Hullo.

I was rather proud of this actually.

I don't own Harry Potter, J. K. Rowling does.

Enjoy...

I look at my reflection in the mirror. I have grown rather tall in the last few years, I note. My hair is half pinned up with diamond clasps that sparkle in the light and the rest is flowing over my shoulders in smooth blonde waves. My lips have been painted deep red and my ice blue eyes lined in black.

The gown I wear is heavy and the bodice allows me little room to breathe. It is pale grey in colour and the simple design is beautiful. My shoes, although they cannot be seen unless I lift my skirt, are also grey and studded with clear jewels.

I don't think much of it all, however, as this is how I would look any other evening upon which I am to attend a ball.

It is just another hairstyle. This is just another dress and they are just another pair of shoes.

~OoO~

I walk into the huge room. Light emitting from the crystal chandelier floods every corner of the room, lavish decorations line the walls. Tables laden with rich, mouth-watering food are placed conveniently around the room, so if you grow hungry anywhere in the hall it is only a short distance before you can satisfy your taste buds.

Everything is a blur of hues. Banners of rich colours are draped over the ornate banisters, and the people gathered there are wearing colours equally as bright – wine reds, emerald greens, sapphire blues.

Laughter and the buzz of easily one hundred voices fill every crevice of the hall. Music rings through the din and a large cluster of people in the centre of the room dance to it.

The Avery family always did know how to throw a party.

But to me it is just another ball. Just another room filled with another set of decorations.

~OoO~

I am standing to the edge of the room idly charming my finger nail polish different colours – hiding from the potential husbands skulking in the crowd – when I am found. Alabaster Parkinson walks out from the tangle of bodies, great.

"Narcissa," the boy greets. He extends his arm to me, his dark dress robes are laced with green around the bottom of the sleeve and hem. I take his hand as I cannot reject it without word getting to my mother. She would not be happy with me – Alabaster, being only a year older than me and wealthy, is a marriage candidate and I (at sixteen) need to be thinking about who I shall marry.

"Alabaster," I reply with no warmth and a put-on smile.

Alabaster guides me into the centre of the ballroom. He is good-looking but not the kind that would speed my heart or redden my cheeks. We start to dance in time to the orchestra and I am already tiring of the familiar turns and swaying.

This is just another dance. He is just another candidate, another man who I do not wish to marry.

~OoO~

I have been in this hall for over two hours now and danced with more than thirty different men. I am taking a glass of wine from a tray when the one person I want to see turns up. Lucius Malfoy saunters over to me. He smiles that charming smile that I want to both slap off his face and kiss away from his lips, it normally depends upon how I'm feeling and how our previous conversation went.

"Miss Black," he kisses my hand softly and it sends tingles up my arm.

"Lucius Malfoy. I cannot decide whether it is a pleasure to see you or not."

"Ah, it is most certainly a pleasure for me," Lucius says, voice smooth as melted chocolate.

"Hmm. Are you going to ask me to dance, then?"

"Of course."

Lucius offers me his hand and for the first time this evening I accept it with a fluttering heart. As we dance we talk in a flirtatious manner as we usually do. His hand snakes lower to rest on the small of my back, a small gesture but he and I both know that it is a step forward. I blush slightly; he is the only one that can coax such emotions from me.

He is not just another man or suitor. He is Lucius Malfoy, the one and the only one for me.

~ The End ~

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