When Harry descended the stairs a few hours later, the common room went eerily quiet, making him instantly self-conscious. True, only about a dozen students had chosen to remain at Hogwarts for the holidays. Hence, the noise level in the common room wasn't too terrible, to begin with, but seeing Harry dressed in robes that were more expensive than anything they had ever seen seemed to freeze almost all of them in place. Harry was wearing the black and green robes that Mrs. Malfoy had provided and had shifted his appearance so that his typically long and colorful hair was instead its standard black and slicked back in an elegant yet tasteful way that seemed to make his handsome features more so. All-in-all, Harry looked every inch the heir to a noble house, as he was supposed to.
"Blimey, Potter…" One tall sixth-year said appreciatively, "You clean up good when you want to…"
"Weasley…" Harry sighed in exasperation, making the boy smile sheepishly before returning to his friends.
"Well, look at you, little Harrykins," Fred laughed as he approached his younger brother, "All grown up and attending his first ball. I'm so proud!"
Fred threw himself into his twin's arms and began to sob incoherently, making the common room burst into laughter as Harry swatted his brother's arm in mock annoyance.
"Oh, shut it!" Harry laughed back.
"You really do look amazing, Harry," Hermione said as she began to fiddle with his robes, flattening down the creases as best she could, "I wish I could go with you! This will be a night to remember, I'm sure."
Before Harry could reply, the common room door sprang open, and Professor McGonagall entered. Casting an appreciative eye on Harry, she nodded once before approaching.
"Mr. Weasley, I have come to escort you to the Headmaster's office, Lady Malfoy is waiting for you."
"Guess I'll see you guys later, then," Harry said quickly to his friends and family before leaving. Only Ron seemed wary of Harry's departure, choosing instead of warm wishes like the others, to reply with,
"Be careful; don't let the snakes get to you…"
Rather than reply and likely start another row with his brother, Harry offered a quick nod before following McGonagall out of the portrait hole.
The castle seemed eerily quiet as Harry followed McGonagall down the slowly darkening hallway. After a few moments of silence, Professor McGonagall quietly clears her throat, making Harry turn to her expectantly.
"I must say, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall says warmly, "You look very dashing tonight. Your mother and father would have been so proud of you if they had lived to see you this evening."
Harry quickly swallowed the lump of sadness that suddenly seemed stuck in his throat, blinking away the tears in the corner of his eyes. All Harry could do was nod in gratitude at his Professor's kind words.
"Glad I look the part," Harry mumbled, "Because inside, I'm a nervous wreck…"
Professor McGonagall laughs at that, and her echoing laughter seems to ease some of Harry's nerves as they continue down the darkened hallway toward Dumbledore's office,
"I felt the same way before my first ball," McGonagall responds after a moment of laughter. I spent hours deciding what to wear and how to style my hair, and when I finally finished getting ready, I suddenly started imagining everything that could go wrong and how it most likely would. But do you know what DID happen, Mr. Weasley?"
"No, ma'am,"
"I had a wonderful time," McGonagall replied with a warm smile. I spent ten minutes worrying and the next few hours having the time of my life—just as I'm sure you will."
Harry's nervousness seemed to diminish at McGonagall's words, and he felt braver; true, he could still feel his stomach rolling uncontrollably, but it had lessened by a considerable degree, and judging by Professor McGonagall's approving nod, it was visible as well.
The rest of the walk was done in comfortable conversation as Harry asked the Professor about her own experience at her first ball; despite his nerves, Harry found himself enjoying the mental image of a young Professor McGonagall dancing the night away on the arms of several House Heirs. Before he knew it, the pair arrived at Dumbledore's office. Professor McGonagall politely knocked on the wooden door before it swiftly opened on its own, revealing Lady Malfoy waiting quietly. Dumbledore sat behind his desk with a gentle smile on his weathered face.
"Ah, Harry! Right on time."
Narcissa rose from her chair and looked at Harry approvingly before nodding as though he had passed some of her tests.
"You look very handsome, Mr. Weasley," Narcissa said softly. I have no doubt that you will conduct yourself well tonight."
"Um, thank you, Lady Malfoy," Harry said, performing an awkward bow as she had taught him and making Narcissa laugh lightly.
"Very well done, Mr. Weasley," Narcissa complimented, and Harry was suddenly glad he was bowing as he was blushing like a tomato.
Once he had regained control of himself, Harry slowly rose back up and saw that all three adults were smiling at him approvingly.
"Well then," Narcissa said warmly, extending her arm for Harry to take, "Shall we be off?"
"Enjoy your evening, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore replied jovially as Harry and Narcissa strode toward the fireplace, arm in arm.
"Thank you, sir," Harry had time to say before he was suddenly engulfed in green fire, and the familiar sick spinning sensation of Floo travel enveloped him. Desperate to save himself from losing his lunch, Harry clenched his eyes shut and waited for the feeling to pass, which only seemed to worsen his situation.
When the spinning finally ended, Harry felt Lady Malfoy lightly tug his arm, and he immediately followed her out of the fireplace.
"Announcing, Lady Narcissa Malfoy, Matriarch of House Malfoy," a voice next to Harry shouted, causing him to jump slightly, "And Lord Harry Potter, heir of House Potter!"
Slowly opening his eyes, Harry had to fight to keep his jaw from dropping in absolute shock; the pair had been transported to an enormous ballroom that could have easily fit the entire Burrow within its halls and still had room. Above Harry, a magnificent chandelier made of what appeared to be millions of tiny crystals hung, lit by hundreds of candles, gave the hall a warm feeling. The ball seemed to have already started some time ago as Harry caught sight of hundreds of guests, all dressed in very expensive-looking robes, all milling about enjoying the food and drink being provided by a retinue of House Elves, all dressed in clean black and green tea cozies.
Not far away, a group of musicians were playing a slow ballad as dozens of guests danced across the floor in a way that made Harry suddenly nervous. How was he supposed to come anywhere close to dancing like that! Narcissa had taken great pains to teach him to dance, but even so, Harry suddenly had very strong doubts about his ability to not make a fool of himself.
As he followed Narcissa out of the fireplace, Harry was distinctly aware of thousands of eyes upon him and immediately drew himself up as he had been taught. He would not have his first appearance in society be a failure, nor would Harry allow these people to shame him in a way that would ring condemnation upon House Potter or Lady Malfoy's teachings.
"Come, Harry," Narcissa said swiftly, "There are a great many people who you should meet before the night is over. Networking is an essential part of being the Lord of a Noble House."
Internally groaning, Harry allowed himself to be led through the ballroom by Lady Malfoy, occasionally stopping to allow Lady Malfoy to introduce him to some Lord or Lady; very quickly, Harry found himself growing bored with the pomp and theatrics that these 'Nobles' seemed to enjoy so much.
"Harry, allow me to introduce you to Monsieur Henri Delacour and his wife, Lady Apolline Delacour," Narcissa said warmly as she introduced the pair, "Monsieur Delacour is the French Minister of Magic."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Harry replied with a polite bow, which he immediately followed up by taking Lady Delacour's hand and placing a chaste kiss upon it, "And you as well, my lady."
"Such a gentleman," Apolline replied with a gentle smile, "And so handsome as well, I simply must introduce you to my daughters."
As the woman smiled down at Harry, he suddenly felt like a fog had descended upon his mind, and it became challenging to think straight.
Lady Delacour was extraordinarily beautiful. With bright blue eyes that matched her outfit perfectly, she was dressed in a beautiful light blue dress that hugged her graceful figure quite nicely. The dress had also been folded into the shape of a flower on her right shoulder, while her long blonde hair hung over her other shoulder in an elegant braid.
Monsieur Delacour was dressed in black robes with red highlights artistically placed around the neck and wrists. He was a head taller than his wife, with graying hair, yet he had a commanding set of dark brown eyes that showed his strength despite his age.
"Yes, where are your lovely daughters?" Narcissa asked, looking around the ballroom,
"Gabrielle is no doubt looking for where you are hiding the chocolate," Henri chuckled merrily, "And as for Fleur? I'm afraid she was bombarded with requests to dance as soon as we arrived, and I lost sight of her. Like her mother in that regard."
Apolline gave her husband a playful swat on the arm before turning back to the watching pair,
"We simply must introduce you to Fleur! I'm sure that you two will become fast friends!"
"Oh, cease your scheming, my love!" Henri laughed, "This is a party, and Lord Potter is far too young to be involved in whatever you've planned in that beautiful head of yours!"
The group shared a laugh at that, though Harry had no idea what exactly he was laughing at. Everything had become very fuzzy since meeting Lady Delacour, and he was about to say such before Narcissa quickly pulled him away to introduce him to someone else.
The further the pair got from the Delacours, the clearer Harry's head became until he finally gave himself a shake and looked at Narcissa.
"What was that? It felt like my thoughts had gone all sluggish!"
"Ah yes, that." Narcissa replied softly, "The women of the Delacour family are all Veela, which means that they give off an allure that most men if not all, have a hard time fighting against. I thought it best we move along before it became too much for you, though I am proud that you were able to fight it off for so long. Not many can."
Harry looked back one last time and saw that Apolline was staring at him like a predator eyeing prey, causing the boy to shiver slightly before turning his eyes forward again as Narcissa introduced him to another man and woman.
XXXX
"Quite the party, Lord Malfoy," Lord Crabbe exclaimed cheerfully before downing his third glass of scotch. As his eyes landed on Lady Malfoy and her 'guest,' however, his eyes turned cold, "Pity you were forced to invite that son of a mudblood, though."
"Indeed," Lucius sniffed, "My wife is very taken with the boy, unfortunately…"
"Then perhaps, you would do better to take a firmer hand with her," Lord Nott replied contemptuously, "Dragging that brat here and acting as though he belongs. You'd never see such a thing at one of MY balls."
"Such a statement implies that you throw any worth attending," Lucius snarked back, his anger at the insult to his wife making itself known and causing those nearby to flinch from the coldness of his tone.
"I meant no offense," Lord Nott backpedaled. "It is simply bad form to have such an individual as Lord Potter present here, especially given the fact that he is the one who destroyed our true Lord."
Cries of 'aye' followed, and Lucius felt a black rage descend upon him at the stupidity of his so-called 'friends.'
"Silence yourself!" Lucius snarled, overcome with fury at his fellow lord's stupidity. Or do you want someone to hear your words and arrest you?! I very much doubt that the Imperious defense will work a second time!"
The group surrounding Lucius instantly fell silent at the Malfoy Patriarch's words. Lucius quickly downed his glass to settle his nerves, even as his eyes flew across the room to see if anyone had been listening.
"If anyone had heard what you just said," Lucius drawled with barely suppressed anger. We would have all found ourselves in a Ministry cell, regardless of our wealth. Considering your son is friends with Lord Potter, I would have thought you understood that the only option we currently have is to pretend to be friendly with the boy as well, no matter what our personal feelings are."
"Friends?" Crabbed repeated in a strangled voice, as though the very words were poison, "With the son of a mudblood?! The one responsible for the defeat of the greatest wizard our world has ever known! Never!"
"I quite agree with Lord Crabbe," Nott sneered. And as to my son's actions, well, what can I say? He gets his rebellious streak from his mother, and it reminds me why I caused her little 'accident' in the first place."
The other men paled slightly at that, and Lucius quickly summoned another House Elf to bring him another drink. It was well known that Lord Nott's wife had been quite stubborn as to her role as Matriarch of House Nott and had on more than one occasion embarrassed her husband by participating in discussions about 'modernizing' the Wizarding World with new ideas that she preached would strengthen their world. She had been quite vocal about such changes right up until she had suffered an accident at her home that left her paralyzed from the waist down.
Since then, it seemed that her fire had gone out, and the few times she had been seen since her accident had shown an entirely different woman who seemed to go along with whatever her husband said. No proof had ever been discovered about how she had fallen down the stairs at her manor nor how magic seemed unable to fix her spine. Still, it was heavily hinted that Lord Nott had been responsible.
"If you'll excuse me, my fellow lords," Lucius replied silkily, "I have other guests to entertain, and the conversation here is making me feel ill."
As Lucius stalked off, he could hear Nott grumbling something to the group. Lucius felt his anger spike once again at the stupidity of those men. How they ever managed to be placed in the house of the cunning while at Hogwarts was beyond him. Lucius' dark thoughts were suddenly dispersed as he caught sight of the Bulgarian Minister of Magic and immediately approached the portly man to offer a greeting.
XXXX
Harry took a deep breath of the night air as he leaned against the stone banister, relishing the silence that came from being outside and away from the constant greetings and compliments. Lady Malfoy had all but forced Harry to meet dozens of different people, who would all "help his social standing in politics, should the day come when he would be interested in such things."
By the time he had managed to escape from Lady Malfoy's clutches, Harry's head was pounding from trying to remember all the faces he had met and the names that belonged to each face. He'd attempted to speak with Draco several times throughout the night. Still, it seemed that Lucius had already warned Draco against such action. Every time Harry approached the boy, Draco would mumble some apology before quickly stepping away to talk to some dignitary, much to Harry's disappointment.
Harry had just closed his eyes against the pounding in his skull when someone coughed politely near him, and he had to fight the urge to groan as he opened his eyes to see who it was,
"Having fun out here?" Rhea Malfoy asked with a smirk.
As Harry took in Rhea, he felt heat rush across his face against his will; Rhea had chosen a gorgeous Slytherin-green dress with one strap over her right shoulder, leaving her left bare. Her long silver-blonde hair was braided elegantly down her back, stopping just above her waist, but her eyes caught Harry's attention the most. Her makeup must have been done by a master in the art, for it neither took away nor added to her beauty but seemed to showcase it, making the girl's eyes explode in color and magnetism in a way that made Harry temporarily speechless.
"Good evening, Lady Malfoy," Harry replied quickly, offering a deep bow to hide his quickly blushing face; for some reason, even his Metamorph abilities were proving useless in this situation.
This seemed to amuse Rhea, for she quickly hid her mouth behind her hand and laughed slightly, which only made Harry's blush worse as her laugh echoed around him like music. Taking a deep breath to center himself, Harry raised himself back up and took Rhea's hand, offering a chaste kiss to her knuckles that made the girl turn slightly pink.
"I must say," Rhea replied after a moment, "You do clean up nicely. One would think you actually belonged here."
"Well, I AM a Lord," Harry replied, "So, I guess I do."
"Oh, please," Rhea scoffed, rolling her eyes. You may be a Lord, but you're nothing like those stuffy nobles in there."
"Am I not?" Harry asked with a smirk, which Rhea quickly copied,
"If you were, I would not be out here talking to you."
"Why are you, then?" Harry asked. I mean, no offense, but you've been born into this. I'm simply trying to learn how to be a part of it for the first time. We're worlds apart, you and me."
"Perhaps," Rhea replied softly, leaning against the stone banister beside Harry, "But you intrigue me in a way that none of those inside ever have."
Silence followed Rhea's answer, and for a few moments, the pair simply stared out into the Malfoy's back garden as pink flamingos lazily pecked the ground.
"Would you like to dance?" Rhea suddenly asked, making Harry choke for a moment,
"D-dance? With you?"
"Yes, with me!" Rhea laughed back, quickly taking Harry's hand and all but pulling the poor boy back into the ballroom. "I know that my mother has been giving you lessons, so come on! It's time to see if you've been paying attention!"
As they stepped onto the dance floor, Harry was distinctly aware that nearly every eye had suddenly turned toward him and Rhea; swallowing nervously, Harry placed his hands respectfully on Rhea's shoulder and waist in a way that would not be taken as 'too personal.'
"Take a breath," Rhea said softly, her warm smile making Harry blush again, "Ignore the crowd and focus on me. There's no one here but us, okay?"
Nodding his head, Harry only had a moment to swallow down his nervousness again before the music began, and suddenly, he was swaying and spinning with Rhea, just as her mother had taught him. The other guests seem to fade away until there's only Harry and Rhea on the dance floor; nothing else seems to matter to Harry in that moment but the music and the beautiful woman he's dancing to it with. To Harry's surprise, the dance seemed to last only moments, and as the music ended and the illusion faded, he finished the dance by slightly dipping Rhea for a moment before pulling her back up as the crowd applauded the pairs' performance. Both were breathing heavily from the exercise they had just completed and blushing heavily for reasons only they could know.
Narcissa was positively beaming as she watched how her daughter looked at Lord Potter, and already she was beginning to make plans in her head. A group of men stared at Harry and Rhea with disgust and open dislike. Still, Narcissa's attention went from the pair to the one man staring at the two angrily, carefully hidden behind his mask that he'd spent years creating; only his eyes showed his true feelings. Lucius Malfoy could see how his daughter was looking at the Potter brat, and it sickened him to his core; he was unable to watch anymore, so he turned away and stormed from the hall. Only his wife saw him leave, and her eyes narrowed angrily as she did so.
Leading Rhea off the dance floor, Harry could see more than one girl preparing to attack him and demand that he dance with them the way he had danced with Rhea. He was already mentally groaning at the prospect of having to dance with so many different partners.
"You're quite the gifted dancer," Rhea complimented softly, "Perhaps later, we can have another."
"I think I'd like that," Harry replied honestly, "I think I'd like that very much, in fact."
With another blush, Rhea excuses herself and disappears through the crowd just as another girl approached Harry and asked for a dance; unable to refuse, Harry politely took the girls hand and lead her out onto the dance floor as another song began.
XXXX
Several hours later, a thoroughly exhausted Harry and a smiling Narcissa Flooed back to Dumbledore's office. Harry's feet were killing him from all the dancing he had endured. One clumsy girl had actually trodden on his feet more than a dozen times before the music finally, and mercifully, ended. He'd only been able to dance with Rhea one more time that evening, but it had made all the others pale in comparison, in Harry's opinion. When the time finally arrived to return to Hogwarts, Harry offered a respectful bow to Rhea while her mother smiled knowingly. Harry had even tried to offer his compliments to Lord Malfoy for inviting the boy, but Lucius had seemingly vanished, much to his wife's annoyance, for some reason that Harry could not explain.
As they stepped into the office, Harry's good mood seemed to disappear in mere moments; he could tell that something was wrong based on the somber looks coming from Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall.
"What happened?" Harry asked in a small voice, already dreading the answer,
"Mr. Weasley…." Dumbledore starts in a sad voice before going silent, seemingly unable to finish his sentence.
Behind him, Harry could feel Lady Malfoy gripping his shoulder in a calming manner as Dumbledore took a deep breath and spoke again.
"There's been another attack… I'm afraid that Ms. Granger has been petrified…"
It was a good thing that Lady Malfoy had her hand on his shoulder, for as Harry heard those words, he suddenly felt like his legs had turned to jelly, and only her hand kept him from collapsing to the floor.
XXXX