Tainted Love

Christmas Eve Ball

DRACO

Astoria stood next to him, staring at her reflection in the floor-length mirror that decorated the entrance hall of Greengrass House. She rotated her face from side to side, slight adjustments, blinking slowly. Practicing her angles.

Back in the tea room, somewhere behind them, Astoria's parents were mingling with Narcissa. If Draco had it his way, his mother would have never met Astoria at all, much less her parents. But things weren't going his way tonight and he supposed he might as well get used to it now rather than later.

It was the Christmas Eve Ball, the biggest event of the year. The make or break night of their relationship, apparently.

"Okay, good," Astoria said, validating her own appearance and Draco's by extension.

Draco was not his own person in Astoria's eyes. He was simply an extension of her, a part of her persona. He was using Astoria as much as she was using him, but at least he understood that she existed outside of him.

"Let's go back," she added.

"I'm going to the bathroom," he replied, and turned and walked down the hall.

He had no idea where the bathroom was and had no intention of using it - he just needed Astoria to leave so that he could expand the tiny flask he had been hiding in the inside pocket of his suit. He heard her heels click as she walked away and ducked around the first corner he could find.

It was a tricky charm, the shrinking one - he had copied it from Granger. Not that he would admit that to anybody else. He murmured the countercharm and felt the tiny piece of metal grow against his side. A full-sized flask now. With enough liquor to last for the next hour at least.

He took a swig and winced. The carpets at Greengrass house were all dark green, as if to remind anyone who stepped foot in it that they were a real pureblood family, Slytherin through and through.

Astoria's parents had a much warmer demeanor than the Malfoys ever had, but they shared the same obsession with reputation, the pursuit of persona. A very specific persona, at that.

Draco inhaled before taking another swig, the drink burning his throat and stinging at his nose. Tonight already felt like a slow death - he couldn't imagine what the actual ball would entail. He felt like he was getting ready for his own funeral.

Fittingly, then, he was wearing all black. It was a new suit, perfectly tailored, but it was eerily reminiscent of the way he dressed in his sixth year, during the war. He figured if he was regressing to his teenage self he might as well look the part.

He took another swig then cut himself off, if only to save some alcohol for later. He pointed his wand at the flask and shrunk it, tucking it neatly into the inseam of his suit once again.

He looked up to see that a portrait had been watching the whole scene play out. Some Greengrass relative from what looked like at least a hundred years ago. He squinted at the gold plating around the frame - 'Antony Greengrass, 1846 - France's first mute potioneer'

Draco looked up and smirked at the rather ugly man in the painting. Antony couldn't tell the Greengrasses that Draco had been drinking in some corner of their house even if he wanted to.

"Oh, there you are," Astoria said as he walked back into the tea room. Her tone was light, but he could see a warning in her eyes - he could not mess this night up. She probably already suspected that his absence had naught to do with the bathroom.

She couldn't scold him now, though, because they were not alone. Narcissa and the Greengrasses sat in velvety armchairs with pin-straight posture. Daphne was there too, leaning against the wall. Draco didn't mind her much. She was wearing an understated white dress and a disinterested expression. It heartened him to know that he wasn't the only person who was seemingly dreading the entire night ahead.