Stairway to Heaven

By the time Draco arrived at Blaise's rooms for breakfast, Misty had perfumed and made up Blaise a hundred times over. Finally content, the girl was wearing a light Cosmetic Charm and a sensuous pout, just for Draco.

Blaise was seated at a magically conjured table when Misty let Draco into the room. She smiled up at him with dark eyes and gestured at the seat across from her. "Dahling. I'm so happy you came."

Misty almost gagged when Draco smiled at her and said, "How could I turn down an invitation to spend time with such a lovely witch?"

"You couldn't, of course," Blaise replied confidently. Misty wanted to tell Draco that he should have.

"Handma--I mean, Misty," Blaise corrected herself. "Bring in the tea."

"Of course."

"And?"

"Don't expect me to grovel at your feet," snarled Misty.

"Humph," said Blaise. Misty smiled as she went into her rooms to conjure up some tea. Blaise had let her get by without saying the title. Probably because Blaise didn't want to yell at her in front of Draco.

Misty conjured up a tray of steaming tea that had been made in the kitchens (Blaise had sent Misty down there with a message also) and took it back to where Blaise and Draco sat.

By the end of breakfast, Misty was sickened by Blaise's behavior toward Draco. Every time Draco passed her a tray of food, she "accidentally" touched his hand, and she was sending him enough flirtatious smiles to last a lifetime.

Misty was glad when it was all over, the trays were banished back to the kitchen, and she, Blaise, and Draco were heading down to the stables.

Misty got to walk out the front doors with Blaise and Draco, and it was nice to breathe the cool air.

The three of them had to walk a distance across the green grass to the stables. Blaise walked in front, clutching Draco's arm beside her, while Misty walked behind, glaring at the two of them silently.

Finally, the smell of hay and horses grew strong, and Tristan, the stable boy, came up to meet them.

"Master Draco? Dia duit!" he said with a thick Irish accent.

"Ready two horses," Draco told him. Tristan nodded and began to walk toward the barn.

"Three," Blaise corrected. "Just in case I need any work done, Misty will accompany us."

Misty knew Blaise was bringing her along just to do the dirty work, but she was still glad to go.

Draco looked reluctant. Misty wondered if he was still uncomfortable from their conversation earlier. Why was he acting like this? Had he forgotten their old friendship completely?

"Three horses," Misty said strongly, and Draco looked back at her in surprise for a moment.

She looked into his eyes, trying to read them, but before she could, he turned away.

Tristan had gone by then, and he came out of the barn a few minutes later leading three fine horses over to where Misty, Blaise, and Draco stood.

They were all tall and powerful, with thick, shining coats. Tristan was obviously very talented when it came to horses, and he kept them well groomed.

"You can have Harpy, then, Mistress," he said, handing the reins of a short palomino horse over to Blaise. She took them carefully, but waited for help to mount.

"And Master Draco, you may have Hell's Fire," Tristan continued, passing Draco the reins of a tall, imposing black horse.

"Misty, I think you'll do well on Avie," Tristan finished, handing Misty the reins for a fairly tall, soft-coated dun.

"Avie?" Misty repeated, gazing in awe at the horse. It was a mark of how rich the Malfoys were that they could afford many fine horses like this one--and finer, since Misty, a servant, was riding her.

"Avada Kedavra," Tristan clarified, patting the horse on the nose affectionately.

Misty was not at all disconcerted by the somewhat morbid name. After all, she had grown up as the daughter of a distinguished Death Eater.

Misty had grown up amongst riches, including fine horses like these. She was taught to ride from some of the best teachers, and she had often enjoyed roaming the Welsh countryside on horseback. That was before her father had to sell most of the horses.

Misty quickly recalled her old riding skills and deftly leapt up to sit astride the horse.

Misty watched with contempt as Draco helped Blaise mount Harpy. Blaise thanked him silkily when she was seated, and Misty glared as Draco mounted his own horse.

Then she remembered, why should she be jealous of such a rude cow? Misty knew that her own characteristics were much worthier of envy. She was proud of herself, and her strengths, so she refused to admit she had any weaknesses.

"Where shall we ride?" Misty said, trotting up alongside Draco.

He tugged the reins and his horse sidestepped away from Misty. "I'll lead," he muttered, to no one in particular. Draco tightened his legs and urged Hell's Fire into a canter.

Misty was much quicker than Blaise, whose long robes appeared to be getting in the way. Misty nudged Avie into a fast canter and she was soon hot on Draco's heels.

Misty heard Blaise struggling behind her, cursing at the horse under her breath. Poor creature, that must carry that demon on its back, Misty thought.

Draco felt Misty behind him and sent Hell's Fire into a gallop. Misty rose to the challenge and urged Avie forward. In a moment, Misty was riding beside Draco.

He looked over at her angrily. "What do you think you're doing, servant?"

Misty glared daggers at him. "I have a name. Or did you forget that when you forgot our friendship?"

Draco dropped his eyes, but his face did not change. "I have wonderful memory."

"You do? Well, prove it! Why are you avoiding me? What happened?"

Draco seemed to be urging Hell's Fire forward. Misty found herself falling behind slowly.

Pressing Avie's sides with all her might, Misty spurred her forward. Avie's steps lengthened, and soon they had caught up with Draco again. Misty quickly pulled the reins to her left and cut in front of Draco.

He was forced to stop, not having time enough to swerve around. He tugged on the reins of Hell's Fire, looking very surprised.

"What are you doing?" he shouted, now angry.

Misty tried to look calm and collected. "Draco. Don't try to slither out of this one."

Draco, for once, looked her in the eye. His face was a mask of anger, but for the first time since she had come to Malfoy Manor, Misty saw some emotion in his eyes. Sadness? Guilt? She could not quite tell.

Avie shuffled her feet uncomfortably. She must have been sensing Misty's aggravation.

"Draco! Gwirion! What must I do to understand?"

Draco stared at her, his face fast becoming its usual stone wall. "I--can't say," he murmured.

Misty smiled at him. "You can't? Or you won't?"

He looked down. "I told you, I'm not a child anymore. My father--"

Misty laughed. "Your father, eh? Ah, now I see a bit more clearly. He's controlling you, like he controls everyone else?"

Draco looked at her again. "What do you know? Nothing."

"I may respect your father, but I am not blind. Draco, I see how this whole household revolves around his every whim. His every scheme. He's just like my father--conspiring, twisted, and determined. A very bad mixture of characteristics."

Something moved in Draco's cold silver eyes.

"See? You agree with me. Just admit it, Draco! You are your father's puppet, you do everything just to please him! But that's not how it's supposed to be! You have to live, Draco, you have to have something that is your own!"

Draco smiled at her, although it contained no warmth. "I have something."

He still seemed distant, broken away from her like their friendship had never existed. Misty then realized how bad it was. She had deeply underestimated Sir Lucius' effects on his son. Had Draco forgotten what it was like to have a will of his own?

Misty turned away. "You do have one thing, one thing you may always cling on to and hide behind. Darkness."

She turned Avie around, stepping out of Draco's way, but he did not move. He stared at her, with eyes like frozen fire. Misty saw Blaise in the distance, having just fallen off her horse and fighting to get back on. Misty said one last phrase to Draco before riding away.

"You and Blaise are exactly alike. You have both gained shadows from your fathers--your minds are both controlled. But with each thing you two gain, you lose something else: your souls."

~*~

And as we wind on down the road,

Our shadows taller than our soul,

There walks a lady we all know,

Who shines white light and wants to show,

How everything thing still turns to gold