Title: Sweetest Downfall
Disclaimer: I do not own any of Harry Potter or its characters. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Lucius/OC, Harry/Draco, Harry/Snape (if you squint at it just right)
A/N: Dark!Harry, Emotion(No, not EMO)!Snape. Mad little drabble about nothing in particular. Bit of slash, bit of fluff, bit of angst. Liquorice all sorts! Sorry, manipulated the plot a bit: Narcissa is dead (sadly – I quite liked her), Lucius is alive (I don't remember if he was at the end of the slightly sacrilegious last HP book, but he's alive for this), and Harry... well, you'll just have to find out. Oh!! Yeah, and Snape's alive. I love Sev and Lu too much to let them stay dead, so I wrote this. Please comment and I hope you enjoy it :)
Un lien malgré les barrières
It was midwinter of the year after the dark lord had been defeated. Many had followed the great Harry Potter to honourable death in the face of evil during the war. Among them was Narcissa Malfoy, Lady of Malfoy manor. After pulling her son out of the wreckage of Hogwarts School, she had protected him from those who fought for the dark lord, and successfully returned him to the Manor before returning to find her sister. It cannot be said that Narcissa Malfoy was a kind and gentle woman, but she was loyal and she loved her husband and son with a fierce passion. She had died that night during the fighting, and Lord Malfoy and his heir had been in mourning ever since.
Tradition dictated that every midwinter's day, Malfoy Manor would hold a ball for all the pureblood families who were able to attend. The grand hall had been decorated in silver and blue and lit with charmed candles with white flames. A band was playing elegantly in the corner and guests were moving around and holding amicable conversation, drinking champagne from crystal glasses. The Malfoys were nothing if not stylish.
Lucius Malfoy, Lord of Malfoy Manor, had dressed in black robes adorned with silver and diamonds, and carried his serpent cane in his right hand. His platinum blond hair fell like whispers on his shoulder. His son and heir, Draco, had dressed in black trousers and a flowing black robe with dark green silk and emeralds glittering in the dim light. At precisely 9:00pm, The Lord and his son stood at the doors to the grand hall. The band finished their melody. The guests immediately stilled and turned to face them. Lucius sighed, and spoke to the company.
"It pleases me to see so many familiar faces. It is reassuring to know that there are still some who hold fast to the values that generations of Malfoys have upheld. I thank you all for attending, and I hope you will enjoy this evening and keep my dear wife in your thoughts"
All who were present raised their glasses and bowed their heads in reverent silence. The band continued to play, and the murmur of voices resumed. The two went to sit at a table at the front of the hall. Many pureblood families were introduced to the two blonds during the course of the evening: older ladies and mothers - countesses and baronesses alike, proud men in smart dress robes, and (of course) young daughters hoping to attract the gaze of the younger Malfoy. All were received with politesse and courteousness, but it was bewildering to Draco, who turned to his father.
"Why must we do this? I do not intend to marry so soon, and surely some could be a little more... discreet?"
"Draco, it is your duty to meet all of the eligible young ladies of the pureblood lines, and besides – many of them aren't all that bad?"
"Indeed a number of them are not hard on the eyes" Draco agreed with a smirk, "but it all bores me so, and..."
He was cut short by the presence of a stunning young woman approaching the table where they were seated. She had shimmering brown hair which lay in gentle curls about her shoulders. She wore a silver ball dress, relatively low-cut, with fine black beads and tiny diamonds sewn in the pattern of a dragon that coiled from her right shoulder diagonally down towards the hem on the left of her skirts. She wore matching silver gloves, a sparkling silver necklace in the shape of a serpent with tiny emerald eyes and a shawl made of spiders' silk wrapped around her. She reached the table and stood in front of the Lord and his heir, who were enthralled. She smiled nervously and gracefully inclined her head and lowered her eyes.
"My lords..." her voice wove spells in the air through which it travelled, and she held her humbled position. "My name is Céline Bellevoix; I am the daughter of Lord and Lady Bellevoix of Châteaux Beaumanoir in Toulouse. My parents send their most heartfelt apologies that they could not attend, they have urgent business with the werewolf packs in Russia and will be engaged for many weeks." She looked somewhat saddened, but kept her composure.
Draco realised that his mouth had been slightly open and, mortified, he quickly shut it. Lucius, however, was more practised and had been listening to the girl with interest. He stood elegantly and walked over to the girl. He took her hand and she straightened up as he kissed it softly.
"Enchanté, mademoiselle." Her delighted laugh lit up her features. Subconsciously, his stony expression melted away. "It is a great pleasure to meet you, Miss Bellevoix, and I am sure if he were capable of speech at present, my son would almost certainly convey similar sentiments. May I express my concern and best wishes for your parents?"
"Thank you, my Lord." She said, giving him a small but grateful smile, "and may I express my joy at being here and my admiration for the wonderful décor. I have never seen anything like it. Your son is handsome, my Lord and you are..." a slight blush touched her cheeks "... strikingly magnifique tonight. I have seen you in many pictures and newspapers, but they do not do you justice."
"Thank you." The tall, superior man found himself flattered. It had been many years since someone had complimented him in this manner, and indeed someone so young and beautiful. The band began to play a waltz and a space cleared in the middle of the hall. Lucius looked pensively at the girl. "I wonder whether you would care to dance, mam'selle?"
Her eyes brightened. "Nothing would give me greater pleasure!"
He offered his arm and they swept onto the floor. They turned to face each other, bowed, and she stepped forward. Almost as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his arm slipped around her waist, their hands entwined and they began to waltz. Nobody joined Lord Malfoy and his captivating partner on the floor; they were too busy enjoying the way the two danced. Lucius moved with the elegance of experience, and Céline moved as if she were a part of him, matching his step perfectly. Lucius' eyes never left hers, and as the song finished she felt that she could have carried on all night. Everybody cheered and the couple bowed again politely and left the floor together.
"Would you like a drink, Miss Bellevoix?"
"Yes please, my Lord. And please call me Céline."
"Then you may call me Lucius. Wait here, I shall return shortly... Céline."
She beamed, "Thank you Lucius."
Draco was waiting for him by the refreshments, grinning. Lucius poured two glasses and turned to his son.
"Alright, Draco. What is it?"
Draco took on an expression of mock innocence.
"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, father"
"Draconis Malfoy... I have raised you from birth, known you for the duration of your time on this earth, and as such I know that you are hiding something from me. What is it?"
Draco sighed and looked at his father seriously. "Can you see it?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"When you danced with Céline and gazed into her eyes. Could you see it?" He asked again, unfazed.
"Draco, I... Céline is a lovely girl, very amiable. She is also very young, and..."
"Lucius Malfoy, Lord of Malfoy Manor and current proprietor to the Malfoy estates and fortune, are you telling me that a girl is out of your league?" A smirk played on Draco's lips.
"Of course not, insolent boy! But she is young, and I have already reached a point in life where..."
"Go to her. Tell her she's gorgeous. Talk with her, laugh, dance. Mother always wanted you to be happy, and heaven knows I do. Just go and enjoy yourself, if not for yourself then for me."
Lucius considered this for a moment, and then huffed in resignation. He started back towards the young lady, grumbling and muttering "Presumptuous brat" under his breath, much to the amusement of his son.
Meanwhile, Céline sat at a nearby table. Although she had just had the most magical dance with Lord Malfoy, about whom she had dreamt many a time, she was worried. Lucius was very powerful, and he had a son. This would not otherwise have worried her, had she not been so very young. She was nearing her 26th birthday, and was still inexperienced and barely mature enough for such a man. Lady Malfoy had been so very commanding, and much older. Céline knew a great deal about Lord Malfoy's world, and could run her own house without a problem. Her concern was whether Lord Malfoy regarded her as but a child. She wondered whether he danced with her out of duty, or worse – pity.
When he returned, he noticed that something was not right. He set down the glasses, and sat beside her. She thanked him, and took a sip.
"You look ravishing, Céline – and you dance exquisitely. I haven't enjoyed myself like that for many years."
"I am glad you are pleased, my Lord. I admit that I lost myself in the music somewhat."
A perfect blond eyebrow arched, "Why the sudden change back to 'My Lord'? Are you quite alright, my dear?"
"Yes, of course Lucius. I have never been happier, except... you shouldn't neglect your other guests for me, I wouldn't want to monopolise you."
Lucius looked into her concerned face, and read his own insecurities there. So Draco was right. "Little rose, there is no one else I would rather be with. Draco can take care of the mingling. For tonight I will do as I wish, and right now that would entail getting to know you better. Will you join me at my table? We can talk without being disturbed."
She was not pleased about his use of 'little' but she held her tongue. Nervously, she reached up to touch his cheek. "Dear man, if that is what you wish, I would be more than happy to oblige."
Lucius beamed, and offered her a hand. She took it and followed him to the front of the hall.
Draco watched them go. Finally he thought. He turned back to Blaise, contented.