A/N: Two words. Halfblood Prince.

Read it. Adored it. A must read…as if anyone was planning to skip it. As it stands I'm working on re-working my long-term Plot a little so that it matches up(yeah, even though you probably couldn't tell I do have this story planned in detail through 7th year). It won't change too much in the near future, but I can promise that Alex/Draco goodness will probably proceed faster than it would've before.

Thanks for your patience.

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Draco tugged on his sock again, before sliding his feet into his dress boots. Slim fingers pulled on the laces, tightening the supple leather around his upper calves. Standing, he wiggled his knees until the crisp black fabric pants fell back into place.

A half-hearted yawn escaped his mouth and Draco reached above his head, stretching.

"Oh put a shirt on, Malfoy!" Greg said, flicking him in the stomach with his robe as he walked past. "No one wants to see your pretty pecs."

"Yet you're the only one who noticed them, Goyle."

Draco missed Greg's response as he pulled his shirt over his head, but Blaise's shout of surprised pain made it clearly through the cloth. He gave a hasty yank and freed his head.

Blaise was on the floor, engaged in an enthusiastic wrestling match with Greg. Draco laughed at them both as he stuffed his arms into the shirt's blouse-like sleeves.

"Come on, old boy." Vince waded calmly in and grabbed a handful of Greg's collar. "You know what Bellmonte would do if you marked up her boy toy."

"What are you talking about?" Greg sputtered, straightening. "I wasn't anywhere near Draco."

Blaise let out an entirely unflattering snort. "Oh if she heard you."

Draco scoffed and crossed over to the mirror. "I am not a boy toy," he said, casually fluffing his hair. "I am a kept man."

The other boy finally picked himself up off the floor with a shrug. "Suit yourself. I am a boy toy."

"And I am not listening to this. I'm outta here."

"I'm with you Vince. Try not to take too long primping, girls."

Blaise's response was smooth, elegant and not entirely anatomically possible. Greg just grinned and waved as he shut the door behind them.

With them gone silence fell, and Draco absently tied the cuffs on his sleeves. The shirt itself was loose and breezy, and pale icy blue. He reached back and grabbed his robes. They were black with silver lining. His mother had planned and sent him out the whole thing as soon as she'd found out about the Ball.

It was as close as she'd come to the dreaded Ice Prince wardrobe he'd suffered through years ago…had suffered until one day when he'd snapped and coldly told her that if she wanted a ghost as an escort she could very well use one, but he wouldn't play the part anymore.

He snickered at his reflection. The look on her face had been amazing. After that she'd dressed him in solid black for weeks until someone had asked who had died. After that he'd been allowed to dress himself….mostly.

One last fluff of his hair, a quick fastening of the frog-clasp at his throat and he was Public Perfect once more.

"Don't take too long, Blaise," he admonished on his way out the door. "You have a date waiting for you."

"I'm not going to feel sorry for you, Draco," Blaise called after him as he descended towards Common Room.

"I didn't ask you to," Draco muttered to himself sliding his hands into the pockets of his pants. Parchment crackled and his mood turned a little sour.

The clothes had come with a price tag. A letter from his mother. It was less than her usual chatty missives…but more. One line sticking out in his head.

"Things are changing, Draco. For good or ill, stay alert."

Worry settled sharply on his forehead and he wove through the jazzed chaos of Common Room without really noticing it. She was obviously concerned, but 'things are changing' made it impossible to define the threat.

Draco grumbled softly to himself. Wishing his mother would, for once, write him a letter that was straight forward and helpful. Instead of acting like The Enemy (whoever that was) was reading over his shoulder.

The halls outside his House were cool and quiet. Quite the perfect place for worry to consume him into a full-on brood. But Draco was having none of it.

Tonight he was going to have fun and, if the opportunity presented itself, make his move to secure his new girlfriend.

He felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth and didn't fight it. There were problems and obstacles to the relationship, some massive in scale…but dammit she was just so amusing! Oh true, she did have a date tonight, but that didn't bother him. Donovan and him were on…while not precisely friendly term, still terms of a kind. It would be good enough.

Having successfully shaken off his gloom, Draco's stride took on a more distinct swagger as he paced towards the Entrance Hall. The closer he got the more people there were and not all of them his Housemates.

After a while the sounds of too many conversations in too little space rolled towards him through the dungeons, but even through all of that he was able to pick out one distinctly familiar voice.

"Oh really?" Pansy and, he tracked her words and finally found them, her…dates?

Three Ravenclaws circled her down a side hall and the girl herself looked something less than happy about it all. Draco hesitated.

"Look ,Slytherin-"

"That is the third time you've told me to 'look' and I'll ask you for the third time; Look at what, you pubescent bookworm!" she snarled back coldly.

So not a friend then. Draco growled a little in the back of his throat. How dare….

Straightening and putting on the frigid 'Malfoy' persona, he joined the group.

"Pansy," he greeted, sliding in next to her. "Early as usual. I apologize for making you wait."

She sent him a look that said 'I can handle this' and 'Thank you' at the same time.

"You're forgiven, Draco."

He inclined his head. "So, who're your friends?"

Pansy smiled. "They aren't," she replied cheerfully.

"Really?" Draco raised an eyebrow significantly and watched as all three paled. "Well, if they're not friends of yours, there's this one spell I've been dying to try."

He slipped a hand into his pocket where his wand was currently residing and grinned evilly.

"You wouldn't dare, Malfoy!" one particularly brave soul snapped.

Every fiber of his being demanded that he snap, "Wouldn't I?" and attack the other boys. But he'd been trained better than that. He slowly let all of the tension drain from his body and laughed.

It was, quite probably, the last thing they expected, and, as per plan, the sudden and random appearance of a laughing Malfoy completely freaked them out.

They shifted uneasily, exchanging glances, then, almost as one, they all turned and walked away…very quickly.

The instant the Ravenclaws were out of sight Draco sobered, his grin dropping into a scowl.

"Are you alright?"

Pansy's shiver was barely noticeable as she gazed after the three boys. "Fine."

"Good." Draco eyed the secluded hallway as if it was to blame. "Why were you down here?"

"I was over there." She pointed at a well lighted crossroads farther down. "Waiting for my date."

"Date?"

"Yeah, Eddie Boles." Pansy frowned angrily. "He was late. The Ravenclaws weren't."

"Yeah," he said noncommittally. "Come on. I'll find Milli for you."

Pansy nodded, resigned finality on her face as she took the arm he offered with a bow.

"Filch has been busy," she commented. The Entrance Hall had little up in the way of decorations, but the whole place practically shown. The high window lit the huge room, firelight reflecting off their dark surfaces.

Draco leaned closer to her to be heard in the chaos. "I doubt we'd be able to find a spot of dirt within ten miles."

"For all he's an annoying terror, he really is good his job," she replied politely.

Scanning the crowd, Draco spotted the clear space around his two cronies easily. "Come on. I see them."

He led her further into the room, guiding her and protecting her from the twisting, jostling throng. When Greg spotted them he used his well-earned reputation to clear the rest of the way for them.

"Goyle." He bowed Pansy off his arm and onto his dorm-mate's. "The lady needs looking after."

"Of course," Greg said immediately, looking at his new date in concern. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," she repeated with a sigh. "Just fine, but I'd like a word with Eddie if you happen to find him."

She knows me too well, Draco decided. She knows I'm going to go track him down.

"I'll keep an eye out. Good evening. Ladies." Draco inclined the top half of his body towards them and took his leave.

As he walked away he heard Milli ask, "So what happened?" He smirked. The story would be all over Slytherin House before the Ball was over. Eddie was in for it. And soon if Draco had anything to say about it.

He scanned the mass of humanity again looking for any of the sixth-year boys. He spotted Donovan easily, standing apart on the stairs, but as Draco approached, Alex cut across to join her date. Draco sighed, but now wasn't the time, so he went in searching of someone else.

He came across Hunter, chatting amiably with his date, just as the doors to the Great Hall slid open.

"Dethart!" he called, joining him amidst the rush into dinner.

"Good evening, Draco," Raya greeted kindly.

"My lady." Draco bowed. "Don't let me interrupt, I just wanted to know if you've seen Eddie."

Hunter frowned. "Not recently. Why?"

Draco's eyes sparked with anger. "He was supposed to be escorting Pansy."

"Supposed to?" Hunter glanced over at the younger boy as he pulled his date closer to keep her from being run over.

"She got cornered by a trio of Bird Brains."

Hunter froze mid-step and growled. "I'll let you know if I find him," he snapped.

"I'd appreciate it." He smiled at the visibly angry girl. "Please don't let this upset your evening. I won't take up anymore of your time." Bowing yet again, he headed off.

After a few interesting moments of dodging and weaving, Draco found himself a seat. It wasn't exactly near anyone he knew, but it did afford him a good view of the Hall.

The colors of the four Houses spun dizzily across the walls, separated by the muted colors of greenery that kept the vibrancy from becoming overwhelming. The Hogwarts Crest was also very much in evidence and while the whole show was rather ostentatious, it did come across with a quiet dignity that made what would have been offensive merely exuberant.

The Headmaster leaned forward and ordered his dinner from his plate.

It was the good cutlery, Draco noted as he breathed the pine-laden air and considered his options. There was no menu and Draco knew very well the culinary limits of house-elves. After a few moments silent of thought, he finally went with, "Calamari and scallops in a light burgundy wine. Oh, and twice baked potatoes with extra cheese. Sparkling white grape juice."

It all appeared with that distinctive white flash representative of house-elf magic and Draco hummed a single happy note. It wasn't often he got to eat exactly what he wanted when he wanted. Selecting a fork, he began picking slowly at the food. After a few minutes, a stray thought passed through his mind. You know, it really is interesting how the color of the cheese contrasts with the color of the potato and the color of the skin.

It was then that Draco discovered just how bored he really was. He resolved to fix that. Glancing around, he finally noticed that he really was completely isolated from everyone he knew. There were Slytherins scattered in his general area but they were all firmly entrenched with their dates.

Draco sighed. "Good thinking, Malfoy. Even Alex found a socially acceptable date."

His eyes fell upon a pair of Hufflepuffs engaged in animated conversation. The girl had straight brown hair that fell to a little past her shoulders and her dress was distinctly Muggle style. The boy on her right, Draco's left, was obviously her date and even more obviously not sure how to treat her.

"Aw," Draco whispered in a faintly grandfather-ish tone. "He likes her."

The boy said something, causing the girl to hastily swallow her food. Draco was too far away to hear what was spoken…so he made it up in his head.

"So, uh, the steak is really good."

:cough: "Is it?"

"…Yeah. Really juicy."

"Mhmm. Yeah, my chicken's good too."

And Draco decided that realistic was even more boring that doing nothing.

"Did you know," the boy asked gesturing to his plate, "that I like steak rare because the juices on my plate remind me of blood?"

"Oh?" She leaned forward eagerly, spearing a bite of his meat. "What kind of blood?"

"The blood of my victims."

"Human victims?"

"Of course. Are there any other kinds worth considering?"

She laughed. "No. Though I doubt you've killed more than me."

"Possibly…but do unborn children count?"

The 'Ice Prince' jerked minutely in his chair. "Draco Malfoy, you are a morbid bastard, you know that? …Yeah."

So, as entertainment, and possibly punishment, Draco settled back to watch Alex and Donovan Baddock enjoy the feast.

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A/N:

To "Sod off...etc": Briefly, when I posted that little whine hadn't updated to it's current form so there was no such thing as that stat(which I now have and love BTW). Plus, the counter is a little off, cause evertime anyone pulls up one of my chapters it counts up. So if you sat and read every chapter in a row, then it would add 39 to the total. I actually have over 2000 hits but I can't trusty it 100.

Also, I find it ironic. You envy me my almost 100 reviews, when I'm sitting here envying those mega-read stories with thousands of reviews.

Anyway, thanks to the HBP, work and now college, my updates will be a little longer apart, but me and my sister are always making each other feel guilty for not writing ever spare second so it won't stop completely.

If I don't have another chapter up by Sept 1st go ahead and find a chapter you haven't reviewed and chew the crap out of me for being so lazy.