XVI. Limelight
Ginny took a deep breath, her eyes closed, attempting to calm her frayed nerves. Upon opening them, she met Katrina Street-Porter's blue eyes, twinkling with a hint of amusement.
"I remember feeling quite nervous at my first Hellebore Ball too," Katrina shared, her voice tinged with nostalgia.
Ginny simply nodded, keeping her apprehension about being amidst the high society of the regime to herself. The prospect of the evening not unfolding as meticulously planned, despite her exhaustive preparations, loomed over her. Only three months earlier, such a scenario would have been inconceivable to Ginny, who was then only a humble part-time salesclerk at an apothecary. Her rapid ascent in such a brief span was nothing short of astonishing.
"Everything will go smoothly, trust me. I've orchestrated five of these balls," Katrina reassured her, her eyes closed while a makeup artist applied shimmering eyeshadow. "Each one has been a roaring success."
They were in an exclusive lounge at Chimera Palace, the legendary venue where the Hellebore Ball was held annually. The first guests were due to arrive within the hour.
Katrina had enlisted the services of beauty specialists to primp and prepare them for the ball, considering it an integral part of the overall event coordination. Ginny had slightly raised an eyebrow at the inclusion of a makeup artist and hairstylist under the heading of "professional expenses," but she remained silent. The Governor, unconcerned with such minor matters, routinely approved their invoices without a second glance. Katrina had no reservations about exploiting this trust.
When the makeup artist completed her work, Ginny stared at her reflection in the mirror, awestruck. She hardly recognised herself. Her fiery red hair cascaded in radiant waves over her shoulders, framing her face like a fiery crown. Her skin glowed, flawlessly enhanced, with a touch of apricot blush on her cheeks and vibrant emerald eyeshadow accentuating her eyes. She had never looked so sophisticated.
"I told you they would transform you into a million Galleons," Katrina remarked, clearly pleased.
She examined her own elegant updo meticulously.
"Could you pop downstairs to check on the preparations?" she requested.
Ginny nodded and made her way out. She walked down the palace's grand corridor and descended to the kitchens, where a whirlwind of activity buzzed. Over thirty staff members scurried about, their movements punctuated by the rhythmic clangs of utensils and the warmth radiating from ovens. Ginny's ears caught a loud, irritated voice piercing the cacophony of kitchen sounds. An older woman's sharp reprimands echoed amidst a group of black-and-white-clad waiters, her harsh words directed at a younger colleague.
"For Voldemort's sake, how can one be so foolish? Where on earth did they recruit you?" the older woman scolded sharply, casting a disparaging look at the young staffer.
Ginny inwardly winced as the scene stirred up unpleasant memories. Her mind flashed back to her days at Burke's Bountiful Brews, where her boss's reprimands were more like public shamings, inflicted for even the slightest misstep. His blatant disregard for the presence of customers only amplified the humiliation. In those moments, Ginny would clench her fists and purse her lips, swallowing her words, as fear of reprisals outweighed her inner anguish.
After a brief hesitation, she decided to step in.
"Is everything under control?" she inquired in a polite yet firm tone, her eyes fixed on the head of staff.
The woman, momentarily stunned by Ginny's intervention, hastily concealed her surprise.
"Oh, yes, of course, madam," she replied quickly, her forced smile strained and insincere.
This woman, accustomed to Ginny's presence with Katrina, was probably unaware of Ginny's actual standing, which was not so different from many of the staff here.
"Proceed with your duties," the head of staff commanded.
The staff scattered, returning to their duties. Ginny's eyes remained fixed on the young woman who had just been reprimanded, her expression barely masking her distress. Ginny made her way across the kitchen, deftly evading a steaming pan, and followed the young woman into a storeroom overflowing with mead bottles of various types.
"Are you alright?" Ginny gently inquired.
The young woman's eyes darted back to Ginny, as if to confirm that the question was indeed directed at her. Upon realizing it was, she gave a hesitant nod, her surprise at Ginny's concern evident.
"I know what it's like to be demeaned by them," Ginny said quietly, crossing her arms.
The young woman's eyes narrowed with skepticism.
"Don't let appearances fool you," Ginny added, indicating her own elegant attire. "I, too, am of lower rank."
Instantly, Ginny detected a shift in the young woman's demeanour. Her expression softened, and a flicker of gratitude appeared in her eyes.
"Thank you for intervening," she murmured.
"It's no problem. I'm Ginevra, but please, call me Ginny."
"My name is Anabel, but Ana is fine," the young woman responded, her tension easing slightly.
Upon returning to the lounge where Katrina was waiting, Ginny felt a newfound sense of ease. She glided into an adjoining chamber to slip into her ball gown. During the fittings, she had been enchanted by the dazzling deep-red tulle dress. Its boat neckline gracefully bared her shoulders, and the mermaid silhouette flowed into a delicately embroidered train. The daring design clung to her form, accentuated by a slender, waist-cinching belt. As she observed her reflection in the large, solid cherrywood mirror, the gown appeared even more stunning. The final touches to her makeup and hair further elevated her appearance. She stepped into her high-heeled sandals, contemplating the challenge of navigating in them throughout the evening.
"Ginny, you look absolutely stunning," Katrina exclaimed as she exited.
The two staff members present expressed their agreement with enthusiastic nods. Ginny's cheeks flushed and she offered them a gracious smile. She then adjusted her red lace mask, adorned with pearls, to cover the upper half of her face.
Shortly after, a surge of exhilaration swept through her as she descended the grand staircase of the Chimera Palace, its imposing English-style balustrades and intricate iron scrollwork adding to its grandeur. A lively buzz filled the hall as guests streamed in.
The memories of the Malfoy hotel's inauguration, where she had been relegated to cramped quarters, flooded back to her. How the tables had turned, she mused with a mixture of satisfaction and amusement as she descended the steps.
This evening, she was at the pinnacle of elegance, and the admiring glances she garnered attested to it. Unbeknownst to the other guests, a witch of her stature was among them, blending seamlessly into the regime's elite, impeccably disguised as one of their own. Each polite smile and agreeable gesture she received ignited a secret thrill within her. If only they knew the truth behind the mask, she mused to herself, suppressing a chuckle at the irony. The sensation was exceptionally exhilarating.
Ginny followed Katrina towards the entrance of the grand ballroom, where she noticed Governor Cressida Warrington standing with her husband, Casparus. The Governor was elegantly dressed in a malachite green gown accessorized with a matching shawl. It was Ginny's first time witnessing her without one of those oversized hats she typically adorned.
They joined a waiting line to greet the Governor, observing the crowd of fawning wizards. The scene struck Ginny with its absurdity. Guests vied for Cressida Warrington's favor, showering her with extravagant praise and competing for her attention with over-the-top compliments.
"Absolute toadies," Katrina whispered, prompting a suppressed giggle from Ginny.
"Mrs Street-Porter and Miss Weasley, I absolutely must applaud your efforts," praised the Governor as they approached. "You have truly outdone yourselves this year."
She shared a knowing wink with Ginny, who beamed in response.
"See, I told you there was no need for concern. You've done brilliantly," Katrina assured, her tone brimming with approval as she guided Ginny into the ballroom.
Ginny's jaw dropped in awe, her eyes wide with wonder as she took in the grandeur around her, wholly enthralled by the extravagant decorations, the dazzling lights, and the vibrant spectrum of colours. The reality before her surpassed even her wildest expectations.
The Hellebore Ball was the highlight of London's annual gala circuit, with around 400 select guests invited, each contributing the handsome sum of 550 galleons for their tickets. All proceeds were generously donated to the Cressida Children's Foundation, aimed at enhancing magical education for the less privileged.
Each year, the Chimera Palace underwent a metamorphosis aligned to a designated theme. This year, the artists had masterfully recreated the magnificence of the most resplendent Venetian carnivals. The imperative for all guests to don masks imbued the occasion with an aura of intrigue.
"You know, Ginny, tonight might prove quite beneficial for you if you play your cards right," Katrina whispered, her voice tinged with intrigue.
"What do you mean?" Ginny asked, her expression one of curiosity.
"There are influential people here. It's a perfect opportunity to forge some valuable connections," Katrina advised softly, her smile suggesting an unspoken understanding.
"Don't let your status deter you. A beautiful woman is always a beautiful woman, no matter her blood status."
The comment, made in a knowing tone, left Ginny briefly unsettled, the implication of the advice causing her to avert her gaze.
They took their seats at the designated table, draped in dark red satin and adorned with white and silver decorations that reflected the day's theme. Their fellow cabinet colleagues had already taken their seats. Mandy Brocklehurst, visibly surprised by Ginny's transformation, was seated with her partner. Ginny was caught off guard when Cormac McLaggen, who seemed to be on his own, approached her and struck up a conversation.
The festivities officially commenced with an unexpected spectacle. The lights dimmed and glowing rings materialized on the ceiling, slowly descending over the guests. Trapeze artists then captivated the audience with a breathtaking aerial performance, a unique entertainment concept suggested by Katrina.
On the stage, amid this spectacle, another illuminated ring emerged, encircling a man Ginny recognized from the Daily Prophet. The lights blazed back to life, revealing the figure emerging from the ring to the thunderous applause of the captivated audience. The man bowed theatrically.
With a beaming smile that was as familiar as his own name, Gilderoy Lockhart addressed the crowd, "Witches and Wizards of our esteemed community, welcome to the thirty-second Hellebore Ball!"
Famed for his best-selling books detailing his heroic adventures, Gilderoy Lockhart was a household name, adored by many. Ginny recalled the numerous pictures and books of his at the Diggorys' home, where she and Bill had stayed after the Burrow was destroyed. Mrs. Diggory, an ardent devotee of Gilderoy Lockhart's works, would be thrilled to learn that her beloved author was only a room away. Katrina had even managed to secure an autograph from Lockhart for Mrs. Diggory. Ginny couldn't wait to share this exciting news with her.
"Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce our esteemed host, Governor Cressida Warrington." Lockhart continued.
His expression transitioned from charismatic charm to one of respectful deference. He took a dramatic pause, pacing the stage with an exaggerated air of solemnity.
"The chance to meet someone of Cressida Warrington's stature is truly rare. Her unwavering dedication has profoundly touched the lives of countless individuals. A paragon of selflessness, she consistently prioritizes the well-being of others, tirelessly striving to make our world a better place."
Lockhart's effusive praise of Governor Warrington extended well beyond any reasonable length, leaving Ginny with a sense of impatience. Yet, as she glanced around, she noticed most attendees were captivated by his every word.
"Cressida is more than a role model to me; she's a mentor, a confidante. Without her wise counsel, I doubt I'd be the man I am today," he declared grandly.
"He never fails to impress," Katrina murmured to Ginny, taking a sip of her mead with a hint of amusement. "He gives the opening speech every year."
His speech received enthusiastic applause. After his departure, waiters quickly entered the room, offering a selection of delectable dishes prepared by a renowned chef.
Much to Ginny's surprise, she found herself genuinely enjoying the dinner, conversing easily with Katrina, her husband, and even Cormac McLaggen, who was surprisingly approachable. Even, Agbert Ruthdower, the Governor's financial controller, appeared more sociable than he usually did. Only Mandy Brocklehurst remained aloof, occasionally casting disapproving glances in Ginny's direction.
As dinner came to a close, the tables were whisked away, seamlessly transforming the space into a spacious dance floor. As a lively band launched into a spirited tune, the atmosphere shifted from the earlier mellow ambiance to one of pulsating energy.
Ginny was approached several times by men who showered her with compliments. Several were insistent on securing a dance with her. She agreed to a few, more out of courtesy than genuine interest.
With her true identity hidden, she reveled in a newfound sense of empowerment. The usual feelings of inferiority that loomed over her at the Ministry dissipated. The mask offered a welcome veil of anonymity, which she fully intended to exploit.
Her first dance partner, a high-ranking official from the Department of Uniformity of Purity Exemplified, provided little in terms of engaging conversation. The second, a somewhat clumsy Medi-wizard, managed to tread on her toes not once but twice, eliciting a barely concealed grimace from Ginny. The third, a successful businessman, spent the entire five-minute dance boasting of his Erumpent breeding business, claimed to be the most profitable in the country. It left her striving to maintain a polite distance due to his enthusiastic but spittle-laden monologue. At his suggestion of a future meeting, Ginny quickly excused herself with a fabricated reason, weaving through the crowd to distance herself from him.
Although she had contemplated Katrina's advice about networking, these interactions were far from inspiring. It was simply too much to ask. As she made her way through the crowd, heading for the bar and a refreshing drink, Ginny felt a firm grip on her arm. Ready to politely decline, she was instead pulled into a close embrace and came face to face with a man in a black tuxedo. His grey eyes, peering from behind his mask, unmistakably belonged to Draco Malfoy.
Momentarily stunned, she allowed him to guide her into a dance. His presence wasn't entirely unexpected—he was, after all, on the guest list.
"Ginevra, may I have this dance?" he asked, his tone brooking no refusal.
Ginny suddenly felt a wave of unease, in stark contrast to the confident demeanour she had maintained throughout the evening. Tonight, she had garnered considerable attention—receiving admiring, curious, and intrigued glances. A part of her relished in a certain satisfaction—the gratification of a woman pleased by the interest she elicited. But nothing more.
Yet, the gaze of Draco Malfoy evoked a puzzling, indescribable emotion within her. A violent blush crept up her face, and she silently thanked Merlin for the heavy makeup she wore, likely masking her now-scarlet cheeks.
"How did you recognize me?" she asked, managing to regain some composure.
He led her with sweeping movements, perfectly in sync with the quickened rhythm of the music. Unlike her previous partners, Draco proved to be a skilled dancer. The finesse and ease of his movements betrayed his well-honed expertise in dance, a skill expected of someone from his social status.
Predictably, he took the lead. She was well aware how much Draco Malfoy relished being in control. Yet, she surprisingly found herself enjoying his lead, allowing herself to be carried away by his firm grip.
"Given the time we've recently spent together, do you really think a mask could prevent me from recognizing you?" he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
By asking this, Ginny implied more than just the mask. After all, her appearance tonight was markedly different. She briefly pondered his thoughts on her dramatic transformation before shaking her head and dismissing the notion. Why was she suddenly concerned with Draco Malfoy's opinion of her appearance? She attributed this odd preoccupation to the numerous glasses of mead she'd imbibed.
"I'm curious as to why you asked me to dance," she remarked. "Weren't we avoiding public interactions to keep from raising suspicions?"
"The beauty of these masks lies in the fact that, technically, your identity remains unknown to me tonight, as far as I am concerned," he replied, maintaining his sly grin.
He twirled her gracefully, her dress's train swirling around them. Following an elegant turn, he pulled her closer, his grip both firm and reassuring. The scent of his cologne enveloped her senses. They had never been so physically close, and she unexpectedly found herself observing him. Despite their frequent encounters, Ginny had never really taken the time to observe him, often preoccupied with their verbal jousts. Now, much to her own chagrin, she had to admit — Draco Malfoy was undeniably attractive.
Overcome by a sudden wave of panic and confusion, Ginny wondered what was happening to her. Why this sudden discomfort in his presence? Why did her temperature rise as his hand rested at the small of her back? A shiver ran through her.
Draco kept his eyes on her, while she occasionally averted hers, hesitant to engage in the intensity of his stare. A mystery to her, his rare expressions of emotion and stoic demeanour offered little insight into his thoughts. Conversely, Ginny knew he could easily read her, and she felt ambivalent about this fact. She was conscious of the distinct power dynamic between them.
Ginny had always taken pride in maintaining control over her life and actions, even under the regime. Yet, she was growing increasingly weary of feeling subordinate to Draco Malfoy.
Emboldened, Ginny decided it was time for a change. Tonight, she could blend into the crowd and redefine herself, an opportunity she was determined to embrace. After surveying the other dancing couples, she refocused on Draco, meeting his steely gaze.
"I hadn't anticipated such success this evening. Even Governor Warrington offered her congratulations," Ginny said proudly. "What do you think, Draco?"
She deliberately used his first name, curious to gauge his reaction to her informal address. Draco's face remained unreadable, betraying neither displeasure nor approval. Ginny didn't let it bother her. She would coax a genuine reaction out of him before the evening's end. It had now become a personal challenge.
"I'm beginning to understand what people mean," she continued cheerfully. "This event truly offers a great opportunity to establish valuable connections."
Draco didn't reply, but she could see a glimmer in his eyes that suggested he was intrigued.
Ginny continued, "I've just spoken with Rinus van Detta from the Department of Uniformity of Purity Exemplified. He seems well-connected. Perhaps he could assist in expediting my application," she said, pretending to contemplate.
The question was posed innocuously enough.
"Remember your place," Draco cautioned, his tone understatedly stern. "Most here wouldn't publicly associate with someone of lower rank."
He frequently reminded her of her status, almost as though he took pleasure in it. Little did he know, she was unfazed by this long-accepted truth.
"Publicly?" she responded, feigning innocence. "Who said anything about public associations?"
As Draco elegantly dipped her, Ginny followed his lead with ease.
Righting herself, she added, "As you said, discussions of this sort belong in the shadows."
She echoed his earlier words from their dinner at the Imperial Augurey.
"And I'm certain I'll find a way, one way or another," Ginny assured him.
Her charming smile reached a nearby couple before she refocused on Draco.
"It's quite amusing to realize that, irrespective of their rank, they are still just men. And a beautiful woman is always a beautiful woman, irrespective of her blood status," she remarked, echoing Katrina's words from earlier.
The slight change in Draco's expression was a minor triumph for Ginny. She noticed fleeting annoyance flash in his eyes, a hint that he was displeased with losing control of the conversation. Emboldened, she decided to further provoke him.
"Given that our agreement isn't progressing as quickly as I'd like, I've decided to explore other... avenues," Ginny stated, her tone effortlessly casual, fully aware that her words would challenge his authority and desire to control her.
She had come to understand that direct confrontation would not be in her best interest. Draco's grip on her waist tightened, signalling that her words had struck a nerve. Ginny relished the ensuing silence, celebrating her minor victory.
"I hadn't thought of you as that kind of woman, Ginevra," Draco finally said, his voice laden with sarcasm, one eyebrow slightly raised above his mask.
Such a boring, predictable, clichéd response, Ginny thought, annoyed. Lacking stronger arguments, he resorted to questioning her integrity, a common tactic employed by men to undermine women. He knew little of her though. Ginny wasn't there to placate his ego, and his opinions on her character mattered little to her. If he wanted to play such games, she was more than ready to engage.
"You have no idea about the kind of woman I am," she assured him. "And believe me, you would be surprised."
Her response caught him utterly off guard. He'd likely anticipated a flush of embarrassment from her and a hasty denial of his insinuations about her dignity. As if by fate, the band concluded their set at that moment, enabling Ginny to gracefully extricate herself from his grasp, her smile polite but firm, while his expression showed blatant confusion. She pivoted and walked away, a surge of triumph coursing through her. It was a rare occasion when she felt she had the upper hand with Draco Malfoy, and the sensation was deeply gratifying. The image of his baffled face lingered, offering her immense satisfaction.
For the rest of the evening, she intentionally ignored Draco, keenly aware of his intense gaze. She knew he was presumably irked by the turn their conversation had taken.
She chose not to worry about it any longer, immersing herself in the celebration she'd spent so much time preparing. The stage was now graced by a contemporary rock band, an unexpected choice for such an event, yet one that pleasantly surprised her as the crowd danced energetically to the lively tunes.
As the night progressed alcohol flowed liberally, and the initial formality and decorum gradually gave way to a relaxed, carefree atmosphere. Ginny herself felt somewhat unsteady, her vision mildly blurred.
"I need a bit of fresh air," she informed Katrina, who nodded in response before returning to the lively laughter and dancing.
Navigating through the merry, tipsy guests, Ginny felt her feet ache with discomfort, yearning to slip out of her shoes. She headed towards the grand balcony, descending the stairs to find a secluded spot along the wall, out of sight. The cool night breeze gently caressed her face as she sighed in relief.
What would Bill think if he knew where she was? This thought elicited a mischievous, guilty chuckle from her. Even she was surprised by how much she was enjoying herself. Who would've guessed she could relax among those who partly contributed to her oppression? Ordinarily, she would feel guilty and as though she was betraying her principles. However, tonight, none of that mattered.
The sound of approaching footsteps was accompanied by a heady, pleasant scent. Without opening her eyes, Ginny knew who it was. When she did open them, meeting Draco Malfoy's gaze, it took every ounce of her self-control to suppress a mocking grin.
It didn't surprise her that he sought her out again following their exchange on the dance floor—an exchange he clearly hadn't relished ending as it did. Draco Malfoy was someone who thrived on exerting control over others. He probably couldn't bear the thought that a woman he considered beneath him had left him speechless.
"You know, for someone who claims to be so repelled by people of my standing, you don't seem overly bothered about being seen in my company," she remarked, her voice laced with amusement.
"Let's not misunderstand my intentions, Ginevra," he drawled.
"I wouldn't dare assume to understand them," Ginny retorted. "After all, I'm merely a pawn in your grand chess game, am I not?"
Her curiosity was piqued about why he was so intent on gathering information about Governor Warrington, though she knew he'd never reveal his true motives to her. Her response seemed to amuse him.
"Perhaps it's more accurate to say you're a Rook," he amended.
"I'm not versed in chess, so if you wouldn't mind clarifying," she admitted, somewhat sheepishly.
"Pawns are minor pieces. Rooks, on the other hand, are significant," Draco explained, as if simplifying for a child.
"So, should I take that as a compliment? It implies I'm a key player in your scheme," she observed, raising an eyebrow.
"One could interpret it that way," he finally conceded.
This time, his gaze held a renewed intrigue—the kind that comes from a man who appreciates what he sees before him. Initially, Ginny was taken aback. However, she soon recognized a sense of empowerment within herself. The evening had taught her that embracing her femininity afforded her a certain influence, despite her seemingly lower standing. The confidence she exuded seemed to resonate with the men around her.
Even Draco Malfoy appeared unusually captivated, a marked departure from his usual stoic demeanor. It seemed as though he had realized that Ginny could be of interest, perhaps even alluring, to other men who might also be positioned to support her. This shift was invigorating. Ginny had always loathed the notion of having to grovel for anything from him. Now, it seemed the tables were starting to turn.
"Yet earlier, you didn't seem to have much regard for me," she noted, her voice tinged with feigned indignation as she crossed her arms.
He quirked an eyebrow, feigning ignorance.
"Your insinuations about my character," she clarified, shooting him a piercing look that indicated she was onto his tactics. "It's rather low of you to insinuate that I lack respectability, that I'm devoid of values and would stoop to anything."
"That's not what I meant," he countered calmly.
"Oh, really?" Ginny replied, her voice heavy with sarcasm. "Then do enlighten me. What exactly did you mean?"
"You don't seem like the type who would manipulate others for personal gain," Draco remarked, smirking.
Ginny knew he wasn't being truthful. On the dance floor, his intention had been to demean her; of that, she had no doubt. Yet, the fact that he was attempting to reframe his words brought a measure of satisfaction. It suggested he harbored a degree of respect for her, steering clear of outright disparagement. Considering his usual demeanor, this was noteworthy.
"Despite the noble front you put up, I've realized tonight you're not as virtuous as you pretend," he commented with a hint of appreciation.
Ginny was caught off guard by his words. She noticed he had edged closer during their exchange, leaving only a small space between them.
"I can see you have ambitions, aspiring to far more than you let on," he continued, his voice lowering.
Ginny felt the urge to deny his accusation, to assert he was entirely mistaken, yet she remained silent, momentarily immobilized by his proximity. Instinctively, she had retreated until her back was against the wall.
"You're after the taste of power and its benefits. That's why you took up my deal. You're in pursuit of something beyond your current life," he asserted, edging closer.
He resembled a predator homing in on its prey.
"Isn't that so, Ginevra?" Draco pressed. "Admit it."
As he leaned in to utter these words, Ginny stood frozen, her inner turmoil resurfacing. He was so close now that her mind couldn't help but entertain the wild, impossible thought that he might intend to kiss her.
His eyes locked with hers, her pulse quickened, and she found herself wondering whether she would resist if he made a move. Whether it was the surreal, exhilarating atmosphere of the ball or the influence of the alcohol, she realized she probably wouldn't resist. At that moment, there was an inexplicable, insane, incomprehensible longing to feel his lips against hers.
Draco's gaze remained unflinching, his grey eyes fixated on her with compelling intensity. He was now so close that Ginny harbored no doubts about his intentions.
A sudden crackling noise startled Ginny, igniting a wave of panic. Anxious about the possibility of being discovered in such a compromising situation with Draco Malfoy, she quickly retreated. She glanced toward the source of the noise. Even with her vision somewhat blurred, Ginny instantly recognized Anabel, the staff member she had spoken with earlier. Anabel appeared frozen, clearly taken aback by their presence. She quickly turned and vanished into the night.
"I... I should get back," Ginny stammered to Draco, avoiding his gaze as she hastened away.
The need to escape was overwhelming. Would he have kissed her if they hadn't been interrupted? Probably, she thought, feeling a mix of shock and relief. She silently thanked her lucky stars for the interruption, unwilling to face the implications of that reality.
Ginny traced Anabel's path, leading toward a service entrance. Panting, she lifted the train of her dress to ease her movement, her feet throbbing with pain.
In the dimly lit corridor, she glimpsed Anabel's figure in the distance, vanishing around a corner. Ginny's intoxication rendered the walk seemingly endless. Eventually, she stopped to take off her shoes, sighing in relief when her bare feet touched the cold floor.
"Thank Merlin," she whispered to herself before moving on.
Where had Anabel disappeared to? Ginny pondered as she made another turn. She couldn't understand why she felt the need to justify her encounter with Draco Malfoy in a secluded spot in the garden to a complete stranger. She shook her head, attempting to dispel these thoughts.
Approaching a narrow room, light spilled forth from it. Ginny hesitated, uncertain about whether she was permitted there. If the Aurors in charge of security noticed them and discovered their blood statuses, trouble would be unavoidable. Just before stepping in, Ginny heard a trembling, distressed voice. The person seemed to be in the midst of a panic attack.
"Fight fire with fire... The Phoenix's flame shall set us free..." came the fragmented, anguished cries.
Much of the speech was incomprehensible. Pushing open the creaking door, Ginny saw Anabel clutching something tightly, her eyes shut as if in prayer.
"Are you alright?" Ginny inquired, uncertainty in her voice.
Anabel's eyes snapped open, and she recoiled, visibly panicked. She cast nervous glances around before her gaze fixed on Ginny, transforming into deep hostility and disgust. Ginny was taken aback by the sudden animosity.
"Are you alright?" she tried again, attempting a nervous laugh. "I reckon I've had a bit too much of the mead."
"You don't owe me an explanation," Anabel responded coldly. "Your dealings with those people are none of my concern."
"I'm not sure what you mean," Ginny responded, feeling uneasy.
"So that's your ticket in with them?" Anabel accused, looking at her disdainfully. "I know your kind. You should be ashamed of consorting with the enemy."
Ginny was stunned by the woman's harsh words.
"Consorting with the enemy," she echoed, somewhat dazed.
Anabel advanced toward the door, her gaze heavy with judgment and scorn.
"You're no better than they are," she declared contemptuously before exiting the room.
Ginny remained rooted to the spot for a long time, dumbstruck and overwhelmed. Was she indeed consorting with the enemy?
Hastily, Ginny retraced her steps. Much to her relief, Draco was nowhere in sight when she returned to the outdoor balcony. Slipping back into her high heels, she made her way to the ballroom where the festivities continued unabated. Finding an empty chair, she sank into it, all her enthusiasm for the festivities completely drained. All she longed for was to return home, curl up in her bed, and chastise herself for her actions and thoughts.
An hour later, the evening's host declared it was time to proceed to the gardens for the event's final entertainment. Ginny joined the crowd, albeit lacking in spirit, and stayed back as everyone gathered near the garden walls and the Chimera Palace stairs. A thunderous sound resonated through the sky, and spectacular fireworks erupted, creating a mesmerizing display and culminating in a magnificent close to the evening. Around her, guests voiced their excitement and joy.
Ginny might have joined in this delight if her mind hadn't been preoccupied with troubling thoughts. She lowered her head and her gaze settled on Draco Malfoy, who stood at a distance, not far off. His attention, like that of others, was fixed on the fireworks. What had driven his earlier actions? Had he, too, been caught up in the night's fervour? Or swayed by the alcohol?
As these thoughts circulated in her mind, another figure captured her attention. Anabel emerged from the ballroom, weaving her way through the guests. She was probably there to view the fireworks. Ginny observed something unusual. None of the service staff were outside. She then remembered that they had been explicitly instructed to stay out of sight during the event, except for the dinner service. Anabel shouldn't have been there.
Something about Anabel's demeanour and expression unsettled Ginny. She edged closer, observing Anabel clutching an unidentifiable object in her hands. Ginny watched in shock as the woman tore something away with a swift, forceful motion. A surge of dread overwhelmed her, with Anabel's earlier words resonating in her mind:
Fight fire with fire.
The Phoenix's flame will set us free.
Consorting with the enemy.
Ginny started to run, hoping her fears were unfounded.
Yet, as the fireworks still illuminated the sky, another explosion occurred - an immense, shockingly loud and powerful blast that shook the ground beneath them. The final thing Ginny saw was a blazing inferno erupting from every direction.
BOOM.