The funny thing is when I read the outline for the Yule Ball chapter, I had some many ideas that I decided to spilt it into two. This chapter was suppose to be the first half of the Yule ball and the other would be focused on the aftermath but then I realized the last chapter had a bit of a cliffhanger, there was also the fact it was Christmas and I wanted to explore that, and feature some interesting moments for the gang. So this chapter is the pre-Yule Ball. Next one will be the ball from start to finish. Hope you guys love this one
Fun fact: had to listen to my Christmas playlists to get into the holiday mood so I can work on it
Chapter 33: A Night to Remember
Envy was such an odd, curious thing. Sometimes it was surprising that the emotion wasn't considered magic itself.
It came in many forms. Like a shadow that followed your every move that couldn't be outrun. A virus that spread across the body, pulsing through every vein, till the system was flowing with it, burning like molten lava. Often a green monster that rooted in the chest, growing bigger in strength and size, its massive frame expanding till it finally burst out, growls booming from its mouth, fists swinging.
When Draco peeked around the corner and saw Harry and Lovegood talking, envy struck him. Not as a shadow or a green monster, but as a raspy-voiced, smug mistress clutching to his side, whispering in his ear to watch. He tried to fight off the words, to resist the urge, but it was hard to shake her off. Envy held him in a tight grip, instructing him to keep watching. To get closer.
Don't they make such a sweet couple, she chirped.
Anger blazed inside him, simmering as Harry exchanged a departing smile with his "date" before she skipped away. When Harry looked back and saw he was there, he wanted to disappear. To pretend as if he just walked in and didn't see a thing. Yet a strange, strong mixture of anger, envy, and even hurt moved his body off the wall, letting Lovegood's name slip out with a sharp edge that could cut through glass.
"Pansy." Harry reminded him with a frown.
The name of his date, the girl he was taking to the ball. He should have let the matter drop, moved on, but that name just made everything worse, causing those strange feelings to batter against his chest like fists.
So he did what he usually did best: he walked away, ignoring Harry calling his name.
By the time he reached the room, most of his envy blew away, the green-eyed mistress departing with a breath of cold laughter before she vanished. Anger was still there but the blade lessened to a dull edge. Hurt, though, remained, which made no sense since Harry made a good point. Pansy approached him before class and asked him to the ball. Draco accepted without much thought. Harry was in need of a date, a partner to share the first dance with. And if he was being honest with himself, Lovegood wasn't a horrible choice. Better her than a Veela Beauxbaton girl who'd use her allure on the poor boy-or a buffoon from Durmstrang.
And yet…he couldn't shake the strange feeling that collected in his chest like cobwebs.
Maybe because a part of you was hoping he wouldn't take a date, whispered a voice that was a mix between envy's alluring drawl and the taunting snicker of a feeling he couldn't quite name.
Ridiculous, Draco scoffed, and then frowned as he realized how weak the claim sounded, even to him.
He looked up from his hands that were folded on his lap, fingers laced together, to the door that softly pushed open. Harry entered the room, dropping his bag on the coffee table, shrugging off his robes.
"Are you over your piss-tudes or should I leave the room to give you and your ego time to work things out?"
Draco scowled but didn't protest, knowing he deserved the verbal blow. He breathed in and out, breaking apart his fingers, and said, "I know I can be a bit of a prat."
Harry scoffed, which caused Draco's scowl to tighten. "A bit?"
"You most definitely can be a git! And an idiotic one at that!"
"Better an idiotic git than a spoiled-rotten prat!"
Draco latched onto his bottom lip and bit down hard, nearly drawing out blood, knowing the next words that flew out his mouth might take the argument from mild to explosive. He took in breath after breath, slowly counting down from ten, trying to get his emotions under control and wipe that annoying image of Harry and Lovegood standing so close to each other, smiling, that kept flashing in his head.
By the time his anger was pushed away, Harry was seated at the other end of the bed, untying his shoes. Draco shrugged, which was sort of ridiculous since Harry couldn't see it, and said, "Well, I'm a prat and you're a git. Aren't we a pair?"
Harry shrugged with an air of indifference and kicked off his left shoe. He dropped his right leg on top of the other and worked on the other shoe. It was a response that didn't sit well with Draco. He crawled over to the other side, wrapped his arms around Harry, and laid his head on his shoulder.
"Despite it all, you're still my favorite person."
Silence met him but he still reached out, dropping a kiss on his cheek, feeling a small curve on the corner of his lip.
"Just like I'm yours."
At least he hoped he still was.
Harry undid his laces and kicked off the other shoe. He stared straight ahead at the wall for what felt like hours before he sighed and leaned into him, one of his hands covering Draco's. "Yes," he finally said. "Even though everyday I question why."
Draco dropped another kiss on his cheek, holding him tight. "Because I'm so pretty."
"Get the hell over yourself." Harry laughed, elbowing him away.
And just like that, the slate was wiped clean and things were fine again. Well, not completely since those odd, entangled feelings remained, throbbing inside like a fresh bruise, but Draco chose not to dwell on them, focusing on the fact peace was restored. And Harry was completely at his mercy as Draco pounced on him, burying the smaller boy underneath his weight and tickling the life out of him.
Christmas morning crept in with a fresh sheet of snow that coated the castle and school grounds pearly-white, looking so fresh and beautiful, like the perfect picture of winter heaven plastered on a holiday card. Draco cracked one eye opened, groaning at the beam of sunlight that leaked through the windows, hitting him right in the face. Snowflakes spilled from the sky like a heavy rain, so thick and lovely.
For a moment he forgot where he was. He was curled up in his nice, warm fortress of duvets and blankets. Harry was by his side, arm slung around Draco's waist, limbs entangled in each other. Just as it should be. But his senses slowly became more alert, picking up on details. Like the fact his bed was closer to the window than it usually was-and that the window was on the wrong side of the room. There was also another bed that sat on the other side, untouched. The decor of the room. Then he remembered.
This year he and Harry were staying at Hogwarts instead of going home for the holidays. Tonight was the Yule Ball where he was taking Pansy, Harry was taking dear Lovegood, which was going to be fantastic.
Draco felt his face curdling as if he tasted a sour lemon. He pushed back the unpleasantness and focused only on the pleasant. Like how beautiful the snow looked outside and how much they'd enjoy it later on. Like the fact it was Christmas, one of his favorite holidays, and the tree Harry insisted they add to the room was packed with so many presents just begging to be opened. Like how peaceful Harry looked sleeping beside him.
He watched the rise and fall of his chest that flowed in a steady rhythm. His black hair was even messier than usual, tousled and mussed from sleep. Harry snuggled closer into the pillow, more against him. Draco ranked a gentle hand through the messy mane, once again awed that hair as messy as Harry's could be so thick. Feel so soft. Harry murmured something in his sleep, shifting his body more towards him, moving his head onto Draco's arm.
His mouth pulled into a frown before his eyes blinked once, twice times, squinting from the brightness of the morning sun. With a half-groan, half-mutter, emerald-green slowly cracked open, astonishing Draco with their unique, startling color.
"Morning." Draco whispered.
Sleep slowly cleared from Harry's eyes as a tired smile touched them. "Morning."
"Happy Christmas." Draco leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his brow.
The smile shining in Harry's eyes crossed over to his lips. "Happy Christmas."
A yawn slipped from his mouth as he flipped onto his back, rubbing sleep from his eyes, stretching out his sore muscles. He pushed aside the blankets and moved down to the corner. Before he had the chance to swing his legs over the edge, Draco snatched him back, holding him tight.
"Hey!" Harry protested, trying to fight his way out.
Too bad for him Draco wasn't ready to let him go just yet, partially because he liked having his favorite pillow nearby, partially because he never pass up the opportunity to annoy Harry, which was a present in itself. "I think I want to rest a bit more."
"Great," Harry replied, still struggling. "I'll make sure to keep breakfast warm for you."
"Come now, Potter, you can't expect me to sleep without my favorite pillow, do you?"
"Draco!"
Ignoring the complaint, he laid his best friend flat on his back. He let out a loud, obnoxious yawn and settled his head on Harry's chest, putting most of his weight on the small boy, trapping him.
"Pain in the arse, spoiled prat." Harry mumbled.
Eyes sealed close, Draco smirked.
Above him, he heard a sigh and then felt a hand gently combing through his hair, the soft touch actually lulling him back to sleep.
Harry was still peeved an hour later about being kept prisoner but his annoyance lightened as house-elves came into the room and fixed them breakfast. Not as excellent as the breakfast buffet Dobby and the other elves fixed for them at the manor but it was still good. A towering stack of fluffy buttermilk pancakes and golden waffles they both drowned in maple syrup. Platters of muffins, scones, and cinnamon rolls. A large, piping-hot kettle of rich hot chocolate.
Harry's mood immensely brightened at the last bit of pancake and grew even more as they rushed over to the tree and tore through the wrapping paper and ribbons to unveil their presents. Fine clothes from Father and Mother that practically made up an entire wardrobe of winter clothes: cashmere jumpers, woolen robes and hats, even shoes and boots appropriate for the harsh weather. Severus gifted them both with books, for Harry more on Occlumency, for Draco more on Potions. Baskets of sweets from their friends, varying from cakes to candies to pounds of their favorite chocolate truffles. In addition to their candy baskets, Theo gave Draco a grooming kit that carried every hair product known to man while he gave Harry a library of close to two dozen books.
Granger seemed to follow Theo's gift-idea route and sent half a dozen books to Harry, adding more to his growing library. Lupin sent him a dozen more books and a wood carving of a wolf whose head was tilted up as if he were howling at the moon, partially shielding the smaller pup by its side. Black sent strange, thin disks Harry explained were albums, a tattered black leather jacket with chains and splotches of gray that looked like dust, and shirts featuring strange designs and quotes that were a bit of an eye-opener. Harry also received another Weasley sweater, the same jaded-green with the golden H in a slightly bigger size. Only this time Harry wasn't in a rush to put it on.
He stared at the sweater, folded it up, and set it aside with the other opened gifts. Draco couldn't help noticing that it sat inches away from the present pile, practically discarded. Just as he couldn't help feeling a small burst of pleasure pulsing in his chest from noticing that.
For their birthdays, they always prefer exchanging presents face-to-face. Christmas was no different. When they were little, they'd wait until their families met up at whoever was hosting the Christmas dinner and wait till they were excused from the table to swap presents. Since Harry came to live with Draco's family, they waited until all the other gifts were opened before they opened the ones they got for each other.
As the saying goes: best saved for last.
Draco's eyebrows quirked in curiosity as Harry handed him a large blue-tinted box with snowmen plastered on it. Inside were cookies, delicious-looking cookies stuffed with chocolate chunks and peanut butter, still warm with the help of a heating charm. It was sweet and all, made Draco's stomach rumble from inhaling the fresh-baked scent, but he didn't expect treats from Harry as a present.
"Try it." Harry smiled.
Draco frowned, but picked up a cookie, taking a small bite. Then in a nanosecond, his eyes widened and his jaw nearly dropped open. Sweet Jesus, he didn't realize how incredible melted chocolate and warm peanut butter tasted thrown together. Then realized there was only one cookie that could taste so good. "Aunt Lily's!"
Harry nodded, his smile brightening. "I was stuck on what to get you. Somehow one of Mum's old cookbooks fell into my hands and I remembered how much you loved her chocolate peanut-butter cookies. You used to eat them by the pound."
"Did not." Sure, he sometimes ate as much as his hands could grab. There were even a few times he polished off three rows of cookies after Aunt Lily took them out of the oven. Times even where he finished off a whole plate. But he did have self-control, one that was better managed compared to Uncle James.
The teasing glint twinkling in Harry's eyes told him he didn't believe a word of his protest. "Anyway, I followed the recipe and made about two dozen. Enough to last you for a good…two minutes."
"Har-har, Potter." Draco lightly punched his arm.
The teasing glint twinkled mischievously. "So did I succeed?"
Draco nodded, letting etiquette be damned, shoving a whole cookie into his mouth. A few times house-elves tried their hand at making the cookie, but it wasn't the same. They either put too much peanut-butter, not enough chocolate. Burnt the sweets entirely or didn't melt them enough. Made them too thin instead of plump like he liked them. Harry got the recipe down to a T, making them just as wonderful as Draco remembered which wasn't all that shocking since he was the son of the great mastermind behind the treat.
"You definitely succeeded." Draco stuffed another one into his mouth.
"Glad to hear." Harry grinned and then reached inside the box for a cookie.
"Hey!" Draco slapped his hand away. "Mine!"
"Greedy prat."
Draco leveled his eyes with him. "You of all people, Potter, should know how possessive I can be. I don't share."
Especially you, a voice hissed. An urgent, almost-ugly sound, laced with a great need that startled him.
Harry looked just as stunned, almost as if he could hear it, shifting his body just the tiniest bit away from Draco.
"So," he said, his voice light but Draco detected a forced strain behind it. "Where's my gift?"
Draco polished off another cookie and wiped his hands to clean off the crumbs. He then stood up from the floor and offered Harry his hand. Harry eyed it for a second or two, but accepted it, using Draco's arm to pull himself off the ground, then followed him out the door.
It was still early in the morning, so there weren't too many people in the hallway or the common room. There were less people out in the halls. Draco and Harry made their way through the halls and staircases up to the music room that was closer to the Ravenclaw's tower. It was one of his favorite rooms in the castle.
The main room was wide, open with enough space to fill in a whole house, decorated in smooth porcelain-white and dove-gray stoning. Instruments of all sorts from glistening-gold horns, chestnut cellos, and sterling flutes were stored by the walls or grounded by their stands. In one corner were three rows of black chairs lined up on top of each other where Flint must hold rehearsal for choir and band. The room was divided into three floors, the first floor reserved for the main practice, the other floors were broken up into rooms small enough for privacy but still big enough, already supplied with instruments that were soundproof outside where people could practice in peace.
Draco led Harry up to a private room on the second floor. Inside a fire was already crackling in the small mantle, the flames flickering and dancing, their reflection gleaming off the black grand piano set in the middle of the room.
"So this is where you've been disappearing off to last week?" Harry said.
"Well I certainly wasn't getting all chummy with the house-elves in the kitchen."
Harry rolled his eyes and sat next to him on the small black bench. Draco took out the sheet music he stuffed inside his night-robe, smoothen out the paper, and spread it out in front of them. Harry's eyes lit as he read the title of the song but kept quiet.
Draco flexed his fingers and played a few practice scales to loosen himself up. Once he was through, he took in a deep breath and played.
The simple chord fell from his fingers, smooth as honey; the tempo set low. Then came in the sweet, gentle melody softly ringing through the air, bouncing off the walls, just as it was in the Disney movie when the mother gorilla held the baby boy in her arms, soothing his tears with her singing.
He remembered being mesmerized by the scene and the song. He also remembered Harry leaning more against him, lying his head on Draco's shoulder while they watched the scene just as he did just then. And like before, Draco laid his cheek on his soft black hair as he continued to play.
When he reached the chorus, Harry decided to add vocals to the music, singing softly with the melody.
'Cause you'll be in my heart
Yes, you'll be in my heart
From this day on
Now and forever more
You'll be in my heart
No matter what they say
You'll be here in my heart, always
Draco was almost sad when they reached the ending. The music was so beautiful. He felt so warm from the music thrumming through his fingertips, from the fire dancing in their home, from Harry's singing that was rich like the hot chocolate they drank, from their shared body heat. He didn't want it to end, but decided to make it count.
"Always." Draco whispered, looking right at Harry, whose eyes were closed, the expression on his face pure contentment.
The final notes faded away into the shadows. Silence hung over the room like a nice, toasty blanket. Draco reached for Harry's hand, feeling pleasure swell in his chest as Harry linked their fingers together.
"So," he said. "I take it you liked your gift?"
"Yes," Harry murmured, then cracked one eye opened that glanced up at Draco. "Although your playing went a little flat at the g-chord-"
"Shut up, Potter." Draco socked him in the arm. "Silly git."
Harry stuck his tongue out at him. "Spoiled prat."
"How I put you with you over the years only Merlin knows."
The git shot him a cheeky smile. "Trust me, I've often asked myself the same question."
Draco punched him in the arm again.
Around noon, they pulled themselves out of the music room, where Draco played more of their song and the two fooled around on the piano, and met up with their friends at the Great Hall for lunch. Over bites of roasted turkey with seasoned- potatoes and mouthfuls of Yorkshire pudding, Blaise passed around his gifts to the group.
Shiny white Christmas cards with steaks of red tied together in a bow that unveiled as they opened them. Inside was an image of a red-faced Theo leading Severus in a waltz , eyes more so focused on his black loafers than the hard, black eyes of their stoic Head of house glaring down at him. For Theo, their Jewish friend who was given a gold and white Hanukkah card with the menorah lit with all eight candles, his picture was of Pansy stepping on Severus's toes as she sent a nasty look Theo's direction. Her head whipped around as a growl snarled through Severus's teeth, his glare lethal enough to kill her on the spot.
"I figure the dance lesson was a perfect memory for the festive holidays." Blaise said.
Theo and Pansy traded a look with each other, closed their cards, and looked over at Blaise.
Pansy's lips curled into a sweet smile. "Merry Christmas, Zabini."
Then slammed an iron-hard fist against his arm.
"Ow!"
Theo smiled charmingly at his wounded roommate. "And a happy New Year."
A second later a fist slammed against the other arm, hitting him twice as hard.
"Ow!"
"If there's one thing, Nott and I can agree on, Zabini," Pansy snapped. "It's the fact you're a complete, utter arse!"
"An arse that in a good five to ten years you two will be naming your first child after."
Theo nearly choked on his bite of turkey, his face Gryffindor-red. Pansy, just as red-faced, scowled and swung hard at his leg.
Blaise's face twisted into a grimace, revealing how painful that kick was. The grimace, though, smoothened into a smile as his dark eyes landed on Draco and Harry. "Then again, perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself. I sense a little Blaise-honoree coming from these two more."
Harry almost spat out his water. Draco growled and stepped hard on his toes, hoping he crushed a few toes.
"Keep it up, Zabini, and you'll be spending the rest of Christmas in the hospital wing."
"My sympathies for dear Cupid have increased. Tenfold."
The four of them teamed up and threw punches at his arms, two for two.
A fresh layer of snow laid over the forest, so white and soft-looking like a plush, fresh blanket, completely untouched. Only it didn't stay that way for long. Soon the fresh sheets of snows were marred by footsteps and handprints as the group of friends were engaged in a fierce snowball fight, shrieks and laughter and curses echoing throughout the woods, filling the air.
The group was split into two teams. Team one had Draco, Pansy, Blaise, and Crabbe. Team two had Harry, Daphne, Theo, and Goyle. Snowball fights were already an intense battle by itself, but the intensity heightened when the fight featured players with strong arms, quick reflexes, brute strength, and, of course, magic that created more snowballs faster than a pair of hands. And sent a stream of snow the opponent's way or cause piles of it to spill from the tree branches hanging over their heads.
Theo had targets fixed on Blaise, flinging countless snowballs at him. Pansy teamed up with him, turning against her own teammate, pelting him with snowballs along with the people from the other team.
Draco smirked as he caught sight of Daphne standing in the middle of a clearing, stumbling her way out of Crabbe's rapid snow-fire, dusting the stubborn flakes off herself. He curved a big snowball in his hand and whined back his arm.
Then nearly crashed to the ground as a heavy layer of snow dropped on top of him.
"Never attack an opponent when his back is turned!" Harry chirped behind him, doing a surprisingly accurate imitation of Moody's voice.
Daphne giggled. "Good one, Potter."
Draco wiped the snow off, shooting her a glare, and looked over his shoulder, switching the glare onto Harry.
He lowered his wand that was aimed up at the branch over Draco's head where the snow-ammo came from. He saluted to Draco with a smirk and took off running.
Draco charged after him, spelling dozens of snowballs from the ground, aiming them at Harry. Sometimes they missed their target and sometimes they made a direct hit, slamming against his back or his head. To his annoyance, though, whenever they did, Harry ran faster as the arctic hit gave him more speed.
"I'm gonna get you, Potter!"
"That is if you can catch me, Malfoy!"
Draco reached for his wand to fire more snowballs but instead got the wind knocked out of him as he tripped over a low branch, landing hard on his stomach. The force of his ungraceful fall caused snow to spill from the higher branches that rained down on him, layer upon layer. By the time he finally surfaced from this icy cocoon, he was thoroughly soaked, cold, and pissed. A deadly combination that would not play well in Harry's favor.
Growling, Draco created the biggest snowball with his hands that he planned on dumping on Harry's head and followed the trail of footsteps embedded in the snow. The trail led him up to the hill, taking him away from the forest and bringing him close to the castle. Groups of friends were engaged in their own snow-battles, pelting each other with snowballs. He passed by a moronic first-year Gryffindor who threw a snowball at the back of a eighth-year Slytherin, then ran the opposite direction when the Slytherin's head whipped around. A Hufflepuff who charged straight into a Ravenclaw that was seated by the side, watching the fight instead of participating, knocking them into a pile of snow. The weasel was being hit at all angles from his clan that turned on him.
Draco ended up getting hit by a few flying snowballs and any other time he'd response with a fierce retaliation that would have the fool buried six feet deep in now. Today, though, he had more important things to worry about. He was a man on a mission.
The trail took him to the courtyard littered with more students building snowmen, making snow angels, and flinging more snowballs at each other. He found Harry standing by one of the pillars, smiling.
Perfect. Draco patted the ball into a firmer shape and held it high.
The snowball slipped from his hands as he took a few steps closer, seeing Harry wasn't only smiling but laughing. And that he wasn't alone.
"You so sweet." Delacour cooed, giggling. She smiled that charming smile Draco imagined made buffoons' tongues drop from their mouths, wagging like dogs' tails, as she tucked loose strands of her hair behind her ear. "Shame I already have a date to ze ball." She took a step closer to him. "I believe you and I would have made a splash together."
Oh, she was going to make a splash alright. In the lake Draco would push her into, offering her as a tasty French entrée to the giant squid.
"That'd be a bold move," Although Harry's voice didn't stammer like most fools did when they talked to Delacour, his cheeks were flushed light red, a very displeasing sight that made anger swirl inside Draco like a shimmering potion. "Considering the fact we're Champions competing against each other. Might send an interesting message to people."
Delacour shrugged, a touch of slyness slipping into her smile. "Perhaps one of unity."
Forget the squid. He'd drop her body at edge of the Forbidden forest and let the creatures lurking in there have their way with her.
"That's quite bold, Ms. Delacour." Harry commented.
Her words practically came out as a purr. "I'm told I'm quite a bold girl, Mr. Potter."
Her hand then accidentally brushed against Harry's arm, moving from his wrist to his elbow.
Whistles blared in Draco's head like a referee calling foul.
He dove in, wiggling his way between them, setting the two a good five feet apart. "Hope I'm not interrupting?" He tried to play it off with a smile, but even Draco could tell it was less of a smile and more of a curved knife.
"No," Harry answered. "Well, not really, not anymore."
Draco studied his eyes. He remembered one of the instructors from the retreat saying when the Veela victim was under their spell, their eyes glazed over, appearing glassy. Harry's eyes were still clear and alert, thank Merlin.
"I see you two ave been aving fun in ze snow." Delacour's smile was the perfect vision of innocence.
Too bad for her, Draco wasn't fooled by it. He cut her with his eyes, and then threw a glare at Harry. "Some of us more than others."
Harry brushed aside the comment with a shrug and a smile. "Apparently Mother Winter favors a few lucky ones more than others." His eyes shifted upward onto Draco's hair. "You have some snowflakes in your hair."
Goddamn. He must have left his hat behind at the snow cocoon. Draco's hands reached up to his head. Harry halted the action by laying his hands over Draco's.
"No point brushing them off. It's still snowing."
Fair point, as much as he hated it. The annoyance didn't make much of an impact as it usually did. He was too focused on the solid weight of Harry's hands.
"Besides, it's a good look on you."
Draco tried to hold onto his annoyance that fired in his body as he dug his way through the snow, the fuel that pushed his feet to move up the steep hill. Only the annoyance crumbled like paper the longer Harry held his hands, the more he smiled at him. And...Draco felt his traitorous lips curve into a soft smile.
"Tous les deux."
Draco almost forgot Delacour was there till she spoke.
Harry was just as stunned by the reminder-and embarrassed. The red coloring his cheeks deepened as he dropped his hands and pulled away. It was only a step but to Draco the distance might as well have been an island.
"I'm just gonna-gonna head inside." Harry jerked a thumb at the castle. "Get some hot chocolate."
Draco was caught between begging-and this was something he'd never admit out loud, taking it straight to the grave-for Harry to stay and snapping at Delacour for being a pest. Instead what came out of his mouth was, "I'll see you there."
Harry nodded and walked into the castle with a little sprint in his step, like he was trying to seek shelter from the frigid cold. Or avoid this awkward moment.
"So zat's why."
Great Merlin, he was just starting to forget about her-and remembered that he missed a good opportunity to snap at her. Turning over to her, Draco realized that the moment might not be lost after all. He could still do it. Better yet, demand why the hell she was spending so much time with Harry.
The look on her face stopped him like a punch. For once, there was no teasing smiles, no knowing smirks, no annoying glint of amusement lighting her features. She looked completely somber as she watched Harry off, as if he was a puzzle she was trying to solve. "I wondered why you were so sad at ze retreat. Why you were so anxious to go ome." When her eyes slowly shifted back to Draco, the somber look remained, glowing extra bright. "And now I see why."
Heat flared inside him, mortifying heat as if she was the parent and he was the child who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He tried fanning it away with explanations. Anyone with eyes and half a brain could easily see how miserable he was there. He didn't have the gene and yet was expected to participate in lessons and training. He was surrounded with pests he wanted to squish with his feet. As for Harry...it was none of her business.
A scowl slashed across Draco's face. "Is there a point you're trying to make here?" While you have a tongue to do so, he silently added.
Her lips shaped into a frown, an expression that was just as pretty as a smile. The sight only made fanned the flames of infuriation fuming in his chest, spreading like wildfire. "You are aware of it."
If this was another stupid Veela babble-crap, he was going to lost it. And if the Delacours ended up losing a daughter in the process, then so be it. "Aware of what?"
A brow rose high and her frown deepened. "I see I was right again. You are as interesting as you are stubborn, a trait zat might not play well in your future if you continue to do so."
Draco's frustration reached its' peak. "Spit it out, Delacour!"
"Bonds are truly beautiful things, Draco. Beautiful and frightening all at the same time. Beautiful because you meet zat one person destined to be yours as you are theirs. Someone who fate ensures zat you meet. But it can also be frightening. Ze idea of someone aving so much power over you, ze power to strengthen you as well as end you. Someone who knows every idden vulnerability and crack in your armor. It's overwhelming. Especially if ze Veela's destined alf is someone already close to zeir eart. Ze lines are blurred and everything becomes entangled. It makes ze case more complex, ze bond more difficult."
Draco glared at her.
"It is challenging in a way when a bond is already built between zem. One zat is born as ze two grow close, strengthening over ze years. You are aware of ze role zey play in your life just as you play a role in zeirs. And zat is fine for you. Then along ze way ze heritage develops and things start to change. Everything, including the bond. Makes everything more intense, overpowering, and confusing. Ze Veela in some cases grows scared and pulled away. Because zey are too overwhelmed for two very common reasons."
Draco swallowed down a lump that was wedged in his throat.
"Ze first is easily understandable. Zey fear what zey feel is not of their own but because of ze Veela. Believe that is ze Veela making say zem certain things, feel certain things. However zat's not true. Veela eritage is just another fragment, one of many pieces zat make up the whole picture. A simple part that makes you you. Like you being a blond. Being alf-French. Or even being a Malfoy. Ze feelings are not forced or enchanted. Think of it as…a love potion. If ze person already olds feelings for another and ze two lock eyes, zen nothing will change. You can't spell what's already inside. It's no different than ze bond. Ze feelings already exist but zey are enhanced."
The lump in his throat was dry as a cactus, big as a snitch.
"The other is understandable, but in all the more tragic. At least in my eyes"
The lump grew from the root of his mouth to his throat. How he was able to get words out was a mystery. "And what would that be?"
"Fear." Delacour declared.
The word was like a blow to the gut.
She went on, her intent gaze never faltering away from his eyes. "Fear of rejection. Fear of being at ze end of an unrequited affair where zeir feelings are only a small measure compared to ze vast ones you ave for zem. Fear zat if you are brave enough to pursue, it will shatter right before your eyes and what you had will never be ze same again. Or worse, it would be as if there never was."
Draco sucked in a sharp breath. Then another and another, his balled fists clenching tighter with each intake. Emotions-crazed and explosive and maddening-colliding and crashing against his insides, against each other. He struggled to seal them in with a cap by mustering all of its power into the nastiest glare he could make.
"You and Granger should really get better acquainted. The same pestering piece cut from the same cloth."
He resisted the urge to spit at her face or sting her with a hex and stormed towards the castle.
"Draco."
Damn his cursed feet for pausing.
"Zere is a blessing as well as a curse in everything. Zat is simply ze nature of life. Ze Veela mating is no different." Students were running and shrieking about, but somehow his ears still caught the sound of Delacour taking a step closer to him. "On one and, great appiness can be shared between ze Veela and zeir chosen, ze sort of appiness many dream about and only few are lucky to have. On ze other, ze chosen can just as easily find their own appiness. With someone else. All ze while ze Veela has no choice but to watch zem, wallowing in the depths of their sorrow and regret because of pride and fear. Such a thing is so agonizing, so unbearable; zose who experience it said it was like dying. Or would have preferred zat to what zey had to deal with."
He needed his words. Words, breaths, anything. Anything at all other than standing like a damn statue.
"I truly ope, Draco, your fate will not come to zat."
He took in a deep breath that came from his very core, making sure each word came out from his mouth was a sharp bite. "Stay the hell away from me and Harry, Delacour, or I'll add a crimson smile to that pretty face of yours."
In between hours of more fun in the snow, cups of hot chocolate, and trying out their gifts, time flew by. Dusk approached, painting the sky midnight blue dotted with thousands of stars that shined like diamonds. The friends separated, heading into their dorms to prepare for the ball.
A soft smile spread across Draco's face as he admired his reflection in the mirror of his dresser. He looked good-better than good. He looked incredible, thanks in part to the sleek black suit Mother's most trusted tailor made for him that was crafted in the richest material of black. His skin was smooth and fair like porcelain. His hair was combed neatly, not a strand out of place.
He looked like a lord, the one his father was, the one he hoped to be one day. Powerful, untouchable.
There was only one thing needed to complete the look. Draco eyed the large blue jar of hair gel sitting on the dresser by his right. He unscrewed the cap and reached inside.
"Don't."
Draco's gaze drifted up to Harry, who smiled at him while he was struggling with his tie. "I need to make sure my hair look perfect."
"When doesn't your hair look perfect, Malfoy?" Harry teased. The glint in his eyes deepened as they glanced at his hair. "And honestly I think you look better without it."
Draco stole a glance at his reflection. He supposed gel would diminish the look. After all, his hair was set and styled perfectly. Any other additions could risk ruining it. "Fair enough."
Harry gave him another smile and turned his attention onto his tie. Draco took the time to study his profile. He was dressed in a black custom-made suit that was similar to Draco's but with a different coat and a white silk shirt underneath, red cuff-links. It wasn't a surprising sight since they wore suits to dozens of balls and parties his parents took them to, but tonight it was different. Maybe because he would see how much his friend was changing. A hint of childhood innocence still lingered on the familiar face, but everyday it dimmed more and more, his features growing into that of the man he'd be one day. One with a strong jaw-line, a layer of strength and maturity settling on his face, looks that weren't classically beautiful but still stunning. Not the way Draco knew his were that were polished and described as aristocratic. However there was something alluring about Harry, something that captured the eye, a beauty in its own.
Warmth lashed at Draco's insides like a whip.
He swallowed-or made a poor attempt at it-and swatted Harry's hands away from the tie, taking over. "Let me, you're hopeless."
"Are not." Harry stuck his tongue out at him.
Hopeless and immature. Draco snickered. It amazed him Harry lived with them for so long and still couldn't fix his tie. His poor attempts made the thing look like a twisted ball, nearly ruining the material.
It was a rich crimson color that surprisingly went well with Harry's coloring, even though green was more his color.
As Draco undid the twisted knot and started over, a thought slipped into his mind, causing heat to lick his insides. Of him not tying the knot but undoing it, watching the silk material slide off Harry's neck. Then the jacket, then the shirt after he was through with their three dozen buttons. Peeling away layers that hid soft, lightly-tanned skin underneath.
The thought left Draco breathless, his hands shaky. He stole a glance at Harry, who was still as a statue, staring back at him intently. His breathing shaky as the faintest shade of red flooded across his face.
"There." Draco said. "All done."
"T-thanks." Harry mumbled.
Both were painfully aware that Draco's hands were still on him. The notice became more prominent as one of his hands lowered, sliding past the tie down to Harry's chest. He could feel Harry's body heat that practically seared through the thin material. Felt the hard, rapid pounding of his heart that trembled beneath Draco's hand, beating more frantically as that same hand toyed with one of the shirt buttons.
He took a step forward. Harry sucked in a sharp breath. Gazes dropped to lips.
"Potter!" Blaise knocked hard on the other side of the door. "Get Malfoy out of the damn bathroom and get a move on it!"
Draco never wanted to rip Blaise's tongue out and tie it around his throat more than he did at that moment.
Harry cleared his throat and took a step back. "We, um, we better go."
What else could he do at a time like that other than nod and follow his best friend out of the room? Doing that, along with picturing countless scenarios on how he'd end Zabini's life.
The soon-to-be dead man waited for them in the common room where other Slytherins were milling about, heading off to the ball or waiting for their dates. Blaise didn't look half bad in his suit that colored in a shade of gray so dark, it was nearly black. Daphne was by his side looking radiant in her dress. The palest shade of ice-blue embroidered with dozens of shapes that looked to be a cross between hearts and diamonds whose sparkling satin glowed from the lights of the room, covering every inch of the dress. The light bodice clung to her figure, showing off her slender waist, and while the full skirt flared out, pooling around her feet. Her blond hair was done up in a bun with braids entwined and twin stray strands hanging by her face.
"Daphne, you look incredible." Harry said.
"Thank you." she smiled.
Theo came in with his date, decked out in a black suit with a bright blue vest underneath and matching tie. The color went perfectly with his date. Patil decided to go with her traditional native clothes, dressed in bright shades of blue andt purple. Sets of golden bangles chimed from her wrists. Her dark wavy hair was let down, the thick curls bouncing off her shoulders.
She looked a great deal happier than her sister, dressed in similar clothes but in bright pinks and oranges, a frown marring her face as she trailed behind her twin.
The frown was easily explained as her date followed behind, looking just as miserable.
"Ron. I didn't know you were taking-" Harry's eyes widened as he took in his clothes. "Woah."
Woah indeed. What Weasley had on….the words rags and fashion-challenged seemed too kind to use. Draco wasn't even sure if what he had on should even be considered clothes. Scrapes seemed more fitting, the type people wouldn't even donate to the less than fortunate. An old jacket in a nasty shade of reddish-brown overstuffed with so many frills and laces. It looked more like a dress and possibly would have been considered presentable in the later 19th century with matching pants that barely covered his ankles. His vest was an odd gold-patterned thing that looked like it was designed in the dark, three sizes too big for the weasel. And for the finishing touch, a purple big tie that was knotted into a poorly-done ruined bow that sagged like a withering flower.
"It was Charlie's." Weasley croaked. "It was the best Mum could do."
"I…" Harry shook his head, unable to find the words.
Fortunately for the weasel, Draco had no such problem. "Well, congratulations, Weasel-bee. I didn't think it was possible but you look even repulsive than you usually do."
Weasley growled at him, shooting a dark glare, and looked over at Harry. "Did Hermione tell you who she's going with?"
A frown crossed Harry's face. "Didn't say anything about it. I thought you were taking her."
Weasley shook his head. "I asked and she told me no. Actually, yelled at me is more like it. Made a big fuss about it and everything."
Draco couldn't blame her. If he were a girl and asked by Weasley, he'd let his refusal be known loud and clear, loud enough to actually startle the dead. Weasley's date looked as if she wished she took that route or wiggled her way out of the invitation, her eyes glancing over at the Weasel's attire and shaking her head, her frown deepening.
"Speaking of dates," the happier Patil twin said. "Luna's already waiting for you in front of the Ravenclaw tower, Harry." A glint sparked in her eyes. "I think you're gonna be blown away."
What the hell was that suppose to mean?
Harry only smiled, patting Draco on the back, and heading off to get his date.
Draco tried pushing away the nausea that pricked his stomach as he watched him walk away.
"Are you ready for me, darling Dray?"
Muttering to himself, Draco rolled his eyes and turned over to Pansy, his eyes widening as she walked into the room.
Actually, she didn't even walk. She pretty much sashayed her way in, a twinkle sparkling in her eyes. Pansy was wrapped in silk tulle. The color of her dress was light shade of pink, so pale it was almost white. The V-neckline of the dress was so low; it crossed the borders of daring. Beaded pearls laid over the sleeves, crossing over to the neckline, entwining around the waist. The bodice of the dress was nearly sheer, showing off everything but giving that illusion of secrecy. The skirt was so wide, masses of silk tulle spreading and floating at her feet like a wave of fabric, turning with every step she took. Her makeup was light with some lipstick here and blushes there. She used a spell to make her hair elbow-length long and styled it in a complicated hairdo that was half-up, half-down, laced with braids
Blaise let out a low whisper. "Well, hello Parkinson."
Draco looked over at Theo, curious to see what he made of the dress. Theo's mouth was wide open, nearly kissing the ground, his eyes just as big. He looked almost as if he were enchanted, under some sort of spell, until he felt Draco's eyes on him. He blinked, cleared his throat, and fidgeted with his jacket.
"Parkinson," he said. "You look…you actually look….really nice."
Draco stared at him, flabbergasted. Blaise and Daphne were just as stunned. He could count the number of times on one hand when Theo actually paid Pansy with a compliment and four out of five of them were forced by his mother who felt like he should say something nice. The only time was because he actually wanted to and Pansy repaid him with a shove into the mud.
This time she accepted it with a slight curtsy. "Thank you, Nott. You look just as adorable as your pretty little date." She cut her eyes over to Patil. "Why, Padma, that skirt is just lovely."
She blinked, lost for words. She turned to Theo for direction and he offered a shrug, just as put-off. "Um, thanks, Pansy."
Her smile widened. "It's just long enough to hide those scrawny little chicken legs."
There was the Pansy he knew.
Theo and his date's stunned expressions were knocked off by dark frowns. Theo charged as if he were about to strike her, but Patil held him back, directing them towards the door.
Blaise snickered as he rose from his chair. "I have a good feeling this is going to be a very interesting night."
Draco rolled his eyes, although there was a part of him that actually agreed with him.