D E A T H AND ALL HIS F R I E N D S, Open to all Death Eaters/Supporters

[NARCISSA YVONNE MALFOY]

Chestnut's roasting on an open fire
Jack Frost nipping at your nose
Yule tide carols being sung by a choir
And folks dressed up like eskimos
Everybody knows
A turkey and some misletoe
Can help to make the season bright
Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow
Will find it hard to sleep tonight

The house had been cleaned from top to bottom. Narcissa made sure of that. For the past three weeks she had been working her house elf and even a few maids from the Wizarding Cleaning Company like animals. Of course, she wasn’t cleaning. A woman such as Narcissa has never touched a cleaning product in her life. Growing up in one of the most well respected and noble wizarding families, she had no need to. Everything was always done for her. Naturally, she was the same way when it came to her adult life. Everything had to be perfect. Over one hundred of their closest friends would be gracing the Malfoy’s with their presences for the ball Narcissa insisted they throw. And why not have a party? Their house was big enough, and as everyone well knew, they had the funds to do so, so might as well.

Narcissa sat in front of her vanity, putting the finishing touches on her makeup. As hostess, she had to make sure she was the most beautiful woman there that night. Not that it would be hard. Now, her friends weren’t ugly, because Narcissa made it a point not to have ugly friends, but they just… weren’t as pretty as her. Alecto was gorgeous. She was probably the prettiest of her friends. So Alecto being Narcissa’s best friend made sense. Her hair was the first thing she did, seeing that it took the longest time to make perfect. She had gotten out of bed at around eight o’clock to wash and dry it. Then, she had to pin it up and put the curlers in. Once her hair was perfectly curled, well, then she had to pin the curls. It was a long and tedious process, but the end result was breath taking.

Her dress had been hanging behind the closet door all day to avoid wrinkles. That was the last thing she could handle right then. A wrinkle in her bloody dress. Having a gala like the one they were throwing that night was a very stressful process. Everything had to be perfect: the food, the hosts, the house, the grounds, the staff… it was enough to drive a person mad. And it didn’t help that her relationship with Lucius was on the rocks. Their horrible screaming fight the previous week had really put a strain on them. Lucius had left and went… well, Narcissa wasn’t exactly sure where he went. So to get back at him, she and the baby left as well. For three days. And not once did she let him know where she was. She didn’t tell anyone where she was. She went to Paris. That’s right. Paris. She Apparated with the baby to a gorgeous five star hotel and stayed there for three days in a deluxe suite. But as each day ended, Narcissa missed her home and decided it wasn’t fair to keep the baby from her husband, even though he was a lying sack of shit who deserved everything he had coming to him. They returned home at twilight of the third night and Lucius and Narcissa hadn’t said a word about it since. They hadn’t really spoken to each other about anything, really.

The one thing they did speak of, however, was their behavior that night. It was very important that their friends believe they were very much in love. And she definitely could pull that charade off. Her physical attraction to him helped that out. The only ones who really knew of her true feeling towards him were Alecto and Bellatrix. And both wouldn’t tell a soul about it. Well, Bellatrix might, that bitch. However, if she were the good sister Narcissa believed her to be, Bellatrix wouldn’t say a word to anyone about it. Narcissa stood and entered the enormous walk in closet to get into her dress. The dress she had gotten in Paris. So maybe that little minibreak wasn’t a total waste of time. Its olive green color complimented the alabaster color of her skin perfectly. Zipping herself into the gown, she smiled a bit as she admired the back. It was the dress’s crowning glory. And she looked damn good it.

Where were little Draco and the other future Death Eaters going to be kept, you may be asking yourself? Well, Narcissa took care of that too. All the nannies she had been interviewing when she was going to go back to the boutique were going to take care of them in the gigantic nursery upstairs. She had hired six nannies to care for the children. One of the nannies was to care for Draco especially. Those were her strict instructions. Her son was to come first. Let the other nannies handle the rest of the brats. They weren’t her problem. Stepping into her heels, Narcissa smiled triumphantly as she left the large closet to head downstairs, where there were people there all ready. Hadn’t they heard of being fashionably late? Apparently not.

The people who were there weren’t anyone important. At least not to Narcissa. They were mostly Lucius’s co-workers from the Ministry. Well, former co-workers she should say. Since her dear husband didn’t have a job anymore and she was left to bring in their only—no… Narcissa wasn’t going to let that ruin her night. She was determined to enjoy herself, and enjoy herself she would. Adjusting her bosom a bit, she peeked into the nursery to make sure Draco was being well cared for. Satisfied to see that the nanny was playing with him, and only him, she made her way to the top of the stairwell for her grand entrance. Putting a smile on her lips, Narcissa walked down the stairs slowly. “Hello,” she said to the ten or so people that were standing around waiting for the other guests to arrive, “and Merry Christmas.”

Narcissa spotted Lucius in the small crowd and made her way over to him. She took his hands and smiled at him. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, darling,” Narcissa said lovingly, standing on her toes to kiss him gently on the lips. Even with three inch heels on, she was still a good four inches shorter than him. She had given him a once-over when she was walking up. The tuxedo she had picked out for him fit him like a glove. “You look absolutely amazing.”

[alecto megaera carrow]

Think of all the fun I've missed,
Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed
Next year I could be just as good
If you check off my Christmas list

---

Tonight had the potential to be a hell of a lot of fun for Alecto Carrow. Really, when did she ever turn down an occassion to don her favourite party dress, to mingle with her friends, to poke fun at mudbloods with like-minds, and ply herself with alcohol in a sophisticated setting? She hadn't been quite as convinced when Narcissa first mentioned it over a well-deserved verbal men-bashing session. Narcissa was naturally good at swanky soirées, and Alecto just didn't see the whole big deal. She had looked around her friend's home and sighed at the thought of a hundred death eaters overrunning it. While she was good with holding her drink, some of their peers had yet to perfect that skill. She considered it a risk that she would never take with her much less expensive manor a few minutes away, let alone Narcissa's beautiful estate. The notion of that gorgeous jade carpet ruined was enough to make her feel nauseous. But it was Narcissa's home, and if she enjoyed inviting the entire DE roll call for some festive socializing, well who was she to point out the obvious faults? Besides, Narcissa was her best friend, her go-to girl will all the different sorts of problems and rants that popped up in Alecto's life. So she pushed her concerns for the safety of her friend's beautiful home aside, and concentrated on the bright side-the quest for a dress, for appearance perfection, the flow of firewhiskey, her friends. Eventually she forgot about the potential for cosmetic damage to Malfoy Manor, and now, she was excited.

She was in the hall of her own Wiltshire house, noting how unremarkable and humble it seemed in comparison to where she was Apparating to. She was peering into the mirror above the hall table, pinning back stray strands of dark brown hair to achieve the loose, updo she had envisaged. Simple but effective. By the time she had finished, she was rather proud of herself. Noone could possibly say she didn't scrub up well, but then again Alecto had a reputation for looking drop dead gorgeous at any given time, but she'd reserve that comment for whoever she'd meet later. Her make-up was pristine, and her new black and white dress did its creator, whose name Alecto had long-since forgotten, no injustice. Teamed with grey, heels that clicked on the walnut wood of her long hallway, she conceded that the end result would do nicely for the night ahead. She brushed down her outfit, straightening the odd crease with an almost obsessively observant eye, and once she was totally satisfied, she prepared herself for apparation. Alecto was good at that. Hadn't splinched herself once, not since an unfortunate incident before her exam which she tried not to relive more than was necessary, but otherwise her track record was clean, and she apparated into the Malfoy's entrance hall with little effort and only a faint 'pop' to signal her arrival.

Malfoy Manor was decorated beautifully, as per Cissa's usual standards; Alecto had come to expect nothing less. Every surface shone pristinely, presumably by the flock of well-trained maids and the resident house elf, because Alecto knew her friend too well to think for a moment that she'd have done any of the housework herself. Why should she when others would gladly do it for her? Lucky cow. Alecto missed having house elves. Obviously not the wretched, annoying creatures themselves but having someone to do all her work for her. Her house wasn't big enough to possibly require any help, but she was a neat freak and a lazy one at that, which was a bad combination, and even if her parents died-Merlin forbid...or not-the elves would most likely go to Amycus, who was older. So she'd have to find a husband with his own, which would mean she'd have to settle down, which was disconcertingly daunting. For now, she'd make do with a wide variety of household cleaning spells and the occasional duster. Shocking. Alecto had planned on being early to Narcissa and Lucius' bash, but by now a steady trickle of people, most of whom Alecto recognised from around the Ministry, had arrived. Mm. Maybe she could get away with fashionably late, though Alecto was never one to describe tardiness as a fashion statement in any case.

She stood at the wall, hoping to evade the eyes of searching colleagues with indeterminate allegiance. She sincerely hoped that the people Lucius associated with at work were of the highest-or lowest, depending on how you looked at it-calibre. If they weren't Death Eaters themselves, the next best thing was the potential to become one. Alecto would be positively disgusted if any of Lucius' Administrative workmates-or former, as it were-were anything less. She was picky about the people she socialised with. Well, to be blunt she was picky about anyone she was near. Unless she was torturing or killing them, being in the presence of mudbloods made her sick to her stomach. She had been brought up to expect nothing but the best, and she stood for very little nonsense. Luckily, Lucius was a man she trusted-perhaps less than she had when his and Cissa's relationship had been less rocky, but he was respectable all the same-and she believed his standards were very much the same as hers. Of course, she had been all ears for the past while when it came to Cissa's venting regarding their marriage. The general consensus was that it could've been better. But that was Narcissa's problem and, while she was on hand should she need someone to talk to or some friendly, passive (as Alecto was not quite well-versed in the twists and turns of married life) advice, until Lucius committed a personal crime against her, he remained in her good books. She wouldn't let her best friend know that, obviously.

“Hello,” Alecto heard, and her eyes darted towards the stairwell where she spotted Cissa herself, looking quite the hostess in a stunning mossy green coloured dress. “and Merry Christmas.” She smiled, proud of the younger woman without feeling outdone-though that blonde hair of hers did spark some envy somewhere deep within her, but that could be overlooked. She intended on rushing over to applaud her on her marvellous work, but hung back when she saw that Cissa was headed towards her husband. She did not want to find herself wrapped up in their marital disputes any more than was absolutely needed. She had already done well to resist asking Narcissa about her whereabouts for the past few days. They didn't keep in constant contact, but three days was a long time to go without seeing one another for lunch, not now that they lived so close together. So, she preferred to accio a flute of champagne from a nearby tray and sipped casually on it while leaning against the wall, surveying the surrounding party-goers with mild interest. Maybe she'd stumble across someone else she knew. Otherwise, she'd die of boredom before the night was out. Ah, she loved balls. In fact, she'd be throwing her own if she hadn't had so much to do as of late. There had been the move from London, which had been a lot more hassle than she'd previously imagined, and the courts were getting slightly more packed recently. Anyway, the same attitude to cleaning applied; Why should she when others would gladly do it for her? Narcissa would make an altogether better host than she would make, and it gave Alecto all of the pleasure, and none of the pain.

---

[AMYCUS MARLON CARROW]

should probably get a higher paid job and then a better flat, but then Amycus was extremely lazy and couldn't be bothered to move to the next level. He would always heave himself onto the bottom rung of the ladder, but getting any higher than that was practically impossible. He may not be the most intelligent person in the world, but Amycus did have skills that would suit him well for a much better paid job, like intimidation for example, but some how, he just never found the time. He had slipped into a comfortable exsistance whereby he woke up in the afternoon, went out somewhere, smoked a packet of cigarettes and a litre of some sort of drink, then went to work. This was pretty much how his days always went. Maybe sometimes they would be broken up by meeting up with someone, but it was never planned. Amycus was pretty much drifting through life, his heads in the clouds, not actually knowing what was going on in real life. At the same time, he didn't really know what was going on in this war either. He would feel his tattoo burn, turn up and kill some filthy muggle or blood traitor, and then return home in time for work. Sometimes, Amycus wanted something to snap him from his pointless routine, but nothing ever came and basically, there was something about the lazier side of Amycus that liked going through life without having to actually think about it. But then, there was this party tonight. Amycus had decided to turn up because he hadn't worn a suit for a very long time and well, he took any excuse that came with being late for work.

He sighed and sparked up a cigarette, holding it between his lips and taking down gulpfulls of nicotine spiked air as he pulled on the trousers that were currently puddled around his ankles. He sat lazily on the bed, pulling them up slowly, before finally admitting defeat and standing up. He buckled them easily, realising they were slightly too big for him, but then he couldn't remember when he had last eaten. There just seemed to be much more important things to be doing than eating, like smoking or drinking. He just never seemed to find the time, though he also never had anything to do. It was rather strange. Taking a large drag of the cigarette, Amycus placed it in the ashtray beside his bed as he went about pulling on the shirt. It felt weird to wear one now because though Amycus loved dressing up smart like the next Death Eater male, he had not worn one in such a long time that the stiffly ironed material felt strange against his skin. As he peeled on his suit though, Amycus slowly felt more important looking and decided that perhaps he should wear suits more often. They seemed to demand respect and well, they looked better than jeans and t-shirt anyway. Facing the mirror so that he could see what he was doing, Amycus pulled a tie around his neck and began to do it up carefully. It took him a while because he was a bit rusty, but soon he had it done. Pulling on the suit jacket finished the look and Amycus had to admit, he didn't look too bad at all.

He had opted for the GREY SUIT because the man had come to the conclusion that every other male would be wearing a classic black one and well, he did like to look different from everyone else. He felt different to them all and sometimes found it hard to mingle and discuss things with them. There was only so many times you could talk about the best ways to torture a mudblood or something. Other than that, Amycus didn't have too much in common with anyone else. For one, they all had better jobs and houses there. Perhaps his sister would be there though. He hadn't seen her in ages and it would be nice, considering he didn't have to pretend to be something sophisticated and special around her. What he needed was to get there and have a few stiff drinks. That way he would feel much better and more confident with the current company. Amycus always dreaded or doing something stupid though because he had to look good in front of all the Death Eater, otherwise they would all turn on him and hate him. But then, he might be safe considering how many muggles he could kill whilst still regaining that large smile on his face. It put him in good stead with everyone really.

Running a hand through his hair, Amycus turned on the spot a apparated just in front of the Malfoy Manor. It was an extremely cold night and Amycus had to shove his hands in his pocket to avoid them falling off. Well hopefully he would not end up getting so drunk he fell asleep in a bush, he would only freeze to death. That said he couldn't stay for long because he had work in a couple of hours and would not want to lose it due to not turning up or something. Smoothing down his suit, Amycus strutted through the door with the air of somebody who was in control of his life and knew exactly what he was doing and why he was there. Amycus knew how to get through these situations, and it was to lie and pretend you were something you weren't. The man spotted the host but due to the fact she looked a little busy with Mr Malfoy, Amycus steered clear of her, grabbing two glasses of champagne and drinking from them heavily. He looked around, looking for his sister, knowing she would be there. He had only beaten her to one event, and that was their birth. Ever since then, Alecto would always turn up before him for everything, mostly because he always seemed to be late. But this time, there weren't many people inside the house and Amycus wondered if he was actually on time.

Looking around, Amycus spotted his sister finally, leant up against a wall sipping on her own glass of champagne. Amycus made his way through the small crowd of people, nodding and smiling at the people that he vaguely recognised. "Good evening," said Amycus when he had finally reached his destination. "Not like you to be at the edge of a party." Amycus smiled, knowing that he was the one always at the side of the party, drinking far too much whilst his sister did all the socialising and gave them a good name. Yes, he probably did let the side down, but there was nothing he was going to do about that. He looked down at his sister, deciding that she really did look very nice today and that the dress complimented her figure greatly, but he would never say that outloud. Right, tonight he would have to find someone to take his mind off of his sister in that dress. He didn't mind who, he would accept anyone right now. Amycus gulped and bit down on his lip, looking across the crowd of people to avoid eye contact with Alecto. "Did you get here much before me?" said Amycus, in what he hoped was an absent minded fashion.[/list]

[EVAN FAUSTUS ROSIER]

Figures dancing gracefully across my memory

The one thing anyone could guarantee about cousin Cissa’s parties was that they were inevitably going to turn out beautiful. Translated into Evan’s world it added up to a night of him standing like a statue with only his eyes rolling over everyone whilst his mouth hung slightly and pathetically open. It was never a good prospect for him: particularly when he was completely aware of its possibility. Usually he could count on spontaneous fascination to catch him off guard and save him from anxieties, but as he stared himself over infront of a full-length looking glass his mind strolled through montages and hypothetical situations.

The suit was something fine, expensive, tailored for his very needs. Simple grey trousers, and crisp white shirt (he’d been sure no frills were included). A black waistcoat with silver detail. But his jacket was finer than this, collar high and open at the front, still in that pleasant shade of Slytherin silver-grey but with a hunter green lining, it nipped at the hip and then fell elegantly just above the knee. It certainly wasn’t your traditional tux, but then Marbles wasn’t particularly usual. He kept his face clean, leaving his hair untamed and he flicked his wand carelessly at the tophat, so that it shrunk to the size of a thumbnail: that way he wouldn’t have to carry it around all night. He did the same with the satin green cravat, and stored them both inside the breast pocket.

Finally when the young man was satisfied that he could be no more satisfied in his apparel than at this very instant, he pulled on the jacket over his tense shoulders and fastened it. He would wear the thing open later, so as to feel more at ease with himself.

The last thing he did was add a few pre-shrinked pre-wrapped gifts to his pocket of wonder. It was like carrying Mary Poppin’s bag around in miniature. His fingers wrapped delicately with a smile once against the fabric, feeling the slight press of tiny objects within, and then he took three paces forward and spun with absolute deliberation and determination, focused insistently on Malfoy Manor.

The breathy rush that compressed him momentarily was duly uncomfortable particular in such attire, and it was with much relief- sounded by a soft near silent sigh- that his feet felt the familiar path beneath them. Opics opened wide and surveyed, even from the outside the place was stunning, moreso for its decoration and care. Narcissa had clearly been lavishing over this for weeks, it had her mark stamped over it repeatedly. Other familiar fellow Death Eaters, supporters and random folk were ahead, the loud raucous of synchronized apparitions beat out against the clarified winter air behind him.

Something like a smile flitted over his mouth, perching their delicately and unusual. It was a genuine smile, rare and content. Not leering or jesting, not obsessed, but comfortable. It felt new, and looked odd, so he shifted his jaw, feeling more comfortable with his usual expression.

Molten eyes fell upon detail after detail as he ascended the stairs, entered the house and strode arrogantly forward into where the main gathering was occurring. Narcissa’s voice carried loudly, hostess-like and typically Cissa-ish. She looked astounding as she went to meet her husband, smiling in practised fashion. One had to marvel. The Carrows were here, actual gracefulness circling them as they greeted one another in strange civility.

So it seemed most people here were waltzing away with some angel on their arm tonight, and where was the room for the lonely bachelors? Why there was no other place for it- the drinks table! Liquidly, Evan moved through the gaps between people, meandering his way through until the glint of bottles hit his gaze. Firewhiskey! Brilliant! This could be far more fun than he’d anticipated.

[SEVERUS TOBIAS SNAPE]

you're a mean one, mr. grinch. you really are a heel.
you're as cuddly as a cactus, you're as charming as an eel, mr. grinch.
you're a bad banana with a greasy black peel.
_______________________________________________________

Yule Ball. Two words that made Severus Snape cringe from the ends of his greasy, black hair to the tips of his toes. The event was clearly designed for the sole purpose of making him miserable. It was a combination of two things he sincerely hated - Christmastime and dancing. And the word "ball," of course, entailed dressing up in something a little nicer than the dingy black robes he usually donned. But it was an event held by the Malfoys, with whom it was always wise to make a good impression, and all the other Death Eaters had been invited - which meant by not showing up Severus risked having his loyalty to the noble cause of murdering mudbloods questioned. And seeing as his loyalty was about as strong as a strand of gossamer, that would be a very bad thing, indeed. As he walked about 111 Spinner's End preparing himself for the ball, Severus acted as one getting ready to attend a funeral - his own funeral. Then again, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Would a few hours of acting on his best behavior really kill him? Probably not. After a while, everyone would probably get so drunk that they wouldn't notice if he slipped out early. Then he could spend the rest of the evening in solitary confinement, comfortably numb on the sofa in his sitting room. Yes. That sounded like a plan.

Once he was ready - after about thirty minutes of self-grooming - something Severus equivocated to twenty-four hours of hard labor - Severus did the unthinkable. He looked in a mirror. Looking in a mirror at Severus's home is more of a challenge than one would think. In fact, in the entire three bedroom, two bath townhouse there was only one mirror - a full length mirror with a frame of peeling gold paint - and it was located in a room Severus carefully avoided if he could help it - his mother's old room. The room showed every sign of being uninhabited for several years. There was a musty smell in the air, and everything was coated in a heavy layer of dust. The furniture, curtains, and carpet were marked by the shabbiness of not-so-genteel poverty, but the few paintings and wall decorations hung about the room suggested some attempt had been made - however poorly, and with obviously limited means - to make the room a somewhat pleasant place to be. Severus flipped the light switch on, surprised to find that the dim overhead light still worked. A shadow passed over his face at the sight of his mother's old bed - the bed she had wasted away in, suffering from dragon pox. And there was the armchair next the the bed where Severus had sat with her every night until she'd been moved to St. Mungo's. On the other side of the bed, opposite the arm chair, was a wooden chest of drawers adorned with various assortments of dusty trinkets. Next to that was the mirror. Severus dusted it off with a swift flick of his wand, and stepped in front of it to find his own face staring back at him.

Bracing himself for the worst, Severus was pleasantly surprised by his own appearance. He cleaned up pretty nicely. Almost. His hair was still greasy - that couldn't be helped - his nose was still crooked, and his skin was still pallid, but there was still something almost nice about how he looked. His hair was combed back for one, revealing his startlingly dark eyes beneath long lashes. And his chin looked strong, his cheekbones protruding nicely. And then there was his outfit. It wasn't, perhaps, the height of fashion, but it was a far cry better than Severus's usual wardrobe choices. He wore a simple dark gray suit with light gray pinstripes over a plain white t-shirt. On his feet were a brand new pair of black tennis shoes. It wasn't the tuxedo the Malfoys might have expected him to wear, but there was a certain degree of effortless coolneess to the look that was unnatural to Severus's tall, gangly frame. He was presentable. And for him, that really was quite an accomplishment.

Satisfied with his appearance, Severus turned off the bedroom light and quickly left the room, running from the memories contained within it. Back downstairs, he grabbed a handful of floo powder from a glass jar on the mantel above his living room fireplace, and stepped into the flames. "Malfoy Manor," he said loudly and clearly. As soon as the words left his mouth, Severus was whisked away up the chimney. He passed countless other fireplaces on his way to the Malfoy's - all of them flashing before his eyes in a nauseating blur. Finally he stopped, and tumbled out into a room so grand and marvelously decorated that it could belong to no one else but the Malfoys. Who else would put so much time and money into making their house look so extravagant? Even Severus, who hated Christmas and frowned upon seasonal decorations as a general rule, couldn't help but feel a little awed by the magnificent hall he was now standing in. A few people were already gathered about, but a majority of the party didn't seem to have arrived yet. Severus immediately spotted Narcissa Malfoy by her golden hair, glinting brilliantly at him from across the bright room. Standing around her were the Carrow twins, whom Severus knew little of beyond their names.

Not feeling bold enough to join in their conversation, Severus made a bee-line for the drinks table. This was usually a safe place for someone like him to stand at a social gathering. It wasn't that Severus was a heavy a drinker. To the contrary, save the occasional glass of elf-made wine, Severus rarely indulged in alcoholic beverages. He didn't like the taste. At a party like this, however, Severus happily used alcohol as an excuse to remove himself from as many conversations as possible. If someone approached him, he could always pretend to be too busy pouring himself a drink to notice him or her. Plus a little buzz always helped to pass the time more quickly and enjoyably. As Severus helped himself to a glass of champagne, he noticed that he wasn't the only person finding solace at the drinks table. Evan Rosier was nearby, busing himself with the firewhiskey. Better Evan than most, Severus thought, deciding whether to say hi or just walk away. He decided upon the former. Most days, he liked Evan. And Evan certainly seemed to like Severus, judging by the way he had always followed Severus around at Hogwarts. As far as his fellow Death Eaters went, Evan was the probably the closet thing Severus had to a genuine friend. Maybe the night would pass more quickly if he had company. "Happy Sodding Christmas, Rosier," Severus muttered, smiling wryly at his friend. Yes. Friend.

[LUCIUS ABRAXAS MALFOY]

I don't want a lot for Christmas, there's just one thing I need.
I don't care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree.
I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know,
Make my wish come true.
All I want for Christmas is you.

-------------------------------------------

It certainly wasn’t a rarity to see the Malfoy Manor spotless - Lucius made sure that Dobby kept up with his responsibilities in maintaining a dust-free home. He was always used to things clean and precise - always a man of the highest order, especially when it came to his territory - there was no such thing as too neat or too pristine. But he sat back wordlessly as his wife ordered yet another scoping of the house, even going so far as to call in the WCC in addition to the team of house-elves. Who was he to protest or stand in her way? Narcissa would go about do whatever she pleased - far be it for him to argue that things around the manor were well enough when it came to cleanliness. That he could already see himself in the foyer marble before the cleaning teams attacked it with their wands and cloths. Or that he preferred the place he lived smelling like usual and not some herbal remedy that could only be described as lemony - although a hint of baking apple crisps made it a little better, at least… even so, this was not a night Lucius Malfoy was looking forward to.

He had finished getting ready quite some time ago, spending only around an hour in the washroom making sure his tuxedo was nothing short of perfect along with his hair and overall general appearance. He was always concerned when it came to looking his best - looking the part of an elite, well-to-do pureblood gentleman that he was. And somehow he always managed to pull it off, whether it was just rising from bed, or after a night of missions for the Dark Lord. Many of his friends paled in comparison when it came to anything of that regard. Rodolphus’ poor style decisions were fairly renowned throughout all of wizarding Britain after he donned that red suit a few years back. It was rather obvious when his mother stopped dressing him and left him to fend for himself for parties and that of the like. Times like these he almost half wondered whether or not he pulled some sort of short straw when it came to betrothals. He didn’t think he would mind Bella, really…

Lucius fiddled with his tie and collar absentmindedly as he surveyed the steadily filling ballroom, trying not to appear as bored as he really was. “Ah, Mr. Borgin. Yes, wonderful, and yourself? So glad you could make it,” he feigned a smile and greeted any who passed him - as was customary, though he was anxious. The suit Narcissa picked for him was snug - a bit too much so, in his opinion. The neckline itched so much that it was driving him absolutely mad. The last thing he needed was to be even more uncomfortable than he already was - things would have been hard enough without this bloody ball - but it wasn’t as though they could just up and cancel it on a whim when invitations had been sent long before the fight - months before, in fact. Lucius sighed and delicately lifted a drink from the silver tray of a passing waiter, briefly eyeing the pink hued champagne before taking a generous sip. After all the yelling, he had gone to the East Wing. He apparated to Bellatrix’s manor for drinks and a nice, long discussion about the woes and tarries of life. When he returned home he was too sick and hungover to realize that his wife was missing. The second day he spent trying to torture coerce the information out of Dobby - and the third, pacing a hold through the living room rug.

But they hadn’t spoken about it since. They hadn’t spoken about anything at all. Lucius rose early in the morning and ate breakfast before Narcissa wandered downstairs - he retired to his study for the remainder of the day, then occupied the guest room after dining only on his most expensive scotch and a cigar. Their single discussion was about the ball. About how even though they were on the rocks, on the edge of breaking apart, they had to pretend they were very much in love. For Lucius, the hardest thing wouldn’t be the love part - it would be the sham part. Knowing that while they acted like the perfect couple, it wasn’t real. And it hurt. That when she came down the stairs in all her beauty and elegance, crossed the floor to wrap her arms around him and kiss him… it would all be an act. A show for the crowd. Like a performance of Romeo and Juliet with the twist of a child and potential divorce. He wouldn’t be surprised if poison entered the equation soon either. And now he was beginning to get a headache. Just bloody brilliant.

He was accustomed to this sort of thing, however. Ever since he was young his parents would be sure to drag their son to every event of even remote importance - every ball, every social, whether his family was acting as hosts or not. At first he would put up a fight - small hissy-fits from a temperamental seven year old. He recalled throwing the bow-tie his mother wanted him to wear across the same foyer hallway he could glimpse from his vantage point of the ballroom - it brought the slightest smile to his lips. Somewhere along the line he grew not only to cope with the ballroom dancing lessons that were forced upon him, or the countless hours seemingly wasted away by idle chatter and music that never seemed to change key - he grew fond of it. Lucius was charming. He could schmooze and mingle better than the rest - a natural skill, or so he liked to tell himself. And it was rare when he refused any opportunity to show off his grand manor or beautiful wife - but tonight was just one of those nights when he really wasn’t in the mood.

He set down his empty glass of champagne and aimlessly wandered the room, weaving in between people when necessary among scattered wishes of ‘Happy Christmas.’ So far there was no one he was really ‘close’ to in attendance. Rodolphus hadn’t arrived but, then again, he and his wife were always ‘fasionably’ late. Igor Karkaroff rarely ever showed up early to these events - if he decided to show up at all. Although… Helena was supposed to be there, which meant Lucius had the suspicion Karky would find an excuse to drop by. In the corner he spotted Amycus Carrow with his sister, Alecto - something about that man always disturbed Lucius for some reason. They were on friendly terms, yes, but certainly not in a ‘drop by for drinks later and we’ll catch up on quidditch standings’ sort of way.

Preoccupied, Lucius didn’t notice when Narcissa made her way down the stairs. As she came over to him, he turned, letting her hands rest gently in his own. She looked absolutely breathtaking - no… more than that. There were no words. “It was well worth the wait, my dear,” he said silkily, taking one of her hands and kissing it softly after their lips parted. Even though on the surface they were the epitome of perfection, he knew that they both knew better. “And you. The most beautiful woman in the room. As always.”