If I'd felt temporarily taken away from the pureblood wealth socialite world for the three months after Hogwarts finished til now, I was definitely back in the zone at the Malfoy's ball tonight.

Their marble columned stone hall had been decorated with floating lights and dark green and white flowers. The seven and five petaled flowers were an emerald green, darkening near the centre and bleeding white towards the edges. Long white stamens of green and white peeled away from the centre and flicked all around. Their hidden message was not lost on me. Decorations at socialite events often meant things, a cry of what the heart was feeling inside. It was one of the few ways to express oneself in this society where many things had to be hidden.

Green was for Slytherin and also the fact that it was a magical colour, unapologetic even after the war as if to say they did not blame themselves for it and were not ashamed of their actions. They were still Slytherin and proud. They would not go into hiding or shame after the war, despite the voices in the media or turn of unimportant witches and wizards in society who saw the war as an excuse to hate on Slytherins or purebloods for a time afterwards. The white suggested they did not think of themselves as evil, despite being surrounded by Slytherin and darkness for much of the war. The bright vivid whites of the stamens and the enchanted floating lights suggested there was an unflickering good in them, always, and the floating melody of the lights that sometimes darted in and out of sight around the flowers seemed to challenge oneself to find it.

The usual chandeliers - metal base and beige ceramic tulip shapes near the top with lights in them - had been replaced by stained glass ones of dark green and white. The usual table and rug in the centre removed. A small orchestra played in the corner, manned by real witches and wizards that were undoubtably acquaintances of the Malfoys instead of the enchanted instruments they sometimes were, and finger foods on platters floated around enchanted.

It was a modestly small crowd for a ball like this, comprised of individuals that were either pureblood, halfblood, socialite, wealthy, of both the Malfoy's age, and people from Draco and my year at Hogwarts.

Daphne Greengrass and Millicent Bulstrode from my dorm at Hogwarts were there, and their eyes flashed jealously at me as I entered the room.

It was considered prestigious to know the theme of balls like this, as it showed you were on the inner circle, privy to the undercurrents of the hosting party's business ideas, ideas in life, where to go next, and all of that. You didn't ask what the theme was, they merely hinted it at you if they wanted to. I was one of the few girls there wearing a dark green and white dress, so it appeared that their hint in the invitation that green would look nice on me, had allowed me to make some sort of entrance at the event. Even though I had no contact with Draco for the past three months, I was not made to look at a fool at their ball.

A feeling I recognised as guilt flooded through me - amongst many others. This was the problem with Draco Malfoy. He never outright rejected you and kept you thinking he liked you. Little things here and there. A part of me wanted to read the sign that it was all over, reject this romance, reject him, reject the possibility of trying anymore with this, but the Malfoys were never so nice to give me that message.

"Darling, you look beautiful tonight," came a strong sharp voice to my left. I turned and found myself face to face with Draco Malfoy, his cold, guarded, neutral, cool blue-grey eyes looking at me, his smile stiff and small, but polite, frozen on his sharp aged face, and his hand offered to mine for a dance. There were dark shadows and eyebags underneath his eyes that were present during our seventh year at Hogwarts, that were from more than just studying for our NEWTs, that had not completely left even all this time later. There was a haunted and hardened look on his eyes, even if he thought no one saw it, and he did not look like the boy I remembered him to me in our fourth year. I felt an inward sigh coming on. I had the feeling the war complicated Draco Malfoy's already complicated look on the world and he was even harder to read and understand than he was to me before.

"Fitting for such a beautiful ball, and you look no less handsome than before," I said, watching him closely for a reaction. No one said their true thoughts in pureblood society. You should be shamed, gossiped about, cast out or kept on the backburner if you had any use at all for speaking your mind among these people. My mother said it was because many of them dealt with difficult business deals, balancing politics and relationships all behind the scenes.

Coming with business, politics and power, were the expectations, hopes and dreams, of many other people, as well as backstabbing, jealousy, envy. Everyone loved, feared and hated the ones in power all at the same time. Even just a casual offhand remark from one of us, a compliment too earnest and genuine, would create such a huge ripple effect and tip some people hinging on us over the edge that we could not afford to speak our mind. It cost us too much opportunities in this careful game we played of politics, power and money, and it was just a behaviour too sprinkled with badness in general.

Statements were carefully presented, sentences rearranged and reworded a million times in our minds before we said them, the meaning picked precisely and clear, present in the sentence, but sometimes tucked away behind sharp witticisms or careful twists of words, and that was how we communicated.

I couldn't tell if Draco was being polite, or he meant to say he thought me more beautiful than the other witches in attendance and that it was some sign he wanted something more. I tried to say it was only normal for me to be so dressed up and made up because it was a formal event, leaving it up to him to guess how much of it was due to that, or wanting to look good for him, and I gave him a compliment to suggest he was following the rules of such an event like this exactly the same.

Downplaying it, testing him, to see if he would agree or deny and attempt to press to me how much more beautiful or graceful at the event he thought I was than the average person. I could take that as a sign he was interested in me - or he could merely play it cool and not do anything to reject me like he once did, and I would be stuck in the same hell I was in for fourth to seventh year at Hogwarts, but just more complicated.

It was true he was no less handsome than before in that his baseline looks hadn't changed, though he looked a little worse for wear from the mental effects of the war and it showed on him, but yet I had succeeded in saying the last part like a question. As if I was asking what the reason might be for even remarking on his looks in that sense ('no less handsome than before') and offering him the chance to say it had he felt like adding anything about the war, or his involvement in it at this very moment.

He also might've not and I left it open for him to not say anything on that either.

"I hope so if I'm to find a wife. I shall tell you the story of how I acquired more land..." said Draco, a small, brief, polite smile on his face as he lead me to the centre of the dance floor and pulled me into a viennese waltz. The piano and violins and flutes played a song that alternated between slow and fast. The couples on the dance floor took this as a cue to either dance a slow waltz if they had not attended a ball or practiced for some time and wanted to gently ease into it, occasionally speeding up for the fast parts but still sticking to a waltz, or a viennese waltz which was faster than a normal waltz, if they wanted to show they were not rusty for events like this, or perhaps intimidate the others a little with their higher standards.

Even if it wasn't their intention, I knew some couples would be intimidated. I followed him into the viennese waltz, he lead the dance which meant he chose the turns, the pace, and I merely followed. The leader would dance to their left and forwards, whilst the follower danced to their right and backwards. My dance tutor told me one didn't try to predict what the leader would choose, one simply placed both hands in theirs and trusted their movements to steer them in the right direction. Often the leader would already have an idea in mind for where they wanted you to be at a certain point in time and make it easy for you if you didn't resist.

I let myself be led. It had indeed been a long time since I last ballroom danced. I hadn't all three months I'd been at home since Hogwarts ended, and I could see why there was the option of a slower waltz. I wasn't bad at dancing, my mother made sure of that, I had a dance tutor for 8 years from 7-15, but I didn't enjoy dancing too much, and so didn't practice as much as someone who loved it did. Therefore I was always a little taken aback by the dances if I hadn't done them in a while, and hoped to not screw up.

I didn't, though I was a bit surprised at Draco's choice of a dance. If anything it contributed to my sense he was at least intending to play his part in the whole marriage market thing incredibly well, taking these pureblood customs and traditions seriously.

We were the envy of many people's eyes for the entirety of the dance. It felt good to have other people's eyes and envy on us, it reminded me of the fact that even though I felt like I'd done nothing for the past three months, I still had some value or nobility that three months of inactivity did not take away, and it felt secure to know other people still judged us as above them, but yet I also felt pressure. And tension. Was Draco going to commit or leave me hanging? Could I even do this again? Let's see. Fourth to seventh year was three years. Could I take another there to maybe five years of this shit? Draco giving mixed signals, not quite giving me the strong sense of confirmation I so wanted from him, but not rejecting me either?

After the dance my brief feelings of comfort and tension at other people's jealousy of us and the cementation of our spot on the social ladder disappeared as Draco lead me to the corners of the dance floor where we did indeed dance a slower waltz. I still felt other people's eyes on us, but it was just the two of us as he leaned in a little closer than he had to so that I could hear his voice, and told me tales of his newly acquired land - ones he did the deals himself without his father - whilst we waltzed. I could tell from the softness of his voice that it was a story he intended to only share with me that night, and the others who watched us knew it too.

It wasn't a great story. Nothing actually personal, but it seemed like the sort of thing one might say if they wanted to impress in the marriage markets. Trying to showcase their family's wealth, or their own skill with business, or both at the same time.

Draco's story was that he basically purchased several new investment properties that he thought were good deals, and did the talking himself. He basically said that with the changes post war the wizarding world was going to be more tolerant of muggle-borns and halfbloods and that there would be greater demand for housing closer to wizarding villages. Because of this he purchased a few shabby lots and developed it into better apartments and buildings that he was intending to sell for those families wanting to settle down, pocketing a decent amount of money for his first real business endeavor. It was an intelligent idea, and showed that the values of the socialite families in the wizarding world were constantly malleable according to what made them profit. Now that there was profit to be made from muggle-borns and halfbloods coming in, they had not hesitated to milk it, or at least, not refused the money due to their prejudice.

People were fools if they thought the Malfoys joined He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named purely because of pureblood values. They did hold a form of prejudice against muggle-borns and muggles, but there was more to it besides simple blind rage or prejudice. No doubt they thought it helped them politically or with money at that time.

"What a neat story. How did you get such a good lawyer to tighten up the contracts and pull it of?" I asked him.

In socialite society wives didn't work. They were looked down upon if they did. The men didn't have official jobs either. The Malfoys could choose when to invest, whenever they wanted to, but most socialites were greedy and preferred to constantly grow their wealth it was like having a full time job. Or at least they tended to do it regularly, just that the nature of it wasn't recorded as a job. Wives would mostly help out with what their husband's did. It was common to try and prove to any guy you wanted to marry that you were able to help out with his business, whatever it was, after you married. It was common for daughters to help out with their family's business a little growing up as well.

I didn't really help out much with my parent's business, my mother loved it, my father was hard, cold, and professional at it, but I didn't particularly sway in either direction. But I was good with people and reading in between the lines. When my mother tried to teach me it was clear I didn't have any of their interests, but I was interested in learning about the people they did business with, what they were afraid of, who they bowed down to, what was power and how to weld it, and so the happy middle I faced with my mother was simply to talk about that. I had known a little about lawyers and their importance in all of this, so that was why I bought it up. Truthfully though, I was not trying my hardest to win Draco yet, just making small casual conversation.

I still wasn't sure of his feelings towards me, and throughout this whole night, I still couldn't quite figure out if he was just being polite and doing his role super well, or if he truly meant to court me somehow.

"I didn't," said Draco after a bit of a long pause, "but it's likely the halfbloods, they're all of the families buying in really, are going to cause trouble sooner or later. So I'll need to get a good one for it."

The thing about being a Malfoy (and a Parkinson) was that anyone who worked for us gained favour, simply because of the power of our reputations and surnames. Anyone who had known someone else had been hired or employed by a Malfoy or a Parkinson were more likely to employ them next. So we couldn't give out jobs to any random person, because what if they turned out to be someone bad? Then our name would fall. We had to be careful who we associated with, and I was sure that if Draco was to get a good lawyer to help with his business, it was going to be both someone tricky, and also someone on his side or favour. Someone for us. It had to be.

That was another added complication and I could see the challenge it posed for him. I'm surprised he got this far without it and it seemed too, that Draco had realised and now there was a tiny cease in his eyes.

"I'll let you know if anyone of that level interests me. A tea would be good to discuss that," I said. I didn't know anyone like that yet, but this showed Draco I understood the importance of connections.

"One of the things to discuss," he said with a nod. Matter of fact, indifferent. He lead us to some refreshments. There were still envious eyes on us, but yet a growing worrying feeling in my stomach. All I had felt was that he had played his part in the courtship process well, like he was ticking boxes on his end. But I did not know if he had really liked me well at all.

"Oh look, there's Theo," muttered Draco bitterly after some time and as the latest and last arrival of the ball came. Theo was a boy in our year at Slytherin who was as equally pureblooded and wealthy as Draco, his family were also deatheaters, though Draco had always been closest to Crabbe and Goyle (now that I remember Crabbe had died in the war a bit of shock and stillness comes over me. If Draco was still grieving his death he had hid it very well all ball). Draco never said it, but I didn't get the impression he liked Theo very much. They were each other's competitor's and rivals in a way, and it seemed Draco had not wanted to appear alone or with company but not engaged in courtship at the ball in front of him.

He grabbed my hand tightly and pulled me into another series of viennese waltzes and waltzes, which made sure that everyone at the ball would remember the two of us dancing together quite substantially.

I didn't know how to feel at all of that. On the one hand it felt good to feel wanted by him, or at least made the appearance of being wanted, to be pulled into ticking the box of 'perfect pureblood Slytherin girl who's getting courted by the guy' - a socially acceptable role - but yet I also felt a sense of dread.

This wasn't the first time I felt Draco wanted a girl around to help improve his image. He was not above that. A part of me wondered for how long he might keep me around for, string me along, just to look good in front of some other guys, and then ultimately discard or dump me when he's finished.

I loved that Draco cared enough about other guy's opinions to want to be kinder to a girl just to look good. But hated that it was his reason for being so kind or courteous to me.

I had mixed feelings all throughout the dance that I didn't let show.

"You know Pansy," he remarked whilst we were at the sidelines near the end, the music slowing down to a soft finish and only sleepy waltzes filling the ballroom anymore, after we'd chatted to the usual party goers and made rounds that night, keeping on good terms with everyone, "even if we both find our fortunes with somebody else, you're still a decent lady. And you always will be. I will not have regretted knowing your acquaintance these years..." he said with that passive politeness in his voice, but his eyes were cold and unfeeling. There was no hint of emotion in them that revealed how he truly felt underneath. Did he like me? Did he really want to date me? How much of everything was just him being polite due to pureblood customs? Why did I even bother trying to find emotion from his eyes? I could nowhere last time. His eyes never gave anything away.

What did he even mean by this? Just when I thought all he had done was be the mandatory polite, but do it to such a high standard all ball, here he was, dropping a statement such as this. One that felt a little more intimate somehow. Like I registered on his personal radar in a greater sense than just a pureblood he had to know. Just when I thought he gave me no signs. It wasn't a sign. But it didn't let me rest my thoughts and stop thinking about him. That's what it was.

"I have no less compliment for such a man like yourself either," was all I could think of in response, though I felt empty inside after I gave it. I wondered if this was what life was going to be like for the next few years of my life. Just this lukewarm back and forth for so long. But when when the music finally died, I felt a bit of relief that my appearance and image at this ball would be ending soon and I couldn't need to keep up my presence here, I felt a little bit of something as I watched Draco slip away. Looked into his blue-grey eyes, saw perhaps a light shimmering somewhere behind them. I wished Draco could give me a sign that truly meant he loved me. I yearned for him to truly give me warmth, let me in. Even with his mixed statements, I was still driven by yearning and desire all night.

Even though I thought him a slimy slippery person who was using others for his own gain, and who was merely polite in public and following social codes, I'd wanted his approval, him to 'pick' me and only me, that night.

I was not devoid of that pain either this time around.


Author's Note: Thanks for the review :)