Кассандра Клэр - Draco Sinister

"Ugh, don't mention pixies. Bad luck!" Narcissa swatted Sirius lightly on the arm, then turned as Anton, the ghostly butler, floated through a nearby wall. He wore a translucent flowered bowtie in honor of the occasion.

"The first guest has arrived, Madam," he announced.

The first guest turned out to be Charlie Weasley, looking handsome and pleased to be out of his work clothes for a change. He wore an elegant black suit against which his Weasley-red hair stood out startlingly. "I'm early, I know," he said, cheerfully, drew a gold-colored bottle out of his pocket, and handed it to Sirius. "Here, I brought something."

"A bottle of wine?" said Narcissa, her eyebrows arched.

"Giant wine," said Sirius, squinting at the label. "Good stuff, this —

half a glass'll knock you out, a full glass and you get your eyesight back in three months. Bit strong for young Harry, don't you think?"

Charlie shook his head. "That's for you, Sirius. I've got something else for Harry."

Charlie seemed so suddenly grave, Sirius' curiousity was piqued.

"What did you get him?"

But Charlie refused to say a word on the subject, and Sirius soon ceased to press him on it as the guests started to arrive in earnest, and the anteroom began to fill up with friends, family, and even Snape, everyone there to celebrate Harry's seventeenth birthday.

"Oh Draco, come on," said Ginny in a wheedling voice. She grinned sideways at Harry, who was sitting next to her on the bed in Draco's room. Harry was already dressed for the party, in black trousers and a dark green Calvin Klein Wizardwear shirt. He smelled pleasantly of aftershave and as usual, his hair tumbled untidily all over his head.

She knew Hermione was still putting on the finishing touches in the other room — she was as careful and methodical about her appearance as she was about any potion — and she herself hadn't even begun to get dressed, a process which she was quite sure would take no less than several hours. When she walked into the Manor Ballroom, she wanted to create an impression. She wanted all eyes to turn towards her — and one pair of silver eyes in particular. "Draco!

We won't laugh at you, I promise."

"I am NOT wearing this, and that is final," said Draco flatly. He was standing behind the floating Chinese silk screen that closed off his walk-in closet from the rest of the room, and all they could see were his feet, clad in black boots. "My mother must be mad."

"Runs in the family, I'm told," said Harry pleasantly.

Draco jerked the curtain back and glared at Harry. "Potter-"

Harry burst out laughing, and Ginny had to clap her hand over her mouth to prevent herself from following suit. Draco flushed, then glared. The outfit his mother had chosen for him was best left undescribed, although "white" and "frilly" and even "shiny" were certainly words that passed through Ginny's mind as she looked at him. Also….was that a peasant collar? Surely it couldn't be…and…were those rhinestones?

"It's a nightmare," said Draco. He looked horribly pained.

Harry wheezed with laughter. "You look like an albino penguin."

"I think he looks rather sexy," said Ginny loyally.

"Sure, he might look sexy," said Harry generously. "To another albino penguin. If it was a blind albino penguin and hadn't gotten any in years."

"That is enough out of your smart mouth, Potter," said Draco, and stepped back behind the curtain. There was a brief flash of colorful sparks, and for a moment Ginny worried that the screen might catch on fire, which nearly made her succumb to another round of the giggles. Harry rolled his eyes. "I've had about enough of the fashion show, I´m going to go find Ron," he said, and made as if to get up, but Ginny reached up and pulled him back down onto the bed by his sleeve. For some reason she couldn't quite identify, the thought of being left alone with Draco made her nervous. "Wait," she said, and Harry flopped back down on the bed, mussing his hair further.

When he stepped out again, Ginny lost all her urge to laugh. He wore charcoal gray trousers that looked as if they'd been designed especially for him, and a soft white shirt that brought out the blue undercurrents in his eyes. His shoes were dark brown leather, the kind that looked as if they probably cost 100 galleons a shoelace. He looked a little older, a great deal more elegant, and very, very rich.

It was a bit intimidating.

He looked at Ginny and smiled. His hair had gotten long enough to curl down nearly to his collar, and against his tanned skin the faint scar along his cheekbone stood out as white-silver as his hair. She remembered touching it with her thumb while they were kissing in the room back at Slytherin's castle. Suddenly she wished she'd let Harry go away after all.

"I said," Draco raised an eyebrow, and from the tone of his voice she could tell he was repeating his question, "is this better?"

Ginny nodded, lost for words.

"Somewhat less revolting," said Harry, which, in Harry-and-Draco-speak, was a compliment.

"I should go get dressed myself," said Ginny, afraid she was starting to blush. She rolled quickly off the bed and went to the door, which opened before she reached it. Hermione was standing there, radiantly pretty in dark brown satin, her hair pulled back neatly and her face framed by a cascade of curls. Hermione so very rarely fussed with her appearance that Ginny often forgot how pretty she could look when she tried. Hermioneś dark eyes went immediately to Harry, who had sat up on the bed and was looking at her, looking a little stunned. "You look beautiful," he said.

Hermione said nothing, just turned pink. Harry got up off the bed and went over to her and kissed her very gently on the cheek, brushing back a stray tendril of her hair as he did so. Ginny felt a sharp and irrepressible stab of envy go through her when she saw the look on his face — not so much that it was Harry in particular, but a painful wishing that someone, some boy, would someday look at her like that, with that expression in his eyes.

She glanced at Draco, who was looking bored with his hands in his pockets. She wondered if he even could look at someone like that, with his heart in his eyes. Gray eyes were so much colder than green.

"May I point out that this is my bedroom," he said, eyeing Harry and Hermioneś goggle-eyed display of affection icily. "If there are going to be snogs going on, either I should be involved in them or they should go on elsewhere. And since I'm none too interested in a threesome…"

Hermione turned pinker. "I just came to say that people are starting to arrive," she said primly. "Ginny, all your brothers are here — "

"Bill and Charlie too?" Ginny interrupted eagerly.

"Yes, and you´ll never guess who Bill brought as his date — Fleur."

"She does get around," said Harry, sounding impressed.

"About 360 degrees," said Draco. "Didn't she date Bill before?"

Ginny looked at him sharply, trying to gauge by the tone of his voice whether or not he minded this new attachment of Fleur's.

Whatever anyone might say, she still believed firmly that Fleur fancied Draco, from the top of his silvery head down to his famous ducky socks.

"She did," confirmed Hermione with a nod. "Percy and the twins are here with their girlfriends, too. Charlie came on his own, though."

"That won't last," said Ginny with a grin. "Charlie's a girl magnet when he wants to be."

"Must be the leather trousers," said Harry, affecting a bland expression.

"Everybody out!" snapped Draco, whose patience for jokes about leather trousers had worn very thin. "I have to finish getting dressed. Bugger off, the lot of you."

Harry and Hermione vanished with a wave, and Ginny went to follow them. But a light touch on her arm made her pause. She turned and saw Draco looking down at her, a bright mischievous sparkle lighting his eyes. "Wait a second, Weasley," he said. "I want a word with you."