I do not own the Harry Potter series or Pokémon.
Chapter Twenty Three: Christmas Gala, Part One
Dress robes weren't that much different from high-end formalwear, as Moon found out when Narcissa Malfoy presented what she'd be wearing for the Christmas Gala.
"I assumed that you wouldn't have anything suitable to wear, so I took it upon myself to find something," the blonde woman said. "I hope it is to your liking."
Moon couldn't find anything to say in response. The dress was gorgeous. It wasn't too dramatic or too simple. The flowy blue and white fabric criss-crossed at the top, separating into straps, and was bound at the waist. The fabric streamed down to the floor, with only the slightest hints of a skirt, and with minimal beading.
She loved it.
"Thank Merlin it fits," Narcissa said after Moon changed into the dress. "It's an older dress, but I thought it would be about your size. It… belonged to one of my sisters."
There was a note of disdain in the older woman's voice. Moon knew from her research into the old pure-blood families that one of Narcissa's older sisters had married a Muggle-born, while the other had gone to prison. She wasn't sure whose dress she was wearing.
Narcissa sighed, and then smiled. "Well, we still have some work to do. I'd like to get started on your hair right away, and then your makeup and jewellery."
Sitting at the vanity in her room with Narcissa was surreal in a way. Her mother hadn't done her hair since she was a little girl. When Moon learned how to hold a brush, tie a ponytail, and form a braid, her mother stopped doing her hair. There hadn't been formal occasions to attend when she was young, and Moon had taught herself to do fancier hairstyles as she grew older, so there was no need to have someone do it for her.
It was a nice change, she had to admit.
Narcissa used an array of hair-care potions to make Moon's hair soft and silky. It reached halfway down her shoulder blades after going untrimmed for months. Narcissa meticulously wove her hair into several braids, carefully wrapping them around her head to form a neat crown.
"You know, I always wished I had a daughter," the blonde woman confessed. "I wouldn't exchange my son for anyone, of course, but it would still be nice to have another child in the house. Especially now that Draco is off at Hogwarts most of the time. I can't help but worry that he'll get himself hurt."
"He's a good student," Moon said, "even if he has the occasional bad idea during Care of Magical Creatures."
"Thanks again for saving him that day. I'm still not sure why he thought to insult that Hippogriff. I don't know what I would have done if he had been injured."
'You would have raised hell and insisted that Buckbeak be executed, even though Draco provoked him,' Moon thought. 'You care for your son more than anything. If he had lost a chunk of hair that day, you would have taken offence.'
"I still don't understand why you threw yourself into danger, though," Narcissa continued as she pinned another section of a braid to the crown. "Surely you knew that it was dangerous?"
"I did, but I was more worried about Draco."
"Did you think the possibility of getting injured was worth keeping my son safe?"
"I didn't really think, I just… reacted," Moon answered. She saw Narcissa nod slowly through the mirror, and she sighed. "Getting into dangerous situations is sort of common now between champions. An angry Hippogriff isn't as dangerous as some of the things I dealt with at home."
"I see," the woman whispered. "Are such things daily occurrences?"
"Not really. It's rather peaceful most of the time. Unless we go searching for danger, there isn't much to worry about nowadays."
"But there was in the past?"
"Occasionally, there'd be… organizations that popped up," Moon said carefully. She could see Narcissa stiffen. "They weren't all the same. Some were just criminal organizations with money, some were after powerful pokémon, and some had twisted ideas to take over the region."
She gave a half-hearted smile. "That's probably why all of us champions rose to power shortly after starting our journeys. There were always plenty of people to fight."
"You went up against an entire organization?"
"Two, really, but one was working for the other. I wasn't alone in fighting them, but we were outnumbered anyway. It was strange, really, that we were able to win at all.
"That's not to mention the groups that the others faced," she said, smiling a little wider. "There were some really tough people that started their own followings, but they were all beaten within a year by one champion in the making. I don't know who the worst or the most powerful was, though. Point of contention at meetings."
Narcissa twisted the last braid and pinned it in place. "I still find it difficult to imagine someone your age acting like the Minister, or even an Auror."
"I still find it difficult to believe that people don't start formal schooling until they're eleven," Moon said with a laugh. "I could have been training to be a doctor or a professor at that age. I was running around the country at that age."
"I know things are different where you're from, but I can't help worrying," Narcissa said, turning Moon away from the mirror and carefully starting on the young girl's makeup. "I just keep seeing Draco in your place. I don't know if I could have let him go on a journey like your mother let you. He's only going to school, the school I went to, and yet I still worry…"
"That's part of life, I guess," Moon said. "To be perfectly honest, I wouldn't want anyone to go through what I did. It was long, exhausting, and downright terrifying at some points. I wouldn't trade it for anything, but I wouldn't want to relive it either."
The conversation lulled as Narcissa began applying more makeup on Moon. It was difficult to talk when someone was focusing on getting a perfectly straight line of lipstick or trying not to accidently poke an eye with a mascara brush. Eventually, the woman was done with her work and allowed Moon to look in the mirror as she went to retrieve some jewellery pieces. Moon slowly let her new appearance sink in.
The person in the mirror was her, and yet it she looked extremely different from how she normally looked. Moon had worn makeup in the past, but nothing close to what Narcissa had done. Her lips were a soft pink, her blue eyes stood out using light touches of eyeshadow and eyeliner, and her cheeks had become rosy. Nothing like the lip gloss and mascara she wore to parties previously.
Narcissa returned holding some old boxes. She met Moon's eye in the mirror and smiled.
"These are old Malfoy family heirlooms," the woman said, setting the boxes on the vanity and opening them up. "There's so many of them that it's hard to keep track of them all. I found these awhile back, and I thought they would look good on you."
Delicate silver chains with crystal flowers hung from her neck and her ears. A comb with fabric flowers was added to her hair. No finicky bracelets or rings, just simple jewellery that enhanced her appearance rather than distracted from it.
"Perfect," Narcissa said. "You will make a lovely first impression now."
The older woman left soon after, leaving behind a hand-sized purse for Moon to use. It was already four in the afternoon when her makeover was finished. Narcissa was most likely going to get ready herself (or have the family house elves assist her, because it did take the better part of two hours for Moon to look the way she did), and there wasn't much Moon could do until six. One of the house elves would escort her to the doors of the ballroom before disappearing, meaning that she would have to walk in and have her name be ticked off the list without anyone guiding her. She had never gone to a party with a date. Hau had jokingly offered on more than one occasion, and she had teased Gladion with the possibility, but she had never used her 'plus-one' invitation. That being said, she had always known that one of the other champions was there to greet her. She had even dragged Red to some of the parties on someone else's (usually Blue's) orders.
Now she was going to an event without them.
Knowing the Malfoys well enough and knowing the names of a handful of students who might show up wasn't the same as having her friends being there. She couldn't play wallflower all night with Red, or discuss legendary pokémon with May, or help Blue plan his next prank. It certainly wouldn't be a fun night with her friends.
Something clicked in the back of her mind, and she grabbed the small purse that had been left for her. She went to where her pokémon were resting in their capsules. One pokéball was selected out of the six, and slipped into the purse.
'There's got to be someone who asks to see my pokémon,' Moon thought, 'and no one in their right mind would be frightened by Ninetales.'
As the arms of the clock began to turn towards six, there was a knock at the door. Moon opened it to see Finny standing there. The elf gestured for her to follow him down the winding hallways of the manor. She walked next to Finny, letting him lead but making it look to any observers that the elf was following her. They made their way through the corridors, eventually stopping a few steps from a set of large, ornate doors.
"Finny hopes you have a nice night, miss," the elf said, vanishing shortly afterward.
Moon took a deep breath, and walked towards the doors. They swung open as she approached. Somewhere, a clock began to chime, indicating that it was six o'clock. As she entered the room, she spotted a wizard standing in front of a floating piece of parchment.
"Name?" the wizard asked in a plummy voice.
"Moon Blakesley," she replied, watching the man's eyes scroll down the sheet. His eyes suddenly lit up as they found her name.
"Here on invitation from the Malfoy family?" he said, sounding surprised. "Strange… they're not usually the ones to show off special guests."
He placed a checkmark near her name and gestured for her to move forward. Moon slowly walked down the staircase, thankful that she wasn't wearing heels that night. The room below was filled with round tables covered in green cloths. Silver candles and holly centrepieces sat on the tables, which were strangely void of plates or silverware. Instead, at each seat, there was a card, folded in such a way that it held itself up. There was a small area near the stairs that didn't have any tables where the guests were milling about. There weren't that many people there, but she did spot Draco talking to Crabbe and Goyle. They were all wearing new dress robes, ones that looked like suits, but the coat portion went down to their knees. Glancing around, Moon saw that other dress robes were much longer, and that theirs were on the short side.
Moon headed over to the Slytherin boys. She could hear Draco speaking in a low voice, but she couldn't make out the words. One of the others responded to something the blond had said.
"I'm telling you," Draco said, his voice rising in irritation, "that's not even close to… there is no way they'd do that!"
"Who wouldn't do what now?" Moon asked innocently when she got close enough. The three boys started. They hadn't seen her approaching them. Draco recovered first, narrowing his eyes at the other two.
"A ridiculous theory Crabbe had. Nothing too important," he answered. "You look lovely this evening."
"Told you I intended to be the pretty one," she said. Her eyes went over to Crabbe, whose expression was especially confused. Whatever 'theory' he was talking about hadn't been his own. Not that he would say that around Draco.
"I would recommend finding your seat as soon as possible," the blond stated. "It's going to be tough when there's more people here."
"Duly noted," she said with a nod. Moon moved away from them, noticing their conversation being picked up again when she was ten feet away.
She didn't immediately go for the head table, a rectangular one near the back of the room with six spaced out chairs. She knew that the Malfoys would be sitting there, and if she had gotten a seat there, they would have let her know. She soon found her seat at a nearby table. Her name was written in the same curly handwriting that was on her invitation.
She went around the table to see who was sitting with her.
'Dorian Greengrass,' she read, 'along with his wife, Idonea, and Daphne and Astoria. And the last one…'
She paused when she saw the last name.
Ragna Fawley
Moon knew subconsciously that Aidan had relatives, but she had never expected to meet one. Especially not in a place where the happy, upbeat Healer would most certainly never tread. It was far too formal for him.
The Fawleys were members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but then again, so were the Weasleys. They weren't outspoken supremacists or the pinnacle of wealth. They weren't much of anything, really. They were just there, always in the background but not to the point of being forgotten or being shunned.
The young champion walked away from the table for the time being. There was no point in staying in one place when she could be doing something far more important.
Like trying to find something that wasn't champagne to drink.
More people filtered in through the doors as the hour passed. Moon watched them carefully, noting when someone important wandered through the doors. The Minister and his family were there, along with a woman dressed in medicine-pink dress robes. Some other members of the Ministry were there, although Moon couldn't name them off the top of her head. The head Healer at St Mungo's also made an appearance. After that came the families that were like the Malfoys, independently wealthy and influential. There were, unsurprisingly, no Aurors.
People picked food off of the trays that were being passed around by the hired staff. Adults chattered, and for the most part, so did the children. Moon stayed only as close to the crowd as strictly necessary. Draco was wandering between clusters of adults and schoolmates to talk. Strangely enough, he seemed to be keeping as far away from Moon as possible. It confused her, and if she was being perfectly honest with herself, upset her.
Seven came all too soon, and the young champion headed back to her table. She wasn't the first there. A woman with silver curls pinned to her head and a green dress robe sat across from her. The woman's eyes—a familiar warm brown—lit up when Moon took her seat.
"So you're the girl that Aidan is always writing about," the old woman said in a light voice.
Moon gave a small smile. "If he's writing about a transfer student he's working with on a project, then yes I am."
"Pleasure to meet you, sweetheart. Call me Ragna."
"Then please, call me Moon," the young champion said. She spotted Daphne and her family, and gave a small wave.
Dorian Greengrass was a stocky man, with thick black hair and a well-maintained beard. He gave off a sense of confidence that did not match that of the Malfoys. Idonea was an elegant woman with silver-blue eyes, wearing her curly brown hair in a neat twist. Their two daughters took after Idonea more, although Astoria's hair was more like her father's.
"Champion Blakesley, I presume?" Dorian said pleasantly. "The young witch who has half of the Unspeakables talking at last?"
"I haven't heard about that part, but yes," Moon replied.
"You've caused a bit of a stir in the Ministry," Idonea remarked as she took her seat. "Stuff about bridging the gap between two dimensions… and all that chatter from those friends of yours. Far too complicated for the Unspeakables to keep to themselves. They've been given permission to break their vow of silence to pull in favours. Of course, that's led to all of those rumours. Most of it is far beyond anything I've ever imagined. Those mythical creatures you work with sound downright frightful."
"Mum, please!" Moon heard one of the girls whisper hurriedly. Daphne was irate, but her demeanour was too cold to have been responsible for the small outburst. Astoria, on the other hand, had turned bright red.
"They're not that dangerous if you raise them right, Mrs. Greengrass," Moon said. "I'm not sure who led you to that conclusion."
"Some loud young woman. Named after a tree of some sort."
Of course it was May Maple.
When everyone was seated, plates appeared on the table out of thin air. Seconds later, the first course—a salad containing pecans and cranberries—was sitting on the plates. The glasses came next, filling up with wine for the adults and a red juice for the underage guests. Moon took a hesitant sip. It was a punch of some sort, although she couldn't recognize the flavour.
Idonea began picking away at her salad, pushing the cranberries to the edge of the plate. "You're fighting dragons, from what I hear. I can't imagine how that is not dangerous."
"We have a different definition for what counts as a dragon," Moon said. "Some of the dragons we have don't even look like dragons. One is actually just a bird with fluffy wings. Not exactly something dangerous."
"Why would you label a bird as a dragon?" Daphne asked, mildly more receptive towards Moon than she was at the start.
"It's a type, or just a way to categorize its strengths and weaknesses," Moon answered before taking a bite of her salad.
"So these dragons of yours aren't anything like ours," Idonea said.
"Some of them are pretty close in appearance, but certainly not temper."
Of course, the Hydreigon was known for its poor temperament, and some of the legendary dragons had the occasional tantrum when things didn't go their way, but Moon didn't want to frighten the woman. That was May's job.
Ragna smiled at the young champion from across the table. "Now, I certainly haven't heard anything about dragons," she said cheerfully, "but I have heard from my grandson about that unique creature of yours. Nihilego, wasn't it?"
"That would be the one," Moon replied. Confusion fell over the faces of the Greengrass family. The champion was preparing another explanation when Ragna started speaking.
"Apparently a Nihilego's venom is going to be the main ingredient in a new healing draught," the woman said excitedly. "If my grandson—and young Moon here, of course—succeed, well, it would mean the end of lycanthropy."
There was a stunned silence at the table. The sounds of glasses clinking and people talking continued around them, but it was like that didn't matter to the six of them.
It was Astoria who eventually broke the silence with her whispered, "What?"
"A cure for lycanthropy," Ragna repeated. "Finally, a way to get rid of werewolves once and for all."
Moon hid a grimace. "The venom itself strips away lycanthropy, but as the… original test subject is unavailable for observation, it's too dangerous to release the venom itself as a cure, so Fawley's—Aidan has been looking for ways to make it less volatile."
"From what Aidan has said, it only makes people tired for a week or so," Ragna said. "I don't see why you don't just round up every werewolf and do what you did to that Greyback."
"That would take too long," Moon said. "Some are in hiding, and I doubt anyone would react kindly to having something forced on them."
"Should it really be left to them to take it or not?" Daphne said. "Even if, theoretically, most of them would willingly be cured, having even one person decide not to be cured runs the risk of having more people being infected."
"If we want werewolves to take the cure willingly, or resist less, it's in our best interest to have the least amount of side effects as possible."
"But should the cure be enforced?" Daphne questioned. "Should it be mandatory, or should it be voluntary?"
"Should this be a conversation held over dinner?" Moon retorted.
"Is there a better place for conversation?" Ragna said lightly.
"It should be mandatory, getting cured," Idonea said. "There's no excuse for not wanting to get rid of lycanthropy."
"But what would it mean if it were mandatory?" Dorian asked his wife. "Werewolves being rounded up in droves, taken to the Ministry against their will and forced to drink a hazardous potion?"
"The sooner lycanthropy ceases to exist, the better," Ragna said, her brown eyes hard and cold like rocks. "We can finally stop worrying about our children and grandchildren being snatched away from us. I know some people are sympathetic nowadays—I have no idea why Aidan is—but you can't argue that every day that passes without a cure isn't a day without fear, without freedom."
The old woman brought a hand to her chest. "My grandson was killed eighteen years ago by a werewolf. I wait for the day that no one else has to live with that curse."