The Potion Princess

The Dark Lord

The limousine they ordered pulls up to the Malfoy Manor without a sound. Audra accepts the hand reaching down to help her out and slides out onto the gravel sidewalk, staring around at the long lane lit by lamp posts and iron gates. They could have apparated or used floo powder, but her mother decided to go for the more dramatic entrance. Sometimes, Audra knows, it's better to shine than be subtle.

"Ms. Stanton." Draco appears at her side and sweeps down into an exaggerated bow. He straightens back up with a smile, the kind that you see between two people who've developed an easy type of friendship. "May I escort you to the grand festivities that await?"

Audra laughs, and takes the arm that he offered. "You may."

The door flies open when he reaches the top steps, saving her the bother of knocking and waiting for one of the house elves to let her in. A second later Audra's glad that she has her cousin's arm to hold onto. She doesn't think she'd be able to make it through the shock of the grandeur and sheer amount of people inside if she hadn't been holding onto his arm.

The party, technically, was for her, to make up for the uncelebrated birthday that had passed back in February. It was hard to be disappointed in the turn out, even if the sheer magnitude of the effort that they had gone to- heavy oak tables, leather sofas surrounding a great stone fireplace, floating candles and sparkling light. There is music floating from invisible speakers, classical (her mother probably picked it out) and a table overflows with food. There's a fountain flowing with wine that the adults are already dipping their glasses into, and another seeping chocolate, which Draco leaves her to join Crabbe and Goyle at.

Her birthday is an excuse, she amends later, after she's accepted compliments and smiled and had her fill of both the wine and the chocolate. It's an excuse for them all together someplace where they can hope to impress the man who will never be pleased, the women dripping jewels and the men oozing power. It was never about her at all.

"You made it!" Emmeline shrieks from across the room. She's in a blood red dress and has diamonds woven through her hair, making her shimmer every time the light falls on her. Her eyes are darting around the room like a wounded animal, but the smile on her face is real, and when she finally weaves her way across the room to her, she stuffs a tiara down on her head. "So everyone knows that tonight is about you," she explains.

They eat dinner, which Audra decided to turn into one giant serving of dessert. Her friends follow her lead, and the adults smile at them indulgently, because you can get away with these things when you're young and beautiful and more than a bit of a spoiled brat. Then someone drags her to the couch for presents, and it is an endless cycle of surprise and smiles and shiny things- jewelry and dresses, books and shining potions equipment, throwing knives and mysterious powders and one expensive bottle of brandy that's warm to the touch, tickets to the wizarding orchestra and VIP passes to a weird sisters concert. She says thank you after each of them, and they all wave her thanks away like it was nothing- and to them this was nothing, nothing to acquire these meetings with powerful people and goblin made accessories and slightly illegal things.

"You aren't going to dance?" Snape appears at her side like a shadow melting off the wall. His lips curls up in distaste, like people doing something as frivolous and extravagant as dancing, but Audra just smiles and leans back against the wall. She is still wearing the tiara.

"Not right now. Just watching." It was nice to watch, to feel the swell of the music and watch the party evolve, like dusk turning into night. Laughter rings out like the clink of crystal, and the food turns into crumbs. There are splatters of chocolate and drips of wine on everyone's arms, but their faces are still painted and dresses still pristine. On the dance floor, skirts swirl and fall as the women are twirled in their partners arms. "They certainly went to a lot of trouble for this."