MASQUERADE PART SIX Who: Everyone who bought a ticket! Where: Artemis Theatre, Diagon Alley When: 9:00 pm October 31 - 1:00 am November 1, 1979 What: A Masquerade Ball for the Foundation for the Promotion of Wizarding Society and Culture, hosted by the Malfoys
"You should," Aloysius said happily. "They're quite fascinating to read, especially the first time through when you don't know the solution. The challenge of trying to figure it all out from the clues you're given is quite fun." He gave her a curious look then he realised why she might be a touch busy. "Ah, I gather you're getting married quite soon then? My parents did say that before the wedding it seemed like there weren't enough hours in the day in which to get things done. But they managed so I'm sure you will too."
"December," Astra supplied automatically, then realised that that might be too much of a clue to her identity. Oh, well, she could hardly be the only one getting married in December, and did it really matter if he figured out who she was anyway? Only if he bore some kind of ill-will toward her or her family... or the Lestranges... which admittedly was more people than she liked the idea of, but he didn't seem like a vigilante. He was too intelligent for that. "I'm trying to remember that nothing is a matter of life and death, though. Ultimately I'm sure no one will care what shade of off-white the napkins are."
"Ah, a winter wedding. Should be nice," Aloysius said. He made a mental note to keep an eye on the journals and see if he could figure out who it was. It would be a nice distraction from the more serious things he did and given what he was up to he could do with the light relief. Perhaps he could even have a little joke with her if he figured out who she was. "Not that I have any experience with weddings. I think my mother would like me to have experience, preferably personal experience, but thankfully she gets easily distracted and only tends to remember about once a year. Less even."
What was he, in his thirties? Older? It was hard to tell based solely on build and voice and gait, but Astra was quite sure that he was older than her, and older than Marius or Rabastan or any of the other still-unmarried men she ever associated with. For that matter he could well be twice the age of Regulus and Julianne! "I suspect marriage is more highly regarded where I'm from," she understated, drily. "It's not something I ever thought of as a chore to be avoided."
Aloysius frowned slightly though it was hidden by his mask. "Well, it's not that I don't like the idea of marriage or consider it a chore," he said thoughtfully. "It's just... well, I work a great deal and I suppose I'm not the easiest of men to live with so I don't want to marry just anyone." He chuckled ruefully. "I think it would be a remarkable woman who could cope with me. And my work. And my books. And my snake. And still be in love with me." He left out the whole sleeping with men thing in general and Pepper in particular. He somehow doubted this young woman would understand about that. In fact he wasn't sure many women would, which made his search all the more difficult. "So I sort of know what I'm looking for... an intelligent, tolerant, fascinating woman who will be my friend, my partner, my lover and my wife. I'm sure she's out there, I just haven't found her yet." Of course, finding such a woman would probably require leaving work more often than he did which added to the difficulty level... not that he was looking right now. It really wasn't the right time.
Aloysius was correct in that Astra would have been quite perturbed by the "sleeping with men" part. A mistress was one thing, though as her engagement to Marius had progressed she'd become less inclined towards the idea, perhaps because she was getting to know him as a person and partner now, rather than an idea - but that, at least, was a woman. To have your husband-- it didn't even bear thinking about. If she were in that situation and ever found out, she'd be completely humiliated. Luckily his spoken words were more amusing than shocking and she found it easy to smile teasingly and reply, "So your standards are not high at all, then! If you ever settle on one of the thousands that I'm sure meet your extraordinarily low criteria you'd do well not to tell her so or she might feel quite drab."
Aloysius laughed. "Well, I've never really understood the obsession with external beauty. In my opinion, the mind is the most beatiful part of a person. A quick, intelligent and agile mind is far more attractive than anything external. So I suppose my standards aren't that low. I would rather have a woman who can keep up with me mentally and verbally when I start talking about the books I read and the theories I'm working on than just someone who was just... well, pretty." He cocked his head to one side thoughtfully. "Beauty fades after all. Intelligence just gets better." It never occured to him that his words could possibly be considered vaguely insulting if taken in the wrong way. It was just the truth as he saw it after all. It was what had draw him to Pepper after all - the man's agile mind, active wit and intelligence. It was why he could admire Jo the way he did - she was intelligent and sharp as a knife.
"Physical attraction does make a partnership easier, though, otherwise surely you'd simply be very good friends. Though you're right that if I had to choose, I would most likely pick someone I could talk to over someone who looked well." Astra absolutely did not think about Severus as she said this - though she was finding that easier, these days. There were still so many moments when it crept up on her, but Marius was a good salve for healing wounds.
Aloysius shook his head. "I honestly don't care about looks. I'm considered to be attractive. A friend of mine even likes to tease me by calling me pretty. I've had people make approaches when I go out." The fact that he often didn't realise he was being hit on until well after the other person had given up in despair was completely beside the point right now. "They don't know me but they think I'm worth something solely based on my looks. It's utterly ridiculous and superficial. No, I don't judge a person on how they look. I'd want to get to know them, get to know their personality and intelligence, what they're like as a person before I'd even think about marriage. And if they were smart and witty and just right then what they look like is irrelevant."
It was not a perspective Astra had strongly considered in the past - it might have been different, if she had dated enough to have any real experience, but at school it had never gone beyond group outings, everyone who might have been interested in her understanding that she was being kept for "better things". Or at least, understanding that her brother was rather overprotective and had friends like Demetrius. As it was, she understood in a vague way that low-born men often lied and deceived women in order to take things that a lady oughtn't give, but... physical beauty was just another of those things that was weighed and considered when ranking people for matches. Attractiveness was a sign of health after all, was it not? And that was a trait that people wished to pass on. "I suppose it would be a problem," she conceded, "when people don't know what each other's intentions are. But then there are so very many problems when a couple wants different things that sometimes I think it's a surprise anyone ever manages to get to the marriage stage when it's not organised straight-forwardly from the beginning."
Aloysius raised an eyebrow. Was she talking about an arranged marriage? If so that and her matter-of-fact response put her squarely into the pureblood basket. And from the sound of it she'd been well and truly indoctrinated by the men in her life to be meek and submissive and accept that it was 'right'. Such a pity that they did that. Why would anyone want a wife that wasn't intelligent and her own woman? "That's what dating's for," he said dryly. "Getting to know each other and find out what each other wants out of a relationship. You see, men and women talk when they date and find out about each other and whether they like each other. If their interests and ambitions don't coincide, they go their separate ways, no harm done. They don't have to worry about being married to someone they dislike or inflicting their dislike of each other onto any children."
"I'd never marry someone I didn't like," Astra replied, surprised enough to almost falter in the movements of the dance - though perhaps not enough to be noticeable to an amateur like her partner. "And my father would never think to make me. I was asked my opinion even before he was. It's hardly a barbarous custom where women are virtually sold off to the highest bidder, I don't think I know anyone who didn't agree to it, and all the marriages I've been close enough to see into are based on genuine love and respect. Even an engagement can be broken if they find they simply can't get along."
Aloysius was tempted to argue. Oh, how he was tempted to argue. But he had a sneaking suspicion that this girl... and she was a girl no matter how old she actually was... was so indoctrinated and so blind to any other way of life that she just wouldn't understand. This girl would always be a girl he suspected, particularly in comparison to women like Jo and Emmeline. They were vibrant and alive whereas as this girl was... well, probably decorative and demure. Boring, his mind supplied and he forced himself not to snicker. He wasn't dancing with Pepper after all... and there was an amusing mental image. "Well, my parents found each other without any help and have been happily married for decades so I guess there are many different ways that work," he said with a blandness that the aforementioned Pepper would have leapt upon with glee and decided to change the subject. "I believe you said that you liked to read. What are you reading currently?"
She wanted to argue that she and Marius probably would not have found each other if not for their parents, so clearly he was correct that many different ways worked - not simply his own just as much as not simply hers. But, she reminded herself, just because there were so many people here who weren't raised well, didn't mean she had to behave poorly herself, so she accepted the change of subject with grace, so that at least she could be proud of her actions later. "A friend sent me a copy of Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen, though I don't normally read romance. I had been studying healing texts and charms before I started to get too busy. I think I still have an article on the best treatment of splinching amputations half-read somewhere." Probably at her parents' house, which was no longer even her home, really - thanks to the Ministry. That thought jolted her free of the conversation enough to note that they'd spoken through most of two dances - this one would likely end in a couple more minutes, long enough for only a little more small-talk. Preferably the non-judgemental kind.
"I read that some years ago," Aloysius said with a smile. "It's quite entertaining. I always liked Lizzy Bennett." He was tempted to add more but decided that explaining that the reason he liked Lizzy was that she was willing to say no to not one but two marriage proposals because they weren't appropriate probably wasn't a good idea. "Do you have ambitions to be a Healer? I know they can always do with more good Healers at St Mungos."
Given that Eliza was rather the more theoretical, headstrong of the sisters, Astra felt that expressing her preference for Jane would probably be a trap. Not that she cared what this man thought of her, but-- she was still unwilling to let herself walk into a conversation in which she would likely be mocked, however subtly. Instead she focused on his question, knowing she could not tell the truth - 'not an official one, sir, I simply mean to be able to Heal my friends when bloodtraitors and Muggleborns catch them in battle'. "Perhaps so. It's a satisfying line of work, though rather time consuming. I may see if there's a way to lighten the weight of the training and instead take longer to complete it." Finally the music was ending, she thought - yes, those were the last strains, and she deliberately slowed her movements into stillness and drew away to curtsey politely. "Thank you for the dance. It was most interesting talking to you."
She wanted to take longer to complete it? Aloysius was a bit surprised about that then the light dawned. Ah, she was a hobbyist. It wasn't a true calling, like most of the other healers he'd met who often had to be dragged out of the hospital forcibly when their shift was over. He felt disppointed for a moent then dismissed it. If she was a pureblood then she was really just a glorified brood mare in the eyes of her society so a hobbyist is probably all she could ever be. "Perhaps a private tutor may be best for that," he said mildly. "I think the ones at St Mungos prefer the dedicated." The music came to an end and he felt a little relief. It was a bit like talking to someone from a different planet. Give him the more down to earth women like Jo and Emmelin and Dorcas any day. "Indeed," he said as he bowed to her in return. He then offered his arm. "May I escort you back to a seat?"
Astra hesitated, tempted to decline, though she had no real reason to other than her distaste for his attitude towards her. Instead she nodded, taking his arm smoothly. She would calm down a little before going to find some better company. "Thank you, Monsieur."
Severus and Lily The music finished and Severus gave a brief bow to his current dance partner. He had managed to not step on her toes, embarrass himself or to be required to discuss anything deeper than the weather, the lovely decorations and how nice the music was. As this was not the first time he'd had this conversation tonight, he was rather tired of it, but luckily for him, his beard hid the grimace that he inevitably made when the conversation turned to the "lovely" band. He'd been rather pleased with how his costume had turned out. He thought he did give the effect of Zeus, with a dark brown toga, a deep brown and far more full than anything he could have grown beard covered his face, and between that and his mask, he was fairly certain the only thing that would have been truly likely to give him away would have been his nose. Of course, as the mask covered it, that was less true.
He was wondering if he'd danced enough to be able to simply sit out the rest of the dances. He could find Demetrius and get off of the dance floor. It seemed likely as well that whatever it was the Order was actually up to, it would be less likely to effect him if he was not on the dance floor. He'd wanted a dance with Lily, if she were there, but he hadn't seen anyone that he thought looked like her, and he had kept his eyes open for a flash of red hair under a mask, or a hat, or green eyes behind them. He was also masochistic enough to ponder asking Astra, and she he had spotted far more easily. With a fiance as tall as Marius Lestrange and a best friend as tall as Corbina, he had simply looked between the taller people in the room until he'd found someone whose mannerisms and movements matched Astra's. But as he stepped off the dance floor, his eyes gazing in her direction, she looked occupied, and he was uncertain that Marius would allow a dance, if he suspected it were Severus asking.
Removing his focus from Astra he turned back around and nearly stepped into a woman in a full pink dress and a butterfly mask. Severus cursed the fact that he had not been paying attention to where he was going.
"Excuse me, I'm quite sorry," the niceties rolled off of his tongue and he looked up into eyes that made him look twice. They were the wrong colour, but the shape and the emotion behind them felt right. He hesitated, not dropping his gaze from hers.
Lily had danced with several people. Some she had known early on were not Death Eaters, but she had suspected several and reported them to other members of the order. For the most part, Lily was enjoying herself and busy spinning in circles and having a wonderful time using all the mannerisms that her mother-in-law had taught her. She knew that Mrs. P would be proud of her. Lily was proud of her disguise. Not only were the pink, fluffy attributes enough to keep people from suspecting her, she felt certain that her charmed hair and eyes would keep her from all possible detection.
She didn't recognize Severus at first when he bumped into her, but as he apologised she looked right at him and their eyes locked. Her name was on her lips but she pursed them instead, her fingers going sweaty in the long silver gloves. "That's quite alright," she said, attempting to make her voice sound lower. "You didn't hurt me at all." Her eyes flicked to look past him, afraid to look at him, but also too careful to merely run away. She had to be smooth, she had to look like a purist. "I hope you are not injured, sir?"
Severus's eyes flickered to her hair, which was dark, but a charm could do that, he thought quickly. It was the action that was confusing him. Not that Lily had bad manners, but the 'sir' and the way in which she spoke wasn't like her. It was more like something he would have expected from Astra, or from Julianne. If it were Lily, what was she doing here, exactly? And was it risky to ask her? But then, if it were Lily, he would hate himself if he did not ask. And he was confident enough of his ability to remain aware of himself tonight. His brow furrowed slightly behind his mask, but he was certain enough to ask - oh, not the direct question, which would have defeated the purpose of the masquerade to begin with - but the obvious one.
"May I have this dance?" He asked, his own voice dropping a bit lower than normal, although he knew if it were her, she would have recognised him from his first statement.
If it were her, it was the question he had wanted to ask three years ago at the Christmas ball, but he hadn't had the courage to do it then, afraid of what Potter would have said, and indeed what Lily herself would have said. If it were her, and she knew it was him, would she say yes? Manners dictated that she had to, or she had to allow him to sit out with her. Although they did not come natural to him, Severus easily remembered that much, and he glanced back to her eyes, gazing at her steadily, waiting. His heart was pounding more than it should have been. Perhaps it wasn't her; The colouring was certainly all wrong. But the eyes felt right.
Lily could tell that he knew it was her. He hadn't even answered her question, he'd gone straight for the dance. She had worked hard to perfect her mannerisms and learn exactly what she ought to do. If she were to just leave him now she'd blow all of that away, make a fool out of her own act. She wondered how he knew, and wondered if somehow she had been betrayed. But he hadn't known it was her right away, had he?
Her head felt heavy but she slowly nodded at his request. "Yes, of course," she said. She didn't smile brightly at him as she had at the other men who had asked her. Lily knew that Severus had to be one of the reasons why he was so unhappy at her coming to the ball, and just now she didn't blame him. Yes, they had spoken and when she had been angry at James she had almost agreed to seeing Severus agian. But she couldn't. They couldn't be friends any longer, not with the decisions he had made. "How kind of you to ask me," she said, looking at his shoulder instead of directly at him.
Severus held out his hand, grateful suddenly for gloves. Unlike every other dance, where the nerves had been directly abated by the knowledge that they did not know who he was, he did not ever have to see them again, and he was a reasonably talented dancer - if not likely to win any awards for the activity, he was also not likely to step on anyone's toes. But unlike all of those, this might be Lily. And the more he looked at her, the more certain he was that it was her. After all, the charms could change her hair colour, her eye color, remove the freckles from her shoulders, but the posture, the height, the build of her body, was all Lily, and Severus knew it far better than anyone - with the exception of perhaps James Potter, although he didn't like to spend time thinking on that - having spent years simultaneously admiring and desiring her.
He gave her a brief smile, which still felt odd to him with the beard covering his face. "It is my pleasure," he said easily, guiding her back out onto the dance floor and praying that he would not mess this up. It should have been easier. She was married, and she hated him. There was no likelihood of her rejecting him further than she already had done, but he was irrationally anxious regardless.
"Have you been enjoying the dance?" he inquired, moving to face her so that he could place one hand on her waist as the music began. He moved his other hand in hers. The slender fingers covered by gloves felt like the hand he'd watched make potions a dozen times, and he was more certain than he had been before. She might be trying not to admit to it, but it was her. "I am certain a woman as lovely as you has had no shortage of partners," he added. The comment was such that would have been expected, and he had made similar ones to his other partner, but he glanced directly at her eyes as he said it, adding an extra emphasis and sincerity that the other comments had not held.
Lily eyed his beard and his shoulder, taking care to not look up at him too much. She was afraid that she might be overcome by a strong emotion. Not, as Severus might wish, love or passion, but anger, confusion, and frustration. He was always a mix of emotions for her, and for once in her life Lily would not be able to just leave him when he upset her. She was used to that upper hand -- if he upset her she could just apparate away, or flee, or do anything. But tonight she was an actress, and she had a part to play, even if he had already seen past her act.
"Very much so," she said smoothly, still keeping her voice lower. She wondered when or if Severus would make it clear that he knew who she was. "And you are too kind." Her eyes flicked up at his for a moment. How silly he looked with his beard. "I do love dancing, don't you?" she said, afraid to dive into any deeper subjects with him.
Possibly as much as anything else, the fact that she refused to look up at him would have given her away. Severus sighed inwardly, his hand placing enough pressure on her waist to guide her around the floor - it was very likely the only opportunity he would ever have to tell Lily where to go - and kept a smile on his lips. He so hated everything that had come between them. And he wondered if whatever it was she was doing with Death Eaters, because he knew she had to be there doing something with them, she would attempt on him. After all, if she knew who he was, and his eyes were not so changed, she knew he was a Death Eater.
"Not at all," he said smoothly. "Your hair is particularly lovely tonight," he said, his eyes glancing to the darker brown hair. And with the tiniest of smirks he added quickly. "Although I am certain tonight does not hold a candle to its everyday luster. But I do love dancing," he moved on quickly. "And so far my partners have been very forgiving of my faults," he faltered, wondering suddenly if he should have chosen a different turn of phrase. The statement had been intended to be light, but with Lily, it was far heavier for all of the mistakes made between them. He glided her past a couple that didn't look as if they knew what they were doing. "I trust you have had a successful evening."
"You dance very well, sir," she said. Her tone light and carefree. "I am unaware of the faults you must imagine." Easy conversation, easy replies that she could make to anyone who said the same thing to her. She looked at him in the eye after the comment about the dancing. "I am sure, sir, that you must be mistaking me with someone else." She had to at least pretend like she thught he might be unsure as to who she was.
When he made a comment about 'successfulness' she almost slipped, but merely gave a kind smile. "I can have no greater success than a pleasant evening," she said. Did he know why she had come?
Severus raised an eyebrow behind the mask, but he said nothing and turned her once more. Of course she wasn't going to come out and say 'yes, and so far I've taken down three Death Eaters, and you're my fourth,' was she then? And he didn't even know for certain that she was doing anything with them, but it was probable. And the dance was sliding away, too quickly, he thought. He wondered if he asked her for a second dance, if she would agree as well, but if she did actually have some reason for being there, he supposed it was better to let her do it, and to not give her multiple opportunities to involve him.
He shifted his hand just slightly, briefly wondering what it would be like to have the privilege of touching her every day, and just as quickly dismissing the thought to the back of his mind. He didn't. He never would have. And it was nothing but masochistic to consider it now, as well as possibly displaying a lack of respect for Lily. The thought had arrived unbidden, but it was not required to stay.
"And are you having a pleasant evening?" He inquired, his voice low and direct.
"Of course I am, aren't you?" she said. "How could one but have a wonderful evening on a night like this?" Her mind wandered to her first Halloween at Hogwarts. The pumpkins floating everywhere, running over to Slytherin's table to share a glass of pumpkin juice, tossing chocolate frogs right at him. They had shared wondrous times together in those early Hogwarts days, discovering so many things together, and here they were, years later, and although she was in his arms and their fingers touching through the gloves, Lily felt that they couldn't be further apart.
She felt his hand move on her waist, but it was nothing, it was of no consequence. All dancers shifted slightly while moving.
"I am now," he said, oddly honest and obviously sincere. He felt vulnerable making the statement, but it was nothing unusual for him to feel vulnerable around Lily. He supposed he should be used to the nervous, anxious feeling she inevitably created in the core of his being. No matter how many times he told himself that they would never have anything more, the hope still lurked, dormant some days, until something pushed it to the surface again. And no matter that he was more nervous with his arms around her than he had been all evening, it was still the best dance of his evening.
He wondered if he should try to keep talking to her, pushing her until something slipped, or merely grope for some safe topic of conversation - small talk. Should he get her a drink when the dance finished? He could at least accompany her to the refreshment table, perhaps.
"Have you seen a favourite costume or mask thus far?" he asked, choosing to not continue to push her. He knew. And before he left her, she would know he knew, and that was really all that mattered.
She could not miss the meaning behind his statement and again she almost said his name. It was incredible how after all she had done, he could still know who she was. She was sure James could do the same, but Sev ... After their years apart, it still surprised her that he could pick her out in only an instant.
"There was a lovely Queen of Hearts," Lily said, naming the costume that was in her peripheral vision. "And some delightful faeries. I believe I saw a peacock." She smiled weakly, but then brighter as she realized that some of the very men that she might need to dance with later on could be watching. She would be vivacious, even if she wasn't being herself. "And yourself, sir? Anything that has caught your eye?"
Severus shook his head. "Many of the costumes are so elaborate," he said thoughtfully catching the obvious attempt to smile more brightly. "They have so obviously had a great deal of time and effort placed into them. I am grateful I am not being required to judge between the different ones which one is best, or which one is most thorough. I suppose the real trick with a masquerade is whether or not you have fooled any one who ever knew you."
He knew the dance would end shortly and he wondered if he could give her something that would be useful, but then, he didn't know what she was here for. Perhaps distraction, or something information gathering? She obviously had gone to a bit of trouble to disguise herself, and from a distance - without reason to glance twice - Severus would not have recognised her. "I'm afraid I have probably failed that test, as I have already spoken with several of my friends," he gave her a mild smile.
"You have. And it seems I too have failed," Lily said, looking right into his eyes for a moment. It was, perhaps, the first time in seven years when she didn't audibly groan when he mentioned his friends, but she held her tongue. She stared into his eyes for a moment before she looked beyond his shoulder.
Severus shifted his hand in hers, suddenly absurdly nervous as she wiped away any doubt he might have had about her knowing. "It is more challenging to fool a friend than an acquaintenance or a stranger," he said, fighting to keep his voice utterly calm. He wanted to ask her a hundred things, to ask her to dance with him again, or to sit the next one out with him, but he knew that this was not the time or the place for the conversation he wanted to have.
And the music was drawing to an end and he spun her around a final time, slowing their steps as the final notes played, and then he was standing there facing her. "Thank you, miss," he said, bowing slightly and keeping up the pretense that they did not know each other at all. "May I escort you somewhere?" he added. "The powder room or refreshment table perhaps?"
Lily wanted to be around him for a little while longer, but she couldn't. There were things that she had to do and it was likely that prolonged exposure to Severus would only make her upset, so instead, she smiled kindly and shook her head. "It is kind of you to offer," she said, catching eyes with Dedalus, who happened near her. "But I am afraid I am neither in need of refreshments or to go anywhere else." She curtsied slightly. "I must take leave of you now."
Severus had not expected anything else, of course, but her decline of his offer hurt anyway. He gave a nod, his eyes glancing down now. "Then I shall be on my way." He glanced back up at her, and wished for the hundredth time that he had any life other than his own. He stepped to move past her, and impulsively he touched her hand as he passed, turning his head to her, he spoke in a voice so low that it would not be heard over the conversation that had begun between the dances. "Be careful," he stopped himself from using her name. She would have fooled him had they not run into each other, and he would not risk ruining her disguise. "And have a pleasant evening," he added in more normal tones, before stepping decisively towards the side of the room.
He was definitely going to sit the next dance out.
Samuel Greengrass and Pepper Pepper's nervousness about the actual do-or-die moments for placing the portkeys had decreased dramatically throughout the night, especially after the first couple he'd hoisted off. He was in the flow of it now; attention caught by another of their dancers, he ducked away from Jo again, passing them casually and close-by enough to catch the description of his next target. Waiting until he'd gone far enough past not to arouse suspicion, he paused to look around the room. Green tunic, green tunic... There was one, but the trousers and mask didn't match. His eyes moved quickly, pausing on some figures before moving on and finally alighting on his prey. Green tunic. Brown loose leggings. Venetian mask. Had to be him.
The man was just coming off the dancefloor, tossing some cheerful line over his shoulder, and Pepper started forward again, palming one of the remaining portkeys from the "money pouch" he'd added to the costume. "Scuse me;" he passed by a group of women talking. Ducked by a bored-looking boy in his late teens. Touched Mr Green Tunic lightly on the shoulder to support a movement with an off-hand, "Sorry, excuse me." The portkey slipped out of his hand, affixing itself to his target, and for a moment he waited to see whether the man would stop him as he walked away... Nope. He was several metres clear, and walked on further before turning in a wide circle to get back to where he'd left Jo, not even noticing that one of the dancers he passed was wearing a green tunic, loose brown leggings and a venetian mask.
Fenrir and Narcissa Fenrir wandered through the party, glad that his mask hid his expression of sheer and utter boredom. This was a bloody boring party. He felt that this this is what happened when you let purebloods organise a party. They were staid and boring and proper. A proper party had a hell of a lot more alcohol, a hell of a lot more food and a hell of a lot more fun. The party was also straining his admittedly limited self-control. He'd had to dredge up the manners his mother had taught him years ago and he was actually kind of surprised that he'd actually remembered any of them.
He paused and finished off his drink, placing the empty glass on a passing tray. He then looked aorund and decided to scare up a bit of entertainment on his own. He walked over to the nearest woman standing on her own and grinned as he gave a rather florid bow, the colourfulness of his costume offsetting the death's head mask and the death's head staff he was carrying. "May I have this dance?"
"And thank you as well." Narcissa said with a smile and nod, finally excusing herself from a lengthy conversation with the director of St. Mungo’s Hospital. Incidentally, he was a terrible dancer as well, but one simply did not say such things. Taking a deep breath, she enjoyed the momentary solitude. No doubt someone would come in a second to inquire about the Foundation, or offer her more alcoholic beverages (No, thank you!)
Turning at the sound of a voice, Narcissa lifted her mask to lightly rub the bridge of her nose. It would be simply dreadful to have some sort of red mark there after all of this. Carefully replacing her mask, she restrained herself from shivering at the costume – a clown and some sort of deathly thing, and forced a smile. "Yes, thank you" The familiar response rolled off her tongue. "I would very much like that."
Fenrir had never been more grateful for the mask he was wearing right now. It hid the broad, almost feral grin that he was wearing as he recognised the voice of the woman he'd just asked to dance. Really the blonde hair should have tipped him off but blonde hair wasn't exactly unusual. The voice was unmistakable though. Narcissa Malfoy. He'd just asked Narcissa Malfoy to dance. This could be a lot of fun. Mostly in terms of how long it was going to take her to recognise him. He'd been working hard to keep his speech polite and that meant he was talking more how he remembered his father's speech patterns, rather than his own. Maybe he have to accidentally slip up while they were dancing just to see how she reacted.
He offered her his hand and lead her out onto the dance floor, quickly dredging up the steps of the dance. He mostly remembered them and figured he'd just keep an eye on the others dancing to pick up the rest. It wasn't like Narcissa would be able to tell with this mask and she'd be too polite under the circumstances to complain. "Are you enjoying the masquerade?" he asked, deliberately making it sound as though he didn't know who she was.
Narcissa's lips quirked as she took his hand. Could it be really be possible she was dancing with someone who had no idea of her identity? Even after seeing her face. How incredibly... interesting. Even Grady Bell, that mudblood from some farm in Ireland, had known who she was. "Yes," she replied after a momentary pause, debating whether to say something along the lines of 'I am Narcissa Malfoy and this is MY PARTY' or simply pretend to be another partygoer. "I am enjoying it; quite a bit in fact. Events like these don't happen every day, do they?"
"And are you having a nice time as well?" Narcissa asked politely, turning as the music began. Really, she thought to herself, they ought to have been given more lessons as children on how to dance with entirely inept partners. But then, the general assumption was that dances took place among the pureblood community, in which most everyone was competent. She was realising that she was not particularly fond of having to dance with masked strangers and having their hands on her waist and having to making conversation with those entirely unskilled in the art of it. "The turnout is excellent- it really does seem like all of London is here. And those from quite a ways off, of course."
Fenrir slowly began to ease into the dance, picking up the moves he'd forgotten from watching others and his werewolf agility coming into play. He still wasn't very good but at least he wasn't stepping on Narcissa's toes. That she was irritated that he apparently didn't recognise her wouldn't have surprised him at all. Amused him but not surprised him. "You wouldn't want them to... surely," he said, remembering his father's fondness for adding that to the end of sentences. "They'd get boring and humdrum."
Fuck, he hated being polite. He knew there was a reason he stayed away from purebloods most of the time. They were boring and uptight and so fucking polite. "It's been interesting. Not what I'm used to at all." That was an understatement. "I'm from... well, not from London. Not many from my neck of the woods here tonight." Actually that was a particularly hilarious thought. What would happen if he unleashed a few of his wolves and vampires in here? Chaos probably. Very fun chaos and then probably the shit storm of the century courtesy of Voldemort and Rodolphus.
"No, they certainly would not," Narcissa replied, a touch crossly. No one found her parties humdrum, and they still would not even if she had them daily. Not that one would want to, of course, as lack of planning did mean a reduction in calibre. But really, it was the principle of the thing. "Considering the state of the wizarding world, we really could use them more often." This was where she usually gave the Foundation unity in dark times chat, but she was a bit tired of it. Besides, it simply would not do to sound too rude or irritated while dancing.
"Is that so?" She was trying very hard to sound as though she actually cared about where this random clown who had no idea who she was lived. "What parts are you from, then? I grew up in London myself, but I live in the southwest now." Likely he was from some random little village in the middle of nowhere where they had no parties and could not recognise the Malfoy family.
Fenrir was once again very glad he was wearing a full face mask. It was a bit stuffy and a touch claustrophobic but it sure as hell hid the grin he was wearing right now at Narcissa's cross tone of voice. "You might be right," he said in a mild tone of voice, working hard to keep the laughter well-hidden. "The world is certainly a drak place at the moment. A bit of fun and cheer does go down well." Completely ignoring the fact that he and his wolves were responsible for a fair bit of that darkness. That was for the greater good after all.
"I'm originally from Devon," he said. An odd expression wandered over his hidden face. Devon. Damn, he hadn't thought about the old family home in years. He had no idea what had happened to it or whether it was still his. It'd be a wreck if it was. "But I've lived in various places. Right now I'm lving out near the Welsh border." He said it pretty blandly, tossing out that piece of information like bait. It'd be interesting to see how much Narcissa actually knew about what her husband was involved in.
"Devon is absolutely beautiful," Narcissa replied. "Though I cannot say I have ever been to the Welsh border. Is it quite picturesque?" That area was, after all, a rather unsettled part of the world. Who would choose to go on holiday there? Nice places, in Narcissa's opinion, had large villas or refined society or excellent shopping. "Most of my summers were spent in Cornwall... Or Cheshire... or Derbyshire," she added belatedly, thinking of the various Black family manors that they had frequented over the summers before her marriage. "I think, though, that out of all the cities I have been to, London holds a special charm, despite its penchant for rain."
Now that was very interesting. Not really surprising and actually kind of refreshing as well. Narcissa didn't know what was going on, which did at least mean Lucius and any other Death Eaters she spoke to knew how to keep their mouths shut. Nor was it really surprising that she apparently hadn't shown any interest in her husband's work. Pureblood women were trained to be docile little sheep. And this little sheep was dancing with a wolf.
"I haven't been back to Devon in years," he said, the barest hint of brusqueness filtering into his voice. "But the Welsh border is... invigorating. I'm there with a fair few... friends so there's plenty to do." He paused and debated whether to drop any more hints as to his identity. One argument said no because once he did, it was only a matter of time before Lucius turfed him out. But the other far more entertaining argument said yes because Narcissa's reaction would be hilarious. "I don't get to London too much." He dropped the mimicry of his father's voice and let himself relax back into his normal, far more relaxed and coarse speech. Narcissa had heard him speak before. It was just a matter of how quickly she put two and two together and realised whose arms she was in. "For some reason, they don't like me too much round here."
That voice. Narcissa had heard it before. Months and months ago, and certainly not on some holiday or party. It had been March, and Lucius had been on some trip and... she froze. Fenrir Greyback. She stumbled slightly as she attempted to pick up where she had stopped dancing - missing a step was something that hardly ever happened. This is absolutely unreal, Narcissa thought to herself, fury, disgust, and sheer terror vying for first place in her head. I simply cannot be dancing with a werewolf. Things like this only ought to happen to other people.
"What, exactly, do you think you are doing at my party?" Narcissa had entirely forgotten her pretense of being just another partygoer. "If this is some kind of twisted... joke" - her voice was shaking with anger, and she attempted to half listen to the music as to not trip over him- "I assure you that I do not find it amusing in the slightest. And neither will Lucius." If this turned out not to be Fenrir Greyback, she would be spending forever writing a polite note of apology and probably a check as well. But instinct had to count for something.
When Narcissa froze and stumbled, Fenrir gave a low, slightly malicious chuckle. Oh, she'd figured it out and was probably desperately trying to think of a way of getting away without appearing to be rude in front of a room full of guests. "Why, I do believe I am enjoying myself," he said, his mask hiding the savage grin thugh there was open amusement in his voice. "Good drinks, good food, lots of people. What's not to enjoy? Hey, I even paid for my ticket and everything." With stolen money but that was completely beside the point.
"What are you or Lucius going to do?" he said, a hint of menace slipping into his voice before he erased it. "I haven't done a damn thing wrong and you aren't going to unmask me. You'll cause a panic, people will get hurt and questions will be asked about security and how the Malfoys allowed a known werewolf to gain entry to their party. Suspicions will start being voiced." He paused then when he continued, his voice was pleasant and even a little polite. "I'm just here to enjoy the party, have a drink or two and have a little fun. No harm in that, is there?"
Narcissa scowled as he started laughing. This was not funny in the slightest. It was highly disturbing and incredibly serious, but not funny. Unfortunately, he was right. As much as she wanted to run to the security and have him evicted right now, nothing would clear a party as easily as a commotion that led to the unmasking of a horrible, vicious, disgusting, rogue werewolf. What was the point of security if they couldn't spot werewolves? But then, she realized, they had not been effective in keeping mudbloods out, either. Fantastic. She would be writing a very stern letter to the company tomorrow morning. This was absolutely ridiculous. "Well," Narcissa began in a saccharine tone of voice, "I am so very glad you are having a nice time. Tell me-" she moved, 'accidentally' grinding the heel of her shoe into his foot, "how many lovely friends did you think to bring along with you?"
Fenrir growled quietly when Narcissa stepped on his foot with her heel. "Oh, sorry. Been a while since I danced," he said with patently false apology colouring his voice. He pulled her a little closer to him. Not close enough to be inappropriate but certainly close enough to make her uncomfortable. "I'm having a lovely time, thank you," he said in a false 'society' voice then he chuckled again. "Oh, now that would be telling, wouldn't it?" Let her wonder whether he was here alone or whether he'd brought any of his Muggle werewolves or vampires with him.
Narcissa shuddered, attempting to propel herself backwards and away from him with limited success. How long was this piece of music, anyway? It had been going on for eternity, and honestly, no one wanted to dance this long. "It clearly has been a while. But I suppose you do not get much practice." And there it was. Slowly, the violins were dying down and applause came from those who had been sitting on the side. Narcissa could have hugged the conductor if she was in the habit of hugging her employees. As it was, she focused on wrenching herself away from Greyback. "Thank you for the dance," she said automatically, though her voice sounded incredibly vexed.
Fenrir just grinned even though Narcissa couldn't see it and laughed quietly. "Nah, not too many of mine care much for dancing," he said. He let her go as the music slowed and stopped then gave her a somewhat florid bow. "No, no, thank you, Mrs Malfoy. The pleasure was all mine." He offered an arm to escort her off the dance floor and waited to see if she would accept it, enjoying toying with her like this.
Narcissa nodded curtly, and pretending not to see the arm he offered, turned quickly and walked in the opposite direction. Breaking the rules of etiquette felt mildly troubling (was Druella watching?), but honestly, she didn't think they applied to werewolves. She desperately needed the society of people who did not make her feel like tearing her hair out, or smashing a vase or ten.
Remus & Corbina It wasn't difficult to spot her -- chances were, she was very likely the tallest woman in the entire masquerade. Remus also noticed the man sitting near her, much taller than himself and seeming to be engrossed in a book. He could only take a guess that he was one of the Lestranges but, unfortunately, it wasn't as if Remus could dance with any of them in order to set them up for the trap. He could, however, dance with the girl; even though it was obvious who she was, signalling someone to plant a portkey on her while she was still near one of her family was not the best of ideas. Remus would have to dance with her and draw her away into the crowd first. He took a deep breath to gather his courage before approaching her, and he noticed Rodolphus lower his book as he got closer to peer at him.
Remus almost wanted to change his mind and turn around right then, feeling as if Rodolphus knew exactly what he was up to -- but he couldn't know. Could he? Regardless, he couldn't do anything in public, and he didn't know who he was; which was just enough courage Remus needed to stop in front of Corbina. "May I have the honour of a dance?" he requested, attempting to sound as polite as he could and ignore that Rodolphus was still watching him.
He was shorter than her. Not by much, and there wasn't nearly the difference that there'd been when Corbina had danced with Regulus earlier in the evening, but she noticed it all the same as she eyed him through her dark mask. Still though, she had to admire the man's courage. Not many had asked her to dance thus far that evening, and Corbina supposed it may have had something to do with the fact that she'd spent most of the night sitting near her rather large and intimidating brother. It was amusing, but left her somewhat bored while the rest of her friends danced through nearly every song.
Corbina didn't recognise his voice, but she saw no reason to refuse his invitation, especially as he had been more than polite. She tried to remember who was only slightly shorter than her -- it wasn't Barty, this fellow was dark haired. One glance at his nose proved immediately that it wasn't Severus -- then decided that it wasn't important. Part of the fun of the masquerade was the mystery, after all(!) "I would be delighted, thank you," Corbina accepted, offering him her hand and rising to her feet, allowing Remus to lead the way onto the dance floor, the black fabric of her Pandora costume swishing in waves as they brushed past the other dancers.
Remus was all too glad to lead her out onto the dance floor (and, coincidentally, away from Rodolphus and his staring). Although, Corbina was certainly no drunk French woman, so he would have to be much more careful while dealing with her. After Corbina curtsied, he took one of her hands in his own gloved hand, placing his other hand on her waist so they could begin the dance, leading her carefully deeper into the crowd and out of Rodolphus' sight. Remus didn't check to see if he was still watching, hoping he had gone back to his book, but if they were out of view, he wouldn't have to worry about it. "Are you enjoying the masquerade?" he asked, trying to make idle conversation as he kept an eye out for Alana or Pepper to make the portkey drop.
It amused Corbina slightly that the man she was dancing with seemed very very intent on getting her away from her brother and towards the other side of the ballroom, with a plethora of other dancers swishing and twirling across the dance floor, barricading them from Rodolphus's ever-watchful eye. "It's lovely, but not particularly, no," Corbina admitted honestly, allowing Remus to lead her in the dance. He was decent at this, her partner, but she picked up on the fact that he might not have been classically trained as she had. She didn't mind; it was enjoyable to have a dance partner who didn't seem bored with the formalities of the night, as most of the boys she'd grown up with did. This one's slight apprehension was a new twist on things that Corbina found fun.
He was slightly surprised at the honest answer; Remus had expected a simple 'yes' from her. It was a little awkward -- what was he supposed to say to that? "Ah, I'm sorry to hear that. May I ask why?" he replied, although not really interested in the answer -- he at least tried to pretend to show interest. He concentrated on leading her in the dance and keep up with the others around them, making sure not to either bump into the other dancers or step on her feet as they moved. Where was Alana and Pepper?
Corbina followed her partner through the dance steps, gliding across the ballroom floor to the music. She was almost certain that she was out of earshot of anyone who would take offence to her opinions on the night, although she knew that, given it was a masquerade, there was no way to be completely positive. Luckily Corbina was well acquainted with the art of speaking so that she would only be heard by the persons she wished to hear. "I've not actually done much tonight, which is a bit of a disappointment," Corbina explained, then leaned in a little before elaborating. "I'm beginning to suspect that people are intimidated by my brother."
Remus wasn't quite sure how to handle this situation -- it was much easier with Genevieve, as she was both very drunk and very outgoing, so Remus was able to assume she would appreciate heavy flattery. He highly doubted he could use the same tactics with Corbina, and most of the things he thought of to say were likely not something purist men would reply with. This would have been much easier if he hadn't tried to converse at all. "He is a little intimidating," Remus admitted, and at least that wasn't a lie -- only an understatement. "But I'm sorry to hear that means fewer men are asking you for a dance. I hope that the rest of the night goes a little better for you." But if all goes as planned, it'll only be getting worse.
"I appreciate your honesty," Corbina replied. It was clearly obvious that many were wary of Rodolphus -- and by all means, they had every reason to be -- but it seemed as though the popular response for just as many people was to deny this fact for fear of insulting him. Which, frankly, was something else to be wary of, although Corbina preferred people simply to be honest. Lying without a good reason took away the meaning behind doing it when there was reason. "And also that you asked despite this."
There wasn't much else to say, after that, but Remus smiled and continued to lead her across the floor in a slow waltz. He'd never danced much before and never really knew what he was doing, so had never enjoyed it, but after having lessons, he was feeling much more comfortable with it. He'd even enjoyed the dance with Marlene they had earlier, although he didn't have the pressure of making sure he was dancing properly like he did now. At least there wasn't much talking, so he could concentrate on both the dance and keeping an eye out for Alana or Pepper in the mean time. It wasn't until several minutes had passed that he finally spotted Pepper, disguised in his costume, and Remus brought the dance to an end. "Thank you for the dance," he said, bowing to her. "I would have liked to continue, but I must go check on my wife."
Corbina nodded back, acknowledging the end of the dance. "You are most welcome, and thank you as well," she said, bidding her farewell to whomever her masked partner had been. It was somewhat nice, dancing with someone who wasn't a familiar face (not that she could see his face, but that was another thing entirely). Perhaps leaving the masquerade open to the entire wizarding populus was not such a terrible idea on Narcissa's part after all. "Enjoy the remainder of your evening, sir."
Remus began to walk away from her, and once he was able to catch Pepper's attention, he gave him the signal that the woman he had just been dancing with was one of their targets. After that, he moved away into the crowd to the seats in search of someone else to dance with.
Pepper nodded slightly, still ostensibly looking at Jo though the gesture was obviously meant as a confirmation that he'd noticed Remus' signal. Leaning forward, he murmured amusedly in her ear, "Time for more crime," before ducking away as though he was off to find a drink. His target was tall, very tall for a woman - Corbina Lestrange, perhaps? Not that it mattered to him. His job was just to get close to her. He edged and side-stepped through the crowds, long legs moving him fairly quickly toward the woman in black, glad that it was a woman - they tended to have looser folds in their clothing than men, which made it far easier to do what he was about to do... arms down by his sides, blessing her height, he hooked the portkey onto her skirt as he passed her, her clothing moving slightly at his nearby movement anyway.