A/N:
Written for QLFC Season 10 Round 7
Team: Tutshill Tornadoes
Position: Chaser 2
Prompt: A Fairytale Story (Cinderella)
Optional Prompts:
3. [action] dancing
5.[dialogue] "This is going to be a night you'll never forget."
11.[era] next-gen
Word Count: 1820
Rose sighed and buried her nose further into her book, trying to ignore the persistent, nagging voice next to her.
"Come on, Rose," her cousin, Dominique, urged. "You'll have fun. And everyone else is going; you'll just sit here by yourself with nothing to do."
"I could use the time to finish some homework," Rose tried. There was a collective groan from the other four girls in the room, who were all exchanging and trying on different types of makeup, coiffing each other's hair in different styles, and holding dresses up to their chests, their eyes glazed with dreams of romantic candlelight and dancing in the Christmas ball that was to take place that very night.
"Don't be such a bore," Dominique admonished in her French-tinged accent. "Besides, I think you've already finished the homework we have for this whole week."
Rose let out another sigh. It was true.
"Nobody's asked me," she tried again, trying to sound reasonable and nonchalant.
That wasn't entirely true. More than a few boys had asked her, but she'd said no. She'd been decided on not attending, sure she wouldn't appreciate the crowdedness of the Great Hall and the hubbub of the students, added to the tiresome process of makeovers and hairstyles and finding the right dress… It was too much. She'd rather spend the night on Hogwarts' vast grounds, breathing in the crisp winter air.
Roxanne's dry voice came from the corner of the room, where she was showing Lucy the proper way to apply mascara. "Don't believe her, coz. I was there when Tobias Wood tried to ask her to the ball, and she turned him down."
Rose sent a glare towards her other cousin, who blinked innocently.
"I don't have a dress or anything," she said hastily, as she saw Dominique open her mouth in this new line of attack. "And I hate having make-up on my face, and it's going to be really noisy and—"
Dominique stopped Rose's desperate rambling with a sharp gesture. She may be the same age as Rose, but she had an air of authority to her that allowed her to take charge, and often made the others give in to her demands.
And now, she was applying that authority in full force.
She gave Rose a glare that was pure steel. "If you don't have a date because you were too stubborn to say yes to someone, then that's your problem. Nobody ever said you had to have a date to go to the ball."
"But it'll be embarrassing to go alone—"
Dominique waved off the feeble argument. "If it's about the dress, I'll give you one of my own. Maman bought me three. We'll make some changes if we have to, but we're nearly the same size, anyway."
"We'll give you a make-over, too," Roxanne added. "We won't overdo it, just a dash of lipstick, a smear of eyeshadow, some light blush…"
Lucy decided to join the attack. "Come on, Rosie. Even I'm going. It doesn't make sense for you to be the only one to stay behind."
Dominique sat down next to her on the bed. "Don't worry. This is going to be a night you'll never forget."
That, Rose thought wryly, is exactly what I am afraid of.
Rose stared at the mirror, trying to recognise herself in the girl looking back at her.
"There," Dominque announced proudly, touching up her hair. "Perfect."
The dress she'd given Rose had needed little altering, though it was slightly tight on her around the middle since her cousin was slimmer. It was a rich crimson, the bodice and sleeves made of soft velvet while the skirt fell in shimmering waves of silk to the floor. The hem, waist and cuffs were embellished with intricate silver embroidery, adding an elegance to what would have otherwise been a simple design. The sleeves reached her wrists, but the neckline was low, exposing her collarbones and an expanse of fair skin above her chest.
She was astonished by the translucence that the red colour gave her skin, and the glints of fire it brought out in her hair, which had been piled artfully on her head, with locks tumbling deliberately over her shoulder and down her back. The make-up was light, just a sheen of pink on her lips and faint golden dusting on her eyelid, which enhanced the brown of her eyes.
"You look beautiful," Lucy breathed, her eyes round.
Rose didn't know what to say. She'd always been told she was pretty, but she hadn't paid much attention to it, not just because she wasn't a girl who love spending much time to her looks, but because compared to Dominque and her sister, Victoire, she looked positively plain.
Roxanne, dressed in a plum gown, linked her arm with hers. "Let's go down to the Great Hall," she said with a gentle tug. "The ball must be starting."
They went down, blending with the stream of dressed-up students flowing into the Great Hall. Hogwarts was always beautifully decorated at Christmas, but tonight it was breath-taking. The walls were covered with wreaths of beribboned holly and red velvet swags, and the banisters had been laced with tinsel and long strings of Christmas greenery. The Great Hall itself was a magnificent sight, the doorway framed by an edge of mistletoe, which couples eyed slyly as they strode in. It was filled with brilliant candlelight, and the refreshment tables set on the side were laden with delicacies and flower arrangements that filled the Hall with heady perfume. Music floated from a dais where a band was playing romantic Christmas songs.
As they entered, Dominique was instantly greeted by a tall, strapping boy, who looked simultaneously smug and smitten as he held out his hand for her.
She waved him off in the imperious manner only Dominique could achieve. "Let me just get my cousin a dancing partner," she said, and steered Rose through the crowd.
Rose was overcome with embarrassment. "Dominique," she whispered. "I really don't want to dance. I'll just sit by the refreshment tables and—"
Dominique waved her off as she had her date. "We're going to get you a dance. Really, any boy would be lucky to dance with you, the way you look tonight. Believe me, any minute now someone's going to come and ask you to—"
"Rose Weasley?" a voice asked.
Both girls turned to face a tall, dark-haired boy, whom Rose recognised as the Ravenclaw keeper.
"I thought you said you wouldn't come tonight," he exclaimed with teasing smile.
Rose felt her cheeks heat. "Oh, um… My cousins wanted me to come, and I decided it was better than staying alone in the common room anyway, so…" She trailed off awkwardly.
"Well, to be honest, I'm glad you came. You must be the loveliest girl here tonight." His eyes scanned her from head to toe. He held out a hand. "Will you dance?"
Before she could answer, she felt a nudge at her shoulder. "She will," came her cousin's firm voice.
She turned, seeing the determined glint in Dominique's eyes and the smug tilt of her lips that said 'I told you so'. Repressing what must have been her fiftieth sigh that day, she took his hand and let him lead her to the dance floor.
Scorpius looked around the glittering ballroom scene, almost regretting his decision to come. It was an effort to keep his cocky grin on his face and a pleasant conversation with the other Slytherins around him, when he hated the crowd and the loud music, overlaid with laughter and feminine giggles. It was giving him a headache. As the group he'd been chatting with dispersed, most of them to the dance floor, Scorpius used the opportunity to head to the refreshment table.
As he manoeuvred through the crowd, a glimpse of red caught his eye on the dance floor, and his feet stopped as he stared, transfixed.
It was Rose Weasley, but at the same time, it wasn't. Her hair, instead of her usual messy ponytail, was arranged into an elaborate hairstyle, falling down her back in soft waves. The rich colour of her gown highlighted her pale skin, which positively glowed in the abundant candlelight of the Great Hall. She was dancing with a Ravenclaw boy, and though she obviously wasn't as at home on the dance floor as she was on the Quidditch field, she still twirled gracefully, her skirt swishing around her legs.
Barely aware he was moving, he made a beeline for her, his eyes fixed on her smiling face. She spotted him as he approached. Her smile slowly fell from her face.
He cleared his throat, and said to her partner who'd turned questioningly to him, "May I cut in?"
The boy looked at Rose, who was staring at Scorpius with an unreadable expression. "Sure," he said, and smiled arrogantly at Rose as he left.
Scorpius took Rose's hand in his, a strange tingling spreading over the area where their skins touched. His other hand went to her waist, and hers settled on his shoulder. They swayed in time to the music, and Scorpius felt the noise melt away as he looked into her eyes, framed by thick lashes and light golden dust. She looked like a red-haired fairy.
"Won't your date mind?" she asked him, that unreadable expression flashing across her face.
"I didn't bring one," came his reply. "Yours doesn't seem to mind, though." He was already flirting with another girl on the side of the dance floor.
"He's not my date."
"Oh."
They stared at each other, dancing forgotten. Her hand was warm in his, her fingers light and delicate on his shoulder, her pink lips parted as she gazed up at him.
He wanted to say something but the words stuck in his throat. He didn't even know what he was going to say.
They stayed like that, barely swaying, their eyes locked together while the ball went on around them. When the dance finally ended, their fingers clung to each other, as if they didn't want to let go.
Rose fell into bed, tired, breathing in the fresh air from the ajar window, which was a welcome respite from the crush of the ball. Her dress was draped on a chair nearby, and her hair was back in her sleeping plait. She'd left the make-up on her face though, because she just wanted to go to sleep, and because she wanted to feel as beautiful as she did when Scorpius had looked at her, for just a little bit longer.
She held up the hand he had placed in his, which was still tingling, as if it was covered with fairy dust.
She turned and buried her face in her pillow. Dominique had been right about one thing: this was a night she would never forget.