Magic and Mystery Coil by Allegory_for_Hatred

Waltz

The annual Malfoy Winter Ball officially welcomed guests at five P.M. on the last Saturday of December.

But the preparation for such an extravagant party actually took several laborious hours to set-up. At two, the kitchen staff began preparing meals. Juicy hams, glazed with honey and brown sugar, glistened in the oven's heat. Biscuits were kneaded and proofed several hours in advance. Alcohol was sorted and set, so guests could be served with ease upon arrival. Then at three, the ballroom was cleared. Tables were pushed to the sides, so guests would have room to dance and mingle. By four, the Malfoy family had donned their fanciest robes and pasted on their falsest smiles. Four-thirty had Narcissa Malfoy running their doorman through the guest list for the fourth time in as many hours. At four-forty-five, eager-to-please guests would slowly start to trickle in. Finally, five P.M. struck, and the party began in earnest.

Mori, Kouyou, and Dazai arrived no later than three-thirty.

The doorman wasn't at his post, yet, so they were faced instead with a sternly shut door. It was a grand doorway—ornate wood and a curling brass handle—and it towered over Dazai several heads. It was predictably locked, and their knock hadn't been answered now for several moments.

Dazai shivered against the cold. The back of his neck was freezing where Mori had trimmed his hair short a few night prior. His new coat was long, black, and stiff—Mori's hand-me-down and too long for it. But how he wore it draped over his shoulders offered little protection from the bitter winter cold. At least Mori hadn't asked him to wear a dress today. Those frilly, Victorian things offered even less protection from the weather.

He peered up at Mori, who was staring at the door like he expected it to open itself.

"You should have called ahead."

Mori hummed, apparently unconcerned.

"Freezing to death isn't terrible... but the frostbite will hurt," Dazai continued. "Can I break in through the window?"

Kouyou shot him an unimpressed look that Dazai received with a pout.

Admittedly, Dazai wasn't overly familiar with the red-haired woman. He'd seen her around. Heard some about her. But before a few days ago, he'd never been able to really speak with her. Though, Father was dead now, and Kouyou seemed about as pleased with that fact as Dazai was, so she wasn't all terrible. Besides, he ought to at least try to get along with his fellow executive.

"You're not allowed to die or break the window," Mori told him.

Dazai sighed, terribly aggrieved. Then, "Can Golden Demon break the window?"
"No," Kouyou said. She had one sleeve raised to cover her mouth, but Dazai got the impression she wasn't hiding a smile. To Mori, she intoned, "your protégé is rather uppity."

Dazai huffed.

Mori only smiled. "Even though it wasn't in an official capacity, Dazai has been acting on Port Mafia's behalf for over a year, now. Perhaps acting out is how he best gets results?" he mused lightly. "It's suiting, for one his age."

Kouyou nodded sagely. "A flower with thorns," she said. "You'd best clip them before you get cut."

Mori seemed unbothered by the comparison and advice both. He raised a fist to rap the door again, more insistent.

Knock-knock-knock-knock.

The sound echoed for a long few seconds.

Then, through the door Dazai heard the sound of hurrying steps pounding down the hall. Someone's shoes squeaked as they slid to a stop. A second later the door suddenly swung open.

A short, freckled girl wearing servant's robes panted and grasped the door frame for support.

"Damian, finally! I told you to fetch more wine an hour ago—Hhhh!"