Even though he wasn’t a Prefect, the mont the procession climbed the steps up from the dungeons, Draco was imdiately visible at the very front of the Slytherin students.
Normally, that position was reserved for Prefects alone.
It was also at this mont that it beca clear that every Slytherin coming up from the underground common room had changed into formal attire.
The most eye-catching figure was still Draco at the head of the group. He was wearing a black velvet, high-collared dress robe that made him look particularly sharp and striking.
Judging by the style, it was most likely the sa robe Draco had transfigured with Hermione atop the Astronomy Tower back then.
From the rest of the Slytherins, it was easy to see that most of the little snakes had opted for more mature-looking robes. Aside from their naturally noble and elegant appearance, their color choices were far more restrained and pure, stripping away much of their childishness.
Paired with their refined aristocratic upbringing, the outfits made them look like miniature adults.
It was worth ntioning that Goyle and Crabbe were both dressed entirely in green. Standing there, they looked like two massive stones covered in moss.
...
Tonight’s Yule Ball clearly seed to have been specially arranged.
During the entire walk in, Draco never saw Pansy and the others again. Naturally, he had no way of knowing just how pretty or adorable they looked after returning early to their dormitory to prepare.
To put it more precisely, every figure Draco encountered along the way was male.
Now that he had arrived at the gathering area to wait for entry, it was even more obvious. All around him were male wizards from the other houses. Clearly, before the ball officially began, they wouldn’t be seeing any girls.
With so ti still left before the Yule Ball, a bored Draco leaned against the wall and began observing students from the other houses, especially those in the direction of Gryffindor.
Though thinking this way did verge on paranoia, he had to get to the bottom of Rita Skeeter’s information sources.
It wasn’t just Harry Potter. Within Hogwarts, Draco himself carried more than a few secrets.
While he didn’t believe Rita Skeeter would have the nerve to provoke a noble family with considerable influence in the wizarding world, Draco still refused to allow an uncontrollable and potentially unstable factor to exist right under his nose.
He had no desire to wake up one day and find his own inner thoughts laid bare in The Daily Prophet.
The thought sent a chill down his spine, and Draco suddenly found himself wanting to set aside so ti to deal with Rita Skeeter once and for all.
Just as he swept his gaze across the faces of the Gryffindor students one by one, Goyle and Crabbe quietly edged closer, wearing distinctly unsettling smiles.
“Draco, you absolutely won’t believe what we just found out.”
“That’s right. We just overheard a secret.”
Even after all that training, Goyle and Crabbe’s magical abilities had improved quite a bit, but their fondness for eavesdropping on other people clearly hadn’t changed much at all.
Without anyone noticing, the two of them had apparently gone and done it again.
Draco shot them a sideways glance.
“Before that, did you two manage to find dance partners for the ball?”
“Ahem!”
“Well… Draco, you know how it is with us…”
For once, Draco could actually see a hint of embarrassnt on Goyle and Crabbe’s faces. Along with it was a frustration so obvious it didn’t even need to be explained.
The corner of Draco’s mouth twitched, but he let them off.
“Alright then. Go on. What interesting information did you overhear this ti?”
Barely a second later, their gloomy expressions vanished, replaced by excitent and barely concealed schadenfreude.
“Our fourth Champion and his sidekick!”
“Our fourth Champion and his sidekick!”
“They still haven’t found a dance partner!”
“Not one!”
Goyle and Crabbe’s operatic back-and-forth, delivered without lowering their voices in the slightest, imdiately set off a wave of mocking snickers among the surrounding Slytherins.
The little snakes never grew tired of laughing at Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.
And with laughter that sounded straight out of a villain’s lair, it was no wonder the other three houses saw Slytherin as a breeding ground for dark wizards.
Draco didn’t laugh as openly as Goyle and the others, but the slight upward curve of his lips was enough to betray his good mood.
Ever since he’d figured out what he truly wanted, Draco found himself able to feel pleased over things this trivial.
After all, nothing was more satisfying than watching soone who coveted his treasures end up miserable.
...
The ball venue.
Once they entered the Great Hall, everyone quickly realized that the girls hadn’t arrived yet. The only ones present were the professors who had co early to wait for the students.
It seed that not only were the assembly points different, but even the entry tis had been deliberately staggered.
In a way, the arrangent really did heighten the sense of anticipation.
A few wizards, already unable to wait to see their dance partners, had crowded near the entrance. Professor McGonagall, clearly irritated, personally drove them away.
Only a few minutes left until eight o’clock.
Draco withdrew his gaze and noted it silently to himself.
Strangely enough, when it ca to the girls who were about to make their entrance, he actually felt a faint sense of anticipation.
Suppressing that unfamiliar feeling, Draco turned his attention to the Great Hall, which had been completely transford.
The walls were coated in shimring silver dust, while the magically conjured ceiling displayed a brilliant, star-filled sky. A towering Christmas tree stood tall, hung with hundreds of sprigs of mistletoe and wreaths woven from ivy.
The four long house tables were gone, replaced by small tables decorated with pumpkin-shaped lanterns. On top of them sat carefully prepared miniature desserts and glowing pumpkin juice.
The entire scene overflowed with Christmas atmosphere.
Just as the other followers finally managed to restrain Goyle and Crabbe from charging at the food, the massive oak doors slowly swung open.
“Hogwarts food is far too rich. My dress is about to stop fitting.”
Silver hair, a sapphire-blue gown. The newcor appeared before everyone like a spirit rising from the lake.
The first to enter was Fleur Delacour, complaining as she walked while lifting her chin proudly. Likely because of her status as a Champion, she had been arranged to lead the procession.
And the effect was imdiate.
The heated, fixed gazes of the male wizards said everything.
Yet the perfectly fitted gown that accentuated her figure didn’t seem to match her complaints at all. At least, in the eyes of any professional designer, this was precisely the dress that suited Fleur best.
But compared to the dazzling Fleur Delacour, Draco’s attention was fixed on the space behind her.
There, walking hand in hand toward him—
Pansy and Hermione.
Reviews
All reviews (0)