The Plight- Malfoy x Reader

Phony of the Opera

What opera isn't violent?
Two things happen, violence and love.
And other than that, name something else.
You can't.
-C. Calloway

——
I sat in an opera balcony observing the people below me.

The audience chittered amongst themselves like birds, all of them looking as though they—themselves—were performing for each other. Gestures too elegant to be candid; laughs too enhanced to be genuine.

Posturing over authenticity.

There was a sea of elbow length gloves and expensive fabrics and bows ties and shiny shoes. Some hair was styled so high I wondered if it'd block the view of the people sitting behind them.

Everyone looked...perfect.

Too perfect.

The two men sitting next to me were no exception.

Otto's hair was combed back and his closely fitted velvet suit coat was adorned with a diamond broach.

Lucius wore an all black suit and a cape of subtle silver designs that shimmered in the light. His hair was unbound but it somehow stayed unruffled, even when met with nature's elements—like the strong wind as we walked up to the opera house. The gloved hand that held his cane in front of him was spotless. As though he'd never lifted a finger to touch anything with them.

This much primping for an event where the lights would be off a majority of the time made the whole thing seem frivolous.

Lucius and I had barley said a word to each other since arriving—I'd put up a fight when he demanded I attend. As always, it was a choice between extending my sentence or doing what he wanted.

So I bitterly squeezed myself into a pair of heels and the new dress that had been laid on the bed by none other than the prison warden himself. A string of pearls was also ceremoniously placed on my vanity table with a pair of studs to match.

I walked down the stairs and he'd nodded in approval when I reached the bottom, glancing at the pearl necklace.

I couldn't help myself when I said, "I think you forgot something."

He frowned in question and I proceeded to ask where the tag and leash were, and whether or not this was the kind of collar that would shock me when I barked.

He found my remark anything but amusing.

The rest of the journey to the opera house we barley breathed a word to each other, his conversation directed only to his eldest son, which was fine by me.

Silence had become the norm of dinners the past two days—and Draco had begun actively ignoring me. He hadn't explained why but I could easily deduce Lucius had told him about my sneaking out to see Theo.

He looked pissed every time he noticed my presence.

But that was fine with me because I was pissed at him too—and my reason was actually valid and sensible.
I'd become even more livid when I found out he'd been invited to a quidditch game with some diplomat's son on the eve of the opera—I envied his excuse.

So now all three of us sat in our own little balcony box in silence.

I stood up after I finished surveying the insanely embellished amphitheater and it's patrons, and giving a good amount of thought to who was the most likely to die should the huge chandelier fall on the audience.

"I'm going to go find the bathroom," I said passively looking down at Lucius.

He looked skeptical at the prospect.