Altered for the Altar

His dark eyes don’t pause on my face, though; instead, they roam from my eyes and shoes, then fly to where Draco and I’s conjoined hands rest in between us. My eyebrows knit together as I watch the raven haired man stare at me, my mind whirling with the reasons for his brazen show of attention. But his orbs don’t mirror anger; instead, they show ribbons of other emotions that wrinkle his forehead and freeze his hand around the champagne glass. If we were any closer and I any braver, I would ask what he found so captivating about me. He’s on the other side of the large room, though, and I don’t have enough courage brewing inside of my body to stomp over to him.

“Don’t let ol’ hooknose creep ya out, sweetheart.”

My eyes glide away from the black haired man and over to Draco’s friend, Theodore. He’s grinning while loosely grasping a crystal tumbler, much like the one found in the Malfoys’ study. I manage a little smile in return and allow Draco to pull out of the hold my hand had on his, easing into his side when he draws me close by wrapping his arm around my waist.

“You alright?” he whispers, leaning his head down closer to mine. He stares into my gaze for a few seconds as I feel his hand scaling comfortingly up my back. Nodding, I smile again and lean into him even more. “Good. Theo’s right. You shouldn’t let Snape bother you. He’s just one of the weird ones.”

Theodore, or Theo, cackles at that and takes a gulp from his glass.

I listen to their words and allow Draco’s gentle hand to ease away the curiosity I’d felt at the aged man’s lingering gaze. Soon, I become enthralled in the conversation that that the two boys are having and have both of them laughing as they try to explain to me what Quidditch exactly is. I even laugh some too because they’re horrible at describing anything that has to do with the British wizard sport.

But we’re joined by Blaise and a brown haired girl whose face is rather small, her features close together and tiny, though glaring and steely as she fixes me with a hot stare. I hide my raised eyebrows by taking a drink out of the glass Blaise had brought over.

“Elizabeth, it’s good to see you again!” Blaise exclaims, pulling me into a brief hug.

I smile gently at him, remembering our first run in and letting out a breath while hoping to avoid conversation like that tonight. “You too, Blaise. How’ve you been?”

“Fantastic, thank you. Met this fabulous bird from Manchester the other day and-“

“-oi! Will you shut up, mate? No one wants to hear about how you almost got it in with some girl,” interrupts Theo.

I just so happened to be taking a drink when that was said and end up choking on a gulp I’d sucked into my mouth. Draco pats my back gently and asks me once more if I’m alright. I just nod and pretend to cough so Blaise won’t see my smile; but Theo is grinning wickedly over at me and he winks before taking another swig from his glass.

“You were always jealous of my charm, Knott.”

Theo laughs loudly at that. “Right, Zabini. Only an idiot like you wouldn’t be able to see that all that was just pity.”

“What about all those girls that Draco slept with? Do you think that was pity, or were there some love potions involved?”

Quiet then, it weaving through the little group that had gathered in this inconspicuous corner while all eyes turn towards the girl whose name I still hadn’t learned. Her words ring out like an echo and she stares at me with a haughty expression cloaking her too-little features. I just wrap my free hand around the stem of my champagne glass, feeling as Draco tenses up beside me, and praying that this doesn’t turn into some fight.

“Shut up, Pansy,” comes Blaise with a laugh. “You’re just jealous that Draco isn’t marrying you.”

I hear as Pansy screeches and she reminds me of a small child throwing a temper tantrum in the middle of a store because their parents wouldn’t buy them a toy. I smirk at this and take a sip of my drink again.

“I am not jealous of that… that… that slag! If Draco wants to marry some cheap American bint, then that’s fine by me!”

“Look-“

“-why don’t you go brown nose with Aria, Pansy. I know you’re real good at it, and oh-look! Mr. Goyle’s free!” Theo says, interrupting Draco.

Pansy screeches again and then she’s stomping away, brushing past Snape and nearly knocking over some man who’s cloaked in waterfalls of black satin. He grumbles at her, but she just keeps going till she disappears out of my site.

Theo and Blaise go back to arguing about whether Blaise had any charm or not, but Draco is still tense beside me, breathing heavy and no longer gripping my waist. I frown a little at this and turn to him.

“She’s just upset that she isn’t in my place, Draco,” I quietly say, wondering if I should tilt his chin up so I can peer into his slate colored eyes. I decide to grab them with my own instead. “Don’t worry about it.”

A sigh ripples out of his lips and I feel him relax some. Though, as he winds his arm around me again and I almost sink into his warmth, I can still feel the stiffness in his tall, lean body.

We all get back into the swing of the conversation after that, and I even offer up a few bits because Theo’s friendly and Blaise has sort of dropped all the talk about himself in favor of a few comedic remarks that make my cheeks red as I laugh at them. We’re all talking about the day that Theo and Draco rolled Blaise out towards the back garden when Mr. Malfoy sweeps over.

“You two, come with me,” he stonily says.

He doesn’t even have to mention who the two are, as Draco and I follow in right behind him, Theo obliging to take our almost empty glasses with a grim, closed lip smile that practically seeps sorrow. Blaise just nods his head and shoves a hand in the pocket of his dress pants.

As we begin to carve a path to the front of the room, Mr. Malfoy moves himself over to Draco’s free side and begins to explain why he’d pulled us away.

“It’s time to talk with the others who’ve come to meet Elizabeth. You two can’t spend the whole night in that damned corner. Now, we’ll start with the Dolohov’s, then you two will just make your way through the left side, alright? You can attend to the right if we have time.”

Draco nods and turns me with him when he starts over to where Mr. Malfoy had instructed.

“It’s alright,” he whispers as we approach a dark headed man and an extremely thin woman. “Just remember our story.”

The Dolohov’s receive us rather gloomily and I can tell, almost immediately, that the only one who gives a damn about this party is Mrs. Dolohov. While Draco is conversing with Mr. Dolohov about some sort of a job, the thin woman pulls my hand from my side and starts to examine the ring given to me.

“What an ornate stone,” she says. “Very dark in color, too. My, my—this must’ve cost a fortune!” Her assessment of the jewelry piece doesn’t last long, and then she’s practically throwing my arm back down. “Too bad you’re not pale enough for the diamond, or wearing the right outfit.”

I frown and glance down to my sparkly gold dress.

“That’s enough, Gabrielle,” comes Mr. Dolohov, his voice stern and intimidating. His wife almost cowers back into the drapes she’s standing in front of. “It was nice meeting you, Elizabeth. Have a pleasant evening.”

And with that, Draco guides me away. But as we start for the next person waiting in the invisible line, I become weary of what I know lies ahead.

“Most won’t want to talk,” Draco’s says as we skip over a few people who just give a little wave and smile almost sarcastically. “They don’t really give a damn about you or me or this party. They’re only here because they want news of the war.”

“And the others?”

He grips my waist tighter and sighs. “They want to tear us down.”

With this now lodged into the back of my mind, Draco leads me over to a man whose last name he informs me is Selwyn. But I can’t interact with him like I’d done the first couple, if you can even call what I did with that woman socializing. I’m too scared that I’ll say something and the man will sneer at me or, worse, laugh before casting me off as an idiot who he can shred with insults and snide remarks. Draco seems to catch onto this, for he diverts the attention away from the whole reason for the party by expertly starting to talk about wands and a man named Ollivander.

After him, it’s another person who watches me with hard eyes and a firm smile. They all swirl together in a blur until Draco is practically dragging me over to the corner we’d been hiding in hours before. He doesn’t say anything, just finds Theo in the maze of people as we make our way over and says something to him that I don’t bother to catch.

I’m too busy sinking into that pit that I’d warned myself about earlier. But I’m fighting and I seem to have almost drug myself out and closed the hole back up when that Pansy girl comes swooping in on the heels of Blaise. She smirks smugly over a glass of almost-gone champagne as the dark skinned boy converses with Draco.

By the time Theo appears with two glasses of something dark sloshing around in them, I’m angry. I’m furious that I’d allowed myself to virtually get trampled on by all these people. I’m livid that Draco had to, once again, pick up my slack because I was too fragile and scared to do anything. I’m outraged at myself and I want this ugly girl to go away so I can try and forget about that part of the night.

“Draco, what are you going to do with her when you come back to Hogwarts?” she asks.

“I’m not coming back, Pansy,” he explains, tone light.

“He’s staying here with me,” I cut in, my smile sickeningly sweet. “We’re using the time to plan our wedding.”

Theo and Blaise chortle together behind closed fists as I feel Draco’s eyes on me, his grip tightening around my waist as I see him raise his glass to take a sip out of it through my peripheral vision.

“What?” she spits.

“Oh, don’t worry. We’ll be sure to send you an invitation.”

I smile at her and move closer to Draco, not joining in with the chorus of loud laughter that rings out after she stomps away from our group for the second time tonight. If I’m being honest, I’m too stunned to do anything but gulp down the whiskey Theo had brought over. I don’t know who said that to the foul girl, but I think it was me, and I have no idea how those clever words even got thought up inside my brain. After all, I was the meek American girl who cried, got sick, and passed out for days because she was too much of a coward to deal with anything.

But as Blaise applauds me for chasing Pansy away, I feel… different? I don’t know if that’s the right word for the feelings stirring up inside me or if this will even last, but I know that, just a few seconds ago, I proved to myself and Draco that I wasn’t some weak little thing who wasn’t capable of anything remotely brave—I proved that I could help him, even it was just a little bit, just like he was helping me.