Strangers Can Change Everything

The moonlight flooded through the gaps in the tall evergreen trees that surrounded Malfoy Manor. The silvery light bouncing off the elaborately decorated carriages that were now swarming into the courtyard. The carriage occupants were beginning to exit their vehicles and make their way into the house. Every respectable wizardry family was here. Everyone invited had immediately accepted his or her invitation; no one refused a Malfoy offer.

The men wore smart robes, strictly black tie and the women were all elegantly dressed. The enchanted central fountain that emitted a bright glow, lighting the courtyard for the many guests on this dark night, illuminated the many coloured robes. The ancient fountain, shaped as a huge coiled serpent, towered above the guests, a clear presentation of the Malfoy power and wealth.

The familiar faces included the Crabbe and Goyle families obviously. Crabbe and Goyle junior looking very out of place in dress robes and moody expressions. Mrs Goyle continually adjusted her son's hair, using her handkerchief to wipe at his face in a flustered manner. Goyle stared gloomily at the ground.

The Parkinson's had also arrived in a very expensive looking carriage. Mr Parkinson held out his arm on one side for his extremely young third wife and beckoned to Pansy with his free hand. Pansy elegantly followed in a long green dress, her dark hair curled and piled high on her head. She would have looked quite attractive if it wasn't for her twisted sneer and sinister eyes.

The Velar family was beginning to climb the entrance steps. Mr Velar hobbled up, accompanied by his two young nephews, Andrew and Sebastian who were greeting Pansy Parkinson much too enthusiastically. She giggled and twirled a loose curl around her finger.

Marcus Flint could be seen leading his unfortunate looking bride-to-be up the stone steps. His parents not far behind and his grandparents. Terence Higgs was no where to be seen but his Uncle Henry was laughing richly at one of Old Mr Baddock's jokes. Millicent Bulstrode and her sister Agatha were being helped down from their carriages by their rather large father. Graham Pritchard had then offered both sisters his arm and they smirked together in matching pink dresses that highlighted their dark eyes.

Other Malfoy relatives arrived, along with many of the distant French cousins. Blaise Zabini was helping a blonde girl in a stunning black dress out of her carriage, he looked most smug with himself as her lone father patted him on the back encouragingly. Many other carriages began to arrive, many new faces, many old. All made their way up the stone entrance into the house where a full wizardry orchestra could be heard playing as the guests entered.

Draco Malfoy watched all of this from his bedroom balcony that was high above the courtyard. Always the same, always every March the thirty first, the same party, Draco thought wistfully. He stubbed out his finished cigarette and used his wand to vanish away the remains. He stepped back through the cream drapes that floated through the open doors and strode towards the mirror. He glanced at himself. How much he'd grown since last year's party he thought absentmindedly.

Now at eighteen years old, Draco looked quite handsome in his tailored dress robes that had been specially made for this particular occasion. His slim boyish self had grown into a tall, defined man. Though he still had his white blond hair that always fell into his eyes giving him a certain look that would get him anything in life and he used it well.

"You are looking exquisite tonight, Master Draco," commented the mirror.

"Yes, well... It is as always, I believe," he replied half-heartedly.

"Are you not looking forward to tonight's celebration Master Malfoy?" questioned the mirror.

"The fake smiles, insincere comments, annoying conversations with boring family members and pathetic giggling from schoolmates such as Pansy are always inviting, yes, but not pleasant at anytime."

Malfoy walked over to his green satin covered bed and sat down exasperatedly. Father will be here any minute. Wondering why I haven't come down, he thought wistfully.

Draco hated all the false nonsense and pointless presentation of himself. Everyone knew that underneath it all, under the very floor that the guests danced upon were the dungeons, the Deatheaters' gathering place. Many of the guests were part of his father's inner-circle, some guests were here tonight to prove that they should be in the circle and others just pretended that everything was perfectly normal. Pansy will continue to flirt and toy with me and I will never be able to get away. Blaise will gloat about his latest conquest. Crabbe and Goyle will follow me everywhere and father will still expect me to act the perfect gentleman when necessary and mother will remain expressionless, but I will know that inside she hates this just as much as I do. Draco's thoughts were interrupted by a deep knock on the door. Lucius Malfoy then entered, his long cape whirling behind him.

"Draco, we must go to meet our guests, they want to see the whole Malfoy family," Lucius spoke calmly.

"I am coming," Draco responded as he dragged himself off his bed.

"I understand that these events do not always give you so much enjoyment but you are a Malfoy and we must continue to maintain our place at the top of the social ladder, the most powerful and respected family. Come and meet the guests. Pansy was asking after you just a second ago, lovely girl," Lucius said with sly smile. "I'm sure that she would only be to happy to make your night enjoyable if she could."

Draco returned his father's smirk but his was only slightly obvious. Pansy was attractive, yes, but always pestering him. She was too small and fragile, and too willing to please, there was no challenge in it. But Pansy would do, Draco thought, if there was no one else.

******************************************************************

As Draco and Lucius made their way through Malfoy Manor's many hallways, the guests were beginning to mingle downstairs.

"I heard that Draco is allowed to chose any bride, now that he has entered adulthood," stirred Madam Hilary.

"No, no, Lucius will not allow him to wed unless from a pureblood family, he wants to uphold the Malfoy name. Draco will hardly have a choice in the matter," Lady Aulburn replied.

"We all know that Draco my marry whoever he wishes, as long as Lucius approves. Now please stop your gossiping ladies, it is not a respectable way to pass one's time," Sir Aulburn interrupted.

"Oh do relax darling, we are at a party," laughed Lady Aulburn, "Anyway, it is just harmless bantering!" she finished, nudging her husband mockingly.

"One does not relax at Malfoy Manor, party or not," he replied sternly and left swiftly to find some more champagne, leaving Madam Hilary and Lady Aulburn looking most put out.

In the far corner of the room, Crabbe and Goyle senior were talking quietly to each other, staring suspiciously around the room. As Mr Zabini strode over to meet them, they stop abruptly and looked shiftily at their feet. Mr Zabini completely missed this in his flamboyant approach and continued to introduce his wife enthusiastically.

Blaise Zabini and Lord Jaulter were deep in discussion with one of the French relatives who was arguing that Paris was a more wizardry updated city than London.

By the twelve foot wide doorway, that opened up on the far side of the hall to reveal a carefully trimmed and laid out garden area which went back almost half a mile, stood many of the younger guests. Millicent and Agatha Bulstrode continued to flaunt themselves competitively towards Graham Pritchard. Pansy and the Velar nephews stood alongside, while Crabbe and Goyle sulked in the shadows. All were helping themselves to the free champagne and each held a glass containing a different coloured wizardry wine.

Newly hired servants at the Malfoy house dressed in waiter and waitressing outfits, swam amongst the guests, offering drinks and food arrangements to keep the guests happy until dinner was served. The enchanted fireflies hovered around the doors and windows, decorating the frames and richly coloured fabrics hung from the ceiling creating a canopy effect. The orchestra who had been playing throughout the arrival of all the guests suddenly went silent and the crowd shuffled towards the great entrance doors.

On the other side of the doors, Lucius and Draco paused as Narcissa Malfoy descended the great stairs, in a beautiful black and green ball gown. It had no straps but was held perfectly in place by some spell and the tight bodice showed her slim figure. The colours highlighted her loose golden hair and her wrists were encircled by enchanted, twirling serpent bracelets that Lucius had bought her last Christmas. She walked towards her husband and took his waiting arm, but not before giving her son a small smile of encouragement. Draco smiled back but saw her dull eyes under her fine eyeliner and a wave of sadness washed over him.

But he did not have time to dwell on this as the orchestra began to play, announcing the hosts to the guests. With a subtle flick of Lucius's wand the ten-foot engraved, wooden doors opened to reveal the eager crowd. A murmur rose as the Malfoy's began to greet their guests.

"Such a stunning couple, don't you think?"

"A bit over the top that entrance, if you ask me."

"Oh, look how Draco has grown!"

"He's inherited Lucius's manner and both his parent's beauty."

"I must ask Lucius where he got the decorator for this get-together. Simply marvellous, wouldn't you say?"

Draco instinctively ignored these comments. He learnt long ago to take no notice of mindless chatter from his many relatives and father's associates. He headed straight for the nearest waitress and helped himself to a champagne flute. The waitress bowed her head appropriately and Draco watched her saunter away in her short uniform. I must thank father for hiring human staff as well as house elves this year. They are not such an eyesore and the female portion is most enjoyable, Draco chuckled to himself.

"Draco dear, is this not just a splendid evening!" squealed Mrs Parkinson who had just rushed up beside him.

Oh god, here we go.

"Good evening Mrs Parkinson. My parents will be most pleased to know that you are enjoying it," Draco responded, hiding behind a forced smile.

"Pansy was just asking for you," Mrs Parkinson continued. "Pansy come over here darling! Come and thank Draco and Lucius for our invitations."

Lucius had joined his son just as Pansy walked towards them, her dress swaying behind her.

"Yes, thank you Lord Lucius. You do hold the best parties in the wizardry world," Pansy spoke charmingly.

"It is a pleasure, I assure you Miss Parkinson," Lucius replied.

Mrs Parkinson beamed happily and continued to address Lucius.

"We have heard that Master Draco here did just as well in his N.E.W.T.'s as did our Pansy. We are so proud of her!"

Pansy smiled sweetly, the image of innocence some would say. If only they knew, thought Draco, If only they knew what Pansy was like behind closed doors, away from the eyes of adults. Draco had to suppress a snort of laughter as he remembered how pathetic Pansy was when he chucked her out of his Hogwarts room late at night when he'd had enough of her. "Oh can't I stay Draco?" she'd plead unattractively. "We can do it again." She'd offer, leaning in to kiss him, to seduce him again. "I'm bored of you Pansy," he'd always answer, pushing her out. If only they knew. No one here even suspected. Or may be his father did. Lucius did have a tendency to know almost everything about people.

"Oh Lucius, there you are! I was just congratulating Narcissa on the wonderful decorations of the hall. She did do well, didn't she!" bellowed a voice belonging to Mr Zabini who had just swaggered up to join the conversation.

"Thank you George, my wife does have quite a talent for these sorts of things," Lucius replied calmly.

'Quite a talent' contemplated Draco, It wasn't just 'quite a talent'. Mother is amazing when it comes to these sort of things. She knows exactly how things should look so that Father approves. She knows exactly who to invite and when to hold the event. Draco thought that his father should have given his mother more praise but he supposed that it was rare for Lucius Malfoy to even verge on the edge of a compliment, let alone complete one.

"Let me introduce my son Blaise. He and Draco were schoolmates but I do believe that you two have never met before," George Zabini continued, pushing Blaise forward.

Draco knew that his father cared very little for the Zabini family but they were climbing the social ladder quite rapidly. Mr Zabini was the head of the Ministry of Magic's foreign communications department and therefore a good ally to have. Lucius hid any uncaring feelings in his expressionless gaze as he shook Blaise's hand courteously. When they had finished, Blaise beckoned for a girl in a stunning black dress who stood a few metres behind him, to come forward. Draco recognised her as the girl who he'd seen Blaise help out of a carriage as the guests arrived. She came forward, but just as Blaise was about to introduce her, Lucius interrupted him.

"And therefore, this must be Miss Arabella Ostivia, I presume," Lucius said charmingly as he raised the girl's hand and kissed it. "This is my son Draco," he finished.

Draco nodded and the girl gave a slight smile, but he noticed that is was not a smile of the eyes. Her striking blue eyes seemed to show no emotion.

"I believe Miss Ostivia is soon to become Mrs Zabini," Lucius addressed Blaise but kept eye contact with Arabella as he cocked his head to one side, letting his hair fall by his shoulders. "You are a very lucky man, Blaise."

"Thank you, sir," answered Blaise smugly, "but you must excuse us, Mother will wonder where we have got too."

With that, Blaise took Arabella's hand from Lucius' grasp and led his bride to be away.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Lord Lucius and Master Draco," Arabella said courteously as she left.

Draco watched them go. The girl was definitely striking with her soft cheekbones and perfectly shaped mouth. The low dress exposed her slightly tanned back and much of her exposed neck that was accompanied by a single silver chain. Her pulled back golden hair flowed down her back reminding him of his mother. Pansy saw him watching her and scowled. Draco smirked. Arabella's grace put Pansy's traditional prettiness to ashes.

Blaise really has struck lucky. Shame that she'll have to endure such a husband as he will surely be, Draco sighed inwardly.

"You must be very pleased with the arranged marriage, George," Lucius turned to Mr Zabini, "The Ostivia family is well-respected. They lived near some of Narcissa's relatives in France after they left England two years ago, it seems that they have returned. The British wizardry world could do with another decent family back in its community again."

"Oh we are very pleased, yes. Her father and I arranged everything a few years back, obviously they were not told until she turned sixteen this January, but Blaise seems most happy with the choice."

I bet he is, thought Draco.

"Talking of her father, where is Mr Ostivia tonight? I have not seen him since he arrived in the courtyard. I have much to discuss with him. We are old friends."

"Oh, Mr Ostivia was just talking to your wife a moment ago, he is definitely around," Mr Zabini answered scanning the room.

******************************************************************

From then on, the evening continued just as Draco expected. He had to sit through many more uninteresting conversations and boring chats with distant relatives that he hardly recognised. The dinner was just as bad. Pansy played footise annoyingly with him throughout and his father continually sent him cold warning glances whenever he began to look disinterested, which was often enough. The guests grew drunk as the minutes trudged by. When Draco did join his old schoolmates after dinner, hoping for some form of entertainment, he had to endure the drunken giggling of Millicent Bulstrode as Andrew Velars dragged her behind one of the garden bushes and took full advantage of her condition.

Crabbe and Goyle followed him around drearily and Graham Pritchard would not stop talking about his exciting encounter with one of the waitresses. Draco was dying for a cigarette, but he'd left his lighter in his room and his father would not like his leaving. So when Pansy offered a short distraction Draco agreed and followed her to one of the garden benches away from the house. After a long period of fumbling and kissing, Draco decided that this was probably not the way to drown his sorrows. He knew Pansy would only gloat about it in the morning. Gloat about how he supposedly 'couldn't resist her' or some other bullshit story. So he left her looking confused and frustrated on the bench, blaming his momentary weakness on the champagne, though he was not drunk yet.

He wandered back towards the house and the drunken sound of the guests grew louder, no one was even thinking of leaving yet, it was only eleven thirty and at least half of the guests would be staying in one of Malfoy Manor's many spare rooms tonight.

He was craving for a cigarette, just a moment alone. He would have used his wand, but wands could only produce large flames and he did not want to scorch off his eyebrows particularly.

I could just call it down from my room, but someone is bound to see it. Draco hopelessly searched his pockets again when he heard voices nearby. Just in front of him was one of the gardens little alcoves that contained a small metal table with four chairs, surrounded by high willow trees and a variety of magical shrubs that only bloomed when asked. Two paths led to this particular alcove and Draco stood in the shadows of one but opposite him in the path nearest the house he saw Blaise and the Ostivia girl.

"Hey babes, where are you going?" Blaise asked abruptly, grabbing her arm as she began to walk towards the table.

"I just wanted to get some air Blaise, could you...um... just leave me alone for a moment?" she answered tactfully.

"Can't get away that easy, Arabella," Blaise murmured slightly tipsy. His arm snaked around her waist and he turned her to face him, his free hand stroking down her neck. He held her tight.

"Let go of me Blaise," she whispered firmly. Her tone surprised Draco, she had looked so sweet and shy earlier.

"What are you gonna do, shout for Daddy? He's deep in conversation with Lucius somewhere. It's just you and me."

Blaise was at least a head taller than she was and much stronger, but she just glared at him angrily.

"We are not married yet Blaise," she spoke calmly. "So let me go."

With that she shoved him hard in the chest and in his state he almost fell. He landed, standing only just, against one of the large hedges.

"Fine, have it your way. But you'll gonna have to get used to me one day. And I'm sure that your father would like to hear about your behaviour towards me, wouldn't he now?"

"Run along then, go and tell on me Blaise," Arabella said mockingly as she turned her back on him, rummaging through her tiny sliver bag for something.

Draco couldn't help grinning at the disappointed look on Blaise's face. His taunt hadn't shaken Arabella at all, she'd just turned it around and made him look childish. I'm beginning to like this girl, Draco thought.

"Whatever," Blaise finished the conversation disgruntled as he walked away unsatisfied.

Draco watched Blaise stride away and Arabella seat herself at the garden table, still looking through her bag for some thing.

"Wanker," she mumbled.

Draco moved from his watching place and started to walk into the alcove, laughing lightly at Blaise's expense. This girl was good. She had fooled him and most of the guests into believing that she was innocent and ladylike, but Draco had heard her sharp tongue and seen the determined look on her face, he wanted to know more. He saw Arabella's eyes follow him as he took up a chair across the table from her. She had found what she had been looking for and had begun lighting up a cigarette, her eyes still watching him. She tilted her head to one side, in a curious manner. Draco pulled out his single cigarette and she leaned towards him to light it, her own cigarette balanced perfectly in-between her lips. Draco's eyes searched her face as she focused on his cigarette.

Her eyes seemed greener in the moonlight and when her arm brushed his he noticed how warm she was. She smelt like she'd just woken up from a bed of newly washed sheets that still had that washed freshness and a slight vanilla essence.

Draco leant back lazily and took a deep breath, blowing the smoke out slowly. He put his feet up on one of the spare chairs. He saw that she was still watching him.

"I thought that I was the only one who smoked muggle cigarettes in this place," he started. "You don't look like a smoker."

She smiled, "I've just started and looks can be deceiving."

"Oh, they can. You just proved that over there, with young Mr Zabini," Draco smirked.

"You witnessed all that then," she laughed to herself. "Did you think me young and defenceless Master Draco, just like everyone else?" she asked.

"Well you do work that angle very well, Miss Arabella."

Draco flicked his cigarette and tiny sparks flew to the ground.

"Mmm," she agreed. Arabella paused and looked around the alcove. "So where has your little follower gone then? I saw you and that dark haired girl frolicking off into the bushes just a while ago."

"Wouldn't you like to know," Draco said mysteriously with a hint of a sarcastic smile, edging onto his lips.

"Oh, I don't, but it felt like the right way to begin a conversation with the famous Draco Malfoy. Yes, I've heard all about you."

Arabella propped her elbows up on to the table and looked at him deviously as she blew out her cigarette smoke graciously.

Draco leant forward to meet her gaze and spoke seductively, "Well, Miss Ostivia, you can't believe everything you hear."

The girl sitting opposite him returned his mischievous grin.

They sat for a moment in silence. Draco stubbed out his cigarette end on the metal table, using his wand to vanish away what was left.

"I haven't seen you before at these sort of things."

"Well I have been in France for the past few years but this is my one hundred and twenty-seventh..... no, thirty seventh gathering, party, dinner, or little get-together, so I've been to my fair share unfortunately."

"You hate these things as much as I do then," Draco grinned attractively.

"Yep, playing the sweet, friendly daughter. Laughing at the stupid jokes, bowing to the hosts, perfecting a fake smile. Such a wonderful way to spend my time."

"Oh and I suppose with the Blaise arrangement you're having to follow him around now, playing the happy bride-to-be. What fun you'll have when you're married, eh?" Draco said sarcastically raising his eyebrows and nodding his head in mock encouragement.

"I did not chose to be in this situation if you are trying to say that I made a very bad decision. I don't want to marry that arrogant prick but I am a mere daughter, ready to be married off, I don't have a say in it. Not that it's ever going to happen anyway," Arabella said triumphantly.

"What do you mean, never 'going to happen'?" asked Draco, intrigued.

Arabella smiled slyly at him and he again noticed her golden hair as a strand had come loose, framing her attractive features. Her smile looked so strange, but again so natural on her innocent face.

"Shall I tell you something Draco? Can I trust you? A Malfoy?"

She looked straight into his grey eyes, studying them and he caught a glimpse of the real Arabella.

"I doubt that I could know if I can trust you, considering I've only known you a few hours, but whoever you tell, will never believe you."

Draco leant forward, extremely curious to hear what she had to say.

He'd never met anyone quite like her. She was as wrapped up in this world of appearances, power and underlying evil as he was. She had the guts to admit that it was all pointless, he could tell anyone what she said and get her into a lot of trouble and she knew it, but she had still told him. He realised that there was probably no one in the wizardry world, let alone at the party who had ever seen this side of Arabella Ostivia. She was usually hidden behind her sweetness and appearance. So Draco Malfoy waited with great interest for this stranger, Arabella, to speak.

She used her wand to vanish away the remains of her cigarette that lay on the table and then looked straight into his eyes.

"I'm going to get out," she said simply.

"Sorry," Draco questioned. "You're not making much sense my dear, been at the champagne?"

"No, I haven't. I'm serious. I'm going to get out. I'm going to get out of this false, pretentious world that is just there to cover up the sexist, prejudice attitudes of the ones who lead it. I'm going to run so far and go so deep that they will never be able to pull me out. I refuse to marry Blaise Zabini. No matter how good it is for the family, I refuse to marry someone who is chosen for me, someone I don't love. I am only sixteen, I don't want to sign myself away to some corrupt man at any age, let alone this young. We're not living in the eighteenth century anymore. That's why I have to get out."

She sat back and watched Draco's face carefully, her own face expressionless as if she'd just been talking about something simple, not talking about denying her father, going against everything she'd been brought up to be or breaking a arranged marriage that she was binded to.

Draco stared at her, uncharacteristically shocked. He'd never heard anything like it. No one could escape their family, their duties. He knew. He'd lived that way for eighteen years and here in front of him sat the most determined, beautiful girl he'd ever seen, presenting insane ideas as if they were simple facts. Draco recovered his composure and decided to question her further.

"So just how are you planning to do this then?" he asked unconvinced.

"Oh, wouldn't you like to know, Master Malfoy?" Arabella smiled secretively and Draco noticed how easily she could capture his attention again.

"All I can say is that I have over one hundred thousand galleons, in a trust fund that opened to me when I turned sixteen and I will use it wisely."

Draco took a moment to digest this, never taking his eyes off Arabella who was smoothing out the creases in her black dress that revealed a lot of her sculptured chest as the fabric hung quite low. She noticed him looking and held out her hands to reveal more.

"Don't you just love the dress," she said sarcastically. "Blaise picked it out. What wonderful taste he has, to show off 'as much of his bride as he can' is his motto, I believe."

As she finished a deep voice rang out through the willow trees. Someone was calling her name.

She sighed exasperatedly and answered in a falsely sweet tone, "Coming father."

She turned to Draco.

"I hope I haven't shocked you too much, Master Draco, but it'll be our little secret."

She got up slowly to leave, with a flick of her wand she cast a scent spell that hid the light cigarette fragrance and turned back one last time.

"Enjoy the party," she smiled.

And with that she walked away, Draco's eyes never leaving her figure as she disappeared into the shadows towards the house. He heard the muffled sounds of her explaining her behaviour towards Blaise to her father who sounded most concerned. She wiggled her way out by explaining that she had felt ill and was going to bed early because of it.

Draco listened to the fading sound of her black heels, walking away. He ran a hand through his silver blonde hair. Arabella was certainly someone he had not suspected to meet tonight, but he was very glad that he had. Something about her had struck him deeply, and it wasn't just her unbelievable attitude and views, it was her determination, her beauty and he realised that he couldn't wait to see her again.