For a moment he simply looked at her in surprise. Then his gaze moved to her outstretched hand, and he stiffened.
On the fourth finger of her right hand she wore a signet ring in the shape of a griffin. The signet was the griffin's back, on which an M was engraved, wound round with tiny serpents. The griffin's wings made the band of the ring, which was carved entirely out of a single piece of onyx. He knew the ring; it had been his father's. His father had been wearing it the day that he died.
The breath went out of Draco in a whooshing gasp; he was unconscious of his hand going slack in Ginnys, or her startled eyes on his face.
'Dance with me,' said Rhysenn, and her eyes held a warning.
For a long moment, he hesitated. Then, recollecting himself, he turned back to Ginny. 'Gin, I — '
Without letting him finish, Ginny whipped her hands out of his with a snap. 'Its fine,' she said tightly. 'Aidan will be wondering where I am, anyway.'
She flounced off. Draco looked after her in mingled disappointment and annoyance. Why did she always fly off the handle and think the worst of him immediately? Did explanations count for nothing?
Feeling rebellious, he took Rhysenn's hand. Her slender fingers closed tightly around his and he could feel the imprint of her sharp nails on his skin. 'Lets dance,' he said.
He let her lead him out onto the dance floor, where she immediately threw her arms around him and yanked him against her, pressing their bodies so tightly together he would have been astonished if a sliver of light had been able to penetrate the nearly nonexistent distance between them. She was wearing a very sweet, very heavy perfume that made him think of jasmine and sandalwood and created a slight dizziness behind his eyes. He tried to focus on her face, which was a bit difficult given his lightheadedness. With her black hair and red lips she looked a little like a banshee, but her gray eyes were pure Malfoy.
She tilted her head back and let her red lips brush his ear. 'Draco,' she whispered. 'Are you ready to hear what I have to tell you?'
He tried to pull back, but she clung on like a limpet. 'That depends on what it is.'
She pouted a little. 'You?re no fun,' she complained. 'Wheres the famous Draco Malfoy charm I?ve heard so much about?'
'I?ve generally found it necessary to tone it down at crowded events,' said Draco dryly. 'It can be dangerous.'
'To women especially, I imagine.'
'Yes. Occasionally they injure themselves in their frenzy to disrobe.'
'Like that little redhead you were kissing?'
Draco stopped dead in the middle of a dance step, and tightened his grip on her hands. She winced, but kept smiling. 'I think its time you told me what you came here to tell me,' he said tightly. 'You talk, or I leave.'
She tossed her hair back. 'Its a message,' she said. 'You might not like it.'
He raised his eyebrows. 'Not another of those death threat things,' he said lightly. 'Harry and I seem to have been getting a lot of those lately. 'Die, die, spawn of evil,' all that sort of thing, it's really very boring.'
'No,' she smiled. 'This is a message you need to receive.'
Draco began to pull away politely. 'I don't think so-'
'The message,' she purred, 'is hidden inside my bodice, if you'd care to try to find it.'
Draco looked at her sideways. Her bodice was so tight, he couldn't imagine how she could fit so much as a tissue in there, much less a substantial piece of parchment.
'I know I have a reputation,' he said. 'But I do not grope strange women on public dance floors, even if they are related to me.
Especially if they are related to me, in fact.'
She smiled coolly, and reached for his hand. A moment later, he felt something cold, hard and round pressed into his palm. She closed his fingers around it; he knew without looking that it was the signet ring. 'Your father,' she said, 'wanted you to have that.'
'What is this?' He was astonished at the coldness in his own tone.
'What are you playing at, Rhysenn?'
'I can?t tell you,' she said. 'I must give you the written message.
Those were my instructions.'
'Instructions from who?'
In answer, she only smiled, and tugged at his closed fist. He let her lead him into the shadow of a curtained alcove. She pushed him into it and then followed, dragging the curtain shut behind them. In the shadowy half-light, she smirked up at him, let go of his hands, and reached down to start unlacing the front of her tight, poppy- embroidered bodice.
Draco took an involuntary step back, although he didn?t take his eyes off her. (He was, after all, seventeen.) 'What are you doing?'
She smiled again and tossed her hair so that it ran down her back like a river of black ink. She inhaled, which, given the state of her clothes, was impressive. 'Giving you room,' she said. 'The message.
Come and find it.'
And he did.
Anyone passing by the alcove, curtained off though it was, would have heard the sound of a slight scuffle, much giggling and a somewhat out-of-breath-sounding Draco saying, 'Wouldn?t it have been easier on you just to jump out of the birthday cake stark naked, if this was what you were after?'
