15. …Underwear is left behind
Snape hated coming to Lucius' house. He hated the way it made the Dark Mark on his
arm burn and singe his clothing. He was only at this stupid ball because the Death Eaters
might begin to suspect that his double agent front was false (which, of course, it was) if
he didn't attend.
He sipped a glass of port, scowling at the dancing couples. Honestly, what did wizards
find so attractive about dressing up? It was a waste of time. With a wry grin, Snape noted
that not a single person had asked him about his costume – a set of black silk robes and a
black hat with a single purple feather. He was supposed to be the dark wizard
Mordreadus, but he supposed that everybody assumed he was wearing his normal
clothing.
Snape also had a second reason for being at this party. The Death Eaters traditionally
ended the night by sitting around the council table and discussing their plans for the next
year, after the ball had ended, and he had assured Dumbledore that he would uncover just
how they planned to do away with Harry Potter this time.
Suddenly the lights dimmed and Lucius stepped into the center of the room, his voice
magically echoing throughout the whole room. "…my son, Draco Malfoy!" he boomed.
Draco led his girlfriend into the center of the room and the first strains of a waltz began.
The two teenagers danced as the whole room looked on. Then, Snape heard a massive
explosion. He was thrown against the wall by an unknown force and then…blackness.
Ron was having a hard time dancing with Draco, but then, Ron was used to leading (not
that Ron had ever been particularly good at dancing, but that was beside the point). It
also wasn't helping that Draco kept doing these dramatic swirly turns so he could check
that the wrinkles had settled out of his cloak ok. Not only was Ron attracted to a boy, but
an egoist as well. Maybe that was it! Maybe all girls were egoists and that somehow
drew boys in. No, that would be too simple. Ron wrenched his thoughts back to relevant
matters just as his ankles were about to give way. Remember to step with the toe. Step
with the toe. Damn, high-heels took concentration.
Just as he was starting to get a hang of the stupid three-step, the explosion hit. It came
from along the wall, where the table and chairs that usually dominated the council room
had been pushed to make room for the guests. Ron slammed hard into Dracos embrace.
The momentum continued so that they flew a couple of yards through the air before
landing full length and sliding several more. Ron was glad he was on top. Draco was
looking a bit dazed and there was more blood on his enchanted teeth. Ron was just
starting to feel the cut along his cheekbone. Stupid teeth!
He rolled off of Draco and sat up, looking around. Noting the direction of the blast and
the fact that the conference table seemed to be located at the epicenter Ron had a brief,
disconcerting flash on a jelly sandwich before continuing his scan. It looked as though
just about all the guests had been flattened and more than half appeared unconscious.
Continuing his survey of the room, Ron decided that those were the lucky ones.
One figure remained standing, essentially due to the fact that he had been standing in
front of the far wall when the explosion occurred. It had driven him hard against the wall
so that several cracks radiated outward from his as yet frozen figure and had torn his
robes to near shreds. Only a few ragged strips managed to hang from strategic locations,
and Lucius Malfoy appeared far more dazed than his son.
A reporter for the Daily Prophet promptly appeared out of nowhere and started snapping
pictures of the entire scene. The annoying little man remained the only one in the room
with much energy until a dog just about took his leg off. Ron was only just then getting
back around to the blast side of the room and so he noticed them about the same time that
everybody else did. Ron made a mental note to remember for all of his days that when
things explode at Malfoy Manor, they produce a dozens dogs from hell. These dogs
inspired essentially two thoughts and they were, respectively: "Cerberus!?!" and
"RUN!!!" Now even the unconscious people were full of energy.
Draco was still moaning pathetically about his poor, little, bruised butt so Ron slapped
him across the face.
"Three-headed dogs, you idiot!" Ron yelled, jerking Draco's head so that he was forced
to see the reality that was upon them. If the situation hadn't been so serious Ron would
have laughed at the panicky flurry of arms and legs Draco produced trying to get up. As
it was, he was busy ditching his shoes.
By some miracle Draco retained the presence of mind to not abandon his girlfriend.
Grabbing Ron's wrist, the two fled to the nearest exit, fighting against the crush of guests
desperately trying to vacate the council chamber. Right as they made it though the door,
Ron heard the sound of three jaws snapping t on their tail and he and Draco quickly
dodged into the nearest room, slamming the door.
"Do you think someone is trying to tell us something?" Ron asked as he recognized the
small room the two once again found themselves in.
"Yes, never leave without your underwear." Draco had recovered from his shock
remarkably quickly and was holding up the lacy red thong he and Ron hadn't had time to
find before going back out for the dance.
Ron snorted before catching a sight of the window that looked into the council chamber.
Most of the guests had cleared out by now but a few were apparently trying to fight back
against the dogs, pointing their wands dramatically and shouting curses that were having
no visible effect. "I wonder if they're related to Fluffy," Ron said without thinking.
"They're my fathers council room guard dogs," Draco said, sitting down on the bench
next to Ron and beginning to toy with some strands of hair whisping about Ron's neck.
"They wont actually kill anyone but traitors against Death Eaters, though I think maiming
is a big part of their job description. Dad will probably round them up in a couple
minutes. Who's Fluffy?" He obviously didn't really care about the answer as he was now
nuzzling the base of Ron's throat.
If you're gonna go for a man, go for one with a lot of stamina I guess, Ron thought to
himself. Then, realizing his slip-up, he said, "Oh, I just heard once that Hagrid had a
three-headed dog named Fluffy. Probably just a myth, you know."
"Mnnmmnn." Draco was busy with buttons and Ron decided not to distract him any
further.
Snape hated coming to Lucius' house. He hated the way it made the Dark Mark on his
arm burn and singe his clothing. He was only at this stupid ball because the Death Eaters
might begin to suspect that his double agent front was false (which, of course, it was) if
he didn't attend.
He sipped a glass of port, scowling at the dancing couples. Honestly, what did wizards
find so attractive about dressing up? It was a waste of time. With a wry grin, Snape noted
that not a single person had asked him about his costume – a set of black silk robes and a
black hat with a single purple feather. He was supposed to be the dark wizard
Mordreadus, but he supposed that everybody assumed he was wearing his normal
clothing.
Snape also had a second reason for being at this party. The Death Eaters traditionally
ended the night by sitting around the council table and discussing their plans for the next
year, after the ball had ended, and he had assured Dumbledore that he would uncover just
how they planned to do away with Harry Potter this time.
Suddenly the lights dimmed and Lucius stepped into the center of the room, his voice
magically echoing throughout the whole room. "…my son, Draco Malfoy!" he boomed.
Draco led his girlfriend into the center of the room and the first strains of a waltz began.
The two teenagers danced as the whole room looked on. Then, Snape heard a massive
explosion. He was thrown against the wall by an unknown force and then…blackness.
Ron was having a hard time dancing with Draco, but then, Ron was used to leading (not
that Ron had ever been particularly good at dancing, but that was beside the point). It
also wasn't helping that Draco kept doing these dramatic swirly turns so he could check
that the wrinkles had settled out of his cloak ok. Not only was Ron attracted to a boy, but
an egoist as well. Maybe that was it! Maybe all girls were egoists and that somehow
drew boys in. No, that would be too simple. Ron wrenched his thoughts back to relevant
matters just as his ankles were about to give way. Remember to step with the toe. Step
with the toe. Damn, high-heels took concentration.
Just as he was starting to get a hang of the stupid three-step, the explosion hit. It came
from along the wall, where the table and chairs that usually dominated the council room
had been pushed to make room for the guests. Ron slammed hard into Dracos embrace.
The momentum continued so that they flew a couple of yards through the air before
landing full length and sliding several more. Ron was glad he was on top. Draco was
looking a bit dazed and there was more blood on his enchanted teeth. Ron was just
starting to feel the cut along his cheekbone. Stupid teeth!
He rolled off of Draco and sat up, looking around. Noting the direction of the blast and
the fact that the conference table seemed to be located at the epicenter Ron had a brief,
disconcerting flash on a jelly sandwich before continuing his scan. It looked as though
just about all the guests had been flattened and more than half appeared unconscious.
Continuing his survey of the room, Ron decided that those were the lucky ones.
One figure remained standing, essentially due to the fact that he had been standing in
front of the far wall when the explosion occurred. It had driven him hard against the wall
so that several cracks radiated outward from his as yet frozen figure and had torn his
robes to near shreds. Only a few ragged strips managed to hang from strategic locations,
and Lucius Malfoy appeared far more dazed than his son.
A reporter for the Daily Prophet promptly appeared out of nowhere and started snapping
pictures of the entire scene. The annoying little man remained the only one in the room
with much energy until a dog just about took his leg off. Ron was only just then getting
back around to the blast side of the room and so he noticed them about the same time that
everybody else did. Ron made a mental note to remember for all of his days that when
things explode at Malfoy Manor, they produce a dozens dogs from hell. These dogs
inspired essentially two thoughts and they were, respectively: "Cerberus!?!" and
"RUN!!!" Now even the unconscious people were full of energy.
Draco was still moaning pathetically about his poor, little, bruised butt so Ron slapped
him across the face.
"Three-headed dogs, you idiot!" Ron yelled, jerking Draco's head so that he was forced
to see the reality that was upon them. If the situation hadn't been so serious Ron would
have laughed at the panicky flurry of arms and legs Draco produced trying to get up. As
it was, he was busy ditching his shoes.
By some miracle Draco retained the presence of mind to not abandon his girlfriend.
Grabbing Ron's wrist, the two fled to the nearest exit, fighting against the crush of guests
desperately trying to vacate the council chamber. Right as they made it though the door,
Ron heard the sound of three jaws snapping t on their tail and he and Draco quickly
dodged into the nearest room, slamming the door.
"Do you think someone is trying to tell us something?" Ron asked as he recognized the
small room the two once again found themselves in.
"Yes, never leave without your underwear." Draco had recovered from his shock
remarkably quickly and was holding up the lacy red thong he and Ron hadn't had time to
find before going back out for the dance.
Ron snorted before catching a sight of the window that looked into the council chamber.
Most of the guests had cleared out by now but a few were apparently trying to fight back
against the dogs, pointing their wands dramatically and shouting curses that were having
no visible effect. "I wonder if they're related to Fluffy," Ron said without thinking.
"They're my fathers council room guard dogs," Draco said, sitting down on the bench
next to Ron and beginning to toy with some strands of hair whisping about Ron's neck.
"They wont actually kill anyone but traitors against Death Eaters, though I think maiming
is a big part of their job description. Dad will probably round them up in a couple
minutes. Who's Fluffy?" He obviously didn't really care about the answer as he was now
nuzzling the base of Ron's throat.
If you're gonna go for a man, go for one with a lot of stamina I guess, Ron thought to
himself. Then, realizing his slip-up, he said, "Oh, I just heard once that Hagrid had a
three-headed dog named Fluffy. Probably just a myth, you know."
"Mnnmmnn." Draco was busy with buttons and Ron decided not to distract him any
further.