I apologize to all my readers for not updating, I got a new computer after a few rounds with a nasty trojan, and then I just couldn't bring myself to write again. But, better really late than never; here's chapter thirteen.

The Malfoy heir smirked slightly, scooping up the pale, delicate hand of one Narcissa Black and bringing it to his lips. "Well, I don't know about enjoying myself," he teased. "I've only just arrived. Besides which, we've done this same song-and-dance for nearly sixteen years, and the only thing that ever changes is the menu and the décor. However, I daresay that if you choose to grace me with your presence, I may be able to deem it just bearable." She rolled her eyes, pulling her hand from his grasp.

"Oh, just bearable? Well, if that's how you feel, you're always free to leave," she smiled playfully. "Besides which, more changes than the menu and décor, I resent that comment immensely. The guest list does as well, and the entertainment, and my dress, and-"

Lucius chuckled. "You know I was just joking, stop. If I didn't want to be here, I'd just fake sick and show up to your cotillion in a few days time."

Narcissa looked scandalized. "Had you missed my family's Gala, I might've removed you from my guest list," she sniffed. "It's a very exclusive event, you know. The biggest on the Pureblood social calendar this year." She was visibly puffed with pride and barely contained excitement.

"You act as if I don't have the privilege of being invited to every event on the social calendar," he rolled his eyes. "You know, I don't always make my appointments. What, with being immersed in the world of wizarding politics, I don't always have time for everyone. Of course, you wouldn't understand, you haven't even graduated yet. But still, don't be surprised if I don't make it."

"Listen, Mister Malfoy, I know for a fact that you told all of the Wizengamot that you were dreadfully ill just to skive off and celebrate my sixteenth birthday on the correct date, so it's quite obvious that I'm rather high on your priorities list," she smiled sweetly. "-as I should be."

He frowned, shaking his head. "And how do you know that, my dear Miss Black?"

"A little bird told me."

"Was the bird's name Walden or Pleione, perhaps?" he pried.

"Perhaps," she smirked.

"You, my dear, are far too nosey. I believe that this invasion of privacy can only be remedied with a dance." He held out his hand for her, waiting.

Her pale blue eyes twinkled brighter than the crystal of the chandeliers. "The first dance at the last Winter Gala before my cotillion? You'll set the gossips into talking, you know," she tutted, slipping her tiny hand into his awaiting palm.

"The gossips will talk regardless; they always have when it comes to me," he grinned. The tall blonde led his dainty companion onto the dance floor, his dress shoes clicking along with her high-heels, the train of her sparkling, silver gown trailing gracefully behind her. Lucius signaled the orchestra to strike up a medium pace waltz, and shifted Narcissa into the proper position.

"Well, according to Witch Weekly, you're the most eligible bachelor of the wizarding world," the nymph-like blonde smiled, resting her hand delicately on his shoulder.

Lucius grimaced. "Do you really read that rag? It's unbearable!"

"No, but clearly you do, seeing as you have such strong opinions about it." She twitched her head slightly, flicking a dangling curl from her updo away from her face.

"Too perceptive for your own good," he muttered as he led her in a rather showy step. "You look lovely tonight, by the way; I forgot to tell you. Those dress robes fall well on you."

Indeed, they did. They were made of a beautiful, silk material that draped just so across Narcissa's already abundant womanly curves, showcasing her perfect figure while keeping a proper level of modesty for a young woman of her station. Having just turned of age, the robes also added a little sex appeal, with a low-cut back to show off her lean, delicate shoulders. It completely lacked any ruffles or frills that might distract from the mesmerizing image the youngest Black sister made, and was accented simply with a diamond cuff on her wrist and a beautiful Grecian updo, dotted with white orchids.

Her rosy cupid-bow lips turned up in a secret smile. "Why thank you. A distinguished gentleman had them hand-crafted specifically for me by Signora Peruzzo in Milan. Isn't that lovely?" Lucius smiled and nodded. He had been the distinguished gentleman, and his robes for the night were crafted to compliment her own.

While they whirled and turned around the dance floor, whispers raged like wildfire, the entire congregation focusing on them (of course, while trying to make it look like they weren't concerned, naturally). All of the sudden, another couple joined them on the floor, making the whispers even more excited.

Walden and Pleione swirled close to them, grinning. "Evening, mate," Walden called. "Seemed as if the tension was getting to be a little much, so I thought I'd join you, maybe start a trend or something." Narcissa giggled, and Lucius rolled his eyes.

"Oh yes, you've helped immensely," he said sarcastically. "Now it's four of the most watched pureblooded youths together. Where did your logic come in?"

Pleione laughed, her tumbling red tresses swinging with her midnight blue robes to Walden's movements. "Oh stop, Luc. He doesn't mean harm, you know that. And Cissa, I love your dress robes, they look lovely on you! Wherever did you get them?" she asked playfully, her eyes twinkled knowingly.

"Yes, I imagine whoever designed them had to know quite a bit about your form to get those drapes just so," Bellatrix chimed in suggestively, as she and Rodolphus whirled by, snickering.

"Mind out of the gutter Bella; c'mon at least make an effort!" Walden chuckled. Narcissa pouted, part serious and part playful. Lucius rolled his eyes.

"Do any of you have any comprehension of basic logic? More high profile people makes more gossip; it doesn't divide the existing gossip equally. I'm disgraced to deem you dolts my friends, honestly," Malfoy grumbled, flicking his bangs away from his eyes.

"Oh no, Lucy's going to throw a hissy-fit!" Bellatrix sniggered. "Run for cover before he starts to throw a Malfoy tantrum."

"At least when I throw a tantrum I don't 'avada kedavra' the nearest house elf," he sneered. "That's just childish."

Bella sniffed daintily. "House elves are property, and I'll do what I please with them when I please to. The creatures have it coming to them; they're so disgusting in the first place. I think we should enslave mudbloods instead, at least they aren't always ugly and foul-smelling."

"Just most of the time," Rodolphus chimed in with a barking laugh. The waltz closed, the partners pulled away from each other, bowing and curtseying respectfully. Lucius and Walden each handed their partners off to their men-in-waiting (James Potter and Arnold Wilkes, respectively) before leaving the dance floor, only to be bombarded.

"Lucius Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you! It's been such a long time!" A short, rotund brunette man seized Lucius's hand, his ruddy, red face beaming with the smarmy, hopeful look of someone who hopes to better themselves by elbow-rubbing with the upper class. "I read all about your success in the Prophet of course, but I haven't been able to speak to you since the Saint Mungo's charity benefit dinner in August! I heard about your close on the purchase of Gringotts; fantastic! Biggest corporate merger this year, that is!"

"Thank you, Cornelius," the blonde smiled, his expression cordial, but shielded. "Hopefully things will go as well as they promise to. I'm looking to increase the security on the vaults to make them truly impenetrable and more attractive to foreign interest. The resulting prophet will be as good for my pocketbook as it is for the Ministry's foreign relations. Speaking of which, how's the campaign going? Well, I assume?"

The little man mopped his brow for a moment, still beaming. "As well as can be expected. We can only hope that things go in our favor, you know?"

"Of course, Mr. Fudge. You have our full support, so long as we have yours," Lucius smirked. "You understand my meaning, of course?"

"Crystal clear, Lucius, crystal clear," he said, laughing anxiously. "Well, must be going, have to make my rounds before going back to the campaign grindstone. Have a good evening, gentlemen!" He then hurried off, his legs doing the fast-paced waddle that belongs to a nervous fat man.

Walden snatched two champagne flutes off a passing tray, passing one to his blonde friend. "You're terrible, Mal, you know that? He's not even Minister yet and already you're terrorizing him. Let the man get into office first."

"Why not get a head start? The early bird catches the worm, after all. Cheers, mate." The two toasted, sniggering into the bubbling wine. "Let's go see the hot hor d'oeuvres, I'm feeling peckish."

The pair made their way towards a life-size Abraxan stallion, made entirely of various pastries, steaming with heat and delicious aromas. A house elf handed them each a small plate with a smattering of different pastries on them, bowing before hurrying back to work.

After some thoughtful chewing on a potato croquette, Lucius turned to Walden. "You know, I'm really quite surprised the Potters are even here." He gestured towards James twirling Narcissa in the center of the dance floor. "I mean, even overlooking the fact that they're in favor of allowing mudbloods seats in the House of Commons, or that they took in Narcissa's ex-cousin after he was blasted off the family tree, which are two huge things to overlook; if we're to believe the weekly rags, James has been courting a mudblood for most of the year."

"You can't believe everything they say in the rag, you and I both know that, Luc," Walden shrugged. "Give the man a chance. If he's not serious, then he'll make it apparent. Besides, even the Potters need connections. Blood stays with blood, and I'm sure they're not stupid enough to try and trust-fall into the arms of mudbloods and halfbreeds."

Lucius arched a blonde eyebrow. "In case you weren't aware, Walden, the Potters aren't the brightest in the bunch. They've never made good alliances when they've had the chance; I'd even dare to say that they enjoy putting themselves at risk. They've managed to pick the worst friends and the best enemies."

The brunette shrugged, unwrapping a scallop from its prosciutto casing. "Now, I wouldn't say that. My family's not hostile towards the Potters, and clearly the Blacks aren't either. Does your dad have a bone to pick with them?"

"My father has a bone to pick with everybody."

"Nice try avoiding the question, mate."

"The press has made me very good at that sort of thing," the young Malfoy smirked.

"So this is where you two went off to! Dodging company as always, eh?" Rodolphus cut towards them, the burgundy and black brocade of his dress robes billowing slightly, giving him the appearance of an old world vampire. "Have you heard about the special guest coming to little Cissy's cotillion?" The two shrugged non-committally. Rodolphus leaned in, whispering excitedly. "There's a wizard coming; calls himself Lord Voldemort, fancies himself the best dark wizard of the age. He claims to be a parseltongue, and the last true descendent of Salazar Slytherin. He's looking for allies and funds to start an uprising."

"What kind of uprising?" Walden questioned coolly, shielding his expression.

"He wants to unite the purebloods against the dirty blood below us, and make things as they used to be: when the upper class was the ruling class. The Ministry would be full of purebloods: a pureblooded minister, no House of Commons, no muggle relations department, none of that trash! And if we accomplish that, he's been in talks with the upper circle about a coup d'etat on the muggle world." Lucius snorted into a glass of brandy.

"If he thinks he can do that, he's nothing but a mad man. The muggle world is massive, and while we have magic, they have the advantage of numbers. We don't need any new age witch hunts, Rod. There's not enough of us as it is."

"Mal, you don't understand, he could do it! He's got amazing ability!"

The blonde's stare could've withered a devils snare. "I don't care how amazing he may be, I won't put my life, finances, and public reputation on the line for someone who is clearly out of their head. If you join him, Rodolphus, you're just as stupid and crazy as he is. Keep your head out of the clouds and your hands out of the fire, or you'll find yourself burned."