Blue-Eyed Angel
Chapter Eighteen
Reamann had spent all of Sunday at the Ministry working, reviewing files, meeting with Aurors, "translating" Muggle statements, and visiting St. Mungo's trying to talk to the most recent victim. That was no use, it was all no good. The man was insane and content to try and catch the "pretty colored balloons" in the room that weren't really there.
He felt guilty about spending the day at work, a day he normally had off, but Ginny had found ways of amusing herself. She and Hermione had gone out in the chaos for some last-minute Christmas shopping and a "girls' day out." He wouldn't be caught dead near a department store the day before Christmas Eve, but what could he say? Girls were mental.
Ginny had come home excited, but seemingly very distant. She had snuggled with him the whole night so he assumed she was no longer mad at him, for whatever reason she had been mad at him in the first place, but she hadn't gone into any great detail about what she had done with Hermione. She seemed to just want to cuddle and sleep.
She was gone now, off with Hermione and "the wives" to a salon. They were getting their hair and make-up done for the ball. Hermione joked that it would really take them the whole eight hours to get her hair presentable, and Ginny had talked for hours about what colors she should wear that wouldn't clash with her hair and what style she should try that would "flatter her hips".
Things were so much simpler for the men.
"Do these dress robes make me look fat?" Ron asked, holding his arms out, as Harry, Neville, Reamann, and Fred all laughed. They were in the back of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, away from the rest of the customers. There were fringe benefits to being "celebrities", they were taken aside and allowed to do things in private rather than deal with the hustle and bustle of the common witch and wizard. Reamann got a free ride whenever with the group, his only claim to fame being that he was dating Ginny. He had to admit, he had saved the copy of Witch Weekly that had run a story on him a few years back, about "Ex-Mrs. Potter's Hot New Man," and he saw his name pop up every now and then in the gossip columns, but he was a far cry from any of the other men he was with in that dressing room.
"You're fat, Ron, those robes can do nothing for that," George mocked, looking rather dapper in his robes. In their thirties, Fred and George could not resist dressing alike. Some twins did their damnedest to be individuals, but Fred and George wanted to be "Fred and George" or "the twins" forever it seemed. Drove their wives nuts.
"This ball is a welcome break from the mess we have been dealing with this past month," Reamann said, everyone agreeing.
"I hate to ask how things are going," Neville said, tugging at his own robes, trying to get them to lay nice while looking at himself in the mirror, him being the fattest one there by far, but unbothered by it. He was round, and balding, but happily married with an exceedingly attractive wife and a few young tots of his own.
"Yeah, well, I would say it's just going bad, as opposed to positively dreadful, but none of you have to work with Sebastian Aurum," Reamann sighed and the group gave a collective groan of sympathy for him.
"That is one right-foul git if I ever saw one," Fred said, using George as his mirror to examine how he looked in his dress robes.
"He's been wheedling his way up through the departments, his eye on the Minister's office for years," Harry said.
"He's not a bad bloke though, right?" Reamann asked, looking to all the men around him.
"Just insufferable," Neville said, turning and limping over to them a little. "He came to the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes a year or so back, acting as though he ran the place just because a small case of his overlapped our jurisdiction," he said, not looking pleased.
"I wouldn't say he is a `bad-guy' but I also wouldn't say he is a `good person'. He seems too much like someone that would do anything to get to the top," Harry said, looking in the mirror and not too happy with his blue robes. He would have preferred green, if they had had any still. Apparently Christmas season put green and red dress robes in short supply, even for Harry Potter.
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Orla Quirke…now Longbottom: Neville's wife, chatted up Angelina Johnson…now Weasley: Fred's wife, while they sat side by side and got their hair done. Ginny and Hermione were together, talking quietly while under magical "hair relaxing" dyers.
"You have yet to give me any sort of details," Hermione said, hers and Ginny's magazines ignored and forgotten on their laps as they twisted to face each other in their seats.
"I really wouldn't know where to begin," Ginny said awkwardly.
"Well, start with what it was like, come on," she said, and Ginny blushed.
"We didn't have sex."
"You didn't?" Hermione said, looking surprised.
"No."
"Why not? You were gone from morning until night. I had run out of things to do," she said, not understanding how they could manage a whole day and not do what seemed so obvious their relationship had meant to entail.
"Well, we went for a drive-"
"You don't drive-"
"He drove-"
"He can drive?"
"If you are going to interrogate me like this through the whole story it's going to take hours and I'd rather not bother," she said and Hermione held up her hands in a silent withdraw. "We drove to Wiltshire," she said and Hermione gasped.
"He took you to Malfoy Manor?" she asked and Ginny blinked at her.
"How did you guess that…?"
"Well, everyone knows the old manor is hidden over there…I couldn't imagine him taking you to see anything else there in the middle of the winter," she said and Ginny just shrugged that off. She had been surprised by their destination, no wonder that had amused Draco so much.
"Well, yes, I saw his home, and met his House-elves."
"House-elves?" Hermione asked, still retaining a soft spot for the little creatures.
"Yeah, you wouldn't have liked'em though; they talked like any other blood supremacist wizard and liked serving."
"I'm sure they only like slavery because they don't know any other kind of life," Hermione said stubbornly.
"Yeah, well, they have served no one for fourteen years, if the idea was going to warm up to them, I think it would have by now," she said and Hermione "humph"ed at that. Hermione had not seen the little elves' reaction to seeing their master; she would not understand what great of a need it apparently was for them to serve. "It was rather enjoyable. We got to talk a lot, and got to know each other…learned some interesting things about each other."
"Like what?" Hermione pressed; interested in this part more than the rest so far, even the elves.
"Well, I learned that he is actually terribly insecure and defensive, not to mention prude, but I think his mum did a lot of that to him," she said and Hermione patted the back of her hand.
"The first thing you got to do with a man is get rid of all the crap his mother did to him," she said and Ginny laughed, because she agreed.
"Well, we talked about why we liked each other and how that all possibly started," she said and Hermione nodded.
"How did it start?"
"You know, admiring from afar, passing fancy, that sort of thing."
"When did it become whatever it is now?"
"I think it was the night before the final battle."
"That's when he kissed you?"
"Yeah."
"This is all just mental," she said with a sigh.
"Hey, you are supposed to be supportive here."
"I'm trying to be, but that doesn't mean I can't maintain my opinion on the matter."
"I think he's charming," Ginny said defensively.
"I think you would alone in that."
"I don't care," Ginny said stubbornly.
"You still going through with this, this, taking Draco to the ball?" she asked, dropping her voice as Orla and Angelina passed.
"He already has a nice set of dress robes," she said, not sure what they looked like but sure that if they had belonged to Draco's father, they were damn spiffy.
"Really? I was under the impression that he would not have been able to afford anything terribly fancy, certainly having difficulty getting his hands on something so late. The boys' last fittings are today and the selection was seriously limited three weeks ago."
"He nicked them from the manor during our visit; they were his father's."
"He took things from the manor?" Hermione asked, looking slightly mortified.
"He was joking to me, saying he was going to bring his House-elf Mickey back with us to live with him and look after his place. He even teasingly offered me one as a Christmas gift, but I didn't see him smuggling any magical creatures back with us. Just the robes…and some weird little stuffed bunny with little felt antlers, a jackalope I guess, he wouldn't talk about. On the drive back, he even denied it existed for a while and tried to convince me that I was mental and that it wasn't sitting on his lap," she said, laughing at the memory of her calling him a prat and pinching him again.
"A bunny you say?" Hermione said with a smirk as though she was containing a laugh.
"Definitely something his mum did to him," Ginny laughed, their conversation having to end there as they were gathered up by the beautician witch and taken to have their hair styled.
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"Dad, why can't we go?" Clarissa whined as she leaned over the arm of the couch, Draco sitting there, making adjustments to his dress robes and easily thwarting his daughter's attempts to guilt him into taking her along at every turn. He was well practiced at this, and could remain firm, just so long as she didn't start crying.
"Do you work for the Ministry of Magic?" he asked smoothly, not looking up from his task.
"No," she pouted.
"Then you can't go," he said and she huffed.
"You have never gone before, why are you suddenly interested this year?" Michelangelo asked, talking to his father like an adult while his sister, less than a year younger, baby-talked her daddy, as always.
"Mr. Rossiter invited me to go because I have been working on the case with him so much lately and wanted to show some gratitude. I would have said no, but the opportunity to be a pain in the Ministry's side while doing nothing technically wrong, is too good an opportunity to pass up."
"But it's Christmas Eve," Clarissa sulked.
"I'm here now aren't I?"
"Yeah, working on your stupid robes."
"Hey, be mad at me, but don't take it out on the robes," Draco said in mock-seriousness, holding his one hand out over the robes in his lap as though protecting and shielding their feelings.
"We still on for Christmas though, right? Not blowing us off for that?" Michelangelo asked, sounding bitter.
"Oh, now that's not fair," Draco said with his own pout then. "Am I not allowed to have a life outside of work and you two?" he asked.
"No," they said in unison and Draco's eyebrows rose in surprise as he looked between them.
"Come on now."
"We want you home with us, not out at this stupid ball," Clarissa moped, leaning over the couch arm again. She thought the idea of a ball was romantic, like in Cinderella, until she was informed that she would not be going. Then it was suddenly the "stupidest thing of all time".
"What will you two do when I start dating?" he asked, and they both made a face.
"You don't date," Clarissa said, sticking her tongue out and scrunching her nose up in a grossed-out expression.
"You never have before," Michelangelo said, making much the same scrunched face (something they learned from their grandmother) but just hugging his knees to his chest as he sat in the squishy brown chair. "And `when' you start, as in you are already planning to?"
"Well, I'm allowed to consider it, aren't I?"
"No," Clarissa said firmly.
"You serious about that?" Michelangelo asked.
"What would you two do if I brought a woman over?" he asked, curious.
"Put a horned toad in her teacup," Clarissa said with an excited smile.
"Oh no you would not," Draco warned, looking at her firmly, already having expressed his firm dislike of the little creatures in the past and always forcing Clarissa to get rid of them when she brought one home. He suspected his cousin was the one supplying her.
"You really would bring a lady into the house?" Michelangelo asked.
"It's not that uncommon for single parents to date you know. It's been a life time, yours actually, since I have had someone. Don't I deserve someone?"
"You have us," Clarissa said, climbing over the couch arm to hug her daddy's right arm, talking in her baby-talk.
"You should do what makes you happy," Michelangelo said, sounding bitter and none-too-keen on the idea of his father dating.
Draco did not feel this was a promising start to introducing Ginny, or any woman for that matter, to the children.
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Ginny stood alone. She had arrived with Reamann to the Remembrance Ball, greeted everyone, gushed with the girls over how fabulous they looked like she had not seen them hours before partially done-up, and was now waiting out in the hallway, everyone else having gone in.
Reamann had showed up as Ginny's date, greeted everyone, and had left Ginny to go pick up Draco. Draco was getting ready on his own and the plan was that Reamann would Apparate directly into Draco's home and bring him back to the Ministry by Side-along. It shouldn't have taken more than a handful of minutes, but Reamann had been gone for nearly ten and Ginny couldn't imagine what was taking them.
What was the holdup?
She could imagine Narcissa giving them a hard time, she not being particularly fond of the Ministry of Magic…and she could imagine Draco was a high-maintenance kind of chap with impeccable standards that would take a little longer to get ready than most…but this waiting was driving her mental.
Was it because she was nervous?
She was certainly excited, but she kept running her hands over her dress robes to make sure they were lying properly, and fussed over her hair far too much. It had spells in place that would last well past midnight that would prevent any mussing, yet she still kept reaching up to touch it, like the curls might fall down any second.
Her back was to the hallway as she faced the doors. Inside everyone could be seen, already socializing and having a good time. She turned when she heard footsteps from behind her in the echoing hall.
Ginny was caught with her mouth hanging open.
Draco stepped up, looking like a vision of what he once was so many years ago…like the portrait she had seen of him in his old home.
His shiny hair was gone, away from his face, slicked back and short, in a style like the one Reamann currently sported, drawing attention to his perfect and high cheekbones. A few extra pounds would have helped his pointed face become striking for more of the right reasons, but he looked far from bad. His eyes sparkled with the knowledge that he looked good and the smirk he wore was reminiscent of him back in Hogwarts when so many thought he was "the-shit" and he new it.
He was clothed in the dress robes he had taken from his home, and he had managed to tailor them to fit just perfectly. The robes were absolutely black in color, and his fair skin looked milky and radiant beside it, not "cold and sickly" like he had complained just the day before. He looked very healthy actually, even the typical dark circles from under his eyes gone.
The outer robe he wore was double-breasted and formfitting from neck to waist, making his body look long and thin...not that it wasn't already. Two rows of black buttons lined the middle of his chest, starting at his throat and ending at his waist. The collar was high, and stiff, closing around this throat and making his neck look long and elegant.
The bottom of his robes fit looser and hung to the floor so that while he was standing it almost appeared that he was in a floor length gown, but when moving it billowed out from the waist where the buttons ended to gap and reveal black trousers with a black satin stripe down the outer edge and highly polished black shoes.
"Wow, Draco, you look," Ginny said, breathless as Draco approched, trying to think of a word that sutibly descibed him. Dapper, chic, suave, classy, dashing, debonair…? She just could not settle on one. Draco smiled at her, seemingly awair of the list of words she was cycling through mentaly, and then whispered into her mind so as to exclude Reamann from their conversation.
"You are going to make me blush, Weasley," he said, getting her to blush then.
Draco grabbed her hand, leaning down while bringing her knuckles to his lips, planting upon them a soft kiss, his eyes locked with hers the whole time.
"You look absolutely stunning, Ginny, I love you in green," he said aloud with a soft voice lower than usual because he was nearly whispering and her blushed doubled, a shiver running up her arm from his touch to shoot down her spine and make her tight in places that were private.
She could see while he was leaning down where all his hair had gone. He had not cut it, and a part of her was relieved. It was pulled back in a loose French braid and it fell down his back like a silken rope to be tied off at the end with a piece of black cord near his bum.
"You look amazing," she finally said as he straightened.
"I know," he smirked and she smiled wide. He was full of the potion Reamann had supplied him with and feeling good, which made him arrogant, which managed to be sexy.
Ginny wanted to pull that smirking prat into a kiss to silence him before he encouraged any more complements out of her that he would overly and thoroughly enjoy too much, but Reamann was there with them. He had entered with Draco but Ginny only just then registering him properly. Draco's entrance had been quite overpowering. A flock of Diricawl could have gone running by, bursting into clouds of feathers and making a ruckus, and she would have missed it entirely. Reamann looked respectable in his own dress robes of a cobalt blue color, but he just could not compete with Malfoy, and Ginny had a feeling he knew this.
"Ginny, you look lovely," he said, Draco stepping back and allowing Reamann to sweep in and plant a kiss on Ginny. It infuriated Draco to have to watch, but he kept his face a cool and pleasant mask. He wasn't Ginny's boyfriend at the moment, Reamann was. He would probably invoke suspicion if he started punching Reamann in the face right then, and more than probably upsetting Ginny greatly, he would likely not be invited into the ball. He had not spent forty minutes on his hair to be turned away at the door.
"Thank you, Reamann, you look quite fashionable yourself," she said, having already seen him and complementing him, but feeling his ego needed a little soothing with Draco there. She smiled, though not in the way Draco had made her smile. It pleased Draco to see and made it worth the effort…and displeasing his children…to see that.
Ginny was in a deep green gown that seemed to shift color slightly given what angle Draco looked at her. It was either a deep blue-green, or a pale spring-green, and every shade in between. It complemented her red hair so nicely that was shining smoothly in perfectly styled curls piled up on her head. A few hung down at varying lengths and two framed her face. Silver wire could be seen wrapped around the back of her head, to cage the curls in a sort of muted cone. He would have liked her better without curls, but they were a different kind of curl his wife had had, far more tame and fake, not wild and unruly, so he supposed he could overlook it.
The dress was strapless so she had a matching shawl thrown over her arms. The bodice was tight, and looked like it restricted her breathing, but it gave her quite the hourglass figure that Draco found hard to rip his eyes away from. The skin of her arms, collarbones, breasts, neck, and her hair, shimmered with what looked like a dusting of some very fine, glittery body powder. It made her, along with her dress, radiant.
Reamann offered Ginny his arm and Draco sort of lingered off to the side.
"Ready?" she asked, looking over at him.
"I don't think I will have as warm of a welcoming in there as I did out here," he said, looking to the doormen that stood vigilant over the scene inside the hall as they waited to check guests upon arriving. There was, understandably, high security at a function like this.
"Don't worry, they won't turn you away, we'll make sure of that," Reamann assured.
"I fear being accepted and having to endure the scene in there more, I think," he said, not positive, but pretty damn sure that no one inside would be happy to see him.
Ginny gripped his hand, just a quick, reassuring squeeze, and walked with Reamann towards the hall. Draco lingered, shifted, and then followed after.
It was time to see if he still had enough Malfoy in him to make this work.
"Ah, Ginny, we noticed you waiting outside and were wondering when you would finally come in," one of the wizards manning the door said with a warm smile, the other greeting Reamann.
"I was just waiting for the last of our party to arrive," she said, smiling back. The wizard's attention redirected to Draco and his smile wilted.
"Malfoy?"
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"I think there is a problem with the doorman," Neville said, holding a wineglass in his good hand, Orla on his bad arm.
Harry looked over to see what Neville was talking about and saw there was some sort of congestion at the door.
"Someone trying to crash?" Ron asked with a squat glass of rum in his hand.
"It's an open invite, I can't imagine," Harry said, already striding over towards the doors, prepared to smooth over whatever problem there was for the sake of saving the evening and keeping things positive.
"I can't imagine what the problem is. I work for the Ministry, this ball is open to any who do, so I should logically be allowed to attend."
Harry froze upon recognizing the disembodied voice.
Pushing through the small gathering of people at the large doors he stood before Draco Malfoy and furrowed his brow.
"Malfoy?" he asked.
"That's right," he said, smiling mischievously.
They made very direct eye contact for a moment and Draco caught a glimpse of what Harry thought of when he first laid eyes on him. He saw an event from Harry's perspective, and that meshed with his own memories of that time, giving him a very interesting and omniscient view of things.
Fleeing the scene that had almost ended disastrously, Harry met up with Draco, far from any prying eyes or eager ears. It was snowy, it was cold, and it was bright.
Harry was behind Draco and gave him a firm shove with his hands in the center of Draco's back. Draco stumbled forward but then regained his footing quickly in the snow, turning on Harry smoothly, his long, loose hair falling in his eyes as he glared.
"What the hell is up? What happened back there?" Harry demanded.
"You couldn't keep your mouth shut for one moment could you, Potter? Had to let your bigheaded inner Gryffindor take over," Draco spat back. Their charade had been working, the Death Eaters had believed Draco was sided with them while Harry and several of the Order tried to infiltrate, only able to get as far as they had because Draco had fed them information about how to get past the Giants (without fighting) that stood guard. It had been working until Harry had apparently lost faith in Draco and tried to be virtuous and take-charge, ruining Draco's carefully thought-out and structured plan.
"You were going along with them, I was worried that…"
"You really don't understand what it means to play a double-agent do you, Potter," he said scathingly.
"It was damn convincing that you would kill…"
"No SHIT it was convincing! But it's not YOU I'm trying to fool, it's everyone else! The Dark Lord is far more experienced in Occlumency than I! I have to keep him out of my mind while playing up to his expectations, otherwise this wouldn't work!" Draco shouted back at him, frustrated and angry. He had barely been able to salvage the situation, and he was still unsure if his cover as a mole was blown or not. Harry didn't seem to grasp the precariousness of the situation or how he had nearly compromised it all and them both with his stunt. Harry did not seem to realize that his actions could lead to him, Draco, getting killed…slowly, and painfully.
"I had to do what I thought I had to."
"Goddamn Gryffindor."
"Corrupt Slytherin," Harry spat back. "You think you're clever? I want to know whose side you are on! You say you are fooling the other side with your `esteemed acting skills,' but I can't help but get this strong impression that their side is not the ONLY side you're fooling."
"You don't trust me," Draco said, not even making it a question. After all he had confessed to Harry that had led him to bring Draco back to the Order's camp over a week before, he still did not trust him? That irked Draco something nasty.
"I have seen you grovel in submission and lie so easily, just to nosh your own aspirations! You have manipulated EVERYONE around me, everyone thinking something different of you. What would you have me think given all that? I don't know when it is you are acting and when you are being honest, or as honest as you ever get! I don't believe you are telling me the truth any more than you are telling it to anyone else!"
"Life is not that black and white, Potter. There is no good and bad, truth or lies, there are shades between, a LOT of grey," Draco growled.
"A lie is a lie, Malfoy, I don't care what kind of spin you try and put on it to convince yourself otherwise."
"I wouldn't expect you to understand."
"Draco, tell me exactly what is going on with you. Just flat out say it again if you must, I just find it hard to believe, you being such an accomplished liar and actor," he said.
"You have never trusted me," he accused.
"I was willing to try."
"And I have been doing all that you asked, at great personal peril, and you seem utterly unappreciative!"
"Because I don't KNOW if the peril you face is from us or them, it all depending on whose side you are on and what side you are fooling," Harry said firmly, glaring at Draco.
Draco was quiet for just a pause and took a deep breath as though to release some tension. Harry just didn't understand.
"A lot has happened in these last few days, Potter."
"I know," Harry said, nodding, ready to be understanding.
"No, you DON'T," he snapped. Harry had no idea all that had happened to him in the last week, that he had lost his father, that he had…nearly given up.
"Then tell me," Harry said smoothly.
Draco was quiet again for a long moment, thinking about all he could tell Harry, choking back tears long before they could surface on his face.
"I don't want to be with the Order anymore," he finally said and Harry leaned back a little, looking at Draco's very serious face.
"What are you saying?" he asked, swallowing hard at what Draco might say.
"No one has ever deserted the Death Eaters and lived to tell about it. Igor Karkaroff made it a whole year before he was murdered. Regulus Black? Barely two DAYS! I have made it a week. How long do you think I can manage to-"
"The Order will protect you, you have to put your trust in them…" Harry attempted before Draco cut him off.
"Put my trust in THEM when they don't even trust ME?" Draco snapped and Harry recoiled a little.
"Nothing is the same anymore for any of us," he said, thinking of his father and poor old Butler Paul.
"I know it isn't," Harry said softly.
"You never knew me, so I wouldn't expect you to understand, but something about me has changed. It is something I can't quite explain myself…but something is just…" -he paused- "not the same," he said, talking softly now.
He was healing, physically, slowly, his mother so upset that she had not allowed the Healer to fully mend his wound. Draco appreciated that now; the pain there of his slowly healing wound as a reminder that he had been weak and that he could not be weak anymore. Suicide was the coward's way out, and he was not a coward…not anymore…not since he had been forced to watch…Butler Paul now gone.
Draco had felt something break inside him having been made to watch that, watch something so terrible. He had fallen to his knees, unable to fight anymore, unable to blink, unable to breathe, just staring at the scene before him. Lord Voldemort had made him watch, wanting to break him, and he had, but not in the way he had anticipated, not in the way he had counted on. Draco knew now, as a result of the Dark Lord's most recent cruelty, that he could not be weak anymore. It was costing him too many people he loved and cared about. He had his mother left, she was all he had in the world now. He had her to worry about still.
He had blamed himself for his father's death, but Butler Paul's life was on the Dark Lord, it was his fault, it was his fault his father was dead too. Draco knew this now, and that gave him the strength he needed now to do what he was about to do, say what he was about to say.
"Draco-"
"I'm THROUGH with this, Potter. I am through with being bullied, and intimidated, and promised things. I'm tired of playing by the rules that the one I'm standing against doesn't even hold to," he said firmly, making a chopping motion with his left hand, ending his train of thought there, using his hand to physically shake the mental images that plagued him. "I'm through with living a life controlled by others, and my only purpose being to please someone else, some sort of despicable, disposable, dismissible servant. I want to please myself, live for MYSELF…to trust my instincts and do what I feel is right."
"I, I understand that, I really do, Draco, but…" Harry tried to argue.
"If I'm not some oppressed supporter of the Dark Lord, I'm some blind follower of the Order. I have gone from fearing and trying to impress one tyrant, to another. I realized some days ago that I have no more options now than I did then. I'm still stuck in the middle of this mess that I did not even start and was no part of."
"We are ALL trapped in the middle of this Draco! And the Order is not a tyran-"
"Please spare me, Potter!" Draco snapped, narrowing his eyes, looking angry again. "It's time that I try to do the impossible, to do something that I have been raised and taught to never attempt in my life. I'm going to do things MY way," he said, holding himself tall and firm as his words. He had been raised to believe all the Dark Lord believed, because of some vow. He had been taught to shun any personal opinions or feelings that contradicted such teachings, and he had done so without question. He felt stupid and gullible, and blind because of that. He didn't even know who he was…but he intended to find out.
"So what is it you want to do then Draco? What is it? You don't want to support the Dark Lord, you don't want to be a part of the Order, what's left? You can't flee and hide from all this. The Dark Lord WILL find you," Harry said fiercely while trying to understand this new Draco.
Harry didn't try and fool himself into believing he knew Draco well before, but something in him had changed, he could tell, and it scared him just a little.
"I'm through with being oppressed, through with being told there are limits to what I can do. I know I can't do everything, but how can I know what I AM capable of until I try?" he said and Harry looked at him, a little worried about what he was hearing. "I have lived too long afraid, too long fearing the disappointment of one person or another and suffering the punishments of my failures because NO ONE can possibly live up to their high demands. Living up to everyone else's expectations of me has worn me down and burned me out. I have to stand now," he said.
Harry swallowed.
"You don't want to destroy the Dark Lord, you want to overthrow him," he said, looking at Draco's fierce eyes with shock. What was Draco saying?
Draco seemed to think on Harry's words, like in his own mind he hadn't quite summed it up like that before, but he apparently liked the sound of that.
"He is no greater than I or any wizard really, and he is weak. He whittled himself down already for us with all his damn Horcruxes and fears death more than anything. He is talented, and intelligent, but he is nothing you or I couldn't be. All that sets him apart and makes him so frightening is the fact that he is willing to do anything, whatever it takes," he said, his eyes on that fine edge of urging Harry to understand, and crazed madness.
"Malfoy, you can't be serious," Harry said.
"Think on it, Potter. You are greater than him…THAT is why he fears you. The Ministry already holds you at such high regard and esteem, they would rollover and play dead if you were to show any desire to become a leader. You are no more powerful than I, but I am cunning, and able and willing to do what you are not…" he said and Harry paled. "Together, we could do what no other could."
"Are you making me an offer, Malfoy?"
Draco just looked at him intently.
"I admit that we are talented beyond our years, but are you listening to yourself? You are having delusions of grandeur, Malfoy! This is mental!"
"Join me in this, Potter," Draco said calmly, ignoring Harry's words, holding out his hand to him like he had back in their first year, when he had extended Harry his friendship, and some days ago when Harry had extended Draco his `trust.' "There would be no limit to what we could do once the Dark Lord is gone. Together we would be unrestricted, unlimited, unstoppable; the greatest team since the Founders of Hogwarts," he said.
Harry had turned Draco away those years ago with his offer of friendship, but Draco could see in Harry's eyes that he was considering what he had said, truly mulling around his words.
Harry could not deny what Draco had told him as being true. Yes, they were powerful, and if they managed to vanquish the Dark Lord, little could stop them from ruling over the wizarding world…the Ministry would let him, and Draco was crafty enough to wheedle his way up to the top, he had no doubt about that.
"The people would be looking to a leader after the Dark Lord is gone, and if we were to work together," Harry said slowly, still thinking.
The Ministry was a joke at the moment. He did not want to be the Ministry's "golden boy" because he did not stand for all they did…but what if he could take over, set things right? He was not sure he could trust anyone else to do it, the last two Ministers of Magic greatly disappointing him.
"If we stood together, there would be no fight we could not win, no desire we would not see a reality! They would never bring us down," Draco urged.
Harry looked at Draco and considered his words, what he was offering.
Something about what he was saying seemed different than the typical malevolent plot to take over the world to Harry. There was no maniacal laughing on Draco's part; there was just this dark bitterness there, like Draco felt that it was this or nothing else. That sort of one-track mind was never a good sign when it came to one's personal mental stability and reliability.
Harry wished he could get Draco to understand that the Order was the best option for him, that they would see it all right in the end.
"We would be unstoppable," Harry said, looking down at Draco's hand, Draco's face smiling in a way that sealed it for him.
Draco knew what the Dark Lord was doing was wrong, and that was a good start, but Draco was hurt, beaten like a dog by anyone and everyone that held themselves to be higher than him, and he had finally snapped and would not take it anymore.
Unfortunately, Draco was now insane.
Harry had heard words like his before, seen his very attitude before. When he was twelve and had met the sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle Horcrux.
Draco sounded like the young Voldemort.
That was enough to snap him out of his consideration of Draco's offer and feel guilt and shame for having just briefly been seduced himself by the idea. He wanted to set the Ministry right, but he couldn't stand by Draco in this, he couldn't do it by the means Draco was proposing.
"But I can't," he said, stepping back though there had already been a space between them. He remembered back to his first year at Hogwarts, when he had met Voldemort for the first time. He had told Harry that together they could do extraordinary things…together they would be unstoppable. Somehow, Draco's words now struck too similar a cord for Harry to bite.
"What?" Draco said, not getting the answer he had expected and looking a little surprised, a little hurt, and a little angry. Harry could see Draco's mind working through his eyes and it looked like he was closing himself off rapidly in a way that unnerved Harry vastly. The way Draco's mind worked unnerved him vastly.
"Call it me being a Gryffindor and you a Slytherin, but this is not RIGHT," Harry said, shaking his head.
"Potter-"
"I cannot become what I have been fighting so hard against all these years. How can YOU want to be what has oppressed you, your family, for so long? You sound like Voldemort, like Greyback, like any other misguided Dark Wizard!"
"So you are to stand against me," Draco said darkly, not even acknowledging Harry's accusations and statements.
"You are no better than him if you were to take his place."
"I had thought that this would appeal to you, Potter…that you would UNDERSTAND. What better way to prevent another `Dark Lord' from ever surfacing and trying to take control than to already have a leader in place, a REAL leader, not some sorry excuse for a Minister that the people elected based on false promises and assurances in some joke of a popularity contest. Someone that the world would fear just enough to follow, but not so much that the people could not appreciate all that would be done for them?"
"It's not right," he said.
"Like your precious Ministry has done nothing but `right,' Potter? This world is a mess, and simply killing the Dark Lord with not amend that."
"There are other ways…"
"You are lying to yourself if you believe that. The Ministry will never be all that we could be."
"You would pursue this then," Harry said, realizing that Draco was not being swayed; he was holding strong to his ideals, his delusions, even if he, Harry, would not be joining him in it.
Draco just tilted his chin down a fraction, not quite a nod, but his eyes saying enough while wind whipped his shoulder-length hair around in his face.
"I can't say that I'm not mildly disappointed in you, yet somehow not surprised by this," Harry said, knowing that Draco was not on the side of the Order, making him an enemy at that point. They both might have been after the Dark Lord, but they had very different reasons now.
Draco stepped back, turned, and walked for a moment; he turned back to Harry in a swirl of robes and pointed at him steadily.
"If I'm to fly solo on this, Potter," he shouted back, "at least I know that I'm flying FREE, not a part of someone else's plans, someone else's desires, someone ELSE'S dream! You do not understand what that means, what that means to me! You have never been in the position I am in, or had things expected of you that I have had. You have had your troubles, but they are VASTLY different and incomparable to my own. You lost your family as an infant, I have lost mine right before my eyes!" he said.
"Draco," Harry pleaded, in one last attempt to help Draco see the insanity of his words. "You have had it harder than I ever gave you credit for in the past, and I'm sorry, but this, this is MADNESS," he said and Draco laughed bitterly. Potter had no idea, no idea just what he had been through, all that helping him and serving the Order of the Phoenix had cost him.
"I will match you, Potter, and the Dark Lord, at the very LEAST in infamy if not renown! They will talk about how I not only defied the Dark Lord, and the Ministry, but the Order and the great Harry Potter as well!" he said, pointing at Harry again.
Harry had to admit, looking into Draco's eyes so full of hurt and conviction, that he was more than a little afraid of him, maybe more than he was of the Dark Lord.
He feared what the Dark Lord would do, but he feared more what Draco might do. The Dark Lord was predictable, he knew what he wanted, and he made that known to all. Not knowing exactly what to expect from Draco was…alarming.
"Nobody in ALL the world, no witch or wizard that is now or ever was, will ever bring me down again!" Draco shouted, voice nearly cracking, his face angry but eyes wounded and almost lost despite his obvious conviction in his words.
Harry stared, and could not help but think of their school motto: "Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus," which meant "Never tickle a sleeping Dragon." It made him think of Draco, and for more than just that his name was in it. He felt that was what had happened. All these years Draco had been "sleeping." This Draco he saw before him, whatever fire was lit in him now, had been dormant, and he had been "tickled" in just the right way, abused just one too many times, and it had awakened him.
"Draco."
"Nobody is going to oppress or stop me, Potter, NOBODY," he said, turning away at that point and stalking off.
He did not attack Harry, and Harry did not attack him. Harry should have drawn his wand to stop Draco now, while he had the chance, but he could not. Draco had offered him no violence…not yet anyways.
Harry was left there, still unsure what he could expect from the other wizard.
He was not sure he liked this new Draco much. The old had been unkind, the next had been piteous, but this last was just…terrifying.
He could not count on him helping the Order, but would he fight against them? He certainly wouldn't fight for the Dark Lord…
But would he stand alone? Him against the whole world?
"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, trying hard not to think of that time.
"Well, as I just got through explaining to this lout here, I feel it is fairly obvious the purpose of my being dressed and present; I am here to attend the ball," Draco replied, holding himself very tall, and full of self-satisfaction. He looked right at Harry, knowing exactly what Harry thought of when he first laid eyes on him, and felt indignation that, of all the times they had spoken, all the situations they had been in and shared, that was what he thought of first. It was a little insulting and he felt like it belittled all he had done for Harry. Ginny invoked memories of the final battle and her saving his life. Harry did not think of him saving his life by betraying the Dark Lord in that final turn and throwing him his wand, disarming himself so that Harry could inevitably defeat the dark wizard…he thought instead of a far less flattering time. Draco was mildly hurt but somehow not surprised either.
"You want to attend the ball?" Harry asked, surprised.
"You do catch on fast," Draco drawled, Ginny jumping in and cutting him off before Draco started insulting Harry as harshly as he had the doorman.
"Reamann invited him. Can you please make this mess go away so we can enjoy the evening?" she asked, pleading to Harry's sense of fairness and diplomacy.
Harry looked at Draco, who had certainly done himself up nice for the ball, and to Reamann who was looking a little meek with discomfort at being fingered as the one to blame for the whole mess, and sighed.
"Alright," he said, looking over at the wizards as Ginny's face broke into a smile.
"Just let him in," he said.
"Harry?" the wizard asked.
"He won't start anything, will you?" Harry said, that more of a warning than a question directed at Draco.
"Certainly not," Draco said crisply, smirking and getting Harry to glare at him for a moment.
"Just let him in," he said, turning and walking away at that point so as not to allow anyone to argue with him, not that they would anyways.
"Harry, Harry," Ginny called softly, running up behind him to grab his arm. "Thank you," she said.
"Why did you bring him here?" he asked suddenly, no pretenses there.
"He has every right to be here, he deserves to be here," she said firmly.
"I can't help but feel this sudden interest you have developed for him will cause troubles for you and Reamann," Harry said darkly and Ginny narrowed her eyes at him.
"Don't you dare," she warned.
"Was it you, or Reamann that invited him?"
"Reamann," Ginny said firmly.
"He didn't mention it to me."
"Because he was worried, and justifiably so it seems, that you would object and he didn't want everyone to get upset over something that really is nothing."
"Draco and you…it's nothing."
"Don't start this again," Ginny warned, not wanting to get into this particular row with Harry again, not at the Remembrance Ball, not on Christmas Eve, not ever again.
"Well, then you shouldn't have fucked him then!" Harry hissed and Ginny looked taken aback, placing her hand over her heart before her rage set in.
"Draco and I have never had sex, Harry."
"That was not the way things seemed when I saw you two that night," Harry said, talking about "that night" again.
"That was a kiss, and you know it."
"A kiss? Ginny, you and I had kissed before, and that was done vertically. Even heavy snogging between you and me had not gone as far as that," he spat, the mental image of Draco atop of Ginny, kissing and groping so passionately forever burned into his mind. "It looked like you two were having sex through your clothing," he seethed.
"We did not have sex! Is that what has bothered you all these years? You thought we had?"
"What reason did I have to think otherwise?"
"Reason being that I am more respectable than that?" she said, not admitting to Harry that she would have probably had sex with Draco if he had continued. That was not the point; Harry was being unreasonable.
"So, you're sticking to the story that you never shagged him?"
"It is not a story, Harry; I never had sex with him! It was just a kiss…it was just kissing!"
"Does Reamann know about you and Draco kissing?"
"No, and don't you dare tell him! Not that it is any big deal, but it is none of his damn business what I did thirteen years ago. I think you need to get over it, get over the past, and get over yourself," she said, fighting the urge to slap Harry across the face right then before she stormed off. A few people looked over at her and at Harry, as she walked away, ready to gossip about what the row could have possibly been about.
So that was it. Harry thought that, after he had seen her and Draco on the ground, kissing, that they had had sex. That was why he had been so upset. She supposed that made sense…more sense to be upset over sex than kissing that is…but the whole thing was ludicrous from the start!
He made it sound like she and Draco were still in the throws of passion, and it angered Ginny to no end that she couldn't deny that. Harry thought she still had feelings for Draco, that she had feelings for him in the first place, and damn him, he was right.
--------------------
"You look upset, Ginny," Reamann said, wrapping his arms around Ginny in a gentle hug after she joined him and Draco.
"I just got through talking, no, fighting with Harry," she said and Reamann looked pained and fought not to glance at Draco, assuming the man to be the reason behind the fight but thinking it had to do with Draco being at the ball, not some past history they all shared that he was unaware of.
"I'm sorry," Draco said softly.
"No, it is not your fault, you did nothing wrong. Harry is just being a pigheaded troll," she grumbled and Draco smiled.
"Let me get you something to drink," Reamann offered.
"Something sweet?" she asked, and he kissed her forehead.
"Sure thing," he said, making his way over to the refreshments, leaving Draco alone with Ginny.
"The fight was about me," he said, not making it a question. Ginny nodded. "Anything new, or just the same old Harry-the-self-righteous-prat not liking or trusting me," he asked. He certainly didn't sound bitter…much.
"Harry thinks we've had sex," she said, crossing her arms in a huff as she glared at Harry who was across the room and talking to her brother.
"What? He suspects we are seeing each other?" Draco asked, a little surprised, a little panicked, and a little impressed that Harry was so intuitive.
"No, no, he thinks we had sex that night," she said and Draco blinked at her.
"The night before the final battle?" he asked. It seemed her and Harry had already dubbed the night she and Draco had kissed as "that night" and Draco was just becoming familiar with that, so a little explanation was needed.
"He saw us, remember? He had left the Order's camp to go look for me, not wanting to believe Hermione when she said I had -must have- died when I went over the edge, when you had turned traitor on us. I guess he had not known you were with Hermione and me that day and had flipped out upon learning that. I guess he never really had trusted you," she said and Draco cleared his throat uncomfortably, having just been reminded at the door by Harry of the scene that had unfolded the day before that. He supposed he had given Harry just reason not to trust him at that point…
"He stumbled on us together and, honestly, I really think I broke his heart…" she said, sounding depressed. Draco, who was standing right up next to Ginny, facing the floor, just brushed his knuckles across her hip, unable to show any sort of comforting affection in public. "He saw us, snogging like mad, and he turned away…left. I guess he assumed you and I…did it that night," she said with a sigh, dropping her arms so she could put her hand at her side. While standing so close her full gown's green skirt and his dress robes blocked from view her gripping his hand.
"I knew he had seen us kiss, he had told me as much and he had brought it up in arguments in the past, but I had not realized until just now that what bothered him so was that he thought you had betrayed us all, faked my death, and then had your way with me off in secret. I guess that moment, that night, when he saw us, me not dead and you…yeah…he thought I had turned traitor too. After that, once he realized you and I hadn't betrayed the Order at all," she said and he shifted uncomfortably, "he just believed I had rejected him to have you that one night."
"Well, I am an offer pretty hard to pass up," he smirked and Ginny fought not to pinch him. "So, Potter thinks we shagged and is wounded over it," he said, hoping to sum it all up.
"Yeah," she said softly.
"Excellent," he said with a smile over in Harry's direction and Ginny looked up at him.
"Draco."
"I think we need to amend this little problem," he said, turning to her after releasing her hand so his back was to the dance floor now.
"I don't think you talking to Harry will really help. He will believe what he will, he is stubborn like that and once he has made up his mind and believes something is true no one can sway him, no matter how much evidence you throw at him," she said, sounding tired.
"No, no, not that, though I know that to be true," he said and she blinked up at him. "Potter seems to believe we had sex, but we haven't. This is a problem we need to address and amend. I'm thinking until we are dizzy and weak in the knees and unable to amend any more," he smirked and Ginny's mouth parted in shock before converting into an open-mouthed grin.
"You are terrible," she laughed.
"And horny, you game?"
"We can't…"
"Have other plans tonight? With Reamann possibly?" he asked, a little bitter.
"Draco," she said, frowning up at him. "There is no way on Christmas Eve I could possibly…"
"Hey you two," Reamann said, showing up again suddenly and stopping their conversation there. "Couldn't possibly do what?" he asked, having only caught the very end of their conversation, looking between them, a drink in each hand.
"Find a last minute gift," Draco said, and Reamann handed Ginny the drink he had fetched for her.
"Sorry mate, I would have gotten you something, but I only have two hands and I didn't know what kind of drink you prefer," he said.
"I can manage on my own," Draco said dismissively, stalking off in a graceful strut to leave Ginny with her boyfriend. Was he grumpy? Not terribly…maybe a little, he blamed Potter. He couldn't help but be jealous of Reamann, however, and thus pout a little.
Draco knew he was invoking stares, and glares, and it made him feel a little uncomfortable to hear his name whispered about as he passed, but some part of him, the Malfoy part, was reveling in the attention. No attention was bad attention, that was something he had learned from a young age and probably why he had been such a snot and troublemaker.
Draco paraded across the hall in a confident swagger. The Ministry hall was done up for the occasion, Christmas lights that appeared to be real live pixies in glass orbs hung from the high ceiling that was a mass of hanging and illuminated ice sculptures like carved stalactite. Snow fell above them but seemed to vanish just before it could reach far enough down to actually touch anything. Gold and silver metallic streamers and ribbon hung from the walls and gathered in massive bows some six feet across between every tall window, the glass dark. Live music played, a string quartette.
Reaching the refreshment table Draco ordered himself a scotch on the rocks, glancing across his shoulder at a young witch to his left. She was looking at him, and he looked her up and down with only his eyes and graced her with a smile that made her visibly swoon just a touch. He gave her a wink before accepting his drink with a "cheers" and meandered off again, surveying the crowd.
"Malfoy," a man growled at his back.
"Yes, Satan?" Draco inquired, not turning.
"Very cute, Malfoy," Sebastian said from behind Draco still, Draco turning to face him with a very animated look of surprise.
"I'm sorry, you sounded like someone else I know," he said, a polite smile in place.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?"
"Enjoying the atmosphere."
"You enjoy being the focal point of a sea of glares?"
"Among many other things. I also enjoy the smell of laundry detergent and doing tax reports. My mother always said I had a head for numbers…"
"Enough with the wisecracks, Malfoy."
"I have every right to be here," Draco said coolly, dropping the sarcasm.
"Really? What gave you the impression that you would be welcome to a ball where those that died in the war and served the Ministry faithfully are honored, Death Eater?"
"The fact that I was invited," he said casually, taking a sip of his drink.
"Who would invite you?" he said.
"Oh, come now, Sebastian, there are tens of people that love and adore me," he said, mocking himself at that point but able to smile at it. He felt he was funny, at least.
"Don't be starting anything, Malfoy, or you will have more than just a glare to worry about when it comes to me," he warned, already walking away.
"What happened to us, Sebastian? We used to be such friends," he called after him is false distress, holding his arms out at his sides and causing some people to look and start talking behind their hands and drinks.
Sebastian looked flustered.
Oh yeah, he thought with a satisfied smile, turning back around to strut the floor again.
Malfoy was back.
"Reamann, what is wrong with you?" Draco demanded upon coming up to Ginny and Reamann again.
"What?" he asked, confused and unsure of the question.
"You have this lovely date and you have not yet danced with her," he said, getting a relieved smile out of Ginny who had thought Draco's outrage had been over something serious.
"Oh, no, Reamann just is not a dancing kind of man," she said, holding onto his arm tightly, reassuringly.
"I am," Draco said, holding his thin hand out to Ginny. "Mind, Reamann?" Draco asked, looking only out of the corner of his eye at the other man.
"Oh, um, no, no, you two may have a dance, you would enjoy that, wouldn't you Gin?" he asked, looking over and down at her on his arm.
"Good, because I would have taken her away even if you objected," Draco teased, looking at Ginny now, smirking, looking just like himself years ago. She remembered him at the Yule Ball. She had gone with Neville, and Draco had gone with Pansy Parkinson. She had to admit, she had stolen a glance or two at him. He had looked very nice in his black velvet robes. He had the same kind of high collar as he had then. It must have been a favorite style of his, a flattering one to say the least.
A little taller, and a little thinner now, he otherwise looked like he did back then, confident and self-assured, no doubt in his mind that she would be unable to deny him. She had half a mind to turn him down, but she, for some dark reason, liked his poise and self-assurance. He seemed to lack, or only bear a shadow of, it most of the time and this was refreshing from what she had seen of him the day before. It felt like the real him, even if it was not, or not entirely him. There was more to him than this, but she liked this part of him.
Ginny took his hand and she saw his eyes narrow, like he had known what she was thinking, that she would have refused him just to spite him, and she gave him a little smirk. She had already warned him to stay out of her mind if he did not like what he saw.
Draco led her by the hand to the floor. Eyes followed them, Draco Malfoy being the talk of the night, everyone having an opinion on him being there, most of outraged indignation.
Ginny felt a little anxious with everyone looking at her.
She avoided the papers, and tried to stay out of the limelight, not wanting to be the celebrity everyone one seemed to try and make her…but it looked like she would make the morning paper. Dancing with Death Eaters at the Remembrance Ball…her mother was going to have a fit.
"You know how to waltz?" he asked, holding her right hand in his left, his right on her waist, her left on his shoulder.
"I learned for the Yule Ball, but I haven't had much practice since or opportunity," she admitted.
"Well, that will work fine, just follow my lead then," he said, the music playing, his feet suddenly moving. Ginny lagged for a moment, her feet just shuffling to keep up with him as they moved across the dance floor. She caught up and tried to match his feet and the tempo of the music. After only a moment she was with him, gliding smoothly. He smiled at her.
"Quick," he complemented.
"Arrogant," she responded.
"Too true," he said, Ginny once again unable to insult or offend him. He smiled down at her, surprising her by placing both his hands on her waist and lifting her up and turning around. He placed her back on the floor gently and resumed the waltz.
"Draco," she said, not having expected him to be able to lift her, not having expected the lift at all.
"I am stronger than I look," he said, smirking, knowing what she was thinking, knowing she was self-conscious about her weight a little, and how she felt he was a little too slender to have been able to lift her so easily. He did not take offense to that, rather reveled in his ability to impress her.
They waltzed, turning around and around on the floor while moving in a large circle. Others were dancing too, but not many. It seemed most just wanted to stand, stare, and gab about Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley dancing. At least Draco was a good dancer; they could not rip him apart over that.
Draco did not mind the attention. He was having a good time. Ginny looked like she was too, but some part of her was hung up, he could feel it.
"Relax," he said.
"I am relaxed."
"You are not," he laughed softly.
"Yes I am."
"Do not worry what they say. You do not read the papers, remember? Enjoy yourself, forget them," he said, scooping her into a lift again and turning.
"How does it not bother you?" she asked as they moved.
"What they say about me, you mean?" he asked.
"Yes."
"It does…sometimes…but worrying and fretting never solved anything, and it only leads to misery. You can't change how people think, or public opinion, but nothing causes the people that hate you so much discontent as to see you unbothered and happy," he said, smirking.
Ginny laughed, finally relaxed.
----------------
"Harry, you're glaring," Neville pointed out. "Ron, your stabbing your dinner…" Neville said, sounding a little more worried.
"What does he think he is doing?" Ron growled.
"What does she think she is doing?" Harry fumed.
Hermione was standing a little apart from the boys, looking over at Ginny and Draco as they created a scene. If this was Ginny's idea of being subtle and quiet about her relationship, then Hermione felt she needed to sit her down with a dictionary and explain to her the definition of the word.
She caught sight of Reamann, and though he did not look terribly upset, he looked a little uncomfortable as he watched them.
"Hey Reamann," Hermione said, coming to stand beside him.
"Hello `Mione," he said, still watching them.
"How is your Eve so far?" she asked.
"I can't dance like that," he said, just saying what he was thinking and expressing how he felt quite simply and honestly. He was intimidated by Draco, and Hermione felt for him. It was always hard for a chap to be showed up by another man when it comes to impressing his lady. Hermione hadn't the heart, or right, to tell him the truth on the matter though. Hermione looked over at Draco and Ginny and then sighed.
"Draco is a socialite by nature and was bred for the singular purpose of making good impressions at revelries. Do not be intimidated, it's genetic as far as he is concerned and no one can compete with that."
"It is nice to see him happy, or at least content…looking," he said, Ginny and Draco ending their waltz for him to bow and her to curtsey respectfully. There were some muted claps, most passing it off as their praise for the live music, not the dancers they had been watching.
"Glad you invited him then?" she asked, unsure how happy he would be if he knew the real reason Draco was there.
"Yeah…I am," he said, striding over to Draco and Ginny with a smile on his face.
"Good show, chap, good show! Now I really can't attempt a dance with Ginny, after that I would be more than substandard, I would be an embarrassment," he said, praising Draco.
"Oh, you are being far too modest, Reamann. Ginny is a fine dancer, and if you wouldn't mind her leading, I'm sure you would catch on right quick," Draco said, in a god's honest good mood right then, able to smile at the man, Ginny's boyfriend, even if just slightly so as to remain reserved.
Ginny looked radiant in her happiness and goodwill.
"I'm glad you could come," Reamann said.
"It is nice to be out."
"It's nearly Christmas," Reamann said, looking at the tall clock on the wall high above them where gold and silver streamers cascaded down.
"That it is," Draco said, holding his new drink up in a `cheers'. "I must be gone by midnight, or the spell will be broken and my ride will become a pumpkin again," he said and Ginny laughed, fighting not to hold his hand so grabbing Reamann's instead.
"What are you doing for Christmas day?" Reamann asked as Draco took a sip.
"Spending the day with my family," he said simply, not wanting to discuss that, not with Ginny there with them. Reamann knew about the kids, but Ginny did not, unless Reamann had told her, in which case he would feel the need to thank the man for saving him the trouble, and apologize to him after having punched him really hard in the face.
"What are you doing that night?" he asked.
"Just about the same," Draco said, a little suspicious now.
"How about you join us, Ginny and I that is, for a late Christmas Dinner at the Burrow? The morning is all for family, but the evening is for the friends," he said and Ginny and Draco both looked surprised and uncomfortable.
"I don't think so."
"I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Honey," Ginny said at the same time Draco was talking, them both muttering.
"Come on, the Burrow will be loaded with food, no need to worry," he said.
"Worry only that Harry, Ron, and several other rather large, strapping males will be in attendance who do not like me much," Draco said, taking another hearty gulp of his drink at the thought.
"They will behave, it's Christmas," Reamann urged.
"I think it would be a good chance to maybe clear up some misunderstandings." This coming from Ginny, looking at Reamann, and then over to Draco.
"You can't be serious."
"Well, it's only a suggestion," she said, shrugging, Draco not believing his ears. He would have gone into great detail about how they were both mental, but there was a commotion right then and Reamann was summoned.
"Reamann, we have to go," Sebastian said, sounding authoritative and brash as ever.
"What? Now? What happened?" he asked.
"There was another attack."
"It's Christmas Eve," Ginny said, looking shocked.
"Come along Reamann," Sebastian said, ignoring Ginny, looking at his "partner" as though bothered by the very idea that he was a necessity.
He then turned to Draco and Draco stood strong under his gaze.
"Shouldn't you be slinking off too?" he asked.
"Excuse me?" Draco asked crisply, drink in hand and nose pointing up slightly.
"You are Reamann's informant, aren't you?"
"Am I?" he retorted.
"I'm sure that's how your hair got on the scene, he snuck you in somehow."
"I'm relieved to learn that you believe that to be the explanation of how my hair got there, rather than you still suspecting me as the one responsible, I will sleep better tonight," he drawled. "But I'm sure I haven't any idea what you are talking about, Sebastian darling. You plagued with Wrackspurts? I hear they are quite bad this time of year," he drawled, getting Ginny to snort a laugh which she then tried to disguise as a sneeze and Sebastian looked a little flustered, annoyed that he had been unable to shake Draco even a little.
"Where were you this afternoon, Malfoy?" Sebastian asked coldly, clearly meaning to implicate Draco then in this newest attack.
"At home, washing my hair," Draco replied, just as frigidly but smiling innocently.
Sebastian and Draco shared a fierce glare for a prolonged moment before Sebastian broke it (few being able to hold a Malfoy glare) and snapped at Reamann to come with him. Several Aurors, including Ron, were leaving the ball at that point.
"This is awful," Ginny said, that being the collective though of the room around them, so Draco gathered.
"This is aggravating," he said, speaking of a great deal many things, including: him not being able to crack the case yet, Sebastian suspecting him of being Reamann's informant, him just being implicated in the newest attack, and on top of all that…the slough of paperwork he would undoubtedly have to read through and report on.
"Poor Reamann, he is probably going to be out all night," she said, looking in the direction of where they had disappeared to.
Draco was silent beside her for a moment, and then they seemed to have a joint thought and looked at each other.
Ginny hurried over to Hermione and told her she was not feeling well and would be "heading home," and since Reamann had been Draco's "ride" she would be dropping him off on the way.
Hermione got the message loud and clear, and she would pass Ginny's story on for her friend…but was not happy as she watched her friend hurry off to take advantage of the opportunity to have the night alone, or not alone, but with different company.
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Author's Note:
OMG, this was a long chapter, as they have been for a while. Harry is a jerk in this chapter, as always. His stubbornness is canon. The flashback was important (even if it seemed a little out of place) and I realize some of you might be a little confused as to why I put it in right there. I did it because 1) I am running out of time to tell that half of the story, 2) it shows Draco's mental-state, (now and at the time of the war) the stress he was under, and why Harry didn't trust him on the rooftop during the `Final Battle' flashback in Chapter 03. and 3) it shows why Draco HATES Harry so much still to this day. Of ANY thought or memory Harry could have had at that moment upon looking at Draco, he chose that one, a very unflattering one of Draco, and that seriously hurt Draco to learn that.
We saw a LITTLE glimpse into how the children feel about Daddy!Draco dating. Sounds promising, doesn't it? *snickers*
I hope you all enjoyed the sweet sweet Draco and Ginny action. More to come, I assure you. I bumped the rating up on this fic, if you did not notice. It was R and is now NC-17, thanks to Chapter 15 and, well, upcoming chapters. :) Reamann's name is STILL not working, and that REALLY pisses me off.
I hope you all review! If you feel the need to tell me to "update soon" or "update quickly" that's alright, but please say more than just that because I can already easily assume you all want me to update again someday.
I needs me some feedback, I have been having a TERRIBLE week!!
Also, if anyone would like to hear some of my arguments as to why I think Draco is a Werewolf, check out my reviews from chapter 17. I responded to one review with a lengthy (and I mean LENGTHY) little explanation. I hope you all look at it!
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Credits:
I used dialog from a scene from the movie "Ace Ventura, Pet Detective" because that movie cracks me up and when I wrote the scene it just fit so nicely. It was a last minute addition, the scene would have survived without it, but I would not have. It was just too perfect.
"Ventura,"
"Yes, Satan?...Oh, I'm sorry sir! You sounded like somebody else..."
"Never mind the wisecracks, Ventura…"
Then there is a very obvious reference to the song "Defying Gravity" from the musical Wicked in the flashback, mostly near the end of it with the line "if I'm flying solo, at least I'm flying free." I wrote basically the whole scene, minus the ending, without having ever heard the song, then my sister bought the CD and I was like, "wow, I like this song," and realized that it corresponded with my scene near perfectly. Funny how things like that happen. I call it fate, or irritating coincidences that make me feel far less creative and original. Whatever the case, I still have never seen/read/or listened to the whole musical/book. Just that song, so any other similarities are purely coincidental.
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