Yeah, so, this is the first part of the end. It's the end of the beginning! The real end will be given soon, promise.
The reviews I have now are nice, and more reviews are even nicer.
Dirty Tricks
Aside from the fact that it looked as if Darian was struggling to enjoy himself, she did have quite a lovely time. She danced, laughed, had a few alcoholic drinks, tried foods she had never had before—oh what a night!
The dancing….it was… old fashioned, really. There was no modern style dancing, and she wondered how she knew how to dance like this. Once when she stopped to rest her beating heart, a strange man came up to her and asked her to dance with him. She cast a glance to Darian, to see if she had his permission, when she realized, she didn't need his permission and went out to dance.
But that was one giant mistake. One, the man wanted to dance with her all night. Two, sometime during the second dance she was having with this man, she saw, out of the corner of her eye, Darian with some pretty little girl about her age. So, excusing herself from this man right there on the dance floor, she left the building in a hurry.
"Oh that boy, I swear," she muttered angrily, as she started to walk away from the home, out in the gardens. "I just can't believe him!"
"Who can't you believe?" someone said behind her, making her start and turn around.
"Merlin, Darian! You. I can't believe you! I saw you with that girl."
"And I saw you with that man," he seemed angry. Had that upset him?
"But I'm free to dance with anyone!"
"I am too," he cast a frightening glance at her, before he turned and started back for the house.
"Wait, Darian, wait!" she cried. "I didn't mean it like that, wait!" she caught up with him, and turned him around.
"Then what did you mean?"
"Well, by the sounds of it, this isn't your first time at this kind of thing. I wanted to enjoy myself tonight, but your grumpy attitude is going to ruin it!"
"Well, what? Do you want me to fake a laugh or two, smile, and flirt with the pretty ladies? I'm sure one of them would be glad to be here with me!"
"I am glad to be here with you!"
"As if you act like it!" she realized, he was right.
"Just tell me what is wrong; you've been like this since you picked me up tonight."
"I don't want to bother you with my problems."
"But I want to be bothered with them! Maybe I could help."
He caught her arms, and tightly held onto her, sure to leave a mark. Looking her right in the eyes, he muttered angrily. "There is nothing—nothing!—you can do to help me."
"Why not?" she cried, tears forming in her eyes.
He let go of her and he stepped away. "I told you… I can't tell you."
"Damn that! Just tell me, please. I couldn't rest easy anymore knowing there was something wrong," all of this made her sick, and just minutes ago she was so upset! Now she was pleading to know what was wrong? Oh… this night had gone horrible, since she agreed to dance with that man.
Breathing heavily, he shook his head. "Come, let us forget this and dance for now."
Her eyes narrowed in sorrow. How could he just say something like that? Tears slid down her cheeks, "Darian…" she whispered.
He turned around again to face her, "Hannah," he soothed, embracing her. "Please, don't cry. It will be okay."
"No, don't touch me!" she escaped from his grasp and backed away. "It won't be okay. I want to go back to the hotel, now."
"Hannah, listen to me, if you leave now, you may never see me again."
She gave him a sharp glance, her hair seeming to be crackling with electricity, "I said I want to go back to the hotel," as she made her way to the limousine.
He followed her, knowing the limo wouldn't leave without him. They both slipped into the limo, and he told them to take off to the hotel. The entire ride was silent, but she cast a glance to a clock, it flashed; 11:45.
The drive felt longer than ever, maybe because the passengers were irritated, but when they passed her hotel, she turned, and called to the driver. "You passed the hotel!"
"We're not going to your hotel."
She cast Darian an irate glance, "What?"
"You're coming to my hotel, so we can talk."
"We could have done that in mine!"
"You would've shut me out."
"True," she replied. Sighing, she set back; maybe he'd tell her what was wrong, anyway.
They pulled up to the fanciest hotel in town in minutes, and when he got out, to hand her out, she refused his hand and stepped out on her own accord. He led her into the lobby, past the receptionist's desk, where, when she cast a glance to the girls behind the desk, they were staring at Darian, giggling, and pointing to her.
What the…
She was shoved into the elevator, and he pressed the top most button—the top floor. The ride to the top was quiet, and when she stepped out… it was different. The entire floor was quiet, clean, and it felt different. There weren't as many rooms.
"This is my floor, for your information."
"You rented out an entire floor?"
"No, I own this hotel, and this is where I stay when I am in town."
"No joke," she grumbled.
Leading her into a room near the middle of the hall, she was astonished by the looks of it. The wood was all stained dark, with black leather seats, trimmed in silver and green. Everything seemed to be green and silver.
"This is absurd. There is no way you could have had everything set to green and silver to match me. You had no idea."
"Green, silver, and black have been my favorite colors my entire life."
"Why?"
"Because they are the colors of the Slytherin House."
She gasped, turning to him, "What?"
"Don't play the fool with me. I've known since the night at the club you were a witch. You should have guessed I was a wizard."
"But… we are around the same age…I would have known you."
"Yes, that would be true."
"Then how come I've never seen you?"
"Because, my dear, we are lying."
"We?"
"Yes, we."
A silence passed between them, and she turned away from him, ashamed. "Are you…" she cleared her throat, "Going to tell me what happened today?"
"No," he stepped nearer to her.
"Then why did you bring me to here?"
"To talk."
"That was established, already. What did you want to talk about?"
"Nothing in particular."
"I'm leaving!" she turned and headed for the door, but before she could reach the door, he grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him.
"You can't leave. That door is shut, locked, and only I can open it. No spell can open it, and you can not Apparate out of this room. And," he took her handbag, "You will not need this, seeing as I know your wand is in here."
She gasped; what was he doing? How could he do this? Why….?
Slowly, he embraced her around her middle, pulling her body close to his, "And even if I told you, you'd be horrified, and would never want to see me again—I could never stand that."
"Why must you be so intriguing? You must tell me, I won't be upset."
"You aren't a pureblood, are you?"
Opening her mouth slightly, she tried pushing him away; no, she was not—but she wasn't about to say that.
"I know you are not. That you don't approve of Death Eaters."
"You're a Death Eater!" she cried, struggling against him.
He let her go, "No I am not. I detest Death Eaters, all of them."
"Then why do you ask?" she stood askew, narrowing her eyes, and letting her arms fall limp again.
"Because my father, who is one, wants me to continue his course—he can not be with Voldemort any longer, seeing as he is still in Azkaban. I've been able to avoid him for so long, but he is angry, and he is forcing me into the position."
"Your father is doing this to you?"
"Yes," Darian looked away, sighing, and his hands clenching into fists.
"But you don't want to be a Death Eater?"
"No, I told you I detest them."
"Why were you so worried to tell me this?"
"It's not all that is bothering me."
"What else is?"
"My identity."
"Your identity?" she questioned, completely confused.
Slowly, he sat down on the bed, indicating that she do the same, which she did. They spoke no words, as he held her hands in his, caressing them. Occasionally he looked up to her, always a smirk on his face.
It seemed forever until he bent towards her, his breath hot on her lips; "Hannah, my lying doll, you and I—we are not who we say we are," he whispered against them, before catching hers with his own.