Draco's POV:

To say I was nervous for the Christmas ball that mother had been planning would be an understatement. We generally have one each year and the guests are almost always the same. Father's 'colleagues'. Which really means his fellow Death Eaters. This year Lizzie was going to be attending the ball and I didn't know if she would realize the common thread among all of the guests.

I held Lizzie's small hand and we stood at the base of the glossy stairs that led up to the third floor. As I had promised, I was about to show her the library.

"Alright, close your eyes," I told her, grasping both of her warm hands in mine. She smiled and obliged, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. I waved my hand in front of her face to test. She didn't flinch in the slightest. "Now you have to trust me and follow me."

"Are you trying to turn this into Beauty and the Beast?" she asked as I began to lead her up the stairs. Her feet felt their way up each step before she placed any weight on it. Every time one foot found its place, the next would begin to feel out the next spot.

"Beauty and the what?" I questioned with a confused expression on my face. She pursed her lips together in a smile and crinkled her nose the way she usually does when she laughs.

"It's a muggle fairy tale. I'll have to show it to you sometime," she beamed. Despite the fact of the muggle part of the story, I was looking forward to hearing this fairy tale.

When we reached the top of the staircase, I led Liz to the center of the cool room and released her hands. She dropped them to her sides and quirked her head in question.

"Wait here and keep your eyes closed," I commanded as I turned away from her.

"Don't tell me you're going to open the curtains," she giggled. I froze with my hand inches away from the intricate, velvet curtains that hid all sunlight from the room.

"Is that part of your muggle story?" I gripped the soft fabric in my hands and pulled them apart, allowing sunlight to sweep across the room and illuminate the dust in the air. No one uses this room much.

"It is, in fact," she spoke clearly, turning her head to the window but not opening her eyes. The sunlight shined on her face, lighting up her faint freckles and rosy cheeks.

"Okay," I whispered, "open them."

Lizzie bit her bottom lip and lifted her eyelids. The immediate joy on her face was astounding. Her jaw dropped in a smile that showed she was amazed and in shock. Her face lit up so much that the sunbeam on her face became dull in comparison.

Slowly, she rotated in place and looked at the bookshelves that lined the walls. She weaved between the tables and sofas that sat in the center of the room and trailed her fingers along the red fabric.

"I had no idea so many books could be fit into one room," she grinned, obviously happy. How someone can get so much joy from pieces of parchment bound together, I'll never know.

"I take it you like it?" I laughed at her running her fingers down the spines of books and reading their titles.

"I love it, Draco," she whispered. "I might not ever leave." She picked up a random book, leafed through its pages, and placed it back on the shelf.

"Our home is your home. You can borrow any book you'd like to." I sat on one of the sofas as she continued to wander around the room looking at what books were on the shelves.

"Some of these are muggle works. Romeo and Juliet, The Phantom of the Opera, Frankenstein. I wonder," she trailed off her last sentence and walked to the bookshelf on the opposite wall from where she was and began to search the spines.

I had no idea what Frankenstein was or who Romeo and Juliet were, but I pretended to know what Liz was speaking about.

"All of these books were written by wizards, so these muggle stories obviously aren't so muggle," I filled her in. There was no way Father would have muggle books in our library.

Suddenly, the girl gave a gasp of surprise and pulled thick book with red binding from the shelf by her knee.

"You mean Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve was a witch?" she asked, flipping the books over in her hands.

"Who?" I stuttered.

"Gabrielle-Suz-" I cut her off.

"No, I heard you. What's that have to do with anything?" I leaned forward on the sofa and leaned my elbows on my knees.

"She wrote La Belle et la Bête," she grinned as she held up the book in her hand.

"Beauty and the Beast," I translated without a second thought.

"You know French?" Lizzie asked with a raised eyebrow.

"A little. Father considers it the language all purebloods should know," I explained with a flourish of my hand, dismissing the subject.

"Well I guess you learn something new everyday," she chuckled, sitting beside me on the sofa.

"So what's this story about?" I leaned back and rested my arms on the back of the sofa. Liz leaned into my side and pulled her legs up next to her.

"Do you want me to read it to you?" she offered with a nod.

"Why not? We have nothing else to do," I reasoned. It was still fairly early in the day and the ball wasn't until later that evening.

"I have to warn you that this isn't the same version that the muggle children hear. After Madame Villeneuve died a lady named Jeanne-Marie LePrince de Beaumont made an abridgement and since then, it has been adapted to be performed as a play, musical, and is even now a movie."

"You'll have to show me this movie someday, then," I smiled.

"Deal."

"Alright now read!" I commanded.

"Okay, okay. Jeez," she laughed as she flipped through the book. When she landed on the first page, she cleared her throat and began to read. "'In a country very far from this is to be seen a great city, wherein trade flourishes abundantly. It numbered among its citizens a merchant, who succeeded in all his speculations, and upon whom Fortune, responding to his wishes, had always showered her fairest favors.'"

"Wait, fortune is a person? And she's a she?" I interrupted curiously.

"Apparently," Liz laughed. "Now let me read."

"Go on."

"'But if he had immense wealth, he also had a great many children, his family consisting of six boys and six girls. None of them were settled in life : the boys were too young to think of it ; the girls too proud of their fortunes, upon which they had every reason to count, could not easily determine upon the choice they should make.'"

"Merlin's beard," I spoke, "six boys and six girls. Twelve bloody children, and I couldn't get one brother!" Lizzie laughed at this. She threw her head back and her sweet laugh echoed around the room.

"I'd offer to loan you Grayson, but you two don't seem to like each other much."

"I don't mind the bloke. He's the one who doesn't like me!" I exclaimed.

"Oh hush," she smirked, "back to the story. 'Their vanity was flattered by the attentions of the handsomest young gentlemen. But a reverse of fortune which they did not at all expect, came to trouble their felicity. Their house took fire ; the splendid furniture with which it was filled, the account books, the notes, gold, silver, and all the valuable stores which formed the merchant's principal wealth, were enveloped in this fatal conflagration, which was so violent that very few of the things could be saved.'"

"Well that sucks," I deadpanned, wrapping my arm around Lizzie's shoulders.

"If you keep interrupting me like this, we won't get through the first chapter," she frowned.

"Okay, I won't talk anymore. I promise." She continued with the story only after giving me a firm stare.

"'This first misfortune was just the forerunner of others. The father, with whom hitherto everything had prospered, lost at the same time, either by shipwreck or by pirates, all the ships he had at sea ; his correspondents made him a bankrupt, his foreign agents were treacherous ; in short, from the greatest opulence, he suddenly fell into the most abject poverty.'"

I was about to make a comment about pirates when I remembered my promise to stay quiet, so my mouth remained closed.

"'He had nothing left but a small country house, situated in a lonely place, more than a hundred leagues from the city in which he usually resided. Impelled to seek a place of refuge from noise and tumult, he took his family to this retired spot, who were in despair at such a revolution. The daughters of this unfortunate merchant were especially horrified at the prospect of the life they should have to lead in this dull solitude.'"

Lizzie read to me for hours on end, until the sun was well gone from the sky and the stars had come out, when I suddenly remembered the ball.

"Hey, Liz, we should probably go get ready for the ball," I whispered when she took a pause to breathe. She looked at the window, which was now dark, and nodded.

"You're probably right." So I walked her back to her room, where I left her to dress for the ball. Once back inside my own bedroom, I dressed in my best tuxedo. I never did like the dress robes wizards wear these days.