Happy New Year my fabulous readers. Lots of thanks yous for little gifts which came in the guise of lovely reviews.
If you were in need of a party after all of the festivities here's one for you to hopefully enjoy...well a bit of one anyway :-) Apologies as always for any errors etc.
Hermione groaned aloud as she stood in front of the full length cheval mirror in her room, wearing the iridescent white silver dress, then it was the vibrant red one, then back to the white silver and back again to the red, this had been going on for a full twenty minutes or more. Both dresses looked stunning in very different ways and Hermione just couldn't make up her mind which one to wear. She had hoped that once her hair had been styled and make up professionally applied it would all fall into place and her choice would be easy, that was coming up to what was actually nearer half an hour ago. Just as she had predicted, the high heeled silver strappy sandals and evening bag did nothing to aid her choice, they complimented both dresses with spectacular ease.
"Urgh this is ridiculous!" She complained to herself, swapping the dresses over yet again.
"Make it silver, make it red." Again she muttered aloud looking at her reflection in the long mirror, almost stamping her elegantly shod foot.
A smile suddenly curving her lightly glossed lips as she was reminded of one of her favourite films from her childhood; two angry little fairies fighting with their wands over the colour of a dress for their Princess, at once point it had ended up half pink and half blue, Hermione's smile broadened.
"Accio wand."
With a brief wave of her own wand Hermione replicated Flora and Merryweather's handiwork by splicing the two beautiful gowns together, she wasn't entirely sure how her spell would work, but was delighted with the result. Leaving her with what was in fact the perfect combination for the fire and ice theme, the top half of the gown glittered in iridescent white silver, the tiny beads and sequins looking like shimmering icicles. The vibrant hot red silk swept at an angle across her hips, the entire thing clung unforgivingly to her slender but feminine shape. The splicing had even resulted in a rather nice side split which revealed a very shapely leg and those high heeled strappy sandals. Oh yes indeed, Hermione was very pleased with the result, twirling around in front of the mirror with an exceedingly pleased smile on her face. Slipping her wand into an artfully concealed pocket in the skirt, adding a tiny hint of red to her glossed lips and a squirt of her favourite perfume, Hermione had the odd sense of déjà vu.
As the ice palace had been constructed adjacent to the hotel itself, its arched, flowered and bejewelled entrance was outside. To ensure that guests remained dry in the event of rain, and warm in the still chilly evenings, a covered, heated walkway had also been erected. The canopy was adorned with snow covered leaves and twigs and was attached to one of the small side doors at the front of the hotel, a burly livered wizard stood on guard, ensuring everyone provided the correct password to gain entrance to the exclusive gathering, Hermione included.
"Icarus." She whispered to the stern faced man and was granted immediate access.
The floor beneath the carefully decorated awning was covered in a thick luscious white carpet resembling soft snow, the subtly glowing lanterns which hung on sharp spikes, provided both the heat and the light, red and yellow flames dancing brightly behind frosted glass casings. The small tent like construction somehow managed to remind Hermione of the marquee Molly and Arthur Weasley had for Fleur and Bill's wedding, an afternoon which had been brought to an abrupt halt by the fall of the Ministry of Magic and news that Death Eaters were on their way. Despite the heated lanterns an icy chill streaked down Hermione's spine, she hoped this recollection suddenly flooding her mind wasn't a bad omen. The untimely memory also served as a sharp reminder as to what the man she had enjoyed such intense pleasure with, was capable of, and had once been. Neither the Unspeakable or Hermione Granger needed any reminders, but Hermione found herself strongly focused on the had been part. The Unspeakable might have enjoyed the bedroom antics just as much but was also reminded of the unobscured view from the window and was perhaps not so certain of the had been.
From the outside the Palace of Ice looked like an oversized igloo, but once inside thanks to some very clever magic, it was just as elegant, swanky one might say, as the hotel itself. The thick luscious white carpet that resembled snow continued inside, it covered all but two areas of the floor, a small square area, which she assumed was a dance floor and a patch in front of the bar. Whilst these were both clearly wooden, they had been whitened to give the impression of being frozen, the host really had thought of everything. Talking of the host Hermione cast her eyes across the opulently decorated space, looking for Lucius Malfoy. So much for a small private party she thought, unable to spot the Dark Wizard through the sea of heads, famous and infamous faces.
Lucius Malfoy certainly had an elite guest list, his business associates were a veritable array, a wizarding who's who, some she recognised from headlines in the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly, and some she had no idea who they were. But there were also quite a few that she recognised from the Ministry of Magic's files, many of whom the Unspeakable Hermione Granger, was extremely interested in, Dark Witches and Wizards who had gone to ground for various reasons, some whom she knew had spent time in Azkaban and even Nurmengard and others who had successfully evaded aurors for years. Hermione found herself once again split, the Unspeakable almost whooping for joy at so many, most wanted under one roof, that really couldn't be a coincidence. Hermione Granger however was more than a little disappointed, sad even that Lucius Malfoy still associated with such wizards. She knew from those same Ministry files, when she had happened across his name, that there was quite literally nothing in his own more recent activities that indicated the former Death Eater was up to anything, but old habits did die hard. Perhaps it really was just business she tried to tell the annoyingly excited Unspeakable.
For her own part, the odd head glanced in her direction, she even received a smile here and then, but all in all she felt she wasn't drawing too much attention or rattling too many wands with her presence.
Reminding herself that she wasn't working, or on assignment, Hermione tried to be just Hermione, for now at least and made her way to the bar. Whilst itself not carved in ice, it boasted many magical creatures on its counter top who were, all expertly sculpted and glistening in the beautiful atmospheric lighting. She found herself next to a coiled snake, silently musing how apt it was, and helping herself to a glass of rosé champagne from a perfectly flowing fountain... Lucius Malfoy really had pulled out all of the stops, or in this case corks. Hermione lifted the bubbling saucer to her lips; the salmon pink alcohol was perfectly chilled and delicious. Her eyes drifted to the label, a smile tugging at her wet lips, Bollinger, how very Muggle and of course how very expensive.
"Hermione!"
A creepily familiar voice sounded at her ear, Hermione felt her freshly bathed skin crawl once more and her blood chill to the temperature of the champagne. She took another swig from her glass and turned towards the sound of Sandor Sirron's unwelcome tones, of course he was here, she knew he would be. His dark, deep set piggy eyes were more narrowed and seemed a little more unfriendly than they had done earlier.
"I wasn't aware that you had been invited." He went on, his tone decidedly edged with suspicion as he all but accused her of gate-crashing.
Hermione smiled, this time there was nothing feigned in its frostiness.
"You didn't ask." She almost snapped, unable to bring herself to use either his given name or his more formal address.
The obnoxious man glanced around; another heavy tumbler clasped in his pudgy hand.
"A palace of ice." He observed needlessly.
"You must feel right at home."
Hermione should have been offended, but she wasn't, instead she hid both her amusement and delight in his noting her cool demeanour, behind the much larger rim of the champagne saucer. His claws were definitely out, she certainly hadn't imagined the unfriendly undertones, obviously directed at her leaving him in the bar earlier. She was about to respond when another familiar, much more welcome voice caressed her ears.
"There you are my dear, you look absolutely beautiful."
Accompanying the easy compliment, Hermione felt a large warm hand at the base of her spine, its heat searing through the thin silk of her dress and joyfully heating her chilled blood. She noticed the puffed up cornflake's small eyes widen in surprise and an oddly worried look settle on his round face. She turned into Lucius Malfoy; he looked every inch the important, affluent host in his dark impeccably tailored dress robes. His imposing presence and intoxicating cologne overshadowing everything, his splayed palm remained on her lower back, his other hand firmly clasped around his cane. Her mind once again flashed back to much earlier in the day, warmth now flushing her neck and cheeks.
"Thank you Lucius, as you can see I found it impossible to choose, you really do have exquisite taste."
A roguish, incredibly appreciative smile curved his sensual mouth and he licked his lips. "In all things…" He added, a sexy undertone now lacing his voice.
"And how very creative of you."
His admiring gaze became cold as it drifted to the fat man at her side and warmly back again.
"Are you oiling or ruffling." He whispered as if they were quite alone.
Hermione had wondered if perhaps the former Death Eater's words about stirring things up and having some fun of his own had been an idle promise, but he seemed true to his word and enjoying himself to boot.
Her twinkling brown eyes met his now questioning blue grey.
"I thought the former, but it appears the latter." She saw those blue grey eyes of his narrow as they moved back to the man to whom she had been speaking.
"Sirron." Lucius acknowledged the man; his tenor just as dismissive as it had been with the house elves.
Obviously Sandor Sirron had exaggerated somewhat, clearly he was not as good a friend of the owner as he had purported to be, but then Hermione was hardly surprised by that revelation.
The puffed up cornflake now looked decidedly uneasy, nodding at Lucius' address, those beady eyes of his darting between the Dark Wizard and Hermione. His pigeon chest heaving with the knowledge that he might have in some way stepped on Lucius Malfoy's toes, it was undoubtedly a frightening prospect.
"I wasn't aware that you knew Miss Granger."
Lucius' tone was harsh, Hermione noticed the rotund man swallow hard, just as he had done earlier in the bar, one hand tightened around his glass, the other tugged uncomfortably at another tightly fitting jacket, this one belonging to the tuxedo he wore, clearly nervous traits, as was the bead of sweat which again formed on his top lip. It was rather satisfying to see this annoying, obnoxious man sweat, devilment got the better of her.
"We met earlier in the bar." She told Lucius honestly, her brown eyes narrowing at the now very uncomfortable man.
"Mister Sirron, brought me a drink."
The puffed up cornflake looked as if her were about to speak, but Hermione was enjoying his discomfiture far too much and continued quickly.
"And being such a good friend of yours..." She felt Lucius stiffen at her side.
"He asked if there was anything he could do to make my stay more pleasurable."
The words let alone the thought almost stuck in her throat and Hermione sipped innocently on her champagne, washing away the nasty taste the thought left. Without even looking at Lucius Malfoy's face, she could imagine the look on it, she could feel his reaction through his touch and saw the white knuckles around the silver headed serpent. Oh yes Sandor Sirron had definitely overplayed his friendship with the owner, his sweaty, uneasy silence spoke volumes. Hermione went on conversationally, as if she were completely unaware that anything was amiss.
"I had to dash off before I could assure him there was nothing, that my stay was already much more satisfying than I had anticipated …"
She shifted against Lucius' loose embrace, his thumb gently circling her lower back was as distracting as it was unfairly erotic. The flush that had warmed her neck and cheeks spread like wildfire through her body, the silk of her gown accentuating his delicate touch... unbelievably more satisfying and pleasurable than she could ever have anticipated, Hermione thought savouring another sip of the thankfully chilled champagne.
"Sirron."
A third voice almost snapped behind Hermione, this time it was one she didn't recognise, the two men with her obviously did, and all three turned towards its sound.
Julius Nihil was even taller up close than he had appeared from Lucius Malfoy's bedroom window. He had at least two or three inches on the Dark Wizard and was a good foot taller than his pudgy sidekick. His attire was similar if the not the same as it had been earlier, a very dark charcoal grey suit, with velvet lapels was worn over an equally sombre shirt, a slightly lighter grey tie secured it at the neck.
His hazel eyes surveyed the other three from beneath dark rimmed spectacles which sat half way down his large nose.
"Sir"
Sandor Sirron looked and sounded even more uncomfortable than he had done when addressed by Lucius, practically squirming as he fell under the unblinking gaze of Julius Nihil.
"Did you attend to those …"
The man currently at the top of the Ministry of Magic's most wanted list seemed to lose his train of thought, his focus shifting to the blonde man.
"Lucius."
He said almost absently as that unblinking hazel gaze settled on Hermione.
"I don't think your friend and I have met."
Hermione noticed those hazel eyes take in the protective, no possessive, arm Lucius had about her, unlike the obnoxious Sandor Sirron, she was not unsettled by either Julius Nihil's gaze or his tone. She however knew enough about old wizarding values and etiquette not to introduce herself, but to wait to be presented. If her presence here was going to ruffle his feathers the least she could do was allow the host to do the ruffling …
