This was written for Round Two of The DG Forum's 'Battle of the Drabbles' challenge. The prompt is listed at the end.

Clockwork

The hall was stuffy and smelt like expensive perfume mixed with sweat. There were too many people, too many fake smiles and lies disguised behind charming words. Wizards and witches laughed as they clinked their glasses together, like clockwork figurines just going through the motions. A job well done, they said. A perfect beginning to a perfect alliance.

Bile rose in her throat, acidic and choking, and for a moment Ginny felt like screaming. She felt like throwing her own celebratory cup at these people and watching the glass shatter into a hundred pieces; see the champagne spread on the floor and turn red to stain their perfect world with the blood they tried so hard to disguise. If she were to open the vaults in their banks, she knew their gold would be drenched in crimson; everything these people owned had been paid with blood. Blood and lies.

But she also knew it wouldn't make a difference. She could scream and smash things all she liked, and they would just turn their backs on the chaos as they always did. It was so much easier for them to pretend. So much easier to keep smiling. So much easier to lie.

"Pathetic, aren't they?"

She froze and turned to see Draco Malfoy leaning against the wall, watching her through steely eyes. She had never admired his looks; he was all sharp points and angles, to the point where his beauty seemed almost painful to look upon, like an ice sculpture that could cut at the slightest touch. Tonight, however, she couldn't help but notice the way his hair seemed to glow with the colours of moonlight when set against the stark black of his robes, or how his eyes seemed so much greyer than usual. He had never looked more striking, and she was annoyed to find that, for a moment, she couldn't bring herself to look away.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she muttered.

"Perhaps I simply wanted to enjoy the pleasure of your company." He stuffed his free hand into his pocket. "Or perhaps I am trying to escape the sycophantic fools who keep following me around, so I decided to take up residence beside a particularly murderous-looking redhead. Take your pick."

A reluctant smile curved her lips. "I would have thought you'd be enjoying this. It's what you're used to, isn't it?"

"I was bred into this society, but that doesn't mean I enjoy it." A hard glint entered his eyes. "After a while, you start to realise that everyone is just repeating the same motions; the only thing that changes are the ones sitting on the pedestal. They'll rule us like kings and queens, but once their use and charm is all dried up, the same people who fawned over them will then toss them aside like just another piece of junk."

"Sounds like you're speaking from experience."

He gave a wry laugh. "Oh, I've sat on the pedestal, and been pushed off it. Lucky for me, I'm handsome and rich, so even if my reputation is as sullied as dirty water, people still come crawling back to me in the end."

Ginny took a sip of her champagne. "Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy. You're not that handsome."

"I'm wounded," he responded, placing his hand over his heart.

"I might believe that if I thought you actually cared about my opinion, but I don't think you do." She looked him up and down, and a frown crossed her lips. "In fact, I wonder if you care about anything."

"Do you?" he asked, turning the question back on her.

She held his gaze, transfixed by the intense grey of his irises. A blink, a slight shake of her head, and then she was looking back at the other guests. "I care about my family," she said quietly. "I care about living in a society where justice is served fairly, and where mercy doesn't go hand-in-hand with an exchange of gold." Her hand trembled, and she tightened her grip on her glass. "I hate the fact that the Minister of Magic has sold us all to the devil with this new alliance."

A faint smile touched his lips. "Still the idealist, I see."

"Maybe." She placed her glass down on the tray as one of the waitresses passed them. "Or maybe I'm just tired of acting like another piece of clockwork, too stuck in my own routine to see that the world doesn't have to be this way. Aren't you?"

"I'm afraid I've never been much of a fighter for justice," he responded, also placing his glass on the tray.

"Only for yourself, right?"

He laughed. "What can I say? We can't all be unselfish do-gooders like Potter. It's not my problem the world can't sort itself out."

Ginny's eyes flashed. "So you're content to just let things continue this way? You're willing to ignore the indecency and injustice around you because it's not your problem?"

Draco tilted her chin towards him with his finger. "You know, Weasley, you should get angry more often. It suits you."

Her cheeks burned and she smacked his hand away. "What has that got to do with anything?"

His mouth twitched. "Er, that was my not-so-subtle attempt to change the subject."

"Why?" she taunted. "Afraid you might not like what I have to say?"

"Quite frankly, politics bore me."

She folded her arms. "I should have known you'd say something like that."

"You should have," he agreed.

Ginny continued to glower. His smile widened a fraction.

"Come, Weasley. Let's call a truce. This is a celebration, isn't it?" He held out his hand. "Dance with me."

"Why?"

He laughed. "Why not?"

Ginny had no answer for that, so she took his hand and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor to join the rest of the couples. Except she was not just another clockwork figurine, and as she looked into Draco's eyes, she thought that he might not be either.

Influence: Opinions Won't Keep You Warm At Night – Kisschasy.

Must include: A political alliance.

Word count: 1000 words.