First Bal
“Harry Potter!”
And here it goes.
It has been an hour since Harry had stepped through the doors and until then he had managed to stay hidden, enjoying a glass of elvin wine, his back stuck against a wall, his eyes never leaving the lean figure of Malfoy. It was strange but in this situation, Draco was the only thing to bring him the least bit of comfort. He wore a wizard suit, all black with silver lining, his jacket was left open, letting his dragon pattern vest be shown to everyone's eyes, the point was clear, Draco Malfoy was not ashamed of his name.
Contrary to Harry he had been walking around the ballroom, engaging in conversations with people he met on his way, a sweet but clearly fake smile pulling his face prettily.
He was confident, in his element.
“Harry Potter.”
Right, he too, had to put on a smile and pretend to have a good time. He had recognised the voice, and already knew what to expect.
“Excuse me, Minister. I got lost for a minute.”
“No need to apologize. Let me introduce you to Lady Selwyn.My Lady, Sir Potter.”
“Lord Potter-Black actually. A pleasure to meet you Lady Selwyn.”
Harry took the gloved hand, raised his way and lowered his head, lightly pressing his lips on her knuckles. Letting the hand go he noted the smile on the lips of the older woman facing him, she was one of the Twenty-Eight, of course she would be, somewhat, pleased to hear about the comeback of the Black. However the smile on Kingsley's face had turned into an uncomfortable grimace.
Harry already knew it would happen, everyone on the light side wouldn’t take the new development of his title as a good thing. It was a dark name, the Savior couldn’t possibly be associated with a dark family, it would defeat the purpose of marketing him as a figure to the light side.
Because even if the war had ended, politics hadn’t and the battle against light and dark had never stopped. The older families were fighting to be able to continue to use their ancestral family magic, arguing that not all dark magic was bad, and that light magic could also be used to fight, even kill. On the other side, the light, and more recent families, wanted to banish all types of black magic, arguing that it was their practices that had pushed the Dark Lords and their followers into craziness.
Harry didn’t have much of an opinion, he had used an unforgivable once and hadn’t felt crazier or badder than before. He knew that white magic could be used to fight and even kill, a particularly strong Severing Charm could let someone bleed to death, and Tickling Charm could suffocate if held long enough. He also knew better than most that prohibiting something would simply nourish the interest of some people.
Harry was one of those people, he understood and respected boundaries, but rules? Rules were to him as the Apple was to Eve. The forbidden thing that simply sounded too tentative to not be touched. Hermione had never understood his point of view, for her, rules were sacred words, she had to bypass some to be able to survive seven years next to Harry, but she hated it every single time. Ron was, like for a lot of things, the mix of the both of them. He wasn’t particularly tempted to break rules, unless they were as dumb as one Umbridge had put up during their fifth year, but he also didn’t feel especially bad when going against them.
“Harry? Are you listening to me, my boy?”
“No, my apologies, Minister.” Harry was tired of correcting people about his title, so he would put to practice one of the lessons Draco had taught him. A polite, clearly fake smile pulling uncomfortably on his cheeks muscle, he accentuated the title of his interlocutor. Making it just the right amount of obvious that he did, in fact, noticed the disrespect he was shown. “My mind must have gotten lost somewhere else, what were you saying?”
“I was simply wishing you a good evening, I will let you two to discuss for now. Lady Selwyn, Lord Potter-Black.” Kingsley finished his sentence by a small tilt of his head, gently taking the hand of the lady that was still on his right forearm away and passing it in a polite, well practiced manner to Harry.
And as hard as it had been to converse with the ex Auror, discussing with Lady Selwyn was strangely easy. She was a cousin of the former Lord, and hadn’t heard much from him since the first death of Voldemort, learning of his death during the war, four months ago. Her family and herself had decided to stay quiet during those times. That is how, nearly a year later she found herself Lady and leader of the very few Selwyn still alive and in liberty, her three children, her younger brother and his fiancee.
Harry and her continued their idle conversation through the night, changing the subject from time to time when other people would come their way for a few words. And when it was finally time for the dances, and Harry still hadn’t asked her for one, she took matters into her own hands, pulling him by the hand towards the center of the room, guiding him with gentle hands through two waltz, before changing partner with the couple on their right.
And that is how, five dances in, his legs feeling heavy and his feet starting to mess up the steps, that Harry suddenly recognizes the long cold fingers gripping tightly his waist and entraining him into a rhythm much faster and chaotic.
“Seems to me you did good Potter. Certainly you aren’t tired now that we have an occasion to talk?” Draco’s voice was as cold as usual but he still managed to leave a warm feeling behind each syllable. He was such a good actor, that Harry could fall prey to his charms if he hadn’t seen all of him already.
“Lord Potter-Black, Malfoy.” Harry was being straight up sarcastic and they both knew it, if the small smirk quickly appearing and disappearing just as fast, on the blond haired man was a sign at all.
“I will address you correctly when you do so.”
“Apologies, My Lord, it wasn’t in my optic to offend you.”
It was only the second time Harry had used this title to address Draco mockingly, and just as the first time, he noticed the tensing in the taller man's shoulder, and the strange wave passing on his face in the blink of an eye. But this time, because the man’s hands were on his body he felt his grip becoming impossibly more thigh, pulling him against the chest facing him, at the perfect time to “camoufle” the painful wince Harry let go from his lips.
“Stop that right this instant, Potter.” It was the first time in all of their years of knowing each other that Draco’s voice had sounded so…animal… He must really hate it, to let himself go this much in front of all these influential people.
“Sorry…” The grip on his waist tightens for a second before letting him go. The music had ended, allowing the wizards enchanting the instruments to play on their own, to take a small break.
It was now or never for Harry to leave unnoticed.
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