Altered for the Altar

I don’t know what to expect. The little meeting I had with some of the Malfoy’s family friends days ago certainly hadn’t prepared me for what tonight would offer. I assume that the majority of those same persons will be there tonight, maybe drinking or possibly seeming as if they are having a good time, and then there will be others who are probably not important enough to have been asked to that dinner.

As I smooth down the fabric of my dress, I’m not sure which I’m more nervous about: seeing those people from my first meeting with Voldermort again, or meeting a whole new group of dark followers. It’s all so imposing that my stomach has long started to violently twist, causing me so much discomfort that I consider making a dash to the library so I could have some of Draco’s liquor.

Drawing in a deep breath, I look myself over in the mirror, my mother’s voice echoing in my head and making me pull my shoulders back and raise my chin up. I blink several times to clear my vision, then steal my gaze and harden my jaw. I don’t want to appear weak to these people as I knew I once had; I wanted to seem like I was strong, like I was the perfect fit for Draco, who I knew was undoubtedly poised and fit, regardless of whatever situation he was being cast into.

Swallowing down the hard lump that has lodged in my throat, I practice my smile, the way I’m going to introduce myself, and even go as far as running a few standard answers to some questions I knew I would be asked. I go over the story Draco and I had come up with, too, making sure I know the details so I wouldn't mess up. But even after all my practice, I still feel like a lamb that’s about to be brought to slaughter.

A knock on my bedroom door yanks me out of the world that is my complicated thoughts and I jump, steadying myself against a wall so I don’t tumble over in my heels. There’s a few more raps delivered to the sleek wood of the door before I get it open, and then Draco is there, his grey eyes scaling up from where they’d been staring at the floor. I offer a smile when the steely orbs begin to bounce from mine, taking a few quick seconds to look over his apparel. His outfit is the exact opposite of mine: black on black, with even his tie and the daintily folded handkerchief dripping in the bleak opaque color. Glancing back up at him, I smile a little, my cheeks reddening just a hint.

“You look nice,” he says.

“So do you,” I reply.

He smiles at that, chuckling quietly while shoving his hands down into the pockets of his dress pants. I’m going to ask him why he’s here so early, but a sound from downstairs stops me. It’s a pop that makes me furrow my eyebrows and lean closer to Draco so to see if I could catch a glimpse of whatever had caused the noise. But the banister is large and it blocks my view from the downstairs entry way.

“Can I come in?” he asks suddenly, quickly.

I stumble back because he’s turned around and I’m too close to his clear face. Gripping the door handle tighter, I nod, stepping back in order to let him and cursing my stupid habits as he steps in.

Shutting the door behind him, I turn, instantly beginning to fumble with my hands in front of me. I watch as he inspects my room a little, making sure to gauge his reaction to my, still, unpacked bags and the state of my bathroom. He smirks as his orbs fall on that part of my suite and I blush again.

“I’m not usually so messy,” I lie.

He shakes his head, continuing to smirk as he turns to face me. “It’s fine. You should see my room.”

I chuckle at this. Humor lights up his eyes and he looks extremely beautiful in the glow that is radiating through the large window that resides in my room. But he is very pretty, Draco is, and that’s something that I’ve always thought, whether it a forefront notion or one that lingered in the background of the madness that usually clogged up my brain. He looks more attractive when he’s truly smiling, though, I deduce while walking a little bit closer to him.

“Is there something you wanted to talk about before we go down to the party?” I ask, curiosity biting back the thoughts of how I liked it when he smiled.

He motions to the chairs that congregate around a little table that I usually took my breakfast on, elegantly dropping down into one when I take a seat. Then he starts to fumble around in the various pockets that make up his outfit, grumbling some curses that are clipped in his British accent. When he brandishes a shiny box, I freeze.

“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning forward a little while starting to twirl the box in his grasp. “I had to get you one, obviously, since we’re supposed to be engaged. I suppose I should’ve asked you for your input and I’d intended on doing that, but I saw this in a shop one day while I was out with mother. She said you might like it.”

Opening the thing with a croak of the lid, he reveals a unique ring that makes my eyes widen in surprise. A black, glossy diamond cut in a slanted square and turned on one of the four tips is encased by murky white diamonds and a dark steel. Onyx diamonds line the band all the way around and four claw-like pieces of the dark steel hold the bigger black diamond in place. It simmers darkly in the bit of sunlight that the fading daylight hasn’t swallowed yet and looks far too small for his big fingers, but just right for my dainty ones.

“It’s beautiful,” I smile, glancing up at him.

Another smile, this one riddled with breaths of relief, slips onto his lips and he nods while holding out one of his hands, signaling that I lay mine there. He slips the ring gently onto my ring finger, careful not to catch any of my skin in the band and murmuring a quick ‘good’ when it fits perfectly. I admire it for a while, wiggling my finger some so the onyx diamond twinkles in the light that doesn’t seem to want to fade, and remain completely aware of the fact that Draco is still leaning close and has taken to watching me.

“You like it, right?” he asks tentatively.

I chuckle and flick my gaze up to his face. I knew that if he and I were actually a couple who wanted to be married, that I’d probably kiss him for buying such a perfect, pretty gem; but we don’t want to be married, so I settle for nodding vivaciously and grinning wide over at him. He smiles in relief once again.

Noise downstairs starts to grow, alarming me as my ears start to become tuned to the quiet roar of voices, pops, and the opening and closing of doors. Draco, too, is becoming aware of the fact that more and more people have started to arrive, and his body tenses as he glances over to the closed door of my bedroom.

“Should we start down now?” I ask.

He nods. “Probably.”

And no sooner do he and I stand, than does a knock vibrate against my door. My eyebrows furrow in confusion for the second time tonight while Draco’s jaw hardens and he signals for me to let him answer. But it’s only Leal, revealed by a tiny sliver that the blonde headed British boy allows for himself to see into the hallway, and the creature squeaks something about us needing to come down now before scampering off. I make my way over after Draco has closed the door back, smoothing down my sparkly dress and checking my reflection in the mirror as I pass by it. I pat down curls that are sticking out oddly, run a finger of my pink lips, and check to make sure these heels actually go with my outfit. Then I catch the pretty glint the ring gives off in the finally fading rays of the sun, smiling a little as I move my hand and watch as the diamond sparkles.

My admiring is interrupted when Draco appears in the mirror with me, his hands still shoved down into his pockets as he places himself close to my side. He smiles at me in the reflective glass.

“Are you ready?” Looking down in embarrassment, I nod, taking the lead when he motions for me to head for the door first. He’s quickly behind me and takes his place on my right, where he pulls his hand from his pocket and slowly intertwines his fingers with mine. “You look stunning, by the way,” he says once again, leaning in close to my ear to whisper this.

I swallow thickly, glancing over at him as I feel a confusing heat start to build in the pit of my stomach. “So do you.”

He glances down at me and flicks his gaze around my features till they settle on my own eyes. Then squeezes my fingers, opens the door, and pulls me out into the hallway, where the roar of all the people gathering down below increases dramatically. We go down two flights of stairs, wait for Leal to fetch Mr. Malfoy, and remain out of sight till Draco’s father is hurrying towards us.

“Good, you’re finally here. We were worried you’d taken off,” is his curt greeting to the two of us. “Now, lets go. Everyone’s growing impatient.”

Draco just nods and pulls me along, though he squeezes my fingers once more, which I return because he seemed like he needed the comfort more than me.

We come to a large room that had once been two, I remember, but the door and walls has been taken out so now it was ginormous. People have gathered in thick throngs and they’re congregated in groups. I recognize a few faces as Mr. Malfoy leaves us at the opening of the room, placing several at the dinner I’d lost myself in.

Mr. Malfoy swishes his wand and the tinkling of several glasses being lightly hit with something light floods through the room. People quiet their conversations and turn towards him, though I notice their gaze slinks directly onto us. I swallow hard and remember to put my shoulders back. When the sound cuts off, Mr. Malfoy smiles a little, though it’s thin and rather dark.

“I would like to introduce you to future Mr. and Mrs. Draco Malfoy.”

Claps ring out in a mix of dullness and happiness, a few people who I peg as Draco’s friends whooping and hollering from their places in the thick of everyone, while others, people who seem to just be fellow dark cohorts of the Malfoy’s, watch me with steely gazes. They start whispering amongst themselves when Draco gently leads me down off the stairs and off to a far corner, away from his father and towards where one of his vivacious friends stand. He greets Draco energetically, then introduce himself to me as Theodore Nott.

Draco continues to hold my hand as he and Theodore laugh a little and catch up, and I try to follow the conversation, but I can’t. I can still feel the gazes of the party goers on me and when I glance over my shoulder, the man who I remember introducing himself as Severus Snape is glaring at me from the opposite side of the room.