In The Mouth Of Malfoys
"More tea, mate?" Ron asked solemnly looking over at his friend, whose forehead was against the table, and one hand was wrapped around an empty cup.
"You know," Harry answered, "it seems all we ever do nowadays is drink tea." He finally looked up, his black hair ruffled and a sleepy look in his eyes.
"Yeah," Ron agreed, pouring another mug anyway, "still beats poor Hermione's job - dancing with the Malfoys, eh?"
Harry allowed himself a small chuckle, propping himself up on one elbow as Ron sat next to him, shuffling documents of parchment out of the way. "I don't think she's too happy about it either."
Ron frowned. The Boy Who Lived's laugh sounded hollow. His green eyes looked shaken, and the lightning scar that Ron had never got used to seeing stood out boldly, like a child had drawn him and coloured it in the wrong shade.
"It was nice seeing me mum and dad wasn't it? Can't believe Ginny wanted to stay in this hole."
"Hmm."
"She has to go back to Hogwarts in two weeks, doesn't she? Blimey, seems a long time since we left."
"Hmm."
"I miss Hogwarts… I miss back when things were simple."
"I miss the cooking." Harry added, looking thoughtful.
Ron shared with him a conspirator's grin, not unlike his two older brothers sometimes wore when up to no good. "I think Snape might have left that bottle of gin in the freezer."
"Probably laced with poison."
Harry slowly met Ron's eyes when with best friend intuition they both raced for the kitchen.
- - -
Hermione was not sure whether the crowd of Voldemort's mutely coloured socialites departed out of shock or fear as Draco pulled her along as he led her from the balcony agonisingly slow, his head high as they parted to let them, or more specifically, him through.
He stopped at the centre of it all, a smile which was somewhat more genuine than the maddening devil's smirk not leaving his face.
The music, horrifically for Hermione had turned into a slow jazz song. The atmosphere became one akin to a purr of one lover to another, and equally horrifically, Draco had still not let go of her hands.
He bowed towards her, one eyebrow arched in mock salute of this momentous occasion, his eyes quite clearly saying; "A dare is a dare." And stood, in the same position.
Only when Parvati somewhere in the crowd gave a polite, yet pointed cough, did Hermione realise he was waiting for her to do the same thing back.
She bowed.
Her first mistake.
The onlookers who were all pretending not to look as the first Malfoy ever danced with a girl with tainted blood tittered quietly at her blunder, which she amended with a courtesy and warming cheeks.
Draco smiled once more, holding his pose for a second longer before gathering her quite unexpectedly into his arms.
"What's the matter?" he asked, "can the bold Granger not dance?"
"I can dance just fine." she hissed back, shooting a glare similar to the one's she gave rule breakers at Hogwarts to a woman that was starring quite unflatteringly at her hands on Draco's shoulders.
Although, in theory, Hermione could dance very little. The only other events that required her to dance was her Aunt Wendy's wedding when she was eight and that terrible 'champions dance' at the Yule ball. Both of which she was swept around by someone who thankfully, did know what they were doing (that being her Uncle Saul and Victor Krum).
Though Draco seemed to have gathered her statement was a lie by the lack of her movement. Pulling her to him and placing both of her hands on his shoulders, he held her very close, and then, moving they're hips slowly and appallingly erotically together, he leaned next to her ear.
"Should I kill you now?" He said, and as his lips touched her skin, in the way which had she been a less-logical girl would have had shivers running hopelessly down her spine.
Quite clearly, Hermione thought, He is made of pure evil.
"Why would you do that?" She replied, bitter sweetness eating its way through her words.
"Before you stab me with your wand, perhaps."
Hermione wondered how it was possible someone could sound so smug, and yet move so gracefully at the same time.
"Oh, I wouldn't like to get your blood all over my pretty new dress." she muttered coolly.
Pulling away from her and spin her round in a seemingly effortless movement, Draco's eyes burned holes through the shimmering material and he gave her a wolfish grin.
"That is a pretty dress." he agreed and added, "I am thankful you chose not to wear red, that colour gives me a headache. Especially as it clashes horribly with gold."
But his smart remark and undressing glare didn't bother Hermione, what bothered her was the fact his hands were surprisingly gentle. And it was affecting her ability to breathe.
Instead of spinning her back with her arms around his neck, he pulled her to him but this time her back was against his chest and his chin rested on her shoulder as he swayed them from side to side.
"You see them, they're beautiful aren't they?" he gestured towards the rest of the guests, "each one of them twirling away in silk and lies, and each one of them, Hermione, would do what ever the Dark Lord says because that's all they know, they're pathetic, aren't they?"
His cheek moved against hers and each word he spoke was having a profound affect on her knees.
This was not good. Taking a breath, Hermione tried to speak-
"- But you and I, we're not like them."
And words failed her.
"You and I, you must have noticed, the similarities –"
"Do you not remember everything at Hogwarts? The taunts? The name-calling?" she snapped, suddenly all too aware of they're conversation as he spun her around once more.
"Well," Draco gave an absent movement far too graceful to be a shrug, or it might have been part of the dance, "no ones perfect."
Hermione stared. "It's a long way off between being not-perfect and wanting to murder everyone I know." She frowned as she followed the swaying and spinning of the dance. "The only thing we ever had in common was blinding hatred. And now you're saying what, 'we're so much alike' and – what exactly? That your heart wasn't in it? Don't be stupid Malfoy."
"Maybe what I'm saying is that my heart was in it too much."
Well, that effectively stunned her silent.
The silences stretched for long moment, and then, in a languid lazy movement Draco entwined his fingers with hers and pulled her close enough to hear his heartbeat.
"How can we be this close and have so many barriers between us? No one is near us and there are still people holding us back." He asked simply, a rhetorical question that was as bizarre as it was poetic.
The dancing stopped.
They're audience broke into polite applause.
Draco released her hands and turned away from her, leaving her in the middle of the dance floor, watching his grey back retreat like a wave to the ocean of crowds.
She wasn't particularly sure she knew what he meant, all that she knew was that his words hurt and she felt very, very confused.
- - -
Half an hour later, after a good deal of that green substance that looked smelt and tasted suspiciously like alcohol which lead to rather frisky dancing with Parvati and Lavender. Blaise Zabini hopped along side them, and despite his fellow house-members looks and raised eyebrows openly (or maybe drunkenly) declared "Gryffindor to be a house of many fine women and good Quidditch players!" The four happily spinning figures were in the centre of the dance floor, where Hermione had stayed long after Draco left, hell bent on discovering something worth visiting the Manor of which architecture she greatly admired, but whose owners – Yes, she thought indignantly, all of them. - She greatly despised. Her team members had foisted a long stemmed glass that refilled a little too frequently into her hands and adapted to her rhythm of fast dancing during slow songs and slow swaying during the relatively upbeat songs.
Suddenly, Blaise grabbed hold of Hermione's hands and spun her around. Dancing close to her he whispered, "Draco's reading Romeo and Juliet again."
Hermione blinked. "Excuse me?"
Blaise's eyes danced as they did across the length of her body and back again. "He hasn't done that since seventh year. Anyway, I heard you, he, Potter and one of the Weasley's had an encounter recently."
The girl wrinkled her nose, intoxication washing away all teachings by her friends of how a lady behaves at a party.
"You shouldn't play with Draco," he added as though her actions had spoken, "he already chose a side and it is far too late to swap."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she hissed lowly, glancing around for eavesdroppers to the conversation. There were none, as the crowd of uptight and seemingly so, Pureblood's danced in a ring around Hermione and her new partner. Lavender and Parvati who were closest far too entranced in making moves on unsuspecting wizards to notice anything else.
"You've kicked my ass far too many times in tests to play convincingly stupid," he muttered, "I've seen the way he looks at you. You must have."
"I – I –"
"Don't be fooled by the fact that I am here freely dancing with you, Hermione Granger, my father is not particularly enamoured with what side of the war we are on, as long as we come up smiling in the end, unlike many of my former classmates." Blaise suddenly had a faraway look in his glassy eyes. "Draco pays dearly for the small amount of freedom he has left – that will all change soon, I know – but what matters to a Malfoy in the end, will always be his name."
Blaise shot a toothy smile at her, as though it was a consolation prize, which she couldn't return. "I assume you came here for information, and now you have it." He turned, as if to walk away but Hermione stopped him, catching his arm. She opened her mouth intending to tell him that she really hated how Slytherins were so cryptically calm but what came out instead was, "I wish he hadn't," she stopped, realising that her eyes were damp, and then raised her chin. "Draco Malfoy is an insufferable slimy ferret."
Blaise winked, "Bet you wish you believe that."
- - -
"The party is going well, is it not, Lucius?" Voldemort hissed through pointed teeth.
The host flinched but took a step forward. "I do believe so, my Lord." The blonde man stated, bowing deeply as expected.
"Very unlike my other plans." Those simple words yet conveyed hatred. When the Dark Lord spoke like that it meant punishment. Tension in Lucius flowed into fear.
"My Lord is not pleased by something?"
All around the two half-men the room darkened like the mood. The candlelight flickered menacingly, and the books on the shelves rattled, the noise reaching a crescendo until the Dark Lord drew a breath, and spoke harshly, his voice rising from an angry hiss to a commanding roar.
"Where there was cowardliness there is courage, where there was anger there is only sickly stillness, where there was hatred there is love, where there was obedience there is only rebellion. And Lucius, I want your son back."
"I was not aware that Draco has strayed from your side." He bowed deeply once more towards the chair and his master. His grey eyes, so unlike his son's, so coldly calculating and crude narrowed. "Fetch Draco." He muttered to the house elf cowering in the corner of the room, desperately trying to re-light the dead candles.
There they sat as the long moment drew out, one's red eyes unblinking, as Lucius moved not a muscle from his poise, as Death Eater custom dictated. The younger Malfoy walked through the door, inclining his head at the Dark Lord (- though not quite as low as Death Eater custom dictated) and Lucius stood up. Facing his son he peered along his nose at him, an unsatisfied look upon his face.
"Have I come so you could blacken the bruises, father?" Draco asked.
Lucius chuckled not a trace of humour in the bleak sound. "Our Lord is unhappy with you're behaviour."
Draco raised a causal eyebrow. Silver eyes met hereditary silver. But where Lucius's held all the warm of an empty fire grate his son's grey was the merging of every colour of the rainbow.
After all, he and his father had never had a relationship. Only a battle of wits.
Draco's uninterested look faded as he saw out of the corner of his eyes the inhuman figure that haunted dreams of many. It would have been a lie to say his was not scared. It would have been a lie to say he did not fear for his life or the safety of his unbroken bones in those seconds he had a familiar bonding moment with his only father. But Malfoy's never showed emotions.
"Lucius, Draco." Came the drawn-out hiss of Voldemort, who was observing this exchange with a small smile.
"I suppose we have time for pleasantries later." Draco muttered, looking towards the creature held up high on a wrought iron chair.
Voldemort laughed though was far from amused.
"Where do you're loyalties lie?" Lucius asked his son, as though expecting a text book answer.
"Here." Draco shot back quickly.
"And yet you show little enthusiasm as you did before. Are the glories of being a Death Eater not what you excepted?" Voldemort's voice was laced with land mines. His tone as unforgiving as his words were callous.
"I do what is expected of a Malfoy." The boy replied, as his father nodded in the closest Lucius Malfoy could come to pride in his son.
The Dark Lord, however, disregarded the comment. "You are willing to do exactly what I require of a loyal Death Eater?"
"Yes."
Draco paused as the man and the monster watched him, waiting for a flicker of disobedience.
"Who am I, if not a Malfoy?" He continued, musing more to himself.
Voldemort smiled, slowly extending his cruel worm-like lips. "Now that this minor dispute has been settled - Lucius, perhaps you can return to the party?"
- - -
"Welcome, welcome, my friends, guests and-,' here the cold figure of Lucius Malfoy paused in his announcement and to Draco's eyes he was radiating anything but welcome. In a speech which sounding reminiscent to one made by Dumbledore (though far superior since he was a Malfoy) Draco's thoughts betrayed him sarcastically. He was standing on the stage, the band aptly silent, along with his father and mother, both beaming, though more like cats to cornered mice, at their guests. The crowd suddenly laughed at something his father had said, but Draco had long since drowned it out. He was now scanning the crowds for one particular face.
One he couldn't seem to find.
Blaise and those other two Gryffindor's Hermione must have come with were in the centre of the floor, a small ring of people and empty floor separating them from everybody else. Small enough to not to be obvious, but large enough that it was obviously on purpose.
He waited until the very ending line of Lucius's speech before once again heading through the applauding floor, towards his friend.
"Blaise," he started, slightly out of breath, and aware that his fathers haughty glare burning into his shoulder, '"Blaise, you wanker."
The boy in question, turned around from his conversing with the enemy, or rather the supposed enemy of the two girls he was with. "Oh Draco, I thought you were reading." He had one dark eyebrow raised in question, belying his words. "In your room. Alone. Now."
Draco resisted the urge to smirk, Blaise had always been a hopeless liar. "Well I was," he waved an impatient hand, "but have you seen my," he lowered his voice, "red and gold book, you know the one we spoke of earlier."
Draco's comments were not unusual, or even thought of by his conscious brain: he had been living with his father, or at least people who were to report back to his father listening all his life.
Even so, he shot a glare for old time's sake towards Patil and Brown, who were openly eavesdropping. Though, unlike the old times, the girls did not look shifty and move away, they merely starred as though he was a breed of cattle.
A thorough-bred cattle, his mind interjected quickly.
It seemed, Blaise, though brilliantly smart and his very best friend was either very dazed by all the dancing, which wasn't particularly likely since he had been attending these events since he was eleven, or perhaps he was half-inebriated, because he repeated dumbly, "Red and Gold... book?"
Draco's eyes widened.
"Oh that book! The book with amazing legs and an amazing sized crush on you just went to the bathroom." Blaise leaned a little closer. "But she went a while ago."
The silver haired boy bit his lip unsurely, and then looked towards the corner of the room where both his mother and father were in terse conversation with figures in dark robes, and then towards the hall, where Hermione would be.
With a final nod to Blaise, he turned in the direction of the door, one eyebrow still quirked higher than the other wondering what in the name of Merlin he was doing.
Would like to dedicate this chapter to Talon, Becky and Lucy. Yay for converting people to the might ways of D/Hr
Ye Olde Authors Note: Oh argh! That was one very hard chapter to write. Took a terribly long time, and many many glasses of wine to finish. Even so, I'm not terribly pleased with the end result. sigh but these chapters are never perfect. Made listening to The Calling. Sorry about the bad Elizabethian language last chapter, I blame my school, honestly, we need to know these things!
Ye Olde Authors Disclaimer: Am I English? Check. Am I blonde? No. Am I JKR? No.
Ye Olde Reviewers:
Thalion'81- sniff i would just like to say thanks to my 'mom' and my dad and of course, Draco (whom I can't live without) lol, thanks for the standing ovation and the once again brilliantly hilarious review.
Arafel2 - just doing my part for the worlds D/Hr fans :D
... - Hermione has been in wizarding boarding school for 7 years, you think she knows everything about Shakespeare?! lol, just kidding, thanks for the tip. next time you could leave your name :) i don't bite.
Croutonforkeranon - is it? :blush: thank you!
scholz03 - thanks for the review :D and yes you can see Venus in England but you can see venus in the evening sky at the Malfoy Manor - which is impossible because you can only see venus in the morning sky.
luver-of-Tom - ahh! Blood and Chocolate is right after Harry Potter on my two favourite book lists! Yay for werewolves and witches :)
foxxglove - lol, i don't want to slap you! admittedly I am terrible with all those things mentioned, and no cries i don't have a beta. I did, but she seems to have left the internet world. damnher. Thanks again for the honesty, I will now search for one :D
candygoddess - Thank you! Yes, there will be some dancing... some tears... and then some more dancing.
ungojos - awww, thanks for the review. hmm, you'll get the tea and angels title in the end, trust me. (good guess though :P)
PinkTribeChick - cliched? covers ears and hides it was?! ahh! Oh, its true, but ball scene are always fun. (thankfully, Snape has not gotten awfully high, popped out of the ground and paired them up for a year long assignment - yet.) thanks for your review.
hyparly4suger - thank you 3rd person for shaming poor Hermione on her bad Elizibethian knowledge. It must be all those potions text books flooding her brain with useless knowledge. cough okay, I stuck at Shakespeare alright? And I have no excuse for it - especially having lived near Stratford Upon Avon! Thanks for the review :)
Elizabeth Tears - blushes hides face aw, fellow-name-e-of-mine how do I adore you? Let me count the ways! Thanks for reading :)
JeanB - I do believe theres a Blaise lover in us all nods of course, theres not much to dislike since we can invent him anyway we choose.
potts - will do!
thickney - giggles gospel? oh I don't... well if you say so! :D thank you very much for your lovely review, will keep me smiling all day, even though I have the flu coughs
hunni07 - lol thanks, i'll try!
Niquita - yes :D hopefully soon (or several people I know will try and bludgeon me with shovels!)
ahem I will now go burn my ears in the toaster. Bad awaysheflew!