disrupted enough to give glimpses of the white blonde beneath it, but it didn't come completely undone. A callback to the conversation about it on their walk. He'd already admitted to hiding it, so saying he didn't hide anything would be a lie. He was surprisingly honest for a man who ran a business like this. Made it easier to get people to believe a lie if you've established yourself as impeccably honest. "Will you allow me the distinct pleasure of a tour, though? There are parts of this place meant for more respectable company," he chuckled lightly, motioning towards the door back out into the main room.

[Davi Baptiste]

He didn't miss the way Lysander looked him over before meeting his gaze, the feeling was certainly mutual as Davi took in his own attire. It was decidedly less formal than he'd seen him dressed before and it gave so many more hints as to what else Lysander hid besides his white blond hair. And when he even went so far as to give him a peek of that, Davi had to remind himself to keep his knees locked at the mental image that came with it. "Understandable, as you explained. Besides we all hide things, some are just less important than others."

He hid a lot. And he knew it too.

But that was neither here nor there at the moment as he took in his surroundings before focusing his attention completely back on Lysander. The invitation to a tour of the location got a little smile, "I would be honored to receive a guided tour from you." He'd more or less imagined that Lysander would be busy but as it turned out, the club seemed to run itself. Obviously he'd put a lot of work into making that happen and Davi had to give credit where due that he'd done it rather well.

Motioning with the hand not resting in his pocket he smiled at him, "After you." He was more than happy to follow along and let Lysander lead him wherever he decided too. It wasn't as if the actual dueling area held much of his curiosity after all, that was saved entirely for the man in front of him. When Lysander began to walk he followed, easily keeping stride and surprised none when those who might be in their path moved out of the way. Certainly had to be due to Lysander because Davi never got that reaction on his own.

[Lysander Malfoy]

"Well, I suppose that's fair since I don't exactly go announcing to the world what happens in this room. A bit like that muggle movie," he said, smirking at his reference to Fight Club even if the reference was lost on Davi. Seeing his smile eased something in Lysander. He wouldn't deny he was a bit afraid that his machismo would turn off someone obviously more classy, like Davi.

With a light hand on Davi's shoulder to walk with him back to the door, also making it clear to anyone with slick fingers not to even try it, as Davi was with him. When they were back in the main foyer, he closed the door behind them, and it was as if a mute spell had been cast over the room, as it dimmed back into a noise that sounded further away than it was.

"One of these days, boss, you're going to send them through the wall," the bartender said to them with a smirk.

"Nonsense, Jacob," Lysander said with a chuckle, "I know my own strength well enough to not do actual property damage," he assured him, "I would hate to spend the money on the repairs." That part got a snort of a laugh in response as Lysander turned his attention back to Davi fully.

"Might as well start here with that tour," he motioned to the room around them, though they were at the top of a set of stairs in the room, there being no bottom entrance straight into the pit. You had to face your opponents in that viewing box before taking them on in the arena. The lack of other forms of egress tended to keep people from getting too dirty. "There are plenty of guests you don't go beyond the lounge, either just here to get some good spirits from Jerald, some that are necessarily approved to be served elsewhere," and maybe some that weren't entirely legal, "Or they're here to use the private booths to have discussions on business matters that would be frowned on at normal establishments but all of us would rather not mar ourselves by nearing Knockturn Alley. I personally hope to never walk that particular set of cobblestone ever again," his mask slipped a little at the disgust he seemed to bear for that part of the wizarding district.

"There is another room at the other end of the arena hall that is for more... serious betting, though plenty of it happens right there in the viewing area, which I can take you to if you wish to see it, and a set of back rooms, but I won't worry you with those. They're where my business happens. I'm not in the arena much myself anymore, though that absence does sometimes lead some to believe they can beat me, hence why I was in there just now. I tried to get them to wait, but" he shook his head. He'd said he was busy, and the brat of a man thought to goad him, to say he wasn't taking him up on it and was stalling cause he knew he'd lose. Which, considering Lysander had already beaten him once, had admittedly gotten him a little incensed at the audacity. Not just challenging him in his own dueling hall, but also the disrespect.

"However, it would be strange to name a place after a rose, and there be no plants at all, right?" he smirked before starting down the stairs, "There are a few guests who used the greenhouse, there are tables set up, and we even do tea. As much as the arena probably makes us all seem like brutes, we do try to have a little class," he chuckled as he looked to Davi, looking to see if he was still following him.

"Shall I tell anyone lookin for you to look another time?" Jerald asked realizing Lysander was definitely engaged in whatever was happening with this newcomer.

"That would be appreciated."

[Davi Baptiste]

Davi moved easily at Lysander’s side, his pace unhurried but attentive, dark eyes taking in everything without seeming to linger too long on any one detail. It was a habit: observe, catalog, understand and the Ebon Rose offered no shortage of things worth noting. The layout, the controlled access, the careful balance between indulgence and discretion… it was all very deliberate.

“Mm,” he hummed softly as Lysander explained, his gaze drifting over the bar, the private doors, the subtle separation of spaces. “You’ve created layers,” he observed. “Different thresholds depending on what someone is willing or permitted to engage in.” A faint smile touched his lips. “It’s… elegant.” His attention flicked briefly to the bartender at the exchange, amusement warming his expression before he returned his focus to Lysander. “And efficient,” he added. “You don’t strike me as someone who leaves much to chance.”

As they moved, Davi let himself be guided without resistance, though the earlier touch to his shoulder hadn’t gone unnoticed. If anything, it lingered; less the contact itself, more the intent behind it. He didn’t comment, but the slight shift in his posture as they walked closer than strictly necessary said enough. At the mention of Knockturn Alley, Davi’s expression dimmed just slightly; not disagreement, but understanding of the distaste. “Some places leave a mark whether you intend them to or not,” he said quietly. “Avoiding them when you can is… a kind of wisdom.”

When Lysander spoke of the arena and his absence from it, Davi glanced at him, something thoughtful in his gaze. “Reputation has a way of inviting challenges,” he said. “Especially from those who mistake distance for weakness.” A faint smirk followed. “I imagine they learn quickly.” Then, the greenhouse. Davi’s brows lifted, genuine surprise breaking through his usual composure as he followed him down the stairs. “A greenhouse?” he echoed, interest immediately piqued. His gaze shifted ahead, as if he could already picture it before seeing it. “I didn’t expect that.”

Whatever he had imagined about the Ebon rose seemed to settle into something quieter, more appreciative. The contrast alone was enough to draw a soft exhale from him. “I see the appeal,” he murmured, stepping further in, his attention moving over the space with a different kind of focus now; less analytical, more… present. “A place to breathe, away from the noise. To conduct business without needing to raise your voice over it.”

He glanced back at Lysander then, the hint of a smile returning. “And tea,” he added, amused. “You do have a talent for contradiction.” There was a brief pause before Davi stepped a fraction closer, just enough that his next words didn’t carry beyond Lysander. “I wouldn’t call you a brute,” he said quietly. It wasn’t said defensively, just… certain.

Pulling back, he let the moment pass as easily as it had come, hands slipping back into his pockets. “If anything,” he continued more lightly, “I’d say you’ve put a great deal of effort into ensuring people underestimate you in very specific ways.” His gaze lingered for a second longer than necessary, something knowing in it now. “And I imagine that works exactly as intended.”

At Jerald’s comment, Davi’s attention flicked briefly back toward the bar, catching the implication easily enough. When he looked back to Lysander, there was a subtle shift; recognition, perhaps even appreciation. “You’re a busy man,” he said, tone mild but not dismissive. “I’ll try not to keep you from your empire for too long.” The faint curve of his mouth suggested he didn’t entirely mean it.

[Lysander Malfoy]

He took in Davi's observations as if they were the most important critiques he'd had of his space. He'd rarely considered bringing someone into it who might not be entirely into the premise behind it. Or someone he wasn't sure was or wasn't. He didn't bring people here; he wasn't usually 1000% sure he knew he could trust them. He didn't permit those vouched for by others until he'd investigated himself. Davi was a risk, but one he was willing to take.

He gave a nod to say that Davi had the right of it, of his thinking of there being certain thresholds. No one had to get their hands dirty to enter Ebon Rose, but if they were unwilling to do so, this lounge might be the only room they ever saw. "I don't prefer it, no," he said to the comment about chance, "Not when chance has not been too helpful in the past."

He nodded to Davi's observations, "There is that, but I also have enough ghosts to deal with than the one the Malfoys have left behind in that alleyway. And yes, they usually do. I suppose it keeps the rust away if nothing else." Seeing his interest piqued at the greenhouse made Lysander smirk, "Not many do," he said, "In fact, some don't even know it's there, but a breath of fresh air is always good to clear your head," he shrugged. He seemed to ease himself, though, hearing the summation of his observation like he'd been prepared for a much worse conclusion.

He chuckled at the comment about contradiction, but his quiet statement seemed to strike right to the heart of it. Lysander actually looked a bit surprised for a moment, then a softer smirk came to his face, and he gave a sort of nod of his head to say he appreciated that. Then he cleared his throat, "That's certainly one way to put it," he smirked again, "I'd tell you more, but that's a conversation for my office," he chuckled, "Can't be giving away all my trade secrets in the open."

As he spoke of not keeping him long, a different smirk came to Lysander's face, "Oh no, please do," he said, just a touch more sensually, before leading Davi towards the gardens.

He led him down a somewhat short corridor that had two doors off to the side, one of which had a clearly more substantial lock on it than the other, "My office is through this door," he said as he motioned to the one with the lock, "And that leads to the kitchen. We don't serve much food, so it's just a basic kitchen," he explained before opening the door at the end of the hall. It was already different-looking than the rest, the door having a slightly green hue, and as he opened it, it was clear Lysander had layered spaces, always making it seem bigger on the other side.

The garden was in a greenhouse, which seemed to be how he created this space, and it featured a variety of flowers and trees throughout. The plants were in raised beds, allowing them to flourish year-round, and the elegant feel of the interior carried through to the planters, beds, and even the tables and chairs placed throughout. The tables were black wrought-iron and circular, with matching chairs. Though the chairs did have clean, plush-looking cushions attached. There were obviously rose bushes, dormant for the time being, but several types of flowers were blooming around the greenhouse, as if he'd picked plants specifically so there was never a season when something wasn't bringing life to the space.

"When spring and summer roll around, I hope you'll be willing to come again and see them all in full bloom." Laying the invitation out now. Hopeful they would still be... interested in one another long enough to show him.

[Davi Baptiste]

Davi followed without hesitation, though there was a subtle shift in him the further they moved from the main room; less guarded, perhaps, or simply more himself now that the weight of observation had thinned. His attention lingered briefly on the doors Lysander pointed out, noting the heavier lock with quiet interest, but he didn’t press. Not yet. When the greenhouse door opened, though…

That caught him.

Davi stepped through more slowly this time, his usual measured pace giving way to something almost… unguarded. His gaze lifted, tracing the structure, the way the space breathed despite being enclosed, the careful cultivation of life within it. For a moment, he said nothing at all. Then, softly almost to himself, “Will wonders never cease.” His tone was quiet appreciation.

He wandered a few steps further in, one hand slipping from his pocket to brush lightly along the edge of a planter, not disturbing anything; just feeling the presence of it. The greenery, the subtle scents, the quiet hum of something alive and tended. It suited him in a way the arena never could. “I can see why you keep this close,” he added, glancing back over his shoulder at Lysander. “It’s… different. Intentional in a quieter way.”

At the invitation, Davi’s mouth curved, and this time the smile carried something unmistakably warmer; something that lingered. “I wouldn’t dream of missing seeing it in full bloom,” he said, voice smooth, but certainly layered with some deeper meaning as well. His gaze drifted, deliberately now, taking Lysander in once over; unhurried, appreciative before returning to meet his eyes.

The moment stretched just long enough to be felt. Then, just as seamlessly, Davi shifted; hands returning to his pockets as he turned slightly, continuing his slow circuit of the space. “So,” he went on lightly, as if they hadn’t just crossed that line, “we’ve covered the arena, the lounge, the private rooms, ...and now this. Though I seem to recall you mentioning your office as well.” He glanced back again, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips.

“Is there anything else you’d like to show me?”

[Lysander Malfoy]

Lysander looked over to Davi as he stepped out into the garden and gave a small, genuine smile, seeing his appreciation of probably the most carefully constructed space.

"Sometimes just getting outside feels like getting a new battery," Lysander shrugged a little. Hearing that he wanted to come back to see the bloom made him smirk. "I look forward to seeing your reaction."

When Davi gave him a once-over in return, a bit more of a sultry smirk came to his face, though as he started to reply, he glanced up into one of the trees, a trilling before a black barn owl swooped down to land on the back of one of the chairs, "Asphodel, be polite, and go back to bed," he waved and the owl gave a little shriek, though didn't move, clearly giving an attitude over being woken up.

Lysander shook his head with a huff of a laugh, then looked back to Davi, "Her dramatics aside, yes, I do actually have something I want to show you in my office," he said, "Actually, the better verb would be something I want to give you," he smirked a little realized the double entendre, "Apologies, let's head back inside," he cleared his throat before going over and opening the door to the inside once more.

"I promise I'll behave myself."

[Davi Baptiste]

Davi’s attention shifted the moment the owl swept down, whatever he’d been about to say lost entirely to the sudden, graceful intrusion. His expression softened almost instantly, something genuinely delighted flickering across his features as he watched her settle. “Asphodel,” he greeted gently, voice warm with quiet fondness. He dipped his head slightly toward her in a small, respectful acknowledgment. “My apologies, we didn’t mean to disturb your rest.”

At Lysander’s comment, Davi’s smile deepened just a touch as he glanced back at him. “I think she has every right to be dramatic,” he said lightly. “We are, after all, intruding on her space.” Huginn may not have been present, but the ease with which Davi addressed the owl made it clear this was not unfamiliar territory for him.

His attention lingered a moment longer before shifting back to Lysander at the mention of his office and something to give him. One brow lifted, curiosity immediate and unhidden now, the faintest hint of intrigue threading through his expression. “Oh?” he murmured, the single word carrying more interest than the syllable should reasonably hold.

At the accidental double entendre, Davi let out a soft, amused breath, the corner of his mouth curving as he stepped back toward the door. “I’m not entirely convinced you mean to behave,” he replied, tone light but edged with something knowing. “But I suppose I’m willing to find out.” He slipped out into the corridor, pausing just beyond the threshold, hands settling once more into his pockets as he waited for Lysander to lead the way.

Curious now, perhaps more than he ought to be.

[Lysander Malfoy]

Asphodel made a chittering sound as Davi addressed her, dark wings puffed up before Lysander stepped closer, gently scratching the top of her head. Her eyes closed, and she leaned into it. "She's a tad spoiled, too, so that doesn't help," he chuckled, shaking his head. When he took his hand away, she shook out her feathers, "nipping" at his fingers before flying back up into one of the trees.

When Davi said he was willing to find out, Lysander smirked again. "Careful, you might tempt me to truly not," he mused in a slightly more gravelly tone before following him in and moving toward the office door. He pulled the key out of his pocket, and Davi might notice a string attached to it, tying it to a stone imbued with something. A charm of sorts, so he would always know if someone tried to take the key.

With the turn of the key in the lock, there was a sound not too dissimilar to the sounds of a door in the vaults of Gringotts opening, before Lysander opened the door. Just inside was a set of stairs already stained a cherry color, more than the ebony of the rest of the establishment. Still had a very classic feel with the railing, though, trying it in. "Right this way," he said to Davi with another smirk before starting up the stairs. His office was a fairly large space, the walls lined with bookshelves, the books on them ranging from modern to ancient, some wrapped in protective covers simply on the shelves for the sake of organization. There were also a couple of tables by a large window that looked down toward the greenhouse, and looking out the window, Davi might realize that the door to the garden and the door to the office were no ordinary doors at all, because they were not in Diagon Alley. Instead, they were on some grand estate, though where it was located wasn't clear, as it was surrounded by the woods, with a driveway disappearing into the trees. They were on the side of the house, it seemed, and the grounds were immaculate.

However, Lysander went straight to the large oak desk at the back of the room, centered there. His papers were neat, the space almost meticulous, but when you dealt with moving wares, it was best to be organized. "I get some interesting items that pass through me," he mused as he walked to his desk, putting his hand on a crate that had shipping stamps on the side to show it had been to quite a lot of places before it ended up in his hands, "This one originates from Haiti," he said as he opened the top of the crate, "I did alright at Divination while I was in school, and I remember these being useful tools, if one knows how to use them properly," he shifted the straw packing material to the side before producing an obsidian scrying mirror wrapped in wire in an artistic kind of way, "The Manbo that used it was a major figure within her community, and they created the frame from the remnants of conflicts that happened on Haitian soil, I believe is what they said," he explained it as he walked it to Davi, holding it out to him, "When I saw it, I just couldn't let it pass on to someone who wouldn't appreciate it."

[Davi Baptiste]

Davi followed him up without hesitation, though the moment they crossed into the office space, something in him stilled. It wasn’t the books: though he noted them, the age, the care, the quiet reverence in how they were kept. It wasn’t even the desk, the order, the unmistakable precision of a man who controlled every variable he could. It was the window.

Davi drifted toward it almost unconsciously, gaze narrowing slightly as he took in what lay beyond. The greenhouse below; yes, but further than that… the estate. The trees. The distance from where they should have been. “…layered spaces,” he murmured under his breath, more to himself than to Lysander, the faintest hint of appreciation threading through the observation. Not simple magic. Intentional. Controlled.

He didn’t linger long. Because Lysander moved and Davi’s attention followed. The moment the crate opened, something in him sharpened. Not outwardly, not in a way that would seem abrupt, but there was a clear shift in focus. When the mirror was revealed, Davi’s breath caught; quiet, but real. Without thinking, his coat was shrugged off and draped carefully over the back of a nearby chair, his hands now free as he stepped closer.

When Lysander held it out, Davi didn’t rush. He accepted it with care; respectfingers finding the weight of it, the balance, the craftsmanship. His touch was steady, but deliberate, as if he understood instinctively that this was not something to handle carelessly. He didn’t reach for it magically. Didn’t probe. He simply looked.“It’s…” His voice softened, genuine awe slipping through before he could temper it. “Incredible.”

His thumb traced just along the edge of the frame; not activating, not testing, just appreciating the work, the intention behind it. “Beautiful,” he added, quieter still. For a moment, it was just him and the mirror. The reflection of the room faint against its dark surface, the sense of something deeper beneath it; waiting. Then his attention lifted back to Lysander, curiosity threading through the lingering admiration.

“What are you going to do with it?”he asked. There was no assumption in the question. No immediate leap to meaning. Just honest interest; professional, yes… but something more personal beneath it too. Because whatever this was…It mattered. And now, so did the answer.

[Lysander Malfoy]

Hearing Davi say "layered spaces" brought a smirk to Lysander's face. He'd cared enough to investigate and notice that this was no longer the club. Of course, he would. Davi's attention would turn back to Lysander just as Asphodel flew from the greenhouse, flying up towards the room, though toward some part of the wall.

Lysander seemed rather pleased with Davi's reaction, though it was more because he had been right that it was something Davi would, in fact, appreciate. He leaned against the side of his desk, crossing his arms as Davi inspected the mirror, waiting to speak again until he was asked the question, though he reached into the crate again, producing the silken bag it had actually been wrapped inside before Lysander pulled it out, setting it on the desk for Davi to be able to use if he desired to.

He shrugged. "What am I doing with it? Giving it to you." He said simply, "The original buyer doesn't even know what I found. I can find them another. This one just didn't feel like it belonged in the hands of someone with a passing fancy." He glanced up at a screech, and Asphodel went hopping across the top of a bookshelf, the hidden entrance for her tucked up just above the shelves. She looked over at them long enough for Lysander to call her "Nosey" before she hopped on through another hatch in the wall to go further into the house.

[Davi Baptiste]

Davi went very still.

Not rigid just… stilled, as if the moment had pressed pause on everything but thought. “…you’re…” he started, then stopped himself, a soft breath leaving him as he recalibrated. His gaze dropped briefly back to the mirror in his hands, as if confirming it hadn’t somehow changed meaning between one heartbeat and the next. “Giving it to me,” he repeated, quieter now. Not disbelief, just careful processing.

His fingers adjusted slightly on the frame, more mindful now of its weight, its history, the intention behind the gesture. The silken bag didn’t go unnoticed, but he didn’t reach for it yet. For a moment, he didn’t look at Lysander. And then he did. There was something different in his expression now; not guarded, not quite vulnerable, but… searching. Trying to understand the shape of something unfamiliar.

“I don’t…” He paused again, choosing his words with more care than usual. “I can’t remember the last time something like this was simply… given.” No accusation. No suspicion voiced outright. Just truth. His gaze held Lysander’s a second longer before softening, curiosity threading back in—gentler this time, but no less present.

“What made you think of me?” he asked. The question wasn’t sharp. It wasn’t defensive. If anything, it was… quiet. Genuine. Because the mirror was one thing. But the why...

That mattered far more.

[Lysander Malfoy]

Lysander tilted his head to the side as he watched his reaction. It surprised him that a gift would land quite as it did. It was a confused gratitude. The statement that confirmed it was almost devastating. "That indicates that I've stopped doing that since I've met you, to be completely honest." He said with his usual directness. "But I remembered that you are Miral's Divination professor, the crystal ball you had when we were talking in the Broomsticks...And the way you carry yourself. There's a quality to your presence that told me you'd understand the difference between what something costs and what it's worth," he murmured.

He lowered his hands to be on either side of him on the desk, not taking his eyes off Davi, "Any gift with strings is a favor," he said, "I don't want anything in return for it, seeing how much you appreciate it is enough for me," he said simply. "I've been nothing but honest with you, haven't I?" He motioned to the space around them, indicating the fact he'd brought him into his home. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had someone who wasn't family here, forbidding most others beyond his staff.

[Davi Baptiste]

Davi listened in silence, the mirror still cradled carefully in his hands as Lysander spoke.

That indicates that I’ve stopped doing that since I met you…

The words settled somewhere deep and warm before he could stop them. For all Lysander’s confidence, his sharpness, his carefully controlled world; there was something profoundly sincere in the way he spoke to him. No games layered beneath the honesty. No hidden hook buried in the kindness. Just… truth, offered plainly. And Merlin, Davi didn’t know what to do with that.

His gaze dropped briefly, not out of discomfort but because the feeling of it threatened to show too openly across his face. The faint smile that touched his mouth this time was softer than before, less guarded. “You notice far too much,” he murmured, though there was no real complaint in it. Carefully, reverently almost he reached for the velvet bag and slid the mirror inside, taking obvious care not to let the obsidian touch anything that might mar it. Once it was safely wrapped, he set it gently atop the desk beside Lysander’s hand rather than carrying it around carelessly.

Only then did he step closer. “I do appreciate it,” Davi said quietly, lifting his eyes back to his. “More than I think I can properly explain.” And he meant that in more ways than one now. At Lysander’s question, Davi’s expression softened further. He glanced briefly around the office again, the books, the estate beyond the windows, the private world he’d been allowed into.

“Yes,” he answered simply. “You have.” The admission hung between them for a heartbeat. Then Davi did what he’d been restraining himself from wanting to do nearly all evening. He closed the remaining distance. One hand came up lightly; not possessive, not demanding just enough to rest briefly against Lysander’s chest as he leaned in and kissed him.

It wasn’t rushed. Nor overly hesitant. Warm. Intentional. Affectionate in the way only someone naturally inclined toward tenderness could be. A thank you. An answer. And perhaps, finally, an admission of interest that words had only danced around until now. When Davi pulled back, it wasn’t far. His eyes searched Lysander’s face briefly, the corners of his mouth curving faintly despite himself.

“That,” he said softly, a touch breathless now, “felt worth giving something in return for.”

[Lysander Malfoy]

Lysander watched him, watched his eyes and face to try and read what he was feeling, read whether he had made some kind of mistake, but then he saw the smile and felt himself breathe again. He kept watching as he stepped closer to him. When he closed the distance, Lysander almost didn't breathe, and then his lips were on his. One of Lysander's hands moved to Davi's side, leaning down just the little bit that he needed.

However, as Davi leaned back, he'd feel... the brush of Lysander's hair against his cheek, and opening his eyes, he'd find the glamour gone. He smirked in response to his statement, gently holding him close. His grip was loose enough that Davi could move away if he wanted, but he felt like they were moving past the little dance, at least while in his home.

"Well, I'm glad you feel that way," he murmured. "You don't ever have to pay me back for anything, ever," he said, to be clear. "But I certainly don't mind if you want to do that again," he smirked.

[Davi Baptiste]

The brush of pale hair against his cheek startled him just enough that Davi blinked when he pulled back, dark eyes immediately lifting to Lysander’s face again. And promptly forgetting how to breathe for a second time that evening. Without the glamour, there was something sharper about him. Colder perhaps to anyone else but not to Davi. If anything, it only made the warmth in Lysander’s expression stand out more dangerously against the silver-blond curls now spilling free around his face.

Davi stared for half a heartbeat too long before a quiet laugh escaped him, helpless and genuine.“I’ve just decided,” he murmured, voice lower now, softened by obvious admiration, “that it is entirely unfair how devastatingly handsome you are.” The compliment slipped out before he could stop it. Not that he particularly wanted to.

His hand lifted almost instinctively, fingers threading carefully into those pale curls now that he finally could. The texture of them seemed to fascinate him briefly, thumb brushing lightly near the nape of Lysander’s neck before his hand settled there comfortably. “You hide this?” he added softly, amused disbelief flickering across his features. “Cruel.”

And then, because restraint had already become a losing battle somewhere between the greenhouse and the mirror, Davi tugged him gently back down into another kiss. This one lingered longer. Less tentative than the first. Still affectionate at its core, but warmer now, touched with the growing confidence of someone realizing their interest was not only returned but welcomed. His fingers curled slightly against the back of Lysander’s neck as he kissed him, Davi melting into it with dangerous ease before finally pulling back just enough for breath.

“That,” he whispered near his lips, a faint smile pulling at his mouth again, “might have been worth breaking your promise to behave.”

[Lysander Malfoy]

Lysander chuckled at the admission that came without being totally bidden, "Hmm, I think I understand the sentiment," he mused. It was like he'd been without air and just never realized why it always felt like he couldn't breathe. He almost closed his eyes, feeling his hand in his hair, but watched his expression, smirking at his response to his hiding his hair. He gave a slight shiver at feeling his touch at the nape of his neck, like his own restraint was being tested.

Lysander came without resisting, gladly kissing him again, leaning into him, sliding his arms around him after one hand pushed the mirror lightly back a bit further from the edge of the desk, not wanting it to fall off if something were to potentially make the desk move, "Oh, but I still am," he murmured, "I don't think you know what you do to me," he smirked a bit, before kissing him again before shifting them so that Davi was the one up against the desk with Lysander putting his hands on either side of him on the desk, before pulling back again, though still not far, "How are you already my undoing?"

[Davi Baptiste]

Davi absolutely noticed the shiver. And the realization that he had pulled that reaction from Lysander sent a warm thrill straight through him. But it was the shift in position that nearly undid him in return. The sudden pressure of the desk at his back, Lysander braced around him, broad and solid and entirely too close; it pulled a sharp breath from Davi before he could stop it. His body reacted instantly despite his best efforts to keep it subtle, heat curling low in his stomach as he looked back up at him.

Merlin.

That was unfair. Still, outwardly, he managed to keep most of his composure intact, even if the slight dilation of his pupils and the slower cadence of his breathing betrayed him a little. “You say that,” Davi murmured softly at the claim he was still behaving, lips curving faintly, “but it sounds suspiciously like you’re trying to convince yourself.” His fingers stroked slowly along the back of Lysander’s neck again, savoring the feel of soft hair against his skin while his other hand settled more confidently against Lysander’s back. And there it was, that solid strength he’d suspected beneath the tailored clothes and composed demeanor.

Davi’s expression warmed with unmistakable appreciation. It only made the situation more dangerous. At the question about being his undoing, a grin finally broke fully across his face, softer than smugness but no less pleased by the admission. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “But I’d very much like to thank whatever force decided to make it so.” Then, after a beat, his gaze searched Lysander’s face again, curiosity slipping through the haze of attraction now curling tighter around him.

“But…” His thumb brushed lightly at the nape of Lysander’s neck again. “Why hold back?” The question was genuine, not teasing. “If this is you behaving,” he added softly, voice lower now, “I find myself curious what exactly you’re restraining.” It wasn't lost on him the amount of restraint he had his own self under right then, but no one had ever actually caused him to break his, not yet at least.

[Lysander Malfoy]

Lysander’s muscles at his back were taut, like he was gripping the desk to keep his hands in check, giving a bit more credence to his statement of trying to still behave. "I don't usually believe in luck or the divine," he murmured, trailing off to indicate that perhaps now he did with whichever force put them in each other's paths.

The question brought a husky laugh from him, a sound of almost exasperation, "Because I'm not trying to be... hasty... with everything I want to do to you," He muttered, "Even though you make it so... very... hard..." his hands would shift back to Davi's waist before he would lift him to be actually seated on the side of the desk.

He leaned back into him, running one hand across Davi's thigh as the other stayed at his waist, "I've never...felt the kind of... fire you put in my veins, not like this," he breathed, "Gods, what I want to do with you," he almost growled it before kissing him again, needier than before. Every kiss, touch, gasp, and look was just one more brick in the tower of his self-control being knocked out of place.

[Davi Baptiste]

The moment Lysander lifted him onto the desk, Davi felt another dangerous rush of heat coil through him. Not fear. Not surprise. Something far more willing.

It was effortless for him too, and Davi would be lying if that didn’t affect him perhaps more than it should have. The solid grip at his waist, the broadness of him pressing closer between Davi’s knees, the hand sliding across his thigh: it all sent sharp little shivers through him that he was only barely managing to keep from becoming embarrassingly even more obvious. The thought hit like a lightening bolt, Lysander was a Top and Davi couldn't recall the last time he'd been around one.

Merlin, this man.

And then there was that distinction. Not to you. With you. Davi caught it immediately, and the realization of it softened something in his expression even as it made his pulse kick harder beneath his skin. The growl in Lysander’s voice nearly finished whatever remained of his restraint.

When Lysander kissed him again, needier this time, Davi answered without hesitation. The hand at the back of his neck slid downward slowly, fingers trailing over the line of his throat, his chest, feeling the tension and strength beneath the fabric before curling briefly against him.

The other hand at Lysander’s lower back tightened more boldly this time. And then deliberately; Davi’s fingers dug in at his hip and ass, grasping firmly enough to draw another reaction if he could manage it, the motion paired with the faintest breath of laughter against Lysander’s mouth.

“Careful,” he murmured between kisses, voice roughened now despite himself. “You’re making it very difficult to remember all those reasons we’re supposed to behave.” His legs shifted instinctively around Lysander where he stood between them, not trapping him just drawing him closer. Tempting. Testing. Because Davi was discovering very quickly that teasing Lysander might become one of his favorite things in the world.

[Lysander Malfoy]

Lysander made another noise, akin to a growl, as he felt Davi's hands move, especially the lower one. "You say that," he panted as he shifted closer with the feel of his legs, though the closer he stood, the more likely Davi was going to feel exactly what effect the teasing had on Lysander. Hearing Davi's voice only had him wanting to explore this further with him, "But you're the one who is seeming to try and learn my buttons," he nipped at his lip, "And if you don't quit pressing them," he kissed him again, "I will forget about the idea of behaving," he slid his arm around him again, one thumb hooking in the strings at the back of the corset, his other hand on his thigh gripping as well.

Every inch of him was coiled with his control being tested more and more, desire nearly clouding his sense of reason. The truth was, Lysander rarely lost control. In business, in dueling, in every aspect of his carefully constructed life, he maintained a tight rein on himself. But something about Davi—the intelligence in his dark eyes, the confidence in his touch, the way he seemed to understand Lysander without needing to be told—it was dismantling him piece by piece.

He wanted to pull Davi closer, to explore the planes of his body with his hands and mouth. To discover where exactly his own buttons were and how he would react to their discovery.

[Davi Baptiste]

The sound that left Davi at the near-growl in Lysander’s voice was entirely involuntary. Soft. Breathless. Dangerous. Especially once he felt the subtle tug at the strings of his corset vest. “Oh, that’s unfair,” he breathed with quiet amusement against Lysander’s mouth, though the faint tremor in his voice betrayed just how effective the gesture actually was.

Every inch Lysander crowded closer made it harder to maintain the careful restraint Davi usually prided himself on. He could feel the tension coiled through him, the control fraying thread by thread beneath teasing touches and heated breaths. And the fact Lysander was unraveling too only made it worse. Between kisses, Davi let out another quiet sound; half laugh, half unsteady breath before finally turning his head just enough for his lips to brush away from Lysander’s mouth.

He trailed slow kisses along his jaw instead, savoring the sharp inhale it drew from him before moving lower toward the side of his neck. “Good to know I’m not the only one struggling then,” he murmured softly against warm skin. “Because you seem to be finding mine just fine.” And then, unable to resist… Davi bit down just enough to get his attention.

Not cruel. Just enough pressure to spark. At the same time, his hips rolled instinctively forward against Lysander’s, abandoning any pretense that he wasn’t just as affected by all of this. If Lysander felt exactly what kind of effect he’d had on him already, Davi made no move to hide it now. In fact, the faint sound he made afterward suggested he rather enjoyed the possibility.

His fingers curled tighter briefly at Lysander’s back before easing again, stroking slower this time. While his other hand stopped against his chest letting his fingertips stroke the bare skin where his shirt lay opened slightly at the top. “You know,” he whispered near his ear, voice warm and teasing despite how uneven his breathing had become, “for someone determined to behave… you haven't actually asked me to stop.”

[Lysander Malfoy]

Lysander was going to lose his mind. That was the only logical result of Davi trying to undo him at every angle. As he started to kiss along his jaw...and then the bite? It was no longer an almost growl, but one that was mixed with an almost groan, "Fuck," he said through his teeth, especially as Davi rolled his hips, and that sound? Davi would be able to feel the way his whole body tensed.

"I said I would behave," Lysander muttered, his voice all gravel and smoke, "I never said you had to," he shifted his own hips forward, pressing them to Davi's, “Though… the last thing I want is for you to stop,” he nearly groaned as his hands moved along his thigh, moving up and tracing the curve of the muscle beneath the fabric with deliberate pressure, “But I don’t want this to be rushed,” he moved his hand along those strings along his back without actually untying them yet. How he’d reacted before made Lysander want to pull them away, wanting to touch him made him want it gone altogether.

A bell rang on the wall, a sharp interruption to their panting conversation that made Lysander go rigid. He let out a sound of pure frustration as he looked over as the bell rang again, a bit more incessantly. His eyes narrowed in a way that would make most quake as he understood he was being interrupted by an unruly member of the club. He looked down at Davi and gave a smirk that belied his annoyance, "Saved by the bell," He muttered, giving him one more breath-stealing kiss before forcing himself to dislodge, though he looked like it was the hardest thing he had to do, his eyes roving over Davi. With another angry noise, he turned, running his hand through his hair, replacing the glamour as he was about to actually put someone through a wall as the bell began to go nonstop. As he opened the door, the sound of a proper row could be heard, but it went silent just before the door snicked shut as the crowd turned and caught sight of the cold rage of Lysander. He did not tolerate those who broke his rules, much less those who would break them while his back was turned, and he was very much busy.

It would take all of about five minutes before he came back into the room, straightening out his shirt, though it seemed like he might have gotten a bit more physical in his handling of the problem than leaving it entirely to magic. Part of what made him rather scary to most of the people in his employ. The red along his knuckles was another indicator. He came back up the stairs to his office, looking towards Davi, seemingly well aware that the heat of the moment had cooled, "Apologies for that.... interruption."