Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A Quick Escape
By Silver Sailor Ganymede

Eileen Prince hated the monotony of pureblood society. Most of the girls her age would scream with delight upon hearing that they'd get to dress up and look pretty and dance with as many people as they pleased, but not Eileen. She thought that even the best dress robes looked dull once she put them on, the paint on her face made her look more like a scruffy child than a sophisticated young woman, and to top all that off, she hated dancing. Hated it. Had she been a boy then she would have spent most of her time playing cards by the fireplace with Sebastian Urquhart and Marius Selwyn, but her father insisted that silly little games weren't befitting of a pureblood woman of her station.

She hated balls even at the best of times, but she hated them even more when she had the misfortune of running into Abraxas Malfoy, which seemed to happen to her all the time. He was a few years older than her (he'd been in his seventh year at Hogwarts when she'd been in her first), but she'd had the displeasure of knowing him all her life because their fathers happened to be close friends. Yes, Lysander Malfoy and Severus Prince had long been inseparable, but unfortunately for Eileen they seemed hell bent on marrying her off to Abraxas. He seemed delighted at the prospect of marrying an influential pureblood such as herself, but Eileen did not share those feelings; Abraxas Malfoy was the most insufferable man she'd ever had the misfortune of meeting. He also happened to be heading straight towards her.

"You shouldn't be on your own on a night like this, my dear Eileen," he said in his normal, suave manner. She glared at him in response.

"I'm not your dear anything, Malfoy."

"Of course you are," Abraxas laughed. "Would you do me the honour of having the next dance?"

"You know I don't dance."

"Then let me at least get you a drink."

"Why?" she snapped. "So you can spike it with firewhisky like you did last time?"

"As if I'd do such a thing," he sighed. "You should really stop scowling, you know. It's not pretty."

Eileen scowled even more. "I'm not here to be pretty for you. I'm just here because I've been forced to come."

"Then dance with me. You might at least enjoy yourself then."

She pretended to give in. "All right, you win. But do let me go and fix my hair first, won't you?"

"Certainly," he replied.

Eileen exited the room as quickly as she could without attracting any unnecessary attention. She felt extremely happy that her excuses had worked and she had managed to escape without having to dance. Instead of going to fix her hair, she ran out into the gardens and sat outside under a tree. It was nice and peaceful there, with no stupid sycophants, no garish dresses and most importantly no Abraxas.

No matter what their fathers wanted, Eileen had long ago made up her mind that she was never going to marry Abraxas Malfoy. No: she would rather marry a muggle than end up married to him.