Call Me Psyche - Dramione

6

With so much cinnamon and cloves cooking away in manor, Draco could hardly smell the lingering stench of cursed reptile anymore. This wasn't the reason for his uncommonly good mood at the opening of his parents' Christmas Eve party, but it did add to it.

"This is more like it," his mother said, smoothing the nap of the velvet jacket she liked him to wear on winter holidays. "Look at your son, Lucius. Bright eyed and square-shouldered. He's looking like himself again. Which is to say, looking like YOU."

Pacing before the hearth in Narcissa's room, Lucius glanced at Draco. "Yes, amazing what a little – fresh air can do."

He hadn't mentioned anything to Narcissa yet, but Greyback had reported on his surveillance of Draco, and now it was widely known that he had indeed been meeting witches on his nightly outings. It wasn't a story they'd concocted as cover, but an unsettling fact. Lucius would discuss it with Draco later, after they survived this charade of a celebration.

Downstairs, the door chimes sounded again. By now, there would be a large enough crowd for the Malfoy family to make a grand entrance. In unison, they apparated to the ballroom as the fireplace and all the candelabras roared with tall, green flames. All eyes turned to see the Malfoys looking stately and serene in spite of stories about atrocities happening in this house. It was exactly the reassurance the Dark Lord had envisioned.

After a bow of welcome, the three of them dispersed among their guests, Draco went to his old schoolmates. Pansy Parkinson threaded her arm through his, pecking a kiss on his cheek.

"Draco, thank the stars you're alright," she said, wiping her burgundy lipstick from his face with her thumb.

Blaise Zabini smacked him hard on the shoulder. "Good to see you, mate. Rumour at school was that you're catatonic, bed ridden. A proper invalid."

Draco huffed. "Yeah, they wish." He squinted through the crowd. "Truth is, I'm better than ever. Where's Crabbe and Goyle."

Pansy groaned, rolling her eyes. "Don't call them over here. Please."

Theo Nott was shouldering into their conversation, a glass of champagne in one hand and glass for Draco in the other. "Turns out there was only ever one brain in the Malfoy-Crabbe-Goyle trio. And you've got sole custody of it, Draco. Left the pair of them without any sense at all. Not just stupid or reckless, downright dangerous."

"Yeah, they're doing the new professors' dirty work. The Carrows have been setting them up as scapegoats for all sorts of violence," Blaise explained. "Casting unforgivables on kids in the name of school discipline. It's unheard of."

Draco frowned hard at where Crabbe and Goyle stood across the ballroom. They were both nodding gravely, trying to follow the conversations of Anton Dolohov and his ilk, the Malfoys' rivals among the Death Eater ranks.

"You've got to talk sense to them, Draco," Pansy said. "I thought this movement was supposed to be about something besides rampant bullying."

Theo gave a snort and downed his drink.

Without drinking a drop, Draco set his glass back down on a serving tray as it floated by.

"Come on. No one's dancing," Pansy said, tugging harder on Draco's arm. "We've got to get them started. Look at your mother's eyebrows. She's signaling you to do exactly that."

Draco re-squared his shoulders and led Pansy to the dancefloor. Others joined in, as if waiting for his cue, not sure whether it was appropriate to dance at the end of a year as bloody as this one.

As Draco and Pansy settled into the easy rhythm, the light box step, she ran her thumb along the edge of his high collar. "You're going to want to refresh this concealing spell," she said. "I'm beginning to see someone's loving signature on your neck."