Galas and Girls
Chapter 14: Galas and Girls
Pansy and Theo sprawled out onto Draco’s bed, Blaise retaking his post lying down on the chaise once more. Draco attempted to curl up into his reading chair after dragging it closer to the bed, but as he passed his writing desk, he spotted a purple glow emanating from the parchment sitting on top. Scrambling to read what it said, he nearly fell out of the chair, tripping over his own feet before catching himself on the edge of the sturdy desk.
Malfoy?
She had written in her unmistakable handwriting. It works! He knew it did before he even sent it to her, but really he was shocked she actually used it. Surely they would consider themselves friends by now, but he was still amazed every time she deigned to grace him with her acquaintance, whether in person or on paper.
Granger.
Happy Christmas
The page was silent for a moment before another glow of purple radiated from it.
Oh! Happy Christmas! How is your holiday? This parchment is fantastic! Where did you get it? Thank you for the books, by the way, they’re lovely!
Draco grinned smugly.
I made it.
He could practically hear her jaw hit the floor on the other side of the enchanted paper. He could clearly see her reaction in his mind, he didn’t even have to try very hard to picture her face—the same look she got when his potion was significantly better than hers and she knew it.
Be serious.
It took all of his strength to not make a “Sirius” joke…it was probably for the best that he was the one writing and not Theo.
Oh I am. Dead serious.
Another pause before the parchment glowed again.
How?
He considered the question carefully. He could reveal his hard work and then she’d undoubtedly master it and then he’d have nothing to dangle over her overachieving head…but it was so tempting to just tell her and hear how impressed she was. That one. I’m going with that one.
Dual Protean charms cast simultaneously so that the parchments were linked only to each other. Quite simple really.
Draco eagerly awaited the praise he knew would come. Unfortunately, he never thought there was a possibility that she wouldn’t believe him.
And I’m supposed to believe you? That’s N.E.W.T. level charmwork, Malfoy. Quite comical, aren’t you
He felt irritation brewing under the surface, just enough to distract him from the fact that his friends were creeping ever closer behind him to read over his shoulder.
As if you’re the only genius in Hogwarts. Get lost Granger.
Theo snorted over his shoulder, startling Draco and causing him to smear ink across the parchment.
“Well way to start a lover’s quarrel on Christmas,” Pansy scoffed. “You really shouldn’t tell the girl you obsess over to get lost. She might actually do it. But kudos on the thoughtful gift, truly, bravo.”
“Oh leave the man alone, will you?” Blaise called, still lying on the chaise. “Let him muck up his own relationship, alright.”
“And what fun would that be?” Pansy teased playfully.
I would’ve thought your precious oversized ego could handle a little good natured ridiculing since you like to dish it out so often.
Draco ground his teeth as he clenched his jaw aggressively.
Gee thanks, Granger.
Pansy snatched the quill out from under Draco’s fingers and scribbled quickly.
Granger, you were spot on, don’t let his piss poor attitude tell you otherwise.
“What are you doing?” Draco demanded.
“It’s obvious isn’t it? I’m talking to Granger, duh,” Pansy said mockingly.
“Ooh! I want a turn!” Theo jumped in, enthusiastically shoving Pansy aside as he too grabbed the quill.
Hey there, Granger, I just wanted you to know that I’m significantly taller, darker, and much handsomer than Draco, and therefore a much better choice
“Seriously?!” Draco shouted, forcefully taking the quill back and angrily pushing his two friends aside.
Ignore them they think they’re really funny
Draco waited for a few minutes but she didn’t respond. “Great! You two idiots went and scared her off! Thanks a ton,” he growled.
“Oh come off it, it’s Christmas, mate, she’s probably busy ya know doing stuff with her family,” Blaise scolded.
“Whatever,” Draco grumbled.
“Sooo are we gonna talk about the whole wolf-mom thing?” Pansy asked a bit irreverently.
Theo subconsciously clutched the newly re-shaped pendant through his shirt. “Not really much more to say.”
The parchment glowed violet and Draco’s heart sped up significantly.
I’m just going to pretend whoever that was didn’t just say that
Draco grinned sheepishly, earning himself a round of laughter from his friends.
Pansy and Theo, my apologies, they’re staying at the Manor with me.
After he had written it, he suddenly felt a pang of regret for not adjusting the charm to require a wand tap to send the message—at least that would’ve allowed for some editing. He didn’t mean to sound pretentious, but he immediately realized that referring to his ancestral home as “the Manor” would probably be a bit much. Draco wasn’t sure what socioeconomic class Granger was from in the Muggle world, but he thought it safe to assume she was above the Weasley’s and below most of his mother’s circle. The parchment illuminated and he held his breath, hoping she wouldn’t take his words the wrong way.
Pansy Parkinson?
Yes and Theo Nott. Blaise Zabini is here too, but he has enough good manners to not snoop on private conversations
That’s good I guess, I stayed at Hogwarts for the holidays to keep Harry and Ron company. I do miss my parents dearly, but I was afraid Harry might do something stupid like chase after Sirius Black if he was left alone here.
Draco scoffed at the audacity. Even Potter’s friends knew how utterly stupid and rash he was.
Why on Earth would Potter go looking for someone he thinks is trying to kill him?
What do you mean “thinks”?
Shit.
Nothing. Don’t read into it Granger, just a turn of phrase.
Well Harry got a new broomstick for Christmas—a Firebolt supposedly. There was no note on it so he has absolutely no idea who it’s from! He’s really going to use it without even thinking that it could be a trick from Black! He literally got knocked off a hexed broom in First Year and it didn’t even cross his mind to think it was a trap!
What the actual fuck.
“POTTER GOT THE FIREBOLT?!” Draco roared in fury.
“What?!” Blaise and Theo shot up out of their seats, also enraged.
“So what?” Pansy rolled her eyes, disinterested.
“So what?! It’s the fastest, newest broom on the market, is what! Not to mention Sirius did buy it! We thought he was going to give it to Draco or use it for himself if he was in need of escape!” Theo rattled off in disbelief.
“Seriously Pans, how could you be so obtuse?!” Draco gawked, Blaise’s face mirroring his sentiment.
“I resent that,” she narrowed her eyes at the three boys. “However, I’m willing to overlook that and actually help you morons,” she pushed for dramatic effect before continuing, “just tell her it probably is from Sirius and she should have McGonagall examine it. Those two will have the broom locked up in Ministry red tape for months.” Pansy grinned ruefully, proud of her deviousness.
“That—that’s brilliant,” Blaise said in awe. She just shrugged and smirked back. Draco was already scratching away at the parchment with Theo hovering over his shoulder.
Granger, if you really think that broomstick could be from Sirius Black, you need to report it. That could be so dangerous. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to beat Potter in Quidditch, but not by him getting thrown off a cursed broom
All four Slytherins laughed a bit too maniacally to ever claim innocence.
You’re right. I’m going to tell McGonagall and have her check it. If anyone would be able to tell, it’d be her. Thanks, Malfoy, I know you and Harry don’t get along, but I really appreciate your honesty. I’ll write back after Christmas dinner!
“You wicked witch,” Draco pointed at Pansy. “You're a genius! She bought it!”
“I personally thought the whole ‘beating Potter fair and square in Quidditch’ thing was a bit much, but she ate it up!” Theo laughed, the rest of the group joining in. They spent the remainder of their afternoon daydreaming about how Potter would do flying on a borrowed school broom for the rest of the Quidditch season.
…
Christmas dinner at Malfoy Manor was uneventful. Narcissa spent the evening tiptoeing around Theo, both conversationally and physically. She kept her interests strictly to their schoolwork and how the rest of their friends were spending their holidays. This then prompted Theo to shift any attention lingering around him over to Draco by mentioning Hermione Granger. Naturally, Narcissa was like a dog with a bone—not resting until Draco admitted he’d been communicating with her over their break, although he did leave out the part about the charmed parchment.
Also wanting to shift the attention away from himself, Draco used a feeble attempt at mentioning the Firebolt to have Sirius take his place in the spotlight. When it was made clear that Potter was having the Firebolt confiscated, Sirius’s once cheery and festive mood soured.
“Why would she have it confiscated if he’s her best friend?” Sirius growled in irritation.
“Well she thinks it’s from you—which it is,” Draco pointed out.
“Why should that matter?” Sirius countered petulantly.
“Well, I dunno, maybe because all of Wizarding England thinks you’re trying to kill him?!” Pansy said as though it was obvious—which it was, apparently to everyone except Sirius.
The wizard temporarily let the conversation die out before dragging it back up. “Maybe I could write to Minnie! She’d understand, I mean he is my godson—“
“Are you daft?!” Blaise accused, “McGonagall would have a team of Aurors closing in on this place within the hour!”
Sirius’s face fell when he realized just how true of a statement that was. He was a fugitive, hiding with blood purists. If he was caught holed up in Malfoy Manor, it would be devastating for everyone involved. He’d never see justice as a confirmed Voldemort supporter, and the Malfoys would be accused of breaking him out of Azkaban to re-start the Wizarding War. Sirius would just have to let the Firebolt debacle go—it would sort itself out eventually…
Blaise subtly elbowed Draco under the table, using his dark eyes to draw Draco’s attention to the purple glow coming from his pocket.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll join you all for dessert,” Draco delicately scooted his chair back, avoiding a loud scrape against the polished floors.
ProfessorMcGonagall doesn’t know how to check the broom so she’s sending it to the Ministry! I didn’t think it would leave the castle. Now Harry and Ron aren’t speaking to me…I don’t know what to do
Draco instantly felt guilt drop in his gut. He didn’t think about how it would affect her. He just knew Potter’s broom would get taken away—but of course he should’ve known! Potter and the Weasel have never treated her right, especially with their ridiculous tempers…now what do I do?
Granger, you know you did the right thing. How can they not see, even after McGonagall agreed it could be cursed, that it was dangerous? Don’t let them get to you. You’re the only real friend they both have. No one else would’ve looked out for them like that. I wish my friends cared about me that much.
“Playing the sympathy card, I see,” Blaise smirked over Draco’s shoulder.
“Ugh! What is it with you three and snooping?” Draco sighed, exasperated.
“I think you forget,” Blaise tapped Draco on the end of his nose, “you are the king of snooping and eavesdropping soo…”
Draco cracked a smile and they shared a quick laugh before the parchment glowed again.
Malfoy, you know I’d do the same for you, right? I’d like to think we’re friends, even if it is only when no one else is around.
His heart swooped in his chest, feeling like he would lift off the ground if let himself. At least until Blaise made a depressing hissing sound.
“Sorry mate, the friend zone is not a pleasant place to be,” Blaise lamented to his friend.
“Friend zone?!” Draco panicked. Sure she had called us friends but that’s because we are, right?! Mother always said the best romantic relationships come from growing friendships! She’s a girl—she’d know more than Blaise…I think…?
“Yeah, that blows—but welcome to the club!” Blaise joked cheerily.
“Who friend zoned you?” Draco questioned.
“Uh Pansy? Duh,” Blaise rolled his eyes as though it were obvious. “We’ve been ‘friends’ since the whole apology in the Great Hall thing.”
“Oh—“
“It’s no matter, I’ll win her over eventually. I’ve got big plans to woo her at the Gala,” Blaise said determinedly.
“Well that’s—“ Draco tried again before being abruptly cut off.
“I’ll tell her how beautiful she looks—showing I’m still interested. Then I’ll ask her to dance—because she loves dancing. And finally, I’ll bring her lots of champagne—you know how she loves to drink,” Blaise grinned dreamily at his somewhat thought out plan.
“Well, good luck with that,” Draco sighed, giving up. He turned back to the parchment, contemplating how to respond.
Granger, I would do anything for you. The only ones who don’t know we‘re friends are probably Potter and Weasley.
He would. He really would. Not that she needed to know just how true that statement was at the moment—especially if he was friend zoned…but maybe, just maybe, it could get him out of it.
Thanks, Malfoy
Anytime, Granger
…
Draco spent the next couple of days chatting back and forth with Granger through the charmed parchments. He never took it off his person, for fear of Pansy or Theo stealing it and confessing his ‘undying love’ to her without him knowing. Now that he knew he was in the friend zone, that was all he needed was for someone to irrevocably embarrass him in front of her.
The Gala was fast approaching, and the three boys grew nervous about starting the next step. They would have to keep Mandrake leaves in their mouths for a full month. As gross as that was in general, they couldn’t get caught. They’d be on the Hogwarts Express soon, and if McGonagall caught wind of any funny business, she’d immediately know exactly what they were doing.
The leaves were ready, freshly picked from Narcissa’s gardens, all that was left was to wait for the full moon to rise during the party. Most of the anxiety exuding from the three boys was based in their uncertainty of what their forms would take. Well, Theo knew his would probably be a wolf, but Draco and Blaise had absolutely no clue what animal they would become.
An hour til the Gala was set to begin, the boys headed to their rooms to get ready. Pansy had left after a rushed lunch to begin getting ready, which boggled them—each saying ‘how long could it possibly take to get ready?’ and ‘don’t you have magic for that?’. Neither Pansy nor Narcissa took well to their commentary as they huffed off to get begin doing their hair or whatever.
At seven o’clock sharp the first of the guests arrived, and Draco set to work leading them into the ballroom. Mippy collected their coats and belongings, popping away and back to the entryway at a dizzying speed. Theo and Blaise were quickly ushered over to assist, and Narcissa set the charmed trays to work delivering glasses of champagne and hors d'oeuvres to those mingling along the edges. Music was playing in the background—enchanted to adjust the volume to match that of the voices in the room, just loud enough to be heard by those chatting but voluminous to those dancing in the center of the floor. This year’s enchanted ceiling held sights of the Northern Lights showcasing shades of vibrant emerald, aquamarine, and amethyst. The Manor itself was designed to appear as an ice palace, and was delightful to explore as many guests did, no matter how many Galas and teas they had previously attended.
When Narcissa and Pansy finally joined the party, all four men—Lucius had joined them since the start of the gala—stood in awe. Narcissa wore a glittering white gown, nearly blending in with her platinum blonde hair which was set in beautiful soft curls to frame her sharp features. Her silver eyes twinkled as the reflections of the purple, blue, and green sparkles from her dress danced around the room.
“My dear, you look ravishing,” Lucius nearly salivated in front of the entire party, and he straightened his pale blue bow tie and silver tuxedo jacket.
Uncharacteristically self-conscious, his wife delicately patted the small matching jeweled tiara that sat atop her head to check its placement. “Thank you, darling, care to dance?” She offered playfully.
“As you wish,” his father answered, full of devotion.
“Gross,” Draco grumbled, and they all chuckled except Blaise. He was still staring at Pansy in her satin emerald gown. It hugged her every curve as the fabric wrapped gently across her body, and Blaise seemed to be having a rather hard time tearing his eyes away. It was held up by tiny black lace straps, matching the black lace choker she wore around her neck. Draco winked at the witch, who pretended to ignore them all, running to greet Daphne and Tracey as they entered behind the boys.
“Wow,” Blaise sighed dreamily.
Draco and Theo shared an eye roll behind his back before both slapping him on the back of the head simultaneously. Apparently it didn’t work.
“Do you see that dress?” Blaise eyed Pansy from behind, at least until Draco stepped in front of him.
“Yes, mate, now snap out of it!” Draco snapped his fingers in his friend’s face to get his attention. “You can’t just gawk at her all night—don’t you have some plan?”
“Right…Plan…” Blaise said, sounding far away.
“Oh for the love of—“
THWACK!
Theo hit Blaise over the head even harder. That did it. The shorter wizard slowly turned toward Theo, ire blaring in his eyes.
“What the actual fuck, Theo!” Blaise shouted. Thankfully, the music and chatter around them had grown significantly louder as another round of guests entered the ballroom.
Pansy and the rest of the girls traipsed back to their little group, instantly breaking up the building tension as Blaise was enamored once again. Pansy smirked at Draco as she tossed her shiny, straightened raven hair over her shoulder, nearly flicking Blaise in the face. The blonde just shook his head, laughing at his friend’s misfortune of falling for the most manipulative girl at Hogwarts.
The little snake pit was quickly invaded by Anthony Goldstein, who still seemed to be in Daphne’s good graces. Somehow they had managed to maintain an inter-house relationship for a solid two months. Much to the surprise of the Slytherins, he actually fit in rather well with pureblood society, given that he was a half-blood. He had a knack for hearing people’s thoughts—feelings?—or so he said, but he never used it against any of them. Anyone who could keep a secret was alright by them. He usually only brought it up to be empathetic more than anything.
Draco found himself wondering if Granger would fit in just as well. He hadn’t paid much attention to her table manners, but it was nearly impossible not to look high class when she was always seated next to the Weasel. She could definitely hold an intelligent conversation, but he wasn’t sure if she’d even be interested in anything the society women would have to say.
“Hey guys!” The Ravenclaw called to the other males in the circle, pausing as he made eye contact with Blaise, then waggling his eyebrows with a wink.
Blaise didn’t respond but his eyes nervously shot to where Pansy stood only a few feet away, talking animatedly with Millie and Greg who had also just walked over. He made a vigorous cutting motion across his neck with his hand to silence the newcomer. Immediately understanding the sentiment, Anthony solemnly nodded before wrapping an arm sweetly around Daphne’s lavender silk-clad waist.
Throughout the night, Draco was frequently swept away by the tide of guests ebbing and flowing around the ballroom. A whisper of inquiry here, a comment on his growth there, with a few well wishes and thanks for hosting sprinkled in between. Eventually, Draco broke free of the current and was able to wade back through the throngs of partygoers to rejoin the rest of the teenagers.
Lucius and several of the men in attendance had begun to congregate near the far entrance to the boisterous ballroom. They all huddled around a pair of darker shrouded men. One was short in stature, and therefore difficult to see around the other taller men, but the other was tall enough to make out some features. He had graying frizzled hair down to his shoulders, paired with a long pointed beard. His piercing blue eyes scanned the room, catching Draco’s only for a moment.
“Is that Viktor Krum?!” Theo whispered with hot breath in Draco’s ear. The sound made him jump nearly a foot from where he previously stood.
“What? Where!” Blaise bounced trying to see over the heads of the larger men. Even Draco had to crane his neck to get a glimpse, but the dark hair and severe features with the Bulgarian accent floating through the room was a dead giveaway.
“What’s he doing here?” Draco wondered aloud. This must be all the last minute meetings father’s been in…but why would he want to meet with Krum and whoever the hell that older man is?
Lucius’s icy blue gaze landed on Draco’s and the man waved him over to join the rest of the gathered men. “Draco, this is Igor Karkaroff, Headmaster at Durmstrang,” he drawled, presenting his son to the fierce-looking man.
“Mr. Karkaroff,” Draco extended his hand in greeting, but the older wizard just stared, assessing the young man before him. He felt a drop of sweat bead up and roll slowly down his spine. Why is he looking at me like that? He looks like a shark.
“Lucius, I will consider your request,” Karkaroff turned back toward the elder Malfoy, ignoring Draco completely, “look for my owl after the new year.” He pivoted back to Draco, “perhaps you can introduce young Viktor here to some of your schoolmates. I have a feeling you will all be seeing much more of each other soon.” The man’s smile was cringey and rancid.
Without even looking back at the men, Draco motioned for Viktor to follow him back to the collection of Slytherins. “I am Viktor Krum,” the other wizard said, following closely behind Draco so they wouldn’t be separated in the chaos of the party.
“Glad to have you, Viktor, Draco Malfoy,” he held his hand across his body. This time the greeting was reciprocated with a firm handshake and a grin.
“And just who are these lovely ladies?” Viktor asked smoothly as they approached the circle of Draco’s friends.
“Are—are you—“ Daphne started to say, but Krum just held a finger up to her lips.
“Da, I am Viktor Krum,” he smirked with his thick accent, and Daphne damn near swooned back against Goldstein. Surprisingly the lad seemed good natured and just chuckled as he hauled his fawning girlfriend away from the Bulgarian Quidditch player.
Tracey and Millie stared intently at the celebrity like they’d never met someone quite so famous—yet Celestina Warbeck had graced them with her presence for years. Apparently Quidditch stars are in another league. Literally. Draco laughed inwardly at his own joke.
Pansy remained uninterested in the newest addition to the party, and continued talking animatedly with an up and coming Parisian fashion designer—Chloé something or another—who was staring at Krum in disgust. Draco shrugged, must be a French thing. Viktor, however, was having none of it.
“Vot are you ladies discussing? Anything I can help vith?” He asked, trying very hard to vie for their attention.
“No thank you,” Pansy replied, disinterested. The French woman continued to shoot nasty glances at the Quidditch player.
“Have I done something to offend you, Madame?” Viktor inquired heatedly, eyes blazing.
“If you must know, you lost me four thousand galleons,” she answered curtly.
“Ah, my apologies,” he bowed to the fashion designer, but she had left with a harrumph to the sound of clicking kitten heels fading into the din.
Now it was Pansy’s turn to glare at the Bulgarian. “I hope you realize what you’ve just done!” She shrieked inhumanely, stamping her foot like a petulant child.
“Vot?” He froze in confusion.
“She was just about to offer me a summer internship, you barbarian!” Pansy wailed, clenching her fists. “Just stay away from me!” The witch stormed off in search of the French woman, disappearing into the sea of faces.
“I don’t understand,” Viktor looked to Draco for clarity.
“Oh, Pansy doesn’t care for Quidditch much. She probably doesn’t even really know who you are, or care for that matter. I wouldn’t worry about it much,” he responded a bit blasé.
“She does not care that I am famous?” Viktor looked astounded.
“Not unless you can aid in any of her current schemes—and judging by that other witch’s reaction to you, I’d say the chances are slim,” Draco offered as a bit of friendly advice.
Unfortunately, Viktor Krum had taken it as a challenge and began lurking around the edges of the ballroom, trying to spot a fiery raven-haired witch in green. Once Blaise realized what the Quidditch star was doing, he went mental.
“What do you mean he’s looking for Pansy? Why would he want to do that?” Blaise assed in an accusatory tone. “Did you tell him she’s spoken for?”
“Well, she’s not though, is she?” Draco asked teasingly, but his friend didn’t find any humor in the question.
“Don’t you start acting like Theo—“
“You called?” Theo slid between the two friends, wrapping a slightly drunk arm around each of their shoulders.
“Ugh!” Blaise shoved the limp arm off. “You knew I had a plan to get her back tonight!”
“Yup,” Draco said, popping the ‘p’ a little, “and she had a plan to get you back, idiot. So go get her. She literally showed zero interest in Krum. The only problem is he apparently liked that.”
Blaise growled, “he better not lay a hand on mywitch!” Jealousy seeped out of every pore, and Draco hoped beyond hope that Pansy would see Blaise still wanted her, and that she wasn’t stupid enough to indulge the wildcard she’d been dealt.
“Alright, alright. Blaise, you’ve got an hour to find her before we need to meet out in the gardens. Theo, you have an hour to sober the hell up,” Draco commanded. Theo straightened his spine at the implication, and needing no further time wasted, Blaise weaved through the crowd to look for Pansy.
…
After an hour of pulling constant glasses of champagne from Theo’s hands, Blaise wandered back over in despair. “I can’t find her or Krum anywhere,” he said solemnly.
“Oh no you don’t, we’re not going down that rabbit hole right now. Let’s go, it’s almost time,” Draco dragged the two boys out to the gardens. Being the only one with his wits about him, he cast a few warming charms around each of them as they walked through the pristine snow. “Everyone have their leaves?” He asked a little condescendingly.
“Yes, mum,” Theo rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.
“Alright gents,” Blaise said after they had all pulled their leaves out. “Here we go.”
They slipped them in their cheeks quickly, and Theo tried not to gag as the bitter taste hit them all at once. “Theo, don’t you dare spit it out!” Draco warned.
After they regained their composure and the taste dulled somewhat, they re-entered the party which was slowly starting to thin out. As guests matriculated toward the front entrance, some drunkenly stumbling, others still chatting merrily, Draco spotted Viktor Krum looking, well, rather glum at apparently not finding the slippery minx that was Pansy Parkinson.