"A masquerade ball? How splendid!" Hermione cheered happily.

"Wonderful, isn't it? It's the first ever masquerade ball held in Gryffindor. Of course, the other three kingdoms are invited," Luna explained, equally in glee.

Taking the brush within her grasp, Luna ran the bristles through Hermione's locks of hair, getting away at the few tangles. She glanced at the princess, who returned her gaze from the reflection of the mirror. Hermione gently toyed with her emerald hair pin, fingering the magnificent gem. She lifted it in the sunlight from the window glistening wondrously and placed it back down on the table.

"Is there anyone in particular who's attending the ball?"

The maid thought for a minute before answering in a hushed voice, "Well, I heard the Slytherin Prince is coming."

"Is that so? If I can recall correctly, he's never attended any event held in Gryffindor before."

Luna gently took the hair pin in her grasp and carefully clipped it into the fair princess' hair. She moved onto putting the princess' hair into a bun, purposely leave a few strands hang off.

"Yes, it's quite odd. Prince Draco of Slytherin. Don't you wonder what he's like sometimes, princess?"

"Actually, now that you mention it, I've rarely heard of him. The last time I heard the mention of him was during the annual ball a few years ago. I believe, if I recall correctly, King Lucius had excused Prince Draco from the ball because he was ill."

Luna gave a breath of satisfaction as she slipped in the last pin into Hermione's hair, completing the bun-styled hair. She clapsed her hands together and smiled into the mirror.

"Well, perhaps the mysteries of Prince Malfoy will be revealed tonight at the masquerade ball," Luna stated as she picked up Hermione's night gown, ready to head down to wash it.

"Wondrous idea! Hermione, dear, Ronald Weasly of the Quidditch team may be your accompaniment to the ball tonight!"

Hermione stared at her mother in slight disbelief.

An accompaniment? Haven't I already accompanied every gentleman in the kingdom already? How is it that mother can still think of more men?

"Ronald? Mother, I've," she paused for a moment, "no attractions to the young man. Really, I'm fine without an accompaniment."

The queen turned and pondered for another moment. King Granger reluctantly turned to his wife and whispered, "I don't think it'd be such a good idea giving Hermione an accompaniment to the ball when Prince Draco is there. We may have an alliance on our hands, dear."

Hermione looked at her parents, confused. What on earth could they be discussing?

"Is there something I should know, father?"

"Ah, erm, well, I was just telling your mother that I agree you don't need an accompaniment –"

"Oh! Yes, father. See, mother? Father agrees I don't need an accompaniment either."

Hermione's mother crossed her arms, "Oh, very well," she spoke grumpily, "I just thought you and Ronald would look absolutely stunning side by side. You, in a beautiful gown, and Ronald in a gallant formal suit; the idea of it all just makes -"

"Mother," Hermione cut in with a sharp voice, "I've no interest in Ronald; we've been friends for who-knows-how long, and we're nothing but friends."

"Father, I'll take Astoria to the ball," Draco stated.

Sitting majestically atop Draco's chair, Lucius turned to his son, "For whatever reason?" he questioned with a serious glare in his eyes.

"As an escort, of course, you don't expect me to appear alone at this masquerade ball, do you? I'm much too royal for such, father, honestly," Draco chuckled.

Lucius stroked the gem atop of his cane, "Draco," he began smoothly, "The point of a marriage-alliance is to have two families merge together by a marriage of a family member of each party. If you appear at the ball with an escort, how in the world would the alliance make any sense?"

Draco took a sip of butterbear, no matter how old he aged, he'd still enjoy the simplicity of the drink; such sweetness was delectable. He placed the cup down onto his table, folding his legs, pondering.

"You expect me to come to the ball unaccompanied, father? It's just inhumane! Me, the Slytherin Prince, without a woman by his side? Absurdity is what it is, no?"

"Absurd, inhumane, whichever word you choose to describe my orders, they are still final."

Draco narrowed his eyes at Lucius, "Do you," Draco started cautiously, "want me to marry that ... mudblood?"

Lucius pounded the tip of his cane against the fine carpet, "Does it look like I want my son, the Slytherin Prince, to marry off to a mudblood? - There is no way I'd want that, but it can't be helped, Draco. We're, at least, lucky she can perform magic; if not, it'd be such a waste of flesh."

Draco gripped his cup, "I suppose you are right, but do I get no say in this marriage-alliance treaty?"

"No," Lucius responded firmly.

Very well, then, I can always just lock the mudblood in a closet or something. Just thinking of seeing her at the ball makes my stomach turn. Filthy, just filthy.

Draco smirked at his thoughts, quite entertained. Gallantly, Lucius got up from his seat and stroked the gem once more.

"Just appear at the ball tonight and we'll have no problems, is that clear, Draco?"

"I don't see any other choice for me, father," Draco responded grumpily.

Lucius scoffed and vanished from the Draco's bed chamber. Taking the last sip of butterbear, Draco ordered for his servants.

I might as well look dashing, afterall, the Gryffindor princess should get to see all my good points before I lock her up.

He chuckled, as if his plan would ever work.