Hey guys!

I hope you guys had happy holidays & such. Sorry for taking so long. I spent some time with family, which was absolutely amazing. I hope you like this wholesome chapter.

Without further adieu, I present to you...

D A Y 3 O L I V E R & C H A R L O T T E

oliver malfoy

"So where are you from?" my father asked Charlotte as she sat beside me, with my parents across us. "Willaby? I've never heard that name before-."

"Dad-." I stammered.

"I was born in Sweden," she responded with a smile, "But I moved to the United States. Came back to Europe when I was 11 to attend Hogwarts-."

"What house are you in?" my mum asked. "If you don't mind me asking."

I wanted to crumple in my chair. The whole interrogation thing was unnecessary.

"I'm a Hufflepuff!" Charlotte responded lightly as she glanced over. I gave her a smile as she smiled back before diverting her attention back onto my parents. "I remember Oli mentioning that you two are House of Slytherin?"

I didn't tell her anything about my parents being in Slytherin, but it's great to know that her intuition is strong. On top of that, she's making it look like I talk about my parents, which is good. And the truth is, I don't.

"So Oliver talks about us?" my mum said with a wide grin, "Now, that's sweet."

"All the time," Charlotte replied. Underneath the table, she placed her hand on my thigh as my heart fluttered at an instant.

"I see," dad murmurs as he sternly eyes the both of us, "So, what are you guys going to do today?"

She looked at me with wondering eyes, signaling that I finish the sentence. Charlotte doesn't have a clue what my plans are with her today.

"I was—wondering. If I could take her to the shop," I asked, "because she's thinking about being a Botanist."

"I'm sure your uncle wouldn't mind," my mum responded, "You'd have to ask him about it."

"You're taking Charlotte—to a flower shop?" dad queried; unamused.

"It was my request," said Charlotte. She took a quick glance at me and gently squeezed my thigh. Fuck, this woman never fails to save the day. "I'm really looking forward to it."

Dad kept looking at Charlotte and me in a pattern. His suspicions were high for absolutely no reason.

"Well, I hope you two have a great day then," Mum beamed as she flashed a smile, "His aunt and uncle know about almost every bloody plant to exist on this planet—"

"Now, that's a bit of a stretch, Lucille—" Dad interrupted, "There are more than a million plants on Earth—"

"It was an exaggeration, Draco. I know they don't know about every plant—"

"I think Charlotte and I will get going now," I blurted as I got up from the chair, "I'll see you all at dinner? Yes?"

Mum's eyes followed as Charlotte and I strayed away from the table and towards the door.

"Be safe, alright?" Mum announced.

"Of course, Mrs. Malfoy," Charlotte chimed as she took my hand and laced our fingers, "We will!"

I twisted the doorknob and shoved the door open as the cool air scurried itself into the home, winding past the two of us ferociously. From a dim-lit scene to a bright, white, cold one made my eyes scrunch up.

Together, we stepped out of the home as I closed the door behind us. And we huffed out of relief.

"Sorry for the interrogation," I apologized as we walked down the steps together, "I don't know what's up my father's arse—"

"Don't apologize, Oli," she chuckled tenuously, "Your parents are just being parents. That's all."

I pulled the car keys out of my pocket as we made our way towards the driveway. Clicking the 'unlock' button, the Mercedes immediately chirped and the headlights blinked.

"A Mercedes?" Charlotte queried, "Didn't you tell me previously that this shop would be a couple of minutes away walking distance?"

I chuckled as I made my way towards the passenger door. Opening it for her, I smiled. "We're going to the shop after my surprise."

"You have a surprise?" she quirked a brow as she took a dive into the passenger side. Charlotte looked up and smirked. "Do your parents know about this additional surprise?"

"I'll tell you in a bit," I responded as I shut her door closed. I made my way towards the drivers' seat. Soon after diving into the drivers' seat, I closed the door and pressed the button. The car started and rumbled, which slightly startled her. "You ever got a tattoo before?"

I shifted the gears as she watched me down. Pulling out of the driveway abruptly, she quickly grasped onto my forearm. "I—I've never had a tattoo before."

I shot her a smirk before shifting gears to sports' mode. Stepping on the gas, she jolted back as the impact nearly took her breath. I couldn't help but chuckle. Turning my head to look straight forward, the houses and figures ahead of me shot passed us which such speed.

Charlotte grasped onto me tighter. "Bloody hell, Oliver! Is this speed—is this speed even safe?!"

I shrugged as I continued going 90 miles down the road. "Ah, don't worry," I assured her, "Zeno and I do this all the time."

"With your bloody Mercedes?"

"Nah," I laughed, "He's got a Rolls Royce—or, well, it's his father's. It's my uncle's."

"And this car?" she turned to me, "Is this car yours?"

I shook my head. "Turn your head around. See whose name is on it."

Charlotte looked behind her head and took notice of the name in cursive embroidered in the leather seat. She ran her fingers along the red threading. "D. Malfoy? Is this your dad's car?"

"Something like tthat," I lean my head forward to reveal another name in cursive. "Check behind my head."

She leaned forward to examine the name behind my head. "L. Malfoy. So it's your mother's car?"

"It's a gift to my mother from my father," I responded as I leaned back, "Last year. For their something something anniversary. I don't know how long they were married, but they've been married for a pretty long time."

She nodded as I continued to talk to her. "We're heading to a tattoo shop. I'm getting a tattoo for my mum and sisters. A Christmas gift, if you may."

"Do they know you're getting a tattoo for them? What are you getting for them?"

"Ah, hell, if I know," I bickered, "Whatever comes to mind, I guess. All I know is that I'm getting it down my ribcage. My mum is going to lose her shit, I know that for a fact."

She softly giggled as she looked out the window. I lightly lifted my foot off the gas as the car slowed down a tad bit. "Have you ever drove a Mercedes?"

Charlotte turned her head back to me. "No," she responded, "Willaby's purchase Lincolns. All Lincolns back at our estate in America."

"Right!" I blurted, "You're from America—tell me how you ended up here? In the U.K?"

"I was practically born in Europe, Oliver," she corrected after she rolled her eyes, "But my mum and I moved to America, along with my adopted brother Jack. The moment I was born, actually. We obviously moved back here so that I attend Hogwarts. My brother, though, stayed back in America. I personally think he's the most happiest over there."

"How old is your brother?"

"19 years old? Something like that," she responded, "He's in college now. Majoring in... psychology? Wizardry in America is way different than here. Like, way different."

"Really? How so?"

"He knows about spirituality more than magic. His magic relies on things such as manifestation. I told him that if he attended Hogwarts with me, he'd be able to use all his magic to the full extent. But he'd rather learn about magic the other way."

"Spirituality? Manifestation? Sounds a lot like my aunt Luna," I commented. "So did he attend a wizarding school over there?"

The whole concept of magic in America fascinated. Who knew that it'd be different in comparison to the teachings of magic in the United Kingdom?"

"Yes, Jack attended a wizarding school in America. In the forests of Salem, to be exact. Wizards from here—from the U.K. had to help cast a spell to protect the whole entire castle back in Salem. To muggles, it's all forests. But to wizards and witches, it's an incredibly large school. But the teachings are way different."

"A whole castle under a spell," I repeated, "That's fucking amazing."

"Hogwarts is protected under a spell, too, you know," she snickered, "It's not that shocking."

"I know, but—but the fact that a whole castle in the forests of Salem is under a spell where only those who are magic can see. That blows my bloody mind."

"Oliver," Charlotte spoke, "Hogwarts... is the same thing. Along with Diagon Alley. And almost every wizardry-related thing around the world is under a spell."

My wide smile soon dropped as I realized. How fucking stupid am I? Of course everything magic-related is hidden by muggles!

"Fucking hell," I muttered under my breath, "I guess I was just—. I don't know. I was—the whole concept of magic anywhere else but the U.K. amazed me, so I didn't consider that it would be hidden everywhere around the world."

She shook her head as she giggled softly. I gripped my left hand onto the steering wheel, and her thigh on the other hand. "Are you comfortable with me touching your thi—"

"Oliver, I'm fine with all types of touching from you," Charlotte assured, "So no need for the gentle façade."

"Great," I replied. I gripped her thigh a bit tighter and smiled.

***

I opened the passenger door for her as she stepped out. We arrived the tattoo shop in a dainty part of West Bay, England. Closing the door as she exited, I took her small hand and laced our fingers. Together, we walked towards the shop.

"A luxury car in Dorset?" Charlotte soflty chuckled, "Unecessary, don't you think?"

"Hey," I said, "Tell that to my uncle and dad, not me. They're the ones who want top notch bullshit in a remote village."

She rolled her eyes as we entered the tattoo parlor. We were immediately greeted by a middle-aged woman who was covered in tattoos. Her black hair didn't pass her shoulders and she wore a plain white tank top and blue distressed jeans.

"Oi!" the woman blurts, "Are you Oliver? The one who scheduled a tattoo?"

I nodded my head as I took my coat off and hung it on the rack. I looked around the parlor and saw art of all kind hanging on the walls. Different patterns and designs. Tattoo ideas. From gothic to simple. Classic to modern. Charlotte eyes gazed around the room as well. She pointed out a few pieces of art that I could potentially put on my skin.

"Do you know what kind of tattoo you want?" The woman queried as she made her way towards the back of the parlor. The woman washed her hands thoroughly as she looked at Charlotte and I through the mirror she faced.

"I want something that represents the 3 most important women in my life," I replied. "Do you have any ideas?"

"You could do their names in cursive on your ribcage," Charlotte suggested.

"You want the tattoos located on your ribcage?" The woman asked.

"Yes," I responded. "Something simple yet elegant. Charlotte, their names sound like a good idea, but I feel like I want something more than just names."

"You like flowers?" the woman asked. "Do the women in your lives like flowers?"

I nodded. "Yeah, they do."

"I'm thinking simple line art. Black ink flowers," Charlotte added.

"Their birth month flowers," the woman suggested, "We could do simple line ink with their birth month flowers. At the root, I could do their names in cursive. What months were they born?"

"My mum and sister Scarlett are both born in July, and Narsa is born in October."

"Do the birth flower tattoos sound good to you?" the woman queried.

"Ye—"

"Could you provide sample drawings beforehand?" Charlotte interrupted, "I just want to make sure my boyfriend gets what he wants before putting it on his body permanently."

Holy fuck. The aggression is hot.

"Of course," the woman responded, "Give me one moment. I'll just—sketch it out."

Charlotte gave her a smile as she took a seat on the futon. She crossed her legs and looked around. Her eyes locked onto mine as she patted the spot next to her. "Come sit, Oliver."

I obeyed immediately. I sat next to her as she placed her hand on my thigh.

"Thanks for helping me avoid something I could potentially regret," I mumbled to her as I placed my hand over hers, "I probably would've had Nar's, Scar's, and my mum's name on my bloody forehead."

Her and I chuckled at the comment. Charlotte placed her head on my shoulder as we waited for the woman to sketch out the design. Thinking about needles fucking scare me, but this is going to be one of the best decisions I've ever made.

"Do you think I should get a tattoo, too?" Charlotte blurted. "Say, under my left breast? Right breast?"

"Both breasts," I replied immediately. She rolled her eyes and playfully smacked my chest. "Though if you had to choose one, I say the left breast."

"And why's that? Why so specific?"

"I don't know," I traced shapes and letters onto her hand with my finger, "I personally feel like—" I looked at the woman who was occupied with drawing my potential tattoo to ensure that she wasn't eavesdropping. "–your left breast is the softest."

Her jaw dropped as she smacked my chest again. "Oliver!"

"Can't help it," I grinned, "And plus it's the truth." I inched closer to her ear and kissed her lobe gently. "In fact, everything about you is soft." I whispered.

She pulled away from my shoulder as her skin turned crimson. Charlotte bit the bottom of her lip and looked into my eyes with desire. "Malfoy—"

"All done," the woman interrupted, "Come take a look and tell me what you want to change."

I got up from the futon as Charlotte followed. The woman had her drawing on the tattoo table on a piece of parchment.

Together, Charlotte and I examined the sketch. Two larkspur and one marigold flower in a small and dainty bouquet with each name assigned to each flower at the roots. It was a simple sketch, yet at an instant I could feel the real meaning behind it.

The moment I laid my eyes on it, I knew it had to be done.

"It's perfect," I gleamed, "I'll take it. What do you think, Charlotte?"

Charlotte picked up the sketch and looked at it closer. She glanced back at me and looked at me for quite a bit. "Does this sketch make you happy?"

"Very."

Charlotte looked at the woman with a precarious look. "If it makes my boyfriend happy, then so be it. Carry on."

Fucking hell, the aggression is everything.

"Let's get you prepped up and ready, Oliver," the woman said, "Undress your shirt and all. Lay on the tattoo table and I'll be back with my items. I'm glad you two like the sketch!"

"I love it," I pipped with a smile, "Thank you."

The woman disappeared behind her shop as I sat on the bedtable. Charlotte stood between my legs and placed her hands on my thighs. "Do you want me to remove your shirt?"

I immediately raised my arms as she softly giggled. Her hands clutched onto the bottom of my shirt as she slowly raised it towards my upper body. The warmth from her body—her hands, radiated onto my bare chest as she removed my shirt completely.

Charlotte handed me my shirt as I placed it next to me. She took her fingers and grazed it against my skin, in which resulted in me sucking my breath in at her touch. Her touch trailed to the tattoo on my left pectoral that said 'Brotherly Blood'.

"I noticed this before," Charlotte murmured, "but I never got the chance to ask you what it meant."

"Zeno and I share the same tattoo," I replied. I lifted her chin with my finger and looked into her eyes. "Y'know, maybe one day we'll match tattoos, too."

Her full lips curled into a smile as she leaned forward. Charlotte's lips clashed with mine as her hand found the nape of my neck. I planted my hands onto her waist and pulled her closer. Our lips moved in synchronization. Her tongue swiped at the bottom of my lip as I gaped my mouth open.

Charlotte slipped her tongue into my mouth with gentleness. My tongue found hers as they twirled onto one another. With sudden movement, I broke our kiss and turned to the woman who had just entered the room.

"Are you ready?" the woman asked with her arms full of items.

"Yup," I answered, with awkwardness loitering the room, "Ready as I'll ever be."

Charlotte smirked as she backed away from me. Charlotte took a seat positioned by the tattoo table bed. "I'm here if you need someone to cry to during your tattoo."

I flicked her off as she rolled her eyes. "I've done this before, Charlotte. I'm not afraid—"

"Where are you getting this tattoo again?" the woman interrupted.

"On the rib," I replied as I pointed to the location," Right here."

She grimaced and bit her teeth as she raised her eyebrows. "If you..insist."

"Why?"

"It's a sensitive part of the body—"

"I can handle it," I responded, "Trust me."

The woman turned to Charlotte. "You might want to hold his hand for this," she chuckled.

"Oh, I'm here alright," Charlotte snickered.

"It'll be fine. I've got this," I assured them.

In reality, I was fucking scared shitless. As I watched her fill caps with ink, the anticipation grew stronger. My palms started sweating as my heart rate increased. I kept gulping as my throat kept tightening. Was it obvious that I was nervous? Fucking hell, my mum and sisters better be thankful.

+

July 2014 | Flashback

"Do you know why you're here?" he asked her quietly. The pair were located in the dining room. HIs family slept upstairs as they sat at the dining table with the dimly lit lamp above them. It wasn't difficult to pay attention to one another because, well, because there was no one else around.

She looked down at her lap as she fiddled with her fingers nervously. "No."

He sighed and ran his hand across his face. He leaned against his chair as his eyes never left her presence. "Think."

"Because you brought me here?" she asked.

"But why did I bring you here—"

"Well, why don't you tell me? You brought me here, so shouldn't you be the one to tell me—"

He slammed his hand on the table, which startled her immensely. Her heart raced, along with the thoughts that swam ferociously in her head.

"You're a threat to my family," he said sternly. "And your actions? They have consequences."

She perked her head up and looked into his deepening eyes. She searched for empathy, but the longer she looked, the more she realized there was none in him— for her, at least.

"You can't make me do anything," she trembled. "You can't make me—"

"What is it that you want?" he offered. He pulled out a checkbook and a pen. "Name a price. I'll give it to you. Right here. Right now."

"I don't want—"

"What? Speak up. I really can't hear you—"

"I don't want anything. I just want—. I just want this," she mumbled lowly as she placed her hands around herself. "I just want—. I want this."

"You can't," he pestered, "You can't. Name a price."

"I don't want money—"

"Name a fucking price," he snapped, "What was your motive?"

Her motive was the large dollar signs, but only an idiot would admit that.

"I'm in love," she whispered, "I'm in love with him."

"Bullshit," he snapped, "You're not leaving West Bay until you've made the right decision. The decision you're leaning on right now? It's not the right decision. So, like I said, name a price."

She stayed quiet.

"It could be any number," he added. "Just name your price."

She bit the bottom of her lip nervously. It was as if the room around her tightened; constricted her air flow and train of thought.

"I want half a million," she decided. "Half a million."

"Done," he said. He opened his checkbook and wrote away. He ripped out the check and placed it right in front of her. "There. Half a million. In fine print."

Before she could reach for it, he grabbed it back.

"You can claim this check under one condition," he spoke.

"What is it?" she asked lowly.

Silence lingered for a while.

"You get rid of it. I'll take you there. Hell, I'll even rid the poor thing myself."

She looked back down at her lap when a tear rolled down her cheek.

"I won't be able to go by myself," she jeered. "I—. I'm too young to go alone—."

"I'll take you," he retorted, "I'll pay for the whole thing."

She looked back up at him. "O..kay."

"Unless you want to rid the thing magically?"

Her lips parted, though inaudible she remained.

Until she spoke.

"We're not magical for no reason."

"Then it's settled."

He got up and pushed the chair underneath the table.

"First thing in the morning," he said, "You can apparate back home, I suppose?"

She nodded.

"Where exactly do you live?"

"That's none of your business," she frantically responded.

He rose his hands in surrender. "Fiesty."

She got up from the chair and grabbed the check. Shoved it right into her jean pockets. She tucked her hair behind her ear and followed him towards the door.

"I'll go through the whole thing if—," she stammered, "If he comes with me."

He looked at her with uncertainty. "That's if he wants to go."

"He'll go," she replied. "He cares way too much."

He opened the door for her as she walked out. Before she could say anything else, he slammed the door close, leaving her out front.

"That's what got him in this situation in the first place," he muttered under his breath.

"For caring way too much."

***

Sorry for taking so long. Day 4 means Christmas day for them. It also means TEA. FUCKING. CITY. Be prepared.

D I S C U S S I O N

I hope you all are doing well.