"First on the agenda is a change in robes," my father said, looking at a rather lengthy piece of parchment. "Something fitting, preferably in a dark green, if you don't mind."
I sniffed, staring sideways out of the fogged window of the flying train. They could make a train fly, but they can't manage to un-fog the windows? What a magical world.
"I do, thanks," was my curt reply.
He'd already begun listing off the "second thing on the agenda", but the piercing stare from Orion reminded me to keep my lip to myself. Somewhere between the fourth and fifth I began to pay attention to the words my father was actually speaking instead of the Latin that would go into the making of an anti-fog spell.
"Finally, we will return to our home, where you will speak with your grandmother in her library over her nightcap."
"Got it!" I said, hopping up from the seat. "Now is this casual, formal, cocktail? What kinda dress are we talkin' about here, Pops?"
Flabbergasted, he looked towards Orion. "Cocktail, darling," the stoic man confirmed.
I returned half an hour later, my hair and makeup magicked in place, a black silk robe covering my cocktail attire.
Tilting my knee inwards, and looking towards my strappy heels, I said, "Like the shoes, Ori?"
He continued to stare at the foggy window.
"Oi, Ori! Shoes, mate?"
My father coughed under his breath, pointing to my seat.
"Guess it's too early for a nickname, then."
We walked from the train station, something I would've loved to know before I changed out of my sensible flats. Blocks from where the train landed, we happened upon an entirely ordinary looking row of muggle townhouses.
"This is the Great and Noble House of Black you were so chatty about during the train ride?" I mumbled, adjusting my heel strap off an oncoming blister. I wasn't surprised when Orion didn't respond, but I was surprised when he shoved a piece of paper into my hands.
"What's this, a love note? Orion, you shouldn't have…" I trailed off, my eyebrows creasing in confusion. An address?
I was hustled through the entrance of the newly formed building and straight into the arms of a rather flustered boy. There was barely any time to comprehend the idea of a hidden home, nevertheless the reason for such a spell. The hair was neatly coifed, slick and black, and his dress-robes equally so. An older woman of great resemblance tutted from the top of the stairs, slowly taking each step. Her silvery gown fluttered at her feet like liquid metal, and her eyes were just as deadly. She regarded Orion carefully, and I easily concluded that this must be the mistress of the most Noble House of Black.
"You've arrived just in time for the First Summer Ball, Orion."
"You said seven, didn't you?" my father remarked, tapping at his watch and grinning awkwardly. "Blasted time zones."
"Well, we're here Walburga. Now, make the announcement," Orion said, perfecting his tie, "And Regulus, get back to your seat. We will have proper introductions later."
The boy, righting himself up off the floor, nodded deeply before hurrying down the grand hallway.
Past the front entrance staircase, double doors were thrown wide, revealing a cavernous ballroom filled to the brim with only the most proper and polite of society. My heart continued to go pitter-pat beneath the revealing black lace of my dress all the way up to the dark doorway. Father held my hand, keeping me back from the entrance. "Wait, dear, they have to announce us."
Orion entered to a light smattering of applause (no introduction needed for this man, apparently), bowing his head quickly in acknowledgment.
As we stood back, I scanned the room, noticing foreign diplomats, spoiled children, and pouting pre-teens. I noted sadly that there were few around my age, although the roguish boy smirking in the corner seemed promising. A bit too blonde for my taste, though...
"-and his enchanting daughter, Iris Melania Knox!"
Again with the middle name. I guess I had missed my father's introduction as I undressed the long-haired blonde with my eyes.
Walburga couldn't look more like the picture of radiance as she stood with Orion at the head of the table, glass of champagne high in the air. I don't think I could ever look that refined or elegent. Timidly, I joined them, as per my father's insistent hand gestures.
"What a magnificent night this will be," Orion began. "Let us properly welcome our newcomer into England."
At once, a sullen house elf with enormous ears and golf ball eyes accosted me. "May Kreacher take your robe, miss?"
I shrugged off the silken robe, feeling the reassuring pressure of my nine-inch Oak pressed in between my bra strap. Formality dictates that only the men wave around their wands in polite society, but it's been quite a long time since this particular society was polite.
"Our lovely Araminta," he nodded towards a haggardly drawn woman drowning in black, "has once again submitted her bill for approval to the Ministry. Let us all hope that by next year our ancestor's hunting grounds of London will be fair game again." I choked back a surprised laughed, a puff of air releasing through my lips violently. The boy I'd run into when I entered the house widened his eyes, and took a quick sip from his champagne glass.
"And another year has passed for our beloved progenies at Hogwarts and Durmstrang." Each child straightened up, some refusing to look up from their plates. "Some more fruitful than others."
"Yet hope on the horizon is growing. Let us remember the proximity of this as we dine and celebrate tonight." The senior Black raised his glass in a toast, and the rest of the party followed his suit. I took a deep sip of champagne, hammering back the glass until nothing was left. The moment I placed it back on the table, it refilled.
I hadn't smiled so hard since Harold had learned the exact position of my g-spot in fourth year.
All eyes were on me, and I could feel their judgment. My dad let out a strangled gasp, tugging my wrist so I was close enough to hear him whisper out of the side of his strained lips. He had finally torn himself away from an extremely gregarious vampire.
"Where in the hell did you get such a dress?"
"Well, France, of course," I answered, tugging at the top of my dress to ensure it adequately covered the majority of my cleavage. The tug also revealed more leg, and I suppressed an obnoxious grin noticing the prude pure-blooded house wives turn to each other to gossip. The near-albino man in the shadows still had his smirk, and I still had his attention. Even after I finished my fifth flute of champagne.
"For Merlin's sake, put a shrug on or some-"
I stood from my chair, swaying from the blood rush, and walked away, wrenching my wrist from his grasp. My shoulders were squared, and my eyes were locked with an icy blue gaze. His smirk widened into predatory smile as I reached his corner, ignoring every greeting and introduction thrown my way. If I was forced to attend this soiree, I was at least going to make a night of it.
"Iris…" he drawled my name, almost succeeding in making it two syllables, and then bowed, holding my hand delicately. His lips grazed my knuckles before he looked up into my eyes. "My name is Lucius Malfoy, and the pleasure is all mine."
My heart fluttered and I bit my lip, my eyes never leaving his. "Don't be selfish…"
His lips returned to the almost natural slanted position. "Only through first-hand experience will you know that being selfish is not in my repertoire."
Music slowly began to fill the ballroom, the band striking up a tune as appetizers appeared on the house elves trays.
"Care to dance?" Lucius said, his hand never leaving my own. His hands were oddly soft, and his thumb was tracing a circular pattern across my scarred palm. The other gently stroked my hip. "Or maybe... an appetizer?"
"Not particularly… I don't fancy Tchaikovsky. Or caviar."
My fingers wound around his as I tugged him deeper into the shadows, behind one of the many pillars. I leaned against it, my other hand finding his, pulling him closer to me. No sense in formalities.
And with a swift motion, my hands were above my head, clasped like a handcuff. "Little girl, do you know who I am?"
"Lucius Malfoy… as you've said," I mumbled, aware of every inch of his body as it towered over my form. Even my four inch heels couldn't keep me at eye level with this man. Heat pooled in between my thighs as I arched against him. I was surprised when I didn't feel anything poking out from his dress robes.
The situation changed completely. I smiled in a bashful manner, tugging lightly at my wrists, trying to regain control. If he wasn't interested in hot and heavy fornication, what did he want from me? "Mr. Malfoy… I believe you must inform my father of your intentions before we proceed any further."
His predatory smile returned.
"Oh, just where I left you, Malfoy!" a voice called, cutting through the tension like a heated knife through butter. My wrists were released immediately, and my hands went to work smoothing out my dress while covering my amble assets.
"Attacking a perfectly helpless girl…" The interrupting man held out a hand, elbowing Lucius aside. "Sirius Black, at your service, m'lady."
I took his hand and shook slowly, my eyes still locked with Lucius. He was fuming, pushing his long hair back with his soft hands before turning on a heeled boot to leave.
"Until we meet again," was his parting comment.
