A/N: Wai! More than two pages this time! *does happy ficcying dance* Sorry to anyone who's offended by the squishing of spiders. I wouldn't normally, but it sort of fit in with the plot. Heh, such as my plot is, anyways. :-P I've started into working in other SOB/SOBette moments. Hope you enjoy. :-D Oh, and shout out to our Fearless Leader and my cheerchic partner in crime, Thalia! :-D Thanks for all your help. Love you all!

~ Chapter 4: Best Behavior ~

Having tea with Narcissa Malfoy was like socializing with a dragon; the creature leading the way to the dining hall was elegant, graceful, proud – and capable of ripping one's head clean off without so much as breaking a perfectly manicured fingernail. But when the door had opened before them and the hidden Slytherins had come piling out onto the floor in a much less dignified manner than they would have hoped for, and the woman had done nothing more than insist they stay for tea, they of course felt they were getting a pretty nice bargain.

The girls followed Narcissa into the dining hall with all the grace and style of women born into high society. As soon as the last girl in line had entered the room, Draco stopped and swung about to cast a seething glare at his teammates. "Flint," he said brusquely, "would you mind?"

Flint cleared his throat purposefully, but was quickly disrupted by Montague. "We don't need a pep talk, Malfoy. We've all done this before. We know how to behave ourselves."

Malfoy gave the Chaser a challenging look and replied wryly, "Oh, really?"

 "All right, men," Flint began, moving to stand before the group. His duties as captain were one of his greatest pleasures in life (along with Akasha, of course), and he wasn't about to let his quarreling team deprive him of his shining moment. "You know the rules. No cursing, no shoving, no talking with your mouth full, no biting, no hexing, no bodily functions – "

"Unholy Slytherins!" Warrington interrupted. "We're only human, man!"

"Yes, we're all aware of how unholy Slytherins are," Malfoy said dryly. "That's exactly why you're being warned."

"As I was saying," Flint said, only a slightly reproachfully, "no slouching, no yelling, no snogging at the table – "

"Heh," Pucey snorted, "I think Malfoy's the only one guilty of that. Well…" He hesitated, his eyes grazing his companions with a delightedly guilty smile, "consistently, anyway."

" – and please, please, no innuendo around Draco's mum."

Several players who–shall–remain–nameless scoffed at that, but they all agreed, if a little grudgingly, and entered the room.

The bright white of the Malfoy's dining hall was enhanced by an entire wall of windows with a gorgeous view of the Manor's enchanted gardens, which just now were covered in perfect, even layers of magical snow. Streams of bright, winter sunlight illuminated the great hall in its silvery glow. The furniture, charmed to seat the number of diners, currently looked as though it were sculpted from ice, and the table was set with pearlescent dishes and glasses of lustrous crystal. The girls all seemed to be in their element, elegant and beautiful, surrounded by the rich atmosphere of Malfoy Manor. The Quidditch team filed in, taking their seats at the table. Narcissa raised her hand, and almost before she'd spoken, the table was filled with trays of delicious treats and pots of tea complete with Warming Charms.

"Where's Bole?" Derrick asked before taking a bite of a cauldron cake. Even the foods they ate nearly every night at Hogwarts tasted better in the charming Malfoy Manor.

"Kate's gone, too," Morrigun remarked, and at this, several seated near her smirked.

"Oh, I see," Pucey remarked, and he couldn't have been more obvious if he'd actually winked at someone.

"Lucky sod," Warrington remarked around a mouthful of ginger snap, for which he was kicked sharply in the shin by Fallon, who sat across the long table from him.

"Since we're on the subject," Persephone began.

"We've all heard you've got some pretty exciting plans for this vacation," Calypso finished for her friend, Derrick found himself pinned under the eager gaze of several girls.

"I – well…"

"Oh, leave the poor bloke alone," Pucey said on his teammate's behalf.

"Honestly, you're like vultures," Warrington added, jumping once more and giving Fallon a bitter look.

"We're just curious," Malice replied, pouting delightfully – well, Pucey found it delightful, at any rate.

"We just heard Derrick had plans with a girl, and we wanted to know who it was," Jeannie added defensively.

Montague nearly choked on a raspberry scone, and Warrington looked at the girls as if they'd just suggested they cover themselves in jam and go caroling to the neighbors. As for the Beater in question, Derrick seemed suddenly very preoccupied with stirring sugar into his tea.

"A girl?" Flint asked, sounding quite incredulous. And then, while the girls regarded him with raised eyebrows and skeptical looks, he began to laugh. "You mean, you don't – you all think... didn't you know Derrick's a – "

"PANSY!"

The outburst at the other end of the table caught everyone's attention, and all eyes were suddenly on Draco, who had stood up in such a rush that his chair had fallen over. Two house elves were struggling to right the chair, one of them saying meekly, "Yes, ickle Master, she's waiting in the entrance hall…"

"Well, by all means, bring her in," Narcissa said. When her son looked murderous, she countered his glare with a cool smile. "After all, it's rude to leave her waiting."

"Yes, Draco, don't be rude," Ravyn chimed in. "Invite her to join us."

Since Draco's thoughts had been more along the lines of feeding her to a Basilisk bit by bit, Ravyn's suggestion understandably startled him, especially since the black-haired girl hadn't had a conversation anywhere near "friendly" – or even in the vicinity of "civilized" - with Pansy Parkinson since the two girls had had a duel towards the beginning of term. "All right," he said with transparent geniality. "Good. Great. Fantastic! Bring her in!"

The house elves scampered away, leaving the group waiting in uneasy curiosity. There was something very wrong when Ravyn de Borgia invited Pansy Parkinson to tea. There were few possibilities: either the girl was going to extreme measures to win the favor of her boyfriend's mother, she'd gone stark raving mad, or she had some sort of weapon concealed beneath the table and was planning a surprise attack. Knowing her as they did, only the last choice seemed remotely plausible.

But in truth, that wasn't quite the case. Ravyn did have a weapon, but it was not under the table; actually, it was a few seats down from her. She and Fallon exchanged smug smirks.

~~^~~v~~^~~v~~^~~v~~^~~v~~^~~

Meanwhile, somewhere beneath the third floor…

"Bloody Manor," Kate LeFay cursed for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Trust the ruddy Malfoys to have actual trap doors."

Kevin Bole was standing a little ways away, examining the ceiling through which they had both fallen moments before. They hadn't noticed it walking over it just behind their group of friends, and it was still very well concealed; in the dim light of his Lumos spell, he could only guess exactly which section of the floor had fallen away from beneath their feet.

"Are you going to complain all day," he asked, "or are you going to help me find a way out of here?"

Kate glared at him with all the fiery passion she'd inherited from her ancestress, Morgan LeFay. "Look, Bole, I've just fallen twenty feet into Merlin knows where. Oh, but don't worry, I wasn't hurt. Luckily, this disgusting, smelly ooze broke my fall." She disdainfully indicated the carpet of thick, malodorous slime that covered the floor of their current, murky surroundings.

"Actually," he said, matching her sarcastic sentiments, "I broke your fall."

"I wouldn't suggest messing with me just now," she finished.

"I've got an idea," he told her, ignoring her warning. "But I'm going to need your help."

Kate was silent.

"I need your help… please?"

She didn't even look up, instead studying her neatly manicured nails.

He sighed to himself, moving over to where she sat. Kneeling so that they were both eye to eye, he took her hand in both of his. "Oh great goddess of the House of Slytherin, I put forth my humble plea that such a dazzling beauty might lend a poor Beater your assistance?"

She finally responded with a raised eyebrow. "What do you want, then?"

"You in my bed with a can of whip cream, but for now I'll settle for you standing over here."

"What for?" she asked dubiously.

"What, you standing here or the whipped cream?" His impudent grin faded when she glared, and he continued more soberly, "Well, judging by the giant Slytherin-shaped splat in the mud here, that's where we fell from." Gesturing at the ceiling above him to illustrate his point, he added, "So, if you'll be so kind as to come over here, I'll Levitate you up to the door and you can get us out of here."

He waited in silence as she flashed quite a skeptical look. "That's it?" she asked finally. "That's your brilliant plan? Aren't you supposed to be the smart one on the team?"

"Well, I didn't notice any brilliant ideas coming from your side of this hellhole. Wingardium leviosa!"

Kate found herself flying upwards before she could protest. It wasn't nearly as pleasant as one might imagine; she was racing upwards with no control over her own speed or direction, and the hard ceiling was growing ever closer.

"Bole, you – left, left! Stop!!"

She didn't quite miss a beam of the hard wood ceiling, and let him know quite vividly with a string of curses. "If I could see you, I'd hex you to a pulp!"

"All right," he called back good-naturedly, but would you mind if we got out of here first?"

She felt around above her head, grew impatient, aimed her wand randomly above her, and muttered, "Alohomora." The trapped door popped open with a click, and she agilely pulled herself up onto the carpeted floor above.  She grudgingly took the time to clean herself up with a spell before turning back to the hole in the floor next to her. With an irritated, "Accio Kevin!" they were both free.

"That was easy," he said brightly, looking around as if he had expected to come out in the middle of their friends' afternoon tea.

"Too easy," Kate replied. "This isn't where we were before."

She was right. They were free – and they were also incredibly lost.

~~^~~v~~^~~v~~^~~v~~^~~v~~^~~

Pansy Parkinson entered a room full of her Housemates with little more than a few harsh glances and muttered greetings, save the pleasantries exchanged with Narcissa. What intimidated her infinitely more than any of these was the welcome she got from Ravyn.

"Hello, Pansy," she said brightly. Pansy nearly choked when the girl flashed her a smile and gestured towards the empty seat that had appeared across from her at the table. The others watched the display with the same sadistic fascination with which one witnesses a dragon devouring its prey. "Do have a seat, won't you?"

"G-good afternoon, de Borgia." Pansy's uncertainty was so obvious it was practically written across her pug-like face.

Just as plain was Ravyn's delight with Pansy's apprehension. Draco, over his initial shock, was hiding the beginnings of a smirk as Pansy sat across from the pair of them. Ravyn grinned back at him, but when she spoke, she addressed Narcissa.

"So, Mrs. Malfoy, Draco tells me you're visiting the French countryside for the holidays?" She smiled sweetly, showing her mastery of refined conversation as she waited politely for the woman to respond. Not to be out done, Pansy leaned in eagerly.

Just what Ravyn had been expecting.

With Pansy and Narcissa neatly distracted, neither of them noticed Fallon producing a sleek, glass vial from her robes. Nor did they seem to see her opening the vial and removing a single spider, an intimidating ebony spot on the pure white tablecloth. And most importantly, they didn't detect her whispering the spell that would send the arachnid hurtling into the mass of blonde, crimped hair that was the back of Pansy Parkinson's head.

Not until it was too late.

Pansy seemed absorbed in her effort to appear more interested in what Narcissa Malfoy had to say than Ravyn. The fact that it was Draco's mother had very little to do with it anymore; it was purely the competition that drove her. But even this determination was broken when suddenly two black legs were feeling their way down her forehead.

Chaos broke loose, mostly on Pansy's part, as the girl sprang from her chair, flailing madly. For the moment, the eight-legged menace was lost in the excitement. However, the two menaces who had set it loose on Pansy were snickering victoriously into their napkins along with their friends. Narcissa, not loosing her dignified cool for a second in the situation, graciously escorted Pansy to the nearest restroom, leaving the others to enjoy the entertainment unobstructed.

"That," Draco said with a genuine grin, "was bloody brilliant."

"Why thank you," Ravyn said. "But I can't take all the credit. Take a bow, Fallon!"

Fallon Anderson, Mistress of All Things Deadly, stood up, preening in pleasure, and bowed to an applauding audience.

"And speaking of help, your little friend is loose around here somewhere," Morrigun remarked, casting a dubious glance around the table's surface for the spider.

"No, I've got Draco perfectly under control," Ravyn quipped, but Persephone interrupted any response Malfoy may have had to this.

"Erm… Fallon? I hate to be the one to tell you this, but…" She held up a chocolate biscuit, showing her friend the bottom, which had the imprint of one very flat, black spider, its eight legs splayed out around it.

Fallon looked slightly upset at the fact. "Oh! That slut must have squished in while she was making her huge, ugly scene…"

Ravyn only smirked. "Don't worry, hon. I know what will make you feel better." She took the cookie from Persephone and placed it appealingly near Pansy's plate. She looked back at Fallon, who now wore a smirk as evil as Ravyn's.

At that moment Narcissa entered the room, saying, "Miss Parkinson seems to be over her little – condition." The words were not said harshly, and yet somehow gave the distinct impression that the woman was not overly fond of the girl. "Tell me, Miss de Borgia," she said, taking her seat at the head of the table, "how are your parents? I haven't heard from them for a while."

Ravyn answered with a charming smile; without a doubt, she'd won the latest battle in the war she fought with Pansy daily. However, even her expression of triumph disappeared when Narcissa Malfoy reached for something none of them had expected…

A chocolate biscuit.

And not just any chocolate biscuit – the one with the special arachnid glaze, meant just for Pansy.

There was a moment of silence as fifteen pairs of Slytherin eyes watched the woman raise the treat to her lips, each too horrified to know quite what to do. And then…

"Mistress?"

One of the small house elves who'd announced Pansy's arrival had returned and was tugging gently at Narcissa's flowing robes of pale blue. She looked questioningly down at it, a slight smile softening her expression.

"Mistress, she's broken a towel rack…"

Narcissa looked up in what might have been an eye roll, which only made the statement more amusing, and once again those present were smothering their mirth. However, when Narcissa had gone, they made no attempt at this and laughed aloud.

"A towel rack? I wouldn't have expected it, not even from Parkinson…"

"I wonder how that happened."

"She probably sat on it, the cow."

"Maybe she was waiting for Draco to come rescue her."

Ravyn grinned at Draco. It was all too obvious how hard Pansy tried to get Draco's attention – so of course, she teased him about it incessantly.

"She would have been waiting for quite a while," he replied. Ravyn smiled, knowing that in some off-handed way, that had actually been a compliment meant for her. Draco had never been one for public affection. Unless, of course, it got him somewhere.

Moments later, Narcissa returned, followed by a very cross–looking Pansy. Parkinson shot a glare down the table at Fallon as she sat, as if she somehow knew she'd been the responsible for the whole spider situation. More likely, it was just Pansy's inherent dislike for the girl showing through. At any rate, Pansy took her seat, and the tea continued with little interruption.

Except when Pansy had reached for a certain chocolate biscuit that had once more been placed tantalizingly within her reach. They'd all paused in their eating to watch that.