A/N: Here you go! Sorry it took a while.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, STILL! It's J.K. Rowling's only!
XI. Dancing lessons
We finished up our breakfast in silence and I changed into some appropriate robes before heading down to Narcissa's parlor for my first lesson. At the door, I stopped before knocking.
"Alright then, Malfoy," I used his last name to add some distance I so desperately needed after this morning's fight. "I'm here safe and sound, see you for an escort to lunch."
"Actually, I'll be joining you today," he knocked on the door before I could say anything, smirking at my shocked look.
"Come in!" came Narcissa's call. Draco opened the door, waiting for me to enter. I continued to look at him suspiciously as I entered the room.
"Good morning!" came Narcissa's greeting.
"Good morning," I replied, trying to hide my discomfort.
"I'm so looking forward to today's lesson! I loved dancing when I was your age."
"Dancing?" I asked, trepidation adding an edge to my voice.
"Why, Draco didn't tell you?" Narcissa asked, "He's joining our lesson so you can begin to learn the dances you'll need to know for the Parkinson Ball. Draco, why didn't you let her know?"
"Must've slipped my mind, Mother," he smiled politely, I sent him a nasty look. Pureblood culture was starting to look more and more similar to 19th Century Muggle culture: the balls, the different types of dances, the suitors, the etiquette.
"I'm afraid I don't dance," I admitted.
"But of course you do! If you can walk, you can dance," Narcissa said.
"No, really," I insisted, "I'm not being modest. You don't want to witness the disaster that would be me dancing. How about we just stick to teaching me table chat? That way I can mingle and not have to step on any toes on the dance floor."
"That's just not an option, my dear. Everyone in Pureblood culture dances. And your father's instructions were quite clear...," she said, meaning there was no real argument to be had. "I'm sure it's that you were just never properly taught."
"Oh no," I said quite bluntly, "I did Muggle tap and ballet when I was a little girl. There is a reason I quit." Draco snickered behind his hand, hiding his smile from his mother. I looked at him when his mother turned back to the huge gramaphone, sending him a fierce glare. He tried to give me an innocent look but failed miserably.
"Where should we start, Draco?" his mother asked him, "Something simple, perhaps?"
"Waltz?"
"Precisely. Standard, International, Cross step and Viennese?"
"That should cover it."
"And then, Polka, Varsoviana, Schottisch, Mazurka, Redowa?" Draco nodded in response.
"These sound like Muggle dances to me," I interrupted.
"The Muggles did adapt some to their liking, but you will learn the traditional Pureblood versions, of course," Narcissa insisted. "Alright now, into position." Narcissa fussed over the gramaphone as Draco came towards me.
"I assume you know enough about dancing to know where to put your hands," he drawled.
"If it's anything like the movies, yes," I said, continuing before he could ask what movies were, "But I'd sooner touch an angry Hippogriff than you," I added, still disgusted with him over this morning
"Well get over it, I'm what you've got," he said grabbing my left hand and pulling me towards him. I reluctantly put my other hand on his shoulder and he smiled smugly as he wrapped his arm around my waist.
We danced all morning. Between glares and snide comments I got all my pent-up frustration from the early morning fight out. I soon had to concentrate too hard on the complicated dance steps to be preoccupied any further with being rude to Draco. By the end of my lessons I had down the Standard and International Waltzs. I was okay at the Cross Step and really slow at the Viennese, which is apparently really quite fast. Instead of moving on to other dances, Draco suggested we review the traditional dance we learned for the Yule Ball during Fourth Year. Surprisingly it only took once through the steps for me to remember how it went. Draco danced with his mother to demonstrate each dance before we learned the steps. They were both elegant, flawless dancers. It was clear Narcissa adored her son, and Draco loved his mother dearly. I was a little jealous of both their dancing and their close relationship.
"Mother, we should stop, it's about lunch time," Draco, the level-headed time keeper that he was, had spared me from another dance. It was clear I was tired and hungry, I had started drooping in his arms and missing simple steps.
"Ah yes, of course," Narcissa stopped the gramaphone. "Well, done, Arabella. We've made great progress. Tomorrow we'll review what you've learned and move on." I thanked Narcissa and Draco and I left the room, heading towards the dining room for food.
"And you said you couldn't dance," Draco accused of me.
"I can't! Were you not counting the number of times I stepped on your feet, or had to stop because I got lost?"
"No, I wasn't," he replied honestly, "But you catch on a lot faster than most. I usually can't get through one dance, let alone four, when I'm trying to teach someone to dance."
"So you've done this before?"
"What? Been conned into being the dance partner for one of Mother's friends who needs help learning to dance? Yes. Too many times," he sounded a little exasperated.
"You are a lovely dancer," I complimented him as we reached the dining room. He nodded a thank you as he opened the door to the dining room.
I stepped in to the room and looked up, stopping in my tracks at the sight. Draco followed me in and, not expecting me to stop, walked right into me.
"Pansy? Blaise?" Draco exclaimed, surprised. "What are you two doing here?"
"We've come to visit, Drakey," Pansy replied, with a sickly sweetness to her voice.
"Your father invited us for lunch, said something about you two needing to see people your age more," Blaise filled in, standing up to shake Draco's hand, embracing him in a man-hug.
"Good to see you, mate," Draco said.
"Don't I get a hug, Drakey?" Pansy whined.
"Pansy...," Draco began.
"Bella," Blaise interrupted before things got too awkward, "Good to see you again."
"Blaise," I nodded and smiled. Of all of Draco's old Slytherin pals, Blaise was my personal favorite.
"It's Arabella, Blaise," Draco corrected.
"No, Bella is fine," I insisted
"Just not around your father, I know, I know," Blaise said. I gave Draco a significant look. If Blaise could make the effort to use my preferred name to my face, couldn't Draco?
"Pansy, you look well," I stated. Saying 'good to see you' or 'a pleasure as always' were just lies, so I punted.
"As always," she said vainly. I felt my fists tighten at my sides in displeasure at her, but before I could grind my teeth in frustration, Draco grabbed one of my hands, giving it a squeeze.
"Shall we eat?" Draco motioned towards the table. Blaise and Pansy turned, "Deep breaths, it'll be fine," he whispered in my ear and I nodded. "But behave yourself," he added before leading me to the table.
"Don't tell me what to do!" I whispered forcefully back, but he just ignored me.
We sat down to an elaborate, but light lunch, salads with grilled chicken, sandwiches and soup. The perfect summer meal, in my opinion. Perhaps only second to a BBQ or picnic. Cool lemonade and water quenched the thirst I'd built up dancing, and my purple mug with some Earl Grey tea appeared halfway through the meal to give me another boost for the rest of the day. I silently thanked Trinky for knowing me so well already.
"So Draco, Bella, what have you two been up to?" Blaise asked after we had started eating.
"Ari has begun lessons this week," Draco informed the others.
"Lessons?" he asked turning to me.
"Yes," I responded. "My father suddenly sees fit that I begin to learn about Pureblood etiquette, culture and history. The Malfoys are graciously taking care of that. Severus Snape has been appointed to teach me Occlumency and Father himself is doing private lessons with me as well."
"Wow, this is quite the endeavor," Blaise commented. "How's the etiquette and culture lessons? Interesting to mock or completely boring and useless?"
"Blaise...," Draco warned. I just laughed.
"I'm just saying, mate...," Blaise defended himself.
"Well Pureblood culture education is a time honored tradition," Pansy cut in, "And only some people are really capable of understanding and perfecting it. Only those with the purest blood." I sensed an insinuation and obviously Draco did too because he cut in quite quickly.
"Yes, Pansy, and I believe as an heir of Slytherin and the Dark Lord's daughter, Ari will excel," he defended me. She sniffed haughtily. There was a short silence before Blaise took a deep breath and plunged right into another conversation. That boy knew exactly how to keep tensions from running too high.
Blaise and Pansy updated us on what they'd been up to since graduation from the Dark-Lord-controlled Hogwarts. Blaise had been visiting various post-grad schools, wanting to go into Hit-Wizarding or Gringott's Code Breaking. Pansy had been touring France and Italy with her parents. Blaise and Draco talked about Quidditch for a half hour towards the end of the meal, Pansy rolling her eyes. I knew that look, it was the same look Hermione gave Ron and Harry when they started talking Quidditch two seconds before she pulled a book out of her robes to ignore them. Fortunately for me, I'd played as a Chaser at Hogwarts for a few years, so I was able to join in on the conversation (much to Pansy's dismay).
"Well, I should be getting Ari to her next lesson," Draco stood, putting his cloth napkin next to his plate. "It was good to see you both."
"Likewise," Blaise said. "We'll be around later in the week again, I'm sure." He winked. Draco nodded and I wondered what they were up to.
"Drakey, can I have a word?" Pansy practically begged. "Privately?"
Draco cleared his throat, "Perhaps once I escort Arabella to her next lesson."
"I think I can manage to get to your father's office just fine," I defended myself, "Go ahead and talk to Pansy."
"No, I'll escort you," he said, giving a nod to Pansy and Blaise.
"Good day to you both," I nodded to Blaise and Pansy, avoiding again saying that it was a pleasure to have Pansy around.
"Why can't I walk alone?" I asked Draco when we were out of earshot of the others, "Pansy obviously had something important to say."
"I already know what it is, and I don't want to hear it," Draco said bitterly.
"Oh?" I asked. He didn't elaborate. "So you are using me as an excuse to get away? A delay?"
"Partly. And also, you need a reminder," Draco said bluntly, stopping suddenly to look at me sternly halfway to his father's office. "Don't go mouthing off today."
"I know, I know," I said, looking down.
"Just—just behave okay? You know what is expected of you by everyone here."
"I don't need a lecture," I commented. "I'll be an angel." He gave me a skeptical look, "See my halo?" I said, using my hands to make a fake ring around my head.
"Only because it's held up by two little horns," he teased.
"Why, Draco Malfoy, I didn't realize you had a sense of humor!"
"You know I do," he commented.
"You tend to loose it around other people," I observed aloud.
"Other people expect things of me," he stated.
"And I do not?"
"No."
"How do you know?" I quizzed.
"You expect nothing from anyone," he observed.
I looked at him puzzled. I wasn't sure that was true, but had no response.
"I can be myself around you without fearing being disowned or rejected."
I instantly felt embarrassed and then ashamed. I had rejected him plenty of times. Rejected his affections, his advances, his sweetness. I looked down. He seemed to understand.
"No, not like that," he corrected. "You don't reject my personality because it's not what you envision me being."
"You are who you are," I shrugged, "No one can or should change that."
"Exactly," he whispered. We started walking again. I thought back to Sixth Year. I had found Draco crying in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, before the incident with Harry and the Half-Blood Prince's spell almost killing him. We weren't friends at the time, but linked only through my father's wants for us to be together and his new Dark Mark. I had heard him and walked in. He tried to cover his face, his tears, and his red, swollen eyes when he saw me. He was ashamed to cry. I had asked him what was wrong, but he just shook his head, not willing to share. I had looked at him, then and said the same thing I'd said many times to Ginny and Hermione (and yes, even Harry) during taxing conversations. "No judgement," I'd said. He'd looked up at me confused. "I won't judge you. I'll be a Big Fat Tree of No Judgement," I'd put my arms above my head as if I were a tree, "proverbially speaking, of course." He'd cracked a smile and then, a little less reluctantly, confessed to his stress, his exhaustion, his feeling of failure, without divulging any of the details of his mission for the year. Perhaps that's what he was referring to when he said I didn't reject him. I didn't judge him. Did the people that judge him reject him for who he really was? Did he have to hide parts of himself to be accepted by his family and friends?
When we reached the study door, my pondering was forced to the back of my mind. Draco turned and looked at me, "Remember...,"
"Halo," I interrupted, just pointing to an imaginary spot above my head. He nodded, brushing a kiss across my cheek before turning on his heel and heading back the way we came. I watched him go for a moment before raising my hand to knock on the large door in front of me.
"Come," was the response, just as it was yesterday. I stepped in and Lucius Malfoy was sitting behind his desk, "You're late," he responded.
"I apologize sir, lunch with Blaise and Pansy must have run late."
"Purebloods are never late," he said, sternly. I bit my tongue from making a snide comment. I couldn't tell if he was reminding me I had to be perfect, or reminding me I wasn't a Pureblood.
"Yes, sir," I nodded instead of arguing.
"Sit down," he said and I did so, "We'll begin where we left off yesterday." As I leaned back into the plush seat, my mind wandered away from the Pureblood history that Lucius was weaving for me. I sat and thought about what Draco had said, the memory from Sixth Year and what Pansy wanted to talk to Draco about.
"Miss Riddle?" I heard a voice, "Miss Riddle, are you listening?"
"Wha—Pardon?" I was pulled from my reverie.
"I asked you a question. In what year was Slytherin born, and in what year did he help establish Hogwarts?" I was being quizzed and unfortunately hadn't been listening.
"Born 957, established Hogwarts 1003," said a voice from behind me.
"I did not ask you, Draco," Lucius snarled towards the boy who was leaning against the door frame to the study.
"Well, it's time for Arabella's Occlumency lesson," Draco stated.
"Miss Riddle, I expect a roll of parchment on Salazar Slytherin for Friday," Lucius stated menacingly.
"Yes, sir," I nodded, getting up from my chair. I wanted to argue about how I'd done my time and graduated from Hogwarts and didn't want to do anymore homework, but I resisted by looking at Draco when I turned away from Lucius and mouthing "Halo!" He had significant trouble resisting the smile that threatened to spread across his face.
"I take it that lesson was significantly better than the last one?" Draco asked when we were out in the hall.
"Better, meaning I didn't insult anyone? Yes. Better, meaning it was a riveting, informative hour? No. I was bored, tuned out and now have homework," I practically whined.
"Well, if you need help with the essay, just let me know," he offered.
"It's not like it's for a grade or anything, right?" I shrugged it off.
"No, but when have you ever been able to knowingly do less than perfect?"
"Knowingly? Probably not ever."
"Case in point," he stated smugly, "I'll help you."
"I'll use the library first if I can get permission. Remind me to ask Father about it," I said before knocking on the door to my Occlumency lesson room.
"Remember to be angelic," he said after we heard Snape call me in.
"How could I forget?" I smiled mischievously. Draco just shook his head as I turned and entered the room.
There was a cauldron brewing the corner when I entered, filling the room with a haze that made it darker, almost ominous.
"Hello, sir," I greeted Snape, trying to pull him from his reverie, staring into the potion.
"Ah, Miss Riddle, yes," he gave the potion one last stir and then moved toward the desk. Opening a drawer he pulled out my lovely wand and handed it to me, "Shall we start?"
"What's the potion for?" I asked.
"Nothing of your concern," he said bluntly, "Now, prepare yourself."
I cleared my mind quickly, just before I heard him yell the curse I was so used to now. I protected myself from it easily, more easily than ever before.
"Good, good," he said and then yelled it again with no warning this time. I bounced the curse back at him and he was hit, unprepared. Suddenly I was in one of his memories. I could see Snape, much younger, but still a grown man. He was standing in the entrance hall to a very large house, a mansion almost. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a dim light on the room. The marble floors gleamed and the fresco elegantly painted above the chandelier made the room feel like a cathedral. There were footsteps on the huge staircase leading from the floor above down the center of the room. Snape and I both looked up as a young woman walked down the stairs, one hand on the railing, one hand holding her skirts up so she wouldn't trip.
"Severus," she said, as she approached, "What a pleasant surprise. I wasn't expecting company today." I looked closely at her as she came closer and embraced Snape. She had the same dirty blond hair that I did, only she'd had the patience to grow it out much longer. She had the same oval-shaped face and petit nose that marked my features, her bright green eyes sparkling.
"Ann Marie," Snape greeted her, confirming my suspicions as to who this woman was.
"What brings you here?"
"Is there somewhere we could talk?" he asked, "Privately?"
"Of course, let's go into the parlor," she waved to the left and I followed the pair into a large room, decorated in pale yellows and deep blues. The fire in the fireplace was dying, but with a wave of her wand, the woman named Ann Marie had it blazing again.
"What's troubling you?" she asked.
"You are," Snape revealed.
The woman laughed. Her laugh was musical, like bells tinkling along to their own tune. "Whatever do you mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean," Snape grounded his teeth. "You are playing with fire, and sooner or later you are going to get burned."
"What are you talking about?" she asked, feigning complete confusion
"I know," he whispered.
"Know what, Severus?"
"I know that you have come here to help the Order," Snape said.
"How could you accuse of me of such a thing?" she said angrily.
"Why else would a nice, loving girl like you agree to marry the Dark Lord?"
"Perhaps I'm in love with him, is that so hard to believe?" She stuck her chin in the air.
"Yes!" he said, quickly. It was followed by the musical laughter yet again.
"Severus," she settled down, "You sound exactly like you did when you found out Lily was dating Potter!"
"This is serious!" A frown sharpened his features. "I'm afraid for your safety."
"Severus, what would Tom say if he heard you talking like this? How would he feel if he knew one of his most trusted followers didn't trust him enough to treat his fiance the right way?"
"You won't tell him?" Snape said, fear lacing his voice.
"No, of course not," Ann Marie looked at him with a small smile. "This is a conversation between friends," she reached toward him, placing a reassuring hand on his arm.
"Then, as an old friend," Severus said severly, "I'm asking you to reconsider. To leave."
"Severus, I can't."
"Yes, you can. Your safety is at stake."
"I don't agree. He loves me. He won't harm me," she tried to sound reassuring, but her voice wavered as well.
"You are just as afraid as I am," Severus pointed out.
"I can't stop, Severus. I've learned so much already. I know I can help."
"But don't think for one second you can reform him. He is incapable of love," Snape said. She didn't respond, but was obviously fishing for words. "Aha! See, you did think you could change him. You can't, Ann Marie, just stop thinking that. You need to get out; you are way too involved."
"No, Severus," she said firmly, "This was my assignment and I will carry it out." Her voice dropped to a whisper, "The Order has been using some of the information I have gained and it is making a difference. We'll find a way to defeat him."
"Ann Marie..."
"END of conversation!" Silence followed. "Severus," she broke it, moving to embrace him, "I'm sorry. I just, I need to do this."
"Just don't get yourself hurt," he said gruffly.
"I won't," she smile, giving him a hug. A door slammed in the mansion somewhere as the memory was fading.
"He's coming. You should go..." Ann Marie ushered Snape from the room as I found myself back in the room in the Malfoy's Manor, looking at the older, present-day Snape seated across the table from me.
"You knew my mother?" I asked, my voice cracking.
"Yes," he answered, his voice soft. I hadn't expected him to, "She was my best friend at Hogwarts."
"She's your age and she married my dad?" I exclaimed.
"His method of ensuring his immortality prevented him from aging as quickly as others," Snape explained.
"And she was—"
"I think that's enough for today, Miss Riddle," he interrupted, his voice full volume again. I nodded my head, disappointed that I couldn't get my questions answered about my mother. Was she really a double agent for the Order? Was that why she married my father?
I turned and headed straight out the door. I turned towards my room only to practically collide with Antonin Dolohov.
"What are you doing, wandering the halls, Miss Riddle?" he asked gruffly, grabbing my arm and holding me in place.
"I just finished a lesson with Severus Snape, I was headed toward my room to retire for a while before my lesson with my father," I explained, a little irritated.
"Really? I think I should take you to your father now," Dolohov said.
"That won't be necessary," I replied. He ignored me, pulling me by my left arm toward the ballroom. "Really, Dolohov, please unhand me!" I stumbled but caught myself before I fell, he just pulled me along. When we came upon the ballroom he stopped, knocking loudly against the door. The door opened slightly to reveal Wormtail's mousy face, peering around to see who it was. He squeaked slightly and closed the door again. After a moment and a few muffled voices exchanged information inside, he opened it fully to let us in. Well, it was more like he opened the door to let Dolohov push me roughly in. I stumbled and shot him a glare across my shoulder.
"Dolohov," I heard my father's voice from across the room. Dolohov dragged me down the length of the room.
"My Master," he said, inclining his head. I looked in the shadows to see Draco and his father among the Death Eaters forming a circle around my father as they had in the graveyard the day he had been reborn. Draco shot me a glance.
"Arabella, come here, little one," my father motioned for me to come to him. I ripped my arm from Dolohov's grasp, sending him a look of disdain and walked over to my father, breaking through the ranks of the Death Eaters in their circle, though they did not dare move a muscle to make room for me to pass.
"My Lord, I found her lurking about the corridors," Dolohov explained.
"Lurking?" my father asked as if it were an interesting development.
"Yes, my Lord," Dolohov answered. I saw from the corner of my eye Draco look at me questioningly.
"Little one," my father addressed me, his eyes still lingering on Dolohov as he walked around the edge of the circle of his followers. "What were you doing when Dolohov ran into you this afternoon?"
"Severus dismissed me early from my lesson, so I was headed toward my room to rest a little before our lesson, Father," I said, my voice steady and completely honest for once.
"Ah, and, Dolohov, though my daughter is a guest in this house and was headed toward her quarters, you found her suspicious enough to grab and drag here?" he questioned, his voice calm, but the knowledge of his usual temper betrayed his steady calm.
"My Lord," Dolohov said, his voice trembling slightly, "I thought—"
"Ah, see, Dolohov, there is your problem," my father interrupted, raising his wand as he approached Dolohov, "I did not ask you to think...Crucio!" Dolohov was on the floor, writhing in pain, small grunts escaping his lips instead of the usual screams. After a few moments which stretched to feel like a lifetime, he released the curse. "Now stand, and take your place, but don't touch my daughter again." Dolohov didn't say a word, but stood and took his place, not glancing at anyone in the process.
"Arabella, you've been here once before, have you not? Though the numbers were quite diminished for so many doubted I'd return," my father said, still circling inside the ring of his followers. "We will continue this conference after my daughter's lesson, you may all leave." The Death Eaters bowed and walked through the double doors at the end of the hall. When the doors had closed, my father turned to me.
"How were your lessons today, my child?"
"Very interesting, actually," I said.
"Oh? Summarize it for me."
"I learned to waltz today. Lucius told me all about Salazar Slytherin and I successfully bounced a Legilimency curse off of myself."
"Very good, very good," a small smile spread across his face. "I do wish I had heard more about your first years at school, those first magical years when you were learning how all things magical work," he sounded regretful. "But now, we should get to your lesson."
"Father?" I interrupted his thoughts.
"Yes, my dear."
"I talked to Lucius about this, but I was wondering if you could tell me about the family history instead of Lucius doing so. And...could you tell me about my mother?" I asked timidly.
"Do you not think Lucius capable?"
"No!" I said suddenly, too quickly, "Not at all. I just, hoped that you could tell me about my family, you know, the way most parents tell their kids about their families."
"Perhaps," he said, turning towards his seat on the dais. "But today we will explore the use of Unforgivable Curses."
I swallowed the bile that rose in my throat at the thought.
"You learned what they were at school, I presume?"
"Yes, under Moody—well, Crouch acting as Moody—and then Carrow," I responded.
"And they are?"
I took a deep breath, "The Cruciatus, The Imperius, and the Killing Curse."
"Good, and you know the incantations for all?"
"Yes, but I won't say them," I said a little forcefully.
"Yes you will, Arabella," he said, "Or did you not learn your lesson about obeying my orders and living up to your surname yesterday?" I looked at my feet in response. "Do we need to do a little review?"
"No, sir."
"Then we'll start with something small," he said. I looked up at him fearfully, but stood my ground, Snape's lecture about possibly being able to help the wizarding world by gaining the trust of the Death Eaters playing again the back of my mind. I had vowed in my heart to never use an Unforgivable Curse unless it was for self defense. Would I be able to live with myself if I learned to use these curses without a second glance? "Some spiders, I think." He pulled a small jar from behind his seat, which held three medium-sized spiders in them. I breathed a small sigh of relief. It wasn't like I'd never killed a spider that had invaded a shower at the orphanage. And I could think of it as an act of community service to people like Ron who feared them most, right?
"You still have your wand from your lesson with Snape? Good. Then start with The Cruciatus, my dear."
A/N: Thank you so so much to my readers and reviewers. Please review again, I love to hear what you think.
A HUGE thank you to my friend Ellie, who has been a huge support, reading my story and offering advice and ideas, especially when it came to writing about Ann Marie.
I don't actually know the dates for Slytherin, does anyone else?
And thanks to my college buddies for being "trees of no judgement" for me as well. :D