A Black Tie Affair

Chapter 4: Hopeful Beginnings

A/N: See, quicker updates! I told you.

Draco was grinning from ear to ear as Daphne led him up the stairs by the arm. She was practically running, and he had to admit that he appreciated her enthusiasm. They went around a corner, down a hall, and around another corner. He made a note of memorizing the route for future reference.

She stopped at last before the third door on the left. "Well," she said, smiling, "this one's mine."

She opened the door, and it was like an explosion of green across his retinas. He quickly began to differentiate: the walls were white, the floors were hardwood, but everything inside the room was green.

He raised a hand to shield his eyes. She stuck her tongue out at him. "It's my favourite colour," she protested.

"Really? I never would've noticed."

"Oh, shut it, Draco," she rolled her eyes and took his hand again, pulling him into the room. Much to her annoyance, Draco pretended to be blind, and used her as a sort of seeing-eye dog.

"If I take my shirt off, it's your loss," Daphne said with a shrug.

Draco opened his eyes immediately. She laughed. "Really, you must be joking," she snorted as she sat down on her bed. Draco sat down next to her. "What's there to joke about?" he asked, grinning.

She ignored him and said, "So what brings you out here?"

He looked at her, suspicious. "I'm trying to get my father out of Azkaban, remember?"

"Yes," she said airily, "but what really brings you here?"

"Oh," he said, and trailed off, thinking. "I suppose it's you. Are you flattered? If the answer to that is 'no', then perhaps you should re-evaluate your life."

"That was precisely the answer I was looking for," she sighed and lay back on her bed. Draco sat down next to her, leaning against one of the posts.

"So what's your story, Draco Malfoy?"

He shrugged. "You already know it. Most people do. I'm rather popular, you see."

"You don't say," she said sardonically. "But are you sure that isn't just the tough-guy faรงade you wake up and put on every morning?"

He laughed. "I'm positive," he lied.

She snorted. "Sure, sure."

"Hey!" Draco countered," if I was so focused on being tough, why would I be here, sitting on your bed, talking about myself?"

"Hmm, good point. But maybe you're just doing it in the hopes of getting some?"

Draco scoffed. "Me?" he asked innocently. "Think about who you're talking to, Daphne!"

"You're digging yourself a grave here," she giggled.

"But answer me this," he said seriously. "If all I wanted was to get some, why would I have broken up with Pansy? She's the easiest ticket to sex there is."

"Well," Daphne said slyly, "It's 'cause you want the best."

Draco laughed. "Oh, and that's you, is it?"

"You best believe it is, Malfoy!" Daphne yelled with mock affront.

"There's only one way to find though, innit?" Draco said, raising an eyebrow. He let himself fall forward so he was lying next to her on her bed, arm under his head.

She rolled her eyes again. "Really," she snorted. "You must try harder."

"Sorry," he grinned, "Used to Pansy."

She sighed. "I think you'll find the experience of being with someone who isn't an insufferable whore quite rewarding... in due time."

"Gonna make me work for it, then, Greengrass?" he murmured, his face only inches from hers.

"Why give it up all at once?" she smiled.

"I can admire that. Just don't expect your resolve to last very long."

"And why's that?" she breathed.

"Cause I'm a Malfoy," Draco whispered, and he leaned in, closing the tiny gap between them, and kissed her. There was something about lying on her bed that made it so much better. It was like, he didn't have to worry about moving, or standing, or balancing, or anything. He could focus every ounce of his consciousness on how amazing she felt against him. His arms wrapped around her and suddenly she was pressed against him, their limbs entwining just as their tongues, and it was bliss. Draco never wanted to move again.

Movement, however, was inevitable. Daphne broke the kiss just long enough to pull Draco's shirt over his head, and he did the same for her, and her bra quickly followed. The two resumed kissing, even more passionately than before, their hands searching each other's bodies, gliding over skin and running through hair. Daphne gave a low moan when Draco's hand found her most sensitive area, but it was stifled by the kiss.

They continued like this for some time, Draco's fingers plunging inside her while she clawed at his back with her nails, her mouth against his.

Thunk. The noise had come from somewhere in the hall.

Draco whipped his head around to look at the door. "The hell was that?" he whispered.

"Dunno," Daphne whispered back. "Someone might've slipped on the stairs." And they both heard someone humming in a high voice, walking past the door.

"Astoria," muttered Daphne. Draco let out a sigh of relief it wasn't one of her parents or one of the party guests or something. The door might have a locking charm on it (or at least he hoped it did), but the room wasn't soundproof. As much as he thought Esme liked him, he didn't want to test that by being caught half-naked with her daughter.

Draco leaned over to grab his shirt, but Daphne slapped his arm. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Folding my shirt properly," he sniffed, as he reached over for it. "Merlin knows I don't want to leave it in a crumpled heap on the floor. We're attending a party later this evening."

She laughed. His eyes narrowed. "Well, maybe you don't care, but I'd rather everyone didn't think of me as a peasant farmer on first sight."

Daphne snorted. "Peasant farmer. Really. With that hair? Keep dreaming, Draco." Nonetheless, his black shirt was folded immaculately and placed on her bedside table. He got back on the bed once more. "Now, where were we?"

"A good question," she said, before their lips met once more.

. . .

When Daphne and Draco emerged from the room some time later, hair slightly rumpled, they had wide grins on their faces. Holding hands, they stepped downstairs. Astoria stared at them as though they had some kind of horrible disease.

"Seriously? You guys met, like, yesterday," she scoffed.

Daphne scowled at her. "Grown-ups work differently than stupid thirteen year olds, Tory."

"My name is Astoria, and for your information, I am turning fourteen in 41 days, thank you very much."

Daphne snorted. "And? The ickle 14- year- old doesn't know anything more than she did a year ago.

Astoria huffed and stomped off. Draco was certain he heard her mutter, "bunch of tossers," under her breath as she departed.

"Bit fiery, isn't she?" Draco ventured.

"You mean she's a raging bitch? Yeah. The worst part is that she's not going to hit the apex of her obnoxiousness for another year yet, at least. I sincerely can't wait until I'm out of here."

"At least you have someone to taunt during the summer," Draco shrugged.

"Awww, does ickle Draco get wonely in his big, empty house?" Daphne mocked.

"Shut up, Daphne. I don't get lonely, I get bored. There's a sizable difference."

"Sure, sure," she grinned.

They proceeded outside through the back door and onto the veranda to find Esme and a whole mob of guests. Sitting and standing, some holding drinks, there was a buzz of pleasant conversation in the air. Esme spotted Draco and Daphne, and came up to them, smiling.

"Draco! I'm so glad you decided to stay."

"The pleasure's mine. I must apologize again for my mother. She's rather distraught about father's imprisonment. She's not taking it nearly as well as I'd hoped."

"Don't worry about it, Draco," Esme said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I don't know what I'd do if Andrew were in the same position."

Draco nodded, assuming that Andrew must be Mr. Greengrass.

"I'm sorry to say that things aren't going too well in regards to your father's case. The Ministry have been horribly incompetent of late, and it seems that your father and the others arrested will be made into scapegoats. The Ministry wants to set an example. Don't lose hope yet, though. There's still a week before the trial, and I'll be working nonstop between now and then."

Draco nodded grimly. He had always figured there would be nothing they could do.

"Anyway, don't let me get you down. You two enjoy yourselves," she smiled and walked off in the direction of a rather loud group of chatty witches.

"Find us somewhere to sit," Daphne said in his ear. "I'll go get drinks." Draco nodded and scanned the large patio. He found a small table off in the corner that looked nice. It was a ways away from the thronging crowds, so they would be able to speak freely.

He wandered over and sat down, noticing the candle in the middle of the table. He smirked. "Incendio," he muttered. The candlewick burst into a small and unnaturally bright flame, which promptly turned blue, bathing the immediate area in azure. He leaned back in the patio chair and waited for Daphne.

A short time later she came back, carrying to two tumblers have full of what, from the reddish tinge, looked to be firewhiskey. In the blue light, however, it was hard to tell.

She passed him the glass and he took a sip. Definitely firewhiskey, he thought, as the liquid burned its way down his throat. He stared at Daphne. She looked dazzling in the flickering blue light, which managed to meld perfectly with her light skin.

They had been sitting there in silence, drinking, for some time, before Daphne finally said, "What'll you do if your dad loses the trial?"

"I dunno," Draco sighed. "There's not much to do. Just keep going, I guess."

She put her hand on top of his. "I'll be here for you, Draco."

"I know," he said, and smiled. "Thanks."

They passed the night together, sitting in their corner, talking and drinking. They were disturbed only once, when a couple of men that Draco vaguely recognized came over.

"Mr. Malfoy," said one, a thuggish looking man with slicked back hair. Draco looked at him through narrowed eyes, the alcohol slightly obscuring his vision.

"Whozzat?" Daphne slurred.

The man smiled tightly at the two. "We work for your father."

Draco nodded. That would be where he recognized them from.

"We were, ah, wondering when you'd be joining the fold," said the other.

Draco looked at them again, confused. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Well, now that your father's gone..." the one said.

Draco's eyes flew open. "Leave now," he hissed, pulling out his wand. They just smiled and walked off. Draco returned his wand to his pocket.

"What was that about?" Daphne managed.

"Nothing," Draco said shortly. "Just some friends of my father's mouthing off 'cause they've had too much to drink. Don't worry about it."

Daphne, contented with his explanation, left it at that and returned to her drink. But Draco found himself in a different boat. His mind was racing, full of questions.

They couldn't have been serious, could they? They didn't want him. They didn't seriously expect him to replace his Father. There was no way. He was only sixteen after all. He'd be going back to Hogwarts in September! There was no way, no way, no way.

He repeated that to himself, over and over, and after a time began to believe it. He dismissed the two as drunks, mouthing off to try and impress him. They didn't know anything.

At least, that was what he told himself.