Chapter 2


"Are you paying attention Draco?" Narcissa asked. Her light blue eyes were fixated on every inch of his blank face. He wondered how she could possibly be paying attention herself if she was so intent on staring at him.

Draco looked at his mother and frowned. " I have heard everything Master Finwiddle has said about policies of state, royal expectations and so on."

The Queen glared at him before turning back toward the tutor as a signal that he ought to continue his lecture. Draco bit his inner cheek and faced forward in an effort to appear studious. Draco sat perfectly erect on his hard wooden stool, but his eyes continued to shift back and forth between Finwiddle's mouth and the other objects in the ornately decorated school room.

Just as Finwiddle began his speech on foreign relations with the neighboring territories, Draco suddenly asked, "What a lovely little lie we've played on the whole of the rest of the world, or at least the relevant parts of it that actually manage to matter."

Narcissa's mouth formed into a long slit, but she allowed Draco to continue without interruption. Master Finwiddle did not try very hard to appear pleased as he was rudely interruped. His lecture was of the utmost importance and urgency and quite pleasing to the ear if he did say so himself.

"...Circulating a disgusting rumor that some girl ran away from me (as if any eligible girl would ever run away from a bachelor prince) in such a hurry that she managed to leave her terribly impractical glass shoe on our marble steps.," Draco continued as he examined a loose thread on his thin shirt, "As if someone at the ball wouldn't have noticed some sad sack of a girl teetering across the dance floor as if possessed in an attempt to keep her balance while wearing shoes with no traction."

As his mother delicately narrowed her eyes as she was prone to do and Master Finwiddle's upper eyelid began to twitch, Draco put a finger up this chin and smirked, "I used quite a few "as if's" in that statement. Finwiddle you must improve my vocabulary."

Finwiddle managed to look uncomfortable, while Narcissa's eyes cut through Draco's skin like a letter opener. Findwiddle knew of Narcissa's silent wrath and could not fathom why the boy continued to bait her at every turn. If King Lucious was a black python, she was the snake venom.

"Come come Finwiddle tell Old Draco who is responsible for creating this little tactic? You? One of the Advisors?" Draco's cold eyes drilled into Finwiddle's and the short man turned helplessly to the Queen. He was quite between a rock and hard place.

"Ah Mother," the Prince said, turning towards her, "I knew I had you to thank for contributing your shoes, but I trust that that was the limit of your involvement." Draco's statement hung in the air like a question and Narcissa had the decency to ignore it.

"Don't be insufferable. With King Lordis and Chief What's-His-Face all seeking wives from the same general area we had to drum up some sort of interest in you. It's purely strategic . Some overly romantic heiress with land and gold will find the temptation too great."

"So my glittering good looks and charm aren't enough?" Draco asked sarcastically.

"You had the charisma of a dead worm at the ball. The event was disintegrating quickly. People were noticing your general disdain for human contact and cold attitude towards everyone and everything. A distraction was in order."

Draco glowered, but even he could acknowledge some well known truths about himself.. He was a selfish, thin boy with the disposition and skin coloring of a cold clam. At the ball, his thick tunic only served to exaggerate his frail frame, while his oversized stockings only made it more obvious that he was incapable of filling them and caused his leggings to sag down into his tight dress slippers. If it had not been a tradition that he should wear the same outfit that had been passed down his family line like a bread basket, he might have looked somewhat acceptable.

Feeling slightly embarrassed that his mother's brand of blunt honesty had hurt him, Draco fired back at her, "And what if your distraction comes to bit you in the neck? What if some downtrodden servant happens upon this glorious slipper?"

Narcissa blanched with lady like grace and then waved her hand as if fanning away the idea,. "Don't be silly. Benzelark was specifically instructed to go to all the noble and wealthy homes within a two hundred meter radius first. His riding party was to visit a peasant or two purely for the sake of publicity and to increase national pride. Our specifications were very clear on that. We must throw them a bone every now and again. They must think that even they can elevate given the right circumstances. It increase morale and if you were listening to Finwiddle you'd know that. " Draco bit his inner lip again and Finwiddle seemed less agitated.

"Besides," she continued flippantly, "The poor have massive feet. It is immensely common and necessary for their balance while seeding and planting or whatever else they are deemed worthy enough to do. There's no concern of that being an issue."


"Benzelark smells like a perfumed piece of sugar dipped in sunshine," Hermione thought to herself as she glided through countryside in his plush carriage of purples and light golds. The seats were soft taffy under her bottom and the aroma of sweet meats encapsulated the cabin. She tried hard to ignore that her dirty skirts left light stains on the seat fabric as she tentatively reached for a treat. Benzelark looked away from her as if to pretend he did not see the marks on his benches. She was grateful.


I'm not sure what brought me back here. Boredom probably.