A/N: Thanks to all readers and reviewers, especially: amethyst-rose and tryntee13.
The first time I danced a Minuet in public, my Knees trembled in such a Manner, that I thought, I should not have been able to have gone through with it, however by taking all Opportunities of dancing in Public, I have got over that foolish Bashfulness.
- Mabel Webber, "Peter Manigault's Letters" [to his mother in Charleston, SC] The South Carolina Historical and Genealogical Magazine, 31/3 (July, 1930), 277
"Well, let's keep up the pretense that only the presence of some two hundred purebloods prevents us from tearing each other's authentic Regency clothing off and shagging openly on the dance floor right this second…" He nibbled his way down her neck. "I agree, Gin; I don't think that Pansy is here with Humperdinck. I do wonder what she's been doing with herself, though. I haven't seen hide nor hair of her for years. She's dropped out of the wizarding world entirely, from what I can tell."
"Then I wonder why she'd be here at all," said Ginny. The feeling of Blaise's kisses was pleasant now, but no more. She had been able to switch off the sensual feelings as if turning a dial on the Wizarding Wireless, although it hadn't been quite as easy. She could still feel the sensations simmering beneath the surface, and it made her skin itchy and hot, as if something were threatening to burst if it all went on much longer. But it's going to have to, she thought. We've got to keep this up.
"So do I," said Blaise. "Especially because she's not here as part of an actual pureblood couple, only with Milly. It makes me wonder what's really going on. But maybe we'll learn more, before the night's over."
"I think we could use all the information we can get," said Ginny. "Blaise, I… uh, I haven't told you everything. Pansy wasn't the only one I ran into." She took a deep breath, writhing inwardly. Blaise has to know everything, or he can't help me. I've got to tell him exactly what happened—urgh! "You see, I was headed up to the ladies' loo, and then—"
"Lord Draco and Lady Astoria Malfoy!"
They stood on the top stair, the two of them—at least, Ginny knew that there had to be two of them, because she'd heard two names. She had a vague impression of a yellow blur on the right, looking rather like a dandelion overdue to be yanked out of a yard before it went to seed and spread everywhere. But all she saw was Draco.
She knew at once why everyone else had looked strange in Regency dress, sometimes just a little odd, sometimes laughable, but always, always wrong. It was because they were all waiting to be compared to him. He was the standard, the only one who belonged in that clothing, who wore a black tailcoat and knee breeches and a foamy lace cravat as if they were part of his skin, as if he'd been born in them. She somehow hadn't noticed any of it before; the alcove had been too dark, or she'd been too distracted, but she saw it now, his carriage, his stance, his presence. Everyone else in the huge ballroom seemed to fade away, and he did it all without even looking at her or anyone else.
He was moving forward, all the way towards the other end of the ballroom. The crowd parted for him, as it always had, she thought, as it always would. His leather gloves were perfect. She couldn't stop looking at them as he got closer and closer. The fingers and thumb had obviously been cut out and sewn separately to ensure a flawless fit, and, of course, so much leather had been necessary to cover his hands…
He stopped only a few yards away from her. He was looking at her, she realized. The yellow dandelion blur was at his side, but Ginny barely saw it. Her. That was Astoria, of course; her mind automatically catalogued the fact. Draco's pale, expressionless, exquisite face rose from the snowy white cravat, and he was looking at Ginny.
Blaise was nudging her in the ribs and hissing something. She wondered what else had been said that she'd missed. Maybe Draco had greeted Blaise, or told him that he really ought to prepare to die, or, most likely of all, raised one patrician eyebrow and informed him that bringing a blood traitor like herself to the Pureblood Ball was in absolutely appalling taste. Maybe that was the excuse for coming over here in the first place. That would make sense. And now, Draco kept looking at her—looking through her, she corrected her. Then he looked away. As if she wasn't worthy of one more millisecond of his time, she thought. There was an almost inaudible ripple of whispering through the crowd.
Draco bent his head down towards Astoria.
Is he about to kiss her? Ginny wondered. She turned the idea over in her head. It would make sense. It would be a good strategy.
She certainly knew that she herself had to do something. It made no sense at all for her to stand there, motionless, silent. She couldn't imagine how it must look. She couldn't seem to imagine much of anything at the moment. A hush was spreading. That didn't seem good at all.
Ginny's hands and feet were numb, and she clutched onto Blaise to keep from falling. Good, she thought. That'll help, the fact that I'm touching him, that I'm clinging to him. From somewhere, she had no idea where, she dredged up a look of disgust and pasted it on her face. Then she turned it very deliberately on Draco. She shuddered slightly, and clutched Blaise harder. She could hear the low murmur that went round the room.
Draco turned his back quite suddenly and began to walk away, Astoria mincing at his side. The room seemed to let out its breath in one long sigh, and Ginny sagged against Blaise.
"Bravo, Gin," he whispered. "You should've been a Slytherin. I always said you were wasted as a Gryff, you know."
"It's a little late now," Ginny managed to say. "Do you think Humperdinck could possibly be watching this whole performance?"
"I don't really see how," said Blaise. "He was never announced, after all. Although I suppose that we can't be sure of anything anymore. Maybe we'd better start moving about in order to allow everyone to see us." He glanced upwards. His mouth twitched.
"What?" asked Ginny. Then she heard the unmistakable sounds of an orchestra tuning up before a performance, drifting down from the balcony above the dance floor. "Oh, no…"
"Oh, yes." He offered her his arm. "You do remember how to dance the minuet, right?"
"No!"
He grinned at her. "I simply can't resist taking the mickey out of you sometimes, Gin." He pointed down at her slippers. "They're imbued with a Tripudio charm."
"You mean you've known that all along?" she demanded.
"Guilty as charged."
"I ought to smack you, Blaise Zabini."
"Oh, do. You really ought. Everyone will think it's a charming lover's quarrel."
"Just for that, I won't." The corners of Ginny's mouth quirked up. As the orchestra struck up a slow, graceful tune that she supposed had to be a minuet, she couldn't deny that she felt at least a bit relieved at the prospect of not falling flat on her face in front of an entire ballroom full of snooty purebloods. One problem down… only seventy-eight million to go!
I really should have known better, Ginny thought a few minutes later. "Stop it," she hissed in Blaise's ear as they curved sideways in the lead-in figure in the middle of the floor.
"I'm not doing a thing," he whispered in her ear.
She waited until they crossed each other again in the right-hand turn. "You are," she whispered back. "You're glaring at Luna. Everyone can see."
He had nothing to say that. The statement was a bit hard to argue with, she thought, seeing as how they were in the middle of the ballroom floor with every other couple lined up in a double row and staring at them. She'd definitely forgotten about that part of the minuet.
When Luna and Dean took their places, Ginny stepped on Blaise's foot as hard as she could, pretending it was a mistake. Of course, Luna glared at him, too. She'd never even thought that Luna was capable of a glare. Dean stared miserably past Luna's shoulder the entire time. This is getting worse every minute! When Draco and Astoria took the floor, Ginny felt an exceptionally odd sensation, as if her brain had somehow detached itself from her head and floated up to the ceiling. She had no idea how many couples followed after that. Then Blaise was tugging at her hand, and she realized that the mixed portion had begun, when all the couples would be dancing together. She began to breathe again.
"Sorry," murmured Blaise, nuzzling at Ginny's ear. "It was a moment of completely horrid and inexcusable madness. I won't do it again. I think I'd better drink loads more champagne."
"It's all right," said Ginny.
She passed Draco in the figure of the dance and saw only his cold, set face. His icy eyes scanned her briefly, and then he moved on. She met Luna for a moment, feeling her long fingers patting her arm. "It's all right, you know," she whispered. Ginny danced sideways to the other corner, passing the line. Then there was a flash of dandelion, and she came face to face with Astoria.
The color yellow, Ginny decided quite objectively, made Astoria look as if she were suffering from advanced liver disease. The frills of lace sewn all over her dress didn't help one bit, either, and as for the fluffy yellow feathers stuck into her tightly curled hair… A dim, distant chord struck in Ginny's memory. She'd once watched a children's show on the illegal Muggle television that Arthur Weasley rigged up in the garage. Almond Street, or something? I think there was a character named Big Bird…
Astoria narrowed her eyes, which made her face look unattractively pinched. That's sort of birdlike, too, thought Ginny. More like a goldfinch with the mange, though. She widened her own eyes and tried to look innocent.
"They'll be here any second," hissed Astoria.
"What?" Ginny blinked.
"Oh, you'll find out, Ginny Weasley. You'll see." Astoria gave her a nasty smile.
She'd seen that smile before on Astoria's face, Ginny realized. It had been only a few weeks ago, when they'd been fighting in the corridor that was switching between the Crystal Palace and the Department of Mysteries. Harry had been trying to get in, and it had only been possible for him to come so close to managing it because Astoria had cast a Dark Opening spell. Astoria's secretive, triumphant smile had only appeared when she had been so sure that she'd win, and that she and Draco would disappear before Harry could get there, leaving Ginny trapped.
Fuck! Now what? wondered Ginny.
She took the hand of the nearest partner, her mind whirling. The blood in her veins jumped. Even through his gloves and hers, she knew that hand better than her own. But it was cold and stiff as marble, and Draco did not even turn his head one millimeter to look at her. She knew that she must behave the same way, and so she did.
Still keeping her iron hand in his, she danced sideways to back into the open space, opening out to face the other row of dancers. She thought numbly what a good thing it was that her shoes were dancing on their own, independent of her mind or heart or self. Now her feet were turning, and she bowed to the other line of dancers. Now they were turning back towards her partner. She bowed to Draco, and he did the same to her. Their eyes met for that one instant where no-one else could see, and she felt a spark of heat flame out. His own eyes closed, as if in exquisite pain.
The music came to an end. The last note hadn't even rung out before Ginny dragged Blaise to a corner of the room.
"Gin, can't you hold on a moment?" he protested. "I… uh…"
His eyes were following Luna, she saw. "Shut it, Blaise! I'm sure it just looks like we can't wait to start snogging passionately behind the potted palm again. Listen," she said urgently. "Astoria told me something."
"Astoria talked to you?" Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Pleasant conversation, I'm sure."
"Very, but that's not the point. She said that 'they'll be here any second.' What do you think that—"
The voice of the protocol-elf boomed out over the chatter of the crowd surrounding them.
"Mistress Daphne Greengrass and Master Gaylord Humperdinck!"
"Shite," said Blaise. "There's your answer, Gin. That was Daphne's plan? Showing up with Gaylord Humperdinck?"
Ginny craned her neck, trying to see over the sea of bonnets and plumes and headdresses. Not the first time, she hated being short. Blaise was still talking.
"I must say, I don't think it's the best plan I've ever seen in my life," he said. "What the hell was she thinking? And how do you suppose she managed it anyway?"
"I—I don't know," said Ginny. An awful thought was attempting to take shape in her mind. Daphne. She's Astoria's sister, and Astoria knew she was coming with Humperdinck; that's what she must have meant. And that smile on Astoria's face… No. It couldn't be true; it just couldn't. "Blaise, I've got to find a way to talk to her."
"Too many prying eyes," said Blaise out of one corner of his mouth, nuzzling her shoulder as Kitty and Vanessa Pucey walked past them, giggling.
"All right," said Ginny, silently vowing to find Daphne later on, no matter what. "Blaise, we know that Daphne and Humperdinck have to be here now. So where are they, exactly? I still can't see either one of them."
"Ginny, I can't say, but we've got to really arrange a show." His fingers moved along her collarbone. "Humperdinck is Draco's boss, and Potter's spy. Wherever he is, he's undoubtedly watching us. Maybe he thinks he's being more effective by staying hidden, but we've got to give him something to see."
"We've got to up the ante somehow," said Ginny, understanding all too well what he meant.
"What do you think?" asked Blaise. "More groping?"
"Not exactly," said Ginny quietly, noticing that Kitty and Vanessa were surreptitiously watching them, their eyes gleaming avidly. "I've got an even better idea than that. Just play along, okay?"
She took a deep breath, and then stepped back slightly from Blaise. She raised her voice.
"Darling, I'm so glad to be back with you," she said.
"I'm always glad to have you back, Ginstress," said Blaise in a low, seductive purr. "Of course, I'm glad to have you at all. Tell me, shall I have you now, or have you later? Which do you prefer?"
She giggled, coming close enough so that she could elbow him in the ribs. "That kind of thing isn't what I meant," she whispered out of one corner of her mouth. Then she raised her voice again. "It was such an ordeal. The past two and a half weeks, I mean."
Blaise looked a little confused. "Ah… yes. Right. Of course they were."
Ginny shuddered theatrically. "I don't ever want to see that vile Draco Malfoy again."
Blaise's mouth formed a brief O of comprehension. Then his face darkened in a way that made Ginny glad that he'd never decided to go on the stage. "Gin-of-my-heart, I promise you, I'm never letting him near you again! Once you present those sketches with him over dinner, that's the end of it." He paused.
"I've run out of ideas," he muttered to Ginny.
"Talk about how wonderful they are," she muttered back.
"I've heard the artwork puts Michelangelo to shame," declaimed Blaise to the ballroom. "Malfoy must have some redeeming qualities, after all."
Ginny thought for a moment. "Um… haven't the two of you been best mates since you were five years old, though?" she prompted loudly.
Blaise laughed. "We were, in bygone days! But once he dared to lay hands on you, dearest Ginny, sweetest Ginny, Gin, my innocent angel—"
"I don't particularly care if you go into a fit of apoplexy, Zabini," said a cold, hard voice, "but in the interests of sparing the entire ballroom the sight of it, I suppose I'd better inform you that I've never laid so much as a finger on Ginny Weasley."
Ginny shrank away from the ice in that voice instinctively. No acting involved. She clung to Blaise, who glowered back at Draco.
"I wouldn't touch a filthy little blood traitor like her," Draco went on. "I'm quite surprised that you lower yourself to the task."
"Don't you dare to speak to her that way, Malfoy," said Blaise in a furious, clipped voice.
"I'd speak to Weasley any way I please," said Draco, "except that I won't trouble to waste my breath in order to speak to her at all. I only thought I'd give you a warning, for old times' sake. I oughtn't to have bothered to go to the trouble. Come along, Astoria."
I wouldn't touch a filthy little blood traitor like her no matter what she looked like… It was something that Blaise had once said. Ginny remembered that vaguely now. But that had been such a long time ago; they had all been so young, it had been back at Hogwarts, before the war, in the innocent days, the carefree days. And now Blaise was stroking her hair, her face, her neck, and whispering to her with nothing but pain and kindness in his voice.
I didn't know anything about Blaise then, thought Ginny. I didn't know what he was really like. I didn't know what anybody was really like. Of course, I still don't know if I know anything now. Sometimes I think that I don't know anything at all…
"I don't care what sort of game he's playing," whispered Blaise. "I ought to punch him in the nose for that."
"No," Ginny whispered back. "You'd only look jealous, Blaise. We don't want to start that. But do you think we were convincing?"
"Malfoy certainly was," murmured Blaise. "I, ah… well, I tried…"
Ginny hid her grimace in his shoulder. "We were pretty bloody awful, weren't we?" All in all, she thought, Colin Creevey really had given a more convincing performance when he'd played the part of a giant squid and fallen off the stage during the fifth year production of A History of Hogwarts.
"We did well enough," said Blaise. He shifted his eyes a tiny bit to the right. Kitty and Vanessa were headed off towards a large group of people, avid smiles on their faces.
"But what about Humperdinck?" whispered Ginny.
In response, Blaise nudged her right elbow. Ginny glanced in that direction. She saw Daphne's head bobbing above a crowd only a few yards from them, her dark curls caught up under a small turban of satin and feather-trimmed tulle. Then Daphne moved slightly, and Ginny saw her apple-green silk gown with a long jacket cut to fit the gown trimly and button partially over it, colored a lighter shade of delicate green.
Humperdinck had to be somewhere very near her, Ginny realized. That meant that he'd seen her and Blaise enact their little scene.
She pictured him in a flash—tall, sinister, stooping over slightly. He'd have ebony hair and dead-white skin, with cold, cruel features and a hooked nose. His dark eyes would pierce through her, and nothing that she did that night would be able to fool him. She might as well give up right now. He'd make cutting, mocking, sarcastic comments as he slashed a red T for Troll on each of her Potions papers, even though she really wasn't doing as badly as all that in class—
Wait. That was Professor Snape. She felt awfully guilty about it now, too.
Daphne stood in front of Ginny, giving her a tight smile. "Mistress Weasley… Lord Zabini…. I'm so glad you were both able to attend," she said. The crowd murmured. Apparently, thought Ginny, that greeting represented some sort of official pureblood seal of approval.
The crowd thinned, and Daphne glanced to one side, clearly acknowledging her partner. Ginny still couldn't see him. Where was the sinister Gaylord Humperdinck, anyway? Ginny wondered. Wasn't he supposed to be tall, and awe-inspiring, and majestic, and… and…
A tiny, chubby man with wisps of sandy blonde hair sticking out all over a perfectly round, ball-like head beamed at her from baby-blue eyes. "Miss Weasley!" he said joyfully. "I've been wanting to shake your hand; yes, yes indeed, I've been waiting for ever so long that I do declare I think I'll simply expire from impatience right where I stand, right this moment, if I can't shake your hand. Can I shake your hand?"
"Uh—" said Ginny.
He grabbed her hand and pumped it up and down. His was tiny and damp. "Thanks to you, Miss Weasley, the Department of Art and Culture is truly coming into its own at last. Yes, yes; I'm expecting great things from you when it comes to this project for the new fountain sculptures, and, of course, from our Junior Minister Draco Malfoy—oops, I'm being terribly naughty, aren't I; I mustn't say that!" Gaylord Humperdinck giggled. "It's Lord Draco Malfoy, of course. They're always so teddibly tetchy about those hereditary titles at the Pureblood Ball, don't you think?"
"Um—" said Ginny.
"I do believe that I'll simply expire from excitement at the very thought of those sculpture sketches the two of you will be unveiling. Except that expiring before dinner would rather ruin the effect, wouldn't it?" He gave another rippling giggle.
"Well, I mustn't keep you from your perfectly edible escort too long, dear Ginevra," said Gaylord, rolling his eyes at Blaise in what was undoubtedly meant to be a very significant way, Ginny thought. "Lovely to see you, by the way, Lord Zabini! Ta-ta!" With another cherubic twinkle, he began to make his way to the opposite end of the floor, Daphne in tow.
"Blaise, have I gone mad?" hissed Ginny once they had disappeared.
"I wouldn't be a reliable judge," said Blaise. "I think I've possibly gone round the twist as well. But if not, then yes, you did just see what you thought you saw with Humperdinck. He looks like a right jolly old elf, and he sounds as if nothing would make him happier than to see you, me, and Draco in a threesome—" He grimaced. "Ugh. After how he just treated you, Gin, even I can't summon up much enthusiasm for that idea."
Ginny shoved him, but not very hard. "Blaise, what could it possibly mean?"
"Some sort of misdirection, maybe?" Blaise didn't sound very convinced, she couldn't help thinking.
"Daphne is the only one who might have any idea. I've got to talk to her."
Blaise looked at her with an unexpected seriousness in his eyes. "Gin, that sort of little tete a tete could be very dangerous just now. I think you'd better think twice about it."
"I know," said Ginny. "But…" She gnawed on her lower lip. The orchestra was beginning to tune up for the next dance, and she knew that they didn't have much time left. "Blaise, there's something I haven't told you. When we were in the Crystal Palace rooms over the past couple of weeks, I found out that there was a plan in place to arrest Draco if he didn't show up at the Pureblood Ball at all. Never mind how—I can't explain it just now. And I don't know exactly what the plan was, or anything like that. But if Harry was the only one behind it, then how could it've been set up weeks in advance?"
Blaise whistled under his breath. "Gin…"
"I've got to find out if Humperdinck was involved."
"It wouldn't do any good to tell you not to try, would it?"
"It's never done any good before." Ginny set her teeth in the way that made the beautiful line of her jaw stand out under her fine-grained skin.
"Will you just be careful? You could use a bit of common sense without breaking the Weasley code for stupid, stubborn courage, right?" Blaise asked in a wheedling tone.
She couldn't help smiling. "I suppose I could unbend that much."