Whatever It Takes (Lysander)

[Lysander Malfoy]

Lysander looked over as the door opened, then smirked softly at the state of Davi as he did. "Good morning," he said softly. "I feel about as good as one could hope to after such an eventful night," he said before moving his arm to show it was fine, but he did have on long sleeves to cover up the bruising. Mostly because he didn't want anyone else thinking it would be a splendid time to test their luck.

When Davi realized his own state, "Considering you were sitting by me half-dressed last night by the fire," he mused, "I think you can hold the apology. And it does smell like breakfast will be served soon, and it smells like the chef decided we all needed a heartier breakfast this morning," he chuckled a little. "Did you sleep well? Heavy sleep doesn't always mean it was restful," he murmured, his eyes staying on Davi's.

He glanced over, hearing a clicking, and saw Asphodel hopping across a banister at the top of the room that led back to the door she'd come into the house from the library, slipping back through it and presumably outside. "Seems we're all having a slow morning," he chuckled again before looking back to Davi with a shake of his head.

[Davi Baptiste]

Davi watched the easy movement of Lysander's arm with obvious satisfaction, the faint crease of worry between his brows finally easing. "Good," he murmured. "I was fairly confident the spell had taken properly, but I still prefer seeing the patient prove it." A teasing smile tugged at his mouth. "I might have to insist on follow-up visits." His eyes lingered on Lysander for another moment before his attention drifted toward the scent floating up from downstairs. His stomach, having apparently decided it had been ignored long enough, answered with a quiet growl.

"...Well," Davi admitted with a sheepish grin, "I suppose that answers whether I smell breakfast too." When Lysander asked if he'd slept well, his expression softened. "I did." The answer came without hesitation. "Honestly... better than I expected." He leaned a little more comfortably against the frame. "I think there was something reassuring about knowing you were only a few rooms away instead of wondering whether I'd made it in time."

His voice remained light, but there was an unmistakable sincerity beneath it. "I don't remember dreaming at all. Just..." He shrugged one shoulder. "...sleep." The clicking of Asphodel's talons drew his attention upward just in time to see the owl disappear through her little entrance. Davi smiled fondly after her. "I suppose she's decided you've survived the night after all." He looked back to Lysander, amusement dancing in his dark eyes. "Though I'm fairly certain she still hasn't entirely forgiven me for telling her not to fuss over you."

His smile widened."Huginn does exactly the same thing. I swear he thinks I'm incapable of surviving a paper cut without his supervision." A quiet chuckle escaped him before he finally pushed himself away from the doorway. "Give me five minutes to make myself resemble a respectable professor again." His eyes flicked down at his own bare chest before returning to Lysander with an impish glint. "Or at least enough of one that your staff doesn't start inventing even wilder stories than they already have."

He glanced toward the chair where his clothes waited, then back again. "And after breakfast..." His smile became warmer, more genuine than teasing. "I'd like to thank Bonnie properly before I head back to Hogwarts. I doubt she expected her quiet evening to end with her employer being attacked and an unexpected houseguest dripping rainwater across her clean floors." His expression turned almost apologetic at the thought. "I owe her my gratitude for looking after both of us."

[Lysander Malfoy]

"Insist away," Lysander smirked, but his expression softened a bit at Davi's answer about how he slept. "Sounds like the sleep of someone who was really exhausted," he murmured. He chuckled a little at his observation about Asphodel. "She's just a prima donna," he shook his head. "She likes you so far; she was just frazzled by last night, same as us. Though, I suppose I owe Huginn an apology for stealing you away," he mused, looking over at him.

He gave a laugh at the idea of what his staff might be cooking up. "Oh, I'm sure I'll be hearing whispers with your name for a while yet," he smirked. "And she's probably downstairs, too. The staff eats their breakfast about the same time, so we can address her afterward," he nodded. "I'll wait for you downstairs, but take your time."

He hesitated for a moment, still looking at him, but then stepped away from the doorframe and started down the stairs towards the foyer below. "Though if you want to come down as is, I certainly wouldn't mind," he said over his shoulder, as if he couldn't let the moment pass without adding one of his usual quips.

[Davi Baptiste]

Davi watched him for a moment as Lysander lingered in the doorway, the softened expression, the easy teasing, the reluctance to leave quite as quickly as propriety probably suggested he should. It was becoming dangerously easy to enjoy that look directed at him. A smile tugged at his mouth when Lysander mentioned Huginn. "He'll survive the theft," Davi said lightly. "Though he'll absolutely act personally betrayed for at least a week. Ravens are excellent at holding grudges when it earns them extra treats."

His gaze drifted toward the stairs as Lysander finally stepped away, then returned when the inevitable quip floated back over his shoulder. Davi huffed a laugh, leaning briefly against the frame. "There it is," he called after him. "I was beginning to worry the injury had affected your flirting." The grin lingered as he watched him disappear downstairs.

Only then did Davi close the door and turn back into the room. The guest room still held the quiet warmth of the night before, his shirt and vest waiting where he'd left them. He crossed to the chair and picked up the shirt first, slipping it on without bothering to fully tame his curls. The corset vest followed, buckled with practiced ease before he rolled the sleeves neatly into place.

By the time he stepped back into the hallway, he looked much more like Professor Baptiste again; composed, tailored, and respectable. Only the slightly sleep-tousled hair and the lingering warmth in his eyes betrayed the fact that he'd spent the night in a Malfoy's guest room after racing through a storm to save him. As he made his way toward the stairs, he could already smell breakfast more clearly, rich and comforting. He paused at the top for a moment, spotting Lysander below, and couldn't help the small smile that returned.

"See?" he said as he descended. "Respectable professor restored. Your staff can save the truly scandalous rumors for another day."

[Lysander Malfoy]

"I think he and Asphodel would get along well," Lysander chuckled at his description of Huginn holding a grudge. His comment about the injury affecting his flirting got another chuckle. "Impossible," he said, shaking his head.

He stepped into the kitchen to check on everyone, assuring one of the more shaken maids that he would increase the security on the home to give them more peace of mind that if anyone else got hairbrained ideas, they wouldn't make it into the house. Once that was settled, he made his way back to the foyer to wait for Davi, putting his hands in his pockets. He didn't have to wait long, glancing up as he heard Davi starting to come down. He smiled softly at him, then huffed a laugh at his comment.

"If you think clothing affects the rumors, I think being more respectable is only going to make it worse," he shook his head, "Though respectable is almost more tempting than half-dressed." He smirked before motioning toward a smaller room. "We'll eat in this room over here," he said, leading him to the little sunroom once he'd reached his side. It wasn't much, perhaps originally meant for something more discreet, like a passage between parts of the house of the staff, but with a nice white paint and a dark hardwood floor, it had been turned into a small room with a small table against the far wall by the windows that looked out into the gardens, slightly off to the side from the door that led out to it. It was quieter and just big enough for the both of them to eat in, but still close enough to the kitchen that it wasn't more inconvenient to the staff than the dining room. There were minimal decorations: some dried flowers in vases on shelves on the wall, some herbs hung upside down over the door that led to the kitchen, but the chairs were soft and comfortable.

Lysander pulled out a chair, motioning to it for him to sit before going to sit in his own once Davi was seated. "Hope you're hungry. They cook for themselves too, so there tends to be plenty of food at meals."

[Davi Baptiste]

Davi's laugh followed him into the little room. "Oh, so that's the problem." He settled easily into the chair Lysander had pulled out for him, offering him an appreciative smile before taking his seat. "I've been trying to preserve your reputation, and all this time I've apparently only been making myself more suspicious." He rested his forearms lightly against the table as his eyes wandered around the sunroom. The morning light filtering through the windows gave the space a warmth that felt entirely different from the grander rooms he'd seen the night before. It felt... lived in.

"I like this room," he admitted. "It's peaceful." His gaze drifted out toward the gardens for a moment before returning to Lysander. "I can see why you'd choose this over that enormous dining room. Meals are meant to be enjoyed, not shouted across a table long enough to seat half of Hogwarts." The image amused him enough to earn a quiet chuckle.When Lysander mentioned there being plenty of food, Davi smiled sheepishly. "I probably am." He rubbed absently at the back of his neck. "I don't think I realized just how hungry I was until I woke up. Adrenaline has a habit of replacing meals."

His eyes found Lysander again, a spark of mischief returning. "Though if your staff starts bringing enough food for six people, I refuse to take responsibility for whatever conclusions they draw." He paused, tilting his head thoughtfully. "Actually..." His grin broadened. "No. I suppose I do." There was something almost content in the way he looked across the table. "People can gossip if they like." His voice had softened, becoming more genuine. "They weren't there."

They hadn't seen the panic that had sent him racing through the rain. They hadn't seen the fear that he'd been too late. They hadn't watched Lysander get back to his feet after a broken arm or sat with him in front of the fire until the adrenaline finally faded. "They'll make up whatever story they want." He offered a small shrug. "We'll know the truth." The smile returned, lighter now. "And if that truth happens to include an excellent breakfast..." He glanced toward the kitchen as the aroma drifted into the room. "...I don't think either of us is in a position to complain."

Looking back at Lysander, one eyebrow lifted playfully. "So... now that neither of us is being attacked, seduced by ancient magic, or caught in a thunderstorm..." His smile turned teasing again. "Tell me something about yourself that isn't buried under three layers of mystery and impeccable self-control." He folded his hands together on the table. "I think we've both earned a conversation that doesn't involve broken bones."

[Lysander Malfoy]

Lysander chuckled lightly at Davi's comments about reputation. "I don't know about suspicious, but they definitely have their suspicions about us," he smirked lightly. He looked out the window before Davi talked about why he liked the room. "Well... sitting at a big table like that by myself is also rather depressing," he chuckled lightly. "But I'm glad you have your appetite. If you don't mind, I would like to know about what sent you headlong into that storm last night. As far as I can tell, you're not some weirdo that came running into the house. Bonnie was very concerned about you when I was checking in with them. She wanted to make sure you slept well, asked how you were feeling this morning, asked if you wanted anything specific for breakfast, before Chef pointed out most of the food was already cooked for breakfast." he chuckled a little, "They probably think of you like a dashing hero."

He smiled softly at the comment about truth, including an excellent breakfast, "Certainly not." Then Davi asked him probably one of the most difficult questions. Something about himself. Well. There was a lot he could tell him, but none of them felt like they belonged in this moment. He realized with mild amusement that there were very few moments he had that fit the energy of this current conversation. "Okay," he said after a moment, "What about my favorite dessert. Tarte tatin. Never would have ordered it for myself, but my sister insisted I come with them to Paris when Miral was about 5. Something about getting out of my musty office. Little girl wanted to try speaking to everyone she saw, and most locals amused her, and I think I scared most people from saying anything about it if they didn't. But we went to a cafe, and she wanted to order my dessert," he shrugged, smirking a little, "Always been rather headstrong that one. Can't imagine where she gets it from," he smirked.

[Davi Baptiste]

Davi listened while Lysander spoke about Bonnie and the rest of the staff, unable to keep the faint smile from tugging at the corner of his mouth. The idea that they'd apparently adopted him after one dramatic evening was oddly endearing. "Please thank them for me," he said warmly. "And tell Bonnie breakfast is wonderful before she decides she needs to fuss over me any more than she already has."

When the question turned back to the previous night, however, his expression softened. "It wasn't intuition," he admitted quietly. "Or at least... not entirely." His fingers idly traced the rim of his teacup before his gaze lifted to meet Lysander's. "I was grading papers." A small laugh escaped him. "A terribly exciting evening, as you can imagine." He shook his head. "The mirror was sitting across the room. I happened to glance at it..."

His voice grew a touch quieter. "And then I wasn't in my quarters anymore." For a moment his eyes unfocused, recalling it. "It pulled me straight into a vision." He let out a slow breath. "I couldn't tell you how it works. Spirits have never been particularly interested in explaining themselves to me." A faint smile returned. "They simply show me what they decide I need to see."

"They showed me rain. Your house. You." His expression sobered. "Glass breaking. Asphodel screaming. Someone shouting. You on the floor." His jaw tightened ever so slightly. "Then I saw green light..." He paused. "...and nothing after that." His eyes found Lysander's again.

"I didn't wait to interpret it. I left immediately." For a heartbeat he simply regarded the other man before his smile returned, softer now. "So..." he said, giving an almost helpless little shrug. "It seems you were right." His gaze drifted over Lysander's face before he focused his attention back on the table where his fingers absently tapped silently.

"You told me the mirror belonged with me." He chuckled quietly. "I'd owned it for all of a few days before it decided to prove your point." His smile became a little more playful. "I suppose that's one way of proving a point." Reaching for his tea, he took another sip before adding, "I don't know if the vision changed because I arrived... or if it always intended for me to."

He rolled one shoulder lightly. "I've learned not to question those sorts of things too much. The spirits are maddeningly fond of speaking in riddles." A glimmer of mischief returned to his eyes. "Though next time they feel compelled to interrupt my grading, I'd appreciate a vision that doesn't involve apparating across half the countryside through a thunderstorm." He smiled over the rim of his cup. "Perhaps one where you're simply inviting me over for breakfast."

[Lysander Malfoy]

After a minute of talking, a maid brought in a couple of plates and a pot of English breakfast tea. She poured them both a cup after setting their plates down. The plates had all the usual basics: poached eggs, toast, kippers, and a croissant. She also set fruit in a small bowl on the table, toward the window where there was space, another small bowl with sugar cubes for the tea, and a small thing of cream. She was in and out without interruption to the point it took until Davi was telling the story for Lysander to realize it was there because of the tea in Davi's hand.

"Just wait for her to move into disappointed mother territory," Lysander shook his head about Bonnie worrying about Davi more than she already was.

As Davi explained what had driven him to run through the rain, Lysander didn't interrupt, leaning back and taking it in. The fact that it was the mirror he'd given him that had shown him the vision actually registered surprise on his face. He had hoped it would be useful for him, but who knew it would show its hand so soon. When he finished, he took a breath, taking that in. "Well, I certainly hadn't thought it would benefit me in any way." he shook his head. "Hopefully in the future it won't send you such cryptic things, but as you said, they just kind of show what they want."

He chuckled a little at Davi shifting the tone of the conversation. "Well, truthfully, you're welcome whenever you wish," he said as he picked up his own tea, "I certainly wouldn't mind starting my morning with this great view," he smirked lightly.

[Davi Baptiste]

Davi smiled as the maid silently arranged breakfast before them, waiting until she'd slipped back out of the room before reaching for his tea. The warmth seeped pleasantly into his hands. "I have a feeling I'd survive disappointed mother territory better than disappointed head of staff," he admitted with an amused huff. "Bonnie strikes me as the sort of woman who could make a grown wizard feel guilty with nothing more than a raised eyebrow."

He took a thoughtful sip of tea before continuing, his expression softening. "As for the mirror..." His gaze drifted toward the rain-speckled windows for a moment, almost unconsciously, as though remembering the obsidian glass sitting safely back in his quarters. "I think it already proved your instincts were right. You said it belonged with me." His eyes returned to Lysander's. "The first time I truly looked into it, it found you."

There was no exaggeration in his voice, only quiet certainty. "I've worked with divination long enough to know better than to expect explanations. The spirits rarely bother with those. They show fragments. Symbols. Moments." He gave a faint shrug. "It's our job to decide what to do with them." A crooked smile returned. "So apparently what I was meant to do was sprint halfway across Britain in the middle of a thunderstorm because a man I'd known for barely a fortnight had managed to get himself into trouble."

His eyes sparkled over the rim of his teacup. "I've had less sensible evenings." Setting the cup down, he finally turned his attention toward the breakfast itself, though not before another thought occurred to him. "And before I forget..." His smile became warmer. "Your favorite dessert explains quite a bit." He tore off a piece of croissant, regarding Lysander with obvious amusement. "Not the tarte tatin itself." He waved that away lightly. "The fact that you let your five-year-old niece order for you."

There was something unexpectedly fond in his expression. "You paint this picture of yourself as the terrifying proprietor of Ebon Rose, the man who has to frighten unruly duelists into behaving..." He tilted his head. "Then you casually mention following a little girl's instructions because she'd decided she knew better." He chuckled softly. "I suspect she'd still be able to wrap you around her finger if she wanted." His smile lingered for another moment before he reached for a piece of toast.

"And for what it's worth..." His voice grew a touch quieter. "I'm glad you told me that story instead of something impressive." Dark eyes met pale ones across the table. "Anyone can tell me what they're good at. Learning the little things..." He smiled. "Those are usually the parts worth remembering." Then, unable to leave the conversation entirely sincere for too long, he let his gaze drift deliberately over Lysander before lifting his teacup again.

"Though I should warn you..." he said innocently, "...if you keep inviting me to breakfast and flattering me over tea, people are eventually going to assume you're courting me." He paused just long enough for the implication to settle before adding with a mischievous grin, "And judging by your staff's reaction yesterday... I'm not entirely convinced they don't already."

[Lysander Malfoy]

Lysander snorted at Bonnie being able to make grown wizards feel guilty. "You have no idea." As he turned back to the mirror, Lysander gave a bit of a shrug. "I don't know what it was. I was decent in divination and knew what it was, but maybe it was just rewarding my delivering it to the right hands by not letting that bastard get in another hit," he hummed a bit. Then shrugged, "Though I do hate the weather decided to be equally as dramatic as the situation," he huffed a laugh.

"Oh? Will I ever get to hear of those less sensible evenings?" he asked curiously, then raised a brow as he came back to the tarte tatin. He gave a laugh. "Yes, Miral has an unfortunate sway on me. I mean, she did have me come all the way to Hogsmeade to help her come up with a plan to get back at a boy who pranked her," he shrugged. When he said he was glad he shared that kind of story, Lysander gave another huff. "I just have a few memories that are fitting for the current atmosphere," he murmured as he finally took a bite of food, "And too heavy for, as you pointed out, a man you've hardly known for a fortnight."

"Though if you're up for the idea, I wouldn't be horribly opposed to that being a reality and not a rumor by my staff, here and at the Rose," he smirked at him, "Or rather making it an official reality, because I'm a bit headstrong about my pursuits," he chuckled lightly.