Preparation, Introductions and Interesting Situations
"Champagne, and lots of it too." Blaise said as the family sat in the main drawing room of the manor, planning the party. It was practically 10 days before the party and the final touches were being put on plans and the guest list was being drawn up. Invitation designs and seating plans were strewn all over the floor surrounding the many study desks in the room. "I'm going to need it, as I watch my baby sister being pulled about the dance floor by sleazy Slytherin snakes. I would like to think Draco would agree with me." He said as he pinched his nose and rubbed his temple. He did this in a vain attempt to get rid of the headache that was forming.
It was the night before the big event and within the household was several very frantic women and their friends and significant others standing in the entrance hall, having no clue what to do. The men just stood there as they watched what was meant to be a form of organised chaos turn into a last minute jostle of limbs and screams.
The exterior walls of the mansion were charmed to light cream, eggshell colour with Ivy vines threading their way up to the roof. It looked hauntingly beautiful, as the light of the moon illuminated it. No expense and effort had been spared to decorate both the interior and exterior of the manor. Even the gardens were lit up with fairies flying about. Heavy black pots held in them lush eucalypts and a variety of elms and birches. The rose bushes were thorn free and magically pruned to perfection. The back gardens were littered with torches that lit up the night sky like fireflies, strategically placed so that the vast grounds were bathed in a soft, caress of light.
From the main patio that lead to the back gardens, broad, shallow steps led to another entertaining area from which a path sprouted. This path led down to the left side of the house where a glittering crystal blue pool took its residence. On the right side of the mansion lay a moderately sized Quidditch pitch complete with floating hoops as goals. The pitch was, much like the front garden, a manicured patch of green grass.
Guests started to trickle in, and soon the ballroom and foyer was filled with top notch wizarding pureblood families. All of which were waiting patiently to be introduced to the newest member of the Zabini line. Pavo and Anatalia stood on a conjured podium placed in the centre of the grand staircase. Pavo cast a sonorous charm on himself and began the night. A long night, it was proving to be.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it's an honour for you to be here tonight. As you very well know, we have invited you here to introduce our long lost daughter into wizarding high society." Pavo declared. Whispers went around the room like wildfire, only put to a stop by Anatalia who cleared her throat loudly. She turned behind her and almost like a herd of cattle, the crowds' heads turned in the same direction almost simultaneously.
There, at the top of the stairs stood Blaise, in an immaculate black suit. Next to him, holding on to him for dear life was Hermione. She was dressed in that same dress Draco had picked out for her only two weeks ago. "And here they are, our son Blaise Pietro Zabini and his younger sister. Hermione Maria Zabini." Their mother announced, indicating they should start the descent.
As she and her brother walked down the stair, it became aware to her that all the eyes of the eligible bachelors were watching her every move. The dress she wore was classy yet simple, but blatantly sexy without making her look like a cheap slag. As she walked down, the highly placed slit on the dress exposed her tanned and toned thigh. Her back was left bare, except of the fabric that covered her lower back and flowing gracefully to the floor, by the form fitting garment. A breeze swept through the mansion just as they reached the podium, moulding the fabric to her body.
It was only a matter of thirty minutes later that the party was in full swing and the young hostess was walking around with her brother meeting the young witches and wizards and their parents. It was only a matter of time until they had bumped into the Parkinsons.
"Gr-Zabini" Pansy corrected her slip "How are you today?" she asked in a scarily friendly tone. Hermione, for a moment confounded, stared at the short brunette with a look of puzzlement marring her beautiful features.
"It's Hermione, Pansy." She corrected the girl "I've been as good as one could be, when one finds out she is indeed a pureblood." She stated, always one for political correctness. She was rewarded a small tilt of the mouth, which could have been construed as an attempt of a smile. They nodded at each other, coming to a silent agreement. "I hear you have a sister, would I have the fortune to meet her?" she asked.
"Merlin only knows where that old woman is." Pansy said as she searched the crowds for her sister.
"Why thank you, dear sister, for singing praises about me in my absence." A velvety voice drawled behind Pansy, "I'm only a couple of months older, hardly an old woman by anyone's standards." The sisters playfully glared at each other before turning back to their audience. "Amara Rose Parkinson. Pleasure to meet you Hermione. Dashing as ever Blaise." She extended her hand towards Hermione, who took it and gently shook it.
"I suggest, that we must get to know each other. He-" she paused to pointed her head discretely to her brother "is a tethered wizard. Or at least, he would be, if he made the move already." Hermione said laughing at the hurt and indignant expression written on Blaise's face.
"Is that Theo I see, making his way over here?" Blaise said trying to crawl out of the embarrassing situation. He realised he couldn't when his sister pulled him back to her as he walked away. "Nice try, brother dearest." She whispered. "Theo, how lovely of you to join us."
They young man joined the small group as he place a greeting kiss on Hermione's cheek. He registered that Pansy was there but raised an eyebrow in question as to who the other brunette beauty was. No one answered his silent question until; "Since not even my wonderful baby sister doesn't feel like introducing me." she said stepping forward. "Amara Rose Parkinson. Enchanted."
Theodore Nott, for almost a second, –although he would deny it later- was speechless at her bluntness. He eyed the girl up and down with an appraising look. "Pleasure." He said in his deep drawl. Before he could say anything else the young brunette lady had been whisked off by a seemingly familiar figure.
A slow waltz began to play just as Hermione and Blaise finished speaking with their last guest. Then came a soft tap on her shoulder, turning around she saw Draco with his arm extended and palm faced upwards. "Would, young Lady Zabini mind if I have this dance?' he asked, she smiled at his formal antics and nodded her ascension.
As they arrived on the dance floor, he spun her around and retrieved her draping his arm around her waist. This action left little to no space between them, her chin was able to lean against his shoulder and his nose was nestled in her hair. His hand was splayed possessively on her lower back where naked skin met with the silken fabric of her dress. It almost looked like second nature; like that nothing else in the room could possibly distract them from each other. The crowd that had gathered around the dancing couple stood in a quiet awe, not willing to break the magical atmosphere.
The rest of the guests had found their way onto the patio and back gardens. Theodore made his way out onto the patio, the cool wind hitting his face, and grabbed for a glass of champagne as a waiter passed by him. He socialised, small useless talk with the big names in pureblood society. Just as he was ending a conversation with the minister of magic, something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.
Beside the illuminated pool stood a vision of white, contrasting very much with the crystal blue of the pool. The moonlight on the gown made her look almost angelic, like a beacon of innocent light in the darkness. She made no move to catch his eye, but just stood there motionless enraptured with the pool and its surroundings.
The minister paused in his ramblings to see what had caught the attention of the man he was holding a conversation with, a laugh of an understanding nature rumbled from his chest. "We'll continue this conversation at a later date, Mr Nott." He said inclining his head in her direction "I hear Ms Parkinson over the there is a spitfire, you have your work cut out for you."
He thanked the minister and walked towards the angel. As he did so, she walked forward towards the large statue of 'The Thinker' and placed her delicate arm on the base of it, where it met a hand carved intricate handrail. As he drew nearer and nearer he realised that her chocolate brown hair was pulled back in a elegantly delicate ponytail, wisps of hair caressing bare shoulders. On her left ear were two skilfully placed yellow Frangipani blossoms, but dangling from both were dainty teardrop shaped diamonds, 4 carats he hazarded.
He hadn't noticed nor compared the shade of her skin to that of her sister's. Now that he realised, her complexion was more sun kissed than Pansy's. By this time he had reached the opposite side of the statue, that's when he heard her voice clear through the musky air. "So, you found me." Her sensual yet aristocratic drawl intoned, "What is it that I can do for you?"
"Let's dance" he whispered into her ear. So intimate. So authoritative, as if he already knew she would agree. She stood stock still; her only response was to stare blankly at the gardens. A moment later she turned to him as she brought the champagne glass to her lips. Looking over the rim of her glass at him, she downed the liquid in one liberal sip.
"And what makes you think I'll allow you push me around the dance floor willingly?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "I don't take too well to being told what to do."
He paused to think of his next words, "It would be my utmost pleasure if you, Miss Parkinson, would take this next dance with me." His hand extended out in invitation. For the first time, he was afraid of rejection, worried that he had made a preposterous mistake. Although, his doubts, insecurities and nervousness was abated when he felt her soft hand in his.
"Just this one dance." She said beseechingly "I would like to dance with all the others here at the Ball, tonight." They re-entered the grandly decorated ballroom together, the dance floor filled with dancing couples. As they reached it, he swung her gracefully outwards then pulled her into his arms. His left hand found her right, and his right arm snaked around her waist. They danced for several songs before she was requested by none other than Marcus Flint. However, the couple were completely unaware that Pansy Parkinson had been keeping an eye on the goings on, she wasn't one to lose. Insanely jealous of her sister and the male affections she received, Pansy began planning. She would either have Theo or Marcus, if Amara liked it or not.
The night wore on in a blur of dances, toasts and congratulations. It was only after a long and rather interesting eight hours did 95 per cent of the guests leave. This left Harry, Ron, Ginny, Blaise, Hermione, Draco, Pansy, Theo, Luna and lastly Amara. Their parents or subsequent guardians thought it ill advised for the young adults to return back to their respective houses, so for the night and following day they were to stay within the Zabini manor and grounds.