XXI: Three’s A Crowd

Chapter XXI: Three's A Crowd

And Charis is now strolling down a sunny beach, having fish and chips, Morgana thought bitterly, timidly looking around in the exclusive London boutique Narcissa had brought her to. She didn't feel comfortable at all and feared that she sooner or later would manage to somehow damage one of the haute couture gowns that hung so neatly on silvery racks all around her. They were all beautiful, even Morgana had to admit that, and surely splutteringly expensive.

Narcissa, however, didn't bat an eyelid at the price tags. She was used to shopping in boutiques like this, used to spending more money on one gown than an average witch spent on clothes in a year. But unfortunately, she had been forced to dispense with this sort of pleasure since Lucius had been arrested. She still had gold to spend, that was not the problem, but shopping for expensive gowns seemed somewhat tasteless with one's husband in Azkaban. Today, however, Narcissa wasn't buying anything for herself.

'If we are to present you to society, Morgana, we need you to dress like a lady as well as act like one,' she had told the girl earlier that week when they'd had tea. And by Merlin, the girl needed proper attire. However, she looked as if she were about to Disapparate at any moment.

'Don't worry, Morgana,' Narcissa said, laying a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder. 'Once you try one of these on, you'll look and feel like a million Galleons. Trust me.'

'I bet some of those gowns cost a million Galleons as well,' Morgana brought forth between gritted teeth.

Narcissa gave a pearly laugh. 'Not quite that much, dear.'

She swept towards the closest rack and picked up a light blue gown. 'Now, this would look lovely on you,' she pointed out. 'It would really bring out your eyes and that lovely pale skin of yours.'

Morgana wrinkled her pretty little nose. Light blue? Wasn't it bad enough that Narcissa insisted on buying her a dress? Did she have to pick a colour so close to white as well? And, by Merlin, there were frills!

Narcissa looked highly disappointed. 'No? What don't you like about it?'

Morgana fought hard not to blurt out "everything". Narcissa meant well, Morgana well aware of that. Over the last couple of weeks, Narcissa had invited her to tea several times, even to dinner or lunch once or twice. She had been nothing but nice and adorable, and Morgana understood that the woman relished taking care of her, buying her little trinkets and spoiling her rotten. Now, she did not want to come across as ungrateful.

'It's a bit... girly,' she said diplomatically.

Once more, Narcissa laughed. 'That is the general idea, my dear. We need your gown to bring out your best feminine features. But alright, let us try and find something a little less dainty. Have a look around.'

Morgana, of course, made a bee line for the rack by the window, where she'd spotted a black satin gown.

'No black,' Narcissa said in a warning tone. 'Colour can really lift your complexion, Morgana. You wait and see. Now, is it satin you like?'

She picked up a deep purple one and held it up towards Morgana. 'Oh, now that is lovely.'

Morgana sighed in defeat. There was just no hope. Narcissa was determined to buy her a dress, whether she liked it or not. Best to smile and nod to at least get out of this boutique as soon as possible. And sure enough, Narcissa was already examining the next rack, scrutinising gown after gown, every now and then holding one up against Morgana.

'Now, this one...'

She picked up a midnight blue dress with long, wide sleeves and a bodice-style top that laced up all the way down the back.

'... is simply gorgeous!'

Even Morgana had to admit that it was a lovely dress. The colour was dark enough for her to feel comfortable with it, and she had always had a thing for laces.

'I will not take no for an answer this time, Morgana,' Narcissa pointed out firmly. 'I want you to try this on.'

She directed Morgana towards the fitting room.

'Let me know if you need a hand with the laces. Merlin knows they can be tricky.'

Morgana changed without even once looking into the mirror. She didn't want to wear a dress. She hadn't worn one since... well, since one of her trysts with Lucius and only because he had insisted on her wearing one. And now his wife had the same wish. Oh, if Cissy knew...

'How are you doing with those laces?' she heard Narcissa ask, and a moment later, the curtains were pulled back.

'Heavens, Morgana!' she exclaimed. 'You look truly lovely.'

Morgana ventured a glance into the mirror while Narcissa busied herself with lacing up the dress at the back. It was a magnificent piece of clothing, no doubt.

'Give me a twirl,' Narcissa suggested, taking a step backwards.

'A twirl?' Morgana inquired. 'Really?'

'Don't be shy.' Narcissa smiled and gave Morgana a soft push as to set her in motion.

And Morgana twirled, grudgingly. When a Malfoy says "jump", ask how high...

'Yes, I think we've found ourselves a dress,' Narcissa confirmed. 'Can you see how much the blue brings out your eyes? And the lovely red of your hair?'

Unconsciously, Morgana let her hand run over her short hair. She had let Tonks perform a Cutting Charm, and her hair was now just over half an inch long. She liked it that way. It saved her time in the morning, didn't get into her eyes...

'We'll take care of that when we get home,' Narcissa interrupted Morgana's musings. 'I know a great hair charm. And I am thinking a lovely pink shade for your cheeks and lips.'

Morgana spluttered. 'Dress, hair and make-up today? Excuse me, Narcissa, but did I miss something? I thought we'd have dinner at the Manor tonight.'

Narcissa smiled mysteriously. 'But we are, dear one. I just want you to feel like a lady. Trust me, by the time I've finished with you, you won't recognise yourself. You will be so beautiful, the wizarding elite will be unable to resist you. Now, chop, chop. Get changed. We have a lot to do.'

'Narcissa, please,' Morgana insisted. 'I hate surprises. Please, tell me you are not planning on presenting me to the Minister of Magic or something tonight.'

Narcissa smiled. 'Well, I was going to save it as a surprise, but yes, I have a guest coming for dinner that I would like you to meet.'

Morgana's eyes widened in shock. Narcissa had to be joking!

'Don't worry, dear. There is nothing to be nervous about,' Narcissa assured her.

Finally, Morgana found her tongue. 'Narcissa, sorry, but... Have you arranged a blind date?'

To that, Narcissa laughed out loud. 'Don't be silly, it's not a date. I will be dining with you.'

'You mean you will be chaperoning?' Morgana asked in a sour tone.

'Assisting with social niceties, making sure the conversation flows,' Narcissa clarified. 'It will be fun. Now, come on. We need to get going.'

Half an hour later, back at Malfoy Manor, Narcissa wasted no time in leading Morgana to her dressing room, where she instructed the girl to sit with her back towards the big gilded mirror. And dutifully, Morgana followed the older woman's order, yet secretly hoping a band of Death Eaters would invade the room or even the Dark Lord himself. Heck, she would even be happy to see Draco and his goonies. Anything to keep Narcissa from dolling her up.

'Curls, I think,' Narcissa murmured, running her slender fingers lightly through Morgana's hair. 'About shoulder-length.'

Morgana gave a tiny jerk with her head.

'You have to trust me, Morgana,' Narcissa said in a motherly tone. 'I know what I am doing.'

She drew her wand and spoke an incantation, and Morgana's hair started to grow, from messy, choppy shortness into shoulder-length, lustrous loose red curls.

Narcissa smiled like she was looking at her firstborn baby. 'Oh, yes. Exquisite.'

Morgana squirmed around for a mirror, but Narcissa had other plans.

'Ah, ah, ah! Not yet! Not until we're all done!'

Morgana sighed and plucked carefully at one of her new-grown locks. 'I haven't had hair that long since...' She grinned. 'Since the first Transfiguration lesson in my sixth year. McGonagall almost had a heart attack when I turned my hair short.'

'And with every right!' Narcissa pointed out. 'There should be a law against lovely girls like you mutilating their looks by having a haircut like a boy. Now, let's get you back into this dress.'

Once again, Narcissa assisted Morgana lacing up the back and then sat her back onto the chair, still with her back against the mirror.

'And now, a little make-up. Quite subtle, I think. Just enough to accentuate your eyes and your lovely cheekbones. And a soft pink for your lips.'

Once more, she waved her wand, and when she was done, Narcissa Malfoy, who always behaved like a lady, actually welled up.

'Oh my,' she breathed and put her hand on Morgana's shoulder to turn the girl towards the mirror. 'Look at yourself.'

Morgana scrutinised her reflection from top to toe. She didn't dislike what she saw, but she couldn't keep herself from squirming and fidgeting.

'I don't know...,' she started in a small voice.

'You are beautiful, Morgana Belakane,' Narcissa assured her. 'Don't you think?'

'It's just not... not me...'

'But it is you, dear,' Narcissa exclaimed, taking Morgana firmly by the shoulders and walking her closer to the mirror. 'This is the you that has been hiding under shapeless black robes and a boy's haircut. You saw how little I had to do to transform you into the true lady you are.'

Morgana fingered her hair, surprised at the softness of the curls.

'Are you glad you trusted me now?' Narcissa asked.

Morgana nodded and gave Narcissa a tiny smile. And the older woman smiled broadly, looking like a proud parent whose child had just taken its first step.

'Take time to admire yourself whilst I get dressed for dinner,' she said. 'And don't be nervous. The way you look, no one will care if you use the wrong fork for the main course.'

She swept out of the room, and Morgana lingered in front of the mirror, unable to take her eyes off her reflection. So that was what she looked like, she thought. That was the Morgana she had been trying to hide so desperately. She'd almost not recognised her.

She tucked a stray lock behind her ear and tilted her head, looking deep into her own eyes.

You're young, Morgana. Your whole life lies ahead of you and the world at your feet.

She frowned. Where that thought had come from, she did not really know. But the words rang clearly in her ears as if someone had given her a lecture about them. And they were true. She was young. And as much as she hated to admit it, she was a fetching witch who possessed all the attributes needed to charm a wizard. She had the looks; she had the brains. But first and foremost, she had an old family name. And that was what Narcissa was counting on.

'Are you ready, my dear?'

Narcissa re-entered the room, wearing a pale blue gown, her long blonde hair ornately braided with jewels. She looked like royalty.

'As ready as I'll ever be,' Morgana answered with a tiny smile. She still didn't feel comfortable, neither with her dress, her hair or the situation. But she'd give it a try. After all, this was not a date, and Narcissa would be there all the time.

'There is still something missing,' Narcissa said, but as Morgana cast a somewhat fearful look towards her reflection, she smiled. 'Don't worry, dearest. It's nothing you can see.'

She pulled a tiny crystal phial from the folds of her robes, which contained something that looked like molten gold.

'Felix Felicis?' Morgana asked with a frown.

Narcissa laughed. 'No, silly. I doubt you'll need liquid luck. But this perfume has almost the same qualities. I wore it during some of the happiest nights of my life.'

As Narcissa uncorked the tiny phial, Morgana's sensitive nose filled at once with the scent of May roses and jasmine, and as the scent settled, she also detected vanilla and sandalwood. It was a heavy scent, but it made her feel like a queen. And when she followed Narcissa out of the room and down the stairs, she was quite convinced that she'd be able to achieve anything she wanted that night.

* * *

The table in the dining room was set for three people. The wine was open and breathing, and there were candles lit all around the room, casting a warm, soft light.

'Now, I don't want you to be nervous,' Narcissa said in a kind tone as she took her seat at the head of the table, gesturing for Morgana to sit to her left. 'The wizard you are to meet is a very old friend of mine. And I have heard that you have already met him at least once.'

Morgana frowned, pondering who of all the wizards she knew would be an old friend of Narcissa Malfoy. She had never thought about what kind of people Narcissa associated with. Lucius had rubbed elbows with the richest of the rich, the most influential and important witches and wizards in the country. And Death Eaters, of course. Who did Narcissa count as friends? But before Morgana could ask, the door opened, and a wizened elf showed in a dashing tall man with long fair hair, dove grey robes, a dazzling smile and kind blue eyes.

'Grindling, darling!'

Darling? Morgana was so surprised by Narcissa using such an intimate address that she momentarily forgot her shock about Grindling Gibbons being the mystery guest. He was about the last wizard she had expected.

Narcissa stood and swept across the room where she kissed Grindling on both cheeks.

'Oh, I am so glad you could make it!'

'I hope I am not late,' Grindling replied, bowing low and kissing the hand of his hostess, holding on to it far longer than it was either necessary or polite. 'I... something came up.'

Morgana's eyes narrowed. Something came up, eh? Of course, it had! Grindling was supposed to be on a date with Charis! What the heck was he doing at Malfoy Manor, looking like a million Galleons?

'You look stunning,' Grindling complimented Narcissa in a slightly hoarse voice, and the lady of the manor smiled broadly, hiding her blushing cheeks from her male guest by turning towards Morgana.

'Now, I know that you two have met briefly, but having been introduced to each other by a mutual workmate in a café in Diagon Alley will not do for two purebloods like yourselves. So, let me do this properly: Grindling, darling, this is Morgana Belakane. My husband and I have sponsored her throughout Hogwarts. Morgana, this is Grindling Gibbons, Keeper of the Hall of Prophecies and an old and very dear friend of mine.'

Reluctantly, Grindling let go of Narcissa's hand and gentlemanly stepped forwards to take Morgana's instead.

'It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Belakane,' he said before he bowed, kissing her hand as well.

'The pleasure is all mine, Mr Gibbons,' Morgana replied, and she was not even lying. The man looked breathtaking! In many ways, he resembled Lucius, but he seemed much kinder, more honest...

'Who is for wine?' Narcissa asked and guided Grindling to his chair opposite Morgana. 'Grindling? It's a nice Châteauneuf-du-Pape.'

Grindling inclined his head as to accept Narcissa's offer, and the old elf shuffled forward at once to fill his glass.

'Miss Belakane?' Grindling enquired. He was well aware that it was not his task to offer wine. After all, it was Narcissa who was hosting this dinner, not him. But talking to Morgana gave him a legitimate reason to not look at Narcissa. Maybe, if he averted his eyes long enough, he would forget how stunning Narcissa looked or that she was wearing the perfume he had gifted her with all those years ago.

Morgana shook her head at Grindling's offer and replied with a 'No, thank you. I do not drink,' to which Narcissa smiled benignly.

'It is considered somewhat refined to have wine with one's meal, Morgana,' she explained.

She sounded ever so kind, but Morgana felt like a five year old who'd just been told to use a fork instead of eating with her fingers.

'You should not see wine as an alcoholic beverage,' Grindling added. 'See it as a supplement to the food. Which, I am sure, will be delicious.'

He chanced a smile at Cissy and then quickly brought his glass to his nose, inhaling deeply.

'Raspberries and plums,' he mumbled. 'Chocolate and lavender... You would enjoy this, Miss Belakane, I am most certain of it.' And taking the bottle from the surprised elf, he filled Morgana's glass before she could protest.

'I'd like to make a toast,' Narcissa announced once Grindling had filled her glass as well. 'As you both know, my family and I are going through some troubles at present. It is true to say that one certainly knows who their friends are in times of need.' She gave a hollow laugh. 'However, the Malfoys are nothing if not resilient. And so I would like to drink to new beginnings.'

'To new beginnings,' Grindling repeated and raised his glass, smiling encouragingly at Morgana, who had no other choice than to follow suit.

The starter was made up of dried figs, cheese and a nice creme di balsamico, and after Grindling had explained to Morgana how the sweetness of the figs, the saltiness of the cheese and the acidity of the vinegar were being accentuated by the wine, Narcissa took over the lead, asking questions and feeding the conversation, making sure that her two guests always had something to say to each other. And by the time the main course was served, Morgana had emptied almost two glasses of wine and the conversation had been steered towards Grindling's private life, much to his chagrin.

'Tell me, Grindling,' Narcissa started, 'Rumour has it that you are still the wizarding world's most eligible bachelor. Can you believe it, Morgana? That this handsome wizard has not found a mate yet?'

Grindling nearly choked on his wine, and Morgana gave him a cold look. She had given him the benefit of the doubt so far, but depending on how valid his answer was, she would hex him into the next week. She knew he was dating Charis. She knew they'd been out three times now, including today's date. If he denied it now... But Grindling didn't seem to be willing to give Narcissa an answer. Instead, he busied himself with refilling their glasses.

'I heard differently,' Morgana said instead of him, in a tone that made even the hair on her own neck stand up. 'There are rumours at the Ministry that you are currently dating, Mr Gibbons.'

'Is this true, Grindling?' Narcissa exclaimed, obviously shocked.

Grindling blushed and cast Morgana an imploring look. Narcissa mustn't know!

'I... um... I have taken a lady to dinner recently, yes. But... um... we are not... It's nothing serious.'

Morgana's look darkened. How dare he? How dare he say that what he and Charis had going was nothing serious?

Narcissa, on the other hand, beamed like the sun. 'Nothing serious? Well, that is good to hear. Grindling, darling, you are in luck. Morgana here, who, as you know, is descended from one of the oldest wizarding families in Britain, also happens to be single.'

Now it was Morgana's turn to almost spit her wine all over the table. Was Narcissa playing matchmaker?

'I am convinced Miss Belakane has many suitors,' Grindling tried to smooth over the situation. 'A young witch of her standards...'

And a lovely witch she was. The last time he had seen her, he had not noticed as she had looked pale and tired; her hair had been chopped short, and her robes had revealed nothing of her well-shaped body. But now her hair looked like molten lava in the candle light; her eyes were glittering like two precious gems, and her curves...

'You agree then that Morgana would be an excellent catch for any wizard?' Narcissa interrupted Grindling's thoughts.

'By all means.' Grindling shifted uncomfortably in his seat. What a predicament he was in! 'I am sure any wizard would be glad to...'

Once more, Narcissa talked over him. 'The alliance of the last of the Belakanes and the ancient and noble house of Gibbons would be a powerful union, don't you think, Grindling?'

Grindling gave an uncomfortable laugh. 'Cissy, dear, we have just met. I think it is a bit hasty to be talking about alliances and unions.'

'Darling Grindling, you were always such a romantic.' Narcissa smiled sweetly and patted Grindling's hand. 'A marriage can be more than hearts and flowers.'

'Cissy, I am begging you,' Grindling implored his hostess, resisting the urge to pull away his hand. 'Miss Belakane is... How old are you?' he asked, turning away from Narcissa's blue eyes and looking into Morgana's instead. 'Eighteen?'

Morgana nodded, too befuddled by the wine and too shocked by Narcissa's matchmaking plans to utter a single word.

'Cissy, I could be her father,' Grindling exclaimed, turning back towards his hostess.

'Morgana is of age.' Narcissa laughed. 'I know what you are thinking, Grindling. You want to be swept away by an orchestra with the wind through your hair on the top of a mountain. But that is not the way love works! I myself was betrothed to Lucius since before I started at Hogwarts. And we grew together, he and I. And now I love him with all my soul.'

Lucius. The name made Morgana snap out of her trance. What the hell was this? What was Narcissa playing at? Why was she trying so hard? What could she gain?

'You are both intelligent, single people from old bloodlines,' Narcissa carried on, looking first at Grindling, then at Morgana and then back at Grindling. 'It is your duty to ensure that purity of wizardkind continues. Love will follow, mark my words.'

'Would you like us to get started on that right away?' Morgana asked, her voice heavy with sarcasm. 'The continuation of the blood line, I mean. I'm sure the moon is in the right phase. We could have a baby by the end of June.'

'My dear Morgana!' Narcissa was beaming. She had obviously missed Morgana's sour tone. 'Nothing would make me happier than to see Grindling as your consort. But we don't want to rush things. Now, why don't you two get more acquainted before dessert while I just go and powder my nose...'

'I am truly sorry, Morgana,' Grindling burst out the moment Narcissa had closed the door behind her. 'I had no idea...'

'No idea the woman Narcissa was going to set you up with would turn out to be Charis' best friend?' Morgana hissed. 'What did you do to her anyway? Did you ditch her so you could come here? Muggle-style date not good enough for you, is it, Mr Gibbons?'

'Don't be ridiculous! Charis and I had a lunch date. And I'd already accepted Cissy's dinner invitation weeks ago.' He closed his hand tightly around his napkin, looking deeply offended. 'I would never do anything to hurt Charis,' he added firmly. 'Never. She means a lot to me.'

'Then you better tell your dear Cissy that you are already involved with someone,' Morgana suggested. Her voice was considerably softer now. She had been angry with Grindling at first and thought that he had known about Narcissa's schemes. But then she had seen his eyes when she had accused him of having deceived Charis. He had looked crestfallen, truly hurt, and her heart had gone out to him.

'I can't tell Cissy I'm dating Charis. You understand that, don't you?' Grindling swallowed hard. 'You've seen how obsessive she is about blood status,' he added quickly. 'If I mention Charis, it might put her at risk. And I am not prepared to do that.'

He looked pleadingly at Morgana, who inhaled sharply. Charis' blood status had already caused the Ravenclaw enough trouble. It had almost cost her life. And the one who had almost killed her had been no other than Narcissa's own sister.

'You have to tell Narcissa something,' Morgana insisted. 'Tell her you prefer blondes.'

Grindling flinched. 'This isn't going to be easy, Morgana,' he pointed out. 'You have seen how persuasive Cissy can be. She won't take no for an answer.' He paused and then smiled compassionately. 'I am presuming your new look was her influence, too?'

Morgana couldn't help but blush. 'The woman's like a trampling herd of Hippogriffs,' she muttered and discontentedly plucked at her dress. 'Won't take no for an answer.'

'Do not get me wrong,' Grindling said softly. 'You look enchanting. But something tells me it was not your idea to charm your hair and wear a dress for dinner.'

Enchanting? Morgana felt a little warmth deep inside herself. Grindling had noticed, and he liked what he saw. But she had never been good at accepting compliments.

'What?' she asked in a sarky tone. 'Don't you think I like being prettied up and then thrust in the arms of the first available wizard?'

'By the look on your face during the starter, I would hazard a guess and say no.'

Morgana gave a little laugh, and Grindling smiled a gentle smile before topping up her glass.

'I am sorry, Morgana,' he said once more, gingerly patting her hand. 'I like this as little as you do. But I can't see how to get out of it right now. I fear for tonight, we will have to play along.'

The door opened, and Morgana quickly withdrew her hand, thereby nearly knocking over her wine glass.

'Ah, I see you've been getting along nicely.' Narcissa looked positively delighted. 'Very good. And now it's time for dessert. I am sure you will love it. It's rather... special.'

She clapped her hands and into the room came the ancient elf, carrying three glasses of white wine, and behind it walked a younger elf, carrying a tray with three pudding dishes filled with white...

Morgana paled with shock.

'The Malfoy gu,' Narcissa explained, 'is the stuff of legend. It is passion personified in pudding. My dears, if the moon isn't shining a little brighter in your eyes after this, then you are as dead from the waist down as Hel herself. Bon appetit!'

Morgana made a dive for the wine. There was no way she was going to touch the gu! She knew what that pudding could do! Grindling, however, was blissfully ignorant.

'Sweet Circe, this is amazing!' he exclaimed after the first spoon, and Narcissa smiled ever so smugly.

The second spoonful elicited a tiny moan from Grindling, and Narcissa directed her focus onto Morgana, hoping Grindling would follow her gaze. She needed him to look at the girl.

'Come now, eat up. I know you have a secret sweet tooth. And every girl likes chocolate.'

Morgana felt like crying, and her hand was shaking badly when she brought the first spoon to her mouth. She was terrified what the gu would do to her, but under Narcissa's watchful gaze, she had no other choice than to eat.

The reaction was instantaneous. Her breathing quickened; she felt hot and bothered; and her mind was flooded with memories of her being spoon fed by Lucius, of her sitting in his lap, moaning into his mouth as he slid deep inside her...

'Whatever have you put in this, Cissy?' Grindling groaned, uncomfortably crossing and uncrossing his legs. He, too, felt the magic of the gu.

'Oh, it's nothing illegal, I assure you,' Narcissa chirped, pretending to eat some of the gu herself. But the spoon she was using was charmed, and by the time it reached her mouth, it was always empty.

It was the most agonising dessert Morgana had ever sat through, and by the time the elves removed the empty dishes, she found herself quivering and squirming in her seat. And she did not dare look at Grindling whose eyes she felt boring into her hairline. If the gu had a similar effect on him, if he looked at her with even the slightest trace of desire in his eyes, she would not know what to do.

'Is it just me, or is it a little warm in here?' Narcissa asked in a cheerful voice. 'Why don't we retire to the balcony? It's been such a sunny day. I'm sure it's lovely out there.'

Morgana got up from her chair so quickly that it almost fell over. But she did not care. She just wanted to get outside, into the fresh air, away from Grindling's gaze. But her plans were thwarted by their hostess, who guided Grindling towards her young guest ever so smoothly. And as the gentleman that he was, Grindling took Morgana's arm and walked her outside, where they were greeted by gentle light and soft music.

'I thought maybe you'd like a little dance,' Cissy suggested innocently and lingered by the door. 'It's such a lovely evening, after all.'

Dutifully, Grindling immediately bowed and offered Morgana his hand.

'I hate dancing,' she protested, loud enough for Narcissa to hear and make the older woman frown disapprovingly. The girl was still terribly uncouth. They would have to work on her manners.

'If we don't dance, Morgana,' Grindling whispered, turning his back towards Narcissa so she wouldn't hear, 'Cissy will put a Permanent Sticking Charm on us.'

He pulled her towards him, gently but firmly, and Morgana shuddered as he placed his hand on the small of her back. It had been so long since she had been that close to a man. And now she was under the influence of both gu and wine, and Grindling smelled of musk and dark chocolate. And the bulge between his legs...

Grindling cleared his throat and held Morgana a few inches further away from him, noticing the same thing as she had.

'I am truly... mortified. That gu...'

Morgana forced herself to smile kindly. 'Don't apologise. I know that pudding. I know what it does to people. I can feel it, too.'

They began to sway together, slowly and gently, and soon they forgot about the awkwardness between them. They forgot about the gu, about Narcissa and Narcissa's plans...

'You suit those curls,' Grindling murmured after a while. 'Your hair is so vibrant, like flaming coals... Why on earth do you choose to wear it short?'

So nice guys like you won't notice me, Morgana thought, feeling tears sting her eyes. She didn't deserve nice guys like Grindling noticing her.

'It's a shame,' Grindling whispered. 'And that dress... You look adorable.'

Morgana squirmed. 'Grindling, please,' she started, finding her throat far too tight to speak properly. 'Don't say such things to me. Don't be nice to me.'

'Would you rather I said that your dress is like a dishrag and you look like you've been dragged through a hedge?' Grindling asked in a puzzled tone.

'I'd rather you said nothing at all.'

'As you wish, Morgana.'

Grindling did not understand. Morgana was indeed a charming young witch, and he would find her attractive even without being under the influence of the gu. But she seemed shamed by his compliments, terrified by his touch. Whatever had made this young witch so afraid of affection?

Carefully, he pulled her closer so her head came to rest on his shoulder, and he rested his own face against her. She stiffened at first, but Grindling held her close, hoping she would relax eventually. His nose filled with her intoxicating scent, and he closed his eyes, inhaling the familiar smell of jasmine and roses.

Morgana felt her heartbeat falter and treacherous tears welled up in her eyes. Being held by Grindling felt wonderful. His arms were strong; he smelled so nice, and she had not felt this safe in months. But it was wrong, so terribly wrong. Grindling belonged to Charis. Charis was in love with him, and surely, he was in love with Charis. He was only under the influence of the gu and the wine right now, just like herself.

As she felt his hand stroking her back, Morgana gasped.

'Grindling...'

'Hm?'

His face was buried in her hair now, and she could feel his lips on her hairline.

'You should... let go of me now...'

'What is it, Morgana?' he whispered and cupped her face as she tried to wriggle free from his embrace. 'Have I done something to upset you?'

Morgana gave a tiny shake of the head, biting her lip so hard that she could taste her own blood in her mouth.

'To use a clichéd phrase,' she said, 'it's not you, it's me.'

There were tears in her eyes now, and as they moved closer to each other, Grindling felt so unspeakably sorry for the young witch who was trembling in his arms. And he leant forward, and she got onto her toes as he tightened her grip around her.

And in the shadows, Narcissa Malfoy smiled triumphantly.