Chapter 3: Of Semi-Intelligent Conversations, Not-So-Permanent Escapes, and Completely Evil Sabotage
Ginny stared up at Draco, thinking deeply. She really needed to get information about Blaise, or she’d feel guilty afterwards. “Tell me about yourself, your friends,” she said, smiling, thinking it was the only way. “Frankly, you seemed quite different at Hogwarts, much more…” she trailed off delicately, knowing this was one of the only times she hadn’t lied to him.
He chuckled. “I was a bit of an ass, wasn’t I?”
She smiled wryly. There was definitely no denying it.
“Well, after the fall of the Dark Lord, we just sort of stayed in the background, but now my parents think I should get married. I’m only twenty-two, so it seems a bit ridiculous to be worrying about it now, but what can you do? As for my friends, well, I don’t really talk to them all that much anymore. Goyle’s been in Azkaban for a while now, and Blaise” – Ginny tried not to stare too intensely as he continued – “has been off killing Muggles for no apparent reason. Doesn’t seem too fun to me actually, but don’t tell anyone I said that. Blaise is quite the idiot. I think the Aurors are searching for him, but I haven’t the faintest idea where he is. Well, anyway, Nott and I have been better friends than ever… I have to admit I used to think he was a bit of a prick, but he actually turned out to be really – I’m boring you, aren’t I?”
“No, not at all, actually. It’s interesting. This might sound really rude, but why weren’t you sent to Azkaban.” It was utterly tactless of her to ask that, but she had always wondered, and being in disguise made her even more bold than ever.
He smiled wryly, amused instead of angry. “Well, the great hero Potter saved me, of course. He convinced them I shouldn’t be forced to go.”
Of course. That was typical Harry. “You don’t seem too grateful,” she laughed.
“He’s just – Potter. I’m never going to stop hating him.”
“Understandable,” she conceded truthfully. Harry was a complete prat, after all.
“So your parents want you to get married?” she laughed, giggling softly. “You have quite a few more years, don’t you?”
“Well, the Malfoys don’t do anything half-way,” he explained, rolling his eyes. He was always amused by his parents; it was so hard to stay mad at them. They meant well. “All the purebloods–”
“Not all,” she clarified, interrupting him.
“Not the blood traitors,” he acknowledged.
“Your parents want to protect you from falling for a someone who isn’t… pure?”
“Well, yes.” He grinned down at her, moving in time to the music.
She was keeping up the charade rather well. All she had to do was keep up the witty conversation for an hour and a half–
An hour and a half! Time had been flying by.
“So,” she started again, “say you wanted to marry a half-blood. What would happen then?”
“I don’t think they would like it, but they wouldn’t stop it, I think.” His brow was furrowed and he was imagining their reactions. A moment later a half-smiled came across his face. Their reactions would be hilarious.
“I assume that the reaction for a Muggle-born and a blood traitor would be nearly the same?” She just wanted to know about this foreign part of her world; this place was so strange, but not entirely unfriendly. Snobbish, yes, but not threatening. It was sort of endearing, in a way. Like you could smile at them, because they were so naïve.
“No,” he answered, shaking his head and thinking. “Marrying a Muggle-born would be thoroughly out of the question. But I don’t think they would be too adverse to the idea of me marrying a blood traitor. Nearly everyone is a blood traitor now, to some extent. Mother” – he began to laugh loudly – “talked to a half-blood the other day, and didn’t even look disgusted when she walked away. For years she never could’ve done that. We might not be blood traitors like the Weasleys” – he felt Ginny stiffen in his arms and he stared down at her until she smiled meekly and continued dancing – “or something, but we’re far from being like Blaise. I don’t even know what happened to him. He must’ve exploded or something like that; he was never that crazy at Hogwarts.”
She laughed shakily, trying to sound and act normal to make up for the moment where she had almost given herself away. “Well, my family was never like yours, as far as all that goes, which is why I’m so curious.”
“Daphne always seemed very tolerant, not to mention… exuberant.”
“Meaning she was bloody annoying,” Ginny laughed, thinking of the little she did know of Daphne. “She and Pansy were best friends, weren’t they?”
“And very well-suited to be,” he answered dryly. “Astoria, however, was far less so.”
Ginny instantly tensed, wondering why in the world she had brought up the Greengrass sisters. She didn’t know anything about them, but she was supposed to be their cousin! This could only go in the wrong direction. “Well,” she began, changing the subject quickly, “you haven’t danced with nearly all the eligible wives here yet. I thought you were going to?”
“I was,” he answered, staring intently at her, “but now I think I don’t need to.”
She nearly gasped. He was giving her that look, the one that said he was falling for her. She couldn’t have Draco Malfoy fall for her! He was… he was – well, he was Malfoy, after all.
The song ended at that moment, and she said as calmly as she could, “Why don’t you go dance with someone else for a moment. I really must, er, use the bathroom.”
He laughed.
“What?” she asked, her eyes widening.
“Oh, nothing, it’s just that most women I know would say they had to ‘freshen up their makeup’ or something ridiculous like that.”
“Should I have said that also?” she said aloud, and then blushed furiously for speaking her thoughts.
“No, it’s quite refreshing to hear you tell the truth, actually,” he answered, still chuckling.
She rolled her eyes and couldn’t help but smile. “Well, go on then. Mingle, or whatever it is you’re supposed to do at parties.”
“See you soon,” he answered, and then swept down to kiss her hand, as was customary. She blushed again. She knew she must be blushing far too much for someone with dark hair, but there was nothing she could do about it.
“Bye,” she answered in a strangled voice, and nearly ran out of the room.
Once she got into the hallway, she Apparated.
He stared after her as she left. She was strange, but there was something intriguing about her. She made him want to know more and more about her.
He didn’t want to dance with anyone else. What was the point? Then he would be forced to be bored and talk to someone he didn’t want to talk to, and pretend to enjoy it. He had never liked parties the way he tried to let on.
He liked Ella’s honesty, her bold personality. As for her personality, she really didn’t seem all that suited to be a Slytherin, actually. Plus, he never remembered seeing anyone that looked like her. She could’ve been lying about her House, and he could understand that. They were nearly all Slytherins here; he doubted she would want to admit that she was the lone outsider.
He hoped he could convince her to see him again after this. At the very least, he knew they could be friends. He wouldn’t mind having her around.
Sighing and shaking away any other fanciful thought he might have, he turned around to continue his duties as the host of the party.
“Ginny! What are you doing here?”
“This is more important than you and Ron snogging, Hermione. Come and talk to me.”
Blushing slightly, Hermione got up from beside Ron and walked with Ginny into the kitchen.
“What is it? Did something go wrong?”
“Yes!” Ginny said desperately, wondering why she had come to Hermione of all people. Hermione wouldn’t understand, but she had to tell someone. “I think Draco Malfoy is falling for me.”
Hermione gasped, but after about two seconds began to laugh hysterically. “Are you serious? Malfoy is falling in love with you? Imagine, your kids would have pink hair–”
“Hermione!” Ginny protested, failing to see the humour in the situation. “I don’t know what to do. Should I tell him?”
Hermione, finally regaining control, just rolled her eyes. “You know you can’t tell him, Ginny, so why don’t you just stay here? You only have a little over an hour anyway.”
“He’s expecting me. I can’t just stay here.”
“Remember how I told you before you left that your only danger was Malfoy falling in love with you. It looks like I was right!” Then Hermione began laughing again.
“Ha ha. Aren’t you hilarious, Hermione. Always the know-it-all, aren’t you?”
Then she Disapparated, wondering why in the world she had thought Hermione would be able to help her in the first place.
Draco caught sight of her the moment she came back into the room. Immediately ceasing dancing with whichever annoying woman he happened to be partners with, he strode over to her and asked silkily, “May I have this dance?”
She gazed at him strangely, as if trying to decide whether she really didn’t hate him, or if she just thought so. Even she couldn’t deny that he was being an all-around good man, but of course that had to be because she was disguised as an elegant, beautiful, and oh-so-eligible pureblood. “Sure,” she answered in a strangled voice.
But he didn’t take her hand right away. “Are you okay?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he gazed into her flushed face.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she answered, trying to grin happily. But she knew her smile looked fake.
“No, you’re not,” he said flatly, wondering why she was lying. “Would you like to go into the library or something?”
“Well, sure. But just for a moment,” she replied. Then she wondered why she agreed. Surely being alone in a room with Draco would be much worse than just dancing with him in a crowded ballroom.
She was a Gryffindor, after all – even though she might be masquerading as a Slytherin. With that thought in mind she gathered her wits about her and walked calmly into the library with Draco.
“So what’s wrong?” he asked once they were safely through the door.
“Nothing,” she answered, her voice a bit too high. “Nothing at all.”
He stared at her strangely. Was he making her uncomfortable? He didn’t want to; he was getting used to talking to her and was having a great time.
Damn. Maybe she knew he was falling for her, and that was making her uncomfortable. Needless to say, he would much rather have her feeling the same way back.
After all, she was interesting. She was easy to talk to, and he’d never met anyone like that. To everyone else he was cold, formal, because no one had her fire. He liked that about her, and didn’t want to stop getting to know her. He wouldn’t mind just being friends with her; he would love getting to know her, but he didn’t see how she could leave him today, like she, Ella Greengrass, had never existed.
“I’m making you uncomfortable, aren’t I?” he questioned.
“No, I’m fine,” Ginny insisted, staring into his eyes, but that made her heart jump a little. “I just… don’t think I’m the person you should be choosing at this party. Because you are, aren’t you?”
“Why do you think you aren’t the person for me?” he asked, looking a bit offended. “Are you with someone?”
“No, but—”
“Then why not?”
“I’m not… who you think I am,” she whispered.
“I know that you’re smart, interesting, and beautiful,” he answered, his voice a bit harsh at the thought of losing her. “I know that I would rather spend time with you than any of those people out there.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she insisted, staring at him now.
“You refuse?” he snapped, looking hurt just for a moment until he forced the expression away.
“Yes,” she sighed, feeling far more pain than she thought she would have under the circumstances. “But you don’t understand—”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice resigned, as he turned and left the room.
Ginny sank down shakily onto the sofa, feeling like she had made the wrong choice.
Draco had spent the last hour dancing with dozens of women. He had talked to them all, and every single one fell short of… her.
He didn’t understand why she had done that. He had told her it didn’t matter what her reason was, but now he felt like he had to know. Without thinking, at five minutes to midnight, he sprinted to the library and opened the door. He half-expected her not to be there, but she was, sitting on the sofa staring off into space.
Ginny looked up when she heard the door open.
“Why?” Draco demanded.
“It — it doesn’t matter,” she answered, looking away. “You said so yourself.”
“Yes, it does matter, because I can tell you want to be with me, don’t you?”
“That doesn’t matter either,” she answered, her voice strange.
“Tell me you don’t care for me, and I’ll leave and never bother you,” he said, his heart pounding; it seemed so unlike him to do something like this, but he had to, because he wanted Ella Greengrass.
“I don’t — I really don’t —” Then she stopped and shook her head, because she couldn’t say it — she couldn’t lie.
“See, Ella? Why can’t we date? I want to know you—”
Then they heard a commotion outside in the ballroom. Exchanging stares of confusion, they silently agreed to go see what was happening. As they entered, they saw a circle made around a mad-looking Pansy Parkinson and two girls…
The Greengrass sisters.
Ginny gasped loudly and began to turn so that she could Apparate, but before she could Pansy pounced on her and dragged her into the centre with Daphne and Astoria.
“Pansy! What the hell are you doing?” Draco shouting, following them.
“Wait just one second, Draco,” Pansy said, grinning sweetly. She looked around at everyone, keeping a firm grasp on Ginny’s arm.
Ginny’s heart began to pound rapidly — she knew something had gone horrible wrong.
Pansy began to address the crowd, “I didn’t think there was any such person as Ella Greengrass so I went and found her so-called cousins, and guess what they have to say?”
“I’ve never seen this person before in my life,” Astoria exclaimed, right on cue.
The clock began to strike midnight and Ginny gasped as she felt her hair lengthening and her nose getting wider. The hair framing her face was turning from brown to red, and everyone was staring at her intently.
“Ginny Weasley!” Pansy exclaimed, quickly dropped her arm in disgust.
“Ginny?” Draco bellowed, his face the picture of surprise.
Unable to stay there one moment longer, Ginny took a few steps away from where Pansy was trying to grab her again and spun precariously in order to Apparate…
One of her glass slippers coming off in the process.
Ginny stared up at Draco, thinking deeply. She really needed to get information about Blaise, or she’d feel guilty afterwards. “Tell me about yourself, your friends,” she said, smiling, thinking it was the only way. “Frankly, you seemed quite different at Hogwarts, much more…” she trailed off delicately, knowing this was one of the only times she hadn’t lied to him.
He chuckled. “I was a bit of an ass, wasn’t I?”
She smiled wryly. There was definitely no denying it.
“Well, after the fall of the Dark Lord, we just sort of stayed in the background, but now my parents think I should get married. I’m only twenty-two, so it seems a bit ridiculous to be worrying about it now, but what can you do? As for my friends, well, I don’t really talk to them all that much anymore. Goyle’s been in Azkaban for a while now, and Blaise” – Ginny tried not to stare too intensely as he continued – “has been off killing Muggles for no apparent reason. Doesn’t seem too fun to me actually, but don’t tell anyone I said that. Blaise is quite the idiot. I think the Aurors are searching for him, but I haven’t the faintest idea where he is. Well, anyway, Nott and I have been better friends than ever… I have to admit I used to think he was a bit of a prick, but he actually turned out to be really – I’m boring you, aren’t I?”
“No, not at all, actually. It’s interesting. This might sound really rude, but why weren’t you sent to Azkaban.” It was utterly tactless of her to ask that, but she had always wondered, and being in disguise made her even more bold than ever.
He smiled wryly, amused instead of angry. “Well, the great hero Potter saved me, of course. He convinced them I shouldn’t be forced to go.”
Of course. That was typical Harry. “You don’t seem too grateful,” she laughed.
“He’s just – Potter. I’m never going to stop hating him.”
“Understandable,” she conceded truthfully. Harry was a complete prat, after all.
“So your parents want you to get married?” she laughed, giggling softly. “You have quite a few more years, don’t you?”
“Well, the Malfoys don’t do anything half-way,” he explained, rolling his eyes. He was always amused by his parents; it was so hard to stay mad at them. They meant well. “All the purebloods–”
“Not all,” she clarified, interrupting him.
“Not the blood traitors,” he acknowledged.
“Your parents want to protect you from falling for a someone who isn’t… pure?”
“Well, yes.” He grinned down at her, moving in time to the music.
She was keeping up the charade rather well. All she had to do was keep up the witty conversation for an hour and a half–
An hour and a half! Time had been flying by.
“So,” she started again, “say you wanted to marry a half-blood. What would happen then?”
“I don’t think they would like it, but they wouldn’t stop it, I think.” His brow was furrowed and he was imagining their reactions. A moment later a half-smiled came across his face. Their reactions would be hilarious.
“I assume that the reaction for a Muggle-born and a blood traitor would be nearly the same?” She just wanted to know about this foreign part of her world; this place was so strange, but not entirely unfriendly. Snobbish, yes, but not threatening. It was sort of endearing, in a way. Like you could smile at them, because they were so naïve.
“No,” he answered, shaking his head and thinking. “Marrying a Muggle-born would be thoroughly out of the question. But I don’t think they would be too adverse to the idea of me marrying a blood traitor. Nearly everyone is a blood traitor now, to some extent. Mother” – he began to laugh loudly – “talked to a half-blood the other day, and didn’t even look disgusted when she walked away. For years she never could’ve done that. We might not be blood traitors like the Weasleys” – he felt Ginny stiffen in his arms and he stared down at her until she smiled meekly and continued dancing – “or something, but we’re far from being like Blaise. I don’t even know what happened to him. He must’ve exploded or something like that; he was never that crazy at Hogwarts.”
She laughed shakily, trying to sound and act normal to make up for the moment where she had almost given herself away. “Well, my family was never like yours, as far as all that goes, which is why I’m so curious.”
“Daphne always seemed very tolerant, not to mention… exuberant.”
“Meaning she was bloody annoying,” Ginny laughed, thinking of the little she did know of Daphne. “She and Pansy were best friends, weren’t they?”
“And very well-suited to be,” he answered dryly. “Astoria, however, was far less so.”
Ginny instantly tensed, wondering why in the world she had brought up the Greengrass sisters. She didn’t know anything about them, but she was supposed to be their cousin! This could only go in the wrong direction. “Well,” she began, changing the subject quickly, “you haven’t danced with nearly all the eligible wives here yet. I thought you were going to?”
“I was,” he answered, staring intently at her, “but now I think I don’t need to.”
She nearly gasped. He was giving her that look, the one that said he was falling for her. She couldn’t have Draco Malfoy fall for her! He was… he was – well, he was Malfoy, after all.
The song ended at that moment, and she said as calmly as she could, “Why don’t you go dance with someone else for a moment. I really must, er, use the bathroom.”
He laughed.
“What?” she asked, her eyes widening.
“Oh, nothing, it’s just that most women I know would say they had to ‘freshen up their makeup’ or something ridiculous like that.”
“Should I have said that also?” she said aloud, and then blushed furiously for speaking her thoughts.
“No, it’s quite refreshing to hear you tell the truth, actually,” he answered, still chuckling.
She rolled her eyes and couldn’t help but smile. “Well, go on then. Mingle, or whatever it is you’re supposed to do at parties.”
“See you soon,” he answered, and then swept down to kiss her hand, as was customary. She blushed again. She knew she must be blushing far too much for someone with dark hair, but there was nothing she could do about it.
“Bye,” she answered in a strangled voice, and nearly ran out of the room.
Once she got into the hallway, she Apparated.
He stared after her as she left. She was strange, but there was something intriguing about her. She made him want to know more and more about her.
He didn’t want to dance with anyone else. What was the point? Then he would be forced to be bored and talk to someone he didn’t want to talk to, and pretend to enjoy it. He had never liked parties the way he tried to let on.
He liked Ella’s honesty, her bold personality. As for her personality, she really didn’t seem all that suited to be a Slytherin, actually. Plus, he never remembered seeing anyone that looked like her. She could’ve been lying about her House, and he could understand that. They were nearly all Slytherins here; he doubted she would want to admit that she was the lone outsider.
He hoped he could convince her to see him again after this. At the very least, he knew they could be friends. He wouldn’t mind having her around.
Sighing and shaking away any other fanciful thought he might have, he turned around to continue his duties as the host of the party.
“Ginny! What are you doing here?”
“This is more important than you and Ron snogging, Hermione. Come and talk to me.”
Blushing slightly, Hermione got up from beside Ron and walked with Ginny into the kitchen.
“What is it? Did something go wrong?”
“Yes!” Ginny said desperately, wondering why she had come to Hermione of all people. Hermione wouldn’t understand, but she had to tell someone. “I think Draco Malfoy is falling for me.”
Hermione gasped, but after about two seconds began to laugh hysterically. “Are you serious? Malfoy is falling in love with you? Imagine, your kids would have pink hair–”
“Hermione!” Ginny protested, failing to see the humour in the situation. “I don’t know what to do. Should I tell him?”
Hermione, finally regaining control, just rolled her eyes. “You know you can’t tell him, Ginny, so why don’t you just stay here? You only have a little over an hour anyway.”
“He’s expecting me. I can’t just stay here.”
“Remember how I told you before you left that your only danger was Malfoy falling in love with you. It looks like I was right!” Then Hermione began laughing again.
“Ha ha. Aren’t you hilarious, Hermione. Always the know-it-all, aren’t you?”
Then she Disapparated, wondering why in the world she had thought Hermione would be able to help her in the first place.
Draco caught sight of her the moment she came back into the room. Immediately ceasing dancing with whichever annoying woman he happened to be partners with, he strode over to her and asked silkily, “May I have this dance?”
She gazed at him strangely, as if trying to decide whether she really didn’t hate him, or if she just thought so. Even she couldn’t deny that he was being an all-around good man, but of course that had to be because she was disguised as an elegant, beautiful, and oh-so-eligible pureblood. “Sure,” she answered in a strangled voice.
But he didn’t take her hand right away. “Are you okay?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he gazed into her flushed face.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she answered, trying to grin happily. But she knew her smile looked fake.
“No, you’re not,” he said flatly, wondering why she was lying. “Would you like to go into the library or something?”
“Well, sure. But just for a moment,” she replied. Then she wondered why she agreed. Surely being alone in a room with Draco would be much worse than just dancing with him in a crowded ballroom.
She was a Gryffindor, after all – even though she might be masquerading as a Slytherin. With that thought in mind she gathered her wits about her and walked calmly into the library with Draco.
“So what’s wrong?” he asked once they were safely through the door.
“Nothing,” she answered, her voice a bit too high. “Nothing at all.”
He stared at her strangely. Was he making her uncomfortable? He didn’t want to; he was getting used to talking to her and was having a great time.
Damn. Maybe she knew he was falling for her, and that was making her uncomfortable. Needless to say, he would much rather have her feeling the same way back.
After all, she was interesting. She was easy to talk to, and he’d never met anyone like that. To everyone else he was cold, formal, because no one had her fire. He liked that about her, and didn’t want to stop getting to know her. He wouldn’t mind just being friends with her; he would love getting to know her, but he didn’t see how she could leave him today, like she, Ella Greengrass, had never existed.
“I’m making you uncomfortable, aren’t I?” he questioned.
“No, I’m fine,” Ginny insisted, staring into his eyes, but that made her heart jump a little. “I just… don’t think I’m the person you should be choosing at this party. Because you are, aren’t you?”
“Why do you think you aren’t the person for me?” he asked, looking a bit offended. “Are you with someone?”
“No, but—”
“Then why not?”
“I’m not… who you think I am,” she whispered.
“I know that you’re smart, interesting, and beautiful,” he answered, his voice a bit harsh at the thought of losing her. “I know that I would rather spend time with you than any of those people out there.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she insisted, staring at him now.
“You refuse?” he snapped, looking hurt just for a moment until he forced the expression away.
“Yes,” she sighed, feeling far more pain than she thought she would have under the circumstances. “But you don’t understand—”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice resigned, as he turned and left the room.
Ginny sank down shakily onto the sofa, feeling like she had made the wrong choice.
Draco had spent the last hour dancing with dozens of women. He had talked to them all, and every single one fell short of… her.
He didn’t understand why she had done that. He had told her it didn’t matter what her reason was, but now he felt like he had to know. Without thinking, at five minutes to midnight, he sprinted to the library and opened the door. He half-expected her not to be there, but she was, sitting on the sofa staring off into space.
Ginny looked up when she heard the door open.
“Why?” Draco demanded.
“It — it doesn’t matter,” she answered, looking away. “You said so yourself.”
“Yes, it does matter, because I can tell you want to be with me, don’t you?”
“That doesn’t matter either,” she answered, her voice strange.
“Tell me you don’t care for me, and I’ll leave and never bother you,” he said, his heart pounding; it seemed so unlike him to do something like this, but he had to, because he wanted Ella Greengrass.
“I don’t — I really don’t —” Then she stopped and shook her head, because she couldn’t say it — she couldn’t lie.
“See, Ella? Why can’t we date? I want to know you—”
Then they heard a commotion outside in the ballroom. Exchanging stares of confusion, they silently agreed to go see what was happening. As they entered, they saw a circle made around a mad-looking Pansy Parkinson and two girls…
The Greengrass sisters.
Ginny gasped loudly and began to turn so that she could Apparate, but before she could Pansy pounced on her and dragged her into the centre with Daphne and Astoria.
“Pansy! What the hell are you doing?” Draco shouting, following them.
“Wait just one second, Draco,” Pansy said, grinning sweetly. She looked around at everyone, keeping a firm grasp on Ginny’s arm.
Ginny’s heart began to pound rapidly — she knew something had gone horrible wrong.
Pansy began to address the crowd, “I didn’t think there was any such person as Ella Greengrass so I went and found her so-called cousins, and guess what they have to say?”
“I’ve never seen this person before in my life,” Astoria exclaimed, right on cue.
The clock began to strike midnight and Ginny gasped as she felt her hair lengthening and her nose getting wider. The hair framing her face was turning from brown to red, and everyone was staring at her intently.
“Ginny Weasley!” Pansy exclaimed, quickly dropped her arm in disgust.
“Ginny?” Draco bellowed, his face the picture of surprise.
Unable to stay there one moment longer, Ginny took a few steps away from where Pansy was trying to grab her again and spun precariously in order to Apparate…
One of her glass slippers coming off in the process.
To Be Continued.
R_Ravenclaw is the author of 3 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 26 members. Members who liked Of Pureblood Dances, Secret Disguises, and Glass Slippers also liked 1068 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 26 members. Members who liked Of Pureblood Dances, Secret Disguises, and Glass Slippers also liked 1068 other stories.
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