Apology For the Devil

Chapter Seven--The Christmas Ball

Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.

[Mark Twain]

I am, in point of fact, a particularly haughty and exclusive person, of pre-Adamite ancestral descent. You will understand this when I tell you that I can trace my ancestry back to a protoplasmal primordial atomic globule. Consequently, my family pride is something inconceivable. I can't help it. I was born sneering.
[Pooh-Bah, "The Mikado"]

Lucius was being fitted for new clothing. Again. And this time it was for more than black school things. No, this outing was to buy him dress robes for the family's traditional Christmas Eve Ball.

It was the first year he'd needed new robes for the event; in previous years Lucius had spent the evening in his room with a hired nanny. He knew that he wouldn't have enjoyed the adult party anyway, but he was looking forward to being included in this year's soirée.

Thus the dress robes.

It was Madam Malkin again, and for a professional clothier she seemed to take ages to decide on what fabric to use. She'd eliminated black out of hand as far too ordinary for an event of this nature. From there, she went on to try fabric after fabric, looking for 'just the right shade.' Lucius didn't think it should be so difficult: pale skin, blond hair, grey eyes. How complex could it be?

But he suffered through pale periwinkles and deep indigos, a dark green and a bright red, satins, silks and velvets, to no avail. She'd just forced him into a hideous salmon colour when her face lit up in surprise.

'Oh! I know just the thing, dear. I'll be right back.' She bustled out of the room, leaving Lucius standing in the front of the shop wearing salmon robes. I look ridiculous, Lucius thought, and if I can tell, Madam Malkin must be out of her mind.

When she came back holding the next set of robes, he almost forgave her. The colour was gorgeous, and he hoped it would look as good on him as it did in her arms.

They were green, which is what he had asked for in the first place, and had silver detailing that made him feel very...Slytherin. The fabric was heavy and soft, not itchy like the robes he'd had to wear to formal parties in the past.

Looking in the mirror, he understood what the woman had been searching for. These were stunning, much more so than any of the others that he would have deemed adequate.

So why had they even tried the salmon before this?

Nevermind, he thought. I'm finally going to get out of here.

'Oh, love, they look just dear on you. My, aren't you handsome in that shade. Now all we've got left to do is to determine the cut. Turn around now; this might take a bit. Let's start with the neckline...'

Lucius sighed.

###

As Christmas Eve approached, the whole household became busy. While save-the-date cards had been flown out weeks ago, formal invitations had to be issued. His mother insisted on addressing them by hand. While Lucius appreciated that her calligraphy was very good, he wondered if it was really the best use of her time, given that they were inviting 65 households. Most were married couples, and some would bring older children, so it was likely that approximately 150 people would be coming to the Malfoy Christmas Ball.

The Manor also had to be readied. The party would occupy the first floor, not including the west wing that held only guest bedrooms.

It was a longstanding tradition that the three Malfoys would hang the garlands and decorate a massive tree by hand. And by wand, naturally. Because he had learned the Hover Charm in his first year, Lucius could help to decorate the upper branches for the first time. When they were through with the ornaments, icicles and fairies, his father would cast a sweeping spell to drape tinsel over the branches.

The house-elves were busy too. The kitchens beneath the house were preparing food in massive quantities, and the wine cellar was full to bursting.

On the night of the ball, Lucius put on his new dress robes and combed his sleek hair until it lay perfectly flat. He smiled at his reflection.

'You look quite sharp. Now go downstairs to meet your guests,' the mirror said approvingly. And as long as I have the approval of my bedroom mirror, he thought wryly, what could go wrong?

He did not go to greet the guests, primarily because they weren't due to arrive for another half hour. Instead, he went upstairs to his parents' room.

His mother was dressed in a deep navy dress robe, a shade that Lucius thought Madam Malkin might have tried on him. Regardless, Mrs. Malfoy looked stunning. Her hair was piled up on her head, not a wisp out of place, and she'd done something to make it glimmer in the light. She had done her face in soft tones that made her look ten years younger than she was.

'She's gorgeous, isn't she?' Abraxas had come to stand beside his wife, and Lucius could only nod yes to the question.

His mother turned her head to her husband, and the two exchanged a quick, chaste kiss.

Which was something Lucius had never wanted to see.

His father motioned that the lady of the house should lead the way, and the three of them descended to the Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball.

###

Once the guests started arriving, Lucius' attention was spent on looking for people he knew. He was pleased to find that there were a number of Hogwarts students. Lucius only knew the names of those who were in his year, but he at least recognized the others. He looked in vain for a one-armed man, but it seemed he wouldn't be able to use that paragraph of his knowledge. Shame, really.

But he saw Austin Grady, who had almost stood up for him in his fight with the Gryffindors. Not a fight, really...more of a conflict. He was pleased to not see Clay Singer, who was a pureblood, though not from a particularly old or influential family. He saw Mrs. Parkinson and her fourth-year daughter. The Abercrombies, with their Gryffindor son Owen; the Fletchers, Greers, Dawes and Kimballs...

It was something else to see his schoolmates dressed in formal robes, rather than the practical black every-day wear. He wondered what they thought of him, and he stood a little straighter.

Lucius had hoped that Lance might come, and noted his absence in passing. He hadn't seen his Sponsor since the end of the school year, and wondered how the older boy was faring.

All of his parents' friends had come, along with some of his father's business partners and his mother's circle of socialites. Not that Lucius could really tell any one from the other, but he definitely spied representatives from each of the groups.

For his part, Lucius quickly found Brice Carden, Cato Lee, and Goyle, the ever-present shadow. He felt comfortable in their company and was having a good time until his mother showed up.

She interrupted his conversation with his friends and pulled him aside on the pretext of needing to introduce him to one of her acquaintances.

'Now, Lucius, surely you don't want to spend the whole evening talking to the same people. Why don't you go mingle with some of the other guests?' She left him, presumably to mingle herself.

Brilliant, Lucius thought morosely. He was suddenly glad that he'd followed the suggestion to read the bloody etiquette books.

He went into the music room, hoping he'd see someone looking approachable. No luck.

All of the guests in the room were adults, and they seemed to persist in either sitting on chairs and couches for one-on-one conversations, or they stood in tight circles. The circles always involved lots of laughter and lots of alcohol.

Lucius wondered how he was ever going to talk to anyone. He dearly wanted to return to his friends. He frowned. Or, barring that, to hide under a table for the rest of the night.

Just as he was about to panic, he spotted his father standing in one of those infernal circles. But Lucius felt comfortable joining that circle, certain that his father would help him if he got stuck in a situation he wasn't prepared for.

'Ah, there you are Lucius. Gentlemen, this is my son Lucius.' He put a strong hand on Lucius' shoulder.

'It's very nice to meet you, Lucius--'

'So glad to meet you--'

'He looks so much like you, Mr. Malfoy--'

'No, I'd say he takes after his mother--'

'I've heard so much about you, son.'

Trying to follow the head-spinning round of introductions that followed their opening comments, Lucius was swiftly becoming a bit muddled. It got worse when the group turned away from him and began to discuss the problems that resulted from the new tax on imported dragon dung, of which there were many, apparently. Not only was it utterly incomprehensible, but Lucius didn't care. Yet with his father's hand still holding his shoulder firmly, he stayed to listen. And tried to look interested.

After some minutes, they began to realise that Lucius was still there. They tried to include him, a gesture for which he was infinitely grateful.

'So you're in your second year, Lucius?'

'Yes sir, at Hogwarts.'

'Ah, yes. And do you take after your father? Slytherin all the way?'

Lucius grinned. 'Yes, sir.'

And then, as adults are wont to do, the men began reminiscing about their own school years. Lucius realized that adults enjoyed living vicariously through children, especially when one man asked him to recount the lessons he'd had so far in Charms, and when another made him describe each of his professors in great detail.

Not that he minded--it was better than dragon dung.

The next hours were a blur of introductions. Abraxas introduced his son to practically every business contact he had, and Lucius tried to remember as many of them as he could. It was hard when they all looked so much alike. He could sometimes distinguish them by their clothes, even though he knew that was a stupid way to remember people. The conversations inevitably concluded with a comment about how charming Lucius was.

He wanted to talk in the conversations but he'd been strictly told that it was better to say nothing than to sound foolish. Since he had very little idea as to what constituted 'foolish,' he stayed silent.

The only times he felt free to talk were the conversations about Hogwarts. He enjoyed those, but refrained as much as he could from editorializing. He thought that those might fall in the 'foolish' category.

Things were going swimmingly until Abraxas excused himself. Lucius was left behind with the conversation. With a slight smirk, Lucius realised that he now was in one of the tight circles of conversation, and he didn't even have his father with him.

He stayed there for roughly the next hour, and by then he was talking with an entirely new group of people. One by one the men had left, being replaced by a wife, a friend, a brother, or an acquaintance of another person in the circle. It meant that Lucius had to answer the same inane questions over and over, but things could be worse. He could still be standing in the middle of the room alone, or sitting under a table somewhere.

Finally, after what felt like the fifteenth round of 'oh, absolutely; school is marvellous,' Lucius excused himself on the pretext of wanting something from the buffet.

Having extricating himself from conversation in the lounge, he turned towards the Manor's east wing where the buffet was set up. He stopped as he passed the ballroom door when he saw his parents.

They were dancing. Lucius knew nothing about dancing, nor was he particularly interested, but even he noticed how his parents outshined the other couples on the floor. His parents glided across the floor without any effort, circling the perimeter of the dance floor, making tight spins on each quick count of three. As the dance came to a close, his mother was flushed with excitement and breathless from the frenetic dance.

She reached for Abraxas' arm, expecting him to escort her off the floor, but he did no such thing. Instead, he took her back into position, clearly set to dance another. Lucius couldn't hear the ensuing conversation, but it looked like his mother was trying to talk his father out of it. Eventually--predictably--she grinned indulgently and laid her hand on his upper arm.

The next dance was a slow waltz, and Lucius watched his parents curiously. He'd never seen them dancing before, and they'd changed completely from the way they normally behaved. He didn't recognize the look of pure love that the couple exchanged, but he could tell that something was different.

Lucius began meandering towards the exit, but soon realized that the way out of the ballroom was blocked by scores of guests. He sighed, and turned to watch the dancing. The music began, and the couples started to move. Lucius couldn't tell one step from the other, though he did think it was brilliant when Abraxas lifted his wife into the air.

'They're so perfect,' the woman next to him whispered to her date. Lucius tried to understand what was so exciting about it, and why nearly two-thirds of their guests were standing to watch the assorted dancers. He soon gave up. It must be an adult thing.

The music ended, and his parents returned to reality, swiftly adopting their normal manners. Abraxas led his wife off the dance floor, and they turned their attention back to their guests.

Lucius hurried away before they could see him, knowing that he was supposed to be playing host as well.

After fleeing the ballroom, Lucius was alone once more, trying to break into a circle of conversation.

Lucius now had a strategy: he looked for someone he knew, greeted them, and they in turn would introduce him to the rest of the group. It worked brilliantly.

He saw Slughorn, who insisted on introducing him to two dozen people--influential people, Lucius was sure. He met one of them again later on, and they were both pleased when Lucius remembered his name.

When he saw one of his classmates standing in a circle of adults, usually with his or her parent, he used that as an opening.

'It's very nice to meet you, Mister Iverson. I've heard nothing but good things about you from Meredith.'

'Aren't you charming. It's a pleasure to meet you too, Master Malfoy.'

He got that a lot too. Mister for the father, Master for the son. Lucius had read it somewhere, but he'd never expected people to use the formal and archaic title.

He wended his way over to a conversation composed of older Slytherin students, most of whom were ASPS members. Lucius approached with some nervousness, as he didn't want to say or do anything that might cause him to lose status with these people. But he knew he had to go speak with them because, after all, this was his party. That, and it really shouldn't be as much of a big deal as Lucius was making it.

'Good evening,' he said, joining the circle when there was a lull in the conversation. 'Are you all enjoying yourselves?'

Sandra Jugson, a seventh year, looked at him with amusement, which Lucius studiously ignored. He was determined to make some sort of presence felt.

'We're doing quite well,' said Neil Watson, breaking the awkward moment. 'It's a splendid party.'

'This is the first time you've attended, Lucius?' asked a sixth year named Rosier.

'Yes,' he replied. 'Father wanted me to meet some of his associates.'

'Really?' Rosier said with a significant look at his peers. 'I wasn't aware that anybody important would be interested in meeting children.'

'I've been able to meet quite a few people,' Lucius said airily, hoping he sounded impressive.

'And I'm sure they were delighted,' Jugson said with a pointed look at Rosier, who was smirking.

'Delighted,' repeated a seventh-year that Lucius didn't know.

'I--' Lucius shifted his weight, suddenly uncomfortable. 'It was lovely talking to you; I hope you continue to enjoy yourselves.' He gave a curt nod, and, without waiting for any response, he turned on his heel and strode off.

He saw a smaller group of older Slytherins, including the Lestrange brothers and Verity Rheine, another ASPS member. Standing with them was Ahearn Zabini, an ASPS member whose mother was a close companions of Lucius' mother. He tried to work up the courage to go talk with them, but after the less than comfortable conversation he'd just had, it didn't seem like a terribly good idea. Instead, he retreated to the comfortable company of Goyle and Brice, who had been joined by Meredith and Meta. The five of them made up the pure-blooded Slytherin contingent from his year. Cato Lee had slipped away to go mingle with his older brother, a Ravenclaw sixth year.

Then his mother found him. Again. She seemed to be determined that Lucius not socialize with anyone his age. Probably 'grooming me for society' or something, Lucius thought glumly.

Fortunately, the group she led him to had some Hogwarts students as well as adults. Lucius cheered silently.

'Lucius, these are the Blacks. I believe you have met Bellatrix and Andromeda?'

'Yes, mother.' He turned to the two girls. Bellatrix he knew from ASPS, but he'd only seen Andromeda once or twice. He vaguely remembered a third sister, and guessed that she must be a first-year. At least I can tell these people apart, he thought cynically.

'It's very nice to see you outside of school,' Lucius continued. 'Are you having a good holiday?'

As the children conversed, Lucius' mother and Mrs. Black shifted away. It left Lucius alone with the Black girls--fine with him; at least they were younger than forty.

Not only were they younger than forty, they were capable of carrying on interesting conversation. After Lucius' questionable exchange with the group of older Slytherins, it was nice to have a fifth year not look at him like he was a child.

After monopolizing them for what bordered on an impolite amount of time, he sighed inwardly and moved to leave them.

'I really should go and meet some of the other guests, but it was lovely to see you,' he said, and kissed Andromeda's hand. 'I hope we can talk more once we're back at school.' He kissed Bellatrix's hand. 'Have a good end of holiday.'

'And you too, Lucius,' Bellatrix said. 'It was very nice to get to know you.'

Andromeda said nothing until Bellatrix shot her a look. 'It's a grand party, Lucius, and thank you for having us.'

'Of course,' Lucius responded, and went off to find someone else to greet.

Merlin, but parties were exhausting!

###

Lucius walked to his father's room after the last guests had left.

'Father?'

'Yes, Lucius?' His father was undoing the ridiculous number of buttons that came with all formal dress robes.

'What you did tonight at the party--I don't mean the socialising, because I have read the book you gave me, and I think I did alright, but what I wanted to know was--'

'Lucius, you are babbling,' Abraxas said, fixing his son with a stare. Lucius flushed.

'I'm sorry, I--'

'It's alright, so long as you get to the point.'

'Right. Erm, why was everyone watching you and mother dancing? You looked...different from normal, but I didn't understand why people were so interested.'

'When did you see us dancing?' his father asked sharply.

'I shouldn't have; I should have been with the guests, and I know that, but I was walking to the dining room, and saw you, and I had to stop and watch, because everyone else--'

'Lucius.'

'Right. Sorry.'

'Thank you.'

'It...won't happen again.'

'Do see that it doesn't.'

'Yes, father.' Lucius looked at the floor, and began fidgeting slightly. Abraxas sighed.

'To return to the topic at hand: firstly, I don't want you to think that your mother and I were neglecting our guests. Many of our acquaintances expect us to take the floor for a dance or two.' Lucius nodded; people had certainly seemed interested.

'As it happens, your mother and I are...fond of dancing.'

'Why?'

His father stared at some point far in the distance.

'It is difficult to explain why a thing is beautiful, Lucius. When you are older, I promise you will understand. When you are old enough, you will also begin instruction in dancing so that you may participate at future events. In the meantime, there are other things to be taught.'

Dancing lessons?

'Yes, Father.' His voice plainly showed that his understanding of the matter had not changed at all during the conversation, but both father and son knew that there would be no further discussion on the topic.

'May I ask you another question, Father?' Lucius asked politely.

'Certainly; what is it?'

'Why wasn't Lance at the party tonight?'

'Lance who?' his father responded distractedly.

'Lance Poole, my Sponsor from last year.'

'Did you want him there so much?'

'No, I just...I saw a lot of other older Slytherins, and wondered why he hadn't come.'

'He likely didn't come because he wasn't invited,' Abraxas responded as if he was hazarding a guess instead of supplying a reason.

'Why not?' Lucius demanded. Lance had been a very helpful Sponsor, and not a bad person at all.

'He was not invited because his parents are Muggles.'

'You're joking!' Lucius was aghast. His father raised a disapproving eyebrow. 'I mean...not that you joke, or anything.' Abraxas pursed his lips.

Right, Lucius, he told himself, first rule of holes: when you're in one, stop digging.

'I thought that mudbloods were supposed to be clumsy, and stupid and...different, I guess,' Lucius finished. Abraxas sighed, gave up on the buttons, and drew up two chairs with a wordless wave of his wand.

'Sit down, Lucius.'

They settled themselves into the chairs, still in their formal robes, and Abraxas continued.

'Mudbloods are exactly like you just said, Lucius, but many of them are quite good at pretending they are not.'

'So Lance was pretending?'

'Possibly. More likely, though, he believed the image that he was showing to other people--he probably thinks that he was every bit the wizard that you are.' Lucius recoiled at his father's words, disgusted that they might be true.

'But how could he think that? He's not. He's a mudblood and I'm a Malfoy. That means that he's less civilized. He hasn't grown up in wizard culture.'

'Yet if he has grown up without wizard culture, how could he know what he has missed? Lucius, all mudbloods believe that they understand us. They think it's all about the wand, and the spells and the magic.'

'But that's not what matters at all!'

'That's true,' his father confirmed blithely.

'So why do they believe it?'

'They're mudbloods, Lucius--' he paused in thought for a moment. 'What do you think magic is?'

That was sudden, Lucius thought, and really philosophical...

'I think it's...a part of us that we can use to make things around us change?'

'Would you characterise it as closer to your hand, or closer to a hammer?'

'My hand, definitely.'

'Because you can use your hand to feel, explore and influence anything around you in an infinite number of ways,' Abraxas finished for him, and Lucius nodded.

'To a mudblood, Lucius, magic is more like a hammer. It's a tool. If a person owns it, or in this case, if a person can do magic, he can use that tool to make things as he wishes them to be.'

'But magic doesn't work like that! It's like...it's a part of us.'

'Yes, it is. But for mudbloods, whose parents aren't magical, magic seems like a great gift, one that they must take advantage of. They feel that they must use it, do you see? Using it means casting spells, making potions, and expending power via brute strength. Purebloods understand that the magic does not go away the instant one stops casting a spell. It's always there, only sometimes dormant. It still helps us to feel our way.'

'And they don't know that? Why not? If they've got magic, it means they should know that it doesn't just go away when you aren't using it for something.'

'Yes,' Abraxas answered mildly, 'but that's not how a mudblood sees it. You see, Lucius, you can never really understand them. And that's why they can never really understand you.'

'So that's why they pretend they're as good as us?'

'Yes, Lucius. Most of the time, they truly believe they are doing things the way you or I would. But if you look closely, you'll see that the attitude is completely different, somehow warped.'

'So...we are better.' Lucius was pleased at the simple, three word conclusion.

'Better at being wizards, certainly. But remember that mudbloods are better at being muggles than you or I would ever be.'

'So?' Lucius asked. 'Why would I ever want to be a muggle?'

'Just remember that if you did, you would be as out of place there as they are here.'

'But they chose to come here. They can't just expect things to be the same as they are in the muggle world. They can't think that things work the same way, can they?'

'They can, Lucius, and they do.'

'But it's our world! We belong here. And that means that we understand how it works better than anyone. If a mudblood doesn't agree, he should just go back to the muggle world that he does understand. Don't they know that their place in our world is different?'

'And do you think that Lance was behaving appropriately for his birth?'

'I--' Lucius stopped to think about it for a moment before continuing heatedly. 'No, he wasn't. He kept trying to tell me how to be a better wizard. But he wouldn't really know what being a good wizard is about! I should have been explaining the wizarding world to him.' His angry eyes met his father's affirmative stare.

'I understand now, Father. I understand what it is to be pure.'