Disclaimer: Sadly, not mine.
Summary: Traditions: a glance into The Council
A/N: Takes place about 5 years after Chosen. All other cross over time-lines are out of cannon to suit this story.
The title of this is taken from a Sara Teasdale poem “Come”
3/7: Come with arms outstretched to take me,
Come with lips pursed up to cling.
“Dawn? That man over there is staring at you.”
Vi smirks at her friend and Dawn’s eyes land on the tall, brooding blonde across the room. Unable to help herself, she rolls her eyes. Amused by her reaction he lifts his glass to her. Unable to control herself she reciprocates and promptly turns back to the conversation she was having. But Vi won’t let it go.
Dawn is unable to hide her irritation.
“Malfoy. One of Dumbledore’s. Or not. It depends on the day.”
Vi scowls at the non clarifier and steals a glance across the room. She missed the excitement of the Wizarding war, herself being stationed in China at the time dealing with rivaling demon triads.
“Is he the all chosen one?”
She can’t help to feel a little uncomfortable at the undeterred interest in Dawn emanating from the man. He’s the kind of handsome that’s a little dangerous, or a lot. It could be fun. If Dawn stopped to notice for two seconds. But Dawn replies her with a harrumph.
“Hardly. He’s the nemesis. Or at least was.”
Vi steals another quick glance and the blonde man in the impeccable white suit.
“So he’s good now?”
Dawn tares herself from the conversation which she can no longer follow. Vi is amused to see annoyance in her eyes and if she’s not mistaken, and she does know Dawn well, more than a glimmer of interest.
“Depends who you ask.” Dawn’s eyes narrow on her friend. “If you’re so keen on the git, go get ‘em tiger.”
“And get between you two? I like my hair not pulled, thank you very much.”
Dawn scowls at Vi’s laughing face.
“There’s nothing between Malfoy and I except a grudging tolerance.”
Vi nods, unconvinced.
“Right and Faith and Xander are just holding hands under the table.”
Dawn eyes find the two mentioned and she blushes at the not so well disguised groping session at their table. Focusing again she schools her features into a mask of annoyance.
“Why are you pushing this Malfoy thing?”
Vi laughs sipping her martini.
“So there’s a thing?”
“Right, well. Maybe you can convince yourself of that when he’s done undressing you with his eyes.”
Dawn doesn’t know how to stop the sudden blush creeping on her cheeks. She settles for indignation.
“I’d like to tell Malfoy what he can do with his eyes.”
Looking over her shoulder Vi smirks.
“Good then. You can tell him now, he’s coming over.”
She watches in delight as her friend freezes and looks over her shoulder to step back from the white suited man that’s standing behind her. He raises his glass to her again.
“Summers. Delectable as ever.”
Vi clears her throat and is amused to find Dawn’s annoyed face turned back to her.
“You crazy kids have fun.”
They watch her walk off.
“Is that girl related to the Weasleys?”
Dawn’s head is all foggy. He smells cool and clean and his grey eyes twinkle. No! Malfoy eyes are not to be twinkled at her. Her response is less than eloquent.
He grins, satisfied with something and she frowns. It’s not normal that she finds him so disconcerting. He takes her drink out of her hands and puts both their glasses on the table behind her. He leans over her to do this and she shivers as his arm brushes her shoulder. Which only adds more gleam to that self satisfied smirk of his.
“Dance with me Summers.”
She has no idea why she lets him take her hand and lead her out onto the floor.