Disclaimer: This story is based on the stories and characters created by JK Rowling, and inspired by the poems of T.S. Eliot. I do not own these characters or inspirational ideas, and no money is being made.
Chapter 9. Honour stains
The week dragged on as professors began piling on the work. I had two more reports and three papers due by the end of the week, and I wanted to get the charm for the DA list finished by then too. When Friday finally rolled around, all I wanted to do was lie on the floor and close my eyes.
So that is what I did. Luna, Ginny, and Neville were lounging in my common room, chatting about quidditch, herbology, and nargles, while I was sprawled on my back soaking up the heat from the fire.
I groaned. "Ahhhhh, you should try this. It feels good to groan."
Ginny joined me, then Luna and Neville. Soon all of us were lying on the floor producing a harrowing chorus of groans.
"So cathartic," Neville said, after we quieted down.
There was a knocking at the window. I got up to open it, to see a multi coloured owl standing on the window ledge. He held out a note, which I took, then he flew off into the night.
"Such a pretty bird," Luna said, head raised from her position on the floor.
The note was short and written in a looping hand.
I'm calling in the favour. Come to the Slytherin common room. The password is Focaccia.
I groaned again. I wasn't prepared for this.
"I have to go. Head business."
They started groaning again.
"Feel free to stay. I don't know where Malfoy is, but you're allowed to be here. Tell him to piss of if he says otherwise."
I stopped off in my room to change out of my uniform into something more comfortable and fitting: a tee-shirt and my infamous leather pants. If Blaise needed my help, then I should be prepared for the worst.
I was in the dungeons where it was dark and the air was cold before I realised I didn't know where the Slytherin common room was. I took Blaise's note from my pocket, lighting my wand to read it again, when I saw something strange on the back.
There was a map of the dungeons that wasn't there before. It glowed in the wand light, and at the bottom he had written: I knew you would get lost. I felt my face stretch into a grin.
I followed the map through the dark labyrinth, until I reached a dead end. Torches lighted on either side of a plain stone wall. I referred to the map again, and unless I had made a wrong turn, this should be the entrance. I'd heard that the common room entrance was concealed, much like the Gryffindor common room entrance was behind the portrait of the Fat Lady. I stepped up to the wall, knowing how silly I would look talking to a wall if anyone happened to see me, and spoke "Focaccia" with confidence. The stone wall opened from the middle, swinging out like double doors. What I saw inside astonished me.
It was a long dark hall with vaulted ceiling, packed with people, and all the furniture was pushed to the walls. Music burst from inside, and soft lights pulsed, lighting the room like tempered lightning. I stepped forward, and the doors shut by themselves behind me. I turned to the wall that was solid stone again, searching for the exit, horrified to find myself trapped in the snake den. A hand clutched my shoulder, and I drew my wand.
"Careful with that, Frey. I'm already going to be in trouble for brining you here."
"Blaise! What in Merlin is going on?"
He took my hand and lead me down a corridor. "We can't talk here." We went through a heavy wooden door and into an dormitory. He looked around to ensure we were alone. "So, what do you think?"
"What do I think about what?"
"The Fortnight. The first one of the year is always a lot of fun."
I crossed my arms and leaned against a four poster bed. "I think it's ridiculous. Why am I here? And why is it called a Fortnight? Oh, let me guess, because they happen every fortnight."
Blaise nodded. He looked good tonight, wearing a forest green dress shirt with a black vest. His trousers fit well, really well, and I think he was wearing eyeliner. "The password to the Slytherin common room changes ever two weeks on the Saturday. It's been a long standing tradition that Slytherins host a party on the Friday before the change, giving out the password to whomever they please. It's always a riot."
"I thought that a non-Slytherin hadn't entered the common room for seven centuries?"
"Eh, that's a myth. We let other houses in here all the time, every two weeks, in fact."
"Fantastic, Blaise," I said, letting sarcasm drip from my lips. "I'm so glad you've invited me to your snake party. I can't wait to get clubbed over the head by one of your Cro-Magnon housemates. How is this a favour, again?"
"You know Pansy Parkinson, right?"
"Of course. She was always hanging off Malfoy."
"Last year, Malfoy was busy and mopey because of his… er… task, and Pansy gave up on him. I got her to come to a lot of these parties with me. It is really good for my image to have ladies with me in public. I tried to convince her to continue to attend the Fortnights with me, but she complained that I wasn't putting out. Now more than ever I need to appear straight."
I nodded. "You need me to be your beard."
"Exactly."
"Do I have a choice?"
"Of course you do. Walk out the door, but I'll be very disappointed, and I could get in a lot of trouble in the long run."
"This is more than making up for you covering for me the other day," I said, feeling squirmy.
"Then I'll owe you one."
"I don't like owing with you. It leads to strange places."
"So, will you do it?"
"Yes," I sighed. "But you'll have to promise to keep the death eaters away from me."
"No harm shall come to you, as my honoured guest." He stepped over to a bed and rummaged through the trunk at the foot of it. He emerged with a toilet bag and a pair of scissors. "But first, we need make some alterations."
"What are those for?" I slouched away from him.
He approached me wielding the scissors like a dagger. "That shirt is atrocious. I can't be seen with you wearing that."
I took his scissors from him. "I like this shirt!" It was an old red Gryffindor shirt of my father's, and the print had worn off. I hand embroidered the symbol for Ollivander's Wand Shop, and the name Ollivander across the bottom.
"Yes, I'm sure it's great, but unless you want to just take it off, I'm making changes." He held my sleeve and began to cut along the seam. I closed my eyes and allowed the violation of my clothes.
When he was finished, I had no sleeves, my midriff was bare, and there was a slit coming down the from of my shirt leaving my bra and breasts open to the world. I hunkered over. "I don't know, Blaise."
"Don't worry, your breasts are great!"
I rolled my eyes at him, grimacing.
"We're not finished yet." He pulled my hair out of its long braid, arranging it around my shoulders. He then took eyeliner from his bag, lining my lids and waterline, and put mascara on my lashes. He gave me a lipstick to put on.
"It's not my shade," examining the deep plumb.
"I know, it's mine. Now, go put it on." He slapped my ass as I walked over to the mirror. "I really like the pants, by the way. Are they real?"
"Yes. They are one of my most proud possessions."
When all was finished, Blaise measured me and found nothing wanting. Hand in hand, we walked out into the barrage of noise in the common room. He lead me right to a table where drinks were being served.
"What is it?" I called out over the wailing of a woman accompanied by electric guitar.
"Old Fashion with fire whisky. I thought I'd start you off with something sweet."
I took a sip and immediately loved it. I killed the drink, and made myself another strong one. "I'll need a lot of these if I'm going to do this."
Blaise laughed, and I giggled. We took our drinks to the other side of the dance floor, watching the students flailing in the middle. I was surprised to see so many students I knew. There were lots of Ravenclaw's, and even a few Hufflepuffs. I couldn't believe that for seven years I hadn't known about the fortnight parties when so many people were involved. I made a mental note to ask Luna if she knew anything about this.
Harper appeared out of the crowd, and I groaned. Ever since the first prefect meeting, I had the feeling that he was taking a liking to me. He convinced Malfoy to put him on the same rounds as me, and more often than not, he would say something to me if he ran into me in the library.
He ran up to me, leaning against the wall next to me, out of breath and smelling like sweat and liquor. "Hey Olli, I never thought I'd see you here!"
I gave him my most poisonous look. "I was invited. Go away."
"You should dance. You look great. Come dance with me."
Blaise leaned forward, smiling but getting too close to Harper. "She is with me, mate. She told you to go." Harper slouched off.
"I don't need your help," I muttered.
"I know," he said, holding me close, "but I didn't want to see poor Harper get slapped." He leaned down to talk into my ear. "I am going to need you to dance with me."
"Why? I thought you would destroy my shirt, I would get a drink for my troubles, then I would go home."
"We need to be seen together, so it's either dancing or snogging. I'd prefer to dance, but it is up to you."
I finished my drink, and left it on a bookshelf. "Let's do this."
A sweet song with a steady drum beat that I recognised came on, and Blaise took my hand, leading me onto the dance floor. We took an open spot, and he took both my hands. "You do know how to dance, don't you?"
He pushed my hands and we fell perfectly into step with the music, pulling my hand above my head and turning me twice. I grinned. It had been a long time since I had danced, and it felt so good.
"You do know what you're doing!"
He threw me into a spin and tugged me back to him in closed position. "I took muggle ballet classes as a child," I said quietly while rolling my hips. The dancing was hot, hard, and fast. Blaise was excellent, leading me into moves I couldn't even image. To onlookers it looked like we were making love right there on the dance floor, all while he left at least an inch between us at all times. I laughed, and he grinned, and we had a blast swirling, stepping, dipping, and twice tripping over our own feet. At the end of a song, he lifted me into the air, just like in Dirty Dancing.
"Blaise, this is incredible!" The whole world melted away and I forgot where I was. All I knew was that we were dancing like heroes and Blaise was my friend.
He was breathing hard, and grinning down at me. "I think everyone here is questioning my sexuality for me. Let's get more drinks."
We crossed to the drinks table, not bothering with cocktails this time. We took a shot of fire whisky, and the whole idea of a Slytherin party became more amenable to me. "I wish you had invited me to one of these sooner!" I hugged Blaise around the waist. "I promise, if You-Know-Who wins this war, I'll marry you and be your forever beard."
He ruffled my hair. "Marrying a half blood like you wouldn't do me much good, I think."
My cheeks grew hot and I looked away, swallowing hard against a feeling that was choking me.
"Hey! Look who's turned up."
From out of the crowd, Malfoy swaggered towards us, lips pursed into a smile.
"Babe," Blaise said, slapping Malfoy on the arm, "this girl can dance. She is a natural. I told you, didn't I? You can tell by her walk."
"You did tell me." His smirk grew and he leaned against the table. "How are you liking the Fortnight?"
I shrugged, throwing nonchalance out like a bucket of cold water. "It's a bunch of bullshit, really, not as good as I heard. The only thing tolerable about it is Blaise." I raised a fresh shot. "And the alcohol."
I handed the shot to Malfoy and he took it.
"Enough chit chat, let's dance." Blaise took me back out to the dance floor.
A slow song played a little while later, and we spun lazily. The vocalist sung about losing someone you love because of your own mistakes, a melancholy tune, and I felt it acutely. When I looked up at Blaise, the look on his face made me ache more.
"What's wrong?" I reached up to stroke his face, somber and tight with pain. He shook his head, stepping away from me.
"I need to sit this one out. Too much to drink." He left me where I was standing, wandering to the dormitory door. I watched him go, and I started to follow him, but there was a hand at my shoulder.
"Give him some time. It's best to leave him alone when he gets like this." Malfoy was standing beside me, sipping on an old fashioned.
I nodded, and wandered back to the party.
Soon, I was chatting with a Ravenclaw girl raving about how sexy Blaise's dancing was, and how great the sex is, and how I'm going to have his babies. She nodded along in amusement, and I knew she knew he was gay. In fact, I knew she knew I knew he was gay, but I loved that she was playing along with me. Her date called her back, and I kissed her on the cheek, promising her that she would be the godmother of my children. Someone dark approached me and I grinned at him, thinking Blaise had returned.
It wasn't Blaise. It was a white boy with dark hair, a crooked nose, and golden eyes. "Hey, Ollivander. Fancy seeing you here. I liked your dancing."
No, no. I was horrified to see this person approaching me. The reality of my predicament came rushing in. I was in the Slytherin common room, and it was full of drunk people who couldn't be counted on to remember what they saw. It was dark, it was loud. Blaise was gone.
Theodore Nott put his hand on my shoulder and I cringed. He was the son of a Death Eater, maybe even one himself, but I had other, more personal reasons to fear him. "Yeah. I liked my dancing too, Theodor." I re-adjusted my shirt as an excuse to remove his hand from my person, but that only seemed to draw his attention to my body.
"You came here with Zabini? That's interesting. I thought he was a queer, but here you are with him."
Get out your wand! All my bravery and impulsiveness drained out of me, the liquor making me sluggish and stupid. Make him leave you alone.
"But he isn't here, is he?" He stepped closer.
"He went to get more drinks. He'll be right back."
Nott grinned to show crooked teeth. "I don't think so."
"I need a wee!" I shouted. I turned on my heal and walked right away from Theodore Nott. I searched for faces in the crowd, anyone I knew, but not even Harper was there.
I stopped walking at the drink table, busying my hands with making a drink while I thought of ways to escape. He was probably following me right now. I could go to Blaise, or maybe I could just leave. I imagined myself drunk and stumbly trying to get out of the dungeons, then climb the stairs. If I didn't fall to my death, Nott would catch up with me.
Then kill the stupid git!
I looked up with drink in hand to see Malfoy giving me the most curious look. He approached and leaned over the table.
"What's wrong?"
"Nott is freaking me out."
He raised an eyebrow. "Nott is chicken shit."
It was hard for me to believe what I had just heard, and I wouldn't have if I hadn't seen his lips moving. I nodded, and turned to face Nott who was indeed only feet away. I tossed my fresh drink right into his face.
"Oh god! I'm so sorry. I tripped. I'm going to have to make a whole new drink for my baby daddy."
Nott was spluttering, and if he hadn't been so stunned, he might have killed me on the spot. I turned just in time to see Malfoy making a cut it out gesture. Nott stormed off, throwing a soaked cloak on the floor behind him in frustration.
"I liked that."
Malfoy smiled at me, handing me a fresh drink. "Why is that?"
"He terrifies me." I sipped gently, thinking that I had already had enough to drink.
"That's interesting."
"Why?"
"Because Nott is terrified of me, and I'm terrified of you."
"As you should be." I leaned against the wall beside Malfoy. The crowd was full as ever. He finished his drink and leaned across me to put his cup on the drinks table, and I could smell him for a moment. He smelled like pine trees in warm rain, like grass in the winter. I looked at him for the first time that evening. He wore a tight fitting black shirt with a blazer, the sleeves rolled up to show his writs, but not his fore arms. His hair was styled back so it wasn't falling into his face, but not slicked back like he used to wear it when he was younger. He had a somewhat stupid expression on his face, and I could tell he was on his way to drunk.
"Why aren't you dancing?"
"No one caught my fancy."
I pointed across the room. "There is Pansy Parkinson. You used to fancy her."
He rolled his eyes. "Please. That's ancient history. She's all over that 6th year, anyway."
"What about the rest of these lovely ladies?" I gestured to the room at large.
"I prefer dancing, not grinding." There was a long pause while he examined his nails and I stirred my drink with a straw. "You seem to be a pretty good dancer."
"Oh?" I wanted to hear him say it.
He looked me in the eyes as if he wanted the same. He gave in first. "Merlin. Will you dance with me?"
My brain was fuzzy with alcohol, the adrenalin from my encounter with Nott wearing off. I couldn't seem to comprehend the implications of what I was about to agree to. Nargles, I thought and grinned. "Sure. Why not?"
We walked out onto the dance floor together, and he took my hands, leading me into the song. It was quick, and he wasn't as good as Blaise, but it was still enjoyable. He stepped forward, pulling my hand behind his neck to rest on his shoulder. He held my waist and spun us around.
I watched him while we danced, but he looked right over my head. I had strong opinions about dancing etiquette, and looking at your partner is rule number one. It did, however, allow me to look at him unscrutinised. He looked older than I remembered, dark circles were prevalent under his eyes and his cheeks were thin.
He caught me looking at him and sneered. "Like what you see?"
I didn't look away. "You look like your father, Draco."
He missed a step, and we had to count to find the beat again. He was quiet for a while, and the sneer didn't return. "Draco?" he asked.
"Would you rather I call you Death Eater?"
He spun me away with particular force, before pulling me back into extra close closed position. His face was pinched in anger.
"I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."
We spun around again. His hand was pressed against the bare skin at the small of my back, pulling me close to him. We swayed methodically.
He seemed to be doing a lot of thinking. "You've never apologised to me before."
"There is a first time for everything." I grinned up at him.
"Don't smile at me, Frey. We're supposed to hate each other."
The song changed to something slower, more sensual, and my sober brain told me that was enough dancing for the night, but that wasn't the part of my brain in charge. He didn't seem to be making any moves to stop either.
And frankly, I liked the feeling of him against me. Dancing with Blaise had been fast and technical, and while this looked so much more innocent compared to that, something in my stomach was churning. My cheeks were flushed, and I hoped my hair shielded the blush from his view.
I rolled my body against him, getting closer than I would have been comfortable, and I enjoyed feeling him react to me. His leading became more seductive. I was dancing almost on top of him, and I felt challenged to make him uncomfortable first. We danced with our bodies flush, and the heat from him, from the liquor, from the dancing bodies all around made the world spin, or was that us spinning and the world staying still.
"Hold up, less spinning." I gripped his shoulder tight.
"Do you need to sit down?"
"No, just, slow down."
The song changed to something slow, and quiet. The whole room seemed to take a breath. One hand on his arm, the other in his hand against his chest, he held my waist gently again, and I really felt quite comfortable there. He rested his warm cheek against my temple, and we swayed together though the rest of the next song. When it ended I groaned.
"Still not well?"
"No, I'm fine." I stepped back from him. "I'm going to check on Blaise."
He nodded and followed me.
"What happened? You didn't explain earlier, but you seem to know what is going on."
His lips pursed. "He gets like this sometimes when he is drunk. He gets mopey, then finds a quiet place to be alone. He… doesn't like to talk to me when that happens."
It started making sense now. I entered the dormitory alone and found it empty except for one fourposter with the curtains drawn. I peeked behind the curtains to find a very gloomy Blaise looking back at me. I crawled into bed with him.
"Are you okay?"
He nodded, wiping his nose on a handkerchief.
I felt so strongly for him, and I knew I couldn't say anything in that moment to cheer him up, so I just lay there in the dark, holding his hand.
"Why doesn't he love me?" His voice was quiet but steady.
I said nothing but held his hand tighter. It was a long time later when I emerged. Draco was sitting on the floor, sipping on a bottle of fire whisky. We left the dormitory together. "What are you still doing here?"
"I want you to tell me something that is true."
I frowned, and leaned against a stone wall. Sobriety and scepticism were returning to me. "Why?"
"Because I think you're a liar."
"That is true. I am a liar."
He smirked at me, then followed me out of the common room.
