1st December 1994
"You have been called here today," starts Snape. "To be informed of a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament, which shall take place on 25th December."
The tables of the Great Hall have been moved to the side, stacked against the walls as benches line around the four walls of the room, allowing Snape to float down the middle with his usual flowing, black robes. The students of Slytherin house, fourth years and above, sit scattered about on the benches, emphasising the different cliques of Mallory's very own house.
Whilst Mallory sits on the edge of Draco's large group of friends, with Amara clinging on to the very same group beside her, she's thankful to not be caught in the corners, where solitary pupils sit.
Upon Snape's words, she sits up straighter, more interested in her professor's words now than she's ever heard in any Potions lesson and wonders if, finally, it will be revealed why everyone, Narcissa and Lucius included, is convinced that Mallory will remain at school over Christmas.
"That tradition is the Yule Ball, a dance, and it will be taking place for those students from forth year and above," scattered laughs, mocking dance moves and gasps alight the Slytherins, causing Snape to snarl at the interruption.
But, at the back of the hall, Professor Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkle at the immediate excitement in the room.
"Quiet," Snape snarls.
It works for the majority of the Slytherins and Mallory covers her lips with the back of her hand in order to contain her own giggles as Amara stuffs her face into Mallory's sleeve. She feels her best friend shaking with the silent, excited laughs.
"This is a sacred tradition, which is why Professor Dumbledore would like us to practice the opening waltz of the ball." Dumbledore nods when Snape gestures to him. Mallory catches Draco roll his eyes at their headmaster. "I am confident, however, that no student from the house of Slytherin will engage in any behaviours that will besmirch the name of Salazar Slytherin or Hogwarts."
At the back of the room, seventh year Slytherins begin to feign lap dances, hooting and whistling as once more, Dumbledore's mouth twitches and Snape marches across the room. He hauls one of those boys up by the scruff of his collar, Barnes, insisting that he and his friends will be the ones to demonstrate the waltz to the rest of their house. Their smirks remain as Snape picks students to dance with them, choosing those who can't contain their giggles and, gesturing to the record player with his wand, they begin to waltz.
"As I am sure you have noticed, many of you will be at an advantage of having known the waltz prior to this.I only imagine there will be certain houses unable to demonstrate the difference between a fox trot and a waltz."
"Maybe Snape could show us the difference between a fox trot and a waltz?" Mallory whispers to Amara, still hiding her lips behind her hand so that her Head of House doesn't notice her jokes. From across the room, Dumbledore's lips twitch into a smile and she wonders whether he has heard her.
"You may ask your dates," more cheers ensue as Mallory's stomach churns with the news.
"Do you think Snape will have a date?" She jokes, covering her overwhelming nerves with another mock of her Head of House.
"To the Yule Ball, where formalwear will be required."
"Do you think Snape's a tops and tails man or he'll prefer a ball gown?"
"BLACK!" He roars her name from across the room, marching with venomous fury as he gestures for her to stand. She wonders if she were a seventh year boy she'd be hauled up by him too. "Up."
Amara untangles their arms, bringing her bottom lip into her mouth as she continues to attempt at suppressing her amusement.
"Perhaps you'd now like to demonstrate the traditional waltz that will be performed at the Yule Ball." He gestures for the seventh years Slytherin to sit, who up until now had been the entertainment for the Slytherins, and points to the centre of the hall.
She stands, already knowing that her face is a blushing bright red. If anyone is laughing, she can't hear it as she walks, focusing on not tripping over her own feet as she reaches the point that Snape had gestured towards.
"Well, dance."
For an awful second, she wonders whether she will have to demonstrate the dance with Professor Snape, but then realises that Snape is surveying the Slytherin students.
"Malfoy, dance with your family. I hear this particular brand of stray is your family's responsibility."
Mallory immediately hears snorts from many corners of the room as Draco's pale, white neck deepens into a dark red as he listens faithfully to Snape, his favourite Professor, and makes his way to Mallory.
Even Blaise can't suppress his uncomfortable smile.
"Perhaps you can help Miss Black here to toe the line." He hisses the words, vindictively smiling when Draco, without words, pulls Mallory into the proper position. Unlike the seventh year Slytherins, they'd grown up with Narcissa Malfoy, who had insisted they know the current stance, timing and moves just as she had been raised as a Black.
"Notice, Malfoy's stance, right hand on the waist and left hand holding her right hand up. Very good, Draco, enough to make Black here look like less of a slovenly buffoon."
Draco snorts, blowing air across Mallory's face as she huffs in frustration, easily following Draco's lead.
"Next the creepy cousins will be kissing."
The voice is much louder than the others and even though many of the Slytherins mock them, it is this particular comment that causes Mallory to drop her hands from Draco's. Rather than the flush in her cheeks continuing due to overwhelming embarrassment, Mallory watches as the walls turn red and Dumbledore's childish grin disappears with every march that she takes towards the seventh year. He leans against the back of his chair, his legs stretched out ahead of him but sits up with alarming speed as he realises that he is her target.
With rage as her fuel she pulls her wand from her robes, uncaring that he's two years older, smarter and stronger than her.
"Densaugeo!" She yells, uncomprehending of the consequences of hexing a fellow student in the presence of her head of house and headmaster. It's a spell she'd heard Draco had used on Hermione Granger last month, and whilst watching as he moves, panicking, his hands to his mouth, glaring at her as his focus remains only on himself.
Draco pushes Mallory away from the fury of the seventh year's friends and Snape roars with anger whilst Dumbledore ends the hex swiftly and wordlessly.
She doesn't enjoy the way his ever-growing teeth snap back into his mouth for long enough before she jumps at the roar of Professor Snape.
"BLACK." Snape's voice rips through the hall, so only the whimpers of the seventh year, Barnes, can be heard.
"Perhaps we should go to my office, Professor Snape," Dumbledore suggests, his eyes at the door of the Great Hall. "Without… an audience."
Blushing hard, she turns to the door of the Great Hall, where many other houses have gathered at the door. Red, blue and yellow laugh at the Slytherin, whilst giving Mallory a wide berth as she follows Professor Dumbledore wordlessly, who leads her to his office.
"Well? What are you staring for? Barnes- hospital wing. The rest of you- away!"
The walk towards Dumbledore's office, though short, feels longer than the walk up to the Divination classroom, or even the astronomy tower. Students passing watch them curiously with heads craning to see if there's any interaction between the headmaster and the sullen Slytherin tailing him. Dumbledore is without his signature twinkle in his eye, Snape frowns in fury and Mallory nervously chews on the inside of her mouth.
"Now, Miss Black, I think you know why we have asked you to come here." Dumbledore starts. It's the first time she's ever been in Dumbledore's office, her eyes raking over the numerous volumes of books that decorate the shelves in his room; would any of them help her in her quest for disillusionment? She remembers for a moment that the Headmaster had taught McGonagall Transfiguration.
Then, a look back at Snape's venomous scowl brings her back to the issue at hand.
"I just… saw red, I guess, Professor Dumbledore."
"Severus? Mallory is in your house-"
"But I am sorry." Mallory cuts off, only realising afterwards that she had spoken over Albus Dumbledore himself. He doesn't seem annoyed that she's done this, she realises. In fact, his eyebrows arch in surprise. She wonders whether he's ever heard a Slytherin apologise so readily. "I just didn't like all of the attention."
She doesn't look at Snape, wondering whether Dumbledore would agree that yes, Snape had added too much attention to the young girl.
"And I didn't like dancing with Draco."
"Yes, I imagine you will have done much of that during your childhood, being raised by Narcissa Black." He pauses, eyes studying her closely and though it's the first time she's ever spoken to Professor Dumbledore, she realises that he probably knows much more about her than she does about him.
She even wants to ask him if what Lucius always says is true; did his father hate muggles, too? Is Dumbledore really just pretending in order to keep his job? It would help her to understand why some may hate muggles and others love them as if they belong.
"Nevertheless," he continues, "hexing a fellow student is not permitted, as you well know, regardless of motive and Professor Snape shall be the one to determine your punishment. Severus?"
"Well Professor Dumbledore," Snape starts, folding his arms as if he's won a hidden victory and he finally smiles genuinely. "I'd imagine you would disagree with Miss Black being banned from the Yule Ball itself?"
"I think from her apology that Miss Black is aware of her actions. No need to remove her from such an important event of Hogwarts' modern history. Would you agree, Severus?"
"Very well, Miss Black, I imagine five weeks of detentions will be sufficient, due to being unable to handle your temper... and ego." Snape adds his final words with a snarl.
Mallory gasps at the sight, as her Head of House shows his obvious disdain for her, so readily in front of Professor Dumbledore. Dumbledore chuckles sadly, promising to keep a closer eye on Mallory as she is shut out quickly from his office.
Though the disappointment from her Professors is apparent, the admiration from Slytherin house is overwhelming when she returns to the common room. Barnes, the Slytherin who now has normally-shaped teeth after being fixed by Madam Pomfrey, apologises to Mallory upon re-entering the common room, as older Slytherins cheer her name and ask for a repeat of the duel. Though well-aware that her fifth year magic could not hold up against a seventh year if he's actually expecting the hex, she jokes away the calls.
"Where did you learn that hex?" Blaise asks when she finally returns to the usual corner of the Slytherin common room reserved for fourth and fifth years.
"Draco," she gestures to her not-brother who smirks. "I'd heard you used it on Granger and I guess it must've stuck in my head."
"Got to say, looks much better when it's used against mudbloods," Crabbe guffaws as he jokes. "The mudblood criedwhen he used it."
"I'm pretty sure Mallory got some tears from Barnes, too." Blaise gushes, tapping Mallory's back. "Dinner-time?"
"Sure." She agrees, following Blaise loyally, even as he immediately begins to joke about leaving his teeth alone, given the amount of jokes he's made about her bizarre living situation over the years.
"So, is there anyone you're planning to ask to this Yule Ball?" Mallory asks as they climb the staircases towards the Great Hall.
"Nah, just want to make sure she's someone I'll have a good time with. Anyone caught your eye?"
"Nah." She echoes, ignoring even the flicker of a daydream that threatens to enter her consciousness. "As long as I never have to dance with Draco again, I'll be good."
Would her green velvet dress bought from Madame Modiste in Hogsmeade clash too strongly with red hair?
"Mallory!" She jumps at the calling of her voice, just as her and Blaise reach the double doors of the Great Hall.
Her grey eyes narrow at the boy who approaches them. Blaise raises his eyebrows at the red and gold tie. He smirks as if he's Viktor Krum approaching his fan club, and Mallory turns to double-check there's a less-Slytherin Mallory who happened to be behind her.
Perhaps that Mallory is a Hufflepuff.
"Did he just say your name?" Blaise whispers, watching him warily. "How many Gryffindors are you friends with?"
"Zero!" She hisses back, warily watching the blonde boy as he finally reaches her. She steps forwards two steps, just far enough that Blaise will be both separate from them and able to overhear their conversation.
"Cormac," he offers his hand and it's only after taking it that she realises that he's giving her his name.
"Mallory?" She replies with uncertainty, since Cormac had already used her name to gain her attention.
He's about the same height as her, though much wider and there remains a certain, arrogant smirk on his face. She wonders whether his confidence has grown as her uncertainty becomes clearer to him.
"I heard about what you did in the Great Hall to Barnes. Very cool." He continues, and she wonders whether he wants thanking for his compliment. She nods instead because it was cool. "Basically, with this Ball coming up, I was wondering whether you wanted to go."
"I was planning on going, yes." She responds, hoping that this stranger, and Gryffindor, isn't really asking her this.
"Well… would you like to go together?" He asks, smirking wider. She hears a snort and realises that Blaise is already laughing at the situation she has landed herself in. "As my date."
"Right...um…" She looks around and though many students watch them with curiosity, no one seems prepared to jump into their conversation in order to save her.
From behind, she can feel Blaise's presence. But knowing him as well as she does, he'll want to hear how she'll get out of it. The longer it takes, the more material for jokes that he will have.
"I don't really know you?" She poses it as a question, much more polite than her instinct to ask why me, why me, why?
"Well we could look at it as a way to get to know each other?" He suggests, smirk remaining. She wonders what it will take to remove it. "I know deep down you want to say yes."
"No, I don't." She finally says, waiting for the smirk to disperse.
It does, slowly.
"Sorry." She apologises, though not really meaning it. I just felt like what she's meant to say. "I'm not very interested in getting to know you. Especially, as I feel that my green would clash with red."
Beside her, Pansy Parkinson cackles, as if involuntary, showing both Mallory and Cormac that they are overheard in their conversation.
"Bye." She mutters, not even waving as she tugs Blaise's arm, who had begun to shrug at Cormac when he raised his eye to watch the two of them.
"She smells, anyway. You don't want to be around that!" Blaise shouts, grinning widely as Mallory blushes further, leaning her head down to the ground so that her curls can cover the clear embarrassment on her face. "Oh look, here comes another Gryffindor after your heart." He mutters and she immediately looks up, hoping that it is the only Gryffindor she can stand.
There he is, red hair, freckled face and chocolate, kind eyes. She smiles despite herself, knowing that engaging him in conversation will only lead to more mockery from her best friend, and probably the rest of Slytherin house.
She's aware that Pansy Parkinson follows her, still cackling.
He opens his mouth to speak the closer that he reaches them, without his usual smile that she has been accustomed to seeing him with.
"S'cuse me," he excuses himself, squeezing himself between Mallory and the end of Hufflepuff table and, still without his smile, she finally realises the reason that it's gone.
That isn't Fred Weasley.
"No longer friends, are we?" He jokes, looking over his shoulder, not realising that George Weasley is not a person that Mallory has ever spoken to. And the fact that it means Fred has always greeted her with a smile, takes away the embarrassment of her conversation with Cormac the Gryffindor.
"Did he really ask you to the Yule Ball?" Screeches Pansy Parkinson as they finally reach the Slytherin table.
Many of them have uncontrollable grins plastered across their faces and snort into their pumpkin juices.
"Yeah. Weird." Mallory responds, sitting beside Pansy. "I'm not too sure why he'd want to go with me."
"You're charming the Gryffindors, Mal!" Amara laughs, nudging her as she speaks.
The Slytherins laugh again, cackling at the thought of Mallory, Slytherin, attending the Yule Ball with a Gryffindor.
"I had no idea you were such Gryffindor bait, Black." Blaise jokes, helping himself to the food already spread across the table.
"Okay, shut up about it now, Blaise." She directs the order towards her best friend, hoping that it will also cause those younger Slytherins to quieten too.
It doesn't work.
6th December 1994
Mallory 'Gryffindor Bait' Black becomes well-known across Slytherin for having been the first to publicly reject a date request for the Yule Ball. Gryffindor ties are tossed around her neck by vindictive seventh years, led by Barnes the normal-toothed Slytherin, and Draco especially enjoys parading his not-sister past Gryffindors to remind them that she is Slytherin property.
The five days that follow from Cormac's request leaves lofty looks towards her from the Gryffindors, as the Slytherins take her rejection as a collective House victory against Gryffindor. Perhaps with the extra attention that Gryffindor is receiving from having a Hogwarts Champion, she wonders how desperately Slytherin needed this particular, strange victory.
For the Gryffindors, scowls are sent in Mallory's direction far more than usual. Whilst she catches Harry Potter and his gang of friends looking at her much more than usual, the entire populus of Gryffindor seem to have taken her rejection of Cormac personally.
She notices, thankfully, that those that glare do not include Fred, or even his twin George, who seem to have disappeared from her sight for the past few days.
The worst time of all, is in those rare moments where Cormac and Mallory can be seen in a close vicinity, usually in the public arena of the Great Hall.
Ooh, is it awkward for you McLaggen?
Don't walk too near Black or he'll be asking you out all over again.
Though it is nice for Mallory to not be the one being mocked for asking somebody out, she wonders how much Cormac may now regret his decision.
It also makes her fear, for a few days, that it will scare anyone else off from asking her.
During the cooler Christmas evenings, Amara had begun to drag her out into the courtyard, since there had been a rumour that Viktor Krum had been doing laps of the courtyard as part of his fitness regime. So, head-to-toe in Slytherin green, just in case any other misguided Gryffindors forget about the merciless mocking of her house, she accompanies Amara, shivering and missing the library.
"At least one person has asked you," Amara tells her.
The two sit on a bench opposite the fountain, with Mallory attempting to disillusion the laces on her shoes as quickly as possible.
"Yeah but… does it even matter if I said no?"
"Yes!" She answers, feeling through the air for the lace that Mallory successfully disillusioned, not showing her admiration for the show of magic from Mallory. "See it as a sign that people do want to ask you. I don't have that luxury."
"Maybe that's a sign that you should ask out who you want to be asking you out," Mallory replies, now furthering her concentration onto the buttons of her coat, grinning when they disappear with ease. "Maybe Viktor Krum likes a forward woman."
"But imagine how mortifying it would be if he said no," Amara gasps, still absent-mindedly twirling Mallory's laces around her fingers, which have now reappeared. "I can't be the girl who Viktor Krum turned down."
"I imagine there's already a few of them," Mallory points out, watching as a group of younger Slytherins enter the courtyard.
They notice her immediately, shoving each other and laughing and Mallory pulls down on her Slytherin hat in an attempt to hide herself from them. "Why is everyone still going on about this 'Gryffindor bait'?" She complains to Amara now. "Is it so hilarious that someone asked me out? Even if it's a Gryffindor."
"I don't think they're laughing at you," Amara tells her and Mallory is tempted to point towards that group of Slytherins who are still looking over at them. "It's more just the situation. Plus, it's probably a good thing. It will scare away anyone that isn't serious about asking you."
As if summoned by her words, one of those younger Slytherins pushes his way out of the group, walking across the courtyard. Amara begins to chuckle, as if knowing already what is to happen and Mallory narrows her eyes, immediately recognising Marcus Belby.
"Oh Merlin," Mallory whispers under her breath, knowing the confident look is not entirely different from Cormac's a few days ago.
She resists the urge to transfigure him into a red-headed Gryffindor.
Though, she'd probably receive some house points from McGonagall if she were successful in that impressive feat of magic.
He blushes the closer that he gets to them, waving at her and she realises that maybe he's not as arrogant as Cormac.
"Hi Mallory,"
"Marcus." She greets, trying her very best to give him a polite smile as he finally reaches the two girls.
He blushes a deeper scarlet red when Amara snorts.
She realises he's closer in colour now to Gryffindor than before.
"I just wondered if you wanted to go to the Yule Ball with me?" The words tumble from his mouth before Mallory can put them back for him, freezing in the cold air between them, as if waiting for her words to warm them up like a furnace with her reply. "Obviously, I think we would have a good time together. But also, I think our families will think it's a good match."
"Our families?" Mallory repeats with uncertainty.
"Well, our fathers know of each other, my parents want me to ask somebody else from good magic and blood-"
"So you ask me?" Mallory laughs, knowing that never before has she been considered to have good blood.
"I know you're technically a Black, and that probably means that not many people want to go with you. But my parents-"
"Excuse me?" Amara interjects, having listened in on their conversation before now with heightened amusement. "Not many people want to go with her?"
"That came out wrong," he excuses, holding his hands up.
From across the courtyard, the younger Slytherins begin to laugh at Marcus' failing attempts.
Mallory considers what would happen if she agrees to go with Marcus Belby.
He's not unattractive, but tall, well-groomed and of course, he's a Slytherin, which will take away any more mockery as the Gryffindor Bait. They'd probably have a nice time, where he'd dance with her, assuming he'd been trained in dancing just like she and Draco have.
The Malfoys, like Marcus says, wouldn't have very much of an issue if she went to the Yule Ball with a Belby.
Certainly, there are other wizarding names at school which would elicit a stronger reaction.
"I meant that she may not have much of a choi-"
"Mallory, please can you tell this snake," Usually, in Slytherin house, snake could be used as a term of endearment. As Amara hisses at him, fiery tongue ready to burn him, Mallory knows that she does not mean to pay Marcus any such compliment. "Why he's chosen exactly the wrong words."
"Sorry Marcus." She apologises, then wonders why on earth would she need to be sorry? "I'm sorry that not even a lowly Black, will be agreeing to go to the Yule Ball with you. Next time you might have to set your sights even lower than me."
"Fair enough," he responds, trying to appear unbothered by her rejection, even as his cheeks flush red and he pulls his friends away, laughing, out of the courtyard.
No sooner than Marcus has departed, as Amara seeks to control her laughter and Mallory breathes deeply to calm her emotions, but a further voice interrupts them.
"Perhaps at Hogwarts, they do not teach many manners?" Amara's laughter slips away, watching as the boy, clearly from Durmstrang, sits beside them on the bench.
An act not even Marcus Belby had been so bold to do.
Like many of the Durmstrang students, he has dark eyes, which are framed by the furs which wrap around his neck. He smirks at her, much like Cormac had done when he'd asked her to the Yule Ball. Her heart drops as he inserts himself into their conversation.
The only hope is that Mallory is certain she's never spoken to him before, so he surely must be there to speak to Amara.
"Perhaps you require a more decent man to accompany you to the Yule Ball?" He suggests, "I would be happy to escort you."
"Do you even know my name?" Mallory asks, as she wonders whether she has met the boy before.
His smirk falters slightly, so clearly, he's less confident than Cormac had been but still he remains seated beside them, rather than scarpering like Marcus Belby.
He bites his lip, laughing, which when the breath is let out, creates a presence of white smoke between them.
"Perhaps you can tell me when you agree to-"
"Sorry." Mallory interrupts immediately, before he can continue his current sentence. "I'm sure you'll find someone. Let's go back inside, Mar."
She tugs on her friend to follow her.
There are still many Slytherins within the courtyard, who are laughing at the obvious new rejection from Mallory Black.
"You have all of the luck!" Amara giggles, following Mallory's clear intention to go to the library. They walk down past the Great Hall, where some students are using the weekend to study.
Mallory catches a glimpse of red hair, wondering whether she should go for exactly what she wants and ask him to go with her. But, if he hasn't asked her yet, it probably isn't going to happen.
To stop herself from hoping, she imagines that she would have as awful a time with Fred Weasley as she would with her three other prospects.
Arrogant as Cormac, where the entire evening would be filled with jokes about the Gryffindor bait, who somehow had dragged a Gryffindor to the Yule Ball. Draco would be furious, along with letters she'd no doubt receive from Narcissa.
If he were as awful as Marcus Belby, he'd be insisting on what a good match they are. It wouldn't be a fun time but an opportunity to show each other off; a Black has snagged a Weasley, or vice versa.
And, the nameless Durmstrang. Well, maybe his confidence is a sign that he'd have a good time. But, perhaps he'd only asked her to prove a point, that Durmstrang is better than Hogwarts. Maybe, Fred would see their date as proof that against the Malfoys, the Weasleys have won.
Yes, maybe it's for the best that she's remaining dateless.
"Three strange people have asked me to the Yule Ball and I said no to all of them. No, I don't have all of the luck."
"We're at 3 for 0 right now, Mal!" She complains, pouting like a child who has been told that it's bedtime. "Maybe I should ask Viktor Krum."
"There's a definite chance he'd say yes." Mallory tells her, linking their arms together. "But, there's also a chance he'd be left wondering who you are. That's how I just felt when Random Durmstrang Boy asked me."
"True," Amara says, pouting even further.
"If you asked me, I'd be saying yes." Mallory tells her, in a way to put a smile back onto her best friend's face. "You're smart, funny and absolutely beautiful. Plus, I've already seen your dress and I think your satin red and my velvet green would go well together."
"Looks like we're now at 3 to 1, then." She smirks, as they reach the library doors. "You know, actually," she pauses at the door. "Let's leave the Viktor Krum stalking for one evening."
"But what if tonight is the night he finds his date?" Mallory asks with fake surprise.
"Meh." She shrugs, pulling Mallory away from the door. "You've had a tough afternoon, let's go."