Act I: I Can't Believe I'm Doing This

Part 13

There's a little ball of anxiety sitting deep in my gut. I haven't been to any events this nice in ages. Even the dozen or so Ministry-sponsored balls per year haven't prepared me for a ball hosted by Narcissa Black. I know she's my friend, but really, what was I thinking - agreeing so easily? I'm not high class, pureblooded, rich.

Oh, come off it Granger. I take a deep breath and try to center myself. Breathe. Feel. I reach out for the coin, feel my magic curl comfortingly around it. It's been two weeks since I last saw Narcissa, and my proficiency in wandless magic has improved dramatically. I submitted my proposal for new workshops a few days ago - a series of classes on the merfolk and their culture that I think should help to bridge the gap between our people. That, alongside not being allowed to continue my research into Bellatrix, means I haven't had much to do other than practice. It certainly doesn't help that work tends to run slow around this time of year - either it's too cold for people to easily infringe on magical creatures' territories, or the holidays take up too much of everyone's time.

Either way, it means that I've gotten faster and more proficient at controlling my magic without a wand. In fact, I often find myself not in need of a wand at all. I don't think I could fight without one, and some of the spells I don't use very often are a little sketchy (I accidentally cut my desk when trying to Diffindo a piece of parchment.), but I'm confident enough to leave my wand behind for the ball tonight.

The ball which I am stalling going to by practicing wandless magic. Just one last look in the mirror won't waste too much time, right? I'm going to arrive on time, anyway.

No. I'm going now. I walk over to the small silver emblem of a pine branch - the portkey Narcissa owled, presumably to everyone who RSVPed - and touch it to be whisked away to Nice.

Portkey travel is never pleasant , but the landing for this trip is surprisingly soft. I manage to keep the stumbling to a minimum, at any rate. I look up to see I've arrived in a small fenced-in area, just inside the property of what I assume is the vineyard.

A quick glance around confirms it. Narcissa has timed this such that the starting time is in the late afternoon - when the setting sun casts a warm golden glow across the rows of grape plants on the other side of the wrought iron fence, and the sky is painted in hues of orange and red and purple. I hadn't considered it, but magic must allow them to grow year-round, as the plants are still green and healthy despite the cold. It's gorgeous, just looking out across the seemingly endless rows of plants. I can see why she chose this location.

"Why am I not surprised that you are the first to arrive?" Narcissa's voice comes from behind me, sounding amused. I turn to greet her, only to pause for a moment. I've seen Narcissa in her day-to-day robes, which are of incredible quality and style on their own, but I've never seen her try to look her best. She is, literally, stunning.

Her hair is tied up in a loose bun, held together by a long, thin silver pin. It's clearly the kind of accessory designed to be used as a weapon if needed, something I imagine Narcissa has owned for quite some time. Her dress, though, is deadly in its own right. It sits on just one shoulder, clinging almost skintight as it falls down to mid-thigh, where it opens in a slit on her left leg and falls in a loose skirt to her ankles. The fabric is predominantly black, but with a shimmer to it that catches the reds and purples of the sunset - something I'm quite sure she planned.

After a moment, I realize I'm staring and pull myself back together. "Cissa, you're... gorgeous." I step forward, but even I can tell my tone is... perhaps a bit too reverent. Analyze that later, Granger. If she notices, Narcissa doesn't react. Instead, she extends her hand to me in a gesture I recognize. I grasp her hand and gently press my lips to her knuckles. "Thank you for having me, Madame Black."