Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did I would buy a new pair of shoes. Every day. For the rest of my life.
Thanks to Whizzabee: I'm glad you liked the chapter, here's more
And to DCoD: Your reviews mean a lot to me, you always write the right thing thanks
And to cyodrake: thanks for the reviews, could u let me know what mistakes I made so I can edit them? thanks
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Saturday afternoon and Draco was at home. A very rare occurrence as usually he was at the office, but his charity ball was that evening and Shelia had kicked him out at two to get ready. Draco didn't get it; all he had to do was shower, throw on his dress clothes, brush his hair, spray some cologne and he was ready. But Pansy obviously understood because as soon as he was home, she had Flooed over to Ginny's so that the girls could get ready together. Blaise had pretended to be offended.
"You're not going to help me get ready?" he asked, eyeing his wife's many bags.
"Dear, you know how to put on a robe," said Pansy, giving him a kiss good-bye but then turned it into something completely more passionate.
"Not in front of me!" Draco protested.
"Sorry," said Pansy.
"So tell me again, why are you going over to Ginny's to get ready?" Blaise asked.
"For moral support," said Pansy. "As women, this social event is not just about raising money for charities."
"It's not for men either," Blaise said.
"For men it is a complete show of business success and a whole bunch of macho posturing. Who has the youngest wife, who has the most money, who has the better press power, and all of that," said Pansy. "For us women who were not married for our looks or who are part of the workforce, it is about surviving among women who are peacocks on the outside, but are like vultures on the inside, picking apart your outfit, your hair, your skin and your make-up, all while making these snide little comments that tear you apart because they know that they are completely gorgeous. I mean, they have to be because it is the only reason they are picked up by rich men. So I am going to Ginny's for moral support."
"Anyone would have married you for your looks," said Blaise, pulling Pansy close. "But I fell in love with all of you, and I am the luckiest man in the world."
They kissed again, but Pansy broke it off mindful of their best friend in the room as well.
"Draco, do me a favor," said Pansy.
"Anything," said Draco.
"Pay attention to Ginny tonight."
"I will," Draco promised and with that, Pansy stepped into the fireplace.
And that was why he was now working at his home office as he still had four hours before the ball. Blaise had taken a quick trip to his own office in Italy to fix a minor situation that had come up, and the children were being babysat by the house elves. Well, he wasn't really working; he was waiting for a reply from Higgins before he could finalize any plans.
The door opened and Draco sighed, not feeling like talking at the moment, but then a tiny figure appeared and Draco relaxed. It was just Dragon. The little boy stepped into the room, taking in the study from underneath shaggy dark bangs. He finally fastened brown eyes on Draco and he broke into a smile, holding up a book.
"You want me to read it to you?" Draco asked, pushing his chair back a little from his desk. Dragon took that as an invitation and trotted over and then clamored up onto his lap. Draco froze, not knowing what to do with the toddler who was now plopping his book on top of his work papers and flipping it open.
"A book about dragons, huh?" asked Draco, and began to read the page. "Dragons are a magical creature-," He stopped when Dragon twisted around and placed a hand on his lips, his meaning quite clear.
"Sorry," said Draco.
The boy shifted to get comfortable, and suddenly Draco was uncomfortable. He had never taken care of a little child before and he didn't know the first thing about it.
"Here," said Draco, lifting the child up, who was still holding onto the book, and depositing him on the large armchair in the office. Dragon looked at him with reproach in his eyes. Draco sighed but picked him up again, sat in the chair, and then set the boy on his lap. The toddler shifted over so that he was wedged in the space between Draco and the armrest, leaned up against Draco's side and place the book in his hands. Draco rolled his eyes, but then balanced the book on his knees, encircling his arm around the boy and opening the book. Dragon snuggled closer as the two studied the pictures of the creatures together. Now and then Draco turned the page, but besides the rub of paper against paper, the room was silent.
Gradually, Draco realized that the boy had fallen asleep and he looked down at the child tucked into his side with a faint smile. He put the book down and sat for a minute trying to figure out what to do. He must have moved slightly because Dragon gave a tiny jerk in his sleep. Draco sighed, but the sigh turned into a yawn; he was tired. He decided to wait there until the owl came from Higgins.
He didn't realize he was asleep until Blaise's laughter woke him up.
"Simply adorable," said his friend as Draco struggled to consciousness.
Draco checked his watch. "You're home early," he said.
"Customs was fast," said Blaise. "But we should probably get started primping and all that. Here, I'll take the kiddo."
Blaise reached out and, with expert form, picked up the toddler so that the child didn't even stir. Draco watched as Blaise gently stroked the hair away from the child's face and rocked him. His friend's face was a study of tenderness and love as he looked at his son.
"You're a good father, Blaise," said Draco.
Blaise looked up at him. "I can't imagine trying to be anything else. I look at them and I want to be the very best I can because they deserve so much."
Draco nodded. "Well, I'm going to go shower," he said. "I've got drool all over me." It was only a small wet spot on his shirt but he wasn't one to get introspective, at least not with people present. He walked to the door, but then turned when Blaise spoke up.
"I think you'd make a good father too, Drake."
Draco smiled coldly. "I'd rather not find out. There's that whole 'apple doesn't fall far from the tree' analogy."
"It's bullshit," said Blaise. "You are so different from your father; you just can't see it. Look at Dragon, he came into your office, didn't he?"
"So?"
"He wasn't invited in," said Blaise, his voice full of meaning.
Draco's eyes widen slightly. He remembered coming uninvited into the very same office when he was little when it had belonged to Lucius. His father had dragged him out by a hand wrapped around his neck and then set him in the hallway and punched him, hard, in the face. Draco had fallen down, only to be picked up and flung into the wall with so much force the wind had been knocked out of him. His father had turned around and left him lying there, gouges in his face bleeding from where Lucius' many rings had torn flesh. He was four at the time.
"I- I didn't even," he started.
"I know," said Blaise, stepping forward and clasping him on the shoulder. "You didn't even think about it. You're a good man, Drake, you're a good man."
Draco saw nothing but sincerity in his friend's eyes and he smiled. "Thanks Blaise."
"No problem. Just who would have thought that the richest wizard in the world would have such insecurity problems?"
Draco glared at his friend, but Blaise brushed past him laughing. Draco shook his head and decided a long, hot shower sounded nice.
At exactly seven o'clock, Draco and Blaise took the portkey to the designated arrival spot outside of Whittling Ballroom. It had rained earlier in the day and so a welcoming red carpet extended from the marble steps to the street where guests were mingling waiting for loved ones to arrive. The press was also there as it would be a publicized event.
Draco was nearly blinded by the flash of cameras as he stepped off of the platform and waved at the reporters, flashing a charming smile at the female ones. He knew he looked good. His silver-blond hair was combed to perfection, shining in the lights and his practiced smile was dazzling enough to be found on an advertisement for Reston's toothpaste. He was wearing black leather shoes, black trousers, and a form-fitting black silk shirt. His dress robes were silver and hanging open for the casual, slightly rebel look that he had invented and caused a lot of heads to turn in his direction.
"D'you see the girls?" he asked Blaise next to him, who was decked out in navy-blue robes that contrasted perfectly with his dark Mediterranean skin and dark curly hair.
"Oh yeah," said Blaise. Draco looked in his line of vision and saw that he was staring at his wife, who was dressed in a simple sheath of gold with navy-blue accents. Draco grinned at his friend and gave him a nudge to get going. If he didn't love Pansy like a sister, he would be drooling as well, because his best friend's wife had a perfect figure, even after three kids, and she was by far one of the most beautiful women he had ever known. Pansy saw them coming, waved, then pulled Ginny over who was standing behind her and Draco stared.
Ginny was dressed in a gown of pale green satin that complimented her creamy skin perfectly. The straps of the dress were off the shoulder and the neckline fashionably plunging. The bodice of the dress was in gathers that clung to her slim frame and the skirt was asymmetrical hitting just above her left knee in the front but mid-calf in the back and it had a ruffle all around the hem. Her hair was up and decorated with small ivory flowers, nestled among the red-orange curls that were threatening to fall cascading down her bare shoulders at any minute.
"There you are," said Pansy, greeting Blaise with a kiss and leaving Draco to Ginny.
"Ginevra," he said, taking her hand and raising it to his lips. "Simply stunning." He lightly brushed his lips over her hand and saw her blush slightly.
"Mr. Malfoy," she said, pulling her hand out of his grasp. "You're looking very well yourself."
"Just 'very well'?" he asked, mock offended.
"I would say more, but with how many women are eyeing you, I know that they are going to pounce as soon as you are by yourself and begin to whisper flattering and sickening compliments in your ears," said Ginny.
Draco stared at her and then laughed. "I take it you are not fond of parties?"
"Oh, I'm fond of parties. It's the people that sometimes get to me," said Ginny.
"Yes, we can be right snots sometimes, can't we?" asked Draco. Ginny laughed and he offered his arm to her as rain began to sprinkle down again. She placed her hand in the crook of his arm and he led her up the marble steps. "I'll give you a few pointers," he said. "The more jewelry a woman is wearing, the more insecure she is. The more make up a woman is wearing, the more likely it is that she is there in order to pick up a rich date for the night. If a man is in a traditional set of robes, it means he is very frugal in what he invests in and it is unlikely that he will put money in anything new. If a man is wearing the latest fashions then he will most likely follow the crowd in investments.
"The only purpose to these charity balls is to mingle with others, which means not letting them get the last veiled insult and sucking up to the right people."
They reached the large double doors which were opened by uniformed ushers and entered in. He heard Ginny's gasp and resisted the urge to smile. The room was large with fine oriental carpeting in blue, gold, and green with large gold and ivory chandeliers hanging form the sculpted ceiling. Round mahogany tables with glass tops were placed in a pleasing pattern about the room holding matching wood candelabras that were obviously charmed to be fire resistant because they held gold, burning candles. There was a raised strip of floor along the right side with a handsome gold covered podium and to the left was a set of French doors leading out to a balcony.
Ginny turned to him. "You didn't give me those tips just to be helpful, did you?" she asked.
Draco looked at her. "Maybe I want to see how you mingle."
She stared at him. "This is some sort of test, isn't it? To see if I can stay afloat during these types of shindigs."
Smart girl, Draco thought, but he just smiled at her.
"Mr. Malfoy!" called a voice across the room. "May I have a word with you?"
"If you'll excuse me, Ginevra," he said, giving her a bow and turning to walk away. "Oh, and we're eating dinner at table three," he called over his shoulder. "Don't be late."
Oh, yes. He was a bastard. No one leaves a pretty girl alone at a party, especially when said pretty girl was new to this type of fiesta, and when one had promised one's best friend to look out for her, and when said pretty girl was looking far to gorgeous to concentrate on anything else, but he had his reasons. And he would be damned before he told anyone the specifics.
He did keep an eye out for her though. He was called from person to person, from businessman to reporter and he charmed each and every one of them. He smiled, he joked, he flirted, he spoke passionately and eloquently on why it was important for businesses to move back to England and how it was important that the English wizarding folk not lose hope. And yet through it all he kept his eye on a redhead in a pale green satin dress who was being led about the room by a man in scarlet dress robes.
At promptly eight o'clock, Draco was seated at the table with Blaise and Pansy. Pansy immediately noticed that Ginny was not accompanying him.
"Draco," she questioned. "Where's Ginny?"
"Mingling," said Draco, nonchalantly sipping a glass of wine he had retrieved from a waiter's platter on the way over.
Pansy narrowed her eyes and her lips pursed dangerously. "You said you would pay attention to her."
"She's not some sort of child that needs to be watched constantly or she feels unloved," said Draco exasperated, which meant that his voice went colder than necessary. "She's a grown witch and my business manager, I'm sure she can take care of herself. It's not like she's out parading through Knockturn Alley."
Pansy flushed at his tone of voice and Blaise shot him a dirty look which said quite clearly 'There is no way in hell you talk to my wife that way'. Draco mentally cursed himself, though outwardly his cool mask slipped on. Truth was he had been watching Ginny with some young handsome wizard in a red robe all evening and it irritated the hell out of him. And the fact that it irritated him, irritated him. She was his business manager, so what if she spent an hour with some guy? He had told her to mingle, and she was bloody mingling. He glanced at his watch. Eight oh three. Where the hell was she? His mask grew colder by the second and his eyes went icy as he spotted Ginny being escorted over by Red-Robe Man.
"My apologies," said Ginny lightly, once she had arrived. "I lost track of time completely."
"The fault is all mine," said Red-Robe Man. Draco noted with disgust that the man had curly brown hair and warm, sparkling green eyes. Women loved that whole curly hair bit and he was entirely too warm and sparkling, not to mention young, although he was probably a few years older than Draco. "But," the man continued, "I just had to have a glass of champagne with such a gorgeous woman. " He held up the empty glass as proof; Draco noted Ginny's was only half empty.
"I'm flattered, Mr. Reinhem," said Ginny.
"Please, it's Michael," said Red-Robe Man.
Ginny blushed then quickly made the introductions. "Mr. Rei-Michael," she amended. "This is Mr. Blaise Zabini, his wife Pansy and my boss, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco stood and shook his hand.
"Wow, Mr. Malfoy," said the curly haired flirt. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."
"Likewise," said Draco, coldly. Part of his mind catalogued the fact that he sounded like Lucius when his voice went frigid. He would have to watch that.
"Ginny was just saying that she really enjoys working at Malfoy Enterprises," Red-Robe Man continued. "She is an amazing woman."
Ginny blushed and Draco had enough.
"Well, Michael," he said, formally and with an edge in his voice. He winced inwardly, that was an exact replica of Lucius' voice. "It was nice talking with you."
"As with you, Mr. Malfoy." They shook hands again, and Red-Robe Man began to pull the chair out so that Ginny could sit, but Draco cut him off.
"Allow me," he said. Ginny shot a look at him, but allowed him to pull out the chair for her, and then push it in. "Good day, Mr. Reinhem," he said with a finality in his voice that couldn't be mistaken and Red-Robe Man left.
Ginny glared at him once he sat down.
"What the hell was that?" she demanded.
"What did I say about swearing?" he countered, not in the mood to talk with his thoughts all a jumble. Part of him wanted to beat the crap out of a certain curly-haired, green eyed man, the other part wanted to know what the hell for, and a small voice was nagging at him, wanting to know if he fancied a certain red-haired business manager.
"You didn't need to be so rude!" she whispered as their other table mates came over to sit down.
"How was I rude?" he whispered back, nodding at the new four.
"You know how you were rude. Don't even try pretending!"
"And I told you to mingle, or does the definition of mingling mean staying in the company of one person?"
"He was introducing me to people!"
"It's the green eyes, isn't it?"
"What on earth are you talking about?"
"He had green eyes. You usually fall hopelessly in love with men who have green eyes, don't you? First it was Potter, now it's Michael."
"That was a childhood crush, and I didn't even notice his eyes."
"Didn't notice his eyes just like you were mingling," said Draco.
"You are impossible, and I hate you," she hissed.
"Real mature, Ginevra," he responded.
She clenched her teeth; he noticed because her jaw tightened and her lips turned down slightly. Not that he was studying her for a reason or anything. He struck up a conversation with the two couples that had joined them, realizing that he now had his two best friends and his business manager mad at him.
Dinner was delicious, but rather quiet. It is hard to have polite conversation when the people next to you are upset with you. When the plates had been magically cleared, the announcer for the night, a popular host for a radio station, got up and stood behind the podium.
"Excuse me, could I have your attention, please?"
The conversation gradually died down and people turned their eyes to the front of the room.
"Thank you. I hope that you have all had a lovely evening tonight?" There was polite applause. "And I am happy to announce that tonight is far from over." Polite laughter and more polite applause. "And now a word from our host, the recently returned head of Malfoy Enterprises, Mr. Draco Malfoy."
Real applause this time and Draco got up, forcing back all the frustration and locking his emotions away, and jogged up the steps to the podium, giving the crowd a wide smile. These were the people he had to perform for, and by the end of his little speech they had to love him. He was used to this sort of stuff, getting the public to adore him only this time he wasn't acting on his own benefit, but for the benefit of an entire nation. The more the rich audience liked him the more they would be willing to give, and perhaps even start up businesses in England, and Merlin knew that would take a bit of the pressure off of him.
"I would just like to take this time to thank you all for coming to my little event, but then again, why wouldn't you come? This has more publicity than the last Quidditch World Cup." Surprised laughter. He gave them all a rueful grin. "A World Cup, that I, as any self respecting English citizen, was thoroughly disappointed in." There were more laughs and a few groans of agreement. "Not that I am here to promote Quidditch or anything," he added, earning more laughs form the crowd. Oh, yes, they were beginning to fall in love with him.
"I'm sure you've all seen me in the news and I have found that all of this attention and fame has really led me to truly discover the true Draco Malfoy. Why I was reading an article in Witch Weekly and I found out that I was more compatible with Harry Potter, than with myself." Riotous laughter. He gave them all a smile and continued over the laughs. "Harry Potter, who is of course the new Seeker for the Chudley Canons, of which I am the official sponsor, not that I am here to promote Quidditch or anything." They continued to laugh and inwardly he smirked. Oh, yes. They loved him.
He let the laughter die out before continuing. "On a more serious note, this ball is benefiting those of our fellow countrymen who have fallen in on hard times. I believe that it is our responsibility to help our brothers and sisters regain what they have lost, so I would like to thank you all for coming again and supporting those in need. Additional donations can be made by the door. Remember all of the proceeds will be given straight to relief funds. Thank you all, and have a splendid evening."
He left the stage to thunderous applause and he returned to his seat as the announcer took back the podium.
"At this time, I would ask you all to stand as the tables will vanish and the dancing begin."
The guests applauded and stood and the room was transformed under their very feet. The carpet disappeared into a polished wood floor, the tables vanished and smaller ones appeared along the edges with chairs for those who would rather watch then participate. A bar appeared in place of the podium, the lights dimmed, and the music struck up. Couples slowly worked their way onto the floor.
Draco alternated dancing with bejeweled witches and talking business with wizards along the side, some of whom promised to bring back some of their companies. He tried to keep his eye on Ginny only she was dancing and it was hard to keep track of her, though he did see her once or twice in the company of a red robe. It was rather late when he spotted her with a group of witches, rather fashionably dressed witches with diamonds sparkling at neck, wrist, finger, and any other place possible to put a gem. He recognized several of the witches from when he attended parties with his family when he was younger and he knew that whatever they were saying, it wasn't going to be kind.
He excused himself to the group of wizards he was talking to and made his way over to his business manager, picking up the conversation as he approached.
"-your family, Ginevra?" asked one blonde witch in a condescending tone.
"My family is very well, thank you," said Ginny, her tone very polite.
"Now, your brothers are out of work, yes?"
"Some of them," said Ginny. "Although the third and fourth eldest are running a successful joke shop. Perhaps you've heard of it, Weas-,"
"I've heard of it," the witch sniffed. "Rather disgraceful, that shop. So rowdy, so loud, so…garish."
"Oh, I can think of a few more disgraceful things," said Ginny, her voice quite innocent and sweet. "Azkaban for one thing," she mused, but her implications rang clear. The blonde's father and brother were residing in the prison for Death Eater activities. Draco mentally cheered Ginny for the blow, but saw the blonde preparing for a reply, and stepped in.
"Ah, there you are, Ginevra," he said, smiling warmly at her. "I've been looking all over for you." He turned his attention to the group of witches and smiled in recognition. "Mrs. Rebled, how charming to see you again."
"Well, I'll be! Draco Malfoy," said the blonde, giving him her hand. He kissed the back of her hand and allowed a half-smile to hover on his lips. "I haven't seen you since the funeral," the blonde continued. "Such a pity. Anyway, I remember you when you were just an infant. Although I must say," her heavily make-upped eyes raked over his body, "you have grown up quite nicely."
He forced himself to smile at the compliment, although the idea of having a woman his mother's age look him over was wrong on so many levels.
"And you haven't aged a day, Mrs. Rebled," he said, using her title in hopes of reminding her of the age difference.
"Please, call me Desdemona. I feel so old when you call me Mrs. Rebled."
"Of course, Desdemona," he said gallantly. "Will you introduce me to your friends?"
She smiled prettily at him and did so. She was half way through her group when he felt Ginny leave his side, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw her step out onto the balcony. It was a few, agonizing minutes of small talk and banter, in which Desdemona revealed that she was divorced and single now, before he could escape without being rude, and once free of the witches, he stepped out onto the balcony.
It was dark, the only light spilling from the open doorway and the stars. There was no one else on the balcony, as it had only just stopped raining, and there was a definite chill in the air. Draco spotted Ginny sitting at a small table for two, her back to him. He joined her.
"I'll be back to mingling in a moment," said Ginny. "But my feet hurt." She sounded rather petulant and he smiled, looking down at her petite feet in ivory, strappy high heels.
"I'm sorry," he said, deciding to get the apologizing done and over with. He should have known it would never be that easy with Ginny.
"It's not your fault," she said. "I chose the shoes because they gave me an extra three inches even though I knew they would end up killing me."
"No," he said. "I'm sorry for…the other thing."
"What other thing?" she asked, brow knitting in confusion.
He sighed. "When I may have, may have acted…,"
"Acted like a rude git without any manners what-so-ever for no apparent reason?" she finished.
He glared at her; she knew exactly what he was trying to apologize for and she was just making him admit to it all. She smiled sweetly, then shivered.
"You're cold, do you want to go back in?" he asked.
She shook her head, stifling a yawn. "I want to stay out here; I'm not up to more people just yet."
He understood completely. Draco slipped off his dress robes, then walked behind her and draped them over her bare shoulders. She looked over her shoulder at him in surprise.
"You're not cold?" she asked.
"Nah," said Draco. He went back to his seat and gracefully flung himself into it, lounging out comfortably. Come to think of it, he was rather tired as well. He felt eyes on him and he looked up to see Ginny studying him curiously.
"You know, you're not always difficult," she said in response to his raised eyebrow.
"Flattered, I'm sure," Draco drawled.
"That woman I was talking to, you knew her?"
"Was a friend of mother's," said Draco shortly.
"Oh, I'm sorry," said Ginny, shying away from the topic of his family.
"It's fine," said Draco. He honestly didn't care.
"So, it wasn't anything more, then?" asked Ginny, teasing him. "I mean the way she looked at you…," she trailed off laughing at the expression of repulsion on his face.
"She's old enough to be my mother," said Draco, shuddering.
"She didn't look that old."
"With as much make-up on as she has, you wouldn't be able to tell if her skin was green with pink polka dots," Draco said and Ginny laughed again. "What brought that question on?" he asked, once her giggles had subsided. "Usually when a girl asks what the relationship is between a man and a woman, it means she is interested in the man." He raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Are you interested in me Ginevra?"
"Absolutely not!" she responded, cheeks flaming red.
"Well, you are a Malfoy girl," he said.
"And you are getting in one of your difficult moods," she said.
"I like being difficult," he said, shrugging.
"Obviously," said Ginny.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked suspiciously.
"Oh, nothing," she said.
"Look who's being difficult now."
"You must have rubbed off on me."
"Nonsense, we aren't close enough to be rubbing," said Draco, just to watch her cheeks go red again. "But I can fix that," said Draco. He stood and held out his hand. "The final song is playing; dance with me." She stood as well, without taking his hand, shrugged off his robes and put them in his open palm. He pulled them on quickly and then she slipped her arm through his and they entered the party just in time for the final waltz.
She was a good dancer, he decided after only thirty seconds of the waltz. She wasn't afraid to let him lead and she matched him step for graceful step. She was lively too; none of this clinging thing women sometimes did as an excuse to get close. She smiled when they spun and she laughed when he twirled her round and round. Yes, she was a good dancer. He pulled her close as the song slowed and nearly lost himself in the beautiful hazel eyes that looked up at him.
But he distanced himself with a bow and kissed her hand at the end of the dance. He walked her back to the portkey platform and watched her leave, part of him demanding to know why he hadn't taken her in his arms and kissed her good and hard, but the other part knew why and held its tongue.
He pushed thoughts of a certain redhead out of his mind and turned to bid the guests good by that were lining up on the red carpet ready to go home.
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Well, what do you think? Please review! I want to know if there are things I should add or if I am missing things, or if you are confused. Please let me know and review! Now, you, yes you, don't you dare click that back button, click the little bluish button that says "Go" by the submit review box, click it now and write "that was amazing, I want more" or something to that affect. lol