A/N: Hello! This is my first fanfic, and I hope you like it! It's intended to be DMHP but I'm not sure where it'll go... Ehehehe... Anywho, R&R!

Also, Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter P. But if I decide to make OCs in this, they are mine.+

Draco raised his chin high; his arms erect, and began a swift waltz with his partner. Smooth music drifted across his family's spacious hall as he kept carefully in time with his steps. His partner, a young blushing brunette with a light purple-pink dress, was too shy for an attempt at conversation. Draco was not interested in conversation anyways. His cool silver eyes roamed across the guests, bedecked with diamonds and pearls and emeralds. Waiters stood around the perimeter of the dance floor, offering champagne and dainty finger sandwiches.

Tonight Draco wore his favorite suit, a deep emerald green one, that made his pale skin, light eyes and snow-blond hair stand out spectacularly. His shoes were shined perfectly and made no sound while dancing on the floor, but he would rather be standing the perimeter looking at the gents and ladies dancing than actually dancing. Draco could dance, but he most definitely preferred not to. Most times his dances were set up by his parents, who only cared for him to carry on the Malfoy line. The Malfoy family was cold, and distant, but very elegant and refined.

Finally, the waltz ended and Draco bowed to his partner before escaping as politely as possible. He walked quickly past the waiters to a bar and ordered a scotch. God, these things were so boring! He scowled, brushing imaginary specks off of his elegantly tailored dark emerald suit. As he received his drink and proceeded to gulp it down, his friend Blaise Zabini appeared beside him. Blaise was tall, but of course shorter than Draco. He came from the Zabini line, also refined and elegant, but not as cold. Draco knew Mrs. Zabini, and rather liked her. Blaise thought she was a nuisance, but she cared for him andwas always warm and nice to Draco (despite her husband's death), unlike Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. Blaise's father had died years ago, but his mother still wore the traditional black of mourning (it was a shame, she looked absolutely wonderful in pastels). Blaise loved two things: women, and drink."Man," he breathed in Draco's ear. "They are here."

Draco followed Blaise's gaze. Indeed, all in a row were possible the three finest girls in the city (in all of the bachelors' opinions, at least), Ginny, the flaming redheaded charmer, Pansy, the fantastically rich but mediocre looking girl, and Fleur Delacour, the pale, polite blonde beauty (whom every boy was attracted to). All three were making their way to the powder room, probably to trade gossip and wonder at which boy they would eventually marry.

Draco turned back to talk to Blaise, but felt a cold, heavy hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw that it was his father, Lucius Malfoy. He faced him, looking up at his father. Even though Draco was considered tall compared to other young men of his age, his father was a taller man, pale like Draco with snow-blond hair that went past his shoulders. His hair was elegantly pulled into a ponytail going straight down his neck tonight. Draco gave a tight smile. "Why, hello father," he said.

"Draco," Lucius intoned. "It is time for you to dance with another girl." Blaise shifted uncomfortably in the background, running a hand through his hair and inspecting his dark silver colored suit. Lucius gripped his son's shoulder tight and turned. Draco dutifully followed his father, scowling. Blaise smiled, knowing how much Draco hated dancing with girls he didn't know and defiantly was not attracted to. Blaise grabbed another drink, before setting off to find unsuspecting women to pester.

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Ginny flopped onto a deliciously soft chaise situated in the powder room. The whole room was large, warm, and cozy, with nice yellow, orange and red accents. It smelled heavily of many women's perfume, which was actually not that bad, and makeup. "Did you SEE what that Hannah Abbott girl was WEARING?" Ginny exclaimed. "Positively horrendous! Where does she get her dresses, Auntie Sally's ancient dresses?" She smoothed out her delicate crème dress and pulled at her beautiful red ringlets. Ginny was pale, and got freckles easily. Her beautiful red hair was envied by many. Fleur sat at a vanity and sniffed. "Oh, Gin, don't be too harsh now," she murmured politely, studying her face to see if it was perfect (to many men, it was). Fleur was petite, blonde, blue-eyed, basically perfect. She was polite, too, being brought up very carefully by her parents. "No," Pansy stood, thoughtful. "That frock wouldn't look good on a pig!" Pansy had brown hair, tonight coiled, curled, and bright. She was slightly short, not as mature as the other two girls. Pansy was often the source of much gossip and rumors. Fleur tried to keep her face straight, but a small smile slipped out.

"You know her family has been having trouble lately! Anyways," Fleur leaned toward the other two girls conspiratorially. "Didn't Draco Malfoy look stunning tonight?" The girls sighed excitedly. "His suit was so dashing!" Pansy agreed.

"I don't know, I think I liked Blaise Zabini's suit better," Ginny mused. "A dark silver… it was still a sparkly silver, too." She smiled. The other two girls considered this. "Mmmm… He did look good tonight, but Draco still looks more amazing," Pansy pronounced. Fleur turned to the mirror, unsnapping Ginny rolled her eyes. "Are you still obsessed over him?" She teased. Pansy laughed. "Look who's talking," She giggled. "What secret man are you meeting with tonight?" Ginny smiled. Fleur sighed.

"I suppose I shall go outside to dance," Fleur snapped her mascara shut, eyeing her lashes before standing up and sweeping her light silver-blue dress across the room to the door. "I shall see you all later?" The other two nodded, smiling. Fleur smiled lightly before fully exiting the room, leaving the other girls to talk and glance at the clock, which now read seven twenty-three.

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Draco lightly took Ginny's hand, inwardly complaining. The ginger may have been a beauty, but her reputation was not up to par with Fleur's, or even Pansy's. He also rather disliked her deportment, along with the many (secret) affairs with men below her station. Still, he smiled pleasantly at her and only stepped on her foot one —okay, three – times. Her crème dress swept across the floor as he led her through another dance that he had learned, for the many, many balls and dances his family attended (or hosted). He knew these steps so well he could now let his mind wander and let his feet do the work.

Ginny discreetly glanced at the clock. It read eight thirty-seven. Ginny growled quietly. She was supposed to have met Tom, the tall and handsome stable master at eight o'clock, but he had been a no-show. Her stomach twisted inside of her.

Fleur and Pansy were perched on two delicately shaped chairs on the outside of the dance floor. Fleur was avoiding hopeful bachelors by claiming that her ankle was twisted and ached so, and Pansy was steadily drinking champagne. She loved the bubbly taste and golden color of it. Fleur dodged yet another hopeful. "I don't know how much longer I can keep up this excuse," She winced. Pansy smiled at her tightly. She always gets all the offers, Pansy thought irritably. I don't get any. It may be a nuisance, but what's that compared to nothing??Fleur sighed, smoothing her lily colored dress and smoothing her hair. Pansy inwardly rolled her eyes. She knows she looks perfect and she doesn't need to do that."I'm going to go get some fresh air," Fleur told her. "Want to come?" Pansy shook her head, lifting her newly refreshed flute of champagne and taking a gulp.

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Harry Potter basked in the warmth of the stable, studiously brushing a grey and white dappled stallion named Buckbeak. He could hear steady music and the soft murmurings of the crowd inside of the Malfoys' mansion. Tom, the cruel and evil stable master, had already gone to bed (after roughly telling Harry to finish cleaning up the horses). He faintly knew the Malfoys, just that they were pale, blonde beings. He worked for Mr. and Mrs. Lucius Malfoy, who had one son named… Derrick? Daniel? Some name starting with D… Working for them was nice, good pay, nice food and board. He had free time whenever he wasn't tending to the horses or under the rule of evil Tom. He was allowed in the house and sometimes secretly snuck up to the Malfoys' rooms with his friend Ron. They were elaborate, with delicate white furnishings along with dark wood accents. They regularly changed their bed sheets, and Harry's favorite color of bedspread was a deep maroon, much to Ron's distaste. Ron hated maroon, and rather preferred the rich Golden spread.

A/N: Ahhhh! Finished (and already typed some of the next chapter x) ). Thank you so much for reading! ;; Please Review, too! Sorry for any mistakes, I have spellchecked this... but I may have missed something while adding more... Thank you+