Birthday Present

\'Well it can\'t be as exciting as Quidditch World Cup of course but it might be interesting for you as I suppose you haven\'t seen any magical ones yet.\' said the note Harry got from Ron the day before.

\'Though\' Harry thought, \'I haven\'t seen any Muggle ones either. And why would I want to anyway?\'

The Dursleys never bothered themselves with such a thing and Harry sniggered thinking of what Dudley would say if Aunt Petunia tried to trick him into it. The greatest cultural achievement of his cousin was not exceeding 3 levels on any of his PlayStation games. Besides, a cross-breed of a rhino and a bulldog such as Dudley along with his not much smaller father could only try and squeeze in by magic and that was certainly out of the question. Even though it could have become a perfect opportunity for Aunt Petunia to move in higher circles.

\'I wonder what would she say seeing me here?\'

But the thought vanished from Harry\'s head even quicker than appeared. He had so much more to think about.

He still had a lot to learn and a lot to see in the wizarding world and he was pretty sure that all of his years at Hogwawoulwouldn\'t be enough to catch up with those of his mates who had grown up within the magic with everything they had experienced. There will always be something new for him. So any opportunity to take one more step in was good enough to cling to. That was the main reason he had agreed. That and maybe an amazing blue piece of parchment, with silver-embroidered letters where two witches in the picture were talking enthusiastically about something tragical but \'terribly romantic\'

\'Since when did Ron become so sentimental? This could have been a perfect date. Why on earth didn\'t he invite Hermione instead?\'

It was the first theatrical play Harry was about to see in his life. And Ron, who pushed him into this was close to missing the whole thing being almost hopelessly late.

\'I wonder what could have taken him so long. He couldn\'t have forgotten or anything, the tickets must be really expensive.\'

That could be nothing but true. Harry was sitting in the second best box in the theatre and the prime seats in the central one were right to his left. He nevertheless concluded this all was again due to Mr. Weasley\'s connections in the Ministry for as much as Harry loved them, the Weasleys would never be able to afford such a thing themselves.

\'Probably Mrs. Weasley thought I would enjoy it more than any of them. Bless her, she never cared for me less than for her own family.\'

Ron was definitely lucky whatsoever for the performance was for some reason delayed too. They were obviously waiting for someone to arrive and that someone had to be really important. The central box was revealing several empty seats.

\'Though Ron is hardly as much looking forward to it as I am but it\'s not a reason to make me wait.\'

Harry regretted deeply that Ron was not there yet. He was looking around so intently that his head seemed to be going in circles. But this dizziness was worth it.

The house was sold out for the play. The admirably chatting crowd was bustling underneath and people in the boxes on the same level with him were obviously the most respectable wizards and witches. Harry thanked God he didn\'t wear any of Dudley\'s old sweaters but his school robes were also looking unappropriate up where he was placed. He would have felt much more at home down there with the rest, not so lordly and proud, but he had to admit that the view of the stage was perfect from above.

Harry had no idea whether all the theatres were constructed the same but this one was undoubtly magical. The auditorium was of unbelievable size and an amazingly long line of boxes was placed right along its edges. But though Harry was sitting almost at the farthest from the stage end it felt as though he was no more than 30 feet from the drop-curtain, which presented a complete miracle.

It looked like a solid wall of trees, the front of the most magnificent forest you could imagine. The leafage was dazzlingly bright under the sun and stained with what Harry mistook for flowers. He could not understand at first why those different colorful spots were moving and recognized them for what they were when they started singing - birds, birds of every possible size, color and type were adding their humming to the voices of the audience. The picture was so convincing by volume that Harry had been thinking that was the stage itself presenting the place of action. Notil til the brim of the forest was raised slightly he learnt that he was looking at the flat curtain only.

A black-haired witch was peering out of the last tree on the right, her eyes searching the boxes. Her expression suddenly relaxed and with an excited smile she disappeared. The guests had arrived to the central box.

As Harry turned his head at it half smiling too, almost confident that he would be looking at the Minister for Magic himself, he felt as if his stomach was glued to the backbone. The hot waves of joy and anticipation were switched to the freezing torential rains. He was staring into the cold face of Lucius Malfoy\'s.

That one indeed was perfectly appropriate in that central and best box. Dressed up to the nines, tall, fit and, what Harry admitted most reluctantly, annoyingly handsome. His one hand lay conveniently on the shoulder of his smaller copy, Harry\'s \'favorite\' boy Draco, and the other was leading a lady in deep-red dressing gown. They truly were a perfect trio, all wearing the same smug expression on their faces, enjoying the rustle of murmurs their splendid appearance provoked.

Draco turned his head, saw Harry and got a little paler, eyed his robes and regaining his color smirked. Narcissa (Harry had no doubt it was her, though having seen her only once before) pretended that no one else existed but her so Harry\'s presence went unnoticed in her case. Harry stared at Lucius again, met his eyes and froze. He was greeted with a welcoming and content smile and still something that made him doubt his vision even more.

\'Lucius Malfoy has just winked at me.\'

As soon as the Malfoy\'s settled themselves down (Narcissa, Draco and then Lucius, their box being closer to Harry\'s then he would have enjoyed) it became more than obvious they had been the ones waited for. The lights went out and the birds flew from the curtain into different directions, disappearing with a slight pop every time one of them touched the spectators. The show began.

*
If Harry needed a spoil-sport for the occasion he couldn\'t have asked for a better one than that sitting several feet away from him. He was absolutely nonplussed with their arrival and what was most irritating the idea that he had started imagining things (what more could that winking be than a twist of Harry\'s mind?).

He lost all interest in the performance. No decorations that changed magically every time the action took a different angle, no costumes, no tricks could impress him any more. He unconsiously kcastcasting sideway glances on Mr. Malfoy and was thumped to realizing it when the mentioned mister clicking his right hand to attract Harry\'s attention pointed his finger to the stage thus clearly indicating that Harry was looking not where he was supposed to.

Totally ashamed Harry turned to where he was directed and goggled with unabated attention but nonseeing, biting his lip and occasionally messing his hair. With his already burning skin he failed to notice the constant stare he was now granted with.

The sound of applause that indicated the interval brought Harry back to earth. And to his immense relief he discovered that Lucius Malfoy was gone. The central box was only occupied by Narcissa, whose expression seemed to remain unchanged throughout the whole play and Draco who was genuinly interested in the upholstery in front of him.
\'I wonder does he enjoy sitting here? it ain\'t likely at all. Well who would blame him? Er, did I enjoy it myself though?\'

And admitting that he obviously didn\'t, but resolute to make up for it during the second part, Harry left the box.

\'I am not going to miss this opportunity because of a Malfoy! I don\'t even remember anything but the curtain! I am going to the loo and then concentrating hard on the play. And where the fuck is Ron???\'.
His face definitely needed cold washing.

*
Harry was too deep in thoughts to hear a strange click at the door or to notice that the whole bathroom had been silent for a while now. He turned around, evidently intending to zip his trousers and jerked back to the wall under the gaze of none other than notorious Lucius Malfoy himself. The wizard was leaning casually against the partition, his hands folded. And though his smirk was indeed adjusted to look nice for a change Harry could not decide what was colder the tile of the lavatory or the steel in Malfoy\'s eyes.

\'Enjoying your evening out, Mr. Potter?\'

\'And what the fuck is that of your business, Mr. Malfoy?

\'It is indeed nice to see you too, Harry. I am very sorry to bother you...\'

\'Of course you are not\'

\'... but if you behave\' the steel becoming almost palpable in his voice \'then sooner or later this will be over to our mutual understanding ... and I hope pleasure.\'

Harry did not feel like standing in (now that he noticed it) an absolutely deserted bathroom face to face (\'or tet-a-tet? brrr\') with somebody emanating such an obvious threat.

(\'Was it not enough for you to ruin the first part of my being here? though that\'s stupid of me to think it was. Malfoys never leave their matters unfinished, not that I plan to wait and see what he is up to.\')
And though Harry was far from finding Lucius Malfoy intimidating any more, he still made him uncomfortable.

(\'Maybe I do feel his superiority now, here dressed in my school robes and... shit!.. how was I supposed to remember zipping up under that stare?! and he is in his perfectly matching clothes...\')

Harry, not sure what confused him more - the admittance that Lucius Malfoy looked damn good at the moment or the fact that his pants were lower on his hips than it was decent-looking, but he obviously was not able to think clearly for a moment or two otherwise he would have thought twice. Or maybe Mr. Malfoy\'s confidence was so unnervingly influencing? One way or another, Harry with \'I think I\'d better be going\' darted to break free out of Malfoy\'s reach. And was immediately punished for the first (but not the last) mistake, which he himself pointed out as a beginning to his misfortune. He was caught up, cornered and pressed hard against the wall.

\'I am not through with you, Mr. Potter\'