AN: Thank you to all who've read the first chapter, its very much appreciated.
July, 1991 - Summer Ball 2/2
Draco and his friends were having a delightful time until they were forced to take their seats for dinner. Draco despised formal dining. Meals with his family were fine. His mother and father, and even his miserable old grandfather, were normal and relaxed enough. Attending formal dinners, however, was a drag. A total chore, and not one he felt suited to. Fortunately, he'd been seated at a table with his friends a small distance away from the adults. A kids' table, yes. But it was better than making small talk with doddery old relatives. Or worse, random business men his father worked with.
Theo took the seat next to Draco, with Blaise about to join them. Before he could, Mr Zambini pulled his son aside for what Draco imagined would be a warning to behave. Theo and Draco tittered to each other, seeing their best friend nod along, rolling his eyes. They laughed aloud when Mr Zambini decided their mate wasn't paying him enough attention and cuffed him across the head.
Narcissa swooped in and completely ruined Draco's day. At first Draco assumed she had come to remind him it's impolite to laugh at his friend, and he had a retort ready on the tip of his tongue. But no. it was worse.
"Harry, dear," she said, pulling the oh so special boy in close. "Why don't you sit here next to Draco? Family should stick together, yes?"
She might have been talking to Harry, but Draco knew it would be for his benefit. The wide-eyed stare she gave him bellied the warning to play nicely with the superstar. She didn't even stick around for him the chance to give a rebuttal.
Harry took the seat planned for Blaise and smiled tightly at Draco.
"Why are you smiling at me?" Draco spat in Harry's direction. "Weirdo."
"I don't care what you think of me, Draco," Harry told the boy he sat beside. "No one cares what spoilt brats like you think."
Theo helpfully laughed. "Be nice to your new cousin, Draco," he said, in a voice mocking Narcissa Malfoy.
Draco rammed his right elbow in the boy's left side. "The half-breed is not my cousin."
The middle sons of the Weasley family were seated with Draco's gang at the children's table. They gasped at hearing how little lord Malfoy spoke to Harry, which drew the attention of nearby adults. Those doddery old relatives and wizarding dignitaries couldn't have heard Draco, so he wasn't worried. They knew something was going on, though, as they saw the shock on the faces of the redheaded boys and Theo laughing in front of them.
When Blaise took his seat, now three down from Draco and Theo. Their joy infected him and he soon forgot his father's warning to 'act with proper decorum'.
"What's going on? Why do they look so miserable?" he asked, gesturing to the Weasley clan.
Theo leaned across the Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson to share what he and Draco were finding so funny, and soon Blaise doubled over in laughter, too. Even Daphne and Pansy joined in, though they were more polite than the boys and their chuckles were quieter.
Percy Weasley, aged 15 and easily the oldest at the children's table, began telling the boys off whilst shaking his head. "That's inappropriate, Draco," he said. "It's, it's…"
Draco, fuelled on by his friends' support, was quick off the mark. "Have you got a stutter, Weasley?"
Vinnie and Greg joined in the laughter and the girls laughed a little louder, egging Draco on further.
"We might as well be dining with mud-bloods!"
Another gasp from the Weasleys, and this time the nearby adults who had kept half an ear on the children did the same. They turned to tell the adults next to them who hadn't quite heard and in no time at all the news of Draco Malfoy and his little crew cursing at the children's table would make its way around them all - but Draco and his little crew were unaware of this so continued to mock Harry and the Weasleys.
Theo held onto his side as the tears rolled down his face. "Stutter! Half-breeds! Mud-bloods!" he said, repeating Draco's words.
"Theodore!"
Mrs Nott stomped toward her son, red faced with her brow furrowed. Her appearance contrasted strongly with her husband, who was a thin, tall, and severe looking man who Theo took after. She was rounder, shorter, and all together, jollier looking. Draco knew Theo's parents well enough to know they were lovely people, generous, and affectionate. But when they were angry, they were horrid. All parents were, actually.
"What on earth have I just heard?"
She wrenched Theo from his chair. As he'd been caught unaware, he yanked the tablecloth. Three glasses of pumpkin juice toppled over in the act, which Draco and his friends found hilarious. Thankfully, the meal had yet to be served, so a few spilled drinks were the only damage.
House-elves sprang into action, whipping one table cloth away to be replaced with another. Glasses were refilled and the table reset. All the while, Theo was being told off by his mother for cursing, and at the Summer Ball, no less! The poor boy couldn't take his mother seriously. He wouldn't have dared behave that way under any other circumstance, but he had found Draco so funny, and he couldn't stop laughing!
He tried much harder when his father got up from his seat. And harder still when he realised all the diners in Malfoy Manor's grand dining hall were gawping at him.
"But I was just…"
"Enough!" Ted Nott snapped, ending whatever excuse Theo could spout. He took hold of the still slightly smirking boy by his arm and they both left the room.
The diners fell silent, all pretending not to listen to young Theodore Nott being told off by his father, and the smacks and yelps that followed.
Draco and Blaise continued to laugh long after the rest of the would-be Slytherin crew had decided against carrying on. They were the only ones, though. They were the only ones making any noise at all, in fact. Because the room was so quiet, everyone heard Percy Weasley tut and say, "Theo was only parroting Draco."
Draco slammed his glass down, a little pumpkin juice splashing over the rim and onto his fingers as he gripped the glass with all his eleven-year-old strength.
"Grass," he said, glaring at Percy. "I know Weasleys are blood-traitors, but don't you have any honour at all?"
It was all he could do before Lucius appeared at his side and treated him much the same as Theo's mother had treated her son. Except astronomically worse! With a forceful yank on his arm, Draco was made to stand and then smacked on the spot in front of everyone!
"How dare you!" Lucius hissed, smacking him again.
"Harry started it!" Draco twisted in his father's hold, getting nowhere fast. "It's all Harry's fault!"
Lucius didn't let go of his son, but he waited for Draco to explain himself. Which the boy couldn't really do. He might have got away with no explanation at all if his stupid Uncle Mutt hadn't turned up to make matters worse.
"Is that so, Draco?" said Sirius. "How?"
With his father blocking his view, Draco couldn't see much of Sirius. But, based on his tone and Harry's sudden interest in his hands, he figured Uncle Mutt was wondering if Harry had started it all.
"Well," Draco began, in the sneery tone his father hated. "Harry smiled at me, and…"
"Harry smiled at you?"
Draco cursed his luck. Sirius sounded far less annoyed, far too quickly.
"It was the way he smiled," Draco explained as though he were talking to some muggle reprobate. "Like we're mates. Ugh!" He said no more as the pressure in his arm increased when his father flexed his grip.
Draco heard his father making apologies on his behalf - something that Draco would no doubt suffer for, he thought, grumbling to himself. There was no logic in his situation. How could there be? He had made his position on Uncle Mutt and his half-breed brat completely clear to his parents. He'd put his foot down time and time again in the last month, and yet they still failed to understand. In fact, he'd put his foot down so many times that one might think he looked like a toddler in a tantrum, stamping his feet over not getting his own way. Regardless, Draco Malfoy would not make friends and play nicely with Harry bloody Potter!
And it appeared Harry was happy with that. Whilst Lucius and Sirius conducted a quiet conversation above their heads, Harry peered around his adopted father to fix his eyes on Draco.
Draco was stuck. He couldn't move away as his father held him in place, and he couldn't turn away because that could be seen as submissive. He settled on scowling at Wonder Boy and sneered, "What?"
"I'm not your friend," Harry sneered right back at him. "I smiled at you because I was being polite."
Draco scoffed. "Ill-bred half-breeds don't know how to be polite."
"Were you being polite when you lied about Fred making the unbreakable bow on you?"
"It's vow, you idiot," Draco shot back, and then realised what Harry had said. "I mean, I…I did no such thing."
The boys' argument had been conducted as quietly as their fathers had above their heads, but they could still hear each other. For instance, Draco heard his father explaining to Sirius that his son's disrespect resulted from 'showing off' and 'trying to impress his friends'. And they heard Sirius say, 'I know where the little lord has learned such things'. And Lucius heard his son call Harry a half-breed, and he heard Harry expose Draco's lies. A good few around them heard it all, too, and as they gleefully discussed what they said, they added an embellishment or two along the way, as Chinese whispers do.
All in all, everyone heard far too much.
"What was that?" Lucius's icy tone cut right through Draco and Harry. He sounded dangerous, like he might snap at any moment.
Neither knew who he was speaking to, but both jumped to answer.
Draco's response was evidently not required as his father shook him like a rag doll.
"Not you," he hissed at his son through gritted teeth. "Harry, what did you say?"
Draco felt the grip on his upper arm tighten and his blood pulse against the pressure. Lucius hadn't been in the grounds when Draco was giving the dramatic performance of 'terrified young wizard'. Narcissa had mentioned it briefly as they passed like ships in the night, whilst tending their guests. He had thought little of it until he heard Harry state Draco had lied about the whole thing. Sadly, that seemed a far likelier scenario than Fred Weasley threatening an unbreakable vow for something so simple as a chess match.
Draco noticed Harry remained fixated on him, as if unable to move. There was a fear in his eyes that he struggled to understand for a moment. What did Harry have to fear? It was Lucius who was angry, not Sirius. It wasn't Harry who would suffer; it was Draco!
Draco didn't feel scared. Nervous? Most definitely nervous, but he'd never feared his father.
Before Sirius had brought his newly adopted son to the Black family party, Draco had heard his parents discussing Harry and his early life. It sounded a ghastly experience living with his muggle family - not enough space, not enough food, not enough money. Draco couldn't imagine much worse—might as well be a Weasley!—but there was worse, and he'd heard it as his parents discussed 'the boy who lived'. The muggle family had been quite cruel to Harry, apparently. They mistreated him, they beat him, they hit him with belts and canes and even frying pans! Harry's trepidation made more sense when Draco thought on it.
"Harry?" Sirius prompted, placing warm hands on his shoulders and pulling him back to sit properly in his chair.
Draco could hardly see him now and that made it easier for Harry to speak.
"Well, I heard him. Draco and his friends. I was sitting in the grass next to the chess set and…"
Harry stuttered and came to a halt when Sirius asked why he wasn't joining in with the others. Narcissa had told her cousin that she'd encouraged the boys to play together.
"I erm…"
Harry lacked the wherewithal to lie like Draco's gang. No creativity with tale telling at all. Yet another example of why the golden child wasn't a suitable fit for Draco and his mates. Just as Draco predicted, Harry told the truth.
"They didn't want me to play chess with them and I had nowhere else to go, so I just…I just sat at the side."
What a sad sack! Draco chuckled despite his precarious situation.
He heard his father growl just behind his head before a flurry of sharp swats landed on his backside. He had stayed silent through the first two smacks, but these hurt much more. Still, he wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him cry. Okay, so his eyes were wet, a bit, and he may have made some embarrassing yelpy noises, but that was not the same as crying. It absolutely was not.
While Draco's father was still reprimanding him for a minor misunderstanding, Sirius lovingly embraced Harry by squeezing his shoulder and kissing his head. How was that fair? It was Harry's bloody fault!
"And the unbreakable vow?" Lucius prompted Harry.
Draco couldn't understand why his father wouldn't let a sleeping dog lie? The truth would bring Lucius Malfoy as much shame as it would Draco, surely? And his mother would be mortified. Some lies are best left alone, and this was one of them.
"Oh, that," Harry said. He seemed to wish Lucius would stop poking him on the matter as much as Draco did.
"I heard Draco and his friends congratulating each other, that's all. Blaise said how brilliant their trick was and how Draco thought they were done for before Theo came up with a lie to throw Aunt Narcissa off…"
Harry spoke so quietly that Draco struggled to hear it all as they condemned him at the dinner table. Theo was still outside the dining room with his parents. Draco knew no sooner than he would return, his father would be marching him back out after being informed of Harry's damning confession.
"If we were lying, why would you agree with us? Huh? Huh?"
Blaise sounded a little too pushy, a little too eager, a little too like a 'gotcha' to be believed - Lucius told him so and beckoned the boy's father over.
Draco watched Mr Zambini rise from his chair and stalk around the diners whilst his father offered yet more apologies to the room.
Why was he apologising? Everyone was watching the torrid scene playing out at the children's table with rapt attention. They were having a great time! There hadn't been so much entertainment at a Malfoy event since Regulus Black's first ball when he'd got into the manor's potion laboratory. Draco had heard that story a thousand times, and it still amused him to think of Regulus starting Hogwarts with his eyebrows burned off.
There was no time to think about Regulus' disastrous ball, though. Not with his own ringing in his ears. Draco's heart thudded in his chest as he listened to his father relaying Harry's revelation. It sounded much worse in Lucius's voice than it had in Harry's. Harry made it sound a little sad and forlorn. Lucius made it sound malicious and cruel and conniving.
When Mr Zambini had heard enough, he ordered Blaise to quit snivelling and follow him. Draco side-eyed the man's back as he left the dining room. Blaise hadn't been snivelling. Not much. Why did parents insist on making life so miserably embarrassing for their children? They were the cruel ones, not Draco and his gang.
He could still talk his way out of it, though, surely? There would be a way. He was a cunning would-be Slytherin, and he could worm his way out of anything!
Harry sniffed just out of view and there came a wobble to his voice that sounded crushingly sad when he next spoke to Sirius.
"They keep calling me a half-breed, and you a mutt."
Lucius needed to hear no more. He apologised to his guests (yet again) and clicked at house-elves to serve whether they were ready or not. The food would provide a welcome distraction from his son's foul mouth.
Draco wasn't laughing anymore, but the Weasleys were. They weren't actually laughing - they all had their heads down, looking at their empty plates. But Draco knew they would smirk at the very least. He would! All except Fred Weasley. He looked directly at Draco wearing a satisfied grin despite his obvious discomfort sitting on his scorched backside.
He chanced a look at Mr and Mrs Weasley across the dining hall. Whilst they were interested in the scene, they hadn't approached. To Draco's mind, it proved the Weasley family were all a big bunch of smug gits who thought they could do no wrong. The twins caused much more trouble than Draco and his friends, so the Weasley parents should have jumped in and sorted out their sons if trouble was brewing. Draco had to remind himself that they did just that earlier in the day at the chess match, which is why he was in this predicament now. As realisation dawned, he realised he'd been unfair to Harry - it wasn't Harry's fault alone; it was the Weasleys, too!
"What do you have to say for yourself, Draco?" Lucius asked. "I am disgusted by your behaviour!"
Draco's face burned with embarrassment, almost at hot as his bottom - Lucius had done a good job of reigniting the earlier smacks he'd given the boy. There would be more to come though, Draco knew it. Maybe not that night, as the ball would finish quite late. Instead, he would be called to his father's study in the morning and then he'd really feel it.
A red-eyed Theo rejoined the diners, sniffing and wiping his face with his sleeve through a forced apology whilst his parents loomed over him. When they were satisfied, Theo was told to sit back down. When he whimpered in his chair, he was told not to make a fuss. Draco couldn't help but think what evil rotters parents were. All of them.
Ted Nott stayed to hear the update from Lucius whilst his wife retook her seat, still shaking her head at Theo. No sooner had the woman sat down, than she saw her husband frog marching their son back out the door. Thinking better of getting involved for a second time, she allowed Ted to take care of it and turned to her neighbour to see what she had missed.
Half the table, Draco included, jumped on hearing a wicked crack coming from the hallway. Parents are horrible. Draco didn't have long to ponder on Theo's humiliation as his own soon took up much of his thoughts.
"We will deal with your lies later," Lucius said to his son, his white hot anger peeking through the forced-calm demeanour. "You will apologise immediately for your appalling language and the disturbance you have caused."
The fingers on Draco's left hand began to tingle. His father had held his arm in a vice grip for the last 15 minutes or so and he was cutting short the blood supply. Rather than alleviating his pain, Lucius made it all the worse. He lifted Draco up by his arm. Up and up until his shoulder stuck out awkwardly and he rose to his tiptoes.
"Do I need to wash your mouth out now, or do you have something to say for yourself?"
Draco looked up at his father in wide-eyed horror. You cannot be serious!
"I will not stand for you cursing like a common…" Lucius broke off before finishing.
Draco assumed he had intended to say mudblood. A common mudblood. Not in such company, however. His parents rarely said such a word in front of him, either, but they definitely didn't use the word in front of others. It made being in trouble for cursing even worse. Even more unjust, unfair, unacceptable. His parents could curse if they chose to, so why couldn't he? He was about to start Hogwarts! His parents needed to pull themselves together and start treating him like the young man he was. Not the child they believed him to be.
When Draco failed to offer an obediently apology like Theo had, Lucius raised his voice a little louder and added, "We are very close to visiting my study."
Around the table, the other young wizards sucked in their breath. They all understood the depressingly obvious meaning behind Lucius's words. Draco had known them all since he could remember—the Spring picnics, Yule celebrations, birthday parties, weddings. He even shared private tutors and Young Wizard Camp with some of them, except for the Weasleys, who couldn't afford it. He knew very well that some of the older ones who had long since tired of his 'excessive confidence' would hope to see him dragged from the dining room kicking and screaming. Draco would die before giving them the satisfaction of seeing such a thing. With sly, cool eyes cutting across the gathering, his little chest puffed out and he jutted his chin in defiance.
"That boy needs taking down a few pegs, Lucius."
Draco did a double take, checking who could say such an evil thing. The animated portraits of distant and dead Malfoy ancestors hanging on the walls could be counted on to make Draco's life a misery. This time, however, judging by the twisted smirk on his grandfather's face, Draco knew where to direct his ire. He glared across the room at the miserable old coot for daring to get involved.
The Malfoy elder was responsible for at least half of the spankings Draco had endured in his lifetime. Old Abraxas was always calling for harsher punishment of his grandson, giving the boy plenty of smacks himself when he believed it necessary. A few of those had been the result of Draco referring to his grandfather as 'Old Abraxas', mimicking his father. Lucius rarely got away with saying it in his father's presence, and Draco never did. Knowing it annoyed him so meant both Lucius and Draco did it all the more often. A wizard in his fifties was not 'old' by anyone's standards, especially Abraxas Malfoy's!
"You will stop this nonsense at once," Lucius hissed, leaning in close to Draco's ear. When Draco tried to pull away, he was gripped tighter, held closer. "Or we will skip the study and I'll spank you here."
Draco's eyes sprung wide open in horror - all pretence evaporated. His father's hot breath hit the back of his collar, coiling around his throat in a stranglehold. His face flushed, cheeks burning all the way up to his ears.
That was the worst thing about Abraxas getting involved - it made Lucius temperamental, and Draco struggled to predict which way he'd go. Sometimes Lucius would end any idea of punishing his son simply to defy his father. Other times, he'd go much harder on the boy to placate the old guy. From the look in his father's eyes, Draco guessed this would be a case of the latter. His assumption became reality when his father decided that he'd taken too long to come to his senses and smacked him again.
All the blinking in the world couldn't prevent the tears now and they spilled over his eyes as he
"I apologise," he said, voice barely above a whisper.
It wasn't good enough. Even Draco understood that. But since the house-elves were done cleaning the table, and the waiters were serving dinner, Lucius let his son go..
"You will sit, you will eat, and then you will spend the rest of the evening at my side."
And that was that.
That was Draco's first Summer Ball.
He spent the rest of the evening holding his father's hand, being berated by various extended family members and hearing stories about what would happen to every Tom Dick and Harry had they acted up the way he did. Except the actual, super-special Harry, of course, who no doubt would be praised for coming up with such an ingenious slur and cursing at the dinner table.
There were a few stories that piqued his interest, however patronisingly they were told.
"You Malfoy men do like to make an entrance with your first balls, don't you?" said Horace Slughorn.
He was an aged old wizard who Draco knew had attended Hogwarts with the now Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. He was older than Draco's father, and his grandfather and even his great-grandfather! Naturally, for a wizard, though Slughorn was certainly old, he was not yet past it. It wasn't uncommon for wizards to reach their 150th year. Draco wondered how much longer Old Sluggy had left as he warbled on.
"Oh yes, I remember Brutus, that's your great-grandfather, Draco," he said to the boy, as though Draco wouldn't know who his own great-grandfather was. It was doubly absurd as Brutus Malfoy, the man himself, stood beside tipsy old Slughorn! "He made a mark on our sacred-28 get-togethers. Didn't you, Brutus?"
Brutus looked disparagingly toward Slughorn. Draco thought his own father was on the stricter side of firm, and he knew Abraxas had been even harder on Lucius. How Abraxas had fared under Brutus's iron fist, Draco couldn't say. However, from his own dealings with his great-grandfather, Draco knew those stories wouldn't make for a pleasant bedtime story.
"I was more reserved than those who followed," said Brutus.
Despite Draco's annoyance with his father in that moment, he sought his protection, tucking himself into his side when Brutus Malfoy set his eyes on him. Brutus didn't linger on the boy for long, his glower shifting to Lucius and then his own son, Abraxas.
"I'm not sure I can agree with you there, young Brutus." Slughorn swilled the fire whiskey around in the crystal glass he held as he raised an eyebrow to 'Young Brutus' (who was nearing 85 years of age!). You did set your bed sheets on fire when you were sent away from your first ball, did you not? And we'll not talk about why you were sent away."
Both Draco and Lucius turned to the family patriarch with matching, open-mouthed smirks as neither knew that story! Abraxas clearly knew, however, as he turned away with a hand covering his smile. Before good old Sluggy could divulge any details, or his own son could do the job for him, Brutus put an end to the conversation.
"This is hardly the time for telling tall tales, Horace. We are trying to impress upon the boy that proper decorum is expected at our gatherings."
Brutus had the sort of no-nonsense tone that brooked no argument - it made him an excellent lawyer, a role he still performed with an untarnished record of success when he was not the sitting judge in the Ministry of Magic. It didn't quite do the trick on Old Sluggy, though.
Just as Slughorn opened his mouth, Brutus's filled the air. "We should refill that glass, Horace," he said, chinking his own glass against Slughorn's.
Draco, Lucius, and Abraxas held in their laughter until Brutus had cleared their path. Then they let rip. Brutus heard them and shot a furious look over his shoulder as he hurried Slughorn away.
The fun didn't last long for Draco. Lucius suddenly remembered his son was in trouble and stopped laughing. Draco's froze in his throat quite suddenly, too, when the man sighed and looked down at him with disappointment. Lucius retook his son's hand and continued dragging Draco around Wizarding dignitaries for the rest of the ball.
Lucius wouldn't even dance with his wife, leaving the boy with absolutely no time for any fun at all! Abraxas offered to mind his grandson for a while, but Lucius turned the offer down. A small saving grace. His uncle Severus offered, also, which Draco was far keener on. Lucius shot down his adopted brother's offer, too.
By the end of the ball, Draco was glad to see the back of everyone.
At least Mrs Nott treated Theo similarly childishly by insisting that he stand in the corner of the ballroom where she could keep a close eye on him until they were ready to leave. Draco felt certain that the Notts stayed far longer than they usually would. They were amongst the very last to leave which was most unlike them. Theo would agree when they discussed it at school the next month and also admitted to nodding off a few times with his head leaning against the wall.
Draco wasn't sure which of them came off worse.
Still, however briefly, he'd had his friends hanging onto every word, lapping up his spite whilst he courted their attention. That would help him settle into Hogwarts as the leader of the Slytherin pack.