DISCLAIMER: I am not JK Rowling, nor do I own Harry Potter. All ideas are my own.
Dread, noun, meaning great fear or apprehension, the current feeling that has bewitched my body.
Now that the time has come, the moment is finally here, I feel worse than when Malfoy chucked me off of that broom and left me in hospital for days on end.
And given how many injuries he left me with, that is saying something.
I don't know why I dread this particular ball so much, especially given the fact that this is my 5th time round, so I should be used to it by now, used to the glitter, the glam, the horrendous fake pretence and smiles that grace everyones faces.
Okay, maybe that's a lie. Of course I know why I'm dreading this ball, the moment I step through those doors I will be faced with too many obstacles that I'm not sure if I can over come them.
But hey, surely it can't be any worse than previous years? Right?
One year I spent the entire ball crying my eyes out in the girls bathroom, muddy mascara tears leaking down my face as I sobbed into a dirty and stained handkerchief.
Okay maybe it was last year. But who's counting? Someone had spiked the punch and me being me, and only being 15 I'd like to add, practically inhaled it and then proceeded to throw the entire of my stomach contents up.
So to be honest, this ball cannot be any worse than last, no way.
Yes I know that I've got a big task ahead of me, and yes it's going to be terrifying, but I can handle myself in situations and believe that I'll be able to succeed.
Well that's what I've been telling myself, if I think positive then I'm sure we'll all come to the conclusion we want.
Because, as much as Mr Malfoy will hate to admit this, I actually have the upper hand here. I have his wife's engagement ring sitting on my finger, and we can't get it off, and unless he tries to kill me (which to be honest, wouldn't surprise me), it will stay that way unless we work together.
And if he doesn't, then tough luck, I will have the ring for all of eternity.
But do I want that? No. As much as this ring is absolutely stunning, I'd feel morally wrong keeping it on my hand knowing that it belongs to someone else. I'd also feel terrible for my future husband, knowing that someone else's ring sits on his wife's finger, and there is nothing anyone can do to get it off.
I'm trying to ignore the fact that it would also constantly remind me of Malfoy, but then again I don't need a piece of jewellery on my finger to think about him at the moment.
The boy has continued to grace my thoughts, well more like haunt my nightmares, and I just can't seem to escape his face.
No matter where I look, even when I close my eyes, all I see is his handsome smirk staring back at me, lo and behold sometimes I even feel like I can smell him.
I know that sounds insane, which is why I've kept it to myself, but it's true, and I'm genuinely beginning to question my sanity.
Or at least I started to do that a while back, when I first realised that I may slightly like Malfoy more than I'm letting on. Now that I'm at this stage though, I might as well check myself into St Mungos while there is a chance I could be saved.
Only 2 more years, I keep telling myself. Actually now it's Christmas it's more like a year and a half. A year and a half until I leave this place, and leave him behind, that's if this ring will let me.
One of the best things about leaving something or starting a fresh, is that you can create a new life and have a fresh sheet. You can leave all of those people behind that have caused your harm and malice, knowing you never have to see them again.
Yes, the knowledge that once you leave, you're never ever going to meet these people again is scary just as much as it is exciting, but if it's meant to be, it will be.
That cringed me out saying that, as I'm not one who really believes in fate or destiny, I'm as shit at Astronomy as my mum was, but I do think that everything happens for a reason, and if you find someone again, they were meant to be found.
Look at me getting all soppy, if I try any of this shit in front of Mr Malfoy I'll probably be booted into the next century.
Pull yourself together Rose. All you have to do is walk down these steps and you're there.
Oh god. I can't do this. The thought of stepping through those grand doors is sending shivers down my spine, I have physically gone cold. Fitting I suppose as it is a Winter Ball, but I've just remembered too that my family are going to be there, and how the hell am I meant to get a moment with Malfoy if they're watching me like a hawk, as they do every year.
Wait wait wait. I don't mean a moment as in a moment, but just time to speak to him. I'm planning on ignoring Malfoy as much as humanly possible tonight, I'd rather be anywhere but looking into his piercing eyes in his dapper suit which only helps to make him even more sexy oh my god Rose shut up will you.
Tonight is less about fun, more about business. Think about it like a business operation, I'm an Auror trying to uncover secrets on my latest suspect.
But then again, there is a reason I'm not training to be an Auror, nor why I have any desire to be one.
One being I'm just as clumsy as my Dad, meaning I'd just fuck it up at any given moment, and two being, well, I'd just be shit.
Let's leave it at that eh.
One more step Rose, come on, you're nearly there, only one tiny shuffle and you'll be through those doors and your night will have begun.
The normally bare halls and corridors of Hogwarts are swamped in an array of gold, red, silver, blue, emerald and so on. For a second it crosses my mind that, actually, this just looks like a fancy Quidditch match, what with all of us dressed in our house colours, but I disregard the thought instantly, as everyone is shimmering and shining with such grandeur and class it's impossible to think that this is anything but stunning.
Unlike previous years, where the teachers have gone for an ice ball sort of look, this year they've gone completely opposite, and the moment I step into the scene I'm hit with the fresh scents of pine trees and fern.
Holly and ivy snakes wind up each concrete pillar, disguising and camouflaging the walls and transforming them into a thick forest.
Mistletoe hangs from all corners of the ceiling, secretly intertwining and interrupting people's conversations with the promise of a kiss.
The elves are scurrying around as fast as their little legs will carry them, holding sycamore trays of what seems to be pumpkin juice (or at least I hope it is, tonight is not a night to get drunk).
But the thing that stuns me the most, so much so I actually hear myself gasp out loud, are the stars glinting and winking down at me from the blanket of ink above.
Having their own secret conversations, different arrays of constellations paint beautiful patterns, casting a low light across all of us below, but accentuating the glitter and shine of everyone's outfits.
Times like these I never want to leave Hogwarts. Sure, I've just been speaking about the excitement of starting a fresh and moving on, but the vast extent of magic and talent here is purely unmatched, never to be seen again, unless you're lucky enough to return as a teacher or a parent.
Despite all this beauty, something else catches my eye, instantly making me forget where I am, leaving me to swim in my own thoughts.
And by something, I mean him.
If I ever doubted that the classic Malfoy green was a good look for them, I am now kicking myself.
Dressed in a perfectly cut deep green suit, tailored exactly for his silhouette, I can tell the exact moment in which his eyes find me due to the cold shivers that run down my spine, making my hair stand on edge.
Regardless of noise, the people, the atmosphere, all I see is him. And that's how I know I'm in too deep, I've bitten off more than I can chew.
Without even thinking of where I am, well saying that I can't even comprehend logical thought at the moment, we both make our way towards each other.
Feeling the burn of my familys' eyes doesn't stop me, nothing can, the magnetism is too great to defy anything that tries to tamper with it.
That is until Mcgonnagall's voice, heightened by her sonorous charm, announces loudly that the first dance is about to take place.
And those exact words are like a cold knife to my heart, stabbing me deeply, forever to leave an everlasting scar.
From the faltering look that Malfoy has just given me, I can tell our hopes of seeing each other now are a lost cause.
When Mum used to describe the Malfoys and the Weasleys, she'd always say how much our warring families reminded her of Romeo and Juliet, a classic piece of literature that she forced me to read as a child.
Personally I prefer more of the political Shakespeare, take Measure for Measure for example, but I appreciated the novel all the same.
Anyway, every time she talked about it, she'd mention that both families are like the Capulets and Montagues, and all that was missing was the vital Romeo and Juliet, two star-crossed lovers forbidden to be together.
An essential detail indeed, the missing part, I'd always say to her, however I'm not so sure if this feature is still absent.
Of course I'm not saying we're star-crossed lovers, but something is now there. Something that I didn't want to be, something that I aimed and battled with myself, warring in my head, hoping my feelings would recoil and I didn't have to live with endless denial.
I just wonder why I didn't see it sooner. But then again I didn't want to.
Acceptance is a tricky thing to deal with. And it's a bitter potion that I've never been able to swallow. I don't really realise or acknowledge things, let alone accept it, until it blatantly hits me in the face, and then I can choose to fight or flight, run for the hills or stay and battle my corner.
Right now, as much as I want my legs to take off, I am preparing myself for a war.
Preparing myself for the fight to end, for the ring to come off, and for life to go back to normal… despite how much I don't want it to.
As the night continues, dancing away, as if imitating the numerous couples here tonight, I am no closer to getting this ring off of my finger, and finally being shot of Malfoy.
No, instead I've been dragged onto the dance floor, made to waltz with my Granddad, foxtrot with Teddy, and do the jive with Uncle George, and when I tell you my feet feel as if they are about to fall off, it is the understatement of the century.
I've managed to find a lone 5 minutes for myself, away from the chaos and madness currently gifted to Hogwarts' halls, 5 lone minutes for me to sit and stretch my feet.
But before long, I'm interrupted by the clipping sounds of footsteps making their way over to me.
I can tell they're coming towards me by the sound of the echos, and my thoughts are further confirmed by the shadowy silhouette flickering on the forest-clad wall.
5 minutes, that was all I wanted, 5 minutes to myself, not even to think about anything in particular, but 5 minutes for me, so I could escape.
That's another thing about the Christmas Ball, as it's tradition to invite parents and Hogwarts alumni, I am bombarded with my family and all their craziness. To be honest, I'm surprised my family doesn't take up the size of the hall alone, as every year along comes an extra cousin or half-uncle whom I haven't seen since I was about 5.
And as usual, my mum questions and interrogates me as if I'm in trouble, or hurt, or haven't read her letters. I knew she'd ask about that niche and insignificant detail she includes in her letters to see if I've been reading them, and lo and behold she did. But because I've got so used to her tricks by now, I made sure to memorise that letter just before I came into the hall so she had no chances of catching me out.
This year, I even decided to call her out on it, and tell her that it wasn't as sneaky as she thought it to be.
"Mum, I know you asked me to bring home those jumpers so Grandma Molly would think I've been wearing them, but I'm not a little girl anymore, I know when you're doing this just to check that I've actually read your letters"
"No no Rosie!", she answered in a shrill, high pitch voice, blushing furiously, "I don't know what you're talking about! I had to make sure you were bringing them as I knew the Potter clan were and I didn't want you to upset your Grandmother!"
Instead of dignifying that pathetic attempt of an excuse with an answer, I just crossed my arms and raised one eyebrow, a look I have perfected from imitating my mother, and I look I know she can't lie to.
"Okay okay. I'm just checking that you're reading them. I mean I don't want to go to all of this trouble of writing you these letters and not have you read them, I understand you're too busy to respond but that doesn't mean you can't at least read them!"
Bingo.
"I promise Mum, I do read your letters", I replied, hugging her and returning to the rest of my family, where Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny were waiting with champagne glasses for my parents.
"Hello Rosie!", Harry greeted me cheerfully, ruffling my hair and hugging me, "How have you been? We hear you've got a new boyfriend!"
"No no no Uncle Harry!", I replied laughing, whilst hugging Ginny, "That's not true in the slightest. To be honest I don't know where this has come from, seeing only a few people knew I was dating someone"
My Aunt and Uncle exchanged a sheepish look, clearly aware they had just dropped one of their sons, I'm guessing James, in it.
"Oh so you were dating someone!", Ginny teased, pinching my arm playfully, "There was some truth to the story!"
"If you can even call it dating!", I replied, "I was seeing someone for a couple of weeks but broke it off. It was hardly even a relationship."
"What's this about my daughter dating?", my Dad's booming voice announced, interrupting our conversation whilst slapping Harry heartedly on the shoulder.
"Nothing!", a mixture of voices replied in unison.
What I love about Harry and Ginny, amongst many things seeing as they are my Aunt and Uncle, is that they are so intune to my Dad and his habits that they know better than to drop the bomb that his daughter has been dating, even though it sounds like he's already known that from the sound of his letter.
"No no I'm sure I heard something!", he nudged me playfully. Clearly he has had too much to drink to be angered by the fact I've been seeing people, something I'm entirely grateful to Flitwick for sorting the drinks out.
"Oh for goodness sake Ronald leave her be!", my Mum fussed, sorting out my Dad's tie as she spoke, "You're the last person to lecture her on dating given your history at Hogwarts. Do I need to remind you of Lavender?"
I took that as my cue to leave. I've heard the bickering about my parents' previous love interests too much to care for another argument. It always starts off as a joke, but for some reason or another, it escalates to new heights.
And that's another reason I ended up here, sat by myself, or not anymore, given the rude intrusion of footsteps.
However, instead of feeling uneasy, or anxious, I feel calm, calm has now overtaken the initial feeling of frustration at the interruption of my peace and quiet.
It's a feeling of recognition that overwhelms me, that even though right now I can't see the shadowy silhouette, I immediately feel safe.
A sense of deja vu tucks me up in a warm blanket, encouraged by the warm hand on my shoulder.
I look up once more at the shapes before me, and my suspicions are confirmed instantly that it is him.
"What finds you here hey Red?"
Crisp and curt, yet soft and gentle, he addresses me in such a manner that it feels as if he's given me a comforting hug.
I don't turn, I just sit and stare at the wall, speaking to his shadow and not to him.
"It's too hot in there to breathe", I reply, hoping my answer makes sense as my head is far too scrambled to think clearly.
"You don't say"
His breath is warm and hot in my ear, he's clearly bent down close to my level and the tugging on my shoulder tempts me to turn around.
Sparkling and clear eyes gaze down at me, as he looks me up and down I feel vulnerable, and exposed, as if I am naked.
Our eyes speak for themselves, and for a moment I forget why we're meant to be talking tonight, and the whole point of our mission.
The noise and chatter of inside becomes muffled, and I can't work out if it's because I'm so lost in his eyes or if something is about to happen.
But then, once again, Mcgonagall's high-pitched voice appears. But for a second we don't stop looking at each other, can't stop even, until soft music begins to play.
"An odd request but one I'll accept anyway. The ball's sponsor, who wishes to be unnamed, requested this muggle tune. It's one of the last slow dances of the night so come on guys, get dancing!"
I am not the only traveller
Who has not repaid his debt
I've been searching for a trail to follow again
Take me back to the night we met
"Mcgonagall seems pissed", Malfoy laughs down at me, eyes twinkling.
"Yeah she does", I giggle in response, biting my lip.
His eyes flitter down, as he leans in, and the thought flitters across my mind that maybe, just maybe, he's about to kiss me.
Instead he takes my hand, and drags me up, whispering in my ear "Care for a dance?"
"Thought you didn't dance Malfoy", I retort, trailing my hand up and down his arm.
"For you I'll make an exception", he smirks back.
And then I can tell myself
What the hell I'm supposed to do
And then I can tell myself
Not to ride along with you
Smiling coyly, I reply, "Okay then", and as the music picks up and the chorus begins, he spins me into a slow dance, his hand on the small of my back and the other one clutching me as if he never wants to let go.
Our silhouettes are now painting a idyllic picture on the wall, I almost trip over our shadows which follow our every movement.
I had all and then most of you
Some and now none of you
Take me back to the night we met
I don't know what I'm supposed to do
Haunted by the ghost of you
Oh, take me back to the night we met
We move together seamlessly, two puzzle pieces finally ajoined, two broken lockets coming together to make one.
Twinkling lights dance with us, illuminating our faces in white moonlight, and never, once ever, do we break eye contact.
The song continues, and it's just us, swaying in unison, until the lyrics bring closure to the melody, bring closure to a moment I never want to end.
I had all and then most of you
Some and now none of you
The hand that once caressed the curve of my back now moves up towards my neck, where he plays with the curls at the nape of my neck.
Take me back to the night we met
Then he moves on to my neck, and my collarbone, stroking the place where they both meet.
I don't know what I'm supposed to do
Haunted by the ghost of you
And before I know it, his fingers are on my lips, stroking them gently.
I close my eyes for a moment, leaning into his other hand which has now clasped my neck.
I open them again, quickly, and am confronted with a burning in his eyes that I've never seen before. But it's not lust like usual, no it's something else.
Take me back to the night we met
We stand in silence once the song fades out, just making the most of eachothers company, the quietness a perfect afterthought to this moment.
That's until a cold drawl interrupts, snapping us both out of our reverie, and by the look on Scorpius's face, and the tone to this man's voice, I know exactly who it is.
"Fancy seeing you here Scorpius"
Out of the corner of my eye, I see platinum hair, and grey eyes, and that once all consuming feeling of dread, returns once more.
Hey guys! Long time no see!
I am so sorry for being absolutely rubbish at updating this story. Truth is I had an absolutely horrendous August due to sudden medical problems and I have been in and out of hospital, so have had no energy to write.
In other news, I got into my first choice University! I move 7 hours away from home this Saturday (18th September) which is absolutely crazy! The little energy I have had has been spent packing and saying goodbye to everyone.
I've started an instagram account for this story, so I can give you a set time and date of when I'll be able to update, as at the moment there is no way of me getting in contact with you guys besides publishing an authors note. Username is: notaprettysightstory
Thank you for all your kind reviews, I'm taking all of them into consideration which you will see in future chapters.
Again, I am so sorry to all of you for being so bad with updating, I promise to try and do better.
Until next time, take care.
E xx
Pissed - drunk
Song credits - 'The Night We Met' - Lord Huron