The Private Eye
Stepping out of the large marble fireplace I have landed in I recover my sense of balance and dust the remaining soot of my clothes.
"Jane! Jane." I hear a voice calling me the second time the voice calls me it changes to a silky tone. I turn, there's Malfoy glass of fire whiskey in hand and wand in the other. He gestures somewhat unsteadily to a doorway.
I can see a cream expensive looking parlour beyond. People are milling about the room with cigarettes and glass of alcohol. From somewhere a smooth jazz song is playing.
"Come and meet my fabulous friends. There…just fabulous." He wavered and turned on his heel hand slipping around my waist as he steered me into the parlour.
The party was slowing down, and I couldn't find Pansy anywhere. I walked from the parlour to the large hallway I had entered from. Looking around I could see a very large simple yet elegant stairway leading to the two or three stories above us. On the opposite wall there was a very large white door with was obviously the front door. Beneath my high-heeled shoes was a cream carpet overhead a crystal chandelier hung.
I walked across the hallway ignoring the front door and the stairs to the other doorways on the other side of the hall.
I checked the first it was a living room. The second a study with a large black eagle owl on the desk waiting patiently for his master. I was walking to the third when a voice stopped me.
"Who you looking for Jane?"
It was the very drunk Malfoy. He staggered towards me. Everyone's floo-ed off, except you and me. He gestured to me with his empty whiskey glass for a moment. Then noticed it was empty, his face contorted in to a confused face and he looked around himself as if a bottle would appear.
I smiled as he looked up to me. Malfoy really did look lost, "I seem to have misplaced my vintage malt fire whiskey" I walked up to him.
Best to stick to the truth for as long as possible. "Have you seen you wife?" I asked cautiously.
Malfoy grinned for a moment as if I had made some sort of joke. Then answered "Who?"
"Your wife, Sir." I asked again thinking that perhaps he was a little to drunk to recognise his own face.
"Oh, Pansy." He nodded "You want Pansy?" I nodded and Draco grinned and turned around yelling up the stairs "PANSY!"
I closed my eyes and gingerly touched my temples to try to relive the yell that now reverberated through my head.
"Sorry." Draco mumbled. He must have turned back to me.
"It's alright, Sir." I opened my eyes. Draco suddenly backed away from me. His face contorted again, he recognised me.
He bent down and opened his mouth, no of course he didn't recognise me. He is sick. In fact he has just thrown up all over that creamy carpet. I stepped forwards arms outstretched ready to hold him steady. The sound of steps reached me as Pansy flew from the last step.
"Who the hell do you think you are!" She shrieked at me. Draco made a move with his hand, which silenced her.
"Oh, oh, I get it, this is her is it? Your mistress?" Pansy looked at me like I was piece of meat. Her eyes roamed across my red dress.
Draco seemed to momentarily recover "No. No, she is my PA." He lent over again to retch and groan.
"You. You. Your pathetic Draco, do you hear me. Every time we have a party you get yourself wankered." She jabbed him sharply with a manicured nail. Then turned to me. "Don't expect to last long," She looked at my dress again "your kind never do here."
Then she added as an after thought "Oh make sure he doesn't drown in his own vomit. His room is at the top of the stairs on the left corridor and it's the last door, you can't miss it. It's got a landscape of the Scottish highlands next to it." She looked at me again then at the vomit on the carpet, "Clean that up." With that she left.
"Ignore the wench, she's jealous, because you look stunning in that dress. Forget the vomit." He lazily pointed his wand at it and cleaned it himself. "Don't worry I won't let you get lost." He slipped his arm around me again and steered me to the stairs.
"For a moment there you reminded me of someone." Draco said.
"Who?"
"A schoolgirl I knew who hated being told off by her teachers." He mumbled sleepily.