Thank you ever so much to the people who reviewed! Also, to the people who read! I know you don't review, but it's alright, I'm happy that you even read!

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Alright, down to business. Here, we see the masquerade. Of course, it's at night, and looks like Felix is in trouble. Just to warn you, this chapter is entirely in Felix's point of view, seeing as we all need to know what she really is feeling.

Curious?

Go read.

I hate dressing up.

Not in the regular sense, but I hate dressing up for balls or some other formal event.

The fact that I have to wear a dress already repulses me.

I was already in deep shit. One, because Ivy Stanford (who also happens to love dressing up for balls) was choosing my dress. Two, because I didn't have the slightest idea what to do with my hair. Three, because my mother sent me high heels for the occasion.

Damn.

Not just any old pair of two-inch ones. She had the liberty of making me wear three-inch heels for the masquerade.

I was in a simple black tank top, black Bermuda shorts, and black flip flops. I was in my dorm, quite repulsed at the many gowns in front of me.

"Felix, what about this one?" asked Renee Daugherty, one of my roommates. She put up a satin fire-engine red swirly thing. Renee really should wear that. It brings out her electric blue eyes.

"Nah, it brings out your eyes, Renee. Not mine," I replied, looking at my manicured nails. Of course, I couldn't do that, Ivy did it this morning.

"Aww, really? Because I thought the cornflower blue of yours would bring it out," she said, going behind the screen to change.

Ugh. I really do hate gowns.

"Felix, girl, this'll bring your eyes out!" suggested Amelielle Wagner. She put the sky blue chiffon Grecian-style gown for me to see. I shook my head.

"I guess this'll be mine," she said, changing into it behind the other screen. "I guess so," I replied, leaning back on my headboard.

"Feels! This'll make your brother blush," said Sophie Seymour, modeling an extremely short cotton tube dress. She liked calling me 'Feels' instead of Felix.

"It would, wouldn't it?" I asked, standing up. She gave me a hug and proceeded to do her ash blond hair. She pinned it some sections of her hair up, then let the rest fall in curls. The effect framed her dark green eyes.

Ivy burst through the door carrying two dryclean bags; one black and one white. "Felix! Thank God! Okay, I got you two dresses to choose from."

I raised my eyebrows, looking at the state of my friend. Her gorgeous dirty blond curls were messy and frizzed, her mascara had run, and she was panting a little, like she ran some sort of marathon for the two dresses.

"Umm, okay, if you'd let me see them," I said, eyeing the black one. She noticed my excitement, smiled half-heartedly, and then unzipped the white one.

I scowled. I hate it when Ivy does that.

It was a light pink chiffon thing, with light pink rosettes enveloping every inch of it. It was sleeveless, and the straps were still decorated in chiffon rosettes. Ivy turned it around and it had a deep V going from the two sleeves up to I guess my tailbone. I stood there, wide-eyed with shock.

"Pretty, no?" she asked, slipping the dress back into the dryclean bag. "Umm, not really," I replied, edging towards the black one. She smirked.

"I always knew you had a weakness for luxury, Felix," she said, slowly unzipping the dryclean bag. "Oh just open it already, damn it!" Was my angry reply.

"A'right, a'right, I'm opening it, I'm opening it! Chill!" she answered, unzipping it faster. She pulled out an ethereal black tube lace gown, maybe corseted, with a full skirt and the lace sleeves were off the shoulders. The skirt was probably translucent, from what I knew about lace.

"You like?" she asked as I handled the fabric. I nodded. "Good girl. I knew you'd love it. And I knew you'd better like one of these. I traveled to Paris and America just to get those!" She patted me on the back. "Erm, were they expensive?" I asked, stroking the delicate black lace.

"Both in muggle and wizard money. The one you love is Chanel, dear; I had to go to Paris to have it designed. And the one you rejected which I'm going to wear? Balenciaga. Both are very expensive."

I smirked. "Can I wear my nice muggle shoes underneath?"

"No. Your mum even got you Manolo Blahniks! Go wear those, not your Converse Chuck Taylors, no matter how much you love them."

I scowled. The bloody girl does know how to ruin a day, doesn't she?

"Now, Felix dear, your hair. We're going to sweep it away from your face and put a hat on you. That'll look cute," Ivy continued, putting a small black hat with a matching veil covering my face on my head.

"Uh, I guess," getting my silver half-mask. She stopped me from putting it on. "Felix, makeup. Now," she practically commanded, dragging me to the dressing table. She took off my hat first, then swept away my hair and added some sort of gel to keep everything but my bangs in my face.

"Eyes closed, lips closed, no blinking," she brushed something over my face. I was told to open my eyes once, then to keep them open. My lips were a deep red, my eyes were lined in black and my eyelashes were enrobed in black mascara. Even my pale complexion had a hint of blush on the apples of my cheeks. Ivy made good work of my face. Ivy slapped the veiled hat back on my head.

"There. You look like a girl now. Won't you thank your wonderful makeup artist diva of a best friend?" she asked playfully, asking me to stand. "Right," I answered, making a mock curtsy. "I owe all my femininity to Ivy Rosalind Beckett Stanford."

"Hush, don't say my full name out loud! And dress up. You have to," she shushed me, pushing me behind the screen. I consented and stripped of my garments. I came out from behind the screen, dressed in the decadent lace confection.

"Oh. My. God," said Sophie, putting a hand to her mouth. "You look so pretty, Felix," gasped Renee, wearing the red thing. "Agreed," Amelielle added.

"Do you know already?" asked Ivy as she appeared in the chiffon dress. "What?" I asked, staring at my friend. She seemed so different from what she usually dressed like.

"We have to dress again. It's a costume masquerade now. I'm going to dress as Titania the fairy queen now. I'll get my wings," she said, going behind the screen.

"Damn. I hate last minute memos. That's it; I'm going as Athena, Goddess of Wisdom. Time for more makeup. Yippee," Amelielle said sarcastically, going to the dressing table.

"I second that motion. I hate last minute memos. What do you think, Felix? A prostitute, maybe?" Sophie asked with a smile. "Maybe not, Soph. I think you'd be better off as a druggie/stripper," I shrugged.

"That's exactly what I want! Awesome!" Sophie disappeared behind one of the screens to find the pieces to add to her cotton dress.

"Hmm, I'm wearing red already, so I guess I'm going to be Pearl in teenage form. You know, Felix, Hester Prynne's daughter in The Scarlet Letter?" said Renee, curling her light brown hair.

I stood there, wondering what the hell I should wear.

Ding.

Of course. My brother's shelf in the library holds muggle and wizard books, so once I read this one by someone by the name of Bram Stoker. I already knew who I was dressed as. It was like Ivy already planned my costume for me.

"Felix? Why aren't you adding anything to your outfit?" asked Amelielle, running a hand through her russet-red curls. A golden cuff was on each of her arms, perhaps to compliment the golden leaf crown on her head.

"Yeah, why the natural look?" Sophie added, putting on her feathered mask. "She's already prepared, guys. Satine, right? From the muggle film Moulin Rouge?" asked Renee, putting her curls into a half-pony.

"No, Renee. From a muggle book," I replied, adjusting my veil. "Oh, just stop it with the questions already," Ivy sighed—or rather, Titania the fairy queen did. There was a silver diadem atop her sleek dirty blond head, and she was wearing glittery white organza wings. "As you wish, Queen Titania," I smirked with a mock bow.

"Oh stop it, Mrs. Harker. We really should all go now. Athena, Pearl, Prostitute. We must go and attend the costume masquerade," Titania said with a regal turn, showing us the deep V that exposed her back. "Oh wait, you three go ahead. I'll just add something to Mrs. Harker's outfit."

She turned to me as Athena, Pearl, and the Prostitute made their way to the Great Hall. "Right. Remember the ruby choker you inherited from your great-grandmother?" Ivy asked, tying the string on my mask. "Yeah, what about it?" I replied, feeling the ribbon. "Wear it. It'll look so great with the gown," she said, fishing out the choker from my jewelry box and tying it around my neck. "Uh, I guess. Where's your mask?" I asked, gesturing to her still fully exposed visage.

"It's the stick type mask. I'm carrying it until we get there. Now let's go already! We have booze to drink, places to see, and not to mention, boys to shag!" Ivy pulled me to the door. Much to my surprise, I made it there without tripping. Maybe Amelielle's gliding lessons are paying off after all.

We walked to the Great Hall, passing several boys who ogled Titania mercilessly. I didn't quite know what they were staring at her for; the dress or her figure. Either way, I made it there without tripping, which is an altogether huge achievement for me in heels.

Titania the fairy queen entered first, and I followed her in. Many boys were dressed as muggles; some were policemen, some were boxers, and some were southern American "cowboys". Many of those fellows kissed her hand and whispered in her ear for a dance, most of which she agreed to. The fairy queen left me all alone, with no one to keep me company.

I made my way to the food table, which was strewn with all sorts of rich food. I took a glass of 'punch'. And I said 'punch' because it was probably laced with alcohol. I sipped my drink in a dark corner of the hall, people watching.

Athena was dancing with a policeman, Pearl was at a cocktail table chatting with Dorian Gray, and the Prostitute was practically humping a military officer. A cowboy was whispering in Titania's ear, and she sure did look like she was enjoying his flattery.

My gaze traveled to the large door, where people were slipping in and out of to go to God-knows-where. A masked blond in a silken black cape stepped in, and when the wind blew, his cape revealed an immaculately pressed black suit with a blood red necktie. His hair wasn't gelled back, but it was swept away from his face, a face which was masked beneath a shiny black half-mask. He walked to a boxer, who must've told him something, and came to the punch bowl and took a glass.

He sipped his punch elegantly and with caution, as if he was afraid to get too drunk. He must've spotted me staring at him, since he swept his way towards my dark little corner.

"Why is such a beautiful woman like you standing in a corner all alone?" he asked, staring into my eyes. His eyes were scarlet, and maybe in the moonlight it turned red. His skin was pale, but not clammy.

"My friends left me, kind sir, and the men don't think I'm pretty enough for their liking," I replied, taking a sip. "Isn't that a shame. What might be your name, beautiful woman, so I may ask you to dance properly?" he asked with a smirk.

"Mrs. Wilhelmina Harker, if you may," I replied as he kissed my hand. "Ah, is your husband around?" he asked, leading me to the dance floor. "No, I'm afraid my dear Jonathan died," I said with my own smirk. "If I were him, I'd make a way for me to live forever, if I get to see you everyday, Mina, and realize you're my wife," he said while he twirled me.

I haven't flirted with anyone this good-looking in a while.

"Oh? And what would you do everyday when we'd be together?" I asked in a playful tone. "I'd tell you I love you, and I will continue loving you until the day that I die," he replied as he twirled me once more.

"What may be your name, so I can tell you that I love you too?" I asked while we got ready for the 'dipping' part. "Count," he began, steering us away from another couple. "Dracula," he concluded at the dip. My eyes widened.

He grinned at my stunned reaction, baring the proof to his testimony. His canine teeth looked sharp enough to puncture my skin. He pulled me back up. "Oh. It was a—pleasure dancing with you. You are quite good," I said softly.

"You are also quite the dancer, Mina. Do you not know?" he asked, leading me away. His eyes had that air of mystery and fury at the same time, and his voice, cold yet sophisticated, drew me in somehow. "Oh, I can't dance. No, I definitely can't dance," I replied, leaning against a wall post.

"Oh, but what you did back there was dancing. Quite fine dancing, if I might add," he said with a smirk. "Why Dracula, I'm afraid all you're doing is trying to flatter my ego," I said flirtatiously.

"Is it working, my fair Mina?" he asked, leaning in a little. Oh what the hell. He's cute, obviously he likes me, and he doesn't know my real name. Perfect!

"Why don't you find out for yourself? Such a smart man like you should be able to know if a woman like me is flattered by your pretty words," I replied seductively.

Oh just kiss me already, damn it! I want you already!

"Why of course, Mina, I certainly can," he said as he lifted my veil and finally put his lips to mine. His kiss was soft and sweet, then got filled with longing. It was like he wanted to kiss me from the day we met.

Without my permission, he entered my mouth. Likewise, I entered his. I could feel his "fangs" up there, and yet I didn't quite care.

He broke away from me, and I replicated the gesture. I giggled a little. "Why?" he asked, listening to my silent laugh. "I'm so sorry," I apologized, wiping away the red lipstick that showed on his lips. He chuckled, and took my hand away and kissed it. I blushed and pulled my veil back down.

"Take off your mask for me, will you, Mina?" he whispered in my ear. If I had a mirror and I wasn't wearing any makeup, my face would've drained of all color. "I-I can't. I apologize. I'll get kicked out," I replied breathlessly. Without prior warning, he took off his mask. I knew his features were familiar. The blond hair, the arrogant demeanor, the programmed style and finesse.

Draco Malfoy stood there, staring at me, holding my hand. "Well, Wilhelmina Harker? Who are you really? You must be a Slytherin, from what you know about balls and dancing and such. I know I've seen you somewhere else before. From school, and perhaps from summer."

I drew away my hand, unsure, confused, and disoriented. "I-I don't know you. At all. I'm nobody. Nobody at all," I turned away, but the damned high heels could barely make me walk. I felt the weight of the mask drop, and I scowled at the person who undid the ribbon.

Surprise surprise, Draco Malfoy strikes again.

His previously smirking face dropped into a severe scowl above any of those the Malfoys or any other Slytherin families had.

"You?" He stuttered, pointing a pale finger at me. "Yes, me! You were snogging me, yes, and I hate you for it!" I spat, slapping him. "You bloody whore!" he screamed, gripping my wrist.

"Why now, you brat? What did I do for me to achieve being Pansy?!" I snapped, forcefully trying to get my wrist away from him. "You drew me to you! You brought me into your bloody seductive spell and kissed me! You made me want you!" he screamed, making the rest of the still-sober people turn to us.

"I did no such thing! You acted of your own STUPID accord!" I finally drew my wrist away and managed to kick him. Down there, if you know what I mean.

"Fuck you!" he was screaming, but I ran away from him, rubbing away my makeup, taking off my hat, messing up my hair.

On my way back down to the dungeons, I stopped, and took off my heels. "Screw the man that created high heels!"

I spat on the seemingly expensive things, and ran into the common room. Ivy sat on the settee, then stood up once I slammed the door behind me.

"Felix-," she began, then I rushed toward her so she just hugged me. Mind you, I'm a lot taller than Ivy, but she still manages to hug me properly without telling me I'm too tall. I sat down on the armchair, the same one I chased Malfoy out of a few mere days ago.

"How could I be such a fool, Ivy?" I asked her as she returned to her place on the settee. "Felix, we all fall for him at some point," she said in an attempt to soothe me. "But I'm not 'all girls'! I'm Felix De Ford! My nickname is a boy's name! I play keeper on the quidditch team! I'm coldhearted and cruel! How could I fall for someone like him? How could I let him kiss me? How? Tell me, Ivy, how could I be so easy?" I was practically screaming at her now, telling her to tell me how I was so damn stupid.

"Do you want the truth or the Felix truth?" she asked, giving me options. The Felix truth was what I wanted to hear. Usually I asked for my truth. "Give me the truth. The whole truth, and nothing but the truth," I replied darkly. God, I sound like one of those oath thingies muggle lawyers make witnesses do.

"I think you let him have you was because you're alike. In more ways than one. Think of it, Felix: you both adore quidditch, both of you are driven by cunning and ambition, and as a matter of fact, you both have the best smirks in all of Slytherin house," she said with scared eyes, like I was going to bite her head off if she told me something I didn't want to hear.

I fumed for a moment, then put my attention back to Ivy. She sat there, like a little girl, scared shitless of a monster of some sort. "Dismissed," I nearly spat.

She stood up and scurried off to the dorm. I scratched my chin in thought. He and I do adore quidditch, I am driven by cunning and ambition, much like him; and I have to say, I have the best smirk in Slytherin house.

Save for him.

Damn it, why am I comparing me to him? We're clearly not on the same level, seeing as I'm definitely about a thousand times better.

And eugh, he fucks like a girl a day. Serious recycled trash here.

Ugh. A little bit below dresses, I hate recycled trash in terms of relationships. Someone walked though the door; I glanced there, ready to kill.

Speak of the devil.

"Oh, it's only you there," he said with a sneer. "Why, if it was Ivy, what were you planning on doing, Malfoy?" I asked, venom dripping certainly from my every word.

"Oh, nothing, just kiss her, then fuck her senseless," he replied nonchalantly. I stood up and drew my wand.

"If you dare—I pointed my wand at his chest—make any sexual advances to Ivy Stanford, my best friend, I remind you. I'll make it a point to cut off your dick personally."

He leered at me.

"I wait for that day to happen," he said, lowering my wand tip. "Why so, Malfoy?" I retorted, pointing it back to his chest. "So I'll finally get stripped off by the infamous Felix De Ford," he sneered.

"You disgust me," and I literally spat on him. "I love you too, Felix," he said with a faux-air kiss. I turned away from him angrily, and dashed into my dorm.

Yeah, screw you.

Ah, that was a lot of swearing and mature content. Want some more of that kind of chapter? Go tell me, then. And while you're at it, tell me what you want Draco to do to Felix. After all, you're the ones reading, right? Better you like it than just lil' old me.

My thanks,

Double Entente