Chapter 5
Soundtrack – Giants Of Latin «I Will Survive – Salsa»
"El, are you ready? Just a little longer, and I'll change my mind about going to this stupid show," Draco shouted displeasedly into the emptiness of the room.
He got ready about half an hour ago, but Elisa was still tidying herself up.
Draco hated waiting, especially because he always had to wait exclusively for women with their endless preparations, as if for the Best Witch of the Year award. Other than that, Draco's money and connections made it possible for him to never kick heels. However, with women it was different. Once they got into their heads a stupid idea that a lady should always be late at least half an hour for a meeting with a gentleman, and now they followed this tradition with pleasure. So El was no exception, even though they had lived together for a long time.
Bored, Draco stared at the invitation to the evening show that someone had left on the coffee table in their bungalow. It was rectangular in shape and small in size, twisted gold letters solemnly shimmered on expensive burgundy hard paper with a symbolic magnolia in the upper right corner. The text was simple – just a few formal words about how happy and satisfied everyone is that Mister Malfoy and Miss Carrera are on vacation at the best resort in the wizarding world, and then an urgent request to attend the entertainment show "Acquaintance Party" that will take place in the Great Hall at 9:00 p.m. Malfoy was well acquainted with the Magnolia's rules, so he knew that he and El were simply obliged to go there, otherwise they would have to pack their bags due to the non-performance of the contract. He didn't really care, but Elisa for sure would be furious.
Draco casually tossed the invitation aside. Who made up the fucking rules anyway? Now, every time this piece of cardboard appears, he will know that he is being forced to do another bollocks again, even if it's for "his own good". That was what the young Veela who had met them this morning had said. And the choice of colour for the invitation – you can't think of a better one: burgundy with gold. Welcome to fucking Gryffindor! The association made Draco's already bad mood even worse. He immediately remembered Elisa's heartwarming story about her wonderful vacation in Egypt with the Weasleys. He wished he hadn't asked her how she knew those redheads. And worst of all, Draco had promised El to be "discreet and considerate" when meeting with "her friends" next time. Only think, she calls these bastards her friends! And on top of that, demands that he tries to be "as nice as possible" with them. He hadn't heard such sheer nonsense since his close friendship with Parkinson, that he didn't fail to inform El about. It's easier for Draco to be "nice" with Dementors than with the Golden Trio, but for some reason, Elisa didn't care about this comparison. "Friends of my friends are my friends too!" – that's what she told him at the end of their conversation and it made Draco's jaw drop.
At these thoughts, Malfoy involuntarily jumped up from the sofa, barely suppressing a keen desire to hit something with all his strength. And how could he have made her that damn promise?!
His inner monologue was suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice with an Italian accent:
"You don't seem to be looking forward to a beautiful evening, do you?" Elisa said, grinning as she entered the room.
She looked gorgeous in her black cocktail dress with a string of pearls around her neck.
"Waiting, by its definition, can't be joyful," Draco stated grimly, looking at her from under his brows. "And I would argue about the beauty of the evening."
El laughed and walked over to him in a relaxed way.
"Mio caro Draco! And when will your pessimism dry up?"
"You mean, my realism? Never", he calmly offered her an elbow, still being far from the good mood.
"Never say never, dear. Fate sometimes plays strange games with us."
With that, El took Draco's arm and they headed for the Great Hall.
The street was stuffy and crowded. The chirping of insects was heard everywhere, and somewhere in the distance pleasant live music was already playing invitingly. Dressed in their most expensive outfits, wizards were coming from all directions, rushing to the show in hope to get the best seats. It was getting dark slowly, and the huge palace of "the Beautiful Magnolia" was littered with millions of coloured lights. Draco couldn't help but notice its incredible beauty.
This is probably the only thing he truly admired at the resort.
Finally, Draco and El entered the Great Hall and stopped for a while, not knowing where to go next.
The hall looked different than it had at dinner. The room was semi-dark, only the bright light of the searchlights partially illuminated it. The stage, surrounded by wide steps glimmering in different colours, now completely occupied the entire right wall. The show has obviously not started yet. At the moment, an Italian band was performing on stage to warm up, singing groovy songs in their native language. Right in front of the stage, a large area with a shiny parquet floor was cleared, on which many wizards were already dancing. The tables this time were moved much closer to each other and there seemed to be no more empty seats.
Draco took Elisa's hand and began to make his way through the dancing crowd to the tables. Every now and then the witches tried to pull him along in a Latin rhythm, but one look from him was enough to stop them from trying. Finally, once he was out of the crowd, Draco took another hard look around the room. His attention was drawn to the centre table in the second row, where a pretty young witch was just leaving. Draco, like a Seeker on a Quidditch field, who saw the Snitch, instantly appeared next to the girl, beckoning El to follow him.
"Excuse me, signorina, is this table free?" Malfoy asked with a disarming smile. To be honest, he knew how to be damn charming, if he needed to, of course.
The witch threw her head up in surprise and gave Draco a quick, appraising look, then broke into a smile of approval.
"Yes, sir, my friends and I decided to move further away. Take a seat, please."
Draco caught the French accent in her speech. It seems that El wasn't lying when she said that wizards from all over the world were staying here.
"Thank you, miss," he said, bowing slightly. "And by the way, your English is amazing!"
The girl blushed rather embarrassedly and said, looking sideways at El:
"Thank you, mister! But I have to go to that outermost table over there. Au revoir!*"
With that, the Frenchwoman dived into the crowd, giving Draco one last interested glance.
"Have a nice evening!" Draco waved after her with the same charming smile, but as soon as the girl finally disappeared into the crowd, relief was instantly reflected on his face. "Looks like we just had some fucking luck, El. Glory to France!"
It seemed that Elisa didn't see the point in starting another conflict over another mini-performance arranged by Draco, and therefore she just nodded and as if trying to calm down the jealousy that was raging in her chest.
"We're at the Magnolia, remember? Everything here is for the best," El smiled tightly, obviously hoping that Draco wouldn't notice her mood.
And although he noticed, he didn't show it.
As soon as they sat down, a bright candlelight instantly lit on their table, making the atmosphere even more festive and romantic at the same time. Besides, out of nowhere, two large glasses on a thin stem and a wine list that allowed to choose the alcohol to taste appeared right in front of them. El chose the famous Italian wine "Orvieto", while Draco chose the national "Marsala". Taking out his wand, Malfoy touched the selected names on the wine list, and at the same moment two exquisite bottles appeared on the table. Draco watched as they opened in sync and now poured the wine into the glasses themselves.
"It's an extraordinary atmosphere here, don't you think?" El asked with a slight half-smile, resting her chin on her hand.
"Hmm, maybe not all so bad," Malfoy agreed, slowly looking around the room. He didn't want to admit it, but he even liked it here: pleasant music, dim light, good wine and a beautiful girl by his side. What could be better?
Draco smiled slightly at the thought, took the glass in his hand and lifted it. He wasn't actually a fan of toasting, but decided to give in to an impulse.
"Let's drink to what makes the atmosphere of this hall really great. To you!"
His words sounded somewhat pompous, but Elisa was flattered. Draco rarely expressed his feelings for her. It seemed that something in his character didn't allow him the freedom of speech that was accepted among her native Italian people. Or maybe he just felt that this attracted Elisa even more, and therefore was so stingy with romantic words? He didn't know himself.
"No, here's to you," El said with satisfaction, raising her glass in response. "If it weren't for you, I definitely wouldn't be here, so the credit is all yours."
They stared at each other in silence for a moment, as if competing, to see who will win.
"Okay, then I suggest you drink to us," Malfoy said after a short pause.
"To us!" El approved the proposal and, clinking glasses with him, drained the glass to the bottom.
Draco could see her watching him, unlike her, sipping the wine in small sips to get a better taste of it. Raising his glass over the candle, Draco peered at the colour of the liquid, slightly narrowing one eye, and Elisa smiled slightly: she knew he was quite good at wine. Well, she was aware that Draco was generally well educated because he knew a lot about almost all areas of life. Once, in response to her question about how he knew everything, Malfoy mentioned with a grim smile that he had someone to compete in knowledge during his school years.
Trying to get rid of those memories, Draco finally finished his wine and said with satisfaction:
"Pretty good."
Elisa didn't say anything to that. She just stared into his features more and more, as if admiring them. Draco knew that his unusual beauty, combined with the crazy energy that drove women crazy, was both a treat and a curse for her. With such a temperamental and jealous disposition, it was difficult for her to withstand the constant attention from women to Draco, especially when he deliberately used his attractiveness. And although she was sure that he was faithful to her, and his whole game of seduction is really nothing more than an easier way for him to achieve a goal, El couldn't fully accept it.
And she often said that she always missed him, even when he was around. And then she repeated that Draco would never belong to her alone – he would always give a piece of himself to each of these women, and each would consider herself special. But she didn't want to be like everyone else and so she did her best not to show her strong feelings – she wanted to appear more independent and strong than she really was.
But most of all, she was desperate that neither she, nor one of these many women, ready to give everything just to be with Draco, could fill the void that had been burned in his soul by the past. Malfoy had told her very little about himself, but it was enough to tell how much those memories hurt him. And so, no matter how hard she tried, there was nothing she could do about it.
Draco, catching the change in Elisa's gaze, asked warily:
"Is something wrong?"
"No, honey, it's just..." El smiled sadly, gently touching his cheek. "I get scared sometimes. I'm afraid that one day I'll wake up in the morning and you won't be there."
Draco took Elisa's hand and gazed into her eyes.
"That's impossible," he said in a serious tone. "Impossible for one simple reason: I never leave without saying goodbye."
El laughed bitterly. Of course, what answer was she hoping for? Did she really think that he would start swearing to love her eternally? It would be foolish to expect such a thing from him – Draco Malfoy, and Elisa knew it, so she just shook her head and turned away, trying to hide the pain so clearly showing on her face right now.
At that moment, as if to save them, a tall Italian man in a neat uniform with a beautiful magnolia badge on his chest appeared out of nowhere right in front of the table.
"Excuse me, lady and gentleman, for distracting you but can you tell me if there are still seats available at your table?"
Draco and El looked around and found that their table was slightly larger than the others, with several empty chairs around it.
"Yes, sir. Do I understand correctly that you want to seat someone next to us?" El asked politely, trying to distract herself from bad thoughts.
"If you don't mind, signorina," the Italian smiled at her obligingly. "You see, unfortunately, we cannot add extra tables to the hall today, and all the seats are mostly taken at this point."
"I understand you, signor, don't worry, we don't mind. It will be just an excuse to meet some new people," Elisa assured the guy and looked sideways at Draco.
He curled his lips in displeasure, but said nothing out loud. After all, he owed her.
"Thank you, signorina," the Italian said with relief, and hastily disappeared into the crowd, apparently afraid they might change their minds.
Draco turned to look at El and raised an eyebrow.
"The best resort in the wizarding world, you say?"
"Oh, stop it, caro mio," El waved him off. "Consider this as a new opportunity to meet some wonderful people and..."
But Draco's rude exclamation suddenly interrupted her.
"Bloody Merlin, what the actual fuck?"
Elisa turned around and once again was convinced that nothing happens by accident at this resort.
"I don't see our Italian friend. And you, Hermione?" Ginny asked, peering into the crowd.
"Neither do I," she said, annoyed, as she took one last look at the uniformed wizards in the hall. "I don't think he's here."
"I think we can ask any waiter for help," Ron said irritably. "We don't have to look for this Matteo."
Hermione and Ginny gave him the same reproachful eyes, but they still didn't argue, because Ron was right.
It's just that the two of them, however, wanted to turn to Matteo for help: he instilled confidence in them from the very first meeting. For some reason, it was believed that Matteo was able to solve any problem they had at The Beautiful Magnolia, and the lack of free tables was obviously a serious problem on their first day at the resort.
Harry, preferring not to waste time, called the waiter over.
"Excuse me, signor, could you help us find a free table for four?"
"Of course, sir," the tall Italian answered quickly, smiling obligingly. "Please wait here! I'll be right back."
After these words, the waiter briskly dived into the crowd and disappeared from their sight.
"The problem is almost solved," Harry turned to his friends, pleased. "Seems that you don't need this Matteo after all."
"Oh, Harry-Harry, I guess, you and Ron aren't destined to comprehend female psychology and understand the true reasons for women's actions," Ginny said theatrically with pretend sadness in her voice, winking significantly at Hermione.
"Are you hinting that the reasons lie not in the professionalism of that Italian, but in those tight shirts he wears?" Harry's eyes narrowed as he slowly approached her.
"Oh, so you've noticed too?" Ginny asked with mock surprise. "Maybe you should also use it to good advant…"
Before Ginny could finish, Harry suddenly grabbed her by the waist and lifted her into the air. She screamed in surprise, but immediately burst out laughing.
Hermione watched with a smile as Ginny, swinging her legs in the air, tried to free herself from Harry's tenacious embrace, and Harry, in turn, didn't want to lower her to the ground until she promised that the topic of shirts would be closed forever.
Many have already begun to look at them, but the lovers didn't care. They were fooling around like children, and at the same time looked so happy that
Hermione couldn't help but laugh softly at them. She liked to observe the relationships of her friends because in her eyes their love was growing stronger and stronger. But Ron, it seems, has not yet been able to get used to the fact that his sister will very soon marry his best friend, whom he himself considered his own brother. Ron felt uncomfortable when the two showed their affection for each other in his presence. Even now, he was shifting from one foot to the other, his face turned away in displeasure. Hermione put her hand gently on his shoulder and smiled softly.
"Ron..."
"It's okay, Hermione, I'm good," he said, frowning a little harshly. "It's just... I can't get used to it."
"Ron, she's not a little girl anymore," Hermione said slightly.
"Yes, I know, I know," he dismissed and stared gloomily into the distance.
Hermione knew that it was better not to bother him at that moment, so she simply stood next to him, looking in the same direction. Right in front of their noses loomed the figures of dancing wizards. They were laughing and singing along to the band. Hermione noticed that she herself was involuntarily beating the rhythm with her foot, humming catchy tunes under her breath.
There was a sense of joyful anticipation in the hall for the upcoming show, because no one knew what was waiting for them. Hermione herself hadn't thought about it, just trying to enjoy every moment. Today's walk had helped her to realize a lot. Hermione decided that if she was in such a magical place where everything was conducive to rest and fun, then she should rest and have fun without thinking about anything. Come what may. Nothing is going to ruin her mood today.
Less than five minutes later, the waiter, who had promised to help his friends, reappeared.
"Sir, I found a wonderful table in the centre of the hall right in front of the stage, but would you mind if two other nice wizards would be sitting nearby?" He asked Harry helpfully.
He looked inquiringly at his friends and, hearing no objection, shook his head.
"Of course not, signor! Thank you so much for your help!" Harry said happily.
The waiter beamed and waved his hand away after bowing.
"Then follow me!"
The Italian maneuvered his way through the dancing wizards so that friends could barely keep up with him. Hermione walked next to Ginny, who had to be pulled back every now and then to keep her from dancing. The hall was filled with rousing music, a pleasant floral fragrance was in the air, and colourful lights seemed to invite everyone to join in the enthusiastic fun. Hermione rarely attended parties, and even then, only those that were timed to coincide with some super important events, like Bill's wedding or Hogwarts prom. Therefore, she felt a little uncomfortable, however, it didn't prevent her from enjoying the atmosphere that reigned in this beautiful hall.
Finally, they emerged from the crowd, and Hermione followed the Italian around the tables. Didn't he say that they'd be sitting somewhere in the centre?
Hermione looked around for the centre table with empty seats and froze. She blinked in shock, hoping desperately that she was imagining things. Therefore, if not, then in the second row in the center was none other than Draco Malfoy. But this is still half the trouble: it was his table that had empty seats. Hermione's stomach dropped, and she involuntarily slowed her pace, looking at him dumbfounded.
Anything but that. Malfoy, as if sensing her gaze, turned sharply and froze in disbelief.
"Signorina, please, keep up," the waiter turned to Hermione and, without waiting for an answer, he strode confidently back to that very unfortunate table.
Hermione hastily looked away from Malfoy and, trying to pretend not to notice him, calmly followed the Italian. She frantically looked around, hoping to find another empty table, but the closer they got to Draco Malfoy, the faster her hopes collapsed like a house of cards. Hermione could feel Draco's gaze, but on principle tried not to look at him, as if hoping that by doing so, he could disappear. Maybe it'd help. Matteo himself said that all wishes are fulfilled at this resort. This thought encouraged Hermione a little, and she even smiled slightly, continuing to wander around and pointedly ignore the blonde crown. But her attempt was ruined by Ron's harsh voice:
"Don't tell me we're going to have to sit at the same table with him!"
Hermione couldn't help but look up and see that the Italian had stopped at Malfoy's table and was now waiting with a satisfied smile for the four friends to approach him. Draco was looking at Hermione quizzically, and Elisa was peeking over his shoulder in surprise, who Hermione hadn't noticed at first.
"Here's your table and those lovely wizards I was talking about!" persistently said the waiter, obviously not understanding the strange reaction of the tourists, who had asked for help themselves, and now for some reason were in no hurry to sit down on the empty seats.
"Oh, grazie, signore!**" Elisa quickly thanked the waiter for the compliment and turned her surprised gaze to the friends standing in front of her. "Ginny, bella, what a surprise!"
"I've always hated surprises," Draco muttered to himself, continuing to scoff at their stunned faces.
"That's for sure, a complete surprise!" Ginny said quickly, pushing Hermione aside and smiling as she moved closer to the table. "Good evening Elisa! And... Draco."
Malfoy nodded slightly in response and picked up the glass.
The intermission is over, the show continues.
"And good evening to you all!" Elisa smiled back, casting a glance at the others, and added: "Come on, come here! Have a seat!"
Ginny shot a warning glance at Ron and Harry and sat down next to Elisa. Harry reluctantly followed her, nodding gloomily to Draco instead of greeting, while Ron defiantly turned away, preferring to ignore Malfoy completely.
It all looked like someone's bad joke. Hermione wanted to cry and laugh at the same time at the comic situation. And she really hoped for a normal, pleasant evening spent in the company of the people most dear to her. Her grandmother had once told her correctly – you should never make any plans. But maybe it's not too late?
Hermione seized on the thought and, after greeting Elisa, quickly walked over to the waiter.
"Tell me, signor, are you sure that there are no more empty seats at any of the tables?" she asked him softly.
"Unfortunately, yes, signorina. Are there any problems?" the Italian looked at her with concern.
"Yes... I mean, no, I was just wondering," Hermione assured him, and with a forceful smile, added: "Thank you for your help!"
"You're welcome! If you have any questions, just let me know, bella!" answered the waiter and Apparated with a dull pop.
Hermione looked longingly at the place where the Italian had just been. Yeah, the situation could be much better. She couldn't imagine that her first evening in the Magnolia she would have to spend in the company of Draco Malfoy, who would probably try to ruin the whole night. What's more – his mere presence was already a powerful blow to self-control. This thought made Hermione involuntarily angry. Well, no. Whatever it is, she couldn't stop enjoying her well-deserved vacation.
Throwing her head proudly and then forcing herself to smile, Hermione finally turned around and looked at the table. Ginny and Harry sat next to Elisa, but Ron wasn't so lucky, because he had to take a seat to the right of Draco Malfoy. Another empty chair was next to Ron. Hermione thought that if not for her, Ron would hardly have tolerated such proximity to Malfoy.
Hermione walked over to the table with a sigh and sat down next to Ron. Elisa was just talking enthusiastically about something, but it was obvious that everyone present felt ill at ease. Ginny smiled tightly occasionally looking anxiously at Harry, who kept his wary gaze on Malfoy.
Draco sipped his wine in silence peering into the liquid at the bottom of the glass. And Ron sat with his arms crossed over his chest looking like if there was a huge pile of dung under his nose.
"Oh, Hermione! I was just telling Ginny about how great the beach is. Have you been there yet?" Elisa called her carelessly, trying to strike up a conversation.
"Yes, the beach is amazing" Hermione answered absently, thinking in advance – just in case – under what pretext she could leave. Could she pretend to be sick? Or pretend that she forgot something in the bungalow, and then just stay there? She can even say that she merely wanted to sleep: after all, the first day of vacation brought so many impressions.
"I think, El, our companions need to relax a little. For example, have a glass of good wine," Malfoy's voice interrupted Hermione's thoughts. Did it sound... friendly?
Everyone stared at Draco warily. There was silence at the table. Malfoy looked at them calmly and said lazily:
"I assume silence is a sign of consent? Okay, I'll just choose something for my taste."
With that, he took the wine list and casually touched one of the names with a tip of his wand. A transparent glass bottle of a beautiful elongated shape with white wine immediately appeared in the air. Its label showed a sunset reflected in the sea with delicate pink highlights, and against the backdrop of the sun going into the water, seagulls flew over and over again.
Then as if remembering something Draco turned the page and touched another title. Following the wine, a glass with an orange liquid appeared on the table.
"Why the hell are you so caring, Malfoy?" Harry asked with gloomy wariness, voicing the question that was on the tongue of everyone present.
"Oh, I'm just trying to be nice, Harry," Draco replied nonchalantly with a beaming smile. Potter clenched his hands into fists, but said nothing: he promised
Ginny not to get involved in a fight with Malfoy next time. But it was clear that he wanted to wipe that poisonous smile from Malfoy's face!
"Draco," El said warningly looking down at him.
"What? Are you against wine?" he asked raising an eyebrow, and with a movement of his hand stopped the bottle which was about to start pouring the delicate golden liquid into the glasses.
"I just hope you remember our conversation," El said quietly through her teeth while maintaining a deceptively good-natured expression on her face.
"Of course, dear," Malfoy nodded with a smirk and whispered conspiratorially in her ear: "That's why I'm taking care of your wonderful friends."
Draco snapped his fingers at these words, and the bottle poured wine into three empty glasses and gently sank onto the table. Next, Malfoy pointed his wand at the carafe which filled the last remaining glass with orange liquid. Another click – and the vessels flew to different sides of the table to each of those present. Next to Hermione was a glass of orange liquid.
"What is it, Malfoy?" Ron asked disgustedly.
"This, Weasley, is one of the finest white Italian wines, right, El?" he turned to his girlfriend.
"Yes, Draco is right," she answered carefully wondering what he was up to. "This really is an excellent wine."
"Don't play dumb, Malfoy," Ron said roughly. "I'm asking about Hermione's glass. What did you pour her?"
"Ron!" Ginny called out warningly. But Draco didn't care about the Weasleys style of speaking. He looked as if he had just noticed that something else was poured in Hermione's glass.
"Ah, this..." he nodded bored towards the decanter. "Don't worry, Ronald, it's just pumpkin juice."
Pumpkin juice. Hermione told herself to stay calm. It is a wonderful evening with pleasant music and some ferret can't spoil her evening? She should simply ignore him, not succumb to provocations. Relax and have fun. Just relax and have fun.
"Why did you pour her pumpkin juice, Malfoy?" Harry cut in glaring at Draco.
"Aren't there too many questions for the first minute of a lovely conversation?" Draco asked calmly with slight frowning while he was filling his glass with red wine.
"Answer!" Harry and Ron snapped at the same time, causing Malfoy to put the bottle back in its place with displeasure. He looked at them as if they didn't see something obvious. For a while he was silent and was looking from one to the other, but soon his expression changed dramatically. Draco seemed to have some sort of realization. He gave Hermione an expressive look as if he'd just learned that she had enslaved all the house-elves in the world.
"Granger, do you drink alcohol?!" Draco finally exclaimed in mock surprise with widened eyes.
Hermione was ready to kill him. Malfoy was mocking. But no, she shouldn't pay attention to him. He's not worth it. Although, if she reaches out to the glass and turns around, it will be very easy to pour this pumpkin juice right on his head.
"Shut up Malfoy," Ron spat hatefully. He had almost reached the highest point of his anger and was ready to start fighting at any moment.
"Wait, Ronald, I'm not talking to you right now," Draco said in the tone of a worried mother and turned his gaze back to Hermione. "Granger, I'll pour you some wine, if you insist, of course, but what about your whole reputation as a prim, pristine and decent student from Gryffindor? Although no, with "pristine" I went too far."
Hermione mechanically grabbed onto Ron, who was almost raising his fist to strike, and narrowing her eyes angrily, she blurted out Draco in the face:
"Thanks for looking after my reputation, Malfoy, but if I were you, I'd rather think about yours. You see, being too attentive to people doesn't at all correspond to your real image as a pathetic Death Eater."
Malfoy's eyes darkened, and there was no trace of feigned concern left.
"Hold your tongue, Mudblood, or I'll have to remind you what your real image is. Although I'm sorry, I've already reminded. You see, dirt always catches your eye involuntarily."
Hermione took in more air to answer, but El exclaimed:
"Stop, it's enough already!"
Everyone turned to her in surprise. The Italian looked angry.
"If you're so impatient to have a discussion about your damn relationship, you can do it any other time," she barked caustically, flashing her eyes. "And you, Draco, should be ashamed of your words.
We both know that the purity of blood isn't important. I mean, now you know it for sure."
Hermione looked at her with wide eyes. She had never seen anyone from Malfoy's inner circle shame him, especially in the presence of people he hates. And that statement by Elisa about the purity of blood... Did she and Draco discuss this? Then the Italian should know how much Malfoy hates Muggleborn wizards.
At school, the word "Mudblood" was his favourite insult to Hermione.
But what Elisa said was thought-provoking. What did she mean by saying that now Draco knows for sure that the purity of blood isn't the main thing? Had Malfoy told her about something that made him treat Muggles differently? It was hard to believe. But, on the other hand, he probably trusts Elisa much more than all his henchmen put together, so he can tell her a lot. She wondered how Malfoy would rehabilitate himself after such words of his girlfriend: would he start making excuses or go into attack? Or maybe he would leave, making a scene and saying that Elisa is talking utter nonsense? It would be just perfect. Not to see Malfoy, not to hear his poisonous words, and just to calmly enjoy the evening – isn't it just a little, but happiness? Hermione smiled faintly at her thoughts and waited with gloating anticipation for the development of events.
But to her disappointment, Malfoy didn't act the way she expected. He just exhaled noisily, and after a few seconds, one of those nasty socialite smiles appeared on his face, which he condescendingly bestowed on those whom he considered more stupid than himself. "Of course, El, that's not the point," he said conciliatory, and casually leaned back in his chair. "I was just trying to be friendly, although the consequences were, as you can see, very dire."
What, that's it? Is that all he could answer?! Hermione was disappointed. Did he really just agree with Elisa so easily?
El glared at Malfoy who was pretending to be holy innocence and snorted in displeasure. It became obvious to Hermione that the skunk simply doesn't want to argue, and therefore agrees with her while remaining unconvinced. Sly bastard.
"Oh Malfoy, do you know what friendliness is?" Ron snapped contemptuously, wrenching Hermione out of her reverie. From the very moment they sat down at the table, it was clear that he wasn't abandoned by a wild desire to strangle Draco.
"Stop it, Ron!" Ginny said sternly. "Or..."
But she didn't get a chance to finish, because suddenly the hall was illuminated with a bright flash of light and again plunged into the festive twilight. Solemn music began to play, the sound of fanfare announced that the show was about to begin. The wizards who were on the dance floor scattered hastily to their places, and the waiters fussed more than ever, helping the guests to sit down. In the end, the parquet floor in front of the stage remained empty, illuminated only by the bright, wandering spotlights. But suddenly something happened that plunged everyone present into bewilderment: the hall was covered with pitch darkness, and it became so frighteningly quiet that some of the wizards began to fuss in fright. Hermione tried to make out at least something, but her eyes stubbornly didn't want to get used to the darkness. She couldn't even see the faces of her friends, and only by feeling Ron's hand, she was convinced that they were still here and didn't go anywhere. "What the fuck?..." she heard Malfoy's voice somewhere to her right, and for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel annoyed. It's just that this time he voiced her exact thoughts, in not such nice manner, of course. And then Hermione caught a strange growing sound. It looked like someone was beating a rhythm on an instrument she didn't know. By ear, it was a mixture of drums and accordion. The sound got louder and louder. Hermione's musical knowledge wasn't too broad, but she seems to have understood exactly what this rhythm is inherent in.
"Damn it, this is tango," Ginny said aloud, and at that moment the polyphony of many musical instruments joined the lonely musical tone.
The entire part of the hall where the stage and parquet were located, instantly lit up with a ghostly golden light, and the bright, scorching music finally completely absorbed the entire space. Holding her breath, Hermione waited for at least someone to appear on the stage, but it was still empty. And only when she turned her head and looked around, she saw that everyone was staring upward. Hermione followed their gazes and froze as magnificent couples descended from under the dome of the hall, dancing passionate tango right in the air. They were like heavenly creatures with their unearthly beauty, and they moved so easily and quickly to the rhythm of the music, descending lower and lower to the audience and creating amazing dance patterns. The girls were dressed in bright scarlet long dresses, dotted with what seemed to be billions of precious stones, shimmering in golden light, and their hands were tightly covered with long satin gloves, emphasizing the graceful lines. The guys dressed in black tailcoats, confidently led their partners, with all the passion they convey the spirit of such an intriguing dance as tango. Hermione didn't doubt that all the dancers were descendants of Veela, because ordinary people are simply physically incapable of being so graceful and beautiful at the same time.
The music developed increasing the tempo and adding more and more violins and accordion, and the dancers were moving faster and faster, and they were already like a single whole, blinding the beauty of the movement to all those who watched them. A strong, almost tangible tension was felt in the air, powerful energy of passion covered everyone present. The ecstatic exclamations and astonished sighs of the wizards were heard everywhere.
The couples were already hovering about three feet above the parquet when suddenly the rhythm of the music changed, and the dancers quickly dispersed away from their partners to different sides of the hall in such a way that the girls were on one side and the guys on the other. Hermione couldn't take her eyes off the lovely Veela. Now she very clearly saw their perfect faces and bodies, striking in their plasticity. And suddenly the dancers' long dresses were transformed into new outfits. The Veela costumes still shimmered with precious stones playing in different shades, only now the girls were dressed in short bright skirts of different colours, beautifully flying apart in motion, and lace blouses tightly closed in front and completely exposing the back from the back.
Hermione blinked in surprise and looked at the guys, whose costumes had also changed. They donned black trousers and bright shirts to match the colour of their partners' skirts.
"It's amazing!" she admired aloud, glancing at her friends. As she thought, everyone at the table was just as amazed as she was and holding their breath as they looked at the dancers. Only Malfoy sipped his wine coolly and seemed completely indifferent to what was happening.
Hermione shook her head in disgust and turned her gaze back to the dancers. She almost forgot about his presence and wasn't going to break this pleasant illusion.
Meanwhile, the couples were already practically touching the parquet with their toes, moving incendiary to the Latin American rhythms. Hermione didn't tell anyone, but as a child, her parents took her to dance classes for a couple of years, so now she could say with confidence that couples were dancing the cha-cha-cha dance. She involuntarily plunged into memories of those times when she wasn't yet a student at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry but lived the life of an ordinary normal child. She went dancing classes, met friends, attended a nearby Muggle school, and read fairy tales. But everything changed the moment she saw a strange owl with a letter in its beak on the windowsill of her house. After that moment not a trace remained of a carefree childhood. Already in the first year of her studies at Hogwarts, she was faced with such things that are sometimes beyond the power of adult wizards. And she was just a small ten-year-old. And this was only the beginning of such a difficult, but interesting path.
"Mother of God, that's what I call a real show!" Ron's enthusiastic exclamation brought her out of her pensive state. Hermione flinched in surprise and focused her attention on the stage. She didn't even notice how the music changed again, and all the dancers had long gone down and were now dancing on the parquet right in front of the guests' tables. Frowning, Hermione finally realized what exactly served such indescribable delight of her ex-boyfriend: beautiful Veela, who had changed their outfits again, now defiled in only sparkling swimsuits, allowing everyone present to appreciate their excellent physical characteristics. The dancers wore twisted hats on their heads with long fluffy feathers, and on their backs they had large feather frames. Hermione had already guessed from these costumes that they were dancing the samba. The action on the stage resembled a Brazilian carnival, the riot of colours dazzled. Finally, the dancers lined up in a diagonal criss-cross and, to the final chords of the music, froze in beautiful poses. There was a storm of applause from all sides, it seemed that the people had gone crazy. As if undergoing a single impulse, the wizards jumped up from their seats and began to give a standing ovation. Ginny was the first to follow their example from their company, then Elisa and Ron, and the last to get up were Hermione and Harry. Malfoy remained to watch the frenzy on the spot with an arrogant grin, although he rewarded the dancers with rare claps.
"Bravo!" Ron shouted folding his hands near his mouth and looking longingly at the beautiful Veela. Hermione felt a slight pang of jealousy but didn't show it: after all, Ron is free to behave as he wishes since they haven't dated for a long time.
The dancers were still standing in their places when the sound of fanfare filled the hall again, and a tall, mature man with a stately appearance entered the stage. He was dark-skinned, dark-haired, and Italian. The lower part of his face was framed by a black beard, and the dark eyes, as if seeing through everyone present, exuded incredible strength and sincere good nature at the same time.
"God, Draco, that's him," Elisa grabbed Malfoy's hand in amazement and began to peer at the wizard standing on the stage opening slightly her mouth.
She seemed to know who this handsome Italian was, but Hermione's thoughts ended there. She just waited with interest to see what would happen next.
Meanwhile, the man was looking around with a smile at all those present, then he raised a wand to his throat and muttered an incantation, loudly said:
"Buona sera,*** dear ladies and gentlemen!"
The hall was immediately filled with applause even louder than before, and many greeted the wizard with joyful hooting. After waiting for a little for the first wave of delight to subside, he continued:
"My name is Lorenzo, and I'm the owner of the best resort in the wizarding world – "The Beautiful Magnolia"!"
The audience applauded again, but the man motioned for them to stop and continued:
"It's no secret that special magic works on the territory of the resort to help to change your life for the better. And the fact that you, dear guests, are here, is also no accident! Therefore, I sincerely congratulate you on such a wonderful opportunity – to enjoy all the delights of the Magnolia and to fulfill your innermost desires! For some, the events taking place here will seem like an unexpected revelation, and some won't even be surprised at the resulting situations, but in any case, remember always that the magic of the resort is limitless and so strong that any little thing that seemed to you a mere coincidence can play a fateful role in your life! I promise that here you will find your true happiness, even if it's not always clear to you in ways. In the meantime, I wish you with all my heart just enjoy a wonderful vacation! In turn, my colleagues whom you can recognize by uniform gowns and good mood and I will do our best to make every day like a fairy tale for you!"
Lorenzo vigilantly scanned everyone present and, finally outstretched his arms to the sides and said proudly:
"Benvenuti ne "La Bella Magnolia"!****"
After these words, the audience burst into deafening applause again, and the wizard, bowing slightly, Apparated, dissolving in the ghostly light of the searchlights.
Incendiary music played again, and Hermione turned to Ginny. "So this is who he is, the real owner of the Magnolia! I read so much about him, but for some reason, I never saw his name anywhere."
"He reminds me of Professor Dumbledore in some way," Ginny said with a note of sadness in her voice. "He seemed to be giving his speech in the same way just before the start of the school year at Hogwarts."
"Yes, only he usually had it half as long," Hermione said with a sad smile and involuntarily glanced at Draco. He noticeably darkened, apparently recalling the most terrible year in his life. The year Professor Dumbledore passed away, and it was partly his fault. Of course, Malfoy knew that the old wizard was doomed, knew that his mother had asked Severus Snape for help, knew about an Unbreakable Vow, he knew too much, but he couldn't change anything. Therefore, Hermione was sure that this terrible feeling of disgust for himself still burned him from the inside, forcing him at times to almost climb the wall from an intolerable feeling of guilt.
She couldn't understand how she knew so much about Draco's agony and torment. She couldn't explain exactly why it was all so obvious to her.
She suddenly felt unconsciously sorry for Malfoy. He may be an utter tosser, but such a punishment can't be wished even for him.
"Draco, I have to go find him," Elisa said hotly, clutching his hand, which attracted Hermione's attention. El's gaze was almost insane, and she seemed restless.
Hermione saw Malfoy hurriedly chase away the bad thoughts and turning his eyes to Elisa he said gravely:
"Should I go with you?"
She shook her head intensely from side to side.
"No, please stay here. I have to... I want to do it alone, okay?"
Her speech was confused and nervous. Draco looked into her face with an inquisitive silence as if he doubted her words, and then finally he asked:
"El, are you sure?.."
"Yes, I'm sure. Please wait for me here. I'll come as soon as... You understand," Elisa tucked a lock of hair behind her ear in excitement and jumped up from her seat.
"Hey, El, where are you going? The show is only starting!" Ginny asked in bewilderment, grabbing the Italian by the hand.
She stood for a moment, glanced at all those present and tried to smile:
"Sorry, but I have to leave you temporarily. I'll try to come back as soon as possible!"
Hermione frowned slightly as she watched the picture in front of her. She wondered what happened to Elisa and where was she going? Does it have something to do with Lorenzo?
Meanwhile, El had already moved a few steps away from the table and, turning one last time shouted to Draco:
"Promise that you will wait for me here, okay?"
After these words when Malfoy doomy nodded, she quickly disappeared into the crowd.
Au revoir! – (fr.) Goodbye!
Oh, grazie, signore! – (it.) Oh, thank you, signor!
Buona sera – (it.) Good evening!
Benvenuti ne "La Mia Bella Magnolia!" – (it.) Welcome to My Beautiful Magnolia!