Act 3, Scene 3
Malfoy Manor. September 23, 2002. 7:30 pm.
Narcissa Malfoy cut an imposing figure. The woman as all angles and sharp edges, the most prominent of which was her hooked nose.
At the moment, though, Ginny felt it was Mrs. Malfoy's eyes that could cut straight clean through her. The older woman's eyes had not moved in the last twenty minutes or so, when Draco had excused himself to go fetch Blaise "as a witness". Blaise was right - Malfoy was a damn little coward.
Before he'd Disapparated, he'd offered a basic summary of their situation - "Ball, two days - Weasley - ruse - pass off as member of pureblood society - not what you think, I swear - please don't, Mother - Weasley, stay for a minute, I'll be back - Blaise will explain better!"
They had been sitting there in silence broken only by Narcissa's quiet sips at the tea she'd commanded Milly to make and bring ten minutes ago. Ginny, for her part, didn't dare move.
In the few moments Narcissa looked away or down at her cup, Ginny observed Draco's mom with curious eyes. She'd always heard of Mrs. Malfoy as this spiteful, hateful rich woman from her own mother - and no doubt Molly had gotten the snobbery correct, but the Narcissa she'd briefly seen during the Greengrasses' unannounced visit was also lively and biting, traits that Ginny most admired in women, including her own mother.
The light and very intentional sound of a throat clearing interrupted Ginny's thoughts.
"Gustave or Merriman's?"
Ginny looked up, startled. Narcissa hadn't moved, except to settle her teacup on the glass table between them, but her arched platinum eyebrows indicated she was awaiting an answer.
"Um, sorry, what?"
Narcissa harrumphed and folded her hands in her lap, leaning back to appraise Ginny with critical eyes. "Yes, that's something that they wouldn't have been able to teach you." She rolled her eyes at Ginny's blank expression, explaining, "Designers, dear, they're the top Wizarding designers right now."
"Right," Ginny responded automatically, eyes glancing about as she wondered if she was being pranked right now.
Narcissa's blue eyes turned steely. "Apparently, they haven't been able to teach you common courtesy, either. Sit up straight, Miss Weasley, and try to betray your low-bred genes for a moment and avoid the silly interjections."
Ginny felt the indignance in her cheeks before she reflexively opened her mouth, "How dare-"
Narcissa's smirk only grew, and Ginny shut her mouth as she realized the mistress of the Malfoy estate was goading her. Defy their expectations, Draco's commanding voice filtered through her ears, you're better than they are. Act like it.
And, after counting from ten backwards, Ginny could imagine Narcissa was Draco, and this was just another test, so she rolled her shoulders back, straightened her back, and uncrossed her legs. Tilting her head slightly in polite deference but keeping her eyes at the same level as Narcissa's, Ginny pursed her lips before smoothing them into a small smile. "My apologies, Mrs. Malfoy. It's been a long day, but that's no excuse."
Narcissa's eyes narrowed and her smirk molded back into an inscrutable expression as she picked up her teacup again. Ginny, enjoying that she'd rendered the society matron speechless for a moment, waited a beat before firing back, "Gessen or Wang?"
Narcissa's expression registered confusion for a moment, short enough that Ginny would have missed it had she not been searching for a reaction.
Smoothly, without missing a beat, Ginny tilted her head to the right, as if in surprise that Narcissa didn't know what she was talking about. Another second of tension, and then Ginny could not resist letting a swell of sarcasm slip into her voice, "No recent forays into literature?"
The older witch's nostrils flared - the way Draco's did around Damien Greengrass, Ginny noted absently - before she spoke, "It's beneath me to read Muggles' work, Miss Prewett."
Ginny suppressed a grin. "Oh? But they're both wizards! Perhaps you simply don't read authors from beyond England and France. I'd recommend against limiting yourself so." Unable to resist, she leaned forward conspiratorially before setting her jaw and delivering the final punchline in a low voice. "Don't mistake a lack of wealth for a lack of culture, Mrs. Malfoy."
Narcissa remained motionless, except for her hands tightening around her cup. Ginny wondered vaguely if she was about to be Avada'd, and then decided she didn't care. Shutting up Narcissa Malfoy wasn't a half-bad way to go. Her mother would probably give a solid eulogy at her funeral.
Before any green light zapped towards her, however, there was a pop! And Draco materialized in front of them, hair askew and face dusted with pink.
Ginny could swear she heard him mutter something along the lines of "thank Merlin the place isn't blown up" as he collapsed into the other armchair next to her, across from Narcissa's couch.
"Blaise and his date had already left the restaurant," he offered by way of explanation for his apparently futile mission.
Ginny's heart inadvertently skipped a beat at the mention of Blaise and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at herself; she'd offended Narcissa enough for one evening. She'd examine these weird, conflicting reactions to Blaise later. Or stifle the issue deep down until she spontaneously combusted. Yeah, that sounded easier.
Narcissa looked at the odd pair sitting across her: Draco, slouched with rumpled robes, but still elegant in that Malfoy way with his long legs and porcelain skin and the youngest Weasley, perfect posture and glowing with the type of beauty that was derived only from youthful spirit and had become increasingly rare in these circles. However, even her clear skin and fiery spirit couldn't disguise the uncertainty and belligerence just below the remarkable surface. And, oh dear, the clothes! Malfoy Manor would never have seen a woman in Muggle jeans, let alone ripped ones, if Narcissa had still been screening the visitor list. As it was, however...
Narcissa looked at her son, who steadily avoided her gaze and looking anywhere in the vicinity of Miss Weasley. When he was a teenager, she'd caught him more than once in the sitting room or on the grounds with a family friend's or business associate's daughter, pink ears, and a self-satisfied smirk, but those moments no longer occurred. After a while, Narcissa had realized it wasn't simply because Draco had become more covert; he simply didn't engage in such dalliances anymore. Worried that Draco was perhaps drawing too much into himself after Lucius's imprisonment and Blaise's move abroad after the War, she had encouraged - alright, forced - him to go on a few outings with young ladies like Miss Parkinson, Miss Delacour, even the Greengrass sisters. But all that had resulted in was a couple Howlers at the Manor, and soon Narcissa realized that such things didn't interest Draco anymore. Oh well, she'd mused to herself in the absence of any people she could tolerate, he was young, and it was good for him to focus on business instead of sex. Draco had become more and more introverted, but not depressed, and so Narcissa resisted from saying anything.
Perhaps it was because she was so used to saying nothing that she didn't quite know what to say now. She had never seen Draco in such an intimate moment as when she'd caught him in the girl's embrace earlier, not even when she'd caught him with a hand up Daphne Greengrass's dress once.
For now, she squared her gaze on her idiot son. "No need to sit, Draco. Remember your manners and show Miss Weasley out."
Draco's nervous silver gaze met hers before he nodded and rose abruptly. "Come on," he called behind him as he strode out of the room.
"Excuse his antics." Narcissa directed towards a bewildered Ginny, before giving her one last glance-over. "Although I suppose you might be used to them by now. It was certainly something to meet you, Miss Weasley. I'm sure we'll see one another again, but I'll tell you now." She smirked at the younger witch, hesitant now even for all her bravado earlier. Gryffindors. "Pay attention to the world around you, and free your mind of prejudices. They're not the same as mine, but you, like everyone, still have them."
Ginny arched an eyebrow, not in impertinence, but in confusion. "Is this your way of telling me to read more fashion magazines?"
Narcissa snorted. "Among other things."
Draco grumbled something from the hallway, and Ginny smiled (or maybe grimaced - unclear which) at Narcissa before rushing after him.
Draco stood in the foyer, close to the restricted Apparition point that now he, Narcissa, Blaise, Milly, and Ginny only had access to. He frowned at her, with worry lines creasing his forehead. "Was everything okay?"
"I think so," Ginny whispered slowly, head still hurting from trying to comprehend her interaction with the Malfoy matriarch. "Oh, before I forget, I have something planned for us tomorrow. Be ready at ten, okay?"
"Us?" was all Draco managed, as his ears turned one shade pinker.
Ginny didn't notice. "Yes, yes, I know ten's early, but no excuses. That's when I'll pick you up, alright, be ready!" And then she was gone, and Draco was still reeling.
"You've done quite a job with that young lady," Narcissa said quietly behind him. She'd entered the foyer without being seen or heard by him or Ginny.
"Yes, well," Draco muttered as his cheeks heated up, "you can't manufacture that."