Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Tender Beast
Slughorn's party exceeded all expectations. This time, the symbol was the phoenix. As he marked, not long ago, Hogwarts resurrected from ashes, just like a phoenix, and this party was in its honor.
The Great Hall was decorated in golden and scarlet colors. Pallid flames poured from walls and stretched under guest's feet. Trays with drinks and deserts were soaring through the air. The room was illuminated with miniature phoenixes, which were placed in spheres. They were flaming, incinerating, and resurrecting. And again. And again.
Fascinated guests were slowly filling the room. Slughorn had invited all of his collection's pearls, who, with great satisfaction, greeted their beloved professor. Hogwart's students also did not lose the opportunity to show themselves. They were mingling in their best outfits, wide-eying famous guests, and their fascinating surroundings. In the middle of this whole activity, Professor Slughorn was like a satisfied fat squid, pointing his tentacles in every direction.
The party was fairyland, except for one boy, who stayed at the very edge of this festivity. He sat at the golden cloth-covered table and saw his surroundings more like hell than any fairytale. His dark full dress robe was adorned with white pearl buttons, and his face was covered with a congruous black mask. A very dissatisfied Pansy sat at his side. She fixed wrinkles on her dark dress and mumbled about mingling around guests like everyone else. However, she still did not dare to leave his side.
Last of all, Zabini, dressed in his best tux, has arrived. He eyed everyone and immediately left the room to return not with a girl but with a stunning, gorgeous woman. She entered the hall and brought light with her. Every head turned in their direction. Even the orchestra went silent.
Elvein wore a silver-white long silk gown. It started with a white-gold choker around her neck, poured down her body like liquid, shamelessly hugged her every carve, arms and descended to the floor. The only glimpse of color on her was red lips.
Draco was already behind the couple and could not take his eyes off Elvein's back. The only trace of naked skin on her body was grabbed greedily by Zabini's fingers. The girl's swan neck was opened to the eyes since she had gathered her long blond hair in a French twist using a single hair clip, covered in snowy pearls.
Elvein stopped, slightly bending her head to one side as if she could not dare turn her face around and look at Draco. Her black pearl earrings caught the reflection of a flaming phoenix. This last spark of light was already unbearable for Malfoy. He closed his eyes, wanting to lament and laugh out loud all at the same time.
Zabini was not confused, though. He gently pushed Elvein's back, directing her towards Slughorn. Pansy gripped Malfoy's hand tightly, as if afraid that Elvein would run to them and snatch him out of her bloody claws.
"Miss Tempels, you look stunning!" Even Slughorn was amazed.
His voice had an alarm's effect. Guests started moving around, going back to their activities.
"Thank you for such a wonderful party, Professor." Zabini conveniently turned the attention towards himself.
Guests started crowding the professor with renewed enthusiasm, who was not leaving Elvein's, and therefore Zabini's, side. The photographer generously poured them with photo light. Everyone wanted to be in the pictures, guests and students alike. Slughorn and Zabini, of course, were squeezing their bodies in every single shot. Elvein just stood there, eyes on the ground, unsuccessfully trying to hide behind a black and white mask. Zabini acted on it too. With one smooth move on his hand, he swiftly removed her mask, earning another gasp from astonished guests. The world has not seen such beamish Blaize ever before.
The evening was turning into night. Zabini sat Elvein at the table presented her with a punch, never leaving her side and acting like a true gentleman. But, whatever she did, the photographer would not leave her alone. She sat there, never erecting her gaze, refusing to eat, dance, even glass with the drink stayed untouched between her delicate fingers.
They brought a cake. Specifically, a giant phoenix-shaped red cake flew into the room. Burst into flames and served itself on guest's plates, causing apparent ecstasy. Elvein used this opportunity to slip away, not seen even by Zabini himself. But could this have stayed unnoticed by Draco?
Malfoy stepped through the dark corridor towards the light. Elvein sauntered, hearing the footsteps behind her.
"Where are they going, Violet? Are not those your kids?" The fat lady out her glass down and elbowed already tipsy pale witch, who kept stuffing her mouth with spirited chocolate.
"Leave them Elizabeth. Those are good lads. As for you my friend," she turned towards the drunk monk "you were to propose the next toast."
Voices frazzled in the air as they left out a backdoor of the castle, walking towards the dark lake. The girl stopped only when they reached the old oak. Malfoy stood ten feet behind her. One did not dare to turn around, second could not approach her. So they stood there, day and night, behind the dark horizon.
Her body shivered. Strong wind soared through her white clothes. Draco thought, one more blow like this, and Elvein's body would fly towards the lake, leaving him alone in this sinful world.
"Forgive me," her whisper was barely audible.
Forgive her! For what? Is he not the one who should be begging for her forgiveness? Those thoughts gave Draco the strength to voice the ideas that had haunted him the second Elvein's foot stepped into that hellish room. But, maybe, long before that.
"You are the most fascinating creature that might ever exist on this filth called Earth. You tore out my heart and put me on my knees. Push me away, and I will have nothing to live for." His lids grew heavier, and the body was losing steadiness.
Slowly, Elvein turned to face him. Her lips trembled like the last maple leaves. Swallowing unshed tears, she continued:
"You deserve elucidation. Merlin, I owe you so much explanation, but I just can't!" Her voice shattered like someone being tortured with a crucio curse, begging her extorter for mercy.
"I will understand everything. I do not care what he has done to you. I will never think of what you feel towards Zabini. I will settle on whatever you will spare for me." He felt how unstable his feet had become.
"Draco, if you knew. Oh, Merlin, if you only knew!" The girl was already weeping.
"Have a pity on me!" Draco's fingers grabbed her fragile shoulders and shook them. Elvein escaped his grip grabbed her hair; a desperate groan passed her lips, and she ran away.
...
The ocean's salty spume was dewing Demian's face. He sat on a cliff and held threadbare vellum, on which simple muggle pencil scratches bloomed into the outer Hogsmeade landscape. He performed strange, complicated movements with his bare fingers and miniature sun swam in the air. Ekrizdis watched a tiny star that hovered right in front of his face and tried his best to saturate all his feelings in the planet's warmth and light. There was so much despair, melancholy, and sadness resonating from his chest that he could not tend it with something pleasant no matter how hard he tried. Tiny planet fought little more against wind and unmerciful oceans dampness. Sparkled one last time and died away.
The man's long dark figure erected and dragged himself back to the jet-black castle. Sat at the working desk and opened the vellum. For a moment, he fumbled with phoenix feather, which was a gift from ages greatest wizard, and memory swam in his mind:
In Dumbledore's office, the moonlight was intertwining with the thinking bowl's shimmering. The silence was stirred with phoenix's low coo. The Headmaster's searching gaze was not leaving Demian's face. Ekrizdis watched him with equal intensity. Dumbledore was one to stop silence:
"It's impossible not to see the help you could do to the whole magical society Demian. You must be the one person who knows exactly what Voldemort is capable of."
"Albus, my answer is unchanged. Riddle will never try to enroll me, and you know why. I have told you a thousand times that I will not follow him. But I will not allow you to turn me into a second Severus." Ekrizdis' firm voice and even more serious expression would have shut anyone up, but Dumbledore continued:
"Demian, I know that this world has disappointed you from your early years, and there is very little which is dear to your heart, but she is also part of this world."
"Albus!" Demian's voice held an unhidden warning, which made even Dumbledore take a pause. Only when Ekrizdis' features relaxed a little, he continued:
"I admit that you are stronger-" Albus studied Demian's features intensely but still did not finish the sentence. He continued, "Elvein is also part of this world, Demian."
"And in what kind of position will she be if I agree to your proposition, Albus? I am sure you have thought of that, but you are eager to make that sacrifice." A sardonic smile crossed Ekrizdis' handsome features. "You took so much effort to make me see this world as something other than darkness. And you did succeed. But even your brightest mind could not predict that I would care for her with so much intensity. I am refusing you for the same reason you are trying to enroll me, Albus. So it's time to admit that in this battle, you are the one who loses." Demian stood up and called behind him, "I'm leaving."
Ekrizdis put away the quill, leaving the vellum untouched.
...
Draco stopped existing. He realized that he could not walk, could not breathe, could not feel, could not live anymore. Maybe, he was already dead cause this is precisely how death should feel. Then why do his tears fall?
The only thing he was still capable of was thinking, and even in his mind, Elvein's words were booming. "There are lots of ways to control and inhibit emotions..." "...It's very similar to occlumency..."
Draco counted till ten, then till twenty. Turn your mind off. Concentrate. Feel your heartbeat. He recalled occlumency lessons. It was hard, but he managed because he had no other choice. His heartbeat decelerated, breathing even. Chaos in his head turned into a slow river. Thoughts, like blinks on the water, were shining his way. He followed the current of his thought ball. Elvein's voice sounded like an echo, and he saw everything from the side. "..then, I have experienced true love, but not towards him.." "..who do you love Elvein?" "... the sun rose.." "...we have danced, at the very end.." "...One simple smile, or a single dance, can cross over your whole future.." "..then why are you crying Elvein..." "...you smell nice..." "..Draco, if you knew. Oh, Merlin, if you only knew.."
Strength left him. He was terrified to believe. If he considers now and turns out he's wrong, he would not survive. Trembling fingers squeezed the ground; lungs refused to let air in. He just stood on his knees, shaking.
The Great Hall was decorated in golden and scarlet colors. Pallid flames poured from walls and stretched under guest's feet. Trays with drinks and deserts were soaring through the air. The room was illuminated with miniature phoenixes, which were placed in spheres. They were flaming, incinerating, and resurrecting. And again. And again.
Fascinated guests were slowly filling the room. Slughorn had invited all of his collection's pearls, who, with great satisfaction, greeted their beloved professor. Hogwart's students also did not lose the opportunity to show themselves. They were mingling in their best outfits, wide-eying famous guests, and their fascinating surroundings. In the middle of this whole activity, Professor Slughorn was like a satisfied fat squid, pointing his tentacles in every direction.
The party was fairyland, except for one boy, who stayed at the very edge of this festivity. He sat at the golden cloth-covered table and saw his surroundings more like hell than any fairytale. His dark full dress robe was adorned with white pearl buttons, and his face was covered with a congruous black mask. A very dissatisfied Pansy sat at his side. She fixed wrinkles on her dark dress and mumbled about mingling around guests like everyone else. However, she still did not dare to leave his side.
Last of all, Zabini, dressed in his best tux, has arrived. He eyed everyone and immediately left the room to return not with a girl but with a stunning, gorgeous woman. She entered the hall and brought light with her. Every head turned in their direction. Even the orchestra went silent.
Elvein wore a silver-white long silk gown. It started with a white-gold choker around her neck, poured down her body like liquid, shamelessly hugged her every carve, arms and descended to the floor. The only glimpse of color on her was red lips.
Draco was already behind the couple and could not take his eyes off Elvein's back. The only trace of naked skin on her body was grabbed greedily by Zabini's fingers. The girl's swan neck was opened to the eyes since she had gathered her long blond hair in a French twist using a single hair clip, covered in snowy pearls.
Elvein stopped, slightly bending her head to one side as if she could not dare turn her face around and look at Draco. Her black pearl earrings caught the reflection of a flaming phoenix. This last spark of light was already unbearable for Malfoy. He closed his eyes, wanting to lament and laugh out loud all at the same time.
Zabini was not confused, though. He gently pushed Elvein's back, directing her towards Slughorn. Pansy gripped Malfoy's hand tightly, as if afraid that Elvein would run to them and snatch him out of her bloody claws.
"Miss Tempels, you look stunning!" Even Slughorn was amazed.
His voice had an alarm's effect. Guests started moving around, going back to their activities.
"Thank you for such a wonderful party, Professor." Zabini conveniently turned the attention towards himself.
Guests started crowding the professor with renewed enthusiasm, who was not leaving Elvein's, and therefore Zabini's, side. The photographer generously poured them with photo light. Everyone wanted to be in the pictures, guests and students alike. Slughorn and Zabini, of course, were squeezing their bodies in every single shot. Elvein just stood there, eyes on the ground, unsuccessfully trying to hide behind a black and white mask. Zabini acted on it too. With one smooth move on his hand, he swiftly removed her mask, earning another gasp from astonished guests. The world has not seen such beamish Blaize ever before.
The evening was turning into night. Zabini sat Elvein at the table presented her with a punch, never leaving her side and acting like a true gentleman. But, whatever she did, the photographer would not leave her alone. She sat there, never erecting her gaze, refusing to eat, dance, even glass with the drink stayed untouched between her delicate fingers.
They brought a cake. Specifically, a giant phoenix-shaped red cake flew into the room. Burst into flames and served itself on guest's plates, causing apparent ecstasy. Elvein used this opportunity to slip away, not seen even by Zabini himself. But could this have stayed unnoticed by Draco?
Malfoy stepped through the dark corridor towards the light. Elvein sauntered, hearing the footsteps behind her.
"Where are they going, Violet? Are not those your kids?" The fat lady out her glass down and elbowed already tipsy pale witch, who kept stuffing her mouth with spirited chocolate.
"Leave them Elizabeth. Those are good lads. As for you my friend," she turned towards the drunk monk "you were to propose the next toast."
Voices frazzled in the air as they left out a backdoor of the castle, walking towards the dark lake. The girl stopped only when they reached the old oak. Malfoy stood ten feet behind her. One did not dare to turn around, second could not approach her. So they stood there, day and night, behind the dark horizon.
Her body shivered. Strong wind soared through her white clothes. Draco thought, one more blow like this, and Elvein's body would fly towards the lake, leaving him alone in this sinful world.
"Forgive me," her whisper was barely audible.
Forgive her! For what? Is he not the one who should be begging for her forgiveness? Those thoughts gave Draco the strength to voice the ideas that had haunted him the second Elvein's foot stepped into that hellish room. But, maybe, long before that.
"You are the most fascinating creature that might ever exist on this filth called Earth. You tore out my heart and put me on my knees. Push me away, and I will have nothing to live for." His lids grew heavier, and the body was losing steadiness.
Slowly, Elvein turned to face him. Her lips trembled like the last maple leaves. Swallowing unshed tears, she continued:
"You deserve elucidation. Merlin, I owe you so much explanation, but I just can't!" Her voice shattered like someone being tortured with a crucio curse, begging her extorter for mercy.
"I will understand everything. I do not care what he has done to you. I will never think of what you feel towards Zabini. I will settle on whatever you will spare for me." He felt how unstable his feet had become.
"Draco, if you knew. Oh, Merlin, if you only knew!" The girl was already weeping.
"Have a pity on me!" Draco's fingers grabbed her fragile shoulders and shook them. Elvein escaped his grip grabbed her hair; a desperate groan passed her lips, and she ran away.
...
The ocean's salty spume was dewing Demian's face. He sat on a cliff and held threadbare vellum, on which simple muggle pencil scratches bloomed into the outer Hogsmeade landscape. He performed strange, complicated movements with his bare fingers and miniature sun swam in the air. Ekrizdis watched a tiny star that hovered right in front of his face and tried his best to saturate all his feelings in the planet's warmth and light. There was so much despair, melancholy, and sadness resonating from his chest that he could not tend it with something pleasant no matter how hard he tried. Tiny planet fought little more against wind and unmerciful oceans dampness. Sparkled one last time and died away.
The man's long dark figure erected and dragged himself back to the jet-black castle. Sat at the working desk and opened the vellum. For a moment, he fumbled with phoenix feather, which was a gift from ages greatest wizard, and memory swam in his mind:
In Dumbledore's office, the moonlight was intertwining with the thinking bowl's shimmering. The silence was stirred with phoenix's low coo. The Headmaster's searching gaze was not leaving Demian's face. Ekrizdis watched him with equal intensity. Dumbledore was one to stop silence:
"It's impossible not to see the help you could do to the whole magical society Demian. You must be the one person who knows exactly what Voldemort is capable of."
"Albus, my answer is unchanged. Riddle will never try to enroll me, and you know why. I have told you a thousand times that I will not follow him. But I will not allow you to turn me into a second Severus." Ekrizdis' firm voice and even more serious expression would have shut anyone up, but Dumbledore continued:
"Demian, I know that this world has disappointed you from your early years, and there is very little which is dear to your heart, but she is also part of this world."
"Albus!" Demian's voice held an unhidden warning, which made even Dumbledore take a pause. Only when Ekrizdis' features relaxed a little, he continued:
"I admit that you are stronger-" Albus studied Demian's features intensely but still did not finish the sentence. He continued, "Elvein is also part of this world, Demian."
"And in what kind of position will she be if I agree to your proposition, Albus? I am sure you have thought of that, but you are eager to make that sacrifice." A sardonic smile crossed Ekrizdis' handsome features. "You took so much effort to make me see this world as something other than darkness. And you did succeed. But even your brightest mind could not predict that I would care for her with so much intensity. I am refusing you for the same reason you are trying to enroll me, Albus. So it's time to admit that in this battle, you are the one who loses." Demian stood up and called behind him, "I'm leaving."
Ekrizdis put away the quill, leaving the vellum untouched.
...
Draco stopped existing. He realized that he could not walk, could not breathe, could not feel, could not live anymore. Maybe, he was already dead cause this is precisely how death should feel. Then why do his tears fall?
The only thing he was still capable of was thinking, and even in his mind, Elvein's words were booming. "There are lots of ways to control and inhibit emotions..." "...It's very similar to occlumency..."
Draco counted till ten, then till twenty. Turn your mind off. Concentrate. Feel your heartbeat. He recalled occlumency lessons. It was hard, but he managed because he had no other choice. His heartbeat decelerated, breathing even. Chaos in his head turned into a slow river. Thoughts, like blinks on the water, were shining his way. He followed the current of his thought ball. Elvein's voice sounded like an echo, and he saw everything from the side. "..then, I have experienced true love, but not towards him.." "..who do you love Elvein?" "... the sun rose.." "...we have danced, at the very end.." "...One simple smile, or a single dance, can cross over your whole future.." "..then why are you crying Elvein..." "...you smell nice..." "..Draco, if you knew. Oh, Merlin, if you only knew.."
Strength left him. He was terrified to believe. If he considers now and turns out he's wrong, he would not survive. Trembling fingers squeezed the ground; lungs refused to let air in. He just stood on his knees, shaking.
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