Several weeks passed without a notable interaction with Malfoy. The first Quidditch game came and passed uneventfully, and the Slytherin common room had been quiet under the pressure of the imminent pre-holiday exams.
I had been processing the altercation for some time now. My guilt and frustrations had boiled down into a well-conceived notion that both of us were probably toxic for each other. My wanton lust for his body coupled with his desperate need to have any other connection besides with Astoria was bound to end in flames. Neither of us seemed to be logically chasing each other, instead more to a means of shallow gratification. Despite Luna's words, that were fairly clear regarding my role as a healer, I was still certain that space was the best choice. He also seemed to be on the same page because he had ostensibly avoided me like the plague. Even when I had dared to glance at him in classes his eyes had been glued to the teacher without a flinch.
It was October 31st; Hallows Eve. My favourite holiday. It was also perfectly a Saturday, and the girls Slytherin bathroom was buzzing with activity. Beautiful, terrifying females clustered together in front of the mirrors as they dressed up festively. There was a myriad of chosen disguises, including magical creatures and famed wizards. One girl had gone so far as to dress up like Peeves in an arguably sexual, and disturbing fashion.
I had chosen a dragon. My face and neck absolutely covered in icy, glittering decor. My long blond hair cascaded around my shoulders, tied only in one place as a thin braid that framed the left side of my face. It had taken 20 minutes alone just to draw the scales on. Darned appropriately over my slim physique was a white-blue dress, long, tight, with full arms and an open back, and with pointed shoulders. The energy from my gait alone was sheer power.
Hilda sighed and turned to me in admiration, "Well, aren't we a couple of rockets." Her sly grin had me returning the gesture. She had dressed as a Slytherin Quidditch player, taking my uniform and madly correcting it to look quite perversely sexual. I had granted her the notion when I'd explained to her in secret my first practice session alone with Malfoy. Her wavy brown hair was down for once, and her blue eyes were shadowed heavily by silver and green.
"I'm excited for tonight," she purred while straightening her gloves on her arms, "the Slytherin Halloween party is elite every year. Gryffindor's practically lose their minds to get invited. Not that they would admit it. Are you bringing Potter?" She glanced towards me with a raised eyebrow.
I watched as my mirror reflection twitched. I hadn't even considered it. It was incredibly rare to see a Gryffindor at the Halloween party in the dungeons. I'd spent a decent amount of time with him over the past few weeks, studying, chatting... he was enamored with me in a way I hadn't experienced before. It was gentle, and careful, and limitless. I had become acquainted with his close friends, who really weren't that insufferable. Although, they seemed to frequently drop hints of guidance and wisdom in my direction like I was a lost dog. Suffice to say I had mastered the art of stifling eye rolls.
One day in the great hall he'd brushed my cheek gently and for a moment I'd thought he was going to kiss me in front of the whole student body, but he then claimed to have just noticed a stray eyelash. The sheer embarrassment of the assumption had caused me to leave the hall abruptly and my lunch had remained entirely untouched.
I studied my highly decorated reflection. I was a dragon. I didn't need to feel any embarrassment and I didn't need to hold back on basic human desires. I would invite Potter, and maybe more than just his presence would be requested, "Mmm, yes I think 'e'll do as a good date," I bit my lip in a saucy grin and glanced at Hilda.
"I got more gin for tonight," She confirmed as she bounced in a dance, excited and gloriously reckless.
"Great, because we all want to see you two fall on your faces before the party even starts. That muggle garbage is putrid," Pansy snorted from a few spots down the line. Other girls laughed in appreciation of the comment. She had a set of demonic horns locked onto her head and a bright red dress. It was the first time I'd noticed her body was competitively fit. I pursed my lips to prevent beginning an argument on the basis of her costume being referenced from a muggle religious system.
It was a fair point she'd made though, as the last time Hilda and I drank we'd both been in the running to face plant. Tonight would be different, though, now that we were experienced with the intoxicant. Or at least, the goal would be to handle it with more grace.
۞۞۞۞۞
Breakfast had been quite interesting. Many students, the vast majority in fact, were dressed up for the holiday. Magical charms drifted listlessly around the room, representing different costumes across the space. I ducked as a bat flew towards my head and just barely skimmed my hairline, drawn back towards the Ravenclaw table by a young warlock dressed as a vampire.
It was no surprise to see that most of the upper year Slytherin boys had no costumes on whatsoever. Malfoy was once again stirring porridge in circles and trying to ignore the conversation at hand. His long blond hair wasn't slicked as usual and hung low over his face, almost covering his eyes completely.
I sat to the left of Goyle who was busy unwrapping and consuming as many candies as possible in a race against Crabbe seated across from us. It felt like an unspoken assumption amongst everyone in their vicinity that this would end with sickness from the concerned glances. Malfoy sent a low, disgusted glare at the growing heap of wrappers blowing towards his food. His had to keep moving his right arm to avoid the offensive pile of plastic that Crabbe was carelessly discarding between them.
My heart dropped when my eyes met Zabini's cold, dark brooding glare, leaning forward from the other side of Malfoy. He had zeroed in on me watching Malfoy with defensive suspicion. He carefully shook his head at me without giving away the interaction between us, but the message was clear; no.
I looked away quickly towards my breakfast with a sinking feeling. I knew I'd left things off with Malfoy quite negatively. He had clearly been upset from the argument and from feeling forced to show his vulnerability in such hostility. What Zabini didn't realize was that I also had been deeply affected by the exchange. Perhaps Malfoy had been talking about me behind my back to his friends, seeking support or guidance. Perhaps they had suggested he avoid me from then on and that would explain his superior self control and ability to avert his eyes from my general direction. Harry was also probably a stressor. Not that I should have had to change who I chose to spend time with in order to impress anyone in the Slytherin house.
I sighed. It really shouldn't matter that they probably thought the worst of me due to the argument with Malfoy. They still had treated me with dignity during Quidditch and that was the bare minimum. I didn't want to have to give up sports because of a tiff with a boy.
"Madeleine, you look positively magical," A fairytale-like voice drifted across the gap between the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables. Hilda and I both turned to face Luna who had a giant pointed unicorn horn protruding from her forehead. Her normally platinum hair was a brilliant bright purple.
"As do you, Luna Lovegood," I grinned.
"Very cute," Hilda said with a blank expression, staring intently at Luna's very long haired, purple coat. I knew she was unsure of Luna's mental health from the way she described the girl to the other Slytherins. I had already asked her more than once to maintain an open mind towards my friends from other houses but it didn't seem to make a dent in her behavior.
Luna wasted no time reacting to Hilda's deconstruction of her outfit, "Hilda I didn't know you were also on the Quidditch team." Her pale face was gently curled up with kindness and inquisition.
"Please. The only broomstick she knows how to ride is the kind she takes to bed," Malfoy had a lopsided grin on his face but he hadn't even turned to look. He didn't even permit us the pleasure of glaring at him as he just kept eating his food.
As usual Luna's face remained stoic but she leaned towards us and whispered, "My cousin prefers to think he's a professor of witty remarks. He doesn't like being left out on other people's conversations, it's just the only way he knows how to join in." Her deep blue eyes twinkled towards me, as if it was perfectly normal for Malfoy to act the way he did.
Hilda leaned back to avoid her own eye from being punctured by the incoming unicorn horn, "He's pathetic and should just stay out of our conversation if he wasn't invited. Madeleine, please tell me you are ready to leave?" She had started to pout when a loud heaving sound erupted at the table.
I turned to see that Crabbe had lost the battle against Goyle; a mound of slimy chocolate had appeared on the table in front of him and on Malfoy's right arm.
"I'm sorry Malfoy," Crabbe cried through a strained voice as he tried to exit the bench.
Malfoy was visibly trying not to gag as he lifted his soiled robe with sheer horror on his face. "Push! Push the bench back you idiot!" He roared as Crabbe grabbed at the edge of the table attempting to evacuate. The entire area including much of the Ravenclaw table was erupting in snickering.
"Push which way?" Crabbe desperately asked, seeming in his fright to have forgotten how to get up from the table bench that was so tightly tucked in.
"What do you mean push which way?" Malfoy was leering at Crabbe in incredulity, "I said push. That means push. Away from yourself!" He lost his temper and shoved the bench back hard so he could leave, Zabini and Crabbe barely had time to collect themselves in the process. In a flash of swirling robes Malfoy had left the room.
"Serves him right," Hilda said, beaming at me. I stared at his retreating figure with the slightest pang in my heart.
By 7pm the Slytherin common room was starting to get packed. The dim green lighting and intense, dark academia style décor had transformed the dormitory into another world. There was a large cast iron cauldron in front of the glass facing into the black lake. Only brave souls would drink from whatever was coming from that, I decided, as I watched the neon purple fog rolling out of it and onto the black floor. A few people had already braved taking a cup and I was curious to see if they transformed into something later or started glowing in the dark.
Peeves had been moving in and out of the room earlier in a fit of excitement, drawn from the bowls of the castle by the festivity. Snape quickly banished him before leaving to retreat into his own office for the evening. He hadn't bothered to do much cleaning from the resulting mess and Ectoplasm still hung threateningly from some of the taller ceiling coves and in small clusters in the corners. Apparently the castle elves didn't prefer coming into the Slytherin common room to clean during wakeful hours due to the large volume of cruel pure bloods.
Most of the boys had been missing since dinner time. It however was not a mystery where they were. There was immense hollering and name calling blasting out from the staircase doorway that led to their rooms. Hilda and I had exchanged a number of possibilities about what they were doing hiding in there.
"They're probably really drunk," she shrugged, trying to yell over the music, "Which we should also be doing. Let's go to our room for a second." She winked at me and I followed, gathering up one side of my long dress.
We opened the door to find Pansy and Astoria standing by one of the beds. Pansy had a sickeningly sweet facial expression plastered on and I immediately sensed she was up to something, "You should wear this one. You could go as a Siren," Her eyes beamed wickedly as she held up a small green dress. Astoria seemed none the wiser to Pansy's intentions and nodded her head, taking the dress.
"If I were you, Astoria, I'd check that dress for snakes first before trying it on," Hilda looked at Astoria as she was leaving to change in the downstairs bathroom. She had reached under her bed for the gin and was standing with the large bottle in her hand, swaying slightly. Astoria sneered down at the liquor in judgement, but said nothing and left with the dress.
I eyed Pansy carefully who just giggled lightly before leaving as well, "Dat is not good," I sighed, taking the gin from Hilda and chugging a large shot.
"Ha! Let the little bitch get what she's had coming," Hilda rolled her eyes. She took a swig and winced dramatically from the taste. I lifted my feet onto my bed in case she was going to hurl.
More screaming in male voices exploded downstairs, this time coming from the common room. The boys had finally joined the party. The music was louder and I vaguely wondered what time Harry and Ron were planning to show up. Harry hadn't given me a direct answer on his arrival time because he'd claimed he was behind on his Arithmancy and needed to study with Hermione beforehand.
Hilda and I sat giggling and drinking for about 30 minutes to the candlelit room and casting transfigurative spells on one of my plants, changing it into a potted gnome, then a potted pixie and so on.
I was choking back tears and trying desperately to stop laughing before I cast my next spell when the door flew open and Astoria came rushing in sobbing. The music temporarily filled the room with intensity before the door clicked shut again. Both Hilda and I became instantly aware of how drunk we were in the sudden onslaught of shrieking and high energy coming from the petite girl.
She was shaking and scratching herself everywhere, tears rolling down her face. I noticed then that her skin was breaking out in boils, spreading down her arms, legs and neck rapidly, "You need to go to de infirmary Astoria!" I cried out, wobbling to my feet in my white high heels. Hilda tried to match me and slipped, but caught herself using her fake broomstick as a prop.
"I know! I know! It was that slut who put me in this dress you were right! And Draco is so messed up right now...I don't even know what drugs he's on but he won't take me to the infirmary!" She yelled every single word and my ears were ringing slightly from my proximity.
"Okay, breathe," I said in my softest voice possible through my choppy French accent. I had made insane progress on improving my English in the last few weeks but it was still far out, "Please, now listen. We will take you, uh, der to dat hospital but you cannot touch us," I motioned to her boils with a wince.
Hilda burped loudly and took another drink from the jug, "Ugh, yeah, we will. Frenchness, be a darling and grab one of my spare robes so we can at least cover her up," She motioned with an unsteady finger towards her trunk. I pursed my lips but obliged, tossing one to Astoria who slowly pulled her arms painfully through the black fabric.
She was crying absurdly and dramatically loud and I ventured at the possibility that some of it was surely for attention, "Draco doesn't even care, he never does! He just laughed at me!" I backed away from the vicinity of her obnoxiously yelling with a wince, noticing Hilda doing the same.
"Okay," Hilda said taking one more large swig, "Let's do this."
She passed me the jug and I downed more myself. My vision suddenly felt blurry as we waited for Hilda to unlock the door and motion us all out. Astoria had the hood up around her pretty face which was rapidly changing and I felt pity welling up for her. I had to use my hand to steady myself against the wall all the way down the stairs and pondered aloud if we had a drinking problem. Hilda just snorted in defiance while waving her miniature fake broom in front of her to divide people out of our way.
When we had almost reached the dungeon exit without trouble a large hand clamped down on my neck and I felt myself being spun around like a spin top. My state of drunkenness was no match for the momentum and I stumbled blindly, caught in the arms of the perpetrator. I scowled up at him.
"Draco, I 'ave to 'elp Astoria." My tone was clipped but it was obvious that I had been drinking. He helped me to my feet and I peered at him trying to discern his odd mannerisms.
He was grinning like a menace, his cheeks were flushed and his blonde hair hung down in an unusually unkempt way. He bit his bottom lip and pulled me towards him by my wrist, "There you are. Thought maybe you'd run off like a traitor to Potter's bed." His silky voice tickled my spine in that soft, low way he typically spoke.
"Ugh," I spat contempt in his direction," You can be disgusting. Are you drunk?" He had a bizarre facial expression on, like he was giddy. He was never this interactive or flirty.
He rolled his eyes but didn't stop grinning devilishly, "Among other things." He turned his head to the side and stared me up and down. My silky blue dress was tight and showed a lot of cleavage. I felt heat rising to my cheeks and darted my eyes away from his to check on Hilda and Astoria who apparently hadn't noticed I had fallen behind. They likely had gone without me to the infirmary. God please help them make it, I prayed, realizing neither of them were in a sound state of mind or body for the journey.
"Among other things? I didn't know you were fond of alcohol at all." I mirrored his statement into a question and raised my eyebrow, "Astoria, 'ave you seen what 'appened to her?"
"Like you'd care what happened to her," his lip curled down in annoyance. He obviously didn't. I realized then that he was wearing a black long sleeved shirt and black joggers. Typical. But what was untypical was how sweaty and fidgety he was.
"She's not extremely, uh, nice, to know, but dat was not right. She's quite unwell Draco." I hiccupped at the end of my sentence, and then again, feeling my stomach turn with the burning heat of the gin. It was hitting like a wave on the beach, a swell large enough to knock a chubby man off of his feet. I stifled a drunk giggle by rubbing my fingers over my lips to hide the smile.
"I don't want to talk about Astoria," Malfoy rolled his eyes again, stepping dangerously close to me, "I want to talk about you." His fingers came up and grazed my chin, his other hand slid around my waist tugging at me, and I felt my entire body freeze. What the heck was wrong with him? He never came onto me, or anyone. He was cold and unhappy literally all the time. I'd had to force myself on him the few times we had made out. And then there was the little matter of Astoria, who was there at the castle that very night, his future wife.
I looked around him to see if anyone was witnessing this absurdity but the crowd was so thick we were surrounded by a wall of jumping and singing people. The room was maddenly dark save for the green torches on the walls and the fire licking away in the monstrous hearth. The air smelled like sweat and the pungent odor of alcohol.
Just then Zabini and Warrington sliced through the crowd and hugged - hugged? - Malfoy, jumping and whooping. They were all so excited and bouncy, they looked like the good twins of their normally spiteful and icy demeanors. Zabini shoved drinks at Malfoy and whispered in his ear, "Where is she then? This ones for her," Then he abruptly noticed that I was standing directly next to him and laughed an odd, startled laugh in my face, "No way! Frenchie!" Malfoy put his free hand over his eyes in embarrassment, his silver ring shining in the dim light. I wondered who her was supposed to be.
I looked at him with a puzzled expression just as Warrington grabbed my right arm, "Hey, you got a boyfriend?" He asked tugging me towards him and Malfoy at breakneck speed. His hand was sweaty as it slid off my wrist and his breath reeked of alcohol. I could feel the room getting dizzy and grabbed onto Malfoy's shirt for support, and he wrapped one arm out around my back for a moment before steadying me and dropping it.
Zabini winked at him, "Have fun, live a little for once," He said in a daring, mocking voice and I burst out laughing the moment he turned away. What the heck was going on? I was too drunk to accept everyone's personalities doing a 180 degree turn. I couldn't wait for Hilda to get back and see the scene for herself.
I was still laughing when I noticed Malfoy had started quietly laughing in equal disbelief with me. He was rubbing his forehead and furrowing his brows but he was laughing, and the sound was so genuine and human that it caused my fit to slowly stop. I caught my breath and looked at him.
Suddenly it felt different between us and I knew he could feel the tension getting thicker. I leaned in and grabbed the drink out of his hand that Zabini had left and cheered his, chugging it back. His eyes went wide, "Wait - ohhh." He winced and stood there with his hand over his mouth, trying not to start laughing again while clearly concerned.
The after taste was exceptionally bitter in my mouth and I smacked my tongue in repulsion, "Is dat a shit English excuse for a drink?" I mused making a face.
"Well," Malfoy snorted loudly, looking down into his own drink and swirling it, "You can take this one too if you want to get rid of that taste. This one is...normal. I think." He looked at me frowning humorously, waiting for reality to sink in. It did.
"Did you drug me?" I shrilled.
"No! No, fuck," He seemed unable to stop laughing and rubbing his face, "I mean, I knew that one had drugs. I was just going to toss it. You drugged yourself." He peered at me slightly nervously. Then he tossed back his drink and put the cup on a nearby table.
He turned back to me and moved swiftly closer, pressing his body against mine. His breath smelled like fire whiskey and smoke. I put my hands on his chest, curling his shirt into my clenching fists and stared straight ahead at his black clothing, just trying to make sense of the rapidly changing state of my body.
I could feel his eyes on my face as I was thinking and feeling the high hit. Euphoria was creeping up in every single nerve ending, in my stomach, in my heart rate that was increasing. I was very drunk and now high, and all of my senses seemed to dance. His body was a searing heat around me, his breath on my eyelashes, he slid his hands around my waist and up the back of my open dress against my sweaty skin. Our bodies were so tight that I could feel his muscles through his shirt on my belly.
My movements became impulsive and I slid my hands up around Malfoy's neck. I breathed in the smell of his cologne and clothing, the piney scent. He bent and kissed me and I let him. I let him slide his hands down my backside and squeeze, he was moaning into kissing me, sticking his tongue in my mouth. He was starving for the affection. I felt him grow hard and throb against my leg. My hands were tugging at his sweaty hair, bringing his face closer to mine. It felt like we were one being, I had absolutely no sense of time or any sense of where my body ended and the air began. The ecstasy of the drug was so sensational it was like being impossibly happy, confident, and hyper. I wanted to stay there and kiss him forever.
I hadn't even thought about anyone else around us until suddenly a crash of wetness rolled down between our intertwined faces and we both stepped back gasping in shock. Warrington had reappeared with a large bottle of Champagne and poured it deliberately over our heads, giggling maniacally, "Room for a third?" He shouted over the loud music. His hand shot out towards me but Malfoy grabbed it like a lightning bolt and pushed him back.
"Absolutely not," he smirked, "Why don't you go find Pansy? I hear she's lonely tonight." He raised his eyebrows expressively, his wet hair looked spiky. It was hard to believe he wasn't shaking with rage from the alcoholic bath. Warrington laughed a brutish drunk chortle slapping his knee. They were all so high it was as though we'd warped to an alternate dimension.
Malfoy grabbed the Champagne in one hand and my wrist in the other, dragging me through the crowd and into the bathroom. A few girls sat lazily in the corner, pointing drunkenly at the ceiling and talking about hinkypuffs. He ignored them and pushed me up against the sink, putting the bottle on the counter and lifting me from under my thighs so I was sitting on the ledge. "Non!" I gasped pushing him away by his chest and gesturing to the other inhabitants of the restroom.
When he saw them he sighed and turned to me looking sly, "It's too busy here. Come to my bed." He was biting his lip again and caressing my hair, staring into my eyes with feverish intensity. He whispered it so the other girls wouldn't hear but they were definitely staring at his extremely uncharacteristic behavior. I reached up my hands on either side of his jaw line and looked into his hazy grey-blue eyes. My whole body was buzzing and I felt like we had to keep moving, but I also had the sense that he was much more intoxicated than I was. He had done the favor for me once. I sighed heavily.
"You told me once dat I was too drunk. Is dis not similar for you now?" I caressed his face with my manicured thumb.
He shook his head shortly to the side to clear his long hair and sent me a perplexed look, "What? No. Don't be ridiculous. I always want you." His eyes widened as he said the last sentence, clearly regretting it. He cleared his throat, "I mean, not always. Obviously." He was slightly slurring his words yet maintaining most of his composure.
The jumbled statement hung in the air between us like an invisible third party pushing us apart. Our breathing was still rapid from our physical states and burning lust. His fingers twisted in my dress by my upper thigh. He was gently pulling me towards him, so gently it was hardly distinguishable, his eyes flickering back and forth between mine for an answer. The girls on the floor stared in awe. I became aware that they would likely pass this event on to Astoria and I shut my eyes with guilt.
He lifted my chin forcing me to look at him. His eyes looked absolutely wild, almost unrecognizable. His hair was a mess from sweat and champagne. His voice came out curt and deep, "Don't deny me this. I'm perfectly capable of judging what I want. Now come to my room," It felt largely like a command and not a question. He bore his gaze into me like we were facing off in a staring contest but his lip was curling in a faint smile.
Without looking away I asked again, "Do you love her?"
A vicious, impatient gleam glinted in his eyes, "You know I don't."