Strangers Can Change Everything

The ten-foot high, nineteenth century grandfather cloak struck eight. The sheer clang of the hands vibrated through the halls. The remainder of the Malfoy's guests, who had stayed on after yesterday evening, were gathered in the main lounge that was lavishly furnished with long serpent, green couches accompanied by low coffee tables and the wide windows were decorated with expensive ceiling high white-velvet curtains.

All were dressed smartly for the formal dinner that was due to begin at half past eight. The majority of the woman sat talking on the couches, while the men stood. Narcissa sat in the centre of the room, entertaining the women.

Draco watched the guests from the dining room through the half-opened door that hid him. He had his hair slicked back, showing his strong jaw and handsome eyes, he was dressed in a black tailored suit with a dark green shirt underneath. His had his hands deep in his pockets as he lazily watched the guests from afar without too much interest. The maids were preparing the table, laying out the best silver cutlery and lining the long dark oak with candles. They scuttled around silently, not daring to chat together in front of their Master's son.

Draco saw Miss Ostivia and her father enter the lounge. Arabella looked perfectly normal, showing no signs of her ordeal just the night before. She wore a white gown that was tight at the chest but hung freely from there. Her hair was curled and pinned with a few golden coils left loose to trail down her back and neck. She reminded Draco of the Greek gods with her white robes and piled hair. Her formal smile made her look older, and it took a moment for Draco to remember that she was only sixteen. Draco had pushed the events of last night out of his mind. It was just one of those things. Arabella had dealt with it, and it had not really been his business to worry about, though the scared look that had flooded her blue eyes was something that Draco did not want to see again.

He watched the Parkinson family approach and greet the Ostivias. Pansy looked very glum; she had obviously taken a great dislike to Arabella after seeing Draco's interest in her last evening. Blaise Zabini then walked up to Mr. Ostivia, shaking his hand and exchanging a word or two. He then greeted Arabella, and she took his arm as he led her to one of the couches to join the rest of the Zabini family. Draco's eyes narrowed as he saw a flicker of anxiety wash over Arabella's face at the feel of Blaise's touch. But the flicker disappeared as quickly as it had formed. Draco was very impressed with her amount of control.

"She is very striking, is she not, Draco?" a voice spoke quietly behind him.

Draco turned to meet his father who had been following his son's gaze. Lucius was wearing long black robes with a green belt and matching scarf that was tucked into his jacket. His hair was immaculate, shimmering in the candlelight. He continued to watch Arabella as he talked to Draco.

"I was talking to her father last night. He has become unhappy with the arranged marriage to Mr. Zabini and was seeking my counsel, though nothing has been decided."

Draco watched his father's eyes, listening to the faraway sound of the guests talking in the lounge. Why is he telling me this? Draco pondered. Though he knew that his father did not tell him things that were unnecessary, so he listened.

"She is quite the prize, but I believe that there is more under that sweet surface. You can almost see her eyes filling with information, taking in everything that she witnesses. She is much like your mother when I first met her." Lucius blinked slowly, directing his enchanting eyes to Draco. "I have asked her father if she would like to stay for the summer. Mr. Ostivia is working in town and he worries about leaving her, which is quite understandable. The Zabinis are going to Italy to visit some relations, and therefore, I think that she'd be better here. Her father agreed immediately, and she was told of the arrangement this morning. Her belongings have been sent for."

Draco nodded as his father spoke. Arabella, staying here, what a summer this is turning into, Draco thought casually. He wondered how Arabella had reacted to the news. She hardly knew the Malfoys, and now, she was being forced to spend her whole summer here, away from home. He did not think that she would be too happy, but it would be an escape from Blaise.

"Does that suit you, Draco?" Lucius broke his son's train of thought.

"Yes, that is fine," Draco answered accordingly.

"I think that you will be good for her, Draco, a solid male in her life is what she needs. Her father is often busy, though it's no fault of his own, and young Master Zabini is not what I would call a fine young man," Lucius finished.

Draco had to agree with his father; Blaise was an idiot, but he was not sure what his father meant by a 'solid male'. He looked back at his father who smiled knowingly at him.

"Shall we announce dinner, Draco?" Lucius ordered, rather than asked as he went to open the towering dining room door. Draco followed in his wake.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for waiting so patiently. Please come in and take your seats. Dinner, is now served," Lucius's clear voice rang through the room.

The guests made their way towards the open doors, Narcissa followed behind, allowing Lucius to pull out her chair and seat her down. Draco sat opposite his mother, and she smiled gently at him. Each chair had a sparkling silver name that hovered above it. As each person sat in his or her allocated chair, the name turned to dust and disappeared. Lucius stood up waiting for all of the guests to find their seats. Draco watched Crabbe and Goyle trudge around the table stupidly. Pansy's face formed into a creased frown as she found that she was not seated by Draco as she usually was. Mr. Ostivia sat by Narcissa, and Miss Ostivia found her seat by Lucius. She sat down gracefully and smiled at Lucius charmingly. Draco watched Arabella barely hide an exasperated sigh as Blaise found his seat beside her and placed his left hand on her right loosely. Mr. Zabini took his place on Draco's left and Mrs. Parkinson sat on his right. This is going to be a long dinner, Draco thought.

The wine was poured, and the first course served; the long table buzzed with conversations. Mr. Zabini leaned across to Lucius and began praising his home once again.

"Such an exquisite room this is, Lucius and Narcissa," he continued, boring the other guests.

"Thank you, George, we only have the best," Narcissa replied politely.

"It would be the perfect place for the wedding, wouldn't you say, Marcus?" Mr. Zabini asked Mr. Ostivia in his overly exaggerated, pompous accent. "Of course, only if Narcissa and Lucius would honour us in allowing us to use their wonderful home," he added.

"Lets not get too hasty now, George," Marcus Ostivia interrupted.

"I was just merely suggesting, Marcus, quite exciting to think of, that's all!" he replied joyfully. "Wouldn't it be lovely, Arabella dear?"

"You do have a wonderful home, Lord and Lady Malfoy," she answered, "but we wouldn't want to intrude, and I did not think that the wedding would be for some months yet," she added to George Zabini.

"Sooner than later, my dear!" Mr. Zabini chuckled.

Draco saw Arabella grimace.

"It would be perfect," Blaise agreed with his father.

Lucius leant back in his high-backed chair, placing an arm around his wife and beckoned the waiter that stood behind him to fill his glass. "We will have to see," he answered not so enthusiastically but without being rude to the Zabinis.

Draco could almost hear Arabella let out a sigh of relief that that conversation was over. As Draco knew, it was not a subject which she generally liked discussing. She sat stiffly in her chair, sitting as far away as possible from Blasie's arm that was draped around her waist in a territorial manner.

The main course was served, and the table was lined with a wide variety of different extravagant dishes. Narcissa and Mrs. Parkinson were talking about Diagon Alley's lack of decent dress shops, Lucius and Mr. Ostivia were deep in conversation about the Ministry, and Blaise avoided eye contact with Draco. Mr. Zabini was questioning Draco about his final Quidditch game that he had played at Hogwarts when Slytherin had won the Quidditch Cup more successfully than any other team in Hogwarts history. Draco answered politely when necessary and nodded appropriately, though his expression was stiff and anyone who took the time to notice, would realise that he had absolutely no interest in what Mr. Zabini was saying, and that his words were washing over Draco like a systematic tide.

Draco suddenly felt a strange sensation, as if someone was staring at him. He looked momentarily out of the corner of his eye, across the table, and caught Arabella watching him curiously. She immediately lowered her eyes as he noticed her, but she smiled briefly, and Draco realised that she could see straight through his perfected blank expression as she was wearing exactly the same one. He continued to focus his attention on Mr. Zabini, but a smile curled onto one side of his mouth as his eyes flicked across the table now and again, catching Arabella's as she glanced back. This dancing of eye contact prolonged during the rest of the meal, and Arabella could barely keep herself from giggling childishly. Draco let a smug grin settle on his face; he liked making her laugh. As she spoke to Blaise, he enjoyed being the actual centre of her attention; her eyes snatching glances from under her eyelashes as she charmed the guests with her innocent manner and young, pretty looks.

Draco was so fixed upon this little game that he did not notice his father watching him for some time. But as he reached for his wineglass, his gaze was caught by his father's searching look that was both warning, but strangely knowing.

Draco looked back questioningly, and Lucius Malfoy ever so slightly, almost unnoticeably tilted his head towards the seat of Blaise. Draco followed and watched Blaise tighten his grip on Arabella's waist and saw her stiffen. Draco realised that his father had seen him catching looks at Arabella, and she returning them. He was warning him ever so slightly to be wary. Blaise was a very possessive man. Draco knew that he would not let go of Arabella now that he had got her, and though he was not very intelligent, he could easily become angry at any hint of Draco moving onto his territory, just innocently or not. Arabella's binding situation became apparent again and Draco felt suddenly very frustrated. In all of his life, nothing as simple as a girl's attention had ever been out of bounds or not given to him happily. His elegant charm and unmatchable handsome features had made sure of that.

He slouched back into his chair and when Arabella's eyes wandered over his face again he did not return the look, how could he continue with this harmless flirting when the fun and adventure was sucked out of it so easily.

The dinner finally came to an end, and the kitchen maids came to clear the plates. The candles were burning low, and the guests were growing tired. Narcissa made her excuses and departed to bed early at eleven and slowly the guests followed in twos and threes until only Draco, his father, and Mr Ostivia were alone. Mr. Zabini made his merry farewells, and the three were left together.

"Goddam that man! I thought he'd never leave," Mr Ostivia grunted, commenting on Mr. Zabini.

"Now, now Marcus. It was your decision, too. You agreed to the marriage, therefore you have to deal with the in-laws," Lucius commented calmly.

"That was when I thought that the match was an excellent social link, but I don't care how respected that man is; I don't think that I can have him as an in-law, no matter the business advantages."

Draco shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He knew that marriage was always seen as a business move among the higher families. He was prepared to be part of one himself, but he did not like the off-hand manner in which Mr Ostivia discussed his daughter's future, as if it were merely a game move. He reached for his wineglass and drank quickly.

"I understand your concern, Marcus. I does seem to be a bit of a waste. Your daughter will make a grand bride for she is very young, but she needs a great husband to match. The Zabinis are not well known for their intelligence, and I would never consider allowing Mr Zabini into the circle, no matter how much he tries to prove himself. He is not worthy of our Lord," Lucius replied slyly.

His eyes glinted mysteriously, and Draco watched. He did not like it when his father got that look and he prepared to make his excuses and leave. As soon as Lucius mentioned the 'circle' or You-Know-Who, the conversation never followed in a way that Draco wished to be part of.

"You are right, Lucius. Of course you are. You are always right." Marcus Ostivia spoke appreciatively.

"Naturally, Marcus," Lucius answered.

Draco took the pause in the conversation as his opportunity, and he stood up quickly. His father's ever-watchful eyes followed his son's movements.

"Leaving so soon, Draco?" Lucius asked curiously.

"Terribly sorry, Father. I'm just very tired; I need a goodnight's rest. Goodnight, Mr. Ostivia."

With that, Draco marched quickly from the room to avoid further questioning and listening to his father and Mr. Ostivia return to their conversation. He walked purposely out of the oak doors and apparated up to his room. He drew out his wand and placed a locking charm on the door, locking out the world so that nothing disturbed him; he wanted no company.

The following morning, after a terrible night's sleep, Draco slowly slithered exasperatedly out from under his twisted cream sheets that had become tangled after a restless sleep. Along the hall, Miss Ostivia had been awake for over an hour to her annoyance; she was not naturally an early bird.

'You should be happy, ma'am," Lucy, Arabella's room maid told her as she helped Arabella into green peacock, 1920's style dress robe that had an off-the-shoulder style neck-line and hung just above the ground, concealing her bare feet.

Arabella watched herself miserably in the long enchanted mirror that randomly complimented her on her outfit. Her golden hair had been elegantly fashioned by Lucy so that it was all held in a bun at the base of her neck, small curls framed her face.

Her father had departed to London almost straight after the dinner party the evening before. He had organised a maid to drop a letter under her room door, which told her of the situation. She had glumly read the squiggly black words that explained that she was to stay at Malfoy Manor for the remainder of the summer, but she had set fire to the parchment before she had finished. She had no time for her father's excuses; she'd heard it all before. His promises to visit her soon, his business excuses that he found so important were all lies, and she had not even glanced at his instructions that told her to behave herself and thank Lucius for looking after her. Arabella was not happy staying at Malfoy Manor; she had heard the rumours about what supposedly went on underneath the exquisite carpets and overall respectable appearances. The Dark Lord's second home people called it. Arabella shivered slightly at the thought but pushed the ideas out of her head. Draco would be her only salvation, but she had her doubts about him, was he his father's son or was the hint of good in him that Arabella had detected two nights ago enough to make him a decent person, her head spun with questions.

"It does suit you terribly well, Miss Ostivia," Lucy commented on the dress that Lucius had sent up to Arabella as a welcoming present.

Arabella did not care for the delicate fabric. She would rather have been in something more comfortable, but she had to 'uphold her image' as her father always reminded her. Arabella's mind strayed to her ruined plans that she was going to set into motion this summer; she would have to scrap the lot now, under the Malfoy eye she would never be able to sneak out like she did at home. She sighed heavily, her breathing slightly hampered by the dresses tight corset, and Lucy looked at her in the mirror anxiously.

"You won't be here for long, ma'am." Lucy said suddenly serious.

"Sorry?" Arabella snapped out of her daze.

"You will not be here for so long," Lucy answered solemnly. "Mrs. Malfoy is kind under her stone surface; Master Malfoy is not as harsh as his father and just try and ignore Mr. Malfoy's mind games."

Arabella looked at Lucy quite surprised. It was very rare for a servant to ever speak out about their masters; Lucy could be severely punished for being so outspoken. The young maid looked up at Arabella and smiled knowingly with an encouraging expression, though her smile was not happy, just simple.

"There you are, ma'am," Lucy changed back to her quiet tone, smoothing out the sides of Miss Ostivia's dress appropriately.

Arabella moved her attention from Lucy to her own reflection. She nodded thankfully but moved quickly away; she was not concerned with her appearance though she was thankful for Lucy's efforts. She put her head up and loosened her shoulders back, mentally deciding to forget that she was trapped at Malfoy manor and look on the positive side; it would be an experience at least she smiled slightly. Lucy opened the door for her and she strode out, ready to join the Malfoy's for breakfast.

"Good luck, Arabella," Lucy said quietly as she disappeared down the corridor.

Arabella descended the extravagant staircase, holding onto the black iron banister. The ornamental serpent decoration on the iron almost made her chuckle, will the Malfoy's stop at nothing when emphasising their Slytherin background?

Arabella stopped at the bottom of the stairway and glanced from side to side. She suddenly realised that she had no idea where she was supposed to be going. Where was the Malfoy Manor breakfast room?

Suddenly a dark shadow engulfed Arabella and she turned, startled, to meet the solemn face of a tall, butler fashioned man.

The lines around his mouth and frown crinkles between his eyes were the only real give-away of his age. He stood perfectly upright; peering down at Arabella from over his rather large and extravagant moustache which turned out at the sides, a black frame for his tight-lipped mouth.

"I believe that the Malfoy's are waiting for you in the breakfast room. You are obviously having problems getting there or else you wouldn't be dawdling here on the stairs, Miss Ostivia." The man spoke in a very deep tone that lacked any emotion. "Please follow me."

With that the man swept past her, his jacket tail ends moving dramatically as he paced alone the corridor which was lined with old family portraits, with Arabella hurrying along behind. The butler man carried on at an extraordinary pace through a set of doors, around another corner until he reached a slightly open oak door that let light flood in to the dark halls. Arabella breathlessly scurried up, taking a second to check her hair before the man opened the door fully to allow her in. She walked into the room that was very large and generously decorated considering it was only a breakfast area. Lavish blood red curtains were drawn back on the four ceiling high windows that were on the back wall. A large wooden table and several high-back chairs were the only furniture.

"I found Miss Ostivia looking rather lost and escorted her here, sir," the butler said, announcing her entrance.

From behind a large spread-out newspaper emerged the perfectly preened head of Lucius Malfoy. Draco was sitting across from his father, and Narcissa was on the far side. Draco looked up silently, and Narcissa smiled at Arabella warmly. Lucius rose from his seat and smiled charmingly, replying to the butler.

"Thank you, Thomas. We were beginning to think that Miss Ostivia had overslept," Mr. Malfoy replied, turning to Arabella and pulling out the nearest chair. Lucius addressed her in his usual fashion. "Please take a seat, my dear. You must be hungry. You may go now, Thomas."

"Very well, sir", Thomas replied before leaving silently, closing the heavy door behind him.

Arabella took up her chair gracefully, and she politely began to pour herself some tea and take a piece of toast offered to her by Narcissa.

"Did you sleep well, Arabella?" Narcissa questioned in a friendly manner.

"Yes, I slept very well, thank you," she replied appropriately. Arabella almost grimaced at the sweetly artificial tone that dripped off of her every word, but it was how she was expected to act; her father's strict teachings rattled around her head.

"Well, I hope that the note from your father was not too surprising this morning. I think that your father made a good decision when deciding your summer arrangements. I hope that you will enjoy your stay here at Malfoy Manor," Lucius spoke calmly. "Draco, I'm sure will enjoy your company, won't you, Draco?"

Draco snapped out of his slight daze, his mind was not really on the morning chit-chat.

"Um.... yes. I'm sure that it will be fine," he said simply, his eyes darting towards Arabella. He didn't like the dress that his father had sent up to Arabella; he felt that it made her look like a doll, too perfect, as if she would break. She has more character than that, he thought.

"Why don't you take our lovely guest for a tour of the grounds after breakfast, Draco? She might as well get to know the place that she will be stay for the next two months," Lucius suggested, his eye's glowing brilliantly as if he was plotting even as he spoke. Lucius turned to his wife and placed his hand on top of hers. "I have a lot of serious business matters to attend to today, my love, and will be spending most of my time downstairs with Mr. Crabbe and Goyle. Will you join me, or are you going into town?"

At the mention of 'business,' Narcissa almost flinched but regained her composure very quickly.

"I do have friends to meet in town, Lucius, if that's alright with you?" Narcissa answered plainly.

"Fine, fine. Go where you must." Lucius rose from the table, kissing his wife's hand in a farewell gesture, nodding towards Arabella and Draco. "I must leave. Enjoy the tour, Arabella, and I will see you this afternoon. Be the perfect gentleman, Draco," Lucius added, smiling mischievously at his son as he departed theatrically.

"I best be going, too." Narcissa kissed Draco softly on the forehead and followed her husband out. Draco and Arabella were left on opposite sides of the large table, a parade of half eaten croissants, teacups and cutlery between them.

"I'm glad that's over," Draco said quietly, the end of sentence becoming muffled as he stuck a cigarette into the corner of his mouth and placed his feet up on the table lazily. Arabella watched him curiously.

"You smoke in the house? Don't any of the staff tell your father about your Muggle habit?" she asked.

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Do you not think that after eighteen years of living with me they are not yet completely petrified of me and wouldn't dare do anything to anger me?"

Arabella looked into his hard grey eyes for a second, her expression thoughtful as she finished the last of her tea.

"You know, Draco" - she spoke slowly - "you shouldn't be so proud of having people live in fear of you. It's not a very attractive quality in a person you know."

"And why would I need any attractive qualities? Don't you think that my charm and good-looks do well enough?" he said arrogantly with a hint of sarcasm in his words.

Arabella sighed exasperatedly. "Whatever helps you to sleep at night, Draco." She moved her chair out and walked across to him, perching on the edge of the table, "So we going on this tour then, or are you going to stay here being egotistical all day?"

"Fine, let's go flaunt even more of the Malfoy wealth, if that's what you really want to do." He did not wait for her reply and swaggered out towards the main hall.