{Jan MP} [SMGB] all that glitters {Draco; open}

The January evening chill was unpleasant enough to make one wish to do nothing but burrow under a pile of blankets, basking in the warmth of a roaring fire with a good book; at least, that was Astoria’s ideal winter pastime. Tonight, though, she was without her blankets and her book, and instead was in full formal attire in the company what promised to be hundreds of witches and wizards affiliated with St. Mungo’s at the Grand Ball for charity, hosted by the illustrious Brenhines Euraidd. She wasn’t complaining, certainly – the dreary weather over the past week had driven most everyone indoors, and the recently-turned-twenty-year-old had more than a bit of cabin fever.

In keeping with the theme proclaimed on the invitation, she had ultimately settled on a gold gown that was both comfortable and easy to move in. Her make-up was appropriately neutral, and the only jewelry she wore were a pair of chandelier earrings and her engagement ring; between those two items and her dress, she hardly needed any additional adornment, let alone sparkle.
In her handbag, she had stashed a healthy supply of her usual “emergency” potions; the evening promised to be a long one, judging by the R.S.V.P. note she had received, and she was not keen on being underprepared should her body decide to rebel. Though she had to admit that if – Merlin forbid – something were to happen, a gala hosted by St. Mungo’s would probably be the best place for it aside from the hospital itself.
Minus the minor inconvenience of widespread public notice, of course.

Draco had arrived at Hartnoll House promptly – fifteen minutes early, in fact – to escort her. Freshly-shaven, he was handsomely dressed and the simple change in wardrobe positively transformed him. There had been considerable debate prior to his arrival as to whether or not a chaperone was warranted, but in the end the idea was nixed and the young couple were on their way.

The line for the coat check was already quite extensive, despite the fact that the pair had arrived early. Her left hand was tucked snugly into his elbow, and she would have been surprised if he couldn’t feel how cold her fingers were. In her peripheral vision the sparkle of her ring caught her eye; it was a lovely thing, elegant and tasteful but not too flashy. They had been engaged nearly a year, now, but that didn’t mean the sight of it entranced her any less.
The massive doors opened behind them yet again; Astoria tried hard not to shiver, but the near-constant draft was making it difficult. Perhaps she should have brought a shawl… no matter, she could always Conjure one if she need it. Despite her slight discomfort, Astoria was fully prepared to wait with him; but when the line still hadn’t moved after a few minutes, he told her she needn’t linger in the chill and suggested she go on ahead into the warmer ballroom. After a few moments’ hesitation she agreed, promising to find their assigned seats and procure a drink for each of them.

Upon entering the main ballroom, the youngest Greengrass could not deny it: the place was simply resplendent. And, as the invitation had promised, incredibly sparkly. And gold. Every meticulous detail had been seen to, and despite the fact that the evening was only just beginning there were already a significant number of attendees; with each passing minute the swell of conversation and laughter seemed increasingly louder.

Having found her and Draco’s seats, Astoria drifted among the crowd in search of the bar, offering a polite smile and nod here and there if she so happened to make eye contact with anyone.

A short distance away, she spotted a handsome blond man chatting with a pretty blonde woman. The former struck her as familiar, and after a few moments the realization clicked into place: she had been injured by happenstance during the Battle and quickly transported to St. Mungo’s, and he had been part of the team that had helped initially stabilize her before sending her upstairs to the floors. She hardly remembered him at the time, in all honesty, given her state of shock when she’d first arrived, but in the days that followed she’d made inquiries as to whom had taken part in her care, and she hand-wrote notes to each individual, as well as a blanket thank-you to each of the two departments. It was reflecting on this experience – as well as the fires and destruction of the castle at the beginning of the prior term – that had led her to donate the money months ago that had ultimately earned her an invitation to tonight’s event.
Her parents had balked, of course, when she retrospectively informed them of what she had done; but it was her money, after all. And given for a good cause, she’d reminded them. In the end the incident had blew over, and it was grudgingly admitted that it would – in fact – be a fortuitous opportunity for her and Draco to be seen together at such an event. That, of course, had not been her primary gain (especially considering she had donated the money back in the spring and had no knowledge of the Grand Ball until she received the invitation in late fall), but it was agreeable nonetheless. She had enjoyed meeting with him over tea (again, largely without her parents’ knowledge) when he was free of work constraints, and had appreciated getting to know him as an individual and not just the person to whom she was betrothed.

She lingered in the periphery, waiting for a natural pause in conversation before gliding over to the couple and extending her hand in greeting to each in turn.
“Healer Fletcher? Forgive my intrusion – you were involved in my care… a few years ago, and I wished to say hello and to thank you again.” Astoria had deliberately avoided mentioning the Battle; she had come to find out that it was still a difficult topic for a great many people.

His expression was blank for a fraction of a second, but lit up quickly in recognition.
“Miss Greengrass! Lovely to see you again; you look magnificent,” he complimented, taking her proffered hand. “May I introduce my fr— girlfriend, Brita?”

“You are too kind; both of you look wonderful. Charmed, Miss Brita,” she added with a friendly smile to the blonde. The trio engaged in polite conversation for a few minutes more before Astoria excused herself, on the premise of not wanting to monopolize their time and also wanting to make a few more rounds herself, as well as to find the bar.

There she found Mrs. Ollivander chatting with a young woman, and joined in on the conversation for a few minutes before excusing herself.

A glass of Cabernet Sauvignon in one hand and a whiskey the other, the petite brunette made her way back to their assigned place, dodging gesturing arms from animated conversations in the vicinity and praying she wouldn’t spill either of their drinks before she made it back to the table. Hopefully poor Draco wouldn’t be stuck in line for much longer.

If he was being honest with himself, he did not want to be standing in line for a coat check in one of his nicest suits, no matter how lovely Astoria looked tonight. When Astoria had initially asked him whether or not he’d wanted to attend the St. Mungo’s ball, his first reaction was to say no – simply because he’d come to enjoy the ability to spend his time how he liked with who he liked, and he preferred being out of the public eye. But in that same moment, the Slytherin alum realized that it would be a strategic flaw not to attend. Big parties and celebrations in the name of charity always brought people out, and as much as it irked him these days, it was still important for them to see and be seen. 

Draco suppressed a soft snarl as the witch in front of him stopped moving. With the line having been so long, the woman was busy blathering on about some inane topic to some old acquaintance who had had the fortune to walk by. He had tried clearing his throat, interjecting politely, and a number of more subtle means of grabbing her attention, but when none of that worked his patience slipped, and he allowed himself to unceremoniously shove her aside with his elbow, not even bothering to spare her a withering glance. The guilt he might have typically felt these days was ignored as he favored the attendant with a smile, and a fair tip before he made his way into the ballroom. Astoria wasn't around to see it, and he'd felt justified, Draco wasn't going to worry about it.

Draco had to admit that he was impressed by the effort that had gone into the decorations this year. Of course, they were always some degree of splendid, but this year it seemed as though something was just better this year. He didn’t spend too much time dwelling on what that thing was and set about finding Astoria. As he weaved his way through the crowd he found himself stopping here and there to greet familiar faces, eyes still scanning for his fiancée as he went. Once he’d found her, Draco wasted no time making his way over and deftly accepting his drink from her hands.

“Whiskey? I’m bloody glad you remembered” He raised his voice ever so slightly to be heard over the chatter and favored her with a small smile. “I don’t think we can move without running into someone one of us knows…is there anyone we should make a point of saying hello to?” He scanned the crowd once more, eyes looking for anyone important “by the way, have I told you how lovely you look against the backdrop of the ball? If not…you look exquisite.” 

Astoria’s expression brightened as she caught sight of her fiancé weaving his way through the crowd, pausing every now and then to greet other guests, some of whom Astoria recognized and some she did not. Sipping her wine, she allowed her gaze to linger, feeling a small flood of relief at the apparent ease with which he was handling himself. Not that she’d doubted Draco or anything of the sort; but considering his general attitude towards socialization of late, she had to admit she had been pleasantly surprised when he agreed to accompany her tonight. Perhaps it had only been because he recognized the political importance, but she was glad of it nonetheless. They could always spend tomorrow evening curled up by the fire with steaming mugs of tea and good books, instead.

After a few minutes he finally emerged from the throng, and she greeted his comment with raised eyebrows and a knowing smile.
“What sort of partner would I be to forget?” she chided playfully as he accepted the proffered drink.

“Without question,” she agreed with a slight shake of her head, chandelier earrings swaying. “I must have been stopped a dozen times from the coat check to here.”
Astoria acknowledged his next question with a soft hum of contemplation.
“We should find the Head Healers in charge of organizing the event and thank them personally, to be sure. I was planning to send out notes next week, additionally.” Astoria cast her green-hazel gaze around the room as she thought, toying absently with her engagement ring. “Oh, and I would imagine a list of the other donors is posted somewhere here; it would be prudent to meet several of them, as well.”
‘Especially if any of them happen to be Ministry officials,’ she added silently. As much as Astoria was loath to don political-tinted glasses – at a charity event, no less – such a perspective had become at least a small part of the reason for their attendance. Draco had maintained a low profile for the majority of the past few years; but his family name – her future name – was looked upon with disdain outside of the Pureblood social circles (and even from some families within the network), and plenty of individuals were more than wary of her own by virtue of her blood status and now her engagement.

But that was rooted in what had been.

The Ravenclaw alumna was determined not to allow past transgressions to further influence the name they would make for themselves – redefine for themselves – in this new era. They were not their parents, not their grandparents; and day by day, as her relationship with Draco grew roots, Astoria’s resolve strengthened.

“…by the way, have I told you how lovely you look against the backdrop of the ball? If not… you look exquisite.”

Compliments and cordial flattery were far from unfamiliar to the youngest Greengrass; polite society involved lying through one’s teeth in just about any circumstance in that regard, and members of said society quickly learned to exchange pleasantries assuming the utmost superficiality, with no real substance to them. Coming from Draco, though, it did hold considerable weight – and not just because he was her fiancé. He wasn’t one to voluntarily say things he didn’t mean.

She returned his smile over the rim of her wineglass, opening her free hand and inclining her head slightly in mock-gracious acknowledgment.
“You have now, thank you.” Straightening up, she tilted her head slightly, surveying him. “You’re looking quite nice, yourself.” She meant it, too; it wasn’t as though he’d looked poorly before, but if tonight was any indication, he certainly seemed the type to ‘clean up’ well. Regardless of the internal grievances he may or may not have, the environment seemed to become him nicely.
“The color is especially flattering.” Absently, she reached out a small manicured hand to pluck a rogue fuzzball from the front of his otherwise-impeccable and perfectly-pressed suit.

“Is being here as dreadful as you had expected, so far?” she teased, offering him the wineglass in case he wanted to sample some for himself. “I must admit, I don’t believe I’ve seen so much… sparkle… in my entire existence.”