A/N: There is a little piece from Tchaikovsky's 6 duets for piano and voice, called Tears. It is always performed in Russian in a classical setting so I will provide a translation in the notes at the end.
It is obvious why I chose this composer, he was gay and oppressed by the society, this part of his life is erased from his biography in Russia and other Post-Soviet countries.
The grand ballroom in the Greengrass estate was lavishly decorated by the most exquisite Christmas ornaments. Large garlands of holly and evergreens were hanging off the walls and frozen trees with charmed ice crystals, that chimed every time someone walked by, framed the main entrance. There was an outrageously tall fur tree in the center, an array of baubles all shapes and sizes, candles, and miniature ice sculptures on its heavy branches.
The hall had a glass door that lead to the garden, protected by the heating charms, with green bushes and Ancient Greek statues everywhere and a magical fountain that was shooting colorful sprays of champagne up in the air. Thankfully Greengrass family were not keeping those annoying peacocks and there was plenty to drink.
Draco entered the party with his mother in hand. It was a masquerade so a mask of silver and black suede was firmly on his face, Narcissa was wearing a veiled hat adorned with a small flock of taxidermied birds holding ash berries in their beaks and talons. He was trying not to fix his dark green robes too much. There was a silver dragon embroidered on the fabric in silk and it moved around curling and uncurling its paws and sending rivulets of threaded fire on the sleeves or the back. Those robes were amazing and under different circumstances, Draco would boast and parade around in them, but that night they felt too heavy and uncomfortable and too loose in some places and too constricting in the others.
"Draco, dear, don't forget to smile," his mother said through clenched teeth presenting her gloved hand to be kissed by one important person after the other.
The chamber orchestra had already set up on the stage and the hosts entered the ballroom in matching costumes of silk and organza. Daphne and Astoria followed them, dressed as water fairies, with sparkling bejeweled hair ornaments and robes of aqua and cerulean blue. She looked pretty, he had to admit, a bit shy for such a grandiose event but at least her smile was less fake than any other in the room.
Draco came up to introduce himself, placing a gallant kiss on her hand.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister Malfoy," Astoria said. Next to her Daphne huffed in disapproval and whispered something into her sister's ear.
"I know already," the girl answered nonchalantly.
The Slytherin had to suffer through three waltzes with the lady. Fortunately it wasn't like Pansy at the Yule Ball, younger Greengrass could dance, her body almost weightless under his hands as he steered her across the ballroom in the frenzy of robes. She smiled at him as they finished their last dance and settled next to big glass doors looking out into the orchard.
"Care to have a little walk in the garden, Mister Malfoy," she suggested.
"Call me Draco," he offered her his elbow and they went out, a perfect couple having a stroll.
"Don't you like the statues," Astoria showed him the composition of Cupid and Psyche mere inches away from a kiss. "My father had won that one in a muggle auction. Curious how these muggles could portray magic without knowing it actually existed."
"They probably knew back then," the blonde commented, studying the sculpture, the woman was reaching out to the winged youth like she had been yearning for him all her life, obvious passion portrayed in alabaster.
He would never have that with her, as much as he would make himself imagine it. She was a nice, proper girl but a girl nevertheless. Draco would respect her and probably have enough stimulating conversations about art and music and literature not to be completely disappointed by his future wife, but he could never love her, that was obvious.
"I know that you're not exactly a ladies man, Draco," Astoria said quietly as they sat in the gazebo with vines of ivy weaved around its pillars, "My sister, Daphne, had been dating Blaze Zabini for a while, and he told her in confidence that you were… erm, not interested in women."
"And are you okay with your fiance being a queer?" he gave her a bitter smile.
"I don't have much of a choice," the girl replied, "But you know, at least you seem like a decent person. Unlike my previous suitor."
"What happened?" Draco asked.
"It is a long story, let's just say I am glad that most of the former supporters of You Know Who ran away from the country," Astoria laughed and then paused, her eyes wide, "I'm sorry… I've said a wrong thing."
The blonde shook his head and lifted his sleeve a bit to show her faded remains of the Dark Mark on his forearm.
"I decided this does not define me anymore," he told her seriously.
They sat in silence for a moment, thinking of their own things, and then the girl stood up and started twirling around the enclosure, her lightweight robes shimmering brightly under the artificial light of the lanterns.
"Is there a boy… that you love?" Astoria asked, continuing to spin around.
"There is," Draco confirmed solemnly.
"Does he know?"
"I think so," the Slytherin remembered those sincere smiles Potter always gave him even when they weren't fooling around.
"You are a lucky guy, Draco." she exhaled, stopping at last. "The person I love is married. He doesn't even suspect I am a witch."
"A muggle?" he gaped at her, astonished at the revelation.
"He is my vocal coach. Father adores muggle classical music so he hired the man to teach me," Astoria explained. "We started our secret relationship a year ago… it is mad, I know. I am only sixteen and he is twice my age… but I haven't seen a person with a more beautiful soul than he is."
"And your father suspects nothing?" Draco laughed incredulously.
"Oh. He does," the girl admitted, "That's why he chose you since you play the piano too. He thinks that would keep me away."
"We should probably go back," he suggested, "I heard your mother wanted me to perform something for the guests."
"Do you mind if I sing?"
"Tchaikovsky?"
"I'd love too!"
It was a bizarre situation, both of them as eager to call off this farce of an engagement as each other, both of them having a secret that no pureblood wizard would approve of.
As they entered the ballroom once again, Mrs. Greengrass came up to Draco and reminded him about the piano piece he agreed to play.
"Astoria and I decided to recite a piece together," he announced.
Approving applause resonated in the room as witches and wizards came closer to the grand piano to listen. The blonde sat down, casting a spell on sheet music to change to his own, and looked at the girl expectantly. She came up to the improvised stage smiling nervously and fidgeting with a layer of her robes. Draco's fingers touched the keys, playing the introduction, and then she inhaled and started singing in the most heart-shattering soprano he'd ever heard, a slight English accent in her pronunciation:
"Слёзы людские, о слёзы людские,
Льётесь вы ранней и поздней порой…
Льётесь безвестные, льётесь незримые,
Неистощимые, неисчислимые, —
Льётесь, как льются струи дождевые
В осень глухую порою ночной."
It wasn't a Christmas song, it wasn't a declaration of love, it was a scream for help from both of them, a desperate cling to something that they were going to lose after this betrothal takes place. The ballroom erupted in astonished clapping, the audience oblivious to the meaning of these words.
"That was beautiful, my love," Mr. Greengrass came up to his daughter, kissing her on the cheek. "But I think that most of you know why we are here today. To announce a union of two ancient wizarding houses and two young hearts before us. Astoria, Draco…"
He didn't manage to finish his sentence when the wards started ringing, making everyone gasp and scream and cover their ears. A couple of ornaments on the Christmas tree and champagne flutes shattered from the sound as a group of people clad in crimson robes Apparated into the hall.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Gareth Greengrass shouted. "The DMLE has no business barging in here unannounced!"
"Mister Greengrass we suspect there is a group of wanted Death Eaters attending your party at present! Corban Yaxley is one of them," the man closest to the stage announced. "We need to escort our witnesses for their protection."
He came up to Draco, taking him by the forearm unceremoniously and dragged him away from the piano. The blonde noticed that his mother was also brought in by another man, whose face was eerily familiar to him.
"We excuse the disturbance, our people will search the building. In the meantime, everyone should remain where they are," the Auror demanded.
"Draco! Be careful!" he heard Astoria shout to him as he and his captor Disapparated away.
He was almost not surprised to see an abandoned muggle warehouse instead of the Ministry holding cell when they finally arrived.
"Where is my mother!" Draco demanded, taking out his wand in a warning.
"You won't need that!" the man said and disarmed him effortlessly.
"What is going on!" he shouted, looking around.
There were a couple of empty wooden crates thrown on the floor haphazardly and some muggle repairing equipment but the windows were bolted shut with thick wooden planks and there was a massive chain and a padlock on the door. He had little chance to escape.
"You have something that we need, Draco," the fake Auror grinned maliciously. "You do remember old family friends?"
The wizard waved his wand and took away the glamour. An ugly face of Crabbe Senior was glaring at him.
"You bastard!" he screamed, launching himself at the man with his fists.
"Incarcerous!" Crabbe shouted.
Draco fell to the floor, ropes twisting around him and making it hard to inhale fully.
"You were clever back then, at the safe house, to bring Potter with you," the Death Eater said. "But the Boy-Who-Lived won't help you now."
"What do you want?" the blonde panted.
"I want to see your poncy arse burn like my poor son, whom you abandoned!" he exclaimed, "But Yaxley has other plans for you… He'll be here soon. But before he comes… we might have some fun."
The Slytherin knew what would happen next, the Cruciatus curse attacked his strained nervous system, sending him into the abyss of agony. He was too anxious about his mother to dissociate, feeling all of the impact. The ropes tightened, preventing him from writhing on the floor and he felt like lack of oxygen made his mind swim, he was about to faint, to plunge into sweet oblivion.
"Not so fast…" he heard Crabbe sneer. "Eneverate!"
He was pulled back into clarity until another Curse had him see white. Draco thought he would have gotten used to this after two years, but those few months of peace after the war made him soft. He prayed that Corban Yaxley would come soon and end this torture.
"Crabbe! Enough!" were the words that saved him.
The pain stopped and Draco vomited, he pushed himself further away on the floor like a worm, trying not to roll into the mess next to him. He noticed another man standing next to him, a very familiar smell of expensive cologne in the air around him.
"Draco, Draco, Draco," Yaxley clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "You go around Obliviating my nephew when all he did was ask politely… Such lack of manners!"
"Fuck… you!" the blonde spat.
"Now, now, you don't want anything bad to happen to your precious mummy, do you?" he asked with false concern. "Let's cooperate and nobody would be harmed… much. Where are the memories?"
"I don't know!" Draco protested. He honestly did not know where other vials with information might be.
"Baelish told us you had a little peek into her mind when you had your little meetings at the DMLE interrogation chambers," Yaxley said.
"She Obliviated me!" the blonde exclaimed. "I don't remember anything about it!"
"How fortunate you've left this little thing for Williamson to find," the Death Eater showed him a glass with the Memory Restoring Elixir Granger had given him on the train. "Open wide."
He felt someone's rough hand prying his mouth open and a slightly bitter liquid touched his tongue and poured down his throat.
Translation of lyrics from Russian:
Sad human tears, oh sad human tears,
You rain on down both early and late...
You flow unknown to us, often invisible,
Pour inexhaustible, countless, miserable, -
Flow as rain spouts touch down till storm clears,
In gloomy autumn flow as night time spate.
If you want to listen to the performance it is available on YouTube