Disclaimer: I don't own even Harry Potter's shoelaces.
I gaze at her across the crowded room.
Members of eminent pure-blood families drift aimlessly about the room in conversation.
It is my seventeenth birthday.
She sits with her head in her hands, her eyes narrowed in thought. I wonder if she thinks of me, of if I am just another wealthy young man from a good family to be spoken to once, and then ignored.
Nott is coming towards her, swaggering slightly. They speak for a moment, then he takes her hand and leads her out onto the dance floor.
My Father is coming my way. I try to remain inconspicuous, but he has spotted me.
"Lucius," he says, his great voice booming. "I am surprised not to see you dancing. This celebration is all for you after all." It would be useless to explain that the only one I wish to dance with seems to have forgotten my existence, so I keep silent. He soon grows tired of me and moves on.
They tell me she like ice, cannot get close to anyone. I do not care.
They tell me there was some scandal involving her sister. It is not her sister who interests me.
They say she is dangerous.
But I am dangerous too.