Chapter Forty Three
The Yule Ball Pt. Two
0o0
The entrance hall was no longer empty when Astoria finally returned to the castle. Clusters of students now stood here and there in their seasonal finery; some leaning against suits of armor and laughing, still others sitting on the stone benches and holding court.
The sound of music trickling in from the Great Hall was an odd sound in here, echoey and unfamiliar. Astoria shivered slightly in her dress, keenly aware that it had been made for summer days, and tried to decide what to do with herself. Maudlin was still off with Emilie. Unhindered by Cassandra, the rest of the group had managed to move much more quickly up the garden path.
"Astoria!" called Theodore, saving her from continuing to stare about the hall aimlessly.
Theodore, wearing a slim-fitting grey suit, was sitting against a nearby wall. Millicent, dressed in all brown, appeared by a cruel trick of the light to be drawing style influence from a freshly unearthed boulder next to him.
"Hey," Astoria breathed, still agitated from her stroll with Cassandra. "What are you two doing?"
"Nothing," Theodore shrugged, brushing stray tobacco off his pants. "Avoiding the dancing, mostly. Want to come outside with me?"
"Not really," Astoria muttered, not wishing to return to the maze of rose bushes in which she had just been verbally attacked. "Have you seen the twins anywhere?"
"Yeah. They're stomping about in the middle of the dance floor like sailors on leave," remarked Theodore disinterestedly. "One of them gave Montague a black eye, you know."
"They were fighting?" asked Astoria quickly, surprised in the extreme.
"No," Theodore corrected, carefully tucking his rolled cigarette into his breast pocket. "Doing a jig of some kind. Montague didn't duck fast enough."
Astoria bit back a smile, all too capable of picturing what Fred and George's rowdy idea of a proper two-step might look like.
"Where have you been, anyway?" Theo wondered, eyeing the doors behind her, perhaps only just realizing that she had not come in from the ballroom.
"Outside," Astoria answered evasively, not particularly wanting to have to give a detailed account of her evening, as she had already managed to put herself into a slightly ridiculous state of affairs and Theodore was particularly prone to judgmental scorn. "I should find Maudlin."
"In the corner, near the drinks bowl," Theodore suggested. "That was the last place I saw him."
Astoria waited for Theodore to wander off into the garden before doubling back to the first floor bathroom, ignoring Millicent's accusing stare as she did so.
The wall sconces had all been lit in the washroom, their flickering amber glow against the backdrop of ceramic tiles creating an atmosphere of surprising warmth. A vase of ferns had been placed on the corner of one of the sinks in order to spruce up the space. Drawn to the greenery, Astoria tucked her hair behind her shoulder and bent close enough to bring her nose to the ferns, testing for scent.
The wooden door behind her rattled and slammed open, disturbing Astoria's moment of much needed serenity.
"Ria!" Tracey squealed enthusiastically. "What happened to you? We must have lost you in the garden!"
"I was talking to Cassandra," said Astoria, uncomfortably aware of the fact that Tracey had just used the nickname that Maudlin had given her as a child. Astoria righted herself, letting her hair fall back into its formally arranged symmetry.
"Oh?" quirked Tracey, eyes shining wickedly. "About what?"
"Nothing," Astoria answered stiffly.
Tracey quirked an eyebrow before continuing into one of the stalls. "Has she given you a task yet?" Tracey called out. "You know, the thing she wants you to do in order to 'prove yourself'?"
"No," Astoria lied smoothly, feeling her pulse quicken as she adjusted her garnet earbobs in the reflective surface of the mirror. "Has she given you one?"
"Mhmm," Tracey admitted.
"What is it?" Astoria asked quickly, selfishly fearing that it might have something to do with herself.
"I'm not supposed to tell," said Tracey coyly, reemerging from her stall over the sound of the toilet flushing.
"So?" Astoria sneered. "Since when do you keep secrets with Cassandra?"
"Since never, but she specifically told me not to tell you," said Tracey, shooing Astoria aside tipsily so that she could access the faucet. "If you really want to know, I'm supposed to play spy and find out all that I can about Roland Yaxley."
Astoria snorted. "Well that's nothing. Just tell her that he's a dull sports enthusiast and she'll know everything there is to be found out about him."
Tracey laughed, drying her hands on a carefully folded linen hand towel. "She's probably saving something awful for you, if she hasn't given you a task yet," Tracey mused happily, pinching color into her already brandy-red cheeks. "I wonder why she was so adamant that I didn't tell you what she wanted from me? Do you think it's because Roland is your cousin?"
"Probably," Astoria agreed, privately thankful that she had never decided to explain the complicated Lestrange-Yaxley inheritance yarn to Tracey. "You should tell her that Roland only falls for women who are loud and impertinent," Astoria smirked. "Send her at him armed with the worst advice imaginable."
Tracey laughed. "You know I would, but she'd probably see to it that I was banished to Durmstrang as punishment. Everyone knows that I only got into this sorority in the first place because you helped me. I'm already on thin ice."
"Nobody knows that except Cassandra," said Astoria bracingly. "You shouldn't think of it that way. Once you're a member, you're a member for life. There is nothing Cassandra can do to get rid of you."
Tracey met Astoria's gaze in the mirror and smiled mischievously. "Well, maybe one white lie couldn't hurt."
The Weird Sisters were playing a slow song when they reentered the hall. Conscious of the fact that Ernie Macmillian was standing a few feet away and eyeing her boldly, Astoria made quick work of pulling Tracey along behind the dance floor, afraid that Ernie would stop her and ask for a dance if she dallied.
Theodore, possessing a quiet knack for observation that Astoria would never be equal to, had been quite right to suggest that Astoria begin her search near the refreshment table. Maudlin was standing next to a glistening silver tap that seemed to control the flow of dark purple fluid, and chatting animatedly with none other than Roland Yaxley himself.
Tracey pinched the inside of Astoria's arm at this provoking sight, snickering drunkenly.
Feeling that the time for artful subterfuge was not in the middle of a packed ballroom however, Astoria shot Tracey a quelling look.
"Astoria!" called Maudlin, spotting her and Tracey over Roland's shoulder. "I've been looking for you everywhere!"
Astoria and Tracey approached. Astoria was cautious as new mother stumbling upon a den of tiger cubs but Tracey was as loose as a wayward sail.
"Astoria," said Roland smoothly, his mild eyes registering something like faint surprise as they flicked between Astoria and Maudlin.
"Roland," Astoria answered, her tone equally as serene, beginning to resent Tracey for needing so much physical assistance. "Are you here with the ministry party?"
"I am," answered Roland lazily, "and what a sorry lot they've sent! I ate dinner between Ludo Bagman and one of Arthur Weasley's dozen sons. I think Barty calls him Wetherby."
"Percy," Astoria corrected, trying very hard not to smirk at this because she could see Percy out of the corner of her eye, actively shaking hands with Viktor Krum rather pompously.
"Do you want to dance or should we find Alec first?" asked Maudlin, heedless of Tracey's inebriated amusement and uneven gait.
"Alec, I should think," said a high, clear voice behind Astoria, causing Tracey to swivel about and almost lose her footing. Cassandra smiled at Astoria cooly. "Davis looks as though she would be better off acquainted with a chair somewhere, if you know what I mean."
Maudlin laughed lightly. Spotting Tracey's inappropriateness at last, he plucked up his drink from the bar behind him. "We have a table near the ice sculpture..." he trailed off, his head swiveling as he tried to spot Alec's shock of blonde hair.
"Actually, will you take her, Maudlin?" asked Astoria politely but firmly, stealing her will against Cassandra's icy gaze. "I was going to help myself to punch first."
"Oh," remarked Maudlin in surprise, suddenly obligated to take Tracey's arm because she had already launched herself at him. "Well, alright."
"Are two you here together?" asked Roland, gesturing between Astoria and Maudlin curiously. "I had no idea you knew each other. I suppose because of your mother, Astoria-"
"Yes," Astoria confirmed, speaking before Maudlin could seize the chance to make a comment about Astoria's childhood pigtails. "Although I'm afraid we've each worn a slightly different shade of purple, haven't we?"
Maudlin's eyes ghosted over Astoria's face, perhaps caught off guard by the idea that Astoria might willingly own up to being his date so thoroughly. The notion could not have entirely displeased him however, because he went on, "Nonsense, I've always thought you looked lovely in lilac. We'll be in the corner by the ice statue."
Astoria smiled at Maudlin radiantly, causing him to blink uncertainly several times before steadying the hand his drink was in and helping Tracey across the room.
Astoria turned her eyes back onto Roland and Cassandra, her smile still carefully set. Cassandra, either because of the way Astoria had just dispatched Maudlin like a servant or because of the fact that she had chosen to linger behind on purpose, was watching Astoria with sharp, hostile eyes.
"Do you miss Hogwarts, Roland?" asked Astoria conversationally, gently removing a punch glass from the artful tower they had been stacked into, resolving to move as though she was in no rush whatsoever.
"Not terribly," admitted Roland dryly, "and when I do, it's only for the quidditch."
"Oh, that's right," Astoria recalled smugly, "you're quite a sports enthusiast."
Behind Roland, Ludo Bagman was excusing himself from the staff table. For a quick moment, Astoria thought he might be looking at Roland, but then his eyes fell on Astoria and stuck there.
"Look at that, the ice bowl is all the way on the other side of the table," said Cassandra cooly, knowing that Astoria would have to leave them in order to reach it. "Poor Kitty, common sense seems to escape her. Perhaps next time, I'll have to ask for your help decorating, Astoria."
Whether this was a threat or a shameless way of ingratiating herself with Roland, Astoria could not tell. What she did know what that Ludo Bagman was wading through the crowd toward them and Astoria did not want to have to converse with him next to Cassandra or Roland.
"That's alright, I don't need ice," said Astoria, dropping a lime into her punch for good measure. "If you'll excuse me."
Astoria nodded politely to Cassandra and to Roland, noticing as she did so that he was gazing in the direction of Maudlin's retreating back with just perceivable interest.
There, thought Astoria stubbornly, using the ice sculpture as a compass. Boss me around all you like. See what good it will do you in the end.
Maudlin's table was very noisy, to the point that Astoria could tell, even from a distance, that they would all be better off outside where they would draw less notice. Blaise and Tracey were sharing a glass of the stolen Brandy underneath the table and Luc was attempting to tell a story about one of his great uncles, but he did not appear to be doing a very good job holding his audience. Astoria slipped in among them with a surge of almost pleasurable anxiety.
"How do you know Roland Yaxley?" asked Maudlin quizzically, the moment Astoria had sat down.
Across the table, Astoria felt Draco's attention switch from Luc to Maudlin, his body shifting slightly in his seat so that he could watch their exchange without having sit up straight and ruin his sprawling pretense of lazy nonchalance.
"He's a cousin, actually," Astoria answered swiftly, not wanting to discuss the matter in front of Pansy or Blaise.
"Is he?" remarked Maudlin. "On your mother's side or your father's?"
"My mother's," said Astoria evasively. "It's distant."
"Was he talking to Cassandra?" asked Pansy pertly, quickly catching on to the conversation just as Astoria had known she would.
"Yes," Astoria answered, actually preferring talk of Cassandra over an interrogation into her family blood line. "They're by the drinks table."
"Ooh!" Pansy giggled. "Come on, Flora. Let's get more punch so we can eavesdrop!"
Astoria watched them both go, cackling like hags together, not at all sorry to see them leave.
Astoria's eyes strayed toward Draco furtively, uncomfortably conscious of the fact that, at some point throughout the evening, she was going to have to devise a way to corner and kiss him without raising a fuss.
After all, Astoria might have a cousinship with Roland on her side- not to mention an old friendship with Maudlin- but Cassandra held the real trump card. It was one thing for Astoria to silently taunt Cassandra in front of Roland near the drinks bowl, but actually allowing her to run to Dumbledore with proof of Astoria's blackmail-worthy crimes was another matter entirely. It was a risk Astoria was not willing to take, especially when she thought of Fred and George, dancing up a storm and completely unaware of the present danger they were in because of Astoria's rude mouth.
Draco swept his thumb across the bridge of his nose and leaned back further in his chair, laughing snidely at something Alec had just said. Astoria watched him quietly, trying not to think about how very closely he resembled his father in formal wear. Draco said something in return that must have been very funny to anyone who was actually listening as well, because Tracey and Blaise both burst into peals of laughter. Almost instinctually, Draco's eyes darted toward Astoria to judge her reaction. Not wanting to be caught staring, Astoria quickly arranged her face into something resembling an amused smile
If Astoria's smile had actually been closer to a grimace, Draco did not seem to notice. His eyes returned to Alec, brightened by a sense of smugness.
Tracey was trying to sip from the glass of illicit Brandy while it was still in Blaise's hand and she slipped halfway out of her seat with a squeal.
"We should go back to the garden," said Maudlin, eyeing the teacher's table nervously. Several of the Hogwarts professors were trying to enjoy themselves by dancing or mingling but a sturdy few had remained seated, watching the sea of students hawkishly.
No one could argue against this so, without waiting for Pansy, Flora or Cassandra to return, they evacuated the hall as quietly as they could with Tracey (who seemed to have developed an extra set of feet) in their midst.
The tepid, wind-swept paths outside were something of a balm against the noisy, warmth of the dance floor. Astoria took several calming breaths of the snowy air, anxious to purge herself of Cassandra's menacing influence so that she could be at her most charming; dimly aware of the fact that the Yule Ball was supposed to be fun, and that she was not having any.
Blaise took over as navigator, winding his way through the collection of wild shrubbery and statuary with a sense of purpose. Moments later, they all came out of the thin gravel walk they had been traveling on into a wide circle of bushes. In the center of these bushes was the fountain that Astoria had heard earlier, its bubbling waters catching the illumination of the many fairy lights in a dazzling, otherworldly display of diamond-bright luminescence.
Lacking any sense of self-consciousness, Tracey promptly kicked off her shoes and tested the temperature of the water with her toes. Astoria went over to sit on the fountain beside her, trailing her fingers through the icy ebb and flow of the stream from one of the jets.
Blaise handed Tracey the glass of brandy from behind and went to talk with the boys. Astoria waited for the moment when he was no longer looking before gently taking the drink from Tracey, afraid that she might fall into the fountain if she drank any more.
"We should have gone to Monaco for Christmas," Maudlin was saying. "It's all your fault, Alec, for starting off on the wrong foot with Karkoroff. If had known that my father was going to buy the boat, I might have just left you here and taken anyone else who wanted to go..."
"Blaise told me he liked my Christmas card, " Tracey whispered loudly in Astoria's ear, giggling under her breath.
"Did he?" demanded Astoria, laughing heartily at this. Astoria took a small sip of the brandy that Blaise had left them; a subconscious attempt to join Tracey on whatever plane of delighted existence she seemed to be living in.
"Well, no," Tracey corrected, still sniggering. "He told me he was amused by the Christmas card, but same difference, right?"
Astoria did not have the heart to answer this truthfully, so she splashed a handful of chilly water at Tracey's feet instead.
"Who goes boating in December, anyway?" countered Alec unapologetically. "We'll go in the spring."
Astoria found herself watching Draco again, fortified slightly by the brandy and the night air, which seemed much colder now that she had spent an hour sweating inside the Great Hall. Astoria was just going to have to catch Draco alone. That seemed as though it would the most difficult part; separating him from the rest without making a scene.
Draco turned and caught Astoria staring at him for a second time out of the corner of his eye. Instead of jumping or grimacing, Astoria forced herself to smile at him softly, not wanting to stimulate Draco's already over-active tendency toward suspicion.
"Why else would he say the card was amusing, if he didn't like it?" wondered Tracey, mercifully giving Astoria something else to look at. "Do you think he kept it?"
"Probably," Astoria admitted, although for what purpose, she did not care to guess.
"That has to be cold," drawled Draco, coming up behind them.
The fountain was cold, but Astoria had left her fingers submerged in the water long enough to dull her senses against the deadening chill.
"Maybe we're just braver than you are, Draco," sang Tracey, kicking her feet about in the ankle deep water joyfully.
"Or maybe it's the brandy," commented Astoria, smirking slyly.
"What are we even doing right now?" called out Tracey needfully, clearly wishing that it was Blaise who had come to join them instead of Draco. "We should play a game."
"Like what?" scoffed Draco, eyeing the water cautiously. "Marco-polo?"
"We're in a maze, aren't we?" chirped Tracey, eyes gleaming. "What about hide and seek?"
"You want to play a kids game?" sneered Luc, finally seeming to realize that half of the group had defected toward running water.
"Luc can be 'it'," Tracey insisted, smirking wickedly.
"I'll play," volunteered Blaise swiftly. "What's the prize for winning?"
Maudlin, who was secretly very fond of competitions despite his dislike of exercise, began contemplating this idea at once.
"The winners get bragging rights," stated Astoria firmly, hating the idea of voluntarily putting herself at yet another person's mercy that evening.
There was a bit of grumbling about this but as nobody could think of a decent prize, Luc was soon forced toward the fountain and turned about so that he was staring in the direction of the castle.
"Count to one hundred," Tracey commanded him, seeming to take a perverse amount of pleasure in bossing Luc about. "No peeking, or else we'll dunk you in the fountain."
Maudlin laughed at Tracey's unexpected bit of abuse and positioned himself next to one of the many walkways leading off the circle of rose bushes that they were standing in.
Astoria finished half of the drink in her hand, looking about hurriedly for a place to put the still half-full glass down before she was obligated to run.
Seeing her distress, Draco plucked the drink from Astoria's hand, finished it off and then tossed the glass to Blaise, who was guilty of stealing the brandy in the first place. Blaise scowled, not wanting to be responsible for the punch cup either, but there was no time for him to complain.
"One- Two- Three-" began Luc, sounding very harassed, clearly embarrassed by the prospect of being caught alone, counting out loud to himself in the garden once the rest of them had slipped away.
Quick as lightning, Tracey yanked Astoria down one of the narrow paths, giggling as they dodged past a statue of a frog wearing a crown. Astoria had privately been hoping to mark which path Draco took, feeling as though this was probably the best chance she would be given all night to catch him on his own, but Tracey had been too quick for her.
Thankfully, Astoria's shoes did not allow her to run as fast as Tracey could and when they reached a fork in the trail, Tracey went right and Astoria decided to go left.
After a swift race down another long walkway, Astoria slowed to a trot, conscious of how noisy she must be jogging along on the pea stone. The light snow that had been falling all night was becoming steadily wetter. Large flakes now clung to her hair and dampened her warm cheeks. Astoria pressed onward, taking stock of her situation as calmly as she knew how.
If she managed to find Draco, she would do the best she could to reason with him. If Astoria couldn't find him, there was nothing more she could do and she would simply have to try to reason with Cassandra again.
Perhaps Ragnuk was not above kidnap, if Astoria told him that Cassandra was planning on doing something that might draw attention toward his goblin clan? Wasn't it very possible that this was the sort of thing goblins might do?
Astoria shook her head, startled and a little sickened by the dark train of her own thoughts. Cassandra was still a human being, after all. Despite how loathsome Cassandra was, Astoria was not willing to sic a pack of goblins on an her, no matter how richly deserved a punishment it might be.
Stunned by the apparent black swirl of her subconscious and not paying proper attention to the path, Astoria turned the corner and ran headlong into something very solid.
Draco staggered, turning about to look at her in surprise, his face glowing faintly in the dark like a sign from above.
Astoria blinked, realizing for the first time that she must have moved a fair distance away from the castle, because there were hardly any fairy-lights here. The shadowy darkness of the hedges made something of an ideal hiding spot without having to duck behind or under any of the statues, but it was also slightly creepy.
"Astoria?" asked Draco, squinting at her features, which were decidedly less blonde and visible than his own.
"Yeah," Astoria returned in order to identify herself, half wishing that she had not run into him after all.
The sound of feet on the other side of the bushes made both of them pause. Astoria ducked closer to a stone column, shaking snow out of her her hair. A frozen mist was rolling in and Astoria could no longer make out the lights of the distant castle.
"How big is this garden?" Astoria wondered quietly, peering through the leaves of the nearest rose hedge. It was nearly eight feet tall and certainly more closely resembled a maze wall than a marker in a cheerful walking garden. Astoria was just barely able to see the path behind it. Deserted. Whoever had just sprinted by had kept moving.
"Big enough for you to get lost in with Cassandra earlier," sneered Draco accusingly. "I suppose you told her everything that you told me?"
Astoria tore her eyes away from the towering hedges, wondering idly if one of the forthcoming Triwizard Tasks would involve a maze of some kind, because it almost seemed as though someone had used the edges of the fairy garden for practice.
"I told her," Astoria admitted, slightly thankful that Draco had brought Cassandra up, as it seemed to lead things in a direction that suited her. "Why wouldn't I?"
"I could have done something, if you had just waited, you know," snapped Draco resentfully, breaking the agitated silence. "If I say anything now, she'll think I teamed up with you on purpose. Don't come crying to me for help tomorrow. You're on your own."
Astoria tried not to contemplate this because the idea of ruining such a simple fix was frustrating beyond measure.
"I'm going to need you to kiss me, Draco," said Astoria, trying very hard not to smirk. Something about Draco's agitation seemed to make the scenario seem almost humorously foolish and Astoria was much more comfortable channeling her awkwardness into amusement than embarrassment.
"Yeah? You think so?" sneered Draco nastily, his features un-readable in the poorly lit darkness. "So you can run around telling people how pathetic I am for letting you talk me into touching you for my cousin's benefit? That's likely."
"I'll tell her that I tricked you, if you want," said Astoria pertly, the same stupid grin refusing to fall off her face.
"Because that's so much better?" spat Draco, pride-hurt and visibly agitated in the light of a single, lingering fairy.
"You can tell her that I begged, if that suits you better," Astoria tried quietly, edging closer.
Draco's agitation seemed to triple. Astoria caught the cuff of his sleeve, not willing to risk letting him slip away.
"Is this funny to you?" he snapped at last, his tone raw with repressed confusion and shame.
Astoria paused, chilled by the tone of his voice, realizing at last that it was not Cassandra's influence that was causing Draco distress. It was the possibility that Astoria might use his vulnerability against him later on to make fun of him that was grating on Draco, and this was the notion she would have to put to rest.
Astoria held her breath, letting her eyes flutter closed for an instant. Dimly, Astoria realized that the only way to get what she wanted without abusing Draco was to give up any pretense of playing a game. A strange alchemy was taking place; part of Astoria was urging her body to become soft and lovely, while a powerful sense of misapprehension was screaming its warning into Astoria's suddenly still limbs.
"What's so awful about Cassandra thinking you've teamed up with me on purpose, anyway?" asked Astoria quietly.
"Are you kidding?" scoffed Draco nasally, going rather still himself.
"You told me yourself that you only see her once or twice a year," Astoria reminded him, her hand moving irresistibly from his sleeve to the front of his shirt, no longer smirking or repressing laughter. "Maybe my team is better."
This was something Astoria had always been very careful about; the insinuation that there was any kind of unspoken loyalty between Draco and herself. The way that Astoria had selected Tracey for a friend in third year, had written to Ursula Flint instead of Narcissa Malfoy for a recommendation letter, had gone out of her way to avoid verbally abusing Professor Moody and refused Draco's offer to take her to the Yule Ball all served a common purpose. Astoria had literally spent years skirting around any action that might result in having to truly rely on him for anything, because she knew full well that he stood firmly behind just about everything that caused Astoria distress in the world.
Draco was an unkind teenager, who would doubtlessly grow into an even less kind man, Astoria reminded herself. He had the same views on life that had seen Astoria's mother imprisoned and torn her formative years apart.
There was a reason that they weren't really on the same team, Astoria reflected further, and she didn't know what she was doing by even loosely insinuating that they should be. It was a bit like playing with gunpowder next to a fireplace. For a teetering second, Astoria couldn't quite bring herself to look at him, trying to think of a way to express what she wanted to say without saying something that she didn't mean.
"Draco, just-" Astoria breathed out exasperatedly, losing track of what she was saying because the act of saying his name so close to his ear had caused a strange, shivering warmth to spread across her cheeks.
Draco had fully frozen now, his head slightly bowed, and his gaze drawn inward. At a loss, Astoria turned and pressed her lips against the nearest part of his face, somewhere between the corner of his mouth and his nose.
The effect was immediate and almost stupefying. It was as though somebody had seized Astoria's insides with an invisible fist. Draco made a weird sound in the back of his throat. A snowflake melted from her hair and landed on her arm with a cold plop, but Astoria hardly noticed because Draco had twitched his mouth toward her instinctually.
Everything about the warm neediness of his face was startling, even if she had asked for it. She could feel Draco reaching for the rest of her with a kind of fumbling desperation, unable to gain a solid purchase on the space that Astoria occupied in the world.
Then, suddenly, what had been overzealous and frantic seemed to smooth itself slightly. Astoria tilted her head back, willingly embracing the invasion. One of Draco's hands slid into the hollow between her arm and waist, trying to pull her away from the creeping rose vines. Astoria leaned into him, choosing not to rationally focus on the fact the Draco's tongue was in her mouth, because everything about the way she was angling her body seemed to be permitting it and she was not sure what to do with that information anyway.
After a long moment, Draco's choppy breathing against her hair slowly became a thing of fascination. If the way he smelled was making Astoria push back against him on sloppy tiptoes, he did not seem to mind in the slightest or feel any inclination to make her stop.
Paralyzed with giddy anxiety, Astoria was suddenly no longer sure whether she was more inclined to jerk away from Draco or climb him like a totem pole. Next moment, it didn't matter, because Astoria had lost her footing on the slant beside the path. She stumbled about a foot toward the stone column, taking Draco with her down one lurching step, still clutching at his shirt.
Draco blinked at Astoria in astonishment, perhaps a little ashamed by the wetly enthusiastic way he had just attacked her face, so much so that he did not even seem to be gratified by the accomplishment.
Astoria's head remained fuzzy. The silk of her dress, a thin as butterfly wings, seemed to be sucking up all of the cold in the space between their bodies again like a sponge. Astoria's skin prickled with the chill, leaving her feeling curiously raw. It was as though Astoria had been inches away from the brink of some greater self-understanding, only to end up yanked away again at the last second. Astoria could not help but feel unfinished and a little robbed.
Somehow, touching Draco seemed to take the many sensations that Astoria attributed to him and pin them together into something more understandable, like pages in a book and she was suddenly afraid to let him get away. Astoria highly doubted that she would ever be dared to kiss him again, after all, she was quite unwilling to begin making out with him recreationally, outside the black and white confines of a challenge.
Before Draco could sneer, or say anything to save face, Astoria leaned in and kissed his astonished mouth a second time. Cassandra's task had already been met, making whatever Astoria was trying to do a little unexplainable, but Astoria had not quite found what was that she was searching for and she was determined not to let her own embarrassment thwart her.
Perhaps, because he no longer entirely understood her purpose, Draco's breathing hitched and he seemed oddly hesitant to grab hold of her. Astoria shimmied in along the length of his arm until it seemed obvious that hers would have to go around his neck. She didn't have to pull on him because he seemed to be magnetically attached to her already, his movements becoming very heavy and stupid, much less mechanical and somehow softer for it.
Astoria's back bumped against the stone column behind her before they both flattened against it. Twice, because Astoria' shoes were wobbly in the grass, Draco missed her mouth between short gasps of air and kissed her face instead. Amazed by her lack of disgust, Astoria gave up trying stand evenly and let Draco push her against the wall instead.
Somewhere in the maze, Blaise Zabini was probably creeping about between rose bushes. Tracey was peeking over a statue and laughing to herself in Astoria's imagination, while Alec had wandered to the the edge of the garden with that zippo of his, flicking it open and then shut again.
At the same moment Draco's fingers found her hair, Astoria heard voices again on the other side of the hedge. Astoria's yelp was lost against Draco's mouth. Her own hands had been inside Draco's suit jacket but she quickly used them to shove away from him, as startled by the longing way that Draco had just tried to touch her face as she was by the approaching voices.
"It's dark back here," said Maudlin. The accompanying sound of someone else tripping on the path followed by Tracey's laughter cut through the silence, and Astoria understood that she was the one who was stumbling.
"Where did all the fairies go?" Tracey asked.
"Look how tall the hedges are," drawled Blaise. "They can't fly that high."
The light of a flickering lumos charm came around the corner. Astoria had moved far enough away from Draco to disguise her guilt, but she did not dare look at his face.
"Oh!" said Maudlin, spotting Astoria in the dark with a look of satisfaction. "Good! It's Astoria and Draco. What the hell happened to Alec?"
"Don't know," drawled Draco cooly. "We haven't seen anybody else."
Astoria relaxed slightly, relived that Draco's tone wasn't flustered or suspicious.
"Did Luc find you?" asked Astoria, a little surprised that all three of them were walking about together with their wands lit.
"No," scoffed Maudlin. "The garden is huge. He probably gave up in order to drink and prowl after Cassandra and Yaxley in the Great Hall."
Tracey was clutching Blaise's arm happily but Blaise's eyes were on Astoria, observant in a way that Maudlin was not. Blaise had walked in on Astoria and Draco alone in a dark place more than once before and she could tell that the fact the he had done so yet again was not lost on him.
"Alright, Blaise?" snapped Draco warningly, noticing the way that he and Astoria seemed to be maintaining eye contact.
"Yeah," Blaise shrugged, his shoulders raising fluidly like the corners of his lips. "Why wouldn't I be?"
0o0
The Great Hall was louder than it had been when they had left. Alec had found a couple of Durmstrang girls in blood-red dresses to dance with with that Astoria at first took for twins. Both girls were dancing shyly, glancing at each other nervously but Alec seemed to take his rhythmic buoyancy from the same school of thought as Fred and George and the picture that they painted together was so hilarious that Astoria could not even be mad at Alec for abandoning the garden unannounced.
Luc was still nowhere to be seen. Astoria to wondered briefly if he might not have simply tripped over a statue of a woodland squirrel and was perhaps currently lying alone in the fairy-lit darkness, cursing all of their names. It was a mark of how little anyone seemed to care about Luc that nobody suggested looking for him.
Pansy, Cassandra and Flora were all sitting at a nearby table, their heads very close together, whispering animatedly. Flora looked up and nudged Pansy in the side, pointing toward Draco in the doorway. Flooded with awkwardness at the idea of having to stand next to Draco and Pansy at the same time, Astoria's eyes spun across the room, searching desperately for a distraction before they lit on Theodore in a far corner.
"Where are you going?" asked Maudlin curiously, a smirk breaking out across his handsome features as he took in Alec's dancing partners. "Look at Alec, the fool!"
"I'll be back," Astoria assured him, trying to ignore the way Draco's head had turned intently when she had moved to slip away as well, wanting to be as far away from him as possible before Pansy swept in.
Astoria slid around a cluster of boys, who were attempting to form a mosh pit, and quickly lost herself in the crowd. Not far away, Emilie and Daphne were dancing together, giggling in an earnest, whole-hearted way that nearly broke Astoria's heart. How long had it been since she had been able to interact with her sister so easily?
Theodore was slouching near one of Cassandra's cascading lily arrangements. Astoria started in that direction but she was intercepted by a beaming Ludo Bagman.
"Miss Greengrass, is it?" he asked jovially, his round face lit up with boyish delight.
"I'm sorry," said Astoria boldly, afraid of what Bagman might or might not think was appropriate to say in such a public place, very aware of the fact that Astoria could not be certain who was listening. "Have we met?"
"No," said Ludo, wagging a finger at her, "but I believe that we may have friends in common."
"Is that so," asked Astoria cooly, hoping that Bagman would be smart enough to do no more than elude to his spot of trouble with the goblins.
"Oh, yes," chuckled Ludo, taking a handkerchief out of his magnificent purple robes to dab at his splotchy red cheeks. "It's as I say, it occasionally pays to have friends in low places, doesn't it?"
Bagman chuckled at his own joke and Astoria could only assume that he had been making a crack about the trifling height of the average goblin.
"I suppose," said Astoria slowly, trying to guess what Bagman might want so that she could address the matter without him having to say something obvious or foolish.
"Listen now," said Bagman, taking her by the arm with a surprisingly ungentle swiftness. "I didn't become the Head of the Department for International Games and Sports just because I used to play a spot of quidditch-" Ludo broke off to chortle again. "I've got my fair share of hobbies and far be it from me to try to persuade anyone to give up anything that they think is fun-"
Astoria had move uncomfortably close to Bagman in order to avoid being stepped on by Anthony Goldstein and Katherine Macdougal.
"Of course not," said Astoria sharply, wanting badly for Bagman to release her arm.
"-but there is a difference between fun and abuse, isn't there?" asked Bagman, the smile slipping down his round face until he was gazing at her almost nervously. "Men like me, we have to be careful about that sort of thing. Sometimes people want things that we can't give them..."
He knew that Astoria had paid off his debt to Hodrod, this much was clear, and if his nervousness was anything to go on, Astoria imagined he was probably trying to figure out what Astoria wanted in return for that favor.
It was a peculiar moment made even stranger by the vast gap between their ages. After all, Astoria was a student and Bagman was a Ministry official. That he should owe Astoria such a large sum of money because of an illegal scheme was so very odd that it bordered on preposterous.
Astoria was not the type of person who could easily take pleasure in another person's fear however, no matter how much of a bizarre stroke to her ego the situation almost was. Astoria had spent much of her of own year in a state of active fear, and she could not help but be slightly sympathetic to Bagman's plight.
"I think I know what friends you're talking about," said Astoria widely, pointedly removing her arm from Bagman's grasp. "I can't say that I'm overly fond of them."
"I see," said Bagman slowly, his chin quivering slightly.
"They're not very nice-" Astoria wavered, because she had been about to say 'people' and had realized at the last moment that the goblins were not even that. "I don't like being menaced," Astoria started again. "Perhaps we can be friends without them? Are you menacing, Mr. Bagman?"
"Why, no..." said Bagman, catching her meaning and brightening considerably. "Of course not! I quite agree with you. Blasted thing when fun stops being enjoyable, isn't it?"
"And you wouldn't want to get anyone into trouble even if you could, would you?" Astoria prompted. If the goblins or someone like Cassandra bring my name up in front of the Ministry, you'll be in charge of the inquiries, Astoria continued with her eyes. Remember that I helped you.
"Oh, never!" exclaimed Bagman lightly. "There's enough trouble in the world as it is!"
Astoria beamed at him. There's a good chap.
"If you don't mind," Astoria started, catching sight of Theodore again, intending to use him as an excuse to escape.
"It might interest you to know something," began Bagman swiftly, not quite done with her yet. "Professor Dumbledore's friend, Igor Karkoroff? He has similar hobbies."
Astoria frowned, unsure why Bagman would tell her this, feeling no more inclination to strike up dealings of any kind with Karkoroff than she had before.
"I've gotten into a spot of bother with him quite similar to what, well, you know- what happened with the other ones," Bagman waved his hand, his ability to talk in thinly veiled code nearly exasperated.
Astoria's frown deepened. Was Bagman suggesting that he was in debt to Igor Karkoroff as well, and that he was secretly hoping that Astoria might help bail him out a second time?
"I don't know what you mean," said Astoria carefully, her tone much less friendly.
"He's a dangerous fellow," said Bagman, eyeing her very steadily, almost as though he was trying to decide upon whether or not to tell her something. "Not a man to cross. I'm very sorry that I ever trusted him."
"That's too bad," said Astoria slowly, sincerely hoping that Bagman would not try to hold her hostage in order to present a pitiful case for himself that Astoria would have no choice but to largely ignore.
"Yes, it is," Bagman lamented, watching her closely. "Of course, it may turn out that I've been very silly to let such things worry me. He'll be leaving soon, I'd wager."
Astoria could hardly see how Igor Karkoroff's return to his post at Durmstrang would stop him from trying to collect Bagman's money, but it didn't seem to be Astoria's place to say so.
"Yes, I suppose he will," said Astoria vaguely.
"I hear he's been having a spot of trouble with his left arm," continued Bagman, his tone suddenly strange and oddly intentional, each word carefully enunciated. "A nasty spot of trouble, at that. Or so some people have been saying. I myself have never had any trouble with either arm, so I'm sure that I can hardly sympathize."
Astoria stopped peering through the crowd toward Theodore and focused all of her undivided attention on Bagman's face. Surely they were speaking about arthritis...?
"Ah, it's Mr. Crouch's Wetherby!" declared Bagman happily, slinging an arm around Percy Weasley's shoulders. "And how is the old man? I haven't seen him around the office..."
"As I have been continually telling the press, Mr. Crouch is simply suffering from a bout of the flu," said Percy tightly, trying to straighten out his tie, which was now crooked from the force of Bagman's wild embrace. "You would know that, Ludo, if you bothered to check in more. I suppose you still haven't sent out a search party for poor Bertha Jorkins? Surely that would be a more productive way to focus official attention?"
Astoria slipped away, deeply chilled by the conversation she had just had. A spot of trouble with his left arm... Bagman had made such a point of specifying the left arm...
Astoria's mother might have been imprisoned when she was very young, but that had not stopped Astoria from learning the most intimate basics of Death Eater lore at a very early age. Astoria knew that the left forearm was the place that a Death Eaters could be given away by his Dark Mark if he did not hide it with care. Belladonna had told her as much when she was still in swaddling clothes. A nasty spot... Astoria did not like this one bit. Mr. Crouch is simply suffering from a bout of the flu. I suppose you still haven't sent out a search party for poor Bertha Jorkins?
Meanwhile, on a loch in Scotland, Harry Potter's name had come out of the Goblet of Fire...
Strange doings, indeed. Connected together in one conversation, Astoria could feel a veil of dread beginning to settle over her insides like a mourning shroud.
Forewarned is forearmed, Astoria told herself, shaking her head in an attempt to clear her suddenly heavy soul of this new and troublesome weight. You're a student at school. It's no matter to you.
Except that it was. Astoria thought of her mother, slowly loosing her mind in Azkaban and the room seemed to shrink.
"You alright?" asked Theodore, a tiny crease forming between his brows as he took in the look on Astoria's face.
"Yeah," said Astoria quickly, fighting to become present again.
"What did Bagman want with you," Theodore wondered suspiciously, relieved when Astoria seemed to snap-to. "He kept you over there for a long time."
"Nothing," Astoria laughed. "He's just chatty, I think. His poor assistant deserves a raise."
Theodore snorted.
"Astoria!" called Maudlin, catching up, thankfully not a minute sooner than Astoria was comfortable with. "Come dance with me."
Astoria turned to Theodore, hoping he might tag along as well, but just the idea of the dance floor seemed to fill him with primordial dread.
Maudlin was a decent dancer; not half as wild as Alec or as clinging as Tracey. Astoria was very pleased to have something to do that didn't require her to have to talk to anybody. She stayed with Maudlin for the next hour, occasionally allowing Alec to sweep in to shake things up, marveling at his ability to appear graceful even when his body was given over to a series of rhythmic fist pumps.
Draco had disappeared into the gardens again with Crabbe and Goyle long before the Weird Sisters struck up their last song at midnight. Suspecting that they were up to some fresh mischief (and thinking of the last conversation she and Tracey had accidentally overheard them having about Rita Skeeter) Astoria wisely decided to stay out of it.
By the time the last chord had been played, Cassandra was nowhere to be seen either, lost in conversation somewhere with Roland Yaxley.
Astoria brought her hands together, joining in with the rest to applaud the band, thinking longingly of her bed. People were making their way into the entrance hall now, although some were complaining loudly about the fact that the Ball could not carry on.
"Really, though!" said Maudlin quizzically, shaking his head. "Has anyone seen Luc?"
"Maybe he went to bed," suggested Alec, taking his lighter out of his pocket in preparation for the walk down to the Durmstrang ship.
"Knowing our luck, he probably fell into the lake and died," declared Maudlin, sounding curiously unfazed. "We should probably look for him on the way out."
Astoria bid them both good night, as anxious to return to her dormitory as she had ever been in her life.
The entrance hall was so full of lingering people that Astoria had trouble moving through the crowd toward the marble staircase.
Cassandra was standing in the light of the castle doorway, saying goodbye to Roland. Astoria paused to watch, mesmerized by the way the light from the hall seemed to catch upon her face, lighting up her soft, hopeful expression in a way that seemed to entirely transform her.
At that moment, Cassandra saw past Roland and caught Astoria staring at her. The moment of flawed hopefulness was gone. Cassandra twitched to the side, cocked a cruel eyebrow in her direction, and was suddenly the girl that Astoria knew again.
So? she seemed to demand.
Astoria nodded once to confirm that Cassandra's task had been met and then turned away, entirely able to properly hate her again.
Across the room, Pansy and Flora were heading in the direction of the dungeons together, a sight that struck Astoria has slightly foreboding. Whatever it was that Draco was doing in the garden with Crabbe and Goyle was him taking so long that he had not even managed to leave the ball with his date.
She'll forgive him, thought Astoria stiffly, trying to feel as impartial about this as she could, certain that Pansy would forgive Draco any slight. She wouldn't forgive you for kissing her ball date, though, thought Astoria tersely, praying that Cassandra was too self-preserving to tattle.
Astoria cut in front of Ernie Macmillian and Susan Bones, ascending the stairs as fast as she could without looking ridiculous.
0o0
Ah ha ha. Awkward first kisses. This story is starting to make me feel like a bit of a sadist.
Seriously though, I was sort of one the fence about this one. A part of me kind of wanted Astoria and Draco's first real moment to be more genuine but I think, considering their age (I feel like about a third of the population probably owes their first kiss to a dare of some kind in their formative years) this sort of scenario seemed totally plausible. If anyone does feel a little let down, I'm sorry and I promise to deliver something less 'dare-induced' the next time a similar moment rolls around!
In other news, I think I felt the first rumblings of war in this chapter and I got a little nostalgic. I'm often in a rush to try to age everybody up, but Voldemort is going to happen, guys. He's going to roll in here with a bang.
As always, reviews are an actual joy and always greatly appreciated! I seem to be on something of a weekly posting schedule right now but things might start to speed up soon. I'm moving in about a week and I think my schedule stands a chance of clearing up quite a bit!