Hello everyone. This is the only story I seem to have inspiration for anymore haha.
So enjoy, I suppose.
XXX
The Dark Lord returned three days later, on the 29th of December, with anger so fiery it could set London ablaze. The Death Eaters that gathered for the morning meeting sat rigid in their seats, afraid the slightest movement would push their master over the edge. Draco and Ariadne were the only followers who had no idea what transpired in the Department of Ministries. To begin his explanation, Voldemort pointed his wand at the Malfoy's Christmas tree and sent it to oblivion. The burning smell of pine was twisted into an odor that was nothing short of repugnant.
"HOW COULD YOU LET SIX LITTLE BRATS STOP YOU ALL FROM COMPLETING MY TASK?" he roared, shattering windows and knocking over wine glasses. It was then that Ariadne noticed, as broken shards rained on Narcissa, that Lucius was not present.
"My Aunt isn't here either." Draco hissed, as if reading her mind. "Nor Dolohov, Rookwood, Mulciber, or Travers."
Voldemort, in his midst of destroying the drawing room, did not notice their hushed conversation. Ariadne's eyes flicked to Narcissa and saw that she was crying profusely, practically suffocating on the sobs that threatened to escape her. Blubbering would be the worst thing to do at that moment. Voldemort inhaled sharply through the slits that could be called nostrils and seethed:
"I have tried using Occumulency to lure Potter to the Department of Mysteries. You idiots lose duels to mere children…the circumstances that panned out two nights ago are unspeakable and unacceptable. Narcissa, the weak effort of your husband's fight for the prophecies has landed him in Azkaban once more. Furthermore, he will rot in there with your lowlife of a sister, Bellatrix." Nagini slithered from the Dark Lord's robes and coiled herself on the table. The enormous reptile pointed her forked tongue at the blonde witch.
"Sirius Black is dead, which is about the only good thing that came out of this disaster." Voldemort slashed his wand at Goyle, and the fat man dropped out of his seat and to the floor—stone dead. The satisfying thud of his body hitting the floor seemed to soothe Voldemort. He straightened his robes and tucked his wand away for safekeeping. The harsh lines of his reptilian face lessened in intensity. He looked pensive for a moment or two.
"I am leaving for quite a time." The Dark Lord announced suddenly. "I will be back in February. Everyone is to be out of the Malfoy Manor…there are rumors that the Ministry is inclined to search here. That, and to leave Narcissa alone to wallow in her solitude." Their master melted into black smoke and escaped out of a broken window. The ghost of his mocking laugh hung over the room like a cloying mist.
"You heard him! Get out!" Narcissa said through burning tears. "I'm tired of having you disgusting people trod all over my expensive marble and carpet, soiling my guest bedrooms and leaving hair in the bathrooms, eating all of my food and never once thanking me! Now get out of my house before I murder you all!" the delicate coif that Narcissa's hair once was came undone. Sparks flew from her wand as she slashed it at the retreating squatters.
"And STAY OUT!" with a final slam of the front door, she wheeled on the two teenagers.
"Draco, do not ever let me lose my temper like that again!" she shook her finger at him and he stuck his hands up in surrender. Narcissa didn't even address Ariadne.
"Go upstairs. Leave me alone, please." Draco grabbed Ariadne by her slender wrist and pulled her towards the grand staircase. As they ascended the steps, footsteps echoing like cannon blasts in the new silence of the home, Ariadne watched Narcissa sink to her knees and sob.
XXX
"You do realize the Dark Lord is asking us to kill Dumbledore." Ariadne sighed quietly. Draco had shut the door to his bedroom and Ariadne sat on the bed, covers sinking under her weight. The blond boy ran a tired hand through platinum hair and met the girl's gaze.
"If you can even call it asking," Draco replied dryly. "If we don't do it he'll kill us."
"He wants Dumbledore dead by the end of term." A hard lump formed in the blonde girl's throat. Dumbledore knew of her family's dark history but never judged her for it. Never assumed she'd follow the same path…
Yet here she was, sitting in the Malfoy Manor, contemplating the impossible task of murdering the legendary Headmaster. Draco walked toward the window and pulled the drapes aside.
"What'll we do, then? Sit here until Dumbledore croaks?"
"That's not what I'm suggesting at all. Your lack of patience is exhausting." Ariadne clambered out of the bed and walked to the windows, staring out over the snow-covered grounds.
"I don't want to do it. Killing someone so pure and beneficial to the well-being of wizard kind isn't allowable by my standards." Draco mumbled.
"It's hardly allowable by anyone's standards, Draco." Ariadne murmured in reply. Albeit the house was empty save Narcissa, the two continued to discuss Dumbledore's impending doom in hushed voices. A house-elf popped into the room with a tray of tea and biscuits. Draco took a biscuit and bit into the flaky treat, not bothering to wipe the crumbs from his chin.
"You should go talk to my Mum, Ari." Draco said, his mouth full. "You know she wanted you as a daughter anyway." Too tired to object, Ariadne tugged a sweater on over her tank top and stepped out into the hall. The polished wooden floors felt frigid beneath her feet. The air of the manor was stagnant and dead. Chilling. The tapestries of silver and green looked dull and faded to her now, as if their meaning had lost value in Ariadne's slate eyes. These things did not represent her. The two glass coffins in the oceans did. The occupants of those crystal tombs—her parents—did. She was a Nocturne. The last Nocturne.
Slender fingers grazed the painted walls of the hallway as she noiselessly padded downstairs. Narcissa's crying echoed in the empty home, making it quite clear where she was. Ariadne found her in the living room, wedding ring in hand. She was playing with it—examining the diamond and glancing at a picture of herself and Lucius on what seemed to be their wedding day. It was one of the singular moments that Ariadne saw Lucius smiling. Ariadne cleared her throat softly and Narcissa stopped crying audibly. She turned to face the young girl.
"Hello, d-dearest." She sniffed, patting a space beside her on the suede couch. Ariadne sank next to her surrogate parent and put her hand on top of Narcissa's. Ariadne noted how warm her hand was compared to hers. How everyone's hand was warmer—especially Draco's. Maybe she was the cold one after all.
"Your hands are freezing, dear. But they always are, aren't they?" Narcissa dabbed at her eyes with a black-smudged handkerchief. The makeup that was always applied with deliberation now was smeared across her pale cheek.
"Please don't cry, Mum. It'll be okay." Ariadne wasn't sure why she called Narcissa "Mum" but she figured if it served any purpose, it would be to make Naricssa happier. The blonde woman smiled softly and a fresh wave of tears spilled from her icy eyes. Ariadne lifted the framed picture off of the coffee table and touched the glass, right over the image of Lucius' smiling face.
"It was the happiest day of my life, you know. Marrying Lucius." Narcissa copied Ariadne and touched the likeness of Lucius and that rare smile. "We had an arranged marriage—but that was never a problem for Lucius and I. I fell in love with him the moment our eyes met…" she stared off, lost in a faraway memory. "He's not a bad person. He's just easily persuaded, easily manipulated. It's the downfall of our family. We're too eager to please…too eager to serve. It gets us into a world of trouble."
"Being eager to please just means you care for others…it means having a large heart." Ariadne said.
"Large hearts get you nowhere in matters such as these." she gestured to the brand that was forever burned into her left forearm. In Ariadne's forearm, Draco's, Lucius' and many others who have sold their soul to the paragon of evil…
"I know." the weight of those two words hung between the women like dead weight. It was a statement riddled with defeat. They were trapped and they both knew it.
"If we don't abide by the Dark Lord's bidding, he will undoubtedly kill us all. We have no choice, Ariadne. We have never had a choice." she put her arm around Ariadne's shoulder and cried quietly.
"Narcissa. I want you to know that you've done amazing things in your life…and there is always a choice. You chose to have Draco, didn't you? You chose how to raise him. You chose to protect him, and me, and for that I must declare that you're a good person. I've always thought of you as a mother-type figure…you've been more of a mother than my real one ever was."
"Thank you, darling. I've always wanted a daughter, but that never happened. I've done my best raising Draco...he can be rough around the edges at times. He loves you, you know that? He denies it as if it were sin, but it's obvious that he does." Ariadne blushed and was embarrassed that Narcissa was discussing Draco's love so casually. Such expressions were completely uncharacteristic of the platinum blond.
"It's a shame we all have to suffer this way." Ariadne sighed. The near future was grim, seeing as it only contained the deaths of many good witches and wizards, and possibly even her own death. Narcissa stood, wiped her eyes, and said only one thing:
"The deeper that sorrow cuts into your being, the more joy you can contain. Remember that for the future, my dear." Narcissa left the living room at with that solemn note.
XXX
The order from Lord Voldemort that banned the Death Eaters from the manor all but cancelled the New Year's Party the Malfoys had scheduled. Narcissa was in shambles, Draco numb, and the house a bit emptier with the absence of Lucius. Ariadne felt like an intruder in the house. There was an air of stagnancy that befell every nook and cranny. Even the fires in the fireplaces, usually crackling with warmth and light, flickered lamely in their hearths.
On the morning of New Year's Eve, a pure white owl knocked at the window in the kitchen. Narcissa threw open the glass hastily, knocking the mound of snow collected on the sill into the flowerpot on the marble counter. The bird fluttered in surprise—and flew in as Narcissa slammed the window shut. Ariadne nearly choked on the poached eggs before her—the owl belonged to Harry Potter. This was unknown to Narcissa, however, and she unwrapped the parchment attached to Hedwig's leg.
"Oh, it's for you, Ariadne!" Narcissa sounded sad—as if she was expected a letter from Lucius or something of the sort. Ariadne took the small scroll from Narcissa's white hand and stuck it in her robes. She didn't want Narcissa to know Harry Potter was trying to contact her. Ariadne thought herself fortunate that Draco was still asleep.
"You know, I'm just not sure if I want to go to the Greengrass' party tonight. I don't much want to show my face after my rant the other morning."
"It would be fun, wouldn't it?" Ariadne replied automatically, not really listening. The scroll was burning a hole in her pocket.
"It would! You know, I don't give a rat's backside what those dullards think of me. Merlin knows the Malfoys are better than all of them collectively, anyway."
And there it was—the old Malfoy spark that simultaneously annoyed and impressed just about anyone. Ariadne politely excused herself and walked in a controlled manner out of the kitchen. The moment the door shut behind her she sprinted for the library and undid the ribbon tied on the crunchy parchment. It was an invitation from Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley family. They wanted her over for New Years.
"That's a straight laugh. Having a Death Eater over for New Year's Eve." she mumbled to no one. Ariadne put the parchment back into her pocket and curled up on the red velvet couch for a nap. She was roused a short while later by Draco.
"Wake up, Nocturne! I've got some…awkward news." Draco looked uncomfortable. Fearing the worst, Ariadne told him to spit it out.
"The Greengrass family invited all the Death Eaters…except you." he winced at the "except" part, and braced himself for the loud protest which he thought was surely coming.
"How unfortunate. That's quite all right, I've received an invitation for Wyvern's New Year's Party." Draco was afraid at the robotic tone Ariadne's voice had adopted.
"So you're all right with us going to the party, then?" His icy eyes were shielded by what looked like doubt. He wasn't sure if he was walking into a trap or not.
"Of course. I've got plans anyway. And a night where I don't have to look at the Greengrass family is a great night for me." Ariadne reached up and ran her hand through Draco's disheveled hair—making his flyaway locks a tad messier than before.
"Just don't kiss anybody when the clock strikes twelve, will you?" Draco whispered. Ariadne winked a slate eye and crossed her heart.
Whether or not Draco saw the crossed fingers behind the girl's back was another story.
XXX
A House elf escorted Ariadne to the wrought-iron gates of the Manor. The enchantments around the estate made the air around it glow a misty shade of lavender. Narcissa temporarily lifted the protective spells so that she could apparate to "Wyvern's" party. She bid the House-elf goodbye and disappeared into the falling snow.
She reappeared in a wheaten field, starting into miles of darkness.
"How stupid of me." she hissed to the snow-covered stalks. "Of course it's enchanted! Lumos." Her wand illuminated the small area surrounding her.
"Hello? Is anyone there?" she tried quietly, afraid to disturb the silence. Moments later a tall man walked out of the bush. She kept her wand low, a defensive gesture, and waited for him to approach.
"Are you Ariadne Nocturne?" The man's voice was as deep as a well, booming from his chest with authority. When he stepped into her wand light she realized it was Kingsley Shacklebolt.
"I am, sir."
"What was the gift you sent Harry Potter, that he received on the night of December 23rd by owl?" Kingsley asked, raising his wand to her eye level.
"I sent Harry a pair of Seeker's gloves in a letter. They were dragon hide, and I put his initials on the left hand." These must have been the correct words, because Kingsley lowered his wand and offered his arm to her.
"Then let us go, Miss Nocturne. Happy New Year, by the way." The two walked for a short while, making an elaborate path of winding turns with no decipherable pattern. The burrow was well-hidden.
"Why did you invite me here?" Ariadne whispered. "I know you all know what I am." Kingsley approached the door to the burrow and rested a long-fingered hand on the doorknob. He turned to her with soft brown eyes.
"The same reason that we always invite Snape, Miss Nocturne." Once the door was open, Ariadne was immediately swept into an embrace by a stout, red-headed woman she took to be Molly Weasley.
"Ariadne! It's so good to finally meet you! You must pardon my overexcitement, but new Order members are always good news for me!"
New Order member? Oh, so this was Snape's other Christmas present. Well, a double life shouldn't be too hard. Ariadne's slate eyes took in the Burrow with a mix of awe and confusion. The house was difficult to visually follow. Her gaze finally fell on a tattered couch where Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat.
"Ariadne! You actually came!" Harry smiled and walked over to hug the blonde Slytherin. Over his shoulder, Ginny stared coldly at the hugging pair. An enormous orange cat was circling the ginger's ankles.
"So, Harry! Ron, Hermione—happy new year. Everyone, happy new year." Ariadne broke the hug that Harry lingered in and began making her rounds and introductions. After mingling for a while, Molly called everyone into the dining room for dinner. Once everyone was seated and served, Arthur Weasley stood to say grace.
"Fred! Get your wand out of the potatoes!" Molly hissed, slapping her son's wrist with a quick hand. Fred sheepishly grinned at his mother and mouthed, "I'm George." She groaned in frustration and waved her hand at him—dismissing his antics. Arthur finished the speech and everyone dug in heartily. Molly served an entire roast goose with all of the appropriate trimmings. Ariadne was seated between Hermione and Snape, picking gingerly at her enormous helpings of yams. She felt unwelcome in the warm house. She felt grey and out of place. Looking around the table, she noticed that the people around her were happy. Love and joy and laughter and togetherness burst from their smiling faces, and all Ariadne could feel was jealousy. The brand on her arm prickled angrily. Snape noticed her distress and gave her a withering look.
"Must you damper everyone's good mood, Miss Nocturne?" he drawled quietly. Ariadne snapped from her reverie to look at her Professor. He raised a thick, greasy brow and gestured to the other room with a twitch of his jaw. The couple excused themselves and walked into a dimly lit drawing room.
"Ariadne you mustn't sulk. You know Narcissa wouldn't approve of you wasting your good looks on such sullen expressions. Now sit." With a swish of his wand the door swung shut—the remainder of the party oblivious (or just pretending to be) to Snape and Ariadne's seclusion.
"What are we doing in here, Professor?" the dark room prevented Ariadne from seeing anything on the table she and Snape were seated around. Only when he conjured a black disk with his wand did Ariadne realize what they were doing—Snape had produced a pensieve.
"You must know the truth about my past…if we are going to be true allies. I also have memories pertaining to the prophecy made about you and a certain Malfoy…" Snape withdrew the recollections from his left temple slowly with his wand. The silvery wisps of past moments were dumped into the pensieve, which began glowing a shimmery silver.
"Proceed, Miss Nocturne." she tentatively lowered her face to the swirling pool and felt the pensieve drag her into its foggy depths. When she stopped falling, she realized she was by a lake. Two small children, one with red hair, the other with a familiar oily mop, were talking quietly. An adult Snape materialized beside her and told Ariadne the redhead was Lily Potter.
The scene flashed and a slightly older Lily was being reprimanded for using magic in a muggle household. Her sister, Petunia, was shrieking about Lily being a freak. The girl cried freely and ran outside to run into Severus. Ariadne could see they had become friends now. Severus comforted the young witch and soon she was laughing. The delight and love in Snape's eyes were obvious even then.
"She was the only true love I've ever had in my entire life." Snape said to the memory. Another scene changed and the story was no longer about Severus and Lily. Now it centered on a woman Ariadne assumed was Professor Trelawney, minus forty years or so.
"The white-haired children will vanquish the one who wields the Elder wand…if they do not, a shadow will fall across the Wizarding World that will blot out all light as we know it." Her voice was primal—almost guttural—as it gurgled out the prophecy that would change Draco and Ariadne's lives. Trelawney melted away and Ariadne found herself in the drawing room of the Burrow once more.
"You now know why I choose to ally with the light." Snape said.
"If Draco and I don't kill Dumbledore, Voldemort wins?" Ariadne whispered. Snape's black eyes were deep and shielded. There was something hidden there.
"It appears so. But, prophecies are merely predictions. They always are subject to change…" he broke off, pausing to dismiss the pensieve.
"How can I manage a secret like this, Professor? I'm not one for lying, and I—"
"Don't make me laugh, Miss Nocturne. You lie like a rug." A deep blush crept upon her cheeks as she bit her tongue.
"That doesn't mean I'm afraid of lying." she sighed quietly. "If I'm caught—if you're caught—it'll be both of our deaths." Snape shrugged.
"And so is life. But the only thing that consoles me is the fact that I'm contributing to the plight of good wizards and witches everywhere."
"That sounds like a nauseating line from the inside of a greeting card, sir."
"And that's your cue to exit before I curse you." Ariadne watched the corner of Snape's lips twitch into something reminiscent of a smile.
"Remember this, Ariadne. You do not tell anyone. No one. Not Draco, not Taminama. Not anybody." Snape warned. "Or you will die a gruesome death for nothing."
XXX
With that somber note established, Ariadne exited the dark drawing room and returned to the party. Dinner had ended, and the food was cleared into tupperware and other storage containers for about a month's worth of leftovers. The guests had moved into the living room for dessert and drinking. Remus and a pregnant Tonks were seated closest to the fire, a glass of brandy in his hand and sparkling cider in hers. Molly and Arthur were telling the story of how they met, despite the eye rolls of their children. Bill and Fleur burst through the back door with more gifts and a tray of French éclairs. The scene was far too much for Ariadne to comprehend.
Her life, filled with darkness, death, and evil, was harshly contrasted by the life and love of this family. Of the Order of the Phoenix. Bitter tears of envy filled her eyes. She couldn't take it. She felt undeserving of such acceptance. She was destined for horrible things—not the automatic embrace of these people.
"Ariadne, what's wrong, dearie?" Molly broke off from her story about wrestling gnomes to address the crying Slytherin. Once the attention of the room was drawn to her, Ariadne shrunk back in her seat.
"Everything is new to me, is all. Pardon." Ariadne walked up the stairs and realized she had no idea where she was going. Luck smiled on her, however, for the first door she tried she found a bathroom. Her solitude was short-lived as a soft knock came to the door.
"Come out, Ari. We know this is frightening. But you're not alone." The voice of Mad-Eye Moody came through the oaken surface, and Ariadne sniffed loudly. The sleeve she wiped her eyes with was too scratchy.
"To the count of three, Nocturne!" he rasped. "I know you're stronger than this rubbish." Ariadne stood up, composed herself, and flung open the door before Moody could begin counting.
"Good show. Come down and enjoy some damned music for Merlin's sake." His wooden leg clunked loudly as he walked down the stairs to rejoin the party.
XXX
The people who attended the Greengrass party weren't as accommodating. Narcissa and Draco arrived around nine, and had brought an expensive bottle of wine and a plate of cheese. Patricia Greengrass, mother to Daphne and Astoria, greeted the Malfoys coldly.
"Oh, Narcissa. You received our invitation after all. Charmed." Both the women in the Malfoy and Greengrass families had their husbands in Azkaban. The tension between them was palpable. Draco shifted uncomfortably away from the two older women and went to sit with Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle. The three boys were sitting down to appetizers and had saved Draco a seat.
He hadn't taken the first bite of bad caviar when he was pounced on by a certain pug-like girl. Her foul-smelling hair pooled over Draco's eyes and the scent was enough to make him choke.
"P-Parkinson!" he gasped. "Get off of me at once!" Pansy slid into the seat next to the blond and rested her hand on his knee.
"Oh, Drakie! Where's your little Death Eater whore? Crying over mummy and dada?" Pansy asked, a smirk splaying across her puffy lips. Draco kept his composure and resisted the urge to strangle Pansy until her face was blue.
"Shut it, Parkinson, we all know that once my interests turned elsewhere you went into a spiraling depression. It's too bad you'll never have me, Parkinson. So keep shoving those sweets down your throat if it makes you feel better, because the only thing I know—and that everyone else knows—is that you're a pathetic little tramp who is obsessed with me." Parkinson's mouth opened with a pop as she stared at Draco dumbly. The magnitude of his insult hadn't quite sunk in just yet.
"Did you hear him, Pansy? Leave." A female voice snarled. Draco turned to find the owner of the voice and discovered it was Astoria who had spoken. Her dark hair was styled in a sleek coif, and she wore a glittery black dress. The fifth year looked attractive to Draco, and he found himself pulling the chair Pansy (until recently) was occupying out for Astoria. She sat down and joined the conversation.
Draco and Astoria found common ground on the fact that both of their fathers were recently captured in the Battle of the Department of Mysteries.
"My dad wrote Daphne and me a letter," Astoria began, taking a moment to straighten Draco's tie. The touch was unexpected and it caught the boy off-guard. She smirked and continued. "From his prison cell he wrote how that Mudblood Hermione Granger had stunned him, and nearly jinxed his hand off. Luckily it wasn't his wand hand."
"That filthy Granger cursed your father?" Draco growled. Astoria nodded firmly and her face twisted into a grimace.
"He also went on to say that Harry had practically beaten your father in a duel. It was embarrassing for the both of them, to say the least."
"Potter! How dare he lay a hand on my father! Well, I'll show them…" the rage crept into Draco and turned him dark. "I'll kill them all, just you see, Astoria. I've been given a job and I plan on carrying it out." Draco gestured to the dark mark beneath his sleeve and Astoria's brown eyes widened in admiration.
"So you've been, you've, you're…" she couldn't find the words because she could hardly believe them.
"I'm in." was all Draco whispered. Across the table, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle glared at Draco. They harbored a jealously that was fiery, mostly in part to the fact that Draco had been chosen to be a Death Eater over them. Blaise rolled his eyes when Astoria touched his forearm.
"Don't do that!" Draco yelled, withdrawing his arm as if she had burned him. Astoria threw up her hands in a gesture of innocence.
"I'm sorry, I hadn't realized—"
"Yeah, well, if anyone touches it they'll call him." Draco warned, keeping his arm at a safe distance.
"I'll keep that in mind for the next time I touch you, Draco." Astoria rose to greet her fifth year friends and left Draco with a sly wink. Her fingers grazed his back as she walked away.
"Bloody hell, Draco. You've got the whole Slytherin house falling at your feet now that you've got that pretty tattoo." Blaise said snidely. His features were sharp and exaggerated—and when they were bunched in anger they looked even more so.
"And so what? It's a privilege awarded to the most deserving dark wizards and witches." Draco's nose turned slightly upward in a gesture of superiority.
"Yeah? Well look where your father is, Malfoy. Locked up in a filthy cell with no one to handle his dirty work anymore." Goyle snapped.
"And where is your father, Goyle? Oh, that's right, the Dark Lord killed him. In front of an entire congregation of Death Eaters. Talk about humiliating." He popped a bacon-wrapped mushroom in his mouth as he casually castigated his old crony.
"Well guess what, Draco. No one cares that you've been initiated as a Death Eater. No one gives a rat's ass whether or not you have important assignments or any damned privileges of the sort. You know why? Because you're a pompous prat and you've always been!" Goyle roared. The party went quiet for a moment to witness the exchange.
"You've been my underling for years, Goyle! Because of your relationship with the Malfoy family, I've kept your daft ass from getting killed by the Dark Lord! So you're welcome, you ruddy pig!" Draco retorted, standing up to glare down at Goyle. Crabbe, in Goyle's defense, told Draco to go shove it somewhere.
"You shut your fat mouth, Crabbe, or I'll have you executed along with your fat parents." The last part was hissed in a whisper for Crabbe's ears only. The boy's face flashed an angry red.
"Who cares what you think? I don't take your orders no more, Draco. You an' your dad and your beat mum are finished." Crabbe pointed his wand at Draco, ready to fight.
"Is that what you want?" Draco laughed. "A duel? Let's do it, then! Right here, right now!" Draco grabbed Crabbe by his collar, which, mind you, was far too tight, and dragged him out to the deserted dance floor. By now, the guests had sat down to dinner and were confused as to why Draco and Crabbe were acting this way. It slowly dawned upon them that they were about to duel. Narcissa, sensing the onset of public mortification, rose from her seat.
"Draco Lucius Malfoy, so help me I won't speak to you for a week if you duel that boy! We Malfoys do not lower ourselves to such incivility!" her eyes were narrowed into slits and her face was terrifying. It was a superpower all mums acquired through time, one would suppose. But Draco was undaunted.
"If anyone insults the Malfoy name, I have to defend it! No matter if it's a daft fool like Crabbe or a sickening Mudblood, Mum!" Narcissa, a proud woman, allowed her son to protect the family's reputation (and possibly salvage it). She was tired of being the laughing stock of the pureblooded families. She tired of hearing everyone make fun of her for her husband's flaws.
With that settled, Draco wheeled on Crabbe.
"Stupefy!" Crabbe, caught unaware, was blasted across the wooden floor. He landed on his tailbone and the sound was deafening. He scrambled to his feet and summoned a wave of water.
"Take this, prat!" Crabbe shouted. Draco was buried beneath a torrent of frigid water. The pressure of it was so immense he felt his ribs bending the wrong way.
"Protego!" Draco managed to create a shield until the water was gone. Inhaling was now a chore—that wall probably cracked a few of his ribs. Draco switched from verbal to nonverbal spells, commanding a quiver of cobras to attack his assailant. Crabbe set most of them aflame but suffered a nasty bite in his fleshy ankle.
"Had enough, fatty? That venom will reach your heart in a few minutes I reckon. Better give up and fix yourself before you die." Draco crossed his arms smugly.
"That's it." Crabbe pointed his wand at the wound and carefully drew out the poison. While this was happening, the entire party wondered how Crabbe had gone from fat halfwit to a practiced dueler. As if hearing the thoughts of the crowd, Crabbe's father beamed.
"He's ben getting' lessons from Amycus an' Alecto Carrow. They're doin' wonders withim." Crabbe successfully siphoned the venom from his system and slashed his wand at Draco.
"Crucio!" While Ariadne's Cruciatus curse was a blinding pain—her curse was not laced with malice. As Voldemort always says, "you have to mean it." Crabbe definitely meant it. Draco was instantly brought to his knees and vomit spewed everywhere. The intensity of the blow was so incapacitating that blood vessels burst throughout his body and eyes. He lay still for a few moments once Crabbe raised his wand.
"D-draco?" Astoria gasped. She rushed to help him but was stopped by Patricia Greengrass.
"Now Astoria…" she scolded, voice insincere. "We mustn't interfere with a duel." Astoria rolled her amber eyes and scowled out the window. She hated being told what to do.
Draco, miraculously, rolled over onto his stomach and pointed his wand toward the pool of vomit.
"Scorgify!" the vomit was gone and Draco was back in the game. He wobbled on his feet but they stayed rooted to their places.
"I'll kill you, Crabbe." Draco hissed under his breath. "Merlin knows I will. REDUCTO!" a jet of red light streamed from Draco's wand and hit Crabbe square in the chest. The breath was knocked from the overweight boy violently and he slumped to the floor, unconscious.
"There! Now can everyone stop harassing my family and go back to your own fake materialistic lives? Merlin's effing beard, I'm so sick of you people! Mop up this disgusting mess and leave my poor mother alone!" he screamed at the finely-dressed aristocrats in attendance. Their mouths dropped open—and others their mouths closed shut. They knew how serious Draco was in that moment. He returned to an empty seat beside his mother, who was beaming with pride. It took the party around ten or twenty minutes to relapse back into a jovial mood, and after Crabbe had been dragged to a guest bedroom, dinner was served and the night continued.
XXX
"Ariadne, we've a surprise for you!" Molly announced excitedly. Puzzled, Ariadne looked up from her game of Wizards' Chess with Ginny.
"A little potion's birdie told us that you miss a certain someone from Durmstrang…" After Snape choked on his coffee, Molly ran over to the back door and flung it open. There, standing in the snow, in all his half-blindness, was Hiro Taminama. He held a platter of cookies his mother must have baked.
"Happy New Years, everyone!" he smiled his crooked grin and handed Molly the plate. "Thank you for having me."
"Three Slytherins in my household! Who would've guessed!" Molly laughed. Snape rolled his eyes and begrudgingly accepted one of the frosted treats from the silver tray. Hiro, oblivious to anyone else, ran straight for Ariadne. He swept her up into a rib-crushing hug.
"I've missed you." he murmured into her hair. Ariadne finally felt comfortable and at home. That sweet scent mixed with sharp mint always calmed her down. Hiro finally released the blond and took a seat beside Mad-Eye.
"Well, it's only ten! We need to get this party started!" George exclaimed, jogging from his seat to fetch the enchanted phonograph from the kitchen. Arthur had fused the old thing with a muggle radio, and if you were specific about what you wanted it would play just about anything. Everyone stood and Hermione swished her wand—moving the furniture to the corners of the room. She had created a makeshift dance floor, where the adults (and teens) paired off for a series of waltzes. Being the Weasley family, however, taking such dances seriously was an impossible task. Watching Snape dip Tonks to the floor sent the twins into a raging fit of laughter, and in their breathlessness they knocked over a ceramic bowl.
"Hey!" Ginny exclaimed. "I made that in daycare, you clots!"
"Oh Ginny, don't be so uptight. All can be fixed." Lupin repaired the bowl and it zoomed back onto its place on the mantelpiece. Dancing, laughing, and drinking commenced in the Burrow, and within half an hour the majority of the party (except Tonks) was drunk. Even Snape swayed back and forth in his seat.
Mad-Eye, noticing this, clapped the Potions Master on the back as hard as he could.
"Snape, m'boy! Feelin' woozy?" Mad-Eye laughed heartily and sloshed back another tankard of ale.
The phonograph, tired of playing fast music, slowed down into mellower melodies. The group sat down and exchanged stories once more. Mad-Eye talked about the first time he fell in love. The women, all captivated, listened attentively. The men merely sat in their inebriated states.
"How romantic! I especially love the part where you took her on the cliffs to propose. Whatever happened to her?" Hermione asked, unfulfilled by the story's loose ends. Mad-Eye gave the bright witch a long stare before answering.
"Well, she agreed, after many attempts for me to persuade her. Then, after a few years of happy marriage, she passed without warning." Molly put her hand on Moody's knee in a touch of comfort. His scarred mouth twisted into a smile before he continued.
"After that, I could never find love again."
"And why not? Time heals all wounds, doesn't it?" Ron asked.
"Well, you see, love is like a booger, Ronald. You keep picking at it and picking at it, and once you've got it you have no idea what to do with it. So I always blew my nose and was done with it."
The silence that hung after that analogy was broken by a simultaneous round of giggles. Moody eventually jumped in with his raspy chuckle. Tonks swept in from the kitchen with the deserts floating behind her. Everyone dug in to the floury treats, cream-filled tarts and cookies alike. Hermione bit into a cream puff and the filling gave her a white mustache. Unaware of the food on her face, she carried conversation normally.
Ron, who was sitting across from her, couldn't control his laughter a moment longer.
"What, Ronald? Are my opinions on S.P.E.W. laughable now more than ever? I swear, you've grown thicker than troll dung." she huffed, crossing her arms angrily. A few who didn't catch the exchange asked Hermione if she was angry or not.
"Of course she's angry!" Ron held up his fork and peered at her from between the prongs. "She's in jail!" Hermione grew red and threw the other cream puff on her plate at the ginger. It exploded on his cheek and sent frosting onto Snape's shoulder.
"No more food throwing! Hermione, dearie, you've got a cream puff mustache. Ronald, she is not in jail. And George, so help me if you put bugs into Ginny's pudding one more time I'll tear your ear off!" Molly's shrill interjections were heeded, and Ginny spat out her pudding with a disgusted look on her face. Little did Molly know, however, that George's ear would be removed soon enough.
XXX
After the dinner plates had been cleared, the guests of the Greengrass party moved onto the dance floor. Underpaid musicians played slow, beautiful waltzes that mirrored the movements of the dancing people. Astoria dragged Draco onto the floor and they began to move fluidly.
"Draco, I didn't expect you'd be any good at dancing!" Astoria joked. Her coif was falling out slightly, partly due to the amount of alcohol in her system. When intoxicated, she had a fondness for shaking her head with forceful exaggeration.
"Haven't you ever watched Ariadne and I dance? We're awfully good."
"Oh, that's just Ariadne leading you around. We both know you've got no skill." She raised a thin brow and Draco's face hardened.
"No skill? Then stop leading and just go along for the ride." Draco quickened the pace, concurrent with the music, and Astoria was soon struggling to keep up with Draco's movements.
"Had enough?" he asked her. Astoria giggled and surrendered, lapsing back into the slow waltz with which they began. Eventually the music slowed and the lights in the ballroom dimmed.
"You smell amazing, Draco." Astoria inhaled Draco's spicy scent and leaned her head on his chest. In the back of Draco's foggy mind, he imagined what Ariadne would think of this. She probably wouldn't like it.
"Thank you, Astoria. You smell good, too." Her scent was an overpowering floral tone, but Draco didn't want to be rude. When the brunette looked at the clock, she gasped quietly.
"There's only a minute left until midnight!" she said excitedly. As if on cue, the band stopped playing and Patricia Greengrass began the countdown. The rest of the party joined in.
"TWENTY…NINTEEN…EIGHTEEN…"
"Draco, are you going to be my midnight kiss?" Astoria asked sultrily. Draco turned red and began stammering. "I…I..I"
"FOURTEEN….THIRTEEN….TWELVE…"
"Oh, forget about Ariadne! Her parents are dead and she isn't half the witch I'm going to be!" Astoria's face was a mix of jealousy and impatience. Draco tried to avoid her gaze.
"EIGHT….SEVEN…..SIX…."
"As beautiful as you are, Astoria, I cannot kiss you. You see, I—" the rest of his sentence couldn't be heard over the roar of the countdown.
"THREE…TWO…ONE….HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Couples old and young, familiar and new, locked into embraces and kisses. Astoria grabbed Draco's angular jaw and smashed her lips against his. In the midst of his shock, he forgot his anger and melted into the kiss. Soon Astoria latched her fingers into Draco's hair and he lifted her off the ground.
Once the two finally broke, Draco looked over Astoria's shoulder to find Caroline Walker and Wyvern Silvers staring right at him. Their arms were crossed and their mouths twisted into knowing smirks.
He was in deep shit.
XXX