Disclaimer: Not mine, no matter how much I wish it were. Well, the characters, setting, etc are JKR's, but the plot is mine, as is anything you don't recognize. I'm also not making any profit off this – it's just for fun.

A/N: This is my first fanfic. I tried to keep everything mine, but if you recognize anything, I'm truly sorry; I've read so many fics it's hard to know what is one of my ideas and what isn't one of mine. Remember, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery (sigh how trite. I'm serious though. At least I don't purposely steal or copy! shows Pensieve look, all mine!)

I should also point out that this fic is set in Draco's seventh year, just before Christmas. Voldemort is still alive and happy in his deluded little world of inbred purebloods. This story is AU after HBP, but no matter. It was a plot bunny that had been bouncing around my brain for a long time and I decided to finally write a fic. I'm surprised I finally acted on an idea!

Also, this story has not been beta'd. I'm sorry for any mistakes, and if you find them, please let me know so I can fix them! Thanks.

An Unwanted Gathering

A black owl, standing out amongst the drab school owls, flew over to the Slytherin table and dropped a letter in Draco Malfoy's breakfast – porridge today, as every Friday. The letter was written on green-tinted parchment with the Malfoy crest in silver at the top.

Ever the consummate Slytherin, Father, he thought with a smirk. Slytherins were renowned for being subtle, but any oblivious Gryffindor sitting at a table across the hall could easily see it was a letter from Lucius Malfoy, as it not only screamed out 'Slytherin!' but also 'filthy rich!'.

Opening the letter (sealed with gold-speckled red wax, no less), Draco read:

Dear Draco,

Your mother and I request your presence at the annual gathering tonight. We have already arranged with the Headmaster that you be allowed to leave the school for the weekend. And I hate to remind you, however since you seem to be rather unsubtle at times, please do not draw attention to the fact that you will be away. We do not wish to look suspicious, since this arrangement could be considered extreme favouritism from the Headmaster.

Yours lovingly,

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy

Draco snorted into his pumpkin juice at the closing; obviously Mother had been dictating the letter to Father, who abhorred anything to do with love. It was obvious to Draco that Narcissa held the whip in the family, much as Lucius tried to deny it and appeared controlling in public. Draco shook his head as he tried to inconspicuously wipe the juice off his robes. He sighed in defeat when Blaise raised an eyebrow at him and the two dense goons beside him sniggered. Draco was really losing his touch if even Crabbe and Goyle, the greatest gluttons at Hogwarts, noticed his slip-up.

He returned his thoughts to the fact that Mother was indeed the ruler of the household.

Better to accept the inevitable, Father. Just as I did, he thought as the corners of his mouth turned up in a self-deprecating smirk. He twisted slightly in his seat to grin at Granger, who rolled her eyes back at him. They were the Head Boy and Girl this year, and Granger definitely was the one leading everything… not that he didn't working, of course; he just handed Granger the reins, as she seemed to enjoy the control so much. Not that he'd ever tell his father, though. He shuddered at the berating he'd get (hypocritical berating, he reminded himself – not that it helped when he was at the receiving end of a tongue-lashing). Being a Malfoy was not always fun.

He turned his thoughts back to the "annual gathering" he was expected to attend. He hated them; ever since he was seven or eight and finally understood what was happening, he had dreaded them. He didn't know why they had to be held close to Christmastime, either. Could they not be held sometime when he had a plausible excuse to escape? Then he could be, uhh… studying for exams!

Being the only child of the Malfoys, he also got the most attention and humiliation heaped upon him, and he often wished he could jump out the window into the garden below just to get out of there. He'd rather sleep amongst the roses and pebbles than endure a night of torture like the ones he had faced in the past.

He could even hear Aunt Bellatrix's bone-chilling cackle in his head, and Uncle Rodo's sinister chuckle. That couple was high on his list of People To Avoid At All Costs. Ever since the first tide of understanding swept over him, he'd been terrified of the yearly gatherings, and all the creepy people his parents invited just made matters worse. They were probably all old lechers! Disgusting, to say the least.

And the way they stared! Oh, how they stared, they stared, stared, stared. Then a muffled snrk! would slip out of someone, and the previously suppressed smirks would appear, and Draco would be doomed.

Sometimes, Draco would lie in bed, wishing that Voldemort were gone. Kaput. Nixed out of existence. Or rather, hexed out of existence. Ah, the orgasmic bliss those thoughts sometimes gave him.

Then maybe he wouldn't have to attend the gathering. Obviously, none of the evil adults could possibly survive if Voldy were annihilated. The Aurors would round them up bloody quickly, that's what they'd do, Draco smiled dreamily. Oops! I swore! Bloody hell! I mean… uh… Merlin's purple undergarments! Mother would have my hide if she heard me now. I bet it's Weasel's influence. I swear, you could hear him swearing across the Great Hall.

As if to prove his point, Ron chose that moment to yell loudly, "Bloody hell, Ginny! Don't tell me you –" before he was dragged out of the Hall by an infuriated sister.

Draco realized he had been daydreaming and regained his haughty expression. Blaise wasn't fooled.

"You were smiling, Draco. Smiling, with nary a smirk in sight. What's wrong with you?" he asked, that one eyebrow still raised as if it were glued in place.

"Er… I was daydr – I mean, I was remembering how I got out of a gath – uhh, tight situation, and it brought up some funny mental pictures," he managed to choke out. He was relieved that he at least appeared sincere, since Blaise simply nodded and returned to wolfing down his food (his eyebrow stayed raised, though; Draco thought it had maybe been magicked in place). It was probably the several girls he "chased around the castle" last night that gave him his hearty appetite.

Draco didn't know how Blaise, an irritatingly skinny boy, had the looks to attract even one girl, let alone the eight who seemed to regularly hang about his "Sexy Slytherin Body" (Blaise wasn't very modest either). He shrugged. Maybe it had something to do with his Italian blood. Either way, Draco didn't really care. He had enough things to worry about back home, without having to take care not to (and here he almost blushed) "impregnate a female of the species" as his father put it. A female of the human species, Draco had always assumed, although knowing his father, it might very well not be.

Enough! Keep plotting, Draco! Must escape tonight's gathering! He mentally slapped himself, trying to think of a way out of tonight, and the whole weekend. They didn't have potions today, so no accidents there would get him out of it. Besides, Snape always turned up at these things, and he would probably make sure Draco wouldn't get injured… just so he could laugh at him later on.

Dammit! Charms and Herbology only? I hate my life. Hate. It. With. A. Passion, he sighed. Collecting his books and bag, he left the Hall to get to Charms early in order to finish his homework before the weekend, when he would have no time at all to work. Crabbe and Goyle were still stuffing their faces.

Blaise came in a few minutes later, eyebrow still raised. It was a very elegantly and eloquently raised eyebrow, but Draco thought the effect was rather ruined when it never went down.

Blaise frowned at him. The eyebrow stayed up.

"What are you doing, Draco? You never do your homework this early."

"I have to return home this weekend. My parents have requested it," Draco replied smoothly, having had time to think up an excuse that was true but vague.

"That may be true, but it's very vague. Feel like sharing the reason?"

"No."

"Oh. Alright then. I'll just go cry to myself in a corner now, shall I?"

"You go do that," Malfoy sneered in a decidedly pureblooded way and returned to work.

Blaise slunk over to a corner and put his head in his hands. Immediately, a swarm of roughly five girls surrounded him and squealed "Aw, poor Blaisie!" while shooting Draco evil looks.

Draco ignored them. It was almost class-time anyway, and Flitwick would surely throw them out.

He was proved correct a few minutes later, as he watched the girls being swept out in a miniature tornado conjured by Flitwick, and a sulking Blaise joined him at their desk.

The rest of the day continued in a similar matter. Nothing really went wrong, but nothing went right either. Blaise seemed to have the idea that annoying Draco would get him answers, and the Weasel continued to swear at every opportunity. Draco didn't think he had heard more yells of 'Bloody Hell!' on any other day.

By the time dinnertime rolled around, Draco was stressed out and desperate. He skipped dinner and ran to the Head students' lounge, where he knew Granger would be reading and eating a quiet meal away from the hustle and bustle of the Great Hall.

"Granger, you have to help me!" he practically shouted in her ear.

"Draco! How many times have I told you to call me Hermione! And please don't shout in my ear. It's not very becoming of a pureblood," she returned calmly.

"Fine," he bit out, and remembered his manners. "Hermione, would you please help me?"

"Ah, a please! Quite amazing, that! Yes, you know I'll help you, you dolt. Just tell me what's wrong, first of all!"

"I, uh, I have this gathering with my family and some others this weekend, and I need to avoid it," he muttered.

Hermione eloquently raised an eyebrow. Draco noticed that it actually wasn't glued in place, unlike Blaise's.

"Draco, what's wrong with a family gathering? It must be pretty bad – I'll admit I've been curious ever since you left the Great Hall in a hurry at breakfast," she said. Her eyebrow had dropped back into place now.

"You don't understand. It's a pureblood tradition, but only my family follows it anymore. I hate it because they pass around the photo album, and…"

"And what?" Hermione was getting impatient in her curiousity.

"And because they mumblemumblemumble," he said with heartfelt fear and a big shudder.

"Draco, speak up, will you?" Hermione was practically rigid with anxiety for Draco, and was gripping the armrests of her chair so hard her knuckles were white.

"I said, they show my most recent nude photos, ok!"

Fin.

A/N: Ahahaha ok I know that was a pointless plot bunny. I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless.

I've also never been interested in writing about Draco before. However, this popped into my mind a while ago and since I'm on a short break from school, I figured it was time to write it down.

I would really appreciate reviews, since they feed the review monsters which in turn feed my muse. You know, review monster, like cookie monster?

I really wish I could write as well as many of the authors whose works I have read… but for now I'll settle for writing one-shots that go nowhere :P