Smile Like You Mean It

Chapter 36 - A Deceitful Affair


She had run the brush so often through her hair that it now glided down her locks without hindrance. There were no knots left, hardly even a kink. Aera gazed at her reflection, considering her options. She wanted to completely transform her look, make herself unrecognisable. The Masquerade was due to start in just over an hour and she was in no rush. She had no intention of being early, or even one of the first to arrive. She wanted to leave it until the Great Hall was brimming with people so that she could slide in unannounced and relatively unnoticed.

Large brown eyes stared back at her. A glamour charm would only change their colour for a short while and she would have to concentrate to maintain even that. So, the eyes would remain the same. She put the brush down and ran her hands through her hair. That part of her appearance wouldn’t be so difficult. She couldn’t bring herself to change the colour, however, not when the black went so well with her outfit.

Letting magic flow into her fingertips, she twisted her fingers through the strands. Closing her eyes she pictured the changes, directing the transfigurations with magic. Opening her eyes she smiled, pleased.

Her hair was longer, flowing in cascading waves down across her shoulders and to the centre of her back. It was a stark difference to her usual straight sheet which was difficult to coax into any semblance of style. This was the mane of a woman who prided herself on her beauty and allowed her hair to mirror her character.

She shied away from the idea of make-up. It was a fad among the school-girls, a muggle implement that replaced the normal techniques done with magic. People would expect everyone to be using it to disguise their appearance. She would remain natural, her mask covering most of her face anyway.

Standing up she moved to the chest where her outfit lay hidden. She had not dared to open it since placing it there. It was too easy for someone to come in and see it. Tonight she would be completely disguised, with not a soul to recognise her.

The thrill of going among the other students utterly anonymous was sending excited flushes through her body. For the first time she would be free from suspicion, deceiving her friends no more than everyone else. She would be faceless, unknown. And free to dance with whomever she pleased.

That last part made her smile broadly. She would have to find him, of course, for Draco had no more idea of what she would look like tonight than she would him. They could dance together for hours, hold each other close with no fear of discovery. Warmth suffused her cheeks as she realised where her thoughts were headed and she hastily pushed it all from her mind. The anticipation called to her but she held it at bay. There would be plenty of time later to enjoy the moment, for now she had to get ready.

Grasping the dress by the shoulders she pulled it out with a flourish. It rippled as though touched by a breeze, the dark colours shifting and shimmering. Aera smiled to herself, excitement swelling in her chest once more. This was going to be so much fun!


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Aera took a deep breath, preparing herself for the final flight of stairs that would bring her down to the bustling Entrance Hall. She could hear music and people talking with animation as they made their way into the Great Hall. The staircase she stood upon was deserted for the time being, hidden from the view of those in the hall by a corner of stone.

Aera hesitantly smoothed her dress over her hips. She was suddenly nervous. It sounded as if the whole school were gathered in the hall, which was more than likely. She squared her shoulders, shaking her hair back with a determined toss of her head and daintily took the first step down.


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Blaise shifted his weight onto his left foot, easing the sword at his hip. His outfit was not one that would stand out amongst the myriad of costumes on display that night. He had based himself on King Arthur, though he was unsure of his reasons. Perhaps it was that history told of Arthur’s love for his wife, Guinevere, who had in turn loved his friend. He shook his head to rid himself of the gloomy thoughts. His mask was simple, carved to look somewhat like a visor of a helmet, with a man’s face visible underneath. The idea of a ball was idiotic to him anyway. Surely the normal Halloween Feast would have sufficed.

Medusa glided past him, her snake-hair darting out from her head as if they really were alive. An impressive piece of magic, that. Whoever was under the mythical creature’s mask had put a lot of work into their costume. Though they would have little chance of finding a dancing partner who would be willing to get close to that wig of twisting serpents. His eyes travelled over the crowd. There were cupids, angels, vampires, werewolves, Satan strode arrogantly through the great double doors. He spotted Robin Hood with Maid Marion on his arms, even the Founders of Hogwarts were out tonight. Rowena Ravenclaw with her diadem perched high on a beehive-style hairdo. He sighed and turned away from them all. The girl he sought would not have dressed in something so plain.

He looked up towards the stairs and his breath caught. A woman glided down the steps, back straight, chin lifted in confidence. Her dress, an exquisite masterpiece of shifting fabric, clung to the curves of her upper body. His eyes traced the low cut of the bodice which revealed the tantalising swell of her breasts. Black hair hung in waves about a masked face. He gazed up at her, noting the detailed artistry of it. Then the eyes behind the visage locked on his, deep brown and enchanting, he would know them anywhere.

Aera.

She glanced away without change of expression and he felt a bitter surge of hurt until he remembered his own costume. Her dismissal not been personal. She had not recognised him.

Blaise stepped forward before he realised it, making a bee-line towards the stairs, reaching her just as she alighted from the last step. She was graceful, relaxed, beauty incarnate. He smiled behind his mask as his heels clicked together and he gave a low bow, skilfully handling the sword hilt to ensure it did not get snagged on his cloak. As his eyes met hers once more, she smiled uncertainly.

“Draco?” she whispered.

Blaise felt a cold hand grip his heart as he realised who it truly was she was searching for. He opened his mouth to correct her, to laugh off her mistake. Then he stopped. A terrifying plan had opened up in his mind. Terrifying because it went against his morals, it would endanger his friendship.

It would give him Aera.

Just this once. I promised myself that kiss would be the last, but just tonight. After that I will walk away. But tonight, let me have her.

He reached out and took her hand, lifting it to his lips. He made his voice deeper, changing it subtly so that it would not be recognised as his own. “Not tonight. Tonight I am King Arthur and you are my queen.”

She smiled. “Queen Mab at your service, Sire.”


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Aera looked at the man beside her from the corner of her eye. She had not expected Draco to appear as King Arthur. However she couldn’t quite picture him as a cupid or one of the other bizarre creatures wandering about. He held her hand in his, gently stroking the skin with his thumb. She marvelled at how composed he seemed. Her insides were twisted with nerves, walking amongst their school friends so openly. Though she doubted whether anyone there would ever guess at it being Draco under that mask. She had to admit, he had made quite an effort. His skin was darker, as was his hair. Though nearly any colour would be darker than his usual platinum waves. She focused on the knots in her shoulder, forcing them to relax. She was here to enjoy her evening with him, not worry about what wouldn’t come.

He led her into the Great Hall, which was decorated in Hogwarts’ usual fashion. Pumpkin lanterns hovered above, replacing the candles. Bats swept past, accompanied by the castle’s residing ghosts. The tables had been moved to the walls, leaving a large open space where people were dancing in couples. She saw Dumbledore, dressed up as Viking god, his white beard matted and strung with beads. A battle axe hung at his waist. A smile touched her lips at the sight. A Viking helmet suited him, in a strange way.

The song that had been playing ended and couples began to drift away from the cleared space, replaced by new dancers. As the music swelled once more, King Arthur spun Aera around by her hand, positioning himself so he faced her. One hand went to her waist, the other gently grasped her own hand. Then they were dancing.

His fluid movements kept Aera from making mistakes, following his lead as they swept gracefully across the floor. She caught a glimpse of Casanova and Hercules, the latter betrayed by a lightning scar across his forehead. They were deep in conversation with Cleopatra and Venus. She grinned, grateful for her disguise.

Her attention focused once more on her partner, his mask still firmly in place. It covered a large portion of his face, giving no clue to the man underneath. His eyes, however, were fixed on her, intense and hungry. She wondered idly whether his concentration would falter even once during the night, allowing her a sight of his crystal grey eyes. A glamour charm needed constant focus.

The song drifted seamlessly into something slower, a captivating melody that spoke to the soul, the sense of holding someone close, cherishing their presence. King Arthur pulled her closer, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as his hands came to rest on her back.

Her head tilted back to meet his gaze. The hunger had grown, she could feel the way his touch shifted from friendly embrace to sensual caress. One hand drifted lower, pressing her closer.

Aera pulled back, noting the warning look from Professor McGonagle, or rather Minerva, Goddess of Wisdom. She touched a hand to King Arthur’s cheek as she saw hurt flash though his eyes. “Not here. Come on.”

He followed her unquestioningly as she led the way out of the hall. It was early enough in the evening that people were still arriving, hampering their way as Romeos, wood nymphs and pirates bustled to get into the hall. Surprisingly, it was her they moved for, stepping out of her way with an admiring glance. She suspected the outfit she wore had more than a little to do with that. It was one of a kind.

Once free from the crowd, she deliberated between the castle or the grounds. There was a chill night breeze coming from the open doors, but students were milling around in the corridors, taking a breather from the dancing and teachers overseeing the ball’s proceedings. Still holding her king’s hand, she changed direction and headed out to the grounds.

Dumbledore had put in effort even here. Tiny fairies, illuminated by their own natural glow, flitted between the trees, casting an ethereal glow. The moon was full, adding its own milky light. Here and there shapes moved between the shadows of the trees, teachers patrolling or students meeting in arduous rendezvous. It was hard to tell.

Together she and King Arthur made their way to the willow tree down near the lake where she had so recently been attacked by Lucius Malfoy. It seemed odd that she now visited the place with the man’s son.

They stepped under the sweeping boughs, effectively hidden from those wandering past. In the dim light someone would have to look closely to see them. Aera smiled. Excitement beat like a drum inside her. She was aware of fairies drifting into the tree above them, having sensed their presence. It was illuminating them standing there. She sighed, opening her mouth to suggest finding somewhere else. If a teacher walked past they would be sure to wonder why so many of the fairies had chosen this outlying spot to congregate. She wanted to remain undisturbed.

Before she could talk, however, King Arthur raised his wand. “Nox.”

High-pitched, faint squeals of indignation sounded above them as the light of the fairies went out. They were cast into darkness, the sound of miniature wings rustling above them as the tiny beings flew away, back towards the castle. Aera, her eyes having been accustomed to the dim light, felt a prickle of fear. She was completely blind now, the moonlight blocked by the dense leaves of the willow. Just as she was about to voice her fears, a hand wrapped around her waist, securing her to a hard, lean body.

Lips touched hers, softly at first, then increasing in strength. She arched back, feeling the muscle in the chest against her. Her fingers wrapped into the fabric of his tunic, steadying herself as he gently pushed her back until she was pressed against the large trunk of the willow. Hands roamed over her body, touching, caressing. The loose shoulder-straps of her gown slipped slightly, causing the neckline of her gown to dip precariously. Warm, rough lips left her, travelling down her neck to press gentle kisses along her collar-bone.

Aera let out a soft sigh, pulling him closer. There was something strange about the way he touched her. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It was as if this was new to him, as if he had never held her this close. Her mind turned the thought over in her head till she banished it out of irritation. This was what she wanted, and she didn’t want her over-active imagination to spoil the moment by over-analysing.

A hand grasped her leg in passion-fuelled want, pulling it up. She complied, lifting her leg, trusting him to support her. He hooked it over his hip, tracing the bare skin of her thigh as the material of her dress slid back. Goosebumps rose in the cool night air, sensitive to the feather-light brushes of his fingertips. She shivered and felt him tighten his hold on her.

She could feel his arousal pressing between her legs, his lust causing a deep ache inside her. It felt wanton and daring to be there, in such a compromising position with a man who’s touch made her want to tear his clothes from his back. She realised she was quite close to doing just that, her fingers digging into the cloth as he pressed against her with more force. The heat from his desire was mirrored in herself. She arched back against him, unable to contain the throaty gasp as he bit gently at the hollow of her throat.

All of a sudden, he was pulling back. She stared at him in confusion as he unhooked her leg from around him, stepping back to hold her at arm’s length. Her eyes, now adjusted, could make out the line of his face, now unmasked. His disguise lay a few feet behind, discarded. Yet the darkness hid him just as well. She wanted to ask why he had pulled away, but couldn’t find the words. Her breasts heaved with laboured breath, the desire for him to touch her no less urgent.

She heard a low, sad laugh. “I want to remember you this way, Aera. Beautiful, wild.” He let go and she watched as he stepped further away, bending to retrieve his mask from the mossy floor. “But I can’t do this. Not now, not like this.”

And then he was gone.

Realisation rolled over her at the same time as the pain of rejection. She reached up and straightened her mask which had been knocked crooked during the passionate kisses. Her dress received a sharp tug to pull it back into place. She worked back over what he had said and felt the rejection lessen a little. Perhaps he had been unwilling to get carried away because he wanted to experience some of their trysts in an actual bed. It seemed somewhat implausible, yet it was the best she could conjure up.

Sighing to herself in frustration, fighting back the ache that remained unsatisfied in her middle, she stepped out from under the willow tree and set her feet along the path that led to the distant lights of the castle. Draco had a lot to answer for, leaving her there.


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Blaise watched Aera return to the castle, his throat constricting with grief and guilt. That moment, when he had realised just how carried away he was, had almost caused him to reveal himself to her. And she would never have forgiven him. Neither would Draco, come to think of it.

His lips burned from where they had touched her. He could still taste her, smell her. It was a fight to remain where he was, to not chase after her, pull her around, kiss her with the unrelenting lust he felt. He could imagine it, pushing her to the ground, her long legs wrapping about his waist as he pushed the fabric of her skirt out of the way, loosed himself from the confines of his trousers and slipped inside her . . .

He turned away bitterly from the sight of her disappearing figure. It could never be. Indulging in erotic fantasies about her would be as close as he ever got. He could have had her tonight, and paid for it for the rest of his life.

Pain blossomed in his hand and he looked down in amazement as dark blood seeped from his knuckles. He had slammed his fist against the jagged trunk of a tree. His eyebrows climbed into his hairline. He had never, ever lashed out without thought. The absurdity of it all made him bark out a low laugh as he wiped the blood onto his tunic. He had done little more than scrape himself.

He waited until Aera had completely vanished from view, then made his way back towards the castle, walking slowly. His knuckles stung in the cold air, but no more than his heart did.


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Oh boy! There you go people! For anyone who was hoping for Blaise and Aera action, I hope that satisfies. (Big grin!)

But don’t worry all you Draco lovers, he’ll be back next chapter . . . With a vengeance!

xxxxx Aera