Chapter Forty Two
The Yule Ball Pt. One
0o0
Christmas morning dawned as grey, chilly and charged with humidity as pre-spring. The tremendous cold had finally broken and there was a slight promise of fresh snow in the air.
It was only the second Christmas that Astoria had ever spent at Hogwarts, but it began in far higher spirits than her first. Something about the ominously dim grounds outside seemed to make the the corridors and rooms inside feel twice as snug and the fact that so many people had stayed on over break prevented the castle from feeling like an empty museum of its former self.
The staff, continuing to demonstrate a certain desire to impress the visiting guests, seemed to have ordered the tiny elves down in the kitchens into a state of near frenzy. Everywhere Astoria walked throughout the day, she was accompanied by the faintest aroma of good things baking; breads and pastries near the basement and apples and spices near the eaves.
Around noon, the grey sky outside began to grow slightly darker and by the time Astoria had made it to the Great Hall for a light lunch, the cloud-cover had unclenched its moody firsts and begun to release the first flakes of what promised to be a thick blanket of snow.
"It's a sweater set!" Tracey deplored, thrusting a hastily opened parcel in a cardboard gift box onto the tabletop. "My mother sent me a navy sweater set!"
"So?" remarked Theodore flatly, pushing the present away from the sandwich he had built himself out of dinner rolls and dripping hunks of roast duck. "It's a sweater. Astoria gets me one every year and wraps it around a book, trying to be clever. Just chuck it in your trunk somewhere."
"It's so prim," said Astoria cheerfully, ignoring Theodore's snide remark about her thwarted annual attempts to help him dress in less ill-fitting clothing.
"Astoria buys you a sweater every year?" drawled Draco Malfoy in flat disbelief, stopping behind Astoria on his way down the table. "What happens to them?" Draco eyed Theodore's loose fitting and very care-warn shirt scornfully.
"Nothing," said Theodore stubbornly. "I never wear them."
"Well, I would never wear anything so stuffy," continued Tracey unchecked, eyeing her own sweater set petulantly. "If only it were white... I could probably get away with wearing it to Sisters meetings if it was."
"You've been trying for four years to make Nott dress smarter and this is all you could manage?" demanded Draco unkindly, turning towards Astoria.
Astoria did not know what to say to this and the streak of red that was creeping up Theodore's neck beneath his tatty collar made Astoria want to push Draco into a heap of snow and leave him there.
"Theodore looks fine," Astoria ventured stoutly, feeling at once that there were several far more cunning answers she might have given that would not have sounded so false.
Draco scoffed loudly and continued onward toward Crabbe and Goyle.
Theodore was still holding his sandwich in one hand but he no longer seemed inclined to eat it and Astoria could tell by the pinched look on his face that he was contemplating Draco's point with a sense of embarrassment.
"I don't care if you wear the sweater or not," said Astoria, just earnestly enough to make Theodore blush a little more.
"Forget it," Theo snapped, throwing his sandwich down onto his plate. "I don't care."
"Maybe I could have one of the house elves bleach it?" muttered Tracey, still preoccupied with her lousy gift.
"What?" muttered Astoria distractedly, catching Tracey's drift again and promptly inspecting her sweater's tag as a result. "Don't, it's angora and you'll ruin it. Save it for our lunch with Ursula Flint in the spring. It'll be perfect. I bet you'll look like someone's boring housewife in it."
"You know what I do resent, though?" continued Theodore darkly, presumably carrying on a conversation that he had started in his head. "The fact that every time Malfoy is in a bad mood, he takes it out on me because I'm your friend."
"How do you know he's in a bad mood?" insisted Astoria doubtfully, intentionally choosing not to inquire into Theodore's reasoning about why Draco was more likely to insult him because he friends with her. "Isn't he always like this?"
"To second year Ravenclaws, maybe," Theodore sneered. "He doesn't harass his own house half as much unless he's already ruffled, otherwise we'd have mutinied on him years ago. He's been a moody tit all weekend."
"He has, hasn't he?" Tracey agreed. "It's probably Pansy's fault. She was nagging him about corsages in front of Blaise last night. It was kind of hilarious."
Not particularly wanting to hear about Draco and Pansy's coordinated ball outfits, Astoria endeavored to change the topic but was spared having to do so by Maudlin.
"Ria, we're going up to the North Tower to watch the snow!" he informed her, snagging a handful of pistachios out of a nearby bowl. "Come with us?"
Since agreeing to be his date to the ball, Maudlin had become decidedly easier to tolerate over the course of the past two days and he no longer harassed or attempted to cajole Astoria every time he saw her. Astoria, rather thankful for the newfound peace, was in no rush to reinitiate any kind of a spat with him.
"Alright," she agreed. "I'll catch up after I eat."
"There's a feast before the ball," said Maudlin dismissively. "Save yourself the room and come with us now, or you'll wind up stuffed later."
Astoria turned toward Tracey, passing along the invitation.
"I can't," said Tracey, shoving her sweater set deeper into its cardboard box and then crushing the whole thing flat. "Cassandra wants to see me. Something about last minute flower decorations."
The idea of Cassandra contriving a scenario that would allow her to meet with Tracey alone struck Astoria as faintly ominous, but Astoria was determined not to care about Cassandra's antics or allow herself to feel threatened by them.
"All right," Astoria sighed, "but tread lightly."
Alec was quick to lend Astoria his cloak when they met up on the steps to the tower (perhaps in order to intentionally expose the mint green blazer he was wearing underneath, complete with a stiff white pocket square) and together, along with Draco and Luc, they all climbed the narrow, spiraling staircase that lead to the tallest outcropping that overlooked the owlery.
"It's really coming down, isn't it?" remarked Luc, sounding a little put out by the steadily rising snow on the stone bannisters.
"You don't even know what real snow looks like," remarked Alec unconcernedly, flicking a tuft of it in Astoria's direction.
"Your father's house is near Saint Petersburg, isn't it?" snapped Luc. "That's still a city. You weren't born on the floor of a yurt in Siberia. I don't know why you always make it sound like your entire life has been lived in suffering."
"Oh, the weather is the least of anyone's worries under my father's roof," said Alec smoothly, unperturbed by Luc's visible agitation. "The white nights of home would expose every quaking fear you've ever had and some you haven't even thought of yet."
Astoria had an idea that Alec was being intentionally sensational in order to provoke Luc, but to what extent, Astoria could never tell. There was always something of a dark shadow cast over any conversation that lead to Alec's speaking about his father, and if it weren't for his careless mannerisms and sense of sly amusement, Astoria had a feeling that his words would occasionally have the power to be quite frightening.
"What is that even supposed to mean?" Luc demanded, his well-disciplined French accent becoming more pronounced in his state of irritation.
"Nothing," sneered Draco, tired of Luc's whining. "He's trying to make you act like an idiot. Shut up."
Alec chuckled heartily and leaned against the snow covered battlements.
Maudlin had brought along a thermos of spiced cider from the great hall, which Alec promptly spiked with a flask of what Astoria could only assume was fire-whiskey. "Cheers," he added, passing the drink along to Draco.
A gust of wind, smelling strongly ice and the far off pines of the forest played with Astoria's hair until the thermos came back around to her. The cider was still warm and the slight bite of the liquor did something to sooth her stomach against the decidedly high-strung energy of Maudlin's group of friends. It occurred to Astoria, as she stared off across the white washed grounds, that it had been a very long time since she had felt capable of controlling the direction of any conversation she had with Draco or Maudlin.
It suddenly seemed to Astoria that, despite the fact that everyone was neatly partnered off for the dance and getting along fairly civilly, there was a deeply rooted hostility hidden somewhere in the heart of this group dynamic waiting to break free, and she did not know when she had lost track of its brewing progress.
At some point, Astoria had either stopped trying or stopped caring, but the sense of repressed violence had not faded while her attentions had been elsewhere.
"Here," said Astoria, trying to pass the thermos to Draco, feeling a great desire to be soothing.
Draco briefly glanced at the drink in her hand and scoffed, a motion that Astoria realized a few seconds later must have meant 'no' because he continued to ignore her and her outstretched arm.
Feeling a little embarrassed, Astoria gave the drink to Alec and studied the side of Draco's face, realizing for the first time that he seemed to be funneling a good deal of his energy into not looking at her.
"Is that bloke Yaxley coming the ball tonight?" wondered Luc half-heartedly, perhaps thinking of Cassandra's vested interest in Roland's potential attendance.
Alec groaned.
"Give it a rest, Luc," yawned Maudlin. "Cassandra's smitten. You know her well enough to know that there's no getting in her way now. She's on the war path."
"What a rubbish job we all did on our ball dates," mumbled Luc bitterly. "Alec's going alone."
"Speak for yourself," said Astoria lightly, still infected with the desire to be faintly placating. "I happen to think that I'm a very proper date."
Alec and Maudlin both spared Astoria an amused glance but Luc was undeterred.
"Well, you've known Maudlin since you were both babies. It's not as though he's got a shot of hooking up after the dance, does he? That rates as a poor date in my opinion."
"Try not to be so self-pitying, Millefeuille," commented Maudlin lazily. "Your company is trying enough as it is."
"Draco's got the best chance," continued Luc resentfully. "At least he's got a proper date. He might get lucky at any rate."
Unbidden, Astoria's eyes strayed searchingly toward Draco's face. This idea had not yet occurred to her and she was surprised by how thoroughly the prospect irritated her.
Draco shrugged stonily and continued to stare off into the snowy wilderness, his eyes as cold as the wintery weather. "Yeah," he drawled almost stubbornly. "Maybe."
Astoria forced herself to ask for the thermos, determined not to do or say anything that might give away her startled instincts. He's mad at you, Astoria realized, taking a long, slow sip of the cider. You should have let him down easier when he suggested taking you to the ball. Now he'll probably grope Pansy to get back at you and you'll have to live with Pansy vividly re-living the experience with Flora and Cassandra for the rest of the year.
Astoria choked slightly on the cider and blamed it on the cinnamon stick at the bottom of the thermos.
0o0
There was nothing for it; Astoria was just going to have to be as pleasant as possible and hope that she might somehow win over the evening by dint of charm alone.
Astoria stood in front of the bathroom mirror at the top of Gryffindor tower, adjusting her earrings.
It had been a long time since Astoria had dressed so meticulously and her tense sense of insecurity privately showed in the way she had perfected every physical detail that could be managed. It was as though she was secretly hoping that by matching her underwear to her bra and making sure that every inch of skin from her elbows to her feet had been properly exfoliated, she might somehow make herself more impervious to imperfections of the rest of the world.
Astoria had conducted her ball preparations with one rule in mind; no snickering would be inspired by her own physicality. Astoria had left no holes to be picked at, no reason to inspire any stray malicious comments. If Cassandra was going to gossip about her or spread any cruel rumors, Astoria was going to force her to do it while she was in true fighting form.
With this idea in mind, she had painted on her nail polish with an almost sociopathically steady hand and spent more than an hour correctly applying makeup to the contours of her cheekbones and eyelashes. In all truthfulness, Astoria knew that her face had a tendency toward loveliness as long as she was not over-tired or unwashed and as a result, she was often terribly lazy about the amount of work she put into preening over herself. She had sparred no stops tonight however, and the effect was one of almost intimidating elegance.
Her goal for the evening was to be as pleasing and congenial as possible, thereby preventing Cassandra from attacking her over her choice of a ball date, with the additional aim of potentially winning Draco back from the well of resentment that he was currently treading water in.
Astoria touched her lips to make sure that her light lipstick was sealed. Her fingers smelled like soap from so much scrubbing between eyeshadow and lotion applications. For a moment, she allowed herself to close her eyes and breathe in the clean, calming scent. Astoria groped for the sink with her other hand, pressing her palm against the cold porcelain.
There were a hundred things that could go wrong within the next several hours and Astoria was determined to thwart them all with nothing but her wits and her will to survive.
0o0
The Fat Lady was already roaringly drunk off of chocolate liqueurs with her friend Violet from one of the downstairs paintings when Astoria began her trip toward the entrance hall.
"Nice bum!" Violet called after her approvingly, hiccuping tipsily.
Yes, thought Astoria somewhat smugly, leaving Violet's commentary about properly fitting hosiery behind her. It is.
The entrance hall was very busy when Astoria arrived. Tracey quickly spotted Astoria and waved enthusiastically from a tight-fitting position between Blaise and Pansy. Astoria approached them confidently, pointedly ignoring the way that Pansy was clutching Draco's arm in a vice-like grip, as though afraid he might float away if she released him. Immediately, Astoria felt a deep rooted desire to escape from Pansy's company; a desire that could not entirely be explained away by the fact that she was giggling girlishly at nothing and wafting an ornamental fan in front of her face like someone's great aunt at the opera.
"You look nice, Greengrass," commented Blaise, smirking at her.
"Thank you," said Astoria, generously accepting the compliment and ignoring the leering undertone of Blaise's gaze simultaneously. "The dress isn't new- I've worn it before, but I think it repurposes well."
This was actually true. It was the same floaty, lilac colored satin that Astoria had worn to meet the Yaxleys for drinks the summer before. With formal jewelry however, it adapted well as nightwear and mercifully did not lend her skin the same sickly paleness that the white dresses for the Sisters of the Eastern Star so often did.
"There's Cassandra!" said Pansy, snapping her paper fan shut and tearing her disapproving eyes off of Astoria. "She'd have done better wearing heels, wouldn't she? At least she's in navy. I told her that would look better than black."
"The Rowle colors are navy and black?" commented Tracey, searching for harmless fodder in order to hold up the conversation.
"The Burke family," said Pansy stiffly. "Her mother was a Burke. No proper girl wears her father's colors to an event."
"Oh," said Tracey, straining to remember Astoria's brief lecture about this. "That's right."
"She's going to have a fit when she sees you in purple, Astoria," said Pansy, looking as though she was counting down each second until impact with vindictive relish.
"Not to my face, she won't," said Astoria calmly, drawing herself up to her full, high-heel enhanced height while eyeing Cassandra in her prim flats and pearl necklace. "Maudlin will have to find her a step stool first."
Blaise imploded with surprised delight but Astoria, spotting Maudlin and Alec near the front doors, politely excused herself before Blaise could truly enjoy himself at Cassandra's expense.
Graceful, pleasing and unafraid, thought Astoria as she made her way towards the doors. That is all you have to achieve tonight. Don't even think about Cassandra.
"Ria!" called Maudlin merrily, moving around Luc. "You look like a piece of cake!"
Astoria angled her head so that he could kiss her cheek, smiling radiantly.
"Yeah," agreed Luc, casting her a quick and disinterested look. "Very nice. Do you think there will be drinks in there? I have whiskey but I want to mix it."
"Why don't you ask Cassandra?" Astoria suggested primly. "I know she helped organize the refreshments. She would certainly know."
"Forget that," sneered Luc. "I don't want my whiskey confiscated."
"There's a feast before the ball," said Alec wryly. "I don't suppose you'll be forced to swallow it with a dry mouth."
Pansy and Draco had detached themselves from Tracey and Blaise and were currently heading their way. Astoria did her best not to track their progress out of the corner of her eye, fearing that doing so might cause her to lose her nerve. Pansy had warn a frilly, pale pink dress with a black trim (a disingenuous nod to one of the Malfoy colors, in Astoria's opinion) but her hair, finally released from the tight pony tail that she normally wore it in, looked very nice.
For a strange, strangled second, Astoria felt a queer stab of sadness for Pansy, thinking of the way Draco would have thrown her over as ball date, if Astoria had let him and the strange, rather unmerited hostility that Astoria herself felt toward Pansy for procuring him in the first place.
"Draco," said Maudlin supportively, opting for a hand shake over an embrace.
At that moment, Fleur Delacour sauntered by in all of her icy blonde glory, heading to her rightful place at the front of the line as a school champion. The only male head that did not turn at least a fraction for a full twenty foot radius, Astoria noticed, was Alec's.
Parvati Patil slipped by next, leading Harry Potter by the arm as she adjusted her multitudinous bracelets. Parvati beamed at Astoria, who waved back, knowing it would annoy Draco but seeing no way to avoid doing so.
"Oh my God," gasped Pansy in horror.
Astoria knew at once what she was talking about. Ahead of them, standing just behind Cedric and Cho, was Viktor Krum with Hermione Granger beside him.
Smiling privately at Hermione's good fortune, Astoria forced herself to gaze at the floor.
The doors opened to admit them and Astoria was not alone in admiring the impressive decor. If Cassandra Rowle was responsible for even half of what had been done to transform the Great Hall into a wonderland, Astoria was very impressed indeed.
The walls had been coated with a layer of sparkling frost. Mistletoe and ivy crisscrossed the inky back ceiling, which reflected a clear winter night above them. The four house tables had been removed to make room for a hundred smaller ones, lit by lanterns and decorated with white flowers. In the corner of the room, between two giant ice sculptures that served as glittering bookends, was a vast icy bowl filled with drinks.
"I'll be back," said Luc, making an immediate beeline for the drinks. "Save me a seat."
Astoria allowed Maudlin to suggest seating arrangements when they reached their table without making a sarcastic comment. This was something that Maudlin always, without fail seemed to do and it annoyed Astoria to no end to watch him pretend that was the host of every event he had ever attended, but tonight, she held her peace. It was only when she was placed in a seat on Draco's left that she began to wish she had spoken out sooner.
"What are these?" demanded Pansy, taking her own seat on Draco's right. She plucked a menu up off of a pristine white tablecloth that screamed of Cassandra's decorating influence, and eyed it with hostile confusion.
"I think you order from your plate," said Maudlin mildly, looking slightly amused by the quirkiness of this notion.
"Is Krum drunk?" demanded Draco snidely, watching Hermione and Viktor Krum conversing over at the champions table.
"I know, right?" gaped Pansy unkindly. "She probably dosed him with love potion. She's not very pretty, but she's certainly bookish enough for that sort of thing."
"Krum's a silent scholar," remarked Alec impartially. "All he does is sulk, read and gaze broodingly toward the north. Maybe she appealed to him?"
Draco audibly scoffed but Luc had returned with several fizzing drinks and a few bottles of pumpkin juice. "Everyone take a measure of something," he commanded, covertly pulling a flask out of his pocket.
Astoria allowed him to top off her fizzing raspberry flavored drink, making a point to be careful about pacing herself, so long as maintaining her dignity remained a priority.
Draco continued to abuse Krum but Astoria's interest had moved on to Ludo Bagman, who was sitting at the head table and wearing a magnificently silly set of purple dress robes covered with bright yellow stars that reminded Astoria of something a magician on a muggle halloween sticker might wear.
Did he know that Astoria and the twins had paid off his debt to Hodrod? Was he perhaps, even now, thinking of ways to approach her or was he ignorant of Astoria's meddling hand in his financial affairs?
"Your Head of Games and Sports is a delight," remarked Alec, following Astoria's gaze. "It looks like I could hire him to perform cunning tricks for me."
"From what I hear, he performs plenty of those for free," said Maudlin, his eyes sliding onto Astoria only briefly, but firmly. "Nobody seems to have anything good to say about him."
Astoria was reminded of the large sum of money that Maudlin had very likely paid in order to put Bagman in his position of current debt and she left off staring at the staff table at once.
"Look at Potter," chuckled Luc, his spirits wildly enhanced by his newfound ability to consume his whiskey in peace. "His date is actually rather nice looking."
Draco sneered disdainfully and returned the salt shaker in his hand to the table roughly, where it teetered and fell sideways.
Instinctually, Astoria quietly righted the shaker for him.
The food was very good but it was not what anyone had come for and when everyone had finished eating, Dumbledore stood up and asked that they all did the same. The small tables zoomed to the the side of the hall, the dancing flames of the many lantern centerpieces flickering slightly from the breeze.
A string quartet started up near the stage and the crowd began to push away from the center of the room to allow the champions space to start the dance.
"Ooh," said Pansy. "I have to find Cassandra. I'll be right back!"
Maudlin was busy trying to catch Alec's attention however, gesturing toward the doors, anxious to escape from the stuffiest portion of the evening into the freer illumination of softly glowing fairy lights in the rose gardens.
Seeing no reason that this should not be allowed, as the rose garden had clearly been decorated with the ball in mind, Astoria finished her raspberry whiskey fizz and followed Alec out into the chilly night.
Except that it was not especially chilly. A labyrinth of ornamental walkways had been constructed, bordered by statuary and hardy roses, all laced with a layer of powdery soft snow. The sound of trickling water nearby made Astoria think that they must be standing very close to a fountain and she suspected that the same spell that seemed be keeping the temperature on the path so moderate must surely also be what was protecting the flowing water from ice. For a moment, Astoria was slightly in awe, but then Draco followed them out onto the steps and she remembered to close her mouth, fearing that Pansy might be lurking somewhere behind him.
"Hogwarts should always have guests," sneered Draco half-heartedly, clearly as pleasantly surprised as Astoria was by the number that had been done on the front lawn.
"Let's walk," said Luc, anxious to be as far away from the prying eyes of the teachers as possible.
The garden was a veritable maze of winding tunnels and pathways, all seemingly straight out of a painting featured in a book of fairy tales.
Talk soon turned to Christmas presents, as they meandered lazily through the warm snow. Aston Mendel had purchased a boat of some kind that Maudlin seemed very excited about, so when the conversation turned back onto Astoria, it was especially insulting to have to admit to her lack of bounty.
"What did your father get you, Astoria? He's quite stylish. I suppose you two have that in common."
"Nothing," Astoria admitted, toying with the roses. "He usually sends my gift closer to the new year, after he's had a chance to sober up and remember it's the middle of the holiday season."
Draco scoffed but Maudlin laughed. "I've always loved your father, you know. He's endlessly fun."
"That he is," Astoria conceded, carefully picking one of the pink blossoms to avoid picking her fingers. "Too much so, maybe."
"At least he's a laugh," Maudlin continued. "It's your aunt that I could live without. It's terribly hard to relax in her presence, isn't it?"
Astoria laughed. There was certainly a touch of truth to this that often went unspoken, and was rather refreshing to hear someone other than herself admit to how intimidating she could be.
"You're afraid of Belladonna Lestrange?" drawled Draco who, never having really seen Astoria's aunt in a towering rage, seemed inclined to classify Maudlin's opinion as cowardly.
"To be fair, it's been a very long time since I've seen her," continued Maudlin unashamedly, "but yes, every memory I have of her is tinted with shades of terror."
"How long has it been?" wondered Astoria, choking with amusement, raising her voice slightly over Draco and Alec's snickering.
"Years, I should think," admitted Maudlin, struggling to recall.
"Does she live in a haunted manor atop a hill?" asked Alec slyly, enjoying the conversation immensely. "I suppose your view overlooks a misty moor?"
"No," sighed Astoria wistfully, eyes sparkling. "But the only pieces of furniture in her house are an antique fainting couch and a vase filled with half dead flowers."
"Ah," said Alec, his grin as a wide as a melon and positively pregnant with sarcasm. "Then she must know exactly where it's considered most appropriate to situate a bronze bust or a heavy urn?"
"On the most precarious shelf at the top of a long staircase, of course," Astoria answered primly, hardly able to keep a straight face.
"What are you two on about?" demanded Luc, missing their gist entirely. "Hold on, I hear Cassandra."
Astoria continued laughing despite the approaching voices, but whether this was because of the whiskey or because occasions that allowed her to mock Belladonna so expertly were very rare, she did not know.
"I'm going to find her," said Luc, as incapable of avoiding Cassandra as Astoria was of liking her.
"You'll get lost," said Alec, who did not seem to be in the possession of any desire to hunt down Cassandra Rowle. "The gardens are thick."
"We'll meet up by the fountain," shrugged Luc, clearly unconcerned by the idea of being unable to reunite with the group.
Astoria watched him go, half suspecting that Draco would tag along after him in order to find Pansy, but he remained where he was, leaning against a statue of a tall reindeer.
"You should offer to dance with Emilie tonight," said Astoria thoughtfully, turning toward Maudlin. "You'll save me so much grief from Cassandra, if you do."
"Alright," Maudlin shrugged, trying not to appear a little annoyed at the prospect. "I'd better do it now, then, before I'm drunk and the music gets sappy."
"Stay here," said Alec calmly, starting off in the direction Maudlin's wake as well. "I'm going to collect the whiskey from Luc before Cassandra takes it from him, the bloody fool."
It was an awkward moment. Astoria had been counting on Alec's presence as buffer but the rose bushes rattled to admit Alec onto the central walkway nonetheless, leaving Astoria alone with Draco and the sound of softly bouncing shrubbery.
"Well, I still don't see what's particularly frightening about your aunt," drawled Draco smugly. "Mendel must scare easily."
Astoria smiled at the flower in her fingers, so thankful that Draco's mood seemed to have defrosted that she was perfectly willing to respond as pleasantly as possible as a result.
"That is because you don't know her," said Astoria, moving forward to tuck the rose in her hand into Draco's breast pocket, arranging it so that it peeked over the carefully pressed fabric. "Truthfully though, my aunt is an absolute menace. Maudlin's probably right to have avoided her for so many years."
"Because she murdered her husbands?" demanded Draco thoughtlessly, eyeing the flower furtively. "It's not as though she had her sights set on Maudlin when he was eight."
Astoria used her arms to hoist herself up onto a low stone wall behind her, sitting just below the flowering vine of a creeper rose that had climbed a stone column. Draco, for his part, seemed to have realized his carelessness because he pushed away from the statue he had been leaning on and backtracked slightly. "If she murdered them," he amended.
"Of course she did," Astoria scoffed, thinking that Draco had probably already heard many stories about her aunt's guilt before now, and that it was slightly foolish and rather Cassandra-like to attempt to deny the truth. After all, the Wizengamot had failed to convict her aunt of murder four times. What were the odds that Draco would be the one to finally prove her crimes?
Draco had ceased fidgeting and was watching her fixedly, privately entranced. "Yeah?" he asked at last, afraid of startling her out of her current state of willing vulnerability.
"Well," Astoria mused, "three of them, at least. Uncle Mordecai vanished on a country lane in his motorcar one weekend, so who knows? Maybe he wised up and fled. I doubt it, though..."
"Mordecai in his motorcar?" Draco repeated sneeringly, clearly believing that he was being played for a fool by some made up story. "Because that's remotely likely."
"I'm not kidding," Astoria insisted, trying very hard not to laugh at the ludicrousness of her own tale for fear of disrespecting the dead. "My aunt has a very dark sense of humor."
"I suppose he also had a mustache, this uncle of yours?" Draco drawled, ducking under the creeping rose branches so that he might be able to see her better.
In truth, Astoria's uncle Mordecai had been sporting a rather well-groomed mustache in the weeks preceding his death and had most certainly had one on the day that he had disappeared in his motorcar, but Astoria did not have the heart to confirm this.
"It's not my fault the scene of his death was so alliterative," countered Astoria crossly, playing with the hanging rose that Draco had pushed aside, her lips quivering with a very inappropriate grin.
Draco scoffed, amused just the same.
"I suppose your mother probably never lounges about on a fainting couch, plotting foul play?" Astoria continued curiously, knowing that this kind of teasing had a chance of backfiring and coming across as a way of insulting Draco's family; an act that always made him bristle.
"She's never tried to murder my father, if that's what you mean," Draco sneered.
"That you know of," Astoria laughed.
"My mother's not like that," said Draco stiffly, seeming to decide that Astoria was joking and refraining from taking offense in order to correct her instead. "Mother always goes along with what my Father thinks is best. She wouldn't know what to do without him."
Astoria studied Draco's face, realizing that the respectful awe that he himself felt for his father probably played a prominent hand in convincing him that this was true. Astoria, for her part, had a hard time imagining anyone as socially careful and proud as Narcissa Malfoy giving up on life and dropping dead just because of Lucius's absence, no matter how much she might like her husband.
Not wanting to admit to this opinion when she knew so little of Narcissa personally however, Astoria let the matter drop, sensing that all she would do by pressing the issue was accidentally force Draco into insulting his mother's sensibilities.
"What happened to Alec?" Astoria wondered.
"Probably waylaid by Cassandra," decided Draco, eyeing the path that Alec had taken. "You can play puppet master with Maudlin all you like, but you're not going to win her over. It really doesn't matter how many times you make Maudlin dance with his girlfriend."
"I didn't make him do anything," Astoria corrected, her knee brushing the side of Draco's leg as she fixed her skirt beneath her thighs.
"He wouldn't have done it otherwise," Draco snapped, watching her face a little too intently.
"Maybe not," Astoria allowed, letting her knee continue to rest against Draco when she had finished adjusting her skirt, thinking queerly of Pansy back up at the castle.
Draco's eyes lingered on this point of contact in the dark, clearly unsure what to make of it. He opened his mouth to say something, thought the better of it, and then started again.
"Does he hit on you when no one's watching?"
Astoria's eyes lit on Draco's dimly visible face, feeling an odd spark of electricity dampen her skin as she wondered if this question had required Draco to summon his courage before asking it.
"No. Why would he?"
"Why does Cassandra have such a problem with you, then?" Draco demanded, uncertainty shaking his expression free of its usual arrogant rigidity. "She's always been controlling but she's unnaturally stuck on you."
For somehow who had been unnaturally stuck in a cycle of resentment toward Harry Potter for his entire education thus far, Astoria thought this was a rather tall order. Rather than suggest that this was something of a family trait however, Astoria took a different tact.
"Who knows? Maybe she thinks I hit on him," Astoria suggested.
"Do you?" sneered Draco, his irritation as obvious as his apprehension.
A lost fairy fluttered through the vines above them. Astoria watched it until it had bounced back out onto the path.
"No," Astoria answered flatly. "So you should tell your cousin to call off the hounds."
"It's not my job to tell her what to do," Draco sneered. "Why don't you try acting less interested in your old friend, Maudlin?"
"Well, you might want to say something to her soon," said Astoria cooly. "She'll drag you into things, if you don't."
"Why would she do that?" Draco scoffed, clearly underestimating Cassandra's ability to meddle in the affairs of others.
"She's already tried, you know," said Astoria, feeling the beginnings of a rather dangerous plan beginning to assemble itself.
"What are you talking about?" asked Draco a little intolerantly, his eyes narrowing.
"You think she wouldn't use you, just because you're her cousin?" Astoria asked. "That's what she does, she uses people."
"What do you mean?" demanded Draco, not following.
"She told me just the other day that should would never make me a full member of the Sisters of the Eastern Star unless I agreed to make out with you and then tell Maudlin about it."
Astoria waited patiently as the trust-breaking bomb dropped. She had not originally meant to tell Draco about Cassandra's silly bit of hazing, but the darkness of the garden and the way Draco had just briefly spoken about his mother seemed to be urging her to do so. It wasn't Astoria's regular habit to trust Malfoy any further than she could throw him, but it suddenly seemed that this was an occasion where it might be wiser to break the rules. Astoria was certain that Cassandra had been counting Astoria's social fear to keep her silent and compliant. Surely, by mentioning the matter to Draco himself, Astoria might manage to bring him onto her side of the matter? Astoria herself might not have enough sway over Cassandra's life to pose much of a threat, but Draco certainly did and if there was one thing that every Slytherin Astoria knew hated, it was being tricked into acting as a pawn in another person's manipulation.
"Why would she do that?" asked Draco sharply, having gone very still and slightly pink .
"She didn't want me to tell you about it, either, " Astoria continued, driving Cassandra's foolish betrayal home to the best of her ability. "I"m fairly certain that I was supposed to trick you."
Draco's eyes flickered mutinously, torn between annoyance and some other, sharper fear that Astoria imagined had something to do with wondering why Cassandra had picked him so particularly.
"Hundreds of paths," muttered Alec wearily, slipping back through the gap in the bushes. "I found them near the fountain."
Draco blinked, tearing his keen gaze away from Astoria's face. His own sense of self-preservation seemed to have frozen him in place as he contemplated this bit of news, perhaps trying to understand all of the many ways that it might become embarrassing for him.
"Are you two playing hide and seek?" asked Alec smoothly, uncapping Luc's flask.
Astoria hopped down off of the wall, meeting Draco's eye and holding it for a fraction of second before pushing aside the hanging vines.
More sound on the path nearby alerted Astoria to newcomers before she even had chance to differentiate their voices.
"Draco!" trilled Pansy shrilly, spotting them through the leaves first. "What are you doing back here?" she demanded, all put pushing Astoria aside in order to reach him.
Pansy was accompanied by Cassandra, Tracey and Blaise. Tracey gave a great squeal of delight when she spotted Astoria before seizing her round the middle in a fierce hug.
"Trace," Astoria laughed indulgently, privately thinking that it looked as though Tracey had been drinking.
"The band is so good!" said Tracey emphatically, releasing Astoria and stumbling back into Blaise, who caught her with cat-like precision. "Blaise took a bottle of brandy from the teacher's table- look! Show her Blaise!"
The only thing Astoria could see however, was the fact that Blaise seemed disarmingly pleased to be acting as Tracey's support beam, to such an obvious extent that Astoria made a silent promise to herself to keep an eye on the two of them throughout the evening, secretly fearing the potential for foul play.
"Do you want any?" asked Tracey, trying to hand her the bottle. "Cassandra says she won't drink any without a glass."
Cassandra made a low, annoyed sound under her breath, adjusting the way the cable of pearls she was wearing fell about her neck.
"I want it," muttered Draco, moving away from Pansy's clutching grasp.
Astoria became aware of another voice, this time unpleasant and highly familiar, on the other side of the wall of roses.
"Then flee-" the voice sneered. "I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts."
It was Snape and Astoria was suddenly painfully aware of the bottle of unconcealed brandy in their possession and Tracey's obvious level of intoxication.
Draco swallowed his mouthful and thrust the bottle at Blaise, clearly having heard Snape's voice as clearly as Astoria had.
"Hide that," he commanded sneeringly, stepping as far away from Blaise as he could.
Snape and Igor Karkoroff strolled into sight. Snape had his wand drawn and his sharp, beetle dark eyes were scanning the bushes intently, searching for rule-breaking students.
"Back to the hall?" suggested Alec lazily, pocketing Luc's flask.
"Yeah," Astoria agreed, falling into step behind Tracey and Blaise because the path was not wide enough to admit more than two people side by side.
"You look nice tonight, Astoria," said Cassandra primly, after several minutes of walking together on the path.
"Thanks," Astoria returned carefully, plucking the hem of her dress away from the thorny garden wall, intentionally not returning the compliment.
"I don't know why you bothered to make such an effort, honestly, if you're only going to hide in the gardens all night," Cassandra continued, pushing a rose branch out of her way and letting it snap back against Astoria's hip rudely. "What a waste of a good outfit."
Astoria gently unhooked her dress from the branch that Cassandra had sent catapulting into her, gritting her teeth.
"You were alone with Draco for quite a while," Cassandra remarked smirkingly. "One might wonder if you were up to something scandalous."
"We were talking about you, actually," said Astoria, replicating Cassandra's light, falsely pleasant tone in her annoyance.
"Didn't your aunt ever tell you that it's rude to gossip?" Cassandra sneered.
"We weren't gossiping, actually" Astoria returned. "I was only telling him about our little conversation in the greenhouses this week."
A shadow crossed Cassandra's face.
"Anything discussed between Sisters is considered confidential," said Cassandra after a lengthy pause, a hint of something menacing now coloring her voice. "I know you wouldn't tell him anything that I may have mentioned to you in confidence."
"Was that rule in the newsletter?" Astoria wondered idly. "I didn't read this month's edition."
"You told him?" Cassandra scowled, dropping her vapid, chummy pretense at last.
"Was I not supposed to?" asked Astoria slowly, eyes blazing.
They had both come to a stop in order to stare at each other. When Astoria made to catch up with the group again however, Cassandra thrust out an arm to stop her.
"Are you stupid, Greengrass?" she spat, squinting at Astoria as though she was the most useless human being she had ever had the misfortune of knowing.
"Not especially," remarked Astoria stoutly, moving away from Cassandra's hateful touch.
Cassandra bit her lip, searching for the best course of recovery, her face a swirl of contending emotions.
"Well," Cassandra sneered at last, "it's your loss, I suppose."
"Because now I'll be a junior member forever?" demanded Astoria mockingly, knowing that it was unwise to be so careless.
"Because now you'll still do what I say, or else I'll tell the teachers you've been taking illegal bets on the tournament," said Cassandra triumphantly, absolutely unwilling to lose even one battle in her war for supremacy, even if it meant a rift with her cousin.
A trickle of fear shook out across Astoria's body like mist. "I don't know what you're talking about..."
"Like hell, you don't," Cassandra laughed sharply. "You're the bottom of the food chain Greengrass, learn your place."
Astoria had not anticipated this and she did not like the position that it put her in at all. This was beyond social blackmail, this was potential expulsion. Anthony Goldstein had once tried to rat her out, but he had gone to Professor Vector who greatly favored Astoria, and he had lacked Cassandra's dedicated malevolence. What if the teachers opened an inquiry into the matter and discovered her dealings with the goblins? That might mean something worse than expulsion... not to mentioned the fact that the twins would be dragged into it as well.
"You know what, forget this!" Astoria scoffed. "You win. I resign. You can have the Eastern Star, for all I care."
"Oh, please!" Cassandra scoffed, pulling a face. "Could you be any more pathetic?"
"What do you want from me?" Astoria snapped, at her wits end. "This is idiotic."
"I want you to do what I tell you to do, now matter what it is," Cassandra hissed punishingly, clenching one of her fists. "I'll give you until the end of the night. After that, I'm writing you off. At least you'll have Maudlin to pay your legal bills."
Astoria ran her fingers through her hair irritably, momentarily forgetting the effort she had put into styling it.
"I'll play nice at meetings, if that's what you want," Astoria snapped, feeling very awkward and decidedly panicky, hating the way Cassandra had taken the upper hand so thoroughly and feeling as though it was her own fault for neglecting her original mission statement. "Will that do?"
"No. I like the original task better. It serves you right," Cassandra shrugged, her eyes sparkling coldly. "You're the fresh fool who told him."
0o0
More than being the 'Yule Ball', this was sort of the 'introduction to the Yule Ball', wasn't it?
Sorry this post took so long guys, my end of the summer schedule has been packed with all kinds of crazy stuff. Things will get a little better moving toward the fall.
Random tidbits:
In case anyone is wondering how Cassandra is related to Draco, I've been assuming that she is Lucius's mother's sister's granddaughter. In point of fact, Draco's grandmother's great niece on his paternal side.
I also have a working list of color heraldry for most of the old families for anyone who likes that sort of thing:
Hundin (Alec): Blue and gold. I've long assumed that Alec is a is an alleged relative of Rasputin's. So, as a faint homage to the Romanov family, I went with some very faberge egg appropriate hues for him.
Malfoy: Black and silver. (J.K. Rowling has stated that they are actually black and green, so I'm breaking the rules on this one).
Mendel: Purple and gold. Partially for aesthetics, but also because purple is so associated with showy wealth and extravagance.
Lestrange: Black and crimson. (Black and gold, if you're a canon purist. That's what it says on the wiki, so J.K. must have stated it at some point).
Greengrass: Green and brown. Because of grass, y'all.
Trefle-Picques (Emilie): White and black.
Millefeuille (Luc): Canary yellow and chocolate brown. After the pastry he takes his name from.
I'll have the second half of the ball up as soon as possible. There might even be some dancing in that half! Reviews are always a rewarding treat!