It was a cold, bitter night in November the night Draco Malfoy threw the Ball. A perfect night, despite what the setting might foreshadow, he had decided it would be. A night, a chance, for him to finally make his dreams a reality, to obtain what he'd wanted for so long. To fill that ache in his heart, that gaping empty abyss that left him writhing for something, anything to fill it. And he would get that. That hole would be filled, painfully and thoroughly until he thought he might black out from everything he felt, finally. But nothing, nothing, could ever prepare him for how the events of that night would change him, and everyone who attended.
Hermione heard the wind whistle through the attic of her house, causing the old floorboards to creak in protest as the gusts of arctic air flew through them. Her house was warm and she felt cosy and safe against the elements outside. But soon she would have to leave and brave the weather as she travelled to the ball. She would also have to brave what lay at her destination, but she was focused on handling the night one step at a time. The invitation she had received a month ago was unexpected but received with no small amount of delight and excitement. It had only been that summer that Hogwarts ceased to be their home and the withdrawal from Draco had been becoming too much for Hermione to bear. It hadn't been a surprise that he'd wanted to throw a ball; Draco was a theatrical at heart and loved creating drama and suspense, providing he was at the centre of it, the puppet master behind all the tricks. However, that evening both Hermione and Draco were to be surprised at just how out of control they would become. The Ball was formal, of course, therefore Hermione had to find a suitable dress to wear. She had too look achingly beautiful; a sight that would make the masses jealous. She had found a red satin gown, long but with a split up to the hip and a v-neck that showed cleavage in a way that she knew would drive Malfoy mad. She pinned her curls up, a few strands framing her painted face - smokey eyes and nude, pouty lips. Hermione looked in her mirror at her reflection. She hoped she had fulfilled her aim. Her stomach fluttered with nervousness and she swallowed the feeling of nausea rising up as she thought about coming face to face with Malfoy again. She took her wine glass and drained the last mouthful, licking her lips to collect the last drops of the crimsom liquid that would stain her mouth. She took her white fur shawl from her bed and arranged it around herself. Grabbing her clutch, she took a final look in the mirror before leaving her bedroom, out into the night where her chauffeur awaited, ready to take her to Malfoy Manor.
Luna grabbed the shot glass from the bench and tipped the bright pink liquid down her throat, flinching as it burned the back of her mouth. She needed all the help she could get if she was going to get through the coming evening. The inviation she'd received had been odd; Luna barely knew Malfoy apart from their various run ins from feuding with each other through Harry. She wanted to think that she'd been invited by request from Zabini, but that was just her imagination deceiving her. She'd been feeling off all week and her uneasy dreams and headaches had only gotten worse as the night of the Ball had drawn closer. She'd asked her father what he thought and he warned her to be wary of intruders in her dreams; it could often be a sign of forthcoming danger. But the prospect of seeing Zabini again had her heart beating fast and her stomach erupting into butterflies. How could she not go? After years of being the cooky Ravenclaw who was friends with Potter, Luna was ready to become Luna tonight and show Zabini what he could have. Luna had chosen a dress her dad would've fainted at- silver silk that pooled like molten metal around her ankles and hung loosley down her chest, folds of satin curving down her neck. Her white-blonde hair was straight amd hung like a sheet of metal down her back. The only colour were the dark scarlet lips that splashed against her face like a mark of paint. Luna looked at the lipstick smudge she'd made on the shot glass. She muttered a spell under her breath and the glass refilled, this time a dark blue liqiud. It was an elixer that would allow her to go without sleep for twenty four hours. She wanted no dreams to come creeping up on her tonight; danger or not, the Ball was about seeing her friends. Hermiome was always a sight for sore eyes- although the two were as similar as a lion and a mouse, as they matured their friendship blossomed. Luna hadn't seen Hermione since they left Hogwarts, some three months ago. Hermione had been busy interning in the Ministry abroad and Luna had been stuck in a London office learning how to be an editor of a magazine. But both couldn't be more exited to reunite. Luna put her drink down and grabbed her bag, breathing in deeply as she grabbed her wand. She dissaparated, leaving the shot glass spinning on the kitchen counter.
Pansy Parkinson was a girl who didn't spend her time pining after one boy all her life. Her average for her life, she was guessing, was going to be two, and she was already on her second. She was completely and utterly in lust with Potter and she both hated it and adored it simultaneously. Boy No1 was Malfoy, and as soon as he made it clear that he didn't want her anymore, she found it easy enough to rip his pictures up and burn them. But with Potter, she didn't know to act around him. She didn't have a clue if he knew who she was, or what she did, or if she'd changed, or if she was single. That was why the inviation to Draco's ball had been such a delight. The guest list was on the back:
Hermione Granger
Luna Lovegood
Pansy Parkisnon
Ginny Weasley
Draco Malfoy
Blaise Zabini
Harry Potter
Theodore Nott
Pansy had dropped the slip of card in excitement, them had to wrestle it from her pug, Parkins, after the devilish mutt had snatched it up. One month later, she was standing infront of her mirror in her closet feeling both the best and worst she had ever felt in years. Pansy's newly tanned skin from her summer holiday in Italy and her dark hair were accented by a deep kharki halterneck gown that showed off her petite figure. She'd curled her long black hair, a departure from the blunt bob amd bangs that had shaped her face in Hogwarts.
She felt sexy and confident, and couldn't wait to see all her friends after almost four months of holidaying in Europe. Her and Hermiome had been writing to each otherahile they'd both been abroad, herself in Europe on holiday, and Hermione working as an intern in the Ministry in South Korea and Japan. To be honest, Pansy expected Hermione to become Minister for Magic in less than five years- something that had never been done before but she had no doubt would happen. Pansy was still wary of Luna however; there was something about her that made Pansy edgy. She knew Luna had a kind heart but there was a layer of ice to her demeanor that she didn't trust. Nevertheless, she was excited to see everyone.
Theo and Blaise lounged by the roaring fire, swirling their respective drinks in their glasses. Theo's preferred beverage was brandy, whereas Blaise had a penchant for Scotch. They were both waiting to apparate to Malfoy Manor, where Draco was throwing a ball. Blaise wasn't surprised; after all, he'd invited Hermione and both him and Theo knew the extent of his friend's feelings for her. It had started just as the desire to bed her, but as the infatuation grew and his release stayed out of reach, it grew into something more potent. Blaise knew Malfoy wanted to take her to bed; the silvery blonde believed that would rid him of deeper feelings that had been plaguing him. But Blaise wasn't convinced. By the end of that night, both former Head Officers would be drunk on each other. Theo, the lucky bastard, was already in love and making wedding arrangements. The chestnut haired Slytherin had met the youngest Weasley while on an apprenticeship with her older brother Charlie. The whirlwind romance in Romania had been the stuff of romance novels and the couple's dynamic when they'd returned home was proof that they were in love. In love, and living in the Zabini Manor.
Blaise's affections, however, lay elsewhere. A fair headed Ravenclaw had been reluctant to leave his head after school finished in July. It was odd; they had never really spoken to each other at school, but the last few weeks of school had been filled with lingering glances and secret smiles during dinner. A brush against each other if they passed in the corridor; teases that left Blaise desperate for more. It was a crush unlike other he'd ever had- more intense than anything he'd ever felt. He didn't know what he would do with himself when he saw her tonight.
"Are we ready to go boys?" a husky female voice said. Blaise turned in his armchair to see Ginny slink up to Theo. She wore a long black dress with a sweetheart neckline but a slit that showed off mountains of pale, freckly skin. Ginny wasn't Blaise's type, by far, but he could appreciate that she looked good. Theo definitely thought the same, as he leant up to kiss her. Blaise looked away, finishing his drink. He stood up and took his wand from the side table.
"Let's go," he said. Theo took Ginny's hand and grabbed his wand and they dissaparated together, leaving the fire crackling.
Malfoy stood at the entrance to the Manor, only one of the double doors open. He had on a black tux and white shirt, the eptiome of classy. He was waiting for his guests to arrive, an evening of pleasure awaited. Although the invitation said 'ball' the only dancing that would be taking place would be private, and without music. Dance with me Granger, he thought as a group of people suddenly appeared at the end of the driveway. Dance.