Hello Dear Readers! Here it is the long awaited ball chapter. I hope you enjoy!
During the next month Rose's schoolwork ebbed and flowed at a more regular pace, only picking up again when midterms approached. She didn't mind though. Sure the work was difficult and it stressed her out to no end, but there was still something about tackling a task and accomplishing it that gave Rose an overwhelming feeling of self-satisfaction. She liked being busy, and she had grown to be almost thankful for Scorpius' cold shoulder. There was no way she would have been able to juggle schoolwork, a social life, and sleep (not to mention the extra reading assigned to her by Ms. Blackwater) with him stealing her away in the night. However, she still found her eyes wandering to him whenever he was within her visual range, searching his face hoping for a moment when their eyes would lock. She was almost thankful they didn't, almost, but not quite.
On a Friday in mid March, Rose sat in the castle's art studio attempting to focus on critique. Most of the time she would anxiously wait for the class to address her work on the wall, but that day her mind was focused on other things. In just one hour she would rush downstairs to her dorm in order to get pampered and pretty for the ball that night. Then, at seven o'clock, she would meet Lysander Scamander, her escort, on the steps just outside the castle's main entrance.
After the grueling hour passed, Professor Blanche dismissed the class as he always did claiming, "You all need to push the envelope more! I expect better next time!"
Rose unpinned her picture from the wall so quickly she almost tore the silver gelatin print that had taken her ages to develop. She swore at herself for not being more careful before dashing out of the classroom and down the hall.
As she bolted down the hallway, she attempted to slip all of her materials into her knapsack. She had finally gotten everything to slide in and was about to look up when she slammed into another body moving just as fast as she was. Her bag and all the papers she had just battled to get in it scattered across the hallway along with those belonging to the other student.
She looked up to see who was the poor unfortunate soul victimized by her haste, only to see the piercing gray eyes of a certain Slytherin boy.
"Scorpius," she exhaled, finding herself painfully frozen. All she could focus on was how intriguing his hair looked as it caught the crimson light of the setting sun.
His eyes darted from their far off lost gaze to Rose's expectant blue orbs.
"S-sorry," he stammered. He leaned down to pick up their things, pushing them into two haphazard piles. His movements reminded her of a skittish field mouse, far from his normal majestic and confident gait. He stuffed one of the piles into his messenger bag.
He picked up the other pile and shoved it into her hands before running off down the hallway.
Rose stood there dumbfounded for a moment. That was the first time Scorpius had acknowledged her existence in almost three months. She didn't know what she expected their first encounter in such a long time to entail, but it definitely was not what had just transpired.
She walked over to a nearby window ledge and began to reorganize her papers. It was then that she realized something was missing. She rifled around her empty knapsack frantically before searching through her folders once more. As she felt her way through numerous pages of rough parchment, her fingers came across a smooth glossy surface. Her body began to relax once more, until she saw that it was not the print that had taken her six hours of shooting and another exurbanite amount of time to enchant and develop. Instead it was presumably a page from a large calendar with the words MARCH printed in bold across the top. Rose noted astrological symbols adorning the upper right hand corner of each day, along with the phases of the moon occupying the lower left. Someone had drawn a large red box around the phase for that day, March 18th.
"Shit!" she swore louder than she had intended, drawing unwanted glances from the surrounding students. Scorpius must have accidently swapped the two similarly textured papers. Professor Blanche may have claimed her photo was trite and unworthy of her portfolio, but she was still fond of the image and was planning on giving it to her father as a belated birthday present.
Well, at least now she would have a more legitimate reason to speak with Scorpius tonight.
When Rose entered her dorm she was happy to find her roommates were not there. The last thing she needed to do was explain to them why she was getting dressed up on the same night as the Malfoy's ball. It wasn't that she didn't already have an excuse planned already; she just didn't like lying to more people then was necessary. That was why neither her family nor Nemo knew that she wasn't going to be at the castle that night. She decided it would be best to keep her friend in the dark until after the party, knowing full well that he would not approve. If they asked, Victoria invited her to a formal Ministry dinner in order for her to start networking.
She took a quick shower before getting dressed. Still wrapped in a towel she pulled out her suitcase from under the bed. She dug through her clothing to the bottom of the trunk where her underwear was safely hidden. She knew exactly what she was going to wear: her lacy black strapless bra with the matching thong. Sure it seemed like her choice was based on what she thought would happen between her and Scorpius that night, but she convinced herself that the sole reason she made this selection of lingerie was for her own self empowerment. Knowing that she had sexy underwear on made her feel sexy and confident. It didn't matter who, if anyone else, saw what she had on underneath her dress.
After slipping into her underwear, she grabbed a potion bottle and her makeup bag out of her suitcase before heading back into the bathroom. Rose and Helena decided that it would be a good idea for her to temporarily dye her hair a different color. Not many people at Hogwarts aside from the Weasley-Potters had red hair, and they both agreed she would definitely stand out.
Rose worked the potion into her hair and within a matter of seconds, her long wavy auburn tresses transformed into straight dirty blonde locks. She proceed to pull the front half of her new hair back with the ornate emerald green fleur-de-lis clip; the one Aunt Fleur had gifted her for her 16th birthday. Surprisingly, Rose found that the new do was very flattering to her facial features and made her electric blue eyes stand out even more. Even so, she missed her wavy red mane and she was thankful the potion would only last six to seven hours.
She proceeded to dust her eyelids with a rusty brown eye shadow before applying black eyeliner, thick line on the top, thin line on the bottom. She then put a dash of pink on her cheeks and finished her look with light red lip-gloss.
Rose didn't normally wear make up aside from the occasional eyeliner when she was feeling particularly girly, but she found the process fun and exciting.
When she was satisfied with her hair and make up, she went back into her room and shimmied into her dress. Next she carefully slipped the black half-mask Helena had gotten for her over her eyes, taking care not to muss her hair. She then took up her hazel wand and slipped it, along with her make up, inside her black sequined handbag before throwing a light black shawl over her shoulders and heading out the door.
It was seven o'clock when she met Lysander just outside the castle doors. He was adorned in black dress robes with a green tie that she was sure Helena had forced him to wear.
Although her parents had always been fond of Lysander's mother, none of the Weasley children had gotten along with the Scamander twins. Lorcan, a Ravenclaw, was an intellectual but had hermit-like tendencies, and Lysander, the oddball of the family, was concerned much more with status and wealth then mental growth and friendship. The only reason he had agreed to take Rose to the masquerade was because Helena promised to get him a job at her father's firm once they graduated. Rose also figured that he wanted to get on Rose's good side because the Weasley-Potters were one of the most influential clans in the wizarding world.
"Good evening, Rose," Lysander greeted, taking her hand and raising it up to his lips. The gesture reminded her of Scorpius, but didn't affect the same adrenaline rush. She knew Lysander was just tying to be a gentleman, but she couldn't forget the ridiculous and degrading historical implications of his actions. She inadvertently snatched her hand away.
"Let's get this show on the road," she commanded with more malice than she had intended. Now that she was with Lysander, her nerves were kicking into high gear; her stomach knotted into complicated patterns. If they didn't leave soon, she would call the whole thing off.
Fortunately, Lysander seemed to get the message without appearing to be offended. They headed down the path to the castle gates, and once the crossed the magical threshold, Rose took Lysander's arm as they apperated to Malfoy Manor.
"Wow," was the first word Rose uttered when she and Lysander touched ground once more. The two were standing in front of a beautiful and imposing wrought iron gate. Its arms had been swung open in welcome to the night's guests, but the effect was more intimidating than warm. Rose's eyes followed the gravel pathway to the large white mansion doors that a convoy of bedazzled and masked guests were filing through.
Despite the money that Rose's parents had incurred from their famed endeavors in the wizarding world, the Weasley's were of the humble and modest variety. Rose had never experienced such a grand display of wealth and prosperity.
"Here we are, Malfoy Manor," Lysander sneered.
"I knew the Malfoy's were rich, but this is ridiculous," Rose commented.
"Yeah. Funny how the most hated family in the wizarding world is still sitting pretty," Lysander commented; his eyes narrowed. Rose could pick up on the envy in his voice. "Well, we're here now, so let's do this thing. Who are you supposed to be again?"
"Belle Sang-Bleu. I'm eh Beauxbatons girl," Rose confidently stated in a pseudo-French accent, another product of her planning with Helena.
"Beautiful Blue-Blood? That's the name you choose?" Lysander raised an eyebrow.
"Hey, I figured if I'm going to take on a fake personality, I might as well have fun with it," Rose shrugged.
"Well, I hope for your sake that not very many people at the party speak French."
Lysander held out his elbow for Rose, and she linked her arm around his before the couple joined the throng of people heading towards the house.
When it finally came Rose's and Lysander's turn to be scrutinized by the burly butler who guarded over the guest list, Rose's nerves were on edge. It wasn't until the butler's dark and judging eyes scanned over Rose's body that she realized how dire the consequences could be if her charade was discovered. Rose began to pick apart all the hideously apparent flaws in her "perfect" plan, knowing that Murphy's Law was almost always infallible. 'What if he knows I'm not who I say I am? What if he's French and realizes I'm faking it? The Malfoys know they have many enemies; they must have taken extra magical measure to monitor guests…and party crashers.'
"Lysander Scamander," Lysander informed the beady-eyed man. "And this is my plus one," he gestured to Rose.
"Name," the butler intoned.
"Belle Sang-Bleu," Rose stated in her accent, pulling off a convincing smile despite her racing heart.
The butler wrote her name down in his book. His face contorted in confusion and Rose's heart stopped. He then muttered, "Must be a French thing," and gestured to the door, allowing the couple entrance.
Once Rose crossed the threshold she sighed in relief, only to remind herself that she could still be discovered at any minute. She had just gotten past the first obstacle, but she wasn't in the clear yet.
Lysander led Rose over to the right where the banquet tables were. Laid before them on a velvet maroon tablecloth was a lavish array of cheeses, meats, vegetables, and other finger foods that, although unidentifiable to Rose, appeared extremely appetizing.
As Lysander began to load up his plate, Rose took the chance to absorb her surroundings.
It was as if she had stepped right into one of the Victorian era "chick flicks" that her mother loved and her father couldn't stand. The main foyer was a large airy room with a high stained glass ceiling. A large glass chandelier that suspended free of any support cast a warm light over the entire room. Areas that would have been cast in shadow were lighted by small gold candelabras hanging on the dark grey stonewalls. Right across from the main entrance was the main focal point of the room: a grandiose staircase that, after reaching the first landing, branched off in two directions. In the very center of the staircase was a towering portrait of the Malfoy family that reminded Rose of the royal portraits she had seen when her Aunt Fleur took her to Versailles. An orchestral band was positioned to the left of the staircase. Small tables surrounded by petite chairs clothed in green and silver dotted the edges of room. The guests aimlessly wandered around the room, greeting old friends, introducing themselves to new people, and most importantly, upholding their reputations. The men mainly wore black dress robes with colored accents, while the women adorned extravagant dresses. It seemed they had all favored black or deep and richer shades of color over pastels and white. One aspect of dress that both the men and women had in common was the elaborate detail of their fantastical masks. It was all so incredibly romantic.
She searched the crowd for the shock of white hair and cold gray eyes that was Scorpius Malfoy, but the only man of that description she found was a man her parent's age: Mr. Malfoy. Although a woman, whom Rose presumed to be Mrs. Malfoy, was close to her husband's side, their son was nowhere in sight.
"Merde," Rose muttered under her breath.
"Can't find him?" Lysander, who was now standing at Rose's side with a plate in hand, asked.
"No," Rose sighed.
"Well, the night is still young. Maybe he's in the sitting room," Lysander announced. He hooked his arm around Rose's and led her into an adjoining room. There was an immense walk-in fireplace against the far wall. Various expensive looking knick-knacks and family pictures inhabited the mantle. There were two large black leather sofas facing each other, with a stocky cherry coffee table between them. This appeared to be the room where all the younger guests had retreated.
"Lysander! You made it!" Nicholas Zabini greeted, his arm extended.
The boys high-fived. Zabini then turned his attention to Rose. She held her breath. Would he recognize her?
"Whose the babe?" he asked his eye trailing up and down her body.
Rose wanted to slap him, but she couldn't blow her cover. Instead she mustered all her power to beam at him flirtatiously. "Je m'appelle Belle," she began in her phony accent. "I attend Beauxbatons. You've 'eard of it, no?"
"Of course," Zabini answered shooting her a crooked toothy grin that made Rose internally cringe. "I'm Nicholas Zabini. My father owns Chastity's Sin. You've heard of it, no?" he teased.
How could she forget the chain of witches' lingerie stores? She had received a catalog from them a year ago, which she promptly threw away. A month later she found it peeking out of her brother's mattress whilst searching for her stolen wand. She had not known that Nicholas' father was the owner of this store, but this newfound information made him even more disgusting in her eyes.
"Ah, oui. I adore shopping there!" she smiled, despite her gut feeling that when Nicholas went to bed that night he would be fantasizing about her in his father's underwear. She inwardly shuddered at the thought before trilling "Enchanté." She held out her hand to shake his. Instead Nicholas lifted it to his lips and planted a sloppy wet kiss.
"Hey back off," Lysander warned, gripping Rose's arm tighter. Whether he had sensed Rose's distress or didn't appreciate Nicholas touching his 'goods,' Rose did not know. She hoped it was the former, but was thankful nonetheless.
"I see you have a new slag," a girl with a high pitched nasally voice who had been sitting next to Nicholas chimed in.
The girl stood up and took a step towards them. Based on the apparent difficulty she had in performing this simple task and the bottle of fire whiskey clutched in her manicured hand, Rose deduced that the girl was plastered…and the night was still young.
"Hello Paxton," Lysander greeted, although he sounded less than pleased to see her.
"Isn't that nice. You found yourself a big titted blonde bint," she squawked.
It took all of Rose's power to keep her mouth from dropping. She wanted to hex this girl half way to Thursday, but instead took a deep breath to calm herself. She wasn't sure how to react, so she decided to play dumb.
"Excusez-moi?" Rose asked in an earnest voice.
"Don't you dare insult Belle like that," Lysander came to Rose's defense. "At least she knows the difference between blow dry and blow job."
Although it wasn't the best defense of honor in the world, Rose still chuckled. Paxton glared.
"So how did you two become acquainted?" Paxton asked accentuating the last word. "The brothel house?"
Now it was Rose's turns to talk. She could play this game as well.
"Both of our families vacationed in ze Alps during ze 'olidays. We shared in one magnificent night of passionate lovemaking. He moves me more deeply than any other man," Rose's alias confessed. 'Merlin, this is so degrading,' she thought to herself.
Paxton looked at her suspiciously.
"It seems a night with 'im is exactly what you need to loosen your tight—what do you English call it? Twat?" Rose commented, a smile, the first genuine one of the night, beaming across her face.
Paxton's mouth dropped as she let out a "uh!" of disbelief. Lysander practically doubled over in laughter, while Nicholas stood there helplessly, unsure whether he should laugh or try to comfort his new girlfriend.
Paxton glared at Rose with intense hatred before she stormed out of the room drunkenly, with Zabini trailing behind her.
As soon as Paxton and Nicholas left, Helena entered. Rose felt her teeth unclench at the sight of a familiar face.
"Lysander!" she beamed. "I'm so glad you came!" She strode over and hugged him, Rose could see that Lysander was perplexed by her behavior. "And who is this?" she turned to Rose, although from the glint in her eye she had already answered her own question.
"My name iz Belle," Rose introduced her alias.
"Enchante," Belle smiled.
"Now, where iz zis Scorpius you mentioned?" Rose turned to Lysander, hoping that maybe Helena could answer the question.
Lysander shrugged his shoulder as Rose had expected, but Helena piped up.
"I haven't seen him at all tonight actually," she answered, her face riddled with worry at the mention of her friend.
"Probably wants to piss off his old man," Lysander laughed. Helena gave him a warning glance.
'Well this is perfect!' Rose thought to herself.
"Oh, tres mal. I very much wanted to meet 'im," Rose commented, although she shared a genuine concerned look with Helena.
Lysander, Rose, and Helena joined the other teenagers on the couches. Rose pretended to listen intently to their banter, but focused all of her attention to the outer room in hopes of seeing Scorpius. It was getting late, and the older guests were starting to leave.
"'elena, could you escort me to la toilette?" Rose leaned into her friend.
"Of course, darling," Helena answered.
Helena and Rose ducked down a fairly abandoned hallway and into a large but unoccupied bathroom. When Rose was sure they were alone she began.
"I need to find Scorpius," Rose insisted, ditching her fake accent.
"I know, I know," Helena agreed. "I have no idea where he is, he's supposed to be here."
"Wherever he is, he'll most likely come home tonight, right?" Rose asked, trepidation in her voice.
"I-I guess so. He left the Slytherin dorms before I did, so I don't think he's at the castle," Helena explained. "Merlin, Morgan, and Maeve, why must he make things so difficult!" she exclaimed, although beneath her anger, Rose could see she was worried.
"Maybe I should just wait in his room tonight then?" Rose suggested.
"What will you do if he doesn't come? You're not of age, it isn't like you can apperate back to Hogwarts," she countered.
"The Malfoy's are hooked up to the Flo Network, right? I can just sneak down to the fireplace in the main hall and go to the Hogs Head. I can walk back to Hogwarts from there," she insisted.
"Alright, if you're sure about this…" Helena looked apprehensive, but she seemed to trust Rose.
Rose nodded.
"Ok, come with me," Helena urged.
They made their way through a labyrinth of hallways and staircases, before they reached a door at the end of a hallway on the top floor of the house. Rose knocked on the door. No answer. She slowly opened it, to find it lit solely by the full moon that cascaded through the large window across from the door. It revealed that the room was empty.
"Ok, this is where I leave. If I'm gone for too long my father will send out a search party," Helena explained.
Rose nodded and with that Helena rushed back the way they had came,
Rose cursed her luck before entering the room, closing the door behind her. Her eyes scanned the room. Like the rest of the house it was huge. The bed was king sized with a white duvet. Aside from the bed it was sparsely furnished. The only other pieces being a chunky dresser, two identical nightstands, and a desk; all carved from the same dark wood.
Rose made her way over to the bed, and sat down. From where she was sitting she could see three doors. One was the door she had emerged from, the one to the right of the bed presumably the bathroom, and the one across from the bed near the dresser was most likely the closest.
"Master Malfoy," came a shy high-pitched voice followed by a knock on the door to the hallway.
'Shit!' Rose thought. She looked around quickly for a place to hide. "The closest!" she whispered under her breath.
She quickly, but silently, dashed to the door. Carefully opening it, she stepped inside and closed the door, just as she heard the other door open.
A small sliver of light peeking through the space between the door and the floor alerted Rose that the person who had entered the room had lighted the candles. Light also spilled through the keyhole in the door. Rose knelt down and looked through. Despite her limited range of sight, Rose was able to see a small pale creature moving around the room. It was a house elf come to ready her master's room for bed.
Rose watched for a while before an overwhelming exhaustion washed over her. She didn't understand why she was tired all of the sudden, but regardless she moved from her position at the keyhole to lean up against the back wall of the closet, which was fairly deep.
The scent of lavender filled her nostrils, and Rose took off her mask in welcome to the soothing smell. She then saw that the lights in the room had been extinguished, and before she could stop herself, she was asleep.
A/N: Ok, I know, I know, Scorpius didn't make the apperance you had expected, but I promise you he has a pretty large role in the next chapter. I will post it within the next day or so, so stay tuned. As a little teaser I figured I'd let you know that the next chapter is inspired by the song Play With Fire by The Birthday Massacre. I hope that will be enough to sate your curiosity until I post the next chapter. As always, please review! I thank all of you for your support!