The Sorcerer’s Legacy

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and works; all other characters and worlds belong to their respective owners. I'm just playing with them.

Betad by Priapus, Malcolm Tent, Marethyu, Mike God of Lore, Beans, Old man of the mountain

The Sorcerer's Legacy

Chapter 08: Dance the Night Away

– Narcissa Malfoy –

She'd been watching the Raums closely ever since Grayson had demonstrated his power over Yennefer, of all people. Morrigan was exactly what she'd heard: a very powerful young woman but highly unsociable and dangerous. She reminded Narcissa of Bellatrix, and that was enough for her not to want to deal with her eldest niece. One Bellatrix was enough. She wasn't surprised when Morrigan had excused herself, but she was surprised that Morrigan had looked to Grayson for permission.

Damian was also what she'd heard. A reckless, cocky playboy. He'd spent the night flirting with anyone who came too close and generally making a fool of himself. She wondered if he was doing it on purpose to show that Grayson was the better candidate because his antics showed off how unfit he was for Lordship even to the more progressive families who had placed their hopes on him. Perhaps she was giving him too much credit, but she swore she saw a hint of cunning behind his carefree gaze. He very carefully avoided truly offending anyone while also making a fool of himself, though it may also have helped that Yennefer was lingering around him, clearly knowing which of her children was most likely to cause a scene.

She knew several spare daughters who didn't have a Ladyship in their future and were considering Damian as a prime candidate for a husband; he had a very good lineage, was powerful and was surprisingly intelligent for someone so carefree. She wished them luck in tying him down because he reminded her of a more carefree Geralt in many ways, and Geralt had been very much a free spirit before Yennefer had gotten her claws into him. She suspected he'd eventually knock up someone too important to brush away and get forced to marry them by his mother, assuming she wasn't drugging him with contraceptive potions.

Keira was perhaps her favourite, if only because she reminded Narcissa so much of herself. She was a social butterfly, surrounded by friends who all clearly looked to her as their leader. She was smart, beautiful and seemed very loyal to both her family in general and especially to her younger brother whom she doted on. It was a shame that Lyra had decided to be so argumentative with her cousins, short-sighted as she was, because Keira could have been a good influence on her.

But the truly interesting one was the man of the hour, Grayson himself. She'd never thought much of him after hearing of his condition, but that had been a mistake. She'd let Lyra's pettiness colour her image of him, underestimating him. She knew he was intelligent, one of the top students in his year, but she was still surprised at how politically adept he was. 

She hadn't thought Yennefer would spend too long training him on such matters, given that he seemed unlikely to become the Lord of his family, but he'd clearly been trained very well. This meant Yennefer had planned for him to become the next head of the family for a long time; even now, he was easily handling Minister Fudge (not that dealing with Fudge was particularly difficult).

But the main thing that interested her was the fact that the entire family seemed to look to him for leadership, even Yennefer. Yennefer was a very prideful woman, but Grayson had already proven that he had some influence over her, so how?

The only thing that made sense to her was the idea that Grayson had some kind of leverage over his mother. He knew something, and he was using it to keep Yennefer in line. She had no idea what that was, but it was clearly effective. She'd seen Yennefer deferring to him several times, and she never seemed thrilled about it. Maybe Yennefer had taught him a little too well, but this represented an opportunity for her. What could he possibly have on her that even someone as prideful and stubborn as Yennefer would fold? 

She didn't know, but she was very interested. If Grayson could rein her in, then he could be an extremely valuable ally. The fact that Lyra didn't like him, and she suspected that her daughter had spent her time in Hogwarts alienating her cousins, made her mentally scowl. Had Lyra not listened to any of her lessons?

Ideally, she wanted Lyra to become the next Lady Black by marrying Grayson. Their status as cousins wasn't close enough to be a problem, and it would allow her to fulfil her long-held wish of becoming Lady Black by proxy. That said, Lyra may have already ruined that, but it wasn't the end of the world. If Lyra became his mistress instead, their child could have a good chance of becoming the next Lord or Lady Black, and it would be tempting for Grayson because it would give him the Malfoy seat, tying their families closer together. Yennefer had clearly failed to impart her grudge onto her son, but she'd still have to think about how to go about getting Grayson to agree to take his troublesome cousin as a mistress. 

Sipping the very expensive wine available, she mentally admitted that the Raums had gone all out with this ball and that people would be talking about it for a long time to come.

– Lavender Brown –

Despite her party-girl reputation, she wasn't actually that big on events like this. They were generally way too stuffy for her. Plus, her dad being around meant she had to be on her best behaviour since he still thought she was his innocent little princess. 

But the main reason she didn't like these kinds of parties? Her best friend never got to come with her. It was bullshit, Parvati was a pureblood, but because she was Indian, she never got an invitation to the stuffy high-class parties.

Parvati gave her a smile, dressed in a very nice red and gold Indian dress, her sister wearing a blue and silver version. Almost never, as it turned out. The Patils were surprised to get an invite by the Raums, of all people, but it was nice to be able to have her bestie with her at one of these pompous balls.

Still, damn. Grayson had had one hell of a growth spurt; he could pass for Damian's twin brother now. He'd been the shortest boy in their year; now, he was taller than some of the seventh years, and he was built.

When she'd been dancing with him, she didn't miss how muscular he was under those robes. He was also an amazing dancer. Even now, he was dancing with a very happy Padma, who was blushing deeply. She and Parvati suspected that Padma had had a crush on Grayson before he hit super-puberty and became a heartthrob.

Bringing Padma back over to them, she was pleased to see that he was so proper with her. She herself had obviously never had to deal with racism; she was a pretty white girl in England after all, but she'd seen plenty of people look down on Parvati just because she was caramel-skinned instead of white.

"Thank you for the dance, Miss Patil," Grayson said, his voice deeper than she remembered (not that she talked to him enough to know his voice that well; in fact, beyond hearing him answer questions in class, she'd barely heard him speak at all). Padma flushed as he kissed the back of her hand, giving him a small smile.

"It was my pleasure, Heir Raum-Black," Padma said, giving a little curtsy. "And call me Padma; we've had classes together for three years now."

"I didn't want to presume, but as you wish, Padma. Feel free to call me Grayson or just Gray; that goes for all of you. I still find it weird to be called by my title by my peers," Gray said, giving them all a soft smile. "Congratulations, by the way, top ten again."

"Same to you, Gray. One day, I'll beat you and Granger, but you've been fighting over first place since first year," Padma joked; her shyness had faded after the dance. She didn't miss Lord Patil watching his daughter with a pleased smile, seeing her so close to the new rising star.

Gray gave a small smile, even as his features twitched at the mention of Hermione. She'd been sure Gray and Hermione had some rivals-to-lovers thing going on, but he seemed annoyed at her mere mention. She never checked the top ten students since she was well aware she wasn't going to be on them, but she suspected that Hermione had won first place this year.

"Oh, I think my father is calling us," Padma said, spotting her father out of the corner of her eye. Parvati hid a grimace before giving them a smile and a wave. "Later, Gray."

She knew why Parvati seemed so unhappy, even if she hid it well as she went over to her parents. Grayson was the biggest fish for single girls and women, two old and powerful families in one bachelor. She might not care about that stuff as much, but she wasn't blind to the fact that a lot of the girls and women at the party were hoping to get Gray's attention. Marrying him would be an easy way to rise to the top of the political world, and even becoming his mistress would greatly help their families.

Lord Patil wanted that for his family, which meant he wanted Padma or Parvati to marry Grayson. He was far from alone in that desire. Many families were looking at Gray as a potential partner for their daughters, and most of them were proper English families. So, what did the Patil's have that others didn't? Twins. Lord Patil was offering one of them as a wife and the other as a mistress, a package deal. 

From what she'd heard from her best friend, Parvati didn't necessarily hate that, even if she wasn't thrilled with the idea, but she was super competitive when it came to her sister. Padma being offered as a wife would mean Parvati was the lesser offering of a mistress. Padma already had a head start, and Parvati wasn't expecting her shyer sister to get the lead.

Not that the Patils were the only set of twins around. She'd spotted the Carrow twins watching Grayson earlier as he made his way around the party. Grayson had a veritable buffet in front of him; she wondered if Damian was regretting giving up the positions now that he could see the horde of women looking for a way into his brother's bed; every girl in Gryffindor knew he was a complete manwhore. 

Not that Damian had trouble getting laid; she could already see him chatting up some older girl she didn't recognise with the same laid-back smile he always had.

Parvati returned, with Padma heading off to speak to some Ravenclaw girls she recognised. Parvati hid it well, but she was obviously annoyed by something. She was just glad her own father didn't believe in arranged marriages; otherwise, she'd probably be on the buffet for Gray to devour.

After sharing a look with Parvati, they held a silent conversation made possible by their long friendship, Parvati giving a reassuring smile. Giving Gray another look, she started to plan how to help Parvati get ahead of her sister.

– Grayson Raum-Black –

It's no exaggeration to say that I'm a piece of prime steak being tossed before a pack of hungry lionesses. The full return of the Raum-Blacks to the political game has opened up a lot of possibilities for every side, and everyone wants a piece of us.

Even Minister Fudge wanted to monopolise my time, hoping to secure our vote for his upcoming re-election. He messed up in my second year, arresting Hagrid, a half-giant, as the heir of Slytherin, and then again last year with the Sirius Black fiasco, so he's on shaky ground and doesn't have many allies.

The Triwizard Cup is probably his last chance to save face; he needs it to go perfectly. This entire ball has been an opportunity for him to try and get as many allies as he can, and he hasn't been doing great, to be entirely honest.

I have to wonder how he became Minister of Magic in the first place, but I suspect a large part of it is how easily he can be swayed. There's nothing particularly impressive about him; he has no great achievements; he's just kinda there, not rocking the boat and doing whatever his 'supporters' tell him to. He's rather infamous for running to Dumbledore anytime there is a problem, and his secrets were laughably predictable. He's taken bribes to vote in certain ways, which is only a secret if you really stretch the definition of the word. 

When a Minister's best trait is his bribe-ability, the fact that he's taken bribes isn't exactly a great secret.

I have been gathering secrets as the party goes on, pleasing my Pact of Secrets by gaining access to the lesser secrets of the British wizarding world's elite. 

As much as I do enjoy dancing, I'm glad to give my feet a break. As the main focus of the ball, it feels like I've danced with damn-near everyone at least once, and it's starting to get tiring. I have been making sure not to leave anyone out; my neutrality is a weapon, and by splitting my attention between the various groups, I can keep myself a valuable recruitment target. 

If they're fighting over me, it makes me more valuable, and therefore, I'll get more from whichever political bloc I eventually side with. If I appear to lean too heavily to either side, that side will have less incentive to bribe me to join them, but on the other hand, the other side will feel pressured to try and stop me. The trick is to make sure I don't go too far either way that the other side gives up and assumes they've already lost the battle for the Raum-Black vote.

It's just a balancing act, showing that I have beliefs that are compatible with both sides. I actually do; I'm definitely more traditional, but both sides have good arguments. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the wheels turning in Pansy's particularly empty mind. She always saw me as beneath her, a second son with pathetically weak magic. The fact that I'm both smarter than her and have considerably better breeding doesn't matter because she just wants someone to look down on, and right now, that tiny mind is putting two and two together and realising that she's pretty much fucked up. 

It's taking a while, the cobwebs in her head slowly clearing, but people didn't miss that I danced with almost every one of my female classmates except her. Her father certainly noticed, and I spotted him pulling her aside earlier. Finding out his incredibly average daughter has spent the past three years futilely trying to bully their host definitely left him looking like he'd swallowed a lemon. Pansy is ambitious and unlike most of the girls here, isn't trying to become my wife or mistress since she's engaged to Theodore Nott, but I saw Lord Nott pull his son aside earlier as well.

The fact is, it's not just me who people are looking towards. The Raums returning to the political world means that all four of us Raum kids are high-value targets; I've noticed several boys trying to court Keira (and some very brave souls attempting to get close to Morrigan before she left.)

Keira can handle them; she has no interest in them, and I do have to suppress my brief jealousy over them sniffing around someone who is already mine. Morrigan drove off her would-be paramours with her usual prickly attitude, and nobody was dumb enough to try again after she sent them running.

I suspect Lord Nott is wondering whether it is worth breaking his agreement with a family as minor as the Parkinson's to try and get Theodore married to Keira instead. It wouldn't work because while I am willing to accept a betrothal for myself, the rest of my family is off-limits. 

I've even noticed some brave men wondering if Mother is back on the table. It wouldn't give them any real power over the Black or Raum families, given that she's already announced that I'll be the new Lord at the end of my fifth year, but she's a very beautiful woman who is extremely powerful, rich and has very good breeding.

Again, it's not going to happen, but I don't blame them for speculating. As a Lord, you have to look for opportunities to further your family's standing, whether through wealth, alliances or other methods. I certainly am because some of the girls here represent a good opportunity to further my own political power.

Susan Bones is the only daughter of the Bones family; Amelia is allegedly infertile due to a curse from her years as an Auror, so that's unlikely to change. If I married her, I'd be taking the Bones into my little power block, essentially becoming the next Lord Bones. That would be three influential families under my control, with a good connection to the head of Law Enforcement.

Of course, I'd have to get rid of Macmillan first, but that wouldn't be hard. This is his first relationship, hence his overly possessive nature towards the admittedly very beautiful Susan, wanting to monopolise her time. They started dating at the latter end of the school year, and have only been together for a few months.

His mind is an open book, and his secrets are clear to me. His lesser secret is that he paid a Ravenclaw to let him copy their homework for Charms, which was boring but still a potential way of getting him into trouble. Funnily enough, the second point of contention between the two comes from an entirely different problem.

Susan is a healthy teenage girl and is eager to experiment with her boyfriend, while 'Ernie' is a good, innocent boy who doesn't believe in sex before marriage. He puts too much effort into being 'proper' and turned down her advances when she made them during some of the private time they spent together. He's worried his father would disapprove of any 'fooling around', but at the same time, he's equally worried that Susan might get bored of him and experiment with someone else, hence his possessiveness.

Causing them to break up shouldn't be difficult, and as long as I make sure that my part in breaking them up isn't discovered, I'll have the opportunity to move in and comfort her.

Wednesday hasn't stopped staring at me, which has certainly got people talking. From my eavesdropping, the Addams family have a unique reputation already. Morticia holds a similar reputation to Yennefer, a powerful and dangerous woman who you shouldn't cross, but I've heard people mentioning her husband as an odd man, to say the least. Allegedly a financial genius, he has a reputation for being extremely unconventional. Bizarre behaviour, seemingly utterly random actions that make no sense to anyone, but somehow result in his very wealthy family becoming even richer.

Still, the reputation for the Addams being eccentric has helped explain away Wednesday's actions. They just assume she's as weird as her father but in a different way. I can't deny that her stare is… daunting; no matter what I'm doing, I can see her out of the corner of my eye just staring at me, unblinking.

Hogwarts is going to be interesting, but I don't plan to give in to her demands unless she can give me a very good reason for why I should knock her up and give her the demonic child she wants. I don't know if this is part of the Lodge's plans or just her own; Morticia claims this is something Wednesday has been planning for a long time, after all.

Going to get a drink, I have to admit my social batteries are rapidly draining. I've never been an extroverted person, even with my political training, and it's been hours of talking and dancing already. 

"Not enjoying the spotlight, Grayson?" a French voice asks, making me turn back with a glass in hand. Apolline Delacour smiles, having slipped rather close to me. Her dress is one of the more revealing ones I've seen. She's a woman who is very proud of her sexuality and has no problems showing off.

"Nothing so grim; I just needed a drink to soothe my parched throat. I think I've spoken more in the past few hours than I have in the entire summer holidays," I say with a small smile, sipping my drink. It's non-alcoholic, of course. I could drink wine if I wanted, but I need my senses to their fullest, and while I do drink on occasion, I'm not a heavy drinker, and frankly, I can be a bit of a lightweight. "And frankly, my feet need a rest from all the dancing."

"I can imagine, you've barely been off the dancefloor all night," Apolline agrees, giving me a smile that sends a shiver through my body. Veela are dangerous, incredibly sexual beings, and that single smile promises endless pleasure. She isn't using her aura, one of the regular complaints about Veela is that they have their enthralling aura that they can barely control, but Apolline hasn't slipped up once.

She's been using tonight as a chance to try and win over people for the upcoming vote on Veela rights in Magical Britain, but I'm not sure how successful she's been. It's definitely helped, but I'm not sure it really has a chance of going through. She doesn't have a champion to push for it, and the fact that the vote is practically being pushed on us by our French counterparts has made even the more progressive nobles look down on it out of sheer pettiness. Given the way she's looking at me, I suspect she's looking for that champion, given the way she's looking at me.

"The price of popularity, but one I'm happy to pay," I joke with a soft smile, keeping my eyes on hers even as she leans in slightly, giving me a very good view of her considerable cleavage.

"I must say, you're a wonderful dancer. You're certainly the best I've seen in England; who was your tutor?" Apolline asks, making me smile slightly.

"My mother, though only briefly. In truth, I don't have much practice," I admit. Lord of the Arts has been doing most of the work, giving me an unnatural amount of grace on the dance floor. 

"Truly?" Apolline asks, eyes widening. "You should consider getting a professional tutor if this is what you are capable of with just a few lessons and natural talent. You have a true gift for dance, or perhaps all the arts given your rather fabulous paintings."

As I thank her, my eyes wander to the various pieces my mother put up. I can see Aunt Triss speaking to someone in front of the portrait I did of her, and my lips briefly curl up in annoyance. I could do so much better.

"You do not like your artwork?" Apolline notices, making me chuckle.

"I'm a perfectionist by nature; where others may see beauty, all I see are the flaws," I admit, making her smile.

"Ah, the curse of the artist," Apolline says with a knowing smile. "Perhaps I can model for you one day? I'd love to see myself on your canvas."

"Perhaps, I'm sure you'd make for a beautiful muse," I compliment, making her giggle. "Have you modelled before?"

"I have, at Duchess Henrietta's gala. Have you heard of it? She holds it every year, gathering the best artists in Europe to show off their work. Sculptors, dancers, painters and musicians, masters of every craft," Apolline explains. "I was disappointed with the result; the artist made many bold claims, but he couldn't live up to them. The end result was passable, but hardly anything worth displaying."

"I've heard some tales, but not much beyond that," I admit with an easy smile. "But we'll see, life is busy for me with my new promotion, and it's only going to get more so when I head back to school."

"I'm sure once word reaches Anna about your skills, you'll find an invite headed your way; she takes the arts very seriously. It's a point of contention between her and Celene; they love fighting over which artist is best," Apolline jokes. First name basis with both Celene and Anna? Apolline is very well connected with the upper echelon of the French nobility. "We do love our art in France, perhaps a little too much at times."

Smiling, I take another sip from my drink as I glance over the party. I expected more trouble, but both sides are mostly behaving themselves. There was an argument between two Lords earlier, something about a vote that went on last spring, but it fizzled out quickly enough.

Still, the party is very clearly divided into separate sections. The more traditional families are on one side, the more progressive families on the other, with neutral parties somewhere in between, dancing between the two. Each side seems to be keeping its members in line; they don't want to be the ones who cause a scene.

I've noticed Amelia Bones looking somewhat stressed as several small clashes between the factions give her a few grey hairs; it can't be easy to be the babysitter for Britain's elite. If anything goes beyond arguing, it's suddenly her problem, unless it's an actual honour duel, in which case her hands are tied, even if two drunken idiots are trying to curse each other in public. 

Our government is old, and countless ancient rules and laws have built up over time, bloating our legal system to the point where it's borderline indecipherable to most. Navigating all those ancient laws can't be easy even for her, and our world is slow to change, so changing or removing those laws is equally slow.

Good luck getting anyone to agree to a law reform, either. Some ministers have tried over the years, and it has never gone over well. It's why I do think both sides have good points, the progressive nobles occasionally bring up how bloated and unwieldy our legal system has become, and I have to agree from my own studies, but a reform would require the various sides to actually agree on things and not try to use it to further their own power, which is never going to happen (unless every side happens to be under the control of a single person).

Dumbledore might have been able to push it through after Grindelwald fell, but he wasted his chance and just went back to Hogwarts; for a man with so much power, he's so very passive.

We engage in some small talk as I take the moment to relax, well aware that our conversation is getting more than a little attention. I have no doubt it's deliberate; Apolline wants to be seen getting close to me to further her own ends; I'm fairly certain she wants to bed me for the same reason. 

"Perhaps when you are free from your duties, you should come over to France and see just a little more of the world yourself," Apolline suggests, making me nod in agreement. I love England, but there is a very large world out there for me to explore. "Your father must have seen every corner of the world during his travels; he had quite the legend."

"From the tales I've heard, I'd have to agree. You said he helped your enclave?" I ask, making her nod.

"Veela blood is a powerful aphrodisiac for vampires, and we had issues with a coven of powerful vampires hunting us to get their high," Apolline admits, a scowl briefly crossing her face. "The French law enforcement proved insufficient in dealing with them, and we lost many of our members to the bloodsuckers before your father and another hunter, an older man named Vesemir, showed up. They hunted the coven to the last, recovering several of our captured family members."

"Ah, Uncle Vesemir was my father's mentor, and he's my Godfather. I don't see him often, as he's usually on the path, and frankly, he and my mother do not get along," I admit with a smile. 

"They were most impressive, solving an issue that was so dire for us in a matter of days, but we never really got an opportunity to properly thank them. They stayed a single night and were gone come morn, something about a Nundu causing trouble," Apolline explains, making me smile. It's interesting to hear about my father's deeds from someone other than my mother and Aunt Triss, who I always suspected exaggerated his exploits. Maybe I was the one underestimating what he was capable of. "As the son of our saviour, you'd be more than welcome to stay with us, a rare opportunity. We don't often let males stay in our enclave, you know?"

Veela are entirely female, and I've heard they tend to have large compounds where young Veela can grow up without needing to worry about enthralling people. 

"An interesting offer, I definitely do want to travel when time permits. Perhaps in my next summer break," I say, not agreeing to anything. 

"I'm sure my daughters would love to meet you, but I imagine you'll get a chance to meet them before then, given what's coming to Hogwarts this year," Apolline says, making me nod in agreement. Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will both be sending delegations over to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Cup. "My eldest is one of the contenders for Beauxbatons Champion, but she's always been a competitive one, and my youngest is going to support her sister."

A Veela champion in the country that's about to hold a vote on Veela rights? Something tells me that isn't a coincidence. 

"But I've monopolised your time for long enough, Grayson; I'd better release you from my clutches before some of the other attendees decide to pry you away from me," Apolline jokes, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on my cheek. "Save a dance for me, mon chéri."

Heading back to Duchess Celene, she sways her hips as she walks and seems disappointed to see that my gaze meets her eyes and not her curvy backside.

Preparing my poor feet, I head back out into the ball and return to the spotlight. Lady Greengrass grabs me for a dance, and the night continues. I spot Damian slipping out of the party with someone, brows furrowing as I watch him leave with Celene's handmaiden. Damn it, Damian.

Mother notices as well, but neither of us can follow without attracting too much attention, and I don't trust for a moment that the elven handmaiden is just a handmaiden.

Celene doesn't seem worried about her handmaiden's disappearance, speaking with Minister Fudge (and frankly showing us Brits up with how much more graceful Fudge's French counterpart is).

Still, that doesn't mean I don't have a way of trying to limit the damage Damian could do, mentally reaching out to the Arcane Eye I have watching the portal to my hidden lair.

– Briala –

The British nobles were not pleased to see an elf attending their fancy ball, but as with so many others back in France, they quickly dismissed her as just a servant. It was a common occurrence; her kind was looked down upon and seen as lesser by the humans, but that worked to her benefit.

It was not easy to be France's top spymaster when people paid too much attention to you, but she didn't mind being dismissed and ignored when it enabled her to act so freely.

The Raums were one of the most infamous families in British history for a variety of reasons, and this mansion had remained sealed away for so long. An opportunity to snoop around and see what information she could acquire on the Raums was irresistible. 

Frankly, the English weren't very good at the Game from what she'd seen; Damian proved to be putty in her hands when she marked him as a way to slip deeper into the house.

The Raum-Blacks would clearly be a powerhouse in the British ministry, and gaining even some minor leverage against them could truly help the French ministry and, more importantly, her people.

Gasping, she played the part of the reluctant maiden as Damian kissed her neck, pinning her against the wall. He was a predictable sort, his hand pushing her dress up to her waist as he caressed her thigh before moving onto her ass. She didn't put up a fight, a smirk hidden from him.

She had her ways of making sure that Damian finished quickly and fell to sleep, leaving her free to snoop. She put up some token resistance to his advances but submitted quickly to his charming ways (satisfying his male ego). 

Her panties were pushed to the side, and she let out a moan as a large manhood was pushed into her. It was only somewhat exaggerated; she enjoyed the female form far more than the rutting of males, but Damian was well-built and impressively endowed. 

He carried her over to the table of the room he'd pulled her into, summoning a bottle and two glasses with a cocky grin as he magically poured them. Playing along, she took one with a shaky hand as he continued to take his liberties with her unresisting body and took a sip of the very fancy wine. She was pretty sure she knew exactly which vineyard this came from, but the taste was just slightly off to her memor-

It was tainted, she realised with a moment of shock. He'd drugged her, her body feeling somewhat heavier. 

Before she could do anything, some movement caught her eyes as the door opened, and a highly unimpressed woman walked in.

"Damian, what part of don't do anything stupid was too difficult for you?" Morrigan asked acidly, making Damian laugh as he pulled out of her.

Briala considered her options but played the demure maiden even as she tried to work out what he'd done to her. Her body felt heavier than usual, eyes drooped slightly. Covering her exposed breasts, she tried to fix her clothes with a shy, embarrassed look.

"Oh, quit the act; you aren't fooling anyone," Morrigan scoffed, wand held lightly in her hands. "You think we don't recognise a spy when we see one?"

Briala stared at the younger girl cautiously, denials on her lips.

"Any reason you're spoiling my fun, Mori? Or were you hoping to join in?" Damian asked, sounding unsurprised at the accusation. 

Morrigan gave Damian a disgusted look, her wand sparking.

"Any reason you decided to bring a spy into the private sections of our home? And don't deny it, I'm well aware of the Game you French like to play," Morrigan retorted. 

Briala paused before she straightened up and gave the pair a confident look.

"I merely accepted an offer for a tour of the infamous Raum manor, that is all," Briala said, her demure act gone. "If anything, I should be the one offended that I was drugged by my host."

"Drugged? What do you mean, I just summoned a random bottle- Oh, right… mother likes to put a slow-acting sleeping potion in her favourite vintage to help her sleep; honest mistake," Damian said, shrugging innocently with a smirk on his lips. That lined up with what she was feeling, but he wasn't as innocent as she thought.

She wouldn't be able to snoop if she was struggling to stay awake; he'd have been able to have his fun and she'd be too tired to get any snooping done. He was one sneaky fucker. She'd badly underestimated him.

"You, elf," Morrigan said, making Briala look at her with a slight frown. She was too disciplined to truly react to the venom in her voice, but Morrigan spat the word like it was a curse. "This part of the house is for family and friends only; you are neither. Leave; while I still let you."

The fact that these two had disrupted her plans hurt her pride, but she was too familiar with the Great Game not to respect the outmanoeuvre, and she didn't intend to test Morrigan's resolve. She was not a fighter by nature, and the younger girl just radiated danger.

"Of course, my apologies, my lady," Briala said, falling back into the role of the submissive handmaiden. 

"Don't want to continue that tour?" Damian asked, his tone almost mocking. He'd been onto her from the moment she hinted at wanting to see the legendary house. "Shame, I've got a few places I wouldn't mind showing you."

The Raums weren't to be underestimated; that much was clear. She could get this potion out of her system easily enough; poison was too common back home for her not to have countermeasures, but this was an inconvenience. 

Morrigan watched her until she was back in the public area, and she didn't miss the looks both Yennefer and Grayson gave her as she returned. Well, at least she'd probably given Damian a reputation for having a quick shot.

– Morrigan Raum-Black –

Hearing Gray's voice in her head had been unnerving, given her distance from the party, but he was right about one thing. She was not going to allow some French spy to have free reign throughout the house because Damian wanted to get his dick wet.

"I had it under control; no reason to blueball me, Mori," Damian said, utterly carefree as she glared at him.

"Of all the people you could have brought back, you picked the one from the delegation Mother specifically warned us about?" Morrigan asked, making him shrug. "Don't call me Mori, and if you don't put that tiny sausage you're so proud of away, you're going to be eating it."

"Please, it's far from tiny, I saw you checking it- okay, okay, put away the wand you psycho," Damian quickly cut off, seeing her wand aimed below his waist. "I've never fucked an Elf, never fucked a Frenchie, and I've never fucked a spy. Can't blame a man for wanting to scratch all three off my to-do list, plus did you see her face when she realised I drugged her?"

Damian was not dumb, which was one of the things she hated about him. He was perhaps as smart as her and Grayson but he refused to ever consider the consequences of his actions. Intelligent but not wise. It was infuriating.

"Do I even want to know how you prepared this?" Morrigan asked, making him roll his eyes.

"I just had my house-elf do it, though I wouldn't mind making Briala my new house elf," Damian joked, making her lips twitch slightly at the idea of the arrogant elf being forced to serve Damian's whims. "But you went and ruined my fun, thanks for that."

"It was truly my pleasure," Morrigan retorted.

"Meh, that ball was too stuffy for me anyway. I'm gonna head into the muggle world for some real drinks, get a lonely muggle woman to tend to my sausage, wanna come with me?" Damian asked, making her raise an eyebrow.

"I'd rather kiss a troll," Morrigan replied, watching him shrug carelessly.

"Your loss. It could have been a fun night; enjoy your boring books or whatever it is you do locked away in your room," Damian replied uncaringly. "Try not to stay up too late thinking about my dick."

"Fortunately, there are potions to deal with nightmares, or a quick self obliviation to remove such horror from my mind," Morrigan fired back, making him snort.

As he wandered off, she frowned. How had Grayson managed to reach her mind from the ballroom? More and more secrets were gathering around him, and it was driving her mad.

Returning to her room, she wondered just how Grayson was gaining these new abilities, the rituals he'd found… what was going on with him?

– Grayson Raum-Black –

Sending the Arcane Eye back, I let out a mental sigh of relief. Projecting my Legilimency through the Arcane Eye is tiring, and splitting my focus between the ball and the Eye was complicated. My dancing took a sudden decline, but fortunately, I thought ahead and was dancing with Keira who could cover for me. To an outside observer, I probably just seem tired.

The ball is finally coming to an end (after a grand fireworks show I didn't even know my mother had planned) as more and more people excuse themselves. I still have to play the host, saying my farewells to the various people (and thanking Merlin for my Occlumency, which is helping me keep the hundreds of guests' names and faces sorted in my mind, along with their Lesser Secrets, of course).

My eyes are strained from overuse, my feet are killing me from so many dances, my voice hurts from endless conversations, and I'm just tired. 

Still, more than a few of the ones hanging around happen to be attractive, female and unattached. I hate to agree with Damian about anything, but I wouldn't mind some company tonight as I look over the ball with a small smile. Time to finish this with a bang- no, that's stupid, and I'm never thinking that again.

Time to get laid.

— Bonus Scene — Astoria Greengrass

Grayson really knew how to throw a party, it had cool performers, neat fireworks, and so much food. She could barely fit into her dress after her attack on the buffet, and as she stretched and yawned she looked over at where Gray was chatting with someone she didn't know.

He was super popular now, but meh… she'd liked him before everyone else wanted a piece of him. Gray was a big fucking nerd, but he was kinda cool and really good at teaching.

Glancing at Daphne, she rolled her eyes. Her sister took that Ice Queen stuff way too seriously; she'd heard Daphne and Tracey scheming before the ball, but even now, hours later, Daphne hadn't approached Gray about the fact that their dad had sent him a betrothal contract for Daph. What did she think was going to happen if she never actually did something? 

Pft, what was the point in all that scheming if you never actually acted on it? Maybe her sister was just kinda a wimp behind that frosty mask? Ooh, she hadn't tried that dessert yet. 

Maybe she'd throw her sister a bone and talk to Gray for her, pull him onto the dance floor again and commit more assaults against his poor toes. Since when was such a good dancer anyway? She'd definitely asked him before, and he said he didn't dance, the big liar.

Eh, he was a Slytherin and seemed to take that nonsense seriously, he probably had a lie quota to fill. Huh, could you lie about how many lies you'd told if you had a lie quota? Man, people paid way too much attention to that stuff sometimes. It was hard being the only mature person around.