Title: Dance with the Devil
Author Name: Shy Unicorn
Rating:M
Genre: Romance/Friendship
Main Character(s): Astoria Greengrass and Draco Malfoy
Ship(s): Astoria/Draco, Lucius/Narcissa, Narcissa/OC, Lucius/OC
Summary: Four years after Voldemort is vanquished Astoria Greengrass starts working for 'Witch Weekly' magazine as a feature writer. Her very first job is to interview Draco Malfoy who has just made his first million galleons without the aid of his rich parents. What happens when they meet?
Author's Note (A/N):Here's the first of many M rated parts of this story. Hugs not drugs people, hugs not drugs.
Dance with the Devil
Chapter Three: Sneezewort Epiphany
Bernice wasn't kidding when she said she was going to keep me busy. Besides the Malfoy piece she handed me another interview, two features, a huge list of articles to plan and prep for the rest of the Quarter (research, make notes on, set up meetings for). Not to mention articles she's clipped for me to read, review and take style tips from. Every newspaper and magazine has its own 'in-house style' which is their own way of doing things from referencing to buzz words and if I want to get published I have to learn the lingo.
I'm so relieved when Friday night comes around. I feel like it's the first time I've had more than a moment to myself since starting at the magazine on Monday morning. I turned my Malfoy interview in earlier that afternoon when Bernice was happy with it. To celebrate my first week and to have fun Xenia, Pace and I decide to head out to a rave we know is happening out on the McLaggen property.
As I walk up the worn dirt path to a barn in the fading light I think of the article waiting to go to the printer's, ready for publication on Sunday morning. Excitement is fizzing inside of me like a soda pop. I would feel completely jubilant if it weren't for the scorching memory of Draco Malfoy lurking in the recesses of my brain. I hope he'll be happy with it.
The air is cool and smells fresh and sweet. There's no civilization for miles around, just green fields, lollipop trees and a big watermelon slice of sky. Even from a good way off I can hear the infectious beat of a dance song emanating from the barn at the top of the hill. I really want to kick back and dance.
Xenia has her arms around me and Pace; the two of them are arguing about whether to snort the sneezewort we've brought with us now or save it for later on.
"Xen, you drank a bottle of wine while we were getting ready. Let's save it until that buzz has won off," Pace says reasonably.
"Yeah, but if we do it later than we'll have to share it with whoever's around," Xenia wheedles. "You know how much of a raccoon Vaisey can be."
"I don't see why we all have to do it at the same time," I say, trying to be the diplomatic one amongst us.
This gets shot down by a frown and a shake of Xenia's head.
"It isn't the same when you do it alone. Taking stuff on your own is like drinking on your own, it's deeply tragic and weird. C'mon, Pace, please let's do it now."
"You are such a junkie," Pace capitulates and Xenia kisses his cheek.
"It'll get the night off to a perfect start," she says, still in full-on persuasive mode. "It'll take the edge off everything. We'll dance, we'll drink, we'll have a good time. It'll be the perfect end to the summer."
Birds chirp and a breeze ruffles the trees as we stop and crowd around Pace, who takes out a small pouch of grayish-green powder. We all take a pinch.
"To life," I say.
"To love," says Xenia.
"To the jam," says Pace.
This is how we've started all of our nights this summer, toasting with either a drink or a pinch of sneezewort. So far it's been the best summer of my life. I've had more fun than I thought it was possible to have in an entire lifetime. Tonight is the last time we'll be doing anything like this in a while because we're all deeply committed to knuckling down and making it big in our careers.
I sneeze hard a couple of times, my eyes streaming and my nose running. I do what Xenia calls 'Snow White Sneezes' these little, squeaky delicate sounds. Xenia booms like she's firing a canon and Pace does a couple in quick succession and manages to sound melodic. We all laugh at the absurd faces we pull and stumble up the hill feeling like the night is our oyster and something incredible is about to happen.
There are lots of people in the barn already milling around, meeting up with their friends and drinking beers. There's hay on the floor and everywhere smells like cow manure. A wizard with electric blue hair is on a podium, bent over like a master potioneer stirring several vinyl records at one time. The sound is…unique. Overhead there are a handful of orbs, like little moons casting light over everything.
I can get socially anxious, especially in big crowds but the sneezewort helps take the edge off. I look around and check out who's there and do this annoying thing where I start comparing myself to everyone to see if I'm as cool as them – I'm not.
The underground trend right now is for wizards to wear blue jeans and an Asian influenced kimono, in-keeping with the fetish for anything Muggle. Pace has this look down to an art. He's spiked his fohawk up and I can see girls turning to check him out as we pass. Xenia and I are both wearing denim shorts, which are considered very scandalous by my parents because, you know, you can see my legs. The Wizarding world is progressive in lots of areas but showing some flesh really isn't one of them. I feel very self conscious in my tiny shorts (as well as cold) but I try to ignore that because they make me look cool and edgy.
Very soon we run into Xenia's boyfriend, Marcus Belby and his friends. Xenia launches herself at him and gives him a full-body hug and they start making out enthusiastically. It is beyond disgusting.
"Get a room!" Anthony Goldstein calls to them and there's a titter of agreeing laughter from the rest of us who congregate together. Marcus gives Tony a rude hand-gesture and keeps sucking face with Xenia.
Marcus and Tony are there with their friends Su, Vaisey and Zach Smith. There's a moment where I high-five Tony and hug Su in welcome. As I step away Zach gives me a cool head-nod of acknowledgement. The two of us have had this skinny love thing going on all summer. We'll dance and we'll kiss but we can't find more than three words to say to each other. That is the entire history of my love life.
"Want a drink?" Zach asks me above the music, which is creeping louder.
"Sure."
Together we push through the crowd. At the back of the barn is a pile of beer crates, a table with several bottles of Firewhisky on it, beneath that a cooler of butterbeer. There's a box of kazoos and glow-in-the-dark wrist bands for some gloriously bizarre reason. I take a couple of neon green wristbands as Zach collects a bottle of beer for him and a butterbeer for me. I don't like getting drunk at raves so I always stick to the soft stuff.
"So…how's it going?" he asks me.
"Good," I reply, uncapping my drink. "You?"
"Yeah, it's good."
We sip our drinks in easy silence. Zach reaches out and twines his fingers through my free hand. I notice it doesn't feel as good as when Draco Malfoy touched me.
I can feel the sneezewort working its magic anesthetic through my nerves. I'm starting to feel relaxed and floppy like a noodle.
A new DJ has started his set and I feel the music pushing against me like the surging crowd of people.
"Want to dance?"
Zach gives me a lop-sided smile that used to make my tummy roll over. Tonight I think he looks scruffy and immature. His shyness that I used to find so endearing is getting on my nerves. As I shove my way into the middle of the dance floor I wish he'd just take control of the situation. It's clear to everyone and to us that we've liked each other all summer. What's he waiting for?
I don't have much more time to be cranky because I get that tickly sensation in the back of my nose like I'm about to sneeze. For a moment I think I'm really going to but it passes and I am now experiencing full-blown sneezewort euphoria.
The music is this big ocean of noise all around me and I'm a boat bobbing on the waves. I find myself laughing. Everything around me looks the same – we're definitely still in a beat-up cow shed but I feel like I'm a boat being rocked by music waves and that's what matters most. I begin to dance and the sensation of moving in time to the beat is like floating away on a tide of bliss. I see palm trees and exotic islands in my mind's eye.
I can feel Zach close by as we dance but half of the time my eyes are shut as I let the tide of music rock me. I wonder fleetingly what Draco Malfoy is doing right at this second. Is micro-financing taking up his Friday night? I imagine him planting money trees under the light of the full moon and I find that I'm laughing out loud again. I am properly crushing on him, I admit to myself, which is weird because I didn't learn all that much about him personally during our time together.
A song that's been our anthem all summer comes on and that pops my daydream like a soap bubble. Xenia is diving through the crowd, her curly hair is crazy in the humidity. We hug tightly screaming in unison, "I love this song!"
We hop on the spot as Pace materializes with the others. He throws his arm over my shoulder, pulling me into a tight friendship circle. Marcus, sweaty and scrawny, wedges up against me on my left side. We all jump up and down and shout along for the duration of the song. Xenia's laughing face sticks in my mind and I feel like the universe is hugging me.
After that song the world flips into fast-forward for me. We dance and dance and dance.
I get sweaty, my hair sticks to my face and the back of my neck but I don't care. I am a boat after all. Boats are supposed to be wet if they're doing things right.
The stink of hay and sweat and beer rises with the temperature. I can see the humidity in the air along with neon streaks of pink, violet and green from those silly neon wristbands that everyone seems to be wearing. I get buffeted and tossed by people dancing next to me. When I get hit in the back by a guy's elbow it doesn't hurt me exactly, the pain feels blunted and I find myself laughing and telling him it's fine as he apologizes profusely.
The world spins faster and faster as the night progresses until I'm very dizzy. I stop dancing and stand still and feel the world swaying like a spinning top beneath my feet. I throw my hands out to keep my balance and I look like I'm surfing on dry land. The wall of noise pushes down on me and I feel the urge to lie down. I tug Xenia away from dancing and making out with Marcus.
The two of us stumble out into the cold night air. It's completely dark outside. So dark in fact we can see stars up above like glitter on black paper. I think fondly of my older sister Daphne, who studies stars so closely for a living, as Xenia and I flump down onto the dry grass.
Xenia trips over her own feet and falls flat on her face. We both howl with laughter. I roll onto my back and throw my arms and legs out like a starfish. We're both breathless and smiling like dopes.
"Having a good time?" she asks me, raising her head. There's dried grass suspended in her frizzy brown hair.
"Uh-huh. I just need some air for a minute."
"Yeah, me too," Xenia pants.
I un-tuck my blouse and give it a wave trying to create a breeze that will cool me down. Xenia is half passed out, face down in the grass beside me.
The cool and quiet of the night is lovely. I lie back and admire the velveteen blue of the sky overhead. The trees whisper and rush in the dark. I feel like the universe has me cradled in the palm of her hand as I look up at the constellations. I can see the heavens doming out like a snow-globe.
For a very long time Xenia and I don't speak.
"Hey! Your magazine will be going to print right this second!" Xenia exclaims. "Isn't that cool? You're going to be a real published writer. You're a fancy big shot now."
I laugh. The world has stopped spinning and I feel replete.
"It's so crazy to me that it's actually happening," I admit. "I've dreamed about being published for so long."
"You never did tell me how your interview went. Was the young master Malfoy as kooky as we thought?" There's a mocking little smirk on her grass speckled face.
"I don't know…" I say awkwardly. "He was kind of…cold."
We both laugh because 'cold' sounds like a strange way to describe a person. It isn't an adjective we'd use to describe anyone we know.
"Cold would be good right now," Xenia mutters. "I really want an iced-lolly… or a bath of ice-cubes – or ice-cream! God, I would kill from some chocolate ice-cream right now."
I don't reply.
Right over head I've found the tail of the constellation Draco. I squint and join the dots with my finger. They form a jagged ring around the north pole, slithering like a starry snake through the night. As I'm lying there looking up at a bunch of stars millions of light years away I think of Draco Malfoy and he feels so close, it's like he's in my chest. I rub the place where my heart is. It's only when I catch Xenia's eye I realize I'm grinning from ear to ear.
"You liiiiiiike him!" Xenia teases me in a sing-song voice, her smile growing as broad as mine.
"No I don't!"
I strike out and hit her playfully on the shoulder. She feigns pain and rolls away from me laughing. It's blatantly a lie because my cheeks are burning and I'm giggling like I'm 12 again.
"Oh my God, you do like him!" Xenia pushes up from the ground. "That's so cool! You know, Astoria, Pace and I were starting to wonder if you 'beat for the Harpies.'"
"Xen!" I gasp. "I'm not gay. I'd have told you by now if I was. I hate that phrase. The Holyhead Harpies are cool and hardly any of them are actually lesbians! I'm just picky about boys, besides I don't fancy Malfoy. I don't even know him. The whole interview was weird."
"Weird how?" Xenia asks me seriously, but then adds. "Did you have sexy feelings for Draco Malfoy? Is that why it was weird? Did you want to jump his bones?"
"You're such a perv," I laugh, shaking my head in an imitation of disdain. "It was just weird. I mean, we were eating chips in the grandest hotel in the world – who does that? And I'd never interviewed anyone before - and he was totally gorgeous and intimidating, by the way - while I was a nervous wreck making him answer all these personal questions about his money! It was bizarre."
"God, Astoria, you're such a gold-digger," Xenia teases me.
I give her a sideways look and raise one of my eyebrows at her. We both know I'm really not. She tears up a handful of grass and throws it at me. I crinkle my nose and bat it away.
Xenia turns her big, dark eyes on me.
"How did it end? I mean, did he seem interested in you at all?" she asks me seriously.
I can't believe we're having this conversation. The fact that it's on a patch of grass outside a rave just makes it that little bit more surreal.
"I don't know," I tell her honestly.
There's a sinking feeling in my stomach like a punctured balloon, all the hilarity has seeped out of the conversation. It seems premature and dumb. I don't think he especially liked me but I do think in some strange way he was happy to have someone to talk to.
"I kind of shut him down at the end," I admit.
"ASTORIA!"
"I didn't know what to say!" I protest. "I was there because of my job - I do have to work you know. I couldn't sit there all day with him talking about the weather, could I? It wasn't a date. Besides, I'm sure he had some other important place to be."
"Are you going to get a chance to see him again?"
I give her a reproachful look.
"Even if I do see him again he's mister money-bags-foaming-at-the-mouth-pureblood-aristocracy. I doubt he'd be interested in me."
"But you're, like, such a babe," Xenia says at once. I roll my eyes. "Seriously, I don't get why you're so hard on yourself."
I sigh heavily and lie back down.
"You try having Daphne as your brilliant older sister, then you'd see. She's smart and pretty and cool. Not to mention she does everything first, so when I do it it's no big deal."
"What about your writing?"
"My parents support me, but I know they wish I'd do something more academic," I look over at my best friend sadly. "Writing's all I've ever wanted to do but they think I'm wasting my talent working for Witch Weekly. Mum thinks the whole magazine's a joke and I just know that Dad wishes I'd gone into Charms like him."
"Astoria, that's just not true," Xenia says quietly, wiggling over to me like a caterpillar and hugging me.
She smells like lavender and beer. The combination is oddly soothing, coupled with her tight embrace. I notice the sneezewort has worn off now.
"We'll show them. You'll become a famous writer and I'll become a world-renowned diplomat and International law writer. We'll buy all our clothes from Twilfitt & Tatting's and wherever we go people will say 'Oh, look, there go Xenia Papadopoulou and Astoria Greengrass, aren't they fucking awesome?'"
I laugh in spite of myself.
"You're right," I say, resting my head on Xenia's. "We are fucking cool."
"That's the spirit!" Xenia says clambering to her feet. She gives me a hand to help me up.
We're wiping the dried grass off our clothes when Pace meanders out of the barn, smiling but disheveled.
"Having a heart to heart beneath the stars, are we, ladies?" he says, coming to stand with us.
"Just having a lie down," I tell him, slipping my arm around his waist. He's hot and clammy. "Been having fun?"
"Yeah, the party's almost broken up now. McLaggen is swaggering around telling anyone who'll listen that he's the 'Minister of Mayhem'."
"I guess that's what happens when you combine hardcore drugs and home brew," Xenia remarks. "I should probably go and find Marcus. I said I'd go back to his place tonight, so you don't have to wait around for me if you want to leave soon."
"Thanks for tonight," I say quietly, quickly catching her hand and giving it an affectionate squeeze as she goes.
"No problems," Xenia smiles equally fondly before skipping off.
"Do you want to go back and dance?" I ask Pace.
"I'm not bothered. We can if you want," he shrugs and takes a deep drink from the bottle of butterbeer he's holding.
"Nah, I'm not bothered either if the night's winding down."
"Can you Apparate okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine now. Why?"
I can see by the sly way he's looking at me that he's got a plan.
"Well, I was just thinking, it's 3am on a Saturday morning… and where do we usually end up at that time and place?"
We both grin as our minds make the same leap.
"Do you fancy a foray into the muggle world, per chance?" I ask in my most mysterious tones, which makes me sound a little like Headmaster Dumbledore.
"Why yes, I think I do," Pace imitates.
Together we race down the hill, leaping and whooping, to the spot where we can decently Disapparate.
Our destination is a little steamy muggle café off Brick Lane in London.
At 3am on a Saturday it's packed with muggle men in work overalls and muggle kids about our age. We all sit in the plastic booths and stare at each other's weird clothing, while we all enjoy eating the best bagels in the whole of England.
It's the perfect end to the night.
When I finally fall into bed the sheets are crisp and cool. My ears are ringing so hard it sounds like the silence is white noise. I think of my article that's being printed somewhere in the world and of Draco Malfoy, who is probably sound asleep. I pack my duvet around me and nestle down into my pillow.
I recall that one accidental touch and the infinite look that followed. I conjure up the rigid lines of his face, his cunning silver eyes which contrast with his lovely soft lips and hands. I wonder why he's so intensely private and if it's true that You Know Who lived in his house and what that must have been like for him and his family. I wonder about Narcissa Malfoy's sad eyes and Lucius Malfoy's ostentatiousness and how that's shaped the young man I had lunch with.