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weelittleweasley · 4 years ago

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masquerade (d.m.)

prompt as requested by anon: draco malfoy was your rival in slytherin house. both of you ambitious, bold, and daring. as one of the few pureblood slytherin families left, you promised yourself that you would continue your lineage, but not with scum like malfoy. instead, you would meet a suitor at the annual masquerade ball hosted by the malfoys each year. but what if your prospective suitor is someone you didn’t expect...

pairing: draco malfoy x fem! pureblood slytherin reader

warnings: language

word count: 8.7k

author’s note: let’s say this takes place around 7th year (no voldy) right after the reader’s 18th birthday. also--i took the liberty of naming the reader’s parents just for sake of making things less confusing.

you guys...would you want a second part to this? i may have an idea for a sequel? depends on how you all like it, but this...kinda went hard ngl

here is a playlist that i found on spotify that works well with the fic! credits to owner!

Rivalry; nothing like it. It gave you a reason to work harder, faster, and stronger than your rival. You were taught at a very young age that you should never surrender to someone who tries to make you feel inferior. And you took that to heart throughout your time at Hogwarts. You fought wisely with your charisma and charm, earning you the highest marks at school. You were a prefect, one of the top five students in your graduating class, and you were already making plans for your future.

But that didn’t mean that there weren’t any challenges in your way. Many obstacles stood in your path of achieving greatness. One of those obstacles named Draco Malfoy. The two of you came from pureblood Slytherin families who had been fighting for power that dated back hundreds of years. That only meant that when you both entered Hogwarts in the same year, you had a rival to beat. But Draco wasn’t stupid. He knew how to keep up with you, sometimes surpassing you. Draco was also a prefect alongside you, one place higher than you in your class ranking, and not to mention, Professor Snape’s favorite student.

It drove you ballistic that no matter what you did, you couldn’t outsmart Malfoy. He was always one step ahead of you. He anticipated your every move as if he had studied you for years. But you had something on your side that Draco didn’t expect; divine feminine energy.

You would never fall for Malfoy, not in a million years. But that was exactly the point. Use what you have that Draco wants to your advantage. Your mother always told you that women had the energy of a thousand suns in their eyes and could burn anyone they wanted with just a stare. So that’s exactly what you did throughout Hogwarts. Burn Malfoy.

With just a look in the halls, you would set the boy on fire. With rage, with envy, with frustration, and with passion. You wanted no more but to see the boy fail. But failure wasn’t in Draco’s vocabulary. Needless to say, your time at Hogwarts became full of push and pull between the both of you. A rivalry of the ages.

It was exhausting, being tasked with rivalry at school, but you were thankful when winter break rolled around. You sat in your family’s manor house, the roaring fireplace in front of you as you read an alluring book. The crackling fire warmed up your chilly toes as a green velvet blanket rested over your shoulders. During break, you didn’t have to worry about Malfoy or his every move. You could enjoy yourself.

As you read, you can hear the footsteps of someone descending the stairs. “(Y/N), dear,” your mother’s voice calls out.

“In the drawing room, Mother!” you call back.

Soon enough, there your mother was, looking regal as ever as you smiled. Your mother was truly a force to be reckoned with. She stood in front of you, in a beautiful black gown, trimmed with gold and silver, your family crest embroidered above her left breast. Her hair was styled away from her face to reveal her youthful looking face. She was stunning to say the least. “I have news, darling,” she smiles, approaching you before taking a spot on the loveseat that you rested on.

You close your book and smile as you mother sits behind you, combing through your hair, something you always found relaxing. “I hope it’s good news, I could use some,” you tease her, earning a small giggle.

As she combs through your hair with her fingers, she speaks, “As you know, the annual masquerade ball occurs around this time of year.” You remembered watching your parents get ready for the ball as a child. You would sit next to your mother’s vanity and watch her delicately make up her face as her ladies’ maid did her hair. Your mother always wore a beautiful gown from the finest silk, adorned with jewels or lace or whatever she fancied. You remember your father told your mother she could get whatever she liked; your father wanted nothing but your mother to be satisfied. “The ball is open to any pureblood Slytherin who has reached the age of eighteen. And since you’ve have your eighteenth birthday not too long ago, you are eligible to attend,” you can hear the excitement in your mother’s voice. It had always been her dream to see you attend the ball. And yours to attend it.

You smile widely, “I’m delighted. We’ll need to contact the seamstress now if I want a dress in time.”

Chuckling, your mother places her hands on your shoulder. “Yes, yes, dear. But before we talk about what you are wearing, we must discuss the details,” she informs as you sigh. You just wanted to get to the fun part. “The masquerade ball is not just a party, but a tradition. The ball was made for young pureblood Slytherins to meet each other blindly and find a prospective partner for marriage,” you mother reveals as your heart stops.

A partner for marriage? You had just turned eighteen and now you had to think about a partner? You hadn’t even graduated from Hogwarts yet.

But before you can protest the thought of courtship, your mother adds, “It’s how your father and I met in fact. We had danced the whole night and at the end of the ball, he took off my mask and we realized that we knew each other already. He was my partner in my potion’s class at Hogwarts.” She smiles at the memory. “Now, I’m not saying you need to find a fiancé, but it would be nice to be open to it. It’s tradition.”

The thought of finding a fiancé at the ball made your mind reel and your heart race. Sure, the tradition was old, but there was something romantic about it. Especially since that’s how your parents found each other. You nod your head, “Of course, Mother.”

Your mother presses a kiss to the top of your head. She opens her mouth to speak, but instead you hear another voice. “There are some fine suitors attending the ball this year,” your father speaks. He walked into the room a teasing smile on his face as you roll your eyes. “Let’s not overwhelm our daughter with the prospect that she might find her future partner, shall we, Porpentina?” your father tells your mother.

She simply sighs, “Let’s not rule it out though, Samuel. Anything can happen.”

Your father walks over to the two of you, a handsome smile on his face as he shakes his head. Your father was the smartest man you’ve ever met. He always led with logic and had a rational brain. But when it came to you, your father was putty. He loved spoiling his only child, his daughter. “Anyway, I’m glad that you’ve decided to come to ball, my dear,” your father beams as your mother squeezes your shoulders. “I’ll let Lucius and Narcissa know,” he looks to your mother with a nod.

“Wait, Lucius and Narcissa?” you freeze. Malfoy’s. “Are they coming to the ball as well? Will Draco be in attendance?” you interrogate.

Your father chuckles, “Well, I would hope so since they host the ball every year, dearest.” You scoff and let your mouth fall open. Since when was your family alright with the Malfoy's? Last time you were aware, your families despised one another. “I know, it’s strange, but over the last few years, our families have been able to be more level headed with each other. Lucius is still a fucking prick, but he’s been more tame,” your father huffs, making you laugh a bit. “But yes, Draco will be at the ball.”

You immediately rise from your seat on the hardwood floor. “Then I’m not going,” you state as your mother stares at you confused. “You know how much I hate that pretentious, loathsome boy since I stepped foot in Hogwarts. He’s rude and spiteful and inconsiderate and vile. I refuse to voluntarily be in the same room as him whilst I am supposed to be enjoying winter break. I simply refuse.”

Springing to her feet, your mother tries to reason with you. “Think about it, darling. It’s a masquerade ball. You won’t even recognize Draco. He’ll be in costume as well as everyone else. You won’t even know who is who. It’ll be a night to remember, I promise you,” your mother speaks, rubbing your arms. “Besides, I already called the seamstress and she has a beautiful design that she has custom made for you,” she wiggles her brows.

The thought of attending the ball still did excite you. Live orchestral music, beautiful gowns, champagne in golden flutes. It all sounded so regal. How could you let Draco Malfoy stand in the way of your fun? Besides, the chances of you stumbling upon Draco were slim. Sighing, you surrender, “Alright, fine. But if I so much as smell Draco Malfoy, you won’t hear the end of it.”

---------

Meanwhile, Draco stood beside his mother as servants and maids and butlers ran through the Malfoy Manor, carrying fine china, silverware, champagne flutes, and the finest decorations from around the world to decorate the manor in time for the ball. To the common person, this would all be so fantastic to watch. People decorating the manor in golds and greens, preparing for the quickly approaching festivities. But to Draco, this was normal. All the glamor and the splendor was just another day.

Narcissa holds her son’s arm, linked with hers as she sighs, “Your first masquerade ball. You’ve grown up so quickly, my darling.” Narcissa smiles at her son inspecting his grown face. Where did her child go? All she saw was a fine man.

Draco smiles kindly at his gentle mother. “I’m not being shipped away, Mother. It’s just a ball,” he laughs, giving her hand a squeeze. “Besides, I don’t expect to find a potential wife at the ball like Father believes...” he trails off.

The thought of marriage made Draco’s stomach churn. It wasn’t like he had a choice. Lucius Malfoy expected Draco to find a wife and a wife soon. Even though the boy hadn’t graduated, Lucius wanted to know that the Malfoy name would continue on for generations to come. He needed to ensure that his boyish son found another pureblood and produced an heir to the Malfoy name.

Narcissa looks sadly at her son. She wanted nothing but the best for him, but also wanted the same as her husband. “Draco, dear, you know how important this ball is to your father and I. There are some perfectly sweet, beautiful girls in attendance to the ball tomorrow. What about Pansy Parkinson? Pureblood, Slytherin, comes from wealth,” Narcissa starts.

“What about her obnoxious personality or obsessive nature? Parkinson is a hard no,” Draco dismisses the notion. “Who else?”

Narcissa thinks, “The Greengrasses! Daphne will be in attendance since she just turned eighteen. Her younger sister still has a few more years before she can attend.”

Draco shakes his head, “Daphne is a good friend. It would be awkward.” Narcissa sighs and laughs lightly. “Anyone else or am I stuck with Pansy?”

Mrs. Malfoy stays quiet for a while before bringing up the next name, knowing how touchy it is for her son. “Well, I received news yesterday of another pureblood Slytherin who just turned eighteen recently who will be in attendance...” she trails off as Draco looks at his mother, intrigued and curious. “Miss (Y/L/N) will be coming...”

Draco’s face then contorts with disgust. “You invited my biggest rival to the ball?” he exclaims. “Mother, you know how I feel about her! Merlin, at this point let’s invite Potter and his friends to really spice things up shall we?” he scoffs sarcastically.

Narcissa starts, “Draco, please. I know how you feel about (Y/N), but she is a pureblood Slytherin. Her family has money and power and a title. Maybe if something happened between you tw-”

“Nothing will happen between (Y/N) and I, Mother. So don’t get your hopes up,” Draco cuts his mother off who sadly sighs. Draco monitors her sad expression before he feels guilty for his outburst. “I just cannot see myself getting past my feelings for her as they are now,” he reasons with his mother, squeezing her hand as she sadly smiles. “But I did hear that you invited some Beauxbatons to the ball,” he wiggles his eyebrows as Narcissa rolls her eyes.

-----------

Standing in your room in front of the mirror, your ladies’ maid tightened your corset as you sucked in a breath. “Too tight?” she asks, scared that she hurt her master’s child.

“No, Lottie, just fine,” you smile at her as she ties the strings to the corset before taking your gown off of its hanger. “Lottie, can I ask you a question?” you ask as she helps you step into the gown.

Lottie smiles, “Of course, my lady. What would you like to know?”

As Lottie shimmies the dress up your body, you speak, “When you met your husband, when did you know he was the right one for you? Was there a moment? Or something he said? Or was it love at first sight?”

You hold the dress up as Lottie makes her way to the back to zip it up. “It’s more of a feeling you get in your stomach, my lady. I knew my husband was the one because I felt like my stomach was doing flips and my head was reeling. There’s no feeling quite like it,” she tells you as you smile. Love was so complicated to you. You didn’t understand how it was supposed to work. You loved knowing that there were answers to almost every problem, but when it came to love, you were clueless of its answer. “Take a look, my lady.”

Looking into the mirror, you softly smile. The strapless gown was of emerald silk, hugging your chest beautiful as it came in at the waist as it cascaded down your long legs. It wasn’t puffy or poofy or full of tule. It was sleek and sexy and mature. Your hair was straightened, but pieces fell loosely in your face, framing it. Gold eyeshadow was swept across your eyelids and your lips wore a peachy pink gloss. It was perfect. “I love it,” you smile.

“You look simply stunning,” Lottie added. “Anyone would be lucky to have you as their wife, my lady.”

You smile at Lottie, “Thank you, Lottie. Could you call my mother in please?” She curtsies before leaving you in your room. Nervously, you pace the floor, anxious for tonight’s events. Were you really expected to find a suitor? Who was coming to the ball? Maybe someone from a different country? A bright, handsome wizard might sweep you off your feet and take you away. The thought made your heart race.

Interrupting your thoughts, you hear a knock on the door before your mother enters. “Darling,” she sighs as you laugh. “There are no words to describe the way you look.”

You beam, “Thank you, Mother. I feel good, but I’m nervous.” She walks closer to you, concern on her face. “What if there is no one there for me? Even worse, what if there is someone there for me and I miss them?”

She shakes her head, “You cannot think of those things. (Y/N), I raised to be confident, powerful, and smart. And that’s exactly what you are plus more. Anyone with a brain and eyes will see how brilliant you are. No need to fret.” You exhale as she smiles at you. “I came in here to give you one last thing before we go,” she says as she reveals a gorgeous gold mask, adorned with pearls, diamonds, and emeralds. “It was mine when I went to my first masquerade ball. The same mask I wore when I met your father when I was eighteen. I thought that it might bring you some luck,” she tells you.

Tears start to well up in your eyes before you hug your mother tightly. “Thank you,” you whisper as she holds onto you tightly. “Thank you so much, Mom.”

Your mother gives you a squeeze. “I’m your mother. It’s what I do,” she says. “Now let’s put this on you and get ready to go. The ball waits for no one.”

-------------

The ball was already bustling and it had just begun a mere twenty minutes ago. Women and ladies wore beautiful gowns varying of colors and textures, adorned with jewels and precious stones. Men wore suits and capes, perfectly tailored, all very clean cut. But everyone wore a mask to conceal their identity. Each mask beautiful and intricate in design. Some masks covered their whole faces and parts of their head, other just the eyes, and some wore masks that covered their whole head. Everyone was anonymous and that just made your excited anxiety increase.

As you stepped into the Malfoy Manor, you took in your surroundings. Their home was lovely. Beautifully decorated in golds and silvers, accents of black and green. Huge diamond chandeliers came down from the ceilings and twinkled as light passed through it. A large orchestra was settled in the ballroom, playing the finest music your ears have ever heard. You swooned. This all felt like a dream. A very real dream.

At the foyer, you were greeted by a butler who took your coat and another who offered you a flute of golden champagne as you graciously accepted it with a smile and a soft thank you. Your heart fluttered as you examined the manor through your mask.

“May I escort the two loveliest ladies into the ballroom?” your father speaks as he offers his arms to you and your mother. You smile widely at him before you made your way to the ballroom where the rest of the party was.

The ballroom was enchanting. The walls were golden adorned with the most gorgeous architecture you have ever seen. Painted ceilings of pastel colors with tall candelabras that illuminated them. The orchestra played passionately as couples ranged from ages eighteen to fifty danced across the floor, women’s dresses swaying with each elegant movement.

Your eyes searched the dance floor, trying to see if you recognized someone’s body language or movements. But everyone looked unfamiliar to you. Almost as if there was a fog over your eyes.

That’s when your question was answered. “There is a spell cast over the ballroom,” your mother speaks. “To ensure that no one recognizes each other until all masks are removed. When the clock strikes midnight, all masks are removed and everyone sees each other for who they truly are. Exciting, isn’t it?” your mother whispers as you smile.

It was truly a one of a kind experience. You stood and watched those who danced around you, quietly sipping on champagne. Your eyes drifted off to the sidelines as you looked at the people who were your age. Everyone looked beautiful. One girl wore a dress of ruby red and a large diamond necklace that hung gently from her neck as she made quiet chatter with what you assumed was her parents. Another boy wore a velvet suit of navy blue with shiny dress shoes. He quietly stood by himself, watching each and every lady in the room, watching out for who caught his attention.

Every one of the age of eighteen was on a mission it seemed. These people wanted to find their partner for the night and potentially for their life. The stakes were high. It made your heart race and your adrenaline pump. Your competitive nature was coming over you; you couldn’t help it. You were determined to find someone tonight if it was the last thing you did.

Suddenly, the music faded away and the sound of a clinking glass filled the room. “Good evening, esteemed guests,” a feminine voice called out. “Welcome to the annual masquerade ball!” she exclaims, earning claps from every corner of the ballroom. “As you all know, the ball is designed for young witches and wizards to find a partner. We welcome each of you with excitement for the journey that lies ahead of you. That being said, the time as come for the eligible witches and wizards to come onto the dance floor and mingle. Wizards, you may approach any witch who is eligible and ask to have a place on her dance card. Remember, do not tell each other of your names! The dances will begin in ten minutes, so get to talking!” Another cling resounds in the ballroom as eligible bachelorettes and bachelors flood the dance floor.

You turn to your parents and give them nervous eyes as your mother and father give you a warm smile. “You’ll be brilliant,” your father speaks as your mother grabs your champagne glass and hands you your dance card.

With a deep breath, you shake your head and walk out to the dance floor. Your heart was thudding hard against your chest. The moment you stepped onto the floor, someone approached you. “Good evening,” the boy bows as you curtsy to him. “Might I say you look gorgeous this evening,” he compliments you.

You smile, “Thank you very much. You look very nice as well.” He wore a simple black suit and a green pocket square. The detail made you think he was definitely in Slytherin house. Was he in your year? Did you know him personally? Was it Malfoy? No, Malfoy wouldn’t be this kind to you. But then again, he didn’t know it was you.

The boy speaks, “Could I have the pleasure of having a space on your dance card?”

He seemed friendly and kind, there was no reason to say no. Maybe as you danced he would become more interesting. “I would be delighted,” you respond as you hand him your card. He strikes the card with two x’s before returning it to you.

“Thank you, my lady,” he bows before walking away quickly to the very next girl he laid eyes on. You were startled at how quickly you moved, but quickly realized he had prepared some sort of script to dance with as many women as possible before his time was up. Clever.

You continue to make your way around the ballroom, chatting to a few more suitors here and there. Some men you found more charming and clever than other, while others you found yourself bored of, politely dismissing their request for a place on your dance card.

Glancing at the dance card tied around your wrist, you think to yourself about the gentlemen who asked for a space and you granted them the honor of a dance. The first space to the boy who wanted to ask every lady to a dance, the next to a tall, dark, and handsome gentleman with the deep voice, the next to a funny gentleman with a thick Scottish accent, and the last space empty. There was only two minutes left of the mingling before you were to dance with your suitors.

Too distracted by your dance card, you bump into someone else’s body, making you stumble a bit. “Oh my days, I’m so sorry,” you apologize to the body in front of you.

You look up and meet a pair of ice blue eyes that seem to stare into your soul. Your heart stops in its chest as you suck in a breath. In that moment, it felt like the whole ballroom had stopped moving and it was just you two in time. The two of you said nothing and just looked at each other, deep into the other’s eyes. It was if the man in front of you’s eyes held all the secrets to the world.

Clearing his throat, he speaks in a low tone, “No, I apologize. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You politely smile at him. “But in a way, I’m thankful that I wasn’t or else I wouldn’t have stumbled upon you,” he casually flirts making you blush.

The gentleman bows before you as you curtsy, maintaining eye contact with him the whole time. It was like there was some sort of magnet between the two of you. Was this what it was supposed to feel like? You remember Lottie saying it should feel like there were butterflies flying around and your head should be fuzzy, but none of those sensations were happening. You just felt hot in your face and your palms were sweating, thank goodness for your long gloves.

“I’m glad neither of us were paying attention,” you confess as he smirks. “You are much more interesting than what I was previously focused on.”

The mysterious suitor in front of you chuckles. “I can only hope that you have a spot for me saved on your dance card,” he speaks as you blush.

Teasingly you look at your dance card and fake gasp, “Well, would you look at that? One last spot saved for a special someone...” The gentleman chuckles again as he ticks off the last spot on your dance card.

He slips the card back around your wrist as you suck in a breath as he fingers touch you. “I look forward to our dance,” he bows as you reciprocate the gesture. “Until then, my lady.”

His eyes don’t leave yours until the very last moment as he walks away. You could swoon. He was charming, smooth, witty, and even though much of his face was concealed by his mask, you knew he was handsome. He just had to be. Your face felt hot and your mouth was dry. You knew that you would anxiously await him as your last dance.

With another few clinks against the glass, you are informed that it is time to start the dancing. But before people gather with their first partners, people run back over to where their parents were quietly observing. You excitedly scurry to your mother and father and small smile on your lips dancing as you approach them. Your mother smiles, “Anyone interesting?”

You don’t say a word and take a sip of the champagne that your father offered you. “I know that smile,” he beams. “Which one, darling?” You don’t speak. “Oh, tell us, dearest. We don’t know who any of them are, we are just as clueless as you.”

Sighing, you surrender. “The last gentleman. The one I bumped into.” Your mother scans the room, looking for him. “He has my interest the most out of all of them by far. If the dance goes well, I recon he’ll ask me to promenade outside,” you giggle as your mother joins you.

Your father speaks, “With a chaperone, I assume.”

You roll your eyes as your mother slaps him on the arm. “She’s eighteen, Samuel. She can walk outside with a suitor. Besides, there is security all around the manor. She will be safe.” Your father sighs as your mother looks at you and hands you your lipgloss to reapply. “Go on. Have fun. Play the field, dearest. Remember what I taught you.”

“Yes, Mother,” you beam before heading back to the dance floor.

There, the first boy is waiting for you, his arm extended. You walk arm in arm to the dance floor as the orchestra begins to play a ballroom waltz. His arm is around your waist gently, his one hand holding onto yours as you begin to dance. “Is this your first masquerade ball?” he asks you.

You nod, “Yessir.”

He smiles, “So you’ve just turned eighteen I presume.” You nod again. “This is my fourth ball. I’m hoping to find my one and only here tonight. Do you think you have met yours?” he asks.

You are taken aback by his directness. “Um,” you stutter, “I’m not quite sure. I mean we’ve just met each other.”

He retorts, “Yes, but sometimes you just know, don’t you. You know what I mean?” His eyes are fixated on yours in a fashion that is full of anxiety and nerves as he anticipates your answer. His eyes have a tired look in them, but behind their exhaustion, there is hope.

You gulp, “Nope.” He furrows his brows. “But maybe another lady here understands what you are saying,” you remain hopeful for him as he sighs.

“I am hopeful,” he speaks. “That’s all we can be.”

Before you know it he spins you away and you land in the arms of your second suitor. The tall, dark, and handsome one. You smile as he smirks down at you. “Good evening, my lady,” he speaks in a deep tone that makes you feel like a school girl. “You are ravishing.” You kindly thank him. “So, are you here like everyone else? To find a partner?”

You speak, “I guess so. My parents would like me to be open to the idea of finding a suitor, but I’m still young. I would like to enjoy my time as a single, free woman of my age and status.”

He nods his head. “I see, I see. My parents want me to find a wife here tonight. Me on the other hand? I really don’t want anything serious. I’m just trying to find someone to shag to be quite honest with you. I’m too young to be tied down quite yet,” he reveals as your eyes widen. His eyes on the other hand remain fixated on yours, but aren’t afraid to wander to look around at the other women on the dance floor. You watch his eyes as they occasionally find another woman’s and he drops one of them into a wink. He was a flirt, couldn’t be tied down type. Bedroom eyes that wandered through several bedrooms type eyes. You’ve dealt with those eyes before and were not looking to deal with them again.

You agreed with him on the part of being free and not finding anything too serious, but just a person to have sex with? That wasn’t what you were looking for either. “I see,” you tell him as he winks through his mask. “I’m not quite sure I want something that casual. I am looking for something more consistent, a little more serious than just a shag. More emotional intimacy as well.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugs. “It’s a shame. I found you quite attractive,” he sighs.

But before you can protest, he spins you away from him and into the arms of your next caller, the funny Scot. “Hello there,” he greets you as you meet his gaze. He wears a gentle smile with kind eyes. His eyes are soft and full of childlike wonder. It makes your heart swell to see someone with such eyes.

You softly smile at him, “Hello again.”

The two of you dance back and forth, making light chatter here and there, him sliding in a joke when he can, earning a few giggles from you as he smiles. “How has your night been so far?” he asks you. “Has anyone caught your eye yet?”

You sigh, “The night has been tame so far, but no complaints.” He nods. “As for someone catching my eye, I cannot lie,” you smile as his interest peaks. “There was someone I met who I have my last dance with.”

The Scotsman chuckles, “That’s all you can ask for, isn’t it?”

You join in his light laugher. “What about you? Have you met someone yet?” you ask him as you continue to waltz across the ballroom.

You can see a light rosy hue appear on his cheeks as he smiles. “I have indeed,” he looks across the ballroom as you follow his line of sight. And there she was, dancing with the man you were dancing with before. The same girl from earlier with the gorgeous ruby red gown. “She’s wonderful. And I’ve only spoken to her twice and no more than a total of six minutes.”

Giving his forearm a soft squeeze, you repeat his phrase, “That’s all you can ask for, isn’t it?” He smiles. Maybe you didn’t need a suitor out of the Scot, maybe he was a good friend.

“In that case, we both don’t mind what I’m about to do,” he speaks.

And then he spun you around and off to your last dance.

And that’s when your eyes meet.

You inhale sharply when his hand finds the small of your back and he takes your hand in his. His eyes were still that beautiful ice blue that stared right into your soul and made you want to tell him all of your deepest darkest secrets. Eyes that could tempt you into making the most dangerous decision. Eyes that could lure you into a trap, but a trap that you wouldn’t mind being stuck in.

He breaks the silence first. “We meet again,” he smirks as you blush lightly. The two of you begin dancing as the orchestra swells with music, almost as if they waited to play the most enchanting music right now in this moment. The violins hum a hauntingly beautiful melody as the violas and cellos support the sound. The moment was more than you could ever ask for. “I must tell you, I loathe dancing,” he whispers, making you giggle. “But somehow,” he starts. “You make it feel alright. Not good, but alright.”

You lightly laugh, “I’m glad I can make dancing tolerable for you.” The two of you continue to dance, letting your gown sweep across the floor as the music crescendos. “How has your night been so far? Enjoying yourself?” you ask, curious to know where his mind was at. It had only been minutes but you wanted to know everything about the gentleman in front of you.

The gentleman sighs, “It’s been fine. Not particularly a huge fan of balls or dances. But so far, so good.” He drops his left eye in a wink. “And yourself? How have your other dances been?” he asks you.

You bite your lip and take a moment to think. Now was not the time to play a mind game with him, though you so easily could. But you let your heart get ahead of your head and speak, “None of them as good as compared to this one.” The gentleman laughs, turning away from you in order for you to not catch his delighted blush on his white cheeks. “And your other dances? Did they make dancing more or less tolerable?” you joke with him.

Before the gentleman answers, he looks at the ground with a small smile. He looks up at you and gulps. “I actually didn’t ask anyone else to dance. Just you,” he reveals, making you breath hitch in your throat. That was quite the confession. “No other lady caught my eye like you did.” You don’t turn away when you blush at his flirtations. His eyes stare into yours as your mouth runs dry. “You have the most captivating eyes.”

It felt like you were in a storybook in this moment. The way the orchestra played, how he held you tightly against his body, the way his eyes stared into yours. Your eyes harnessing the power and energy of a thousand suns, but his ice blue eyes able to tame the heat they gave off. Why did this feel so right?

“I don’t know if I should say this,” you start, “but I’m going to anyway.”

He laughs, “I love a girl who can speak her mind. Go on.”

You breathe, “I feel like I’ve known you forever. Like this isn’t our first time meeting. I feel like I’ve known you since the dawn of time.”

You can see him gulp and blink a few times. Did your words scare him? Were you too upfront with him? But before you can think of any more questions, he speaks, “It’s like you can read my mind.” You chuckle as he smiles. “I feel like I was supposed to meet you here, tonight, in this moment. Like this dance was...fate. And I don’t believe in fate.”

For the rest of your dance, no more words are spoken. The two of you just sway and dance to the orchestra that swells with beautiful music. You both gaze into each others eyes and watch the expressions that come across each others faces. With the occasional laugh here and there, absolutely nothing is said. Slowly, everyone around you begins to fade and it is just you two in the ballroom. Why was this happening? You prayed that this was a sign. A sign that this was right, he was right. But you didn’t get the feeling that Lottie was describing to you earlier in your room. Your heart was on fire and you felt like you were about to burst, but no stomach churning or head reeling. Instead, you felt like you were burning. Burning for this man. Burning for his touch. Burning for his attention. You could only hope he felt the same.

Before you know it, the orchestra finishes playing and everyone slowly stops dancing. The ballroom applauds the orchestra and you both join in, but don’t leave each others gazes. Soon enough, people begin to leave the dance floor to partake in other conversations or dance with other people or even promenade outside.

You smile at your gentleman and say, “Thank you for the dance. It was...magical to say the least.” You curtsy to him and turn away to go, but wished you didn’t have to.

Without even taking a step away, you feel him grab your hand. “Wait,” he speaks. “I’m sorry,” he breathes. “Would you...would you like to go for a promenade with me? Outside on the grounds?”

Your heart skips a beat as you sigh and smile, causing him to smile back. He had his answer right there. “I would be more than delighted,” you confess. “One moment please,” you tell him before walking over to where your mother and father watched you in anxious anticipation.

“So?” your mother beams as you nod your head as she smiles.

You had her your dance card and give your father a smile. “I’m going for a promenade outside with the last gentleman I danced with,” you beam as your father nods his head approvingly. “I will see you later,” you speak before walking back to your gentleman as he extends his arm to you.

Your father holds onto your mother’s arm, “Porpentina, how our daughter has grown.” They watch you exit the french doors out of the ballroom and into the gardens of the Malfoy Manor.

Still arm in arm, your suitor speaks, “Now, I know we can’t reveal much of our identities to each other, but I would like to know more about you.” You smile at him, holding onto his arm tightly. “What’s your family like?”

Smiling as you think of your mother and father, you start, “They’re wonderful people. My mother has been my sun, moon, and stars since I could remember. She’s passionate and smart and powerful. She’s everything I want to be.” The gentleman smiles as you tell him of your mother. “My father is incredibly kind though many wouldn’t believe that because of what he does for a living,” you laugh. “But he’s my protector. He’s sacrificed so much for me and for my mother. He’s the best man I know.”

He squeezes your arm. “They sound lovely.” You squeeze his arm back to let him know that his sentiment is appreciated. “Any siblings?” You shake your head. “In that case, we are similar. I’m also an only child.”

“What about your parents? What are they like?” you question him next.

This earns a gulp and deep breath from him. “Well,” he starts. “My mother is kind-hearted. Braver than anyone I have ever met. She’s suffered a lot and continues to suffer just to protect me,” he confesses to you. “I’m sorry I know that’s a lot, but-”

“You don’t need to apologize,” you cut him off, placing a hand on his. “She sounds remarkable. Please, continue.”

He smiles. “She is remarkable. The best woman I know.” You smile warmly at him. Your cheeks hurt so much from smiling. The gentleman takes a deep breath in before starting, “My father on the other hand. He’s a complex man. We’re not particularly close. But similar to your father, he protects me to the best of his ability. I’m not sure whether it’s out of love for his son or for some other selfish reason...probably the latter...” he trails off. You look at his face as it falls lightly. You feel for him. “But that’s beside the matter. I want to know more about you. What are your passions? What are your ambitions in life? What do you want to do with our lives that can be so fucking meaningless?”

You laugh at his joke, crinkling your nose as you do so as he watches you contort your face in delight. He thought you looked beautiful when you laughed. “Well,” you catch your breath. “I want to do something that my family never did. I want to pursue a career when I can help people. Other people. And I have no benefit from it. I just want to help others in any way. When I was a child, I used to want to be a Healer. Then when I was a little older I wanted to be an Auror. But now I’m thinking about being a Healer again or maybe do some form of charity work and philanthropy? I don’t know. I have dreams, but I don’t know which ones to pursue.”

You look at the man beside you and he’s smiling from ear to ear. “It all sounds wonderful to me. You seems so selfless. I’m not used to it, I guess,” he confesses. “But whatever you chose, I know you’ll be brilliant.”

The two of you continue to chat and walk through the gardens, discussing future plans, hopes and dreams, and whatever comes to mind. Talking to this man felt like breathing. It was so easy. Conversation flowed like a channel of water. The conversation seemed never ending and you were perfectly fine with that. You had completely forgotten that you didn’t even know what this man’s name was, but to be honest, you didn’t care. You already knew so much about him from your conversations, you didn’t need to know something as silly as a name.

You walk further and further through the garden until you come across a small area that was covered in rose bushes. It was a strange sight to see, beautiful roses in full bloom in the middle of winter, but with magic, anything was possible. As you walked closer, the masked gentleman plucked one from the bush and offered it to you as you graciously accepted. You continued to walk as he spoke, “There is a game called Rose, Bud, Thorn where you tell someone of the best part of your day, the worst part of your day, and something you are looking forward to. I want to hear yours.”

You nod, “Alright then. My thorn is having to wear this bloody fucking corset top all night,” he laughs at your comment. “My bud is taking said bloody corset off when I get home,” the two of you chuckle. “And my rose...I guess was meeting you,” you bump into his arm playfully. He smiles. “Your turn.”

He sighs, “Let’s see...my thorn is having to dance tonight.” You scoff. “Although, you did make it better...” he teases as you roll your eyes teasingly. “My rose is having the most beautiful, kind, and intelligent woman at this ball with me right now,” he breathes as you blush. “And my bud...” he turns to you as you take a gulp. His soothing icy blue eyes staring into yours made you shiver. “My bud will be taking off this bloody mask of yours and seeing your beautiful face.”

His face is so close to yours, you feel his breath against your lips. Your mouth his dry as you feel him moving closer and closer to your lips. His eyes look at your glossed lips before moving back to your eyes and inching closer and closer to you. Your heart was thumping out of your chest. This was all happening so fast, and yet you were alright with it?

But before he can kiss you, a guard interrupts. “All ball attendees must report inside as per the hosts’ request. It is almost midnight and time for the unmasking!”

The gentleman in front of you sighs as he turns to the guard and gives him a dirty look. “So much for a romantic moment,” he huffs as you chuckle. He takes your hand in his as you both walk back to the inside of the Manor, retracing your steps. You are only a few paces away from inside when he speaks, “Those guards always know how to ruin a bloody moment of mine.”

You furrow your brows and chuckle, “What do you mean?”

“They always seem to catch me at the worst time to tell me something important,” he speaks as you remain confused. He notices your confusion and laughs. “This will all make sense in a moment.” You contort your face in confusion, but before you can ask any further questions the same woman who spoke at the beginning of the ball spoke again. “Welcome back! I hope you all had a lovely night full of mystery and romance,” she giggles. “But now the mystery is over.” Behind her, the clock strikes midnight and bongs. “The spell over the ballroom has been lifted and you may all remove your masks! Please reveal yourselves to each other!”

Slowly, people reveal their true identities and you start recognizing people from Hogwarts. The girl with the ruby red dress that the Scot took a liking too was Pansy Parkinson. So many other familiar faces are revealed as you chuckled. This really was a magical moment.

Beside you, your mysterious man sighs. “Finally.” Your heart beats quickly as you turn to him, anticipating who the man behind the mask was. You hoped he was handsome like you had imagined him to be. Was it someone you knew? Maybe an old classmate? Maybe someone from Hogwarts? Who could it be?

Reaching behind his head, he pulls on the silk strings that hold his mask up. Gently he peels it off and runs his fingers through his styled hair. And that’s when your heart stops and drops into your stomach.

The platinum blonde hair, the icy cold, unforgiving eyes, the pink lips that curled into that smirk. It was all too familiar. All too familiar that it made your chest feel tight with venom and anger. How could you be so naive? How did you not remember those eyes? Those eyes that dug into yours. Those lips that spat such cruel and vile words at you when you were just children.

It was Draco Malfoy.

You inhale a sharp jagged breath as he laughs. “I know, it’s strange, but I’m assuming things are starting to click for you. Especially with how I know the guards and why they let us into the rose garden. But it’s me. I’m Draco. Draco Malfoy,” he speaks with a smile. You feel like you are about to vomit.

Of course, how could you not notice the guards letting you both through the gardens without interruption or protest? How did you not notice his wave of a finger when you needed to be let through somewhere? How did you let him distract you? How did you let yourself become so captivated by the man you hated most in the world?

“I think it’s only fair if I see you now,” he chuckles, waiting for you to take off your mask.

But instead of taking off your mask, you wanted to run. Run far away. Run so far and forget this whole night happened. Forget every word exchanged with Draco full of such adoration. This was a sick joke.

Draco notices your horror and he speaks, “Are you alright, darling?”

His nickname for you made your stomach churn. You felt ill.

You couldn’t look at him any longer. You turned away and began to swiftly walk away from him. “Wait, where are you going?” he asks as you weave through the crowd. “Please, don’t go!”

Your stomach was churning and your head was reeling. How could this have happened. Then it all clicks. Lottie’s words. My stomach felt like it was doing flips and my head was reeling. There was no way. This wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. You were in love with Draco fucking Malfoy. This was a nightmare.

That’s when his hand grabs your arm and flips you to look at him. “Where are you going?” he laughs as he looks at you. “Are you that surprised?” he asks with a smile as you just stand there, trying to catch your breath. His brows furrow. “Is there something wrong? Do we know each other?” he asks. “Take off your mask so I can see you, darling.”

In pure anger and frustration, you hastily sigh and undo the masks strings quickly before ripping it off your face to reveal your identity. The smile on Draco’s face instantly drops as he recognizes exactly who you are.

And there you were, two enemies standing in front of each other, glaring at each other in the middle of a ballroom, surrounded by other young couples who were falling in love. The two of you just burning holes into the other. The energy of a thousand suns trying to melt the ice that stared right back at it. Two sworn enemies now destined to fall in love. What a conundrum this was.

“Call me darling again and I’ll hex you, Malfoy,” you breath through pants of sheer anger.

Your stomach was still doing flips and your head continued to reel. Your face was flushed. How could Draco Malfoy and your masked gentleman be the same person? It was impossible. Your gentleman was kind and charming and witty and smart and thoughtful. Draco Malfoy was vile and rude and unkind and selfish and self absorbed and loathsome. There was no way you could be in love with a version of someone who you swore you would hate until you took your last breath.

Draco’s face slowly moves into a cautious one. “(Y/N),” he starts. “I swear I didn’t know it was you. I was just as clueless as you. You have to believe that I didn’t do this on purpose.”

You laugh, “I don’t believe a thing that comes out of your mouth. I was stupid to believe that I could fall for a person as disgusting and despicable as you.”

And with that, you march away from Draco, ignoring his calls out for you as you approach your mother and father. Once they see you, their expressions change from excitement to concern. Before anyone of them can ask what was wrong, you demand, “We are going home. Right now. I want to go home. Please. Can we go home?”

You feel a lump in your throat and your eyes become hot with tears. Your mother grabs your hand as your father pulls out his wand to apparate you back home. The last thing you hear before you leave the ball was Draco’s voice calling out for you to come back.

Before you know it, you are back in the comfort of your own home, face stained with tears as you run up the stairs to your room. You ignore your mother and father’s call to tell them what happened. You slam your bedroom door shut and lock it before letting the sob rake through your body, shaking you from the inside out.

You were foolish to believe you could find someone at a stupid ball. Those fucking masks. Making you believe someone was something they weren’t. It was all a lie. Smoke and mirrors. And you fell for it. You fell for Draco and there was nothing that you could do to forget it.

You fell for a facade and you would have to live with that forever. How you were supposed to face him at Hogwarts was beyond your control.

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