A Night At The Opera
A/N: The title is taken from the Queen album of the same name.
***
Most people would have termed the atmosphere in the Magical Opera House of England that was illuminated with a warm golden glow and the soft buzzing of people's voices as pleasant, even relaxing.
Draco did not agree.
He didn't share the more or less apparent anticipation that defined the audience's demeanour, seeing that he had been forced to accompany his mother to this place. Lucius had found it unfit for his wife to go to the opera alone and since he had no intention of subjecting himself to three hours of what he considered an utter waste of time that was, as he put it, an affront to his ears, he had ordered Draco to go instead.
Never mind that I like going to the opera about as much as I like listening to a conversation between house-elves, Draco thought sourly. Even the term 'excruciatingly boring' is inadequate to describe this.
Narcissa, however, was excited or as excited as she ever got. It was always hard to tell with her, seeing that she considered showing emotions as inappropriate for a lady of her rank. However, as a rather frequent visitor of the Magical Opera House and generally a great lover of arts, she was fluent in Italian, the language this particular opus would be sung in.
Draco, on the other hand, had no inkling of Italian whatsoever.
"Opera singing is hard to understand even in one's native language," Draco muttered, annoyed at the prospect of three tedious hours ahead of him. "How the hell am I supposed to follow the plot in Italian?"
"There is not much plot to speak of, Draco," Narcissa replied calmly. "Haven't you read the libretto?"
Draco merely raised an eyebrow. He had come to this place semi-willingly, i.e. sans the Imperius Curse on him. To expect him to waste even more of his valuable time with reading some bloody libretto, bordered on an outrage.
Narcissa knew, of course, what he was thinking and if it hadn't been completely inappropriate, she would probably have smirked, Draco thought disrespectfully. Instead, she merely put a pair of opera glasses in his hand, explaining briefly that he would see the English translation there when the performance started.
Inclining his head in thanks, Draco proceeded to examine the fragile-looking instrument. Soon, he found out that it worked similarly to Omnioculars - you could freeze a scene in the glasses or replay it. Glad that he now had something to occupy himself with, Draco swept his gaze over the audience. The Malfoy Loge was in the first rank on the left because Narcissa preferred it that way. Thus, Draco had a fine view not only of the still curtained stage, but also of most of the visitors.
His eyes behind the opera glasses wandered over the rows of seats in the parterre, detecting several familiar faces, including Blaise Zabini's, who wore a scowl that illustrated his enthusiasm at being there greatly. Apparently, his attendance was no more voluntary than Draco's.
Draco smirked and turned a little, so that he was now facing the seven rows for the standing places. His derisive grin grew even wider as he saw how those epeople were going to spend the next few hours. They were standing closely side by side in the rows almost like soldiers, with virtually no elbow room. Some even had to remain in the gangway!
The box for the knutless, Draco thought, grinning with no trace of sympathy. However, his expression changed radically as he detected an eerily familiar flash of red amidst the colourful crowd of the standing audience.
Could it be? Or were his eyes merely playing a trick on him, as they had so often done ever since his graduation? However, this time his vision wasn't deceiving him.
Virginia.
Draco felt the skin on his arms prickle at the sudden sight of her and at the realization that he would now have three hours to observe her in peace after spending two months correcting the probability of seeing her soon to lower and lower levels.
He had been wrong to dismiss this evening as a waste of time. Somebody out there had clearly noticed his misery and sent this red-haired angel to distract him from the tedium he would have had to endure otherwise.
Draco froze momentarily, replaying the last sentence in his mind. Red-haired angel? The surroundings, permeated by art, were obviously getting to his sanity. Physical attraction was one thing. Poetic crap another. Draco's lips curled in disgust as he reprimanded himself for such a silly behaviour, however, to virtually no effect.
He turned his head away firmly, deciding against his desire that he wouldn't - he would not - look back to Virginia Weasley.
But then again, why not? Draco reasoned with his other self that was trying to maintain Malfoy propriety. She isn't going to notice and Mother isn't either, because she will simply assume that I'm bored and trying to entertain myself by observing others. Nobody will know that it's one person in particular I'll be watching.
"If you have to decide between watching tedium and watching filth, I hope you will choose correctly," his alter-ego told him warningly.
It reminded Draco eerily of his father's voice and therefore caused him to grit his teeth and tell himself sternly to quit being so immature and hormone-driven. This girl was raising his heartbeat rate and adrenaline level only because he let her. He could stop this nonsense anytime he chose to do so, and he most definitely wouldn't look back to the standing ranks.
Draco's resolution lasted for three minutes approximately. The instant the curtains were drawn back from the stage, his eyes flickered back to her.
Her dark eyes were fixed on the stage that depicted a small, dilapidated appartment where three men were present. Draco cursed the fact that the lights had gone out because now he couldn't make out her facial expressions very well. Fortunately, his eyesight was good and now even enhanced by the opera glasses. He could see that her eyes reflected the little light that was coming from the stage, making them glitter. Together with the faint smile smile that was tugging at her lips at the sight of the performance, they made Draco's entrails turn to liquid. Frowning, he checked himself, tearing his eyes away from her by force for an instant to determine just what exactly was happening to him. Such a strong reaction at the mere sight of somebody was definitely not normal, not by his standards, anyway.
He had, after a few months of sneaking secretive glances at her in school, half-accepted the uncomfortable truth that he might be somehow attracted to her, even if the fact that she was a Gryffindor and a Weasley hadn't ceased to disgust him and thus prevented him from pursuing any further actions. He had a reputation to uphold, after all, and the thought of what his parents would do to him if they found out he had sullied the noble name of Malfoy by maintaining a sordid affair with a Weasley had discouraged him thoroughly. But of course all the Malfoy revenge schemes were purely hypothetical, since nothing had happened anyway.
Thoughts didn't count and neither did dreams, right?
However, this sounded lame even to Draco's own ears. He threw a quick glance at Virginia and noticed that the smile that had been only tugging at the corners of her lips previously, had appeared in full splendour. The events on the stage seemed to be entertaining her, although Draco couldn't imagine why. All he could see there was the decrepit flat with three men singing their heads off. But apparently, the whole melodious gibberish made sense to her.
Or maybe this wreck of a flat provides a homey feeling for her, Draco snickered and congratulated himself on getting on the correct track of thinking again.
That's right. Verbal abuse, albeit silent, was called for now. It would help him take his mind off her image that seemed to be printed on his inner eyelids, her lashes that were framing those incredibly deep brown eyes, one look out of which had the power to wipe every coherent thought out of his brain, her lips that simply invited kissing, her delicate hands with those long slender fingers whose touch he longed to feel on his body and…
The first applause resounded, tearing Draco out of his fantasies and causing him to emit a small noise of displeasure at the rude interruption. He had been on the verge of picturing her body in the most detailled fashion. This particular phase left a lot of room to his imagination as he had never seen her in anything else than school robes. But it didn't matter. Draco had a very lively imagination.
The interruption, however, had a convenient side-effect. A dim glow immersed the opera house and Draco glanced at the standing ranks, eager to see more of her than vague features. The sight that presented itself to him almost made up for the former unwanted 'musical background'.
Seeing that in the proximity of all those people, the air in the standing ranks got stuffy very soon and the temperature rose considerably even despite the Cooling Charms, Virginia had taken off the cape that had been covering her shoulders whose pallor was contrasting against the deep violet colour of her dress. Draco smiled in approval and wondered fleetingly and not without mockery how many days the Weasleys had had to live only on, say, potatoes to be able to pay for a dress like this. But Virginia's next movement put a stop to his derisive thoughts. She had been fanning some air towards herself with her left hand, but this had apparently not been enough. Putting her hands behind her neck, she lifted her hair that was reaching well past her shoulderblades and shook it a little, closing her eyes simultaneously. This relaxed and confident gesture that served to free her from the heat, somehow conveyed this particular sensation to Draco, who, with his eyes fixed firmly behind his opera glasses, realized that beads of sweat were trickling down his spine. Murmuring something about stuffiness and unbearable warmth to Narcissa, he turned on the Cooling Charms that were fortunately a part of the Malfoy Loge, while the opera house went dark again and the second act began.
It was as if the Charms didn't even exist. Draco felt the heat rise, which made him somehow dizzy and disoriented and he was just debating whether he should excuse himself and get a bit of air or not, when a distant sound reached his ears. In his daze, he had forgotten all about his surroundings save the one point in semi-darkness where he could vaguely make out Virginia's features. Now, as his mind snapped back into reality, he realized that the faint noise was the applause marking the end of the second act. Blinking a little at the brevity of this one, Draco wondered how many acts this opera had. Three? Four? Five?
He didn't know how long he would be able to endure this inactivity. Merely watching and not taking any action was not his style. But according to this assertion, he had been behaving out of character for quite some time now.
Three guesses as to why, Draco thought wryly. And the first two don't count.
The heat seemed to have achieved a higher level at the standing ranks as well. In the dim light that illuminated the audience in the short breaks between the acts, Draco could see that Virginia's cheeks were flushed. And again, his faithful observation was rewarded with a perfect view of the part of her bosom that wasn't covered with the dress, her arms and her face.
Now that's the kind of opera I could really get into, Draco mused lazily. Especially if I could decide on the 'finale' myself.
This break seemed to be longer than the first one, as he noticed people filing out of the main hall. Narcissa didn't seem to be inclined to follow suit and so he stayed as well and was glad to see that Virginia also remained where she had been, despite the atrocious temperature and air conditions.
"Do I detect a smile on your face, Draco?" Narcissa cut into his thoughts, making him start slightly. "Well, I did tell you that you would enjoy 'La Bohème' more than 'Rigoletto'," she concluded, pleased with her own cleverness.
"You are absolutely right, Mother," Draco agreed solemnly, stifling a chuckle at her nescience. "The difference is truly astounding."
Narcissa nodded. "Isn't it? What a pity there are going to be only two more acts."
Draco couldn't decide whether he was glad about this or not. Under ordinary circumstances, he would be eager to leave as soon as possible, but in this case…
He wondered briefly if he could get away from Narcissa after the performance to intercept Virginia for a little tete-à-tete? However, it would be highly uncomfortable for him if anyone found out. Moreover, who knew to what ends he might have to go and to what means he would have to resort to convince the girl to do what he wanted? He eyed her critically for a moment. She might not be willing…
Draco flashed a shark's grin at the sight of her, totally unconcerned and unaware of all the nefarious schemes that were running through his mind. He spent the next two acts of the performance alternately debating his next course of action and working out possible problems of each possibility he had and watching Virginia with his opera glasses. Just when he was silently thanking his mother for providing him with them, Virginia's face lit up with a truly dazzling smile that not only turned his viscera into liquid, but made them boil to the point of evaporation. He had a sudden, irrational wish that she would smile like that at him and him only.
But apparently, it had been merely some sappy moment on the stage that had prompted this resplendent smile of hers. Draco sighed inaudibly. Well, you couldn't have everything you wanted, could you? However, he amended himself in the very next moment. He was Draco Malfoy. He could have everything he wanted. And he would, one way or the other.
Buried in his ruminations, Draco realized belatedly that the whole hall had gone deadly quiet. Virginia's face was still and there was a sad air about her. Draco's gaze moved over to the stage where the femal protagonist was lying limp in her bed, her head cradled in the arms or her lover.
Draco shrugged, altogether unmoved. So she had died, big deal. In the opera, the female main character mostly did. Nothing to get worked up about.
The curtain fell and Draco turned his eyes to Virginia instantly, watching her as she applauded enthusiastically along with the other people. How very beautiful she was. Maybe he could…
"Draco," Narcissa interrupted his thoughts impatiently. "Get up, we are leaving. I will not have my robes ruined in the chaos that will ensue in the vestibule soon. Hurry."
Draco, torn out of his sweet surreality, was momentarily near the edge of snapping at his mother. However, it wouldn't pay to get on her wrong side or she might not let him accompany her in the future. And who knew how much he would be missing?
He cast one last, longing glance at Virginia, who was standing there, unique in her radiance, eyes glittering in the dim light that let her hair shine like copper and made her skin glow golden. He had barely any time to store this precious image in a distant corner of his mind where nobody could enter but him until Narcissa's resolve swept him outside.
The night at the opera had come to an end.
***