A Thread of Control Part I
Ships: Blair/Chuck, Draco/Blair
Summary: The night had barely begun when things started to lose focus and her plan began to unravel to the thread she wasn’t even grasping now.
Notes: This is my first fanfic for this ship (but it's my new favorite) and my first fic on lj. I hope you like it and sorry for any typos, It's usually written in the wee hours of the morning :]
A Thread of Control
Chapter I: A Single Unfortunate Event
Four o’clock in the morning on the London tube is a place full of the homeless in tatters of patchwork rags and clubbers wasted beyond belief with smudged faces and clothes as sordid as the hobos. On this day though there was one figure that certainly did not belong in this motley assortment of monotony. A young woman sat alone in the middle of a bench her Chanel gown being the the most obtrusive give away to her outstanding feat of misfitting.
How had she gotten herself into this mess? Blair thought to herself. Certainly she had gone through some crazy things before, but never the intense indignity of this hovel of public transit.
The night had barely begun when things started to lose focus and her plan began to unravel to the thread she wasn’t even grasping now.
Draco Malfoy could hardly believe such a hideous thing would ever be thought of, much less actually organized! The greatest travesty of all wasn’t even that it was simply taking place! It was taking place at Malfoy Manor.
It was all Parkinson’s idea. The ghastly child was probably still sore at him for breaking her puggy little heart in 6th year, but his mother seemed to agree that it was a good idea and ever since the war was over Lucius had been agreeing to anything that could possibly protect the family, who was on the brink of all being locked away in Azkaban.
After the final battle Lucius had somehow managed to use what little power he had left to get himself off with only 40 days in Azkaban, community service and lifetime probation. His wife and son got off scot-free as well. Yet, one mistake and the dementors would be his only company for the rest of his life, which the Ministry would ensure would be long. Draco had a feeling this success had a lot to do with the lump sums donated to the Ministry Treasury and St. Mungo’s.
Somehow Parkinson got a job at the Ministry and was Lucius’s probation officer. “The pig probably begged for weeks to land our job”, Malfoy mused bitterly.
It was Pansy who suggested that the Malfoys host a Gala for all high society to better their public persona with the wizarding public, especially for the sake of Draco’s budding future of taking over the family business. So, all the highest of the high society of most of the western world was invited: purebloods, half-bloods, mudbloods, and muggles.
All of the filth piling up in the ballroom, dining room and other public areas of the manor was absolutely abhorrent to Draco. He brooded over the vague possibility that someone plausibly worth while would be in attendance this evening, as he tied his tie about his neck. “Even though there probably won’t be, I’ll be dressed to kill none the less.” He finished his Windsor knot and faced the ornate door leading to the hall. He took a deep breath, “You’ve been in worse situations before, old boy, at least mudblood Granger won’t be in attendance. Is that really the only plus of the evening?” He turned the brass knob and little did he know that it was.
“Dorota, is it really a serious intention of my mother’s to go across the Atlantic just to go to this silly Gala? I’ve never even heard of the Malloys… or Malfoys, whoever they are!”
“You know your mother Miss Blair. We must go.”
Blair simply rolled her eyes in response, yes she did know even though she wished this one thing she didn’t and really, knowledge wasn’t something Blair Waldorf wished away easily. She knew knowledge meant one thing: Power, and with power came control. And control was something very fleeting that seemed to take a blessed rest on her and Chuck’s relationship. It was finally going swimmingly (for once), but this sudden trip to England could be the one spark that starts the blaze. Blair paused as she sat in her silk robe on her down comforter watching Dorota pack her selected ensembles. She merely nodded at the appropriate times.
This, albeit short, absence would be just enough time away to make straying plausible. Three days. But if Chuck really did want something else he would have gone out and gotten it already, right? Just like every other time.
But this trip was different, Blair could tell, and it was rare that she was ever wrong. She knew that.
The room smelled horrendous. It smelled of money, expensive perfume and eager pheromones. Draco was in his element. He knew just how to play their game, no matter how tired of it he was and how they never could really figure he was the one playing them. That is until it was too late. Three wizards approached him, as he descended the white marble staircase, seemingly overeager to shake his hand, thank him for his hospitality, and compliment him on his various successes. What else is new? It wasn’t like he was too blind to see the glints of hatred and fear edging behind their eyes.
These people just wanted to see and be seen. What a load of crap! They’d never hold a candle to any of the Malfoy success acting like that. It was manipulation of these creatures who thought they ran the world that had brought the Malfoys their real control. Malfoy knew that you could be seen but you never wanted to see. You have to remain a mystery or everyone will stop looking and the illusion will be lost, just as the power you held over your spellbound audience.
Suddenly, Draco Malfoy found himself seeing for the first time in his life. He had just walked in to the entryway to say hello to his parents who greeting guests, and was spellbound by a girl on his doorstep. What a horrible case for a Malfoy to be in but who could blame him?
The girl’s curled dark hair caresses her face and waved down to her shoulders, almost shaking to the start of her darkest green, al most black, strapless, floor length gown that clung to her every curve like a plaster cast.
He froze as her dark eyes met his pale ones. They searched curiously at first and suddenly they pierced like daggers, a stare Malfoy was sure he had given countless times but had never really understood the repercussions until now. He was chilled to the bone.
Anger welled up inside him and was about to boil over into visible expression. Who was this little witch that thought she was all high and mighty?
A sudden hand on his arm brought the stoic young man out of his reverie.
“Pretty for a muggle, isn’t she” Pansy whispered in his ear.
“You know I would never think of such a foul creature” Malfoy retorted, determined to forget his momentary lapse in judgement.
“Oh come on! She’s gorgeous and you know how the press would eat it up if you danced with her.”
“I’d rather dance with Ron Weasley, that blood traitor, than a filthy muggle!” He spat.
“Whatever. Your choice whether or not to help your family, and she is the cream of the crop tonight.”
Draco hated to admit that the fat cow pansy was right (if only those two girls could change facades, his life would be much more pleasant). After a quick glance over the room Malfoy was dismayed to see the second best looking girl, a squib, was already being led out the back door by a butler (transfigured house elves). Damn Hiltons, why are you such drunkards.
He glanced back towards the doorway and again his gaze met her daggers and he parried with his own most viscous attack. But then a bemused smile slipped onto his face. He knew what he could do. It would save his reputation, and teach this muggle a lesson, and it was going to be all too easy. Or so he thought.
The flight went as well as 7 hours in a confined space with her mother could have. But that wasn’t really what Blair was worried about. She was a bit more preoccupied with the person she left behind. Getting ready, Blair was simply an automaton: perfecting her outward. shiny surface while inside she was swaying from highs and lows like a rowboat breaking into the swells of the ocean. What was Chuck doing while she was stuck here heading out for a night she could have back home, only with one small exception; at home she would be arriving on the arm of Chuck Bass.
Nothing about London fazed her. It was the same as always, that is until their limo pulled up to the Malfoy Manor just outside the city. The entire house looked to be made of white marble and albino peacocks roamed the expansive lawns. It was the type of house that must have been in the family for generations.
Blair simply scoffed at their extremes, “I’ve seen some eccentric displays of cash, but this really takes the cake.”
As the car pulled up to the open doors Blair began to go through the motions. After all, she was in her element. Walk through, talk to all the yuppies who flocked about, just trying to hold onto their position in this crowd. This wasn’t even an act put on solely by new money anymore, everyone was doing it, but Blair knew this didn’t do anything for you. Distant mystery did far greater wonders.
As the two Waldorfs approached the doorway they were welcomed by their hosts, who knew what they were doing as they were obviously insincere. At least they were to the trained eye of Blair, who was in no way unfamiliar with insincerity.
But upon a perusal of the other guests in the entryway Blair caught sight of something that put a little dent in that seemingly impervious shell.
The crystal blue eyes met hers and she could feel the static. His entire appearance was perfect to a tee, but you never doubted the effortlessness with which he carried himself. His classic black tuxedo was a sharp contrast to his fair skin, pale blonde hair, and icy eyes.
Wait. What was she, Blair Waldorf, doing ogling at this stranger? So she did what she always did. She shot him her best ‘you could never have this’ glare and was taken aback when her mother took her wrist.
“Do you see the blonde? Draco Malfoy.”
“I saw him very well, with that obviously real hair and his brilliant exterior. I should have known he was heir apparent to this mini Taj Mahal.”
“Play nicely Blair. You are a guest here.”
She would be polite, no doubt, but Blair certainly wasn’t going to play nicely.
She glanced back at Draco and some creature, obviously in love with him, was hanging off his arm, but despite that, this time he returned her glare.
Really, was that the best he could do? Blair scoffed as she made her way into the ballroom grabbing a champagne flute from a passing waiter. After several pointless conversations and a few spins around the dance floor with the few decent looking guys there, Blair took another glass of champagne and moved off into a hall hoping to find a bathroom where she could freshen up.
As she strolled through the halls furnished in classic extravagance, echoing a baroque of ages past, the only thing she noticed as odd before she slipped up a spiral staircase was the large amount of décor involving serpents, but whatever, it was their prerogative.
After this spectacle she was certainly surprised to find the modern, minimalist lounge-type room she entered at the tops of the staircase. Fortunately, straight ahead was an open door leading to a bathroom. Upon entering it was obvious whose area this was; it wasn’t quite unkempt but it still had the air of a young guy about it.
“So this is Draco’s little hideaway,” Blair thought to herself as she reapplied her lip gloss in the mirror. As she exited the bathroom and approached the stairs, she saw a distinctly tousled head of blonde hair rising around the staircase. She had two choices: hide or stand her ground. Do I even need to tell you which one she chose?
The party had been going on for at least 2 hours and he thought it was about time to pounce on that young muggle girl from earlier, but she was nowhere to be found. He scanned to entire ballroom, avoiding many a dance with clingy social climbers and still no luck.
“She certainly didn’t seem like the type who would wind up indisposed with someone she had just met, at least not with someone with less charm than me,” her thought. Instead of cruising the dance floor for the umpteenth time, Draco decided to head up to his room for a moment and take a break from all this frivolous racket.
He exited and moved towards the spiral staircase leading to his rooms.
Suddenly, he paused at the foot of the stairs. Was that foot steps he heard above? The click of heels no less? “Who is in my room?!” he thought, infuriated as he rushed up the short flight.
He was astounded to see the girl lounging on his sofa as if she owned the place. Although, she certainly looked as though she could own the place, her elegant frame draped over the seat, he thought to himself, as she fiddled with some muggle electronic device. She was the picture of lordy nonchalance.
Whoa. Only Malfoy was allowed to look that way in his own house, and certainly no muggle could!
“A’hem”
She glanced up, still portraying absolute innocence and nonchalance, but as her eyes caught his, he saw a glint in them that was slightly unsettling. Unsettling?! A muggle! What was he thinking?
“So did you come to get away from the incessantly mundane as well, or are you simply neglecting your guests because you’re as rude as you look?”
Malfoy could only look at this ignorant child. Not only did her speaking first surprise him, but the fact that she had the nerve to speak to someone of his pureblood caliber that way. She again brought him out of his reverie,
“Such a shame that a pretty face would have to hold something so dumb, or did you not hear my question?”
GET A GRIP MALFOY!
“I hardly think you’re in a place to be asking questions. Why are you here? Couldn’t you tell this is one of the private rooms of the house?” he parried, finally.
“I obviously knew. I came here to get away from those crones downstairs. And it was perfectly private until you strolled in here.”
“Excuse me, but these are my rooms and in case you’re too classless to know it, not only is it rude to intrude, it is inappropriate for a young lady to be alone in a man’s room.” He knew what he was implying, but her pure disdain for propriety was appalling and he no longer cared for his plan of using her.
“Well, well, now I can see that we both have a sharpened wit. Why don’t we try to be a little more civilized? I’m surprised you don’t know that a girl’s not going anywhere in this room with that kind of talk.”
“Why you filthy little… Would you PLEASE JUST…” his words through gritted teeth were cut off by a beep from the device she had been fondling.
She took one glance at it and whatever she saw must have dismayed her immensely, because for one second her facial resolve slipped and he was sure he saw real sadness on her regal face. Someone less versed in observance and deception would have missed it.
Suddenly, she rose with a slightly deranged glint in her eyes. He thought he heard her mutter what sounded like, “xoxo” as she rose, but that couldn’t be right, it was just babble.
She slinked over to him with the most coy look and even Draco had a moment of weakness under her gaze.
“Lets drop this act and get on with the show,” and she took his hand and led him towards the stairs.
Shock and disgust were the first thoughts that entered Draco’s mind (which he, of course, hid impeccably). How could this muggle even consider this? He almost ripped his hand away and his wand out (tee-hee), but then he remembered his abandoned plan.
Well if she was going to play right into his hand, what not play along?