A/N: Some of my characters DIED. They flat out DIED in Deathly Hallows. This story was already alternate universe, but now it REALLY is alternate universe. This scene is a short one.
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Draco sat dejectedly on the front steps of Malfoy Manor. He was waiting for Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle so they could gatecrash the Weasley's Masquerade party.
Like it would help, Draco thought indignantly.
It had become increasingly clear to him since he became of age over a year ago that the life he was living, his life, was not his. He was a living duplicate of his father, different only in age and first name. He would never get to choose anything for himself: his career (slated in the Ministry), his marriage (doomed to wed Pansy practically since birth), even his house at Hogwarts (brainwashed into Slytherin ways as a child). Rather than fighting his family, Draco found it easier to go along with their ideals. What was the point, after all? He had nothing worth fighting for. He had begun to withdraw over the last year, taken to writing in journals about his dismal views on life. He shut himself in his room almost always, leaving only for the occasional midnight walk around the grounds. He pulled away from his gang, who united under the Malfoy name for both protection and power. He even refused to see his betrothed, as her presence was a frequent reminder that he was in fact doomed to a sham, loveless marriage. Narcissa quite deliberately ignored her son's change in demeanor, satisfying herself and her husband with the excuse that it was simply a pre-wedding compulsory.
Blaise, his best friend since before Hogwarts, had immediately taken a notice to Draco's new less than enthusiastic attitude. He found that he was really not surprised by Draco's behavior, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that his friend would one day wake up from the empty fantasy that was Lucius Malfoy's life. Blaise alone had stood by Draco, never sneering at him to get his act together like Lucius or barraging him with pestering questions like Crabbe and Goyle. Blaise alone had extraordinarily understood.
Until recently Draco thought. Now Blaise was calling Draco out, playing at his pride in order to bring some life back to his friend. It's not going to help he repeated again in his head. He was dead set on remaining miserable, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
"Ready for some mischief, then?" Blaise said conversationally as he plopped down besides Draco on the steps, Crabbe and Goyle lumbering behind him.
"How come I have to be the jester?" whined Crabbe. He looked painfully at the purple and green costume he was wearing. The bells on his three point hat jingled merrily as he cranked his neck around to examine the backside of the costume.
Blaise glanced at him momentarily. "It suits you, believe me," was all he said.
"This isn't going to work," Draco said to Blaise, eyes staring straight ahead into the night sky. "Do you really think that they're not going to notice that Draco Malfoy and gang have just crashed Arthur Weasley's birthday?"
"Ah, I was hoping you'd ask," Blaise responded almost gleefully. With a flick of his wand Crabbe's face had been painted white and a thin green masquerade mask had appeared over his eyes. "You forget, dear Draco, that it is a masquerade party! Everyone will be in costume, so we'll just blend in with the rest of the crowd."
With another flick Goyle, who was dressed darkly as a medieval muggle executioner, had his head completely covered as his hooded tunic came around over his face. He looked immensely foreboding as only his small, beady eyes were visible through the hood.
Blaise did himself next. A fake yet uncannily realistic beard and mustache sprung from his face as he popped an eye patch over his left eye to complete, what Draco thought begrudgingly, was a very convincing pirate disguise.
"As for you," Blaise said standing up to face Draco. "Your hair is a dead give away."
Draco's hand went instantly to his head, his fingers grazing his white-blond hair protectively. Blaise pulled a small vile of dark brown liquid from his pocket.
"I'm not taking any bloody Polyjuice Potion," Draco said heatedly.
Blaise shoved the vile into his hand. "Calm down," he said. "It'll just change your hair color. For a few hours anyway."
Draco glared the vile in his hand, then back at Blaise, apparently unconvinced.
"Come on, Draco. Even if you're wearing a mask, everyone will recognize that Malfoy hair from across the room." Blaise glared back at him contemptuously.
Draco look back to Crabbe and Goyle, who by now were taking turns with Goyle's fake executioner's axe, pretending to decapitate one another and then guffawing heartily.
"Remind me, why are we doing this again?"
"Because you've become about as fun as blast-ended skrewt," Blaise retorted matter-of-factly. "And I've got a good feeling about tonight."
Draco grunted dismissively.
"We are going to scope out the ladies," Blaise said with a grin. "Party recklessly, and get pissed drunk by the end of the night."
"And get back those Weasley's for jinxing us," added Goyle.
"And maybe…we'll even find you a gorgeous witch so you can cheer up already."
"Why don't we just hit him with a Cheering Charm?" Crabbe asked the others.
"Just try it," Draco spat and he turned to give his friend a very dirty look.
"That'll be plan B," Blaise said pointedly. "Well?"
Draco shrugged and uncorked the vile. "Life can't get any worse," he muttered as he tipped the glass lip of the vile to his own and drank the murky potion. It tasted bitter and oily and he sputtered slightly as it went down his throat.
Nearly instantly he felt heat atop his head. Transfiguring a fallen leaf into a mirror, he was shocked to see his own reflection. His own pale face and gray eyes stared back at him just the same as ever, yet his hair and eyebrows had turned black. It was strange.
"You don't look like a Malfoy anymore," Blaise said gleefully as he clapped Draco on the back. "Now let's go already! The night is young!" And with that he set off down the path toward the manor gates. Goyle and Crabbe followed as always, Goyle hitting Crabbe from behind with his long axe as they walked. Crabbe kept looked behind himself, oblivious to where the annoying strike was coming from.
Draco looked at his friends, then back at himself in the mirror. Maybe tonight, he thought, he wasn't a Malfoy.
"Get your arse over here, Draco!" called Blaise from down the path. The gang had stopped halfway to wait for him.
Draco looked back at his reflection and grinned. "Coming!" he shouted after them and took off down the steps of the manor to meet them.
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