Desperate.

The Yule Ball is a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament...

Professor McGonagall's voice rang across the room, sharp and clear. I was barely listening, but the words that did register in my brain were Ball. Dance. Dress up. Twirl. Look fabulous. Ruin people's lives.

I was already picturing it. I'd descend the staircase like some ethereal, otherworldly goddess, a glittering vision of perfection. Gasps would echo. Eyes would widen. People would sob at my beauty. I would be the moment.

And then I'd dance—oh, I'd twirl so dramatically that someone would probably faint. Maybe Pansy. That'd be ideal.

I was glowing in my imagination when—

"Back to life, Juliet."

Draco's voice snapped me out of my daydream.

I turned to glare at him. He was smirking, looking far too entertained for my liking.

"Honestly, Selene," he said, "I could see you planning your wedding in your head. A little embarrassing, don't you think?"

I scoffed. "Jealous you're not invited?"

Draco placed a hand on his chest. "Devastated, truly."

Before I could continue my well-deserved attack, I suddenly remembered something even better.

I leaned toward him, whispering conspiratorially, "You know, when it was the Gryffindors, I heard Weasley had to demonstrate the dance."

Draco froze.

And then—

Absolute, unholy, demonic laughter.

This was not normal laughter. This was cackling. Wheezing. He collapsed onto the table, shaking violently, looking as if he had ascended to another plane of existence. Blaise was already laughing, but when Draco started, it turned into some unhinged chain reaction.

Kenny, beside me, was shaking her head, exasperated. "Oh no. You just killed him. That's it. We lost Draco."

"I regret nothing," I said.

But then—

Just as Draco started to recover, McGonagall spoke again.

"Since the Yule Ball is a formal event," she said, completely ignoring the hysteria in the room, "all students will be expected to learn proper ballroom etiquette. This includes—"

I felt the horror before she even said it.

"Dancing."

The room went deathly silent.

I turned to Draco.

He was stiff. Frozen. Visibly dying inside.

"Volunteers," McGonagall said. But it wasn't a request. It was a threat.

Draco visibly shrank in his seat. "No. No, no, no, no, no."

I was grinning.

"Would be a shame," I whispered, "if you had to... you know... demonstrate the dance."

Draco turned to me, looking horrified. "You wouldn't."

"I don't have to," I said. "McGonagall would."

And then—

She did.

"Malfoy."

Draco went rigid.

McGonagall gestured. The command was final.

The smug, arrogant, untouchable Draco Malfoy was called to the front—a boy who had never known suffering until this very moment.

Kenny, Blaise, and I? We were already shaking with laughter.

Draco rose from his seat like a man walking to his own execution. He sent me a look so murderous, I was sure he was planning my funeral.

"Oh, this is the greatest day of my life," I whispered to Kenny.

McGonagall clasped her hands. "Mr. Malfoy, come forward."

Draco did. Against his will. Against fate itself.

And then—

McGonagall turned to the class and said the words that ended him.

"I will be his partner."

Silence.

Complete. Absolute. Silence.

Then—

I lost it. We all lost it.

Kenny had slid off her seat. Blaise was punching the air. I was wheezing like an old man.

Draco physically recoiled. "What?!"

McGonagall ignored his distress. She simply extended her stern, bony hand.

Draco stared at it like it was the Dark Mark itself.

And then, McGonagall took matters into her own hands.

She grabbed him.

Draco audibly yelped.

I was crying. TEARS. WERE. SHED.

The moment their hands met, the room EXPLODED.

Slytherins screaming. Pansy looking like she was witnessing a Greek tragedy. Blaise on the floor. Kenny covering her face, vibrating with silent hysteria.

And Draco? Draco was dead inside.

Then McGonagall led him into position.

Oh. Oh, it got worse.

McGonagall, mercilessly, unapologetically, and with the full force of the British education system, placed one hand on Draco's shoulder and the other on his waist.

Draco gasped.

I was gone. Blaise was hyperventilating. Kenny was on the verge of a coma.

Then—

The dance began.

Draco Malfoy, pureblood heir of the Malfoy name, dancing stiffly, mechanically, with McGonagall in front of all of Slytherin.

I could not breathe. I was deceased.

"THIS IS THE GREATEST DAY OF MY LIFE," I shrieked.

McGonagall, meanwhile, was completely unfazed. She just spun Draco around like a puppet on strings.

Draco's face? Utterly shattered.

At one point, McGonagall muttered, "Loosen up, Mr. Malfoy."

And I kid you not, Draco made a noise. A real, distressed, betrayed noise.

When she finally, FINALLY released him, Draco staggered back like he had just survived the Battle of Hogwarts.

The room ERUPTED.

Draco stumbled back to his seat, eyes blank, lifeless, dead inside.

I turned to him, absolutely delighted.

He slumped against the table, face-down.

"Are you okay?" Kenny asked, voice shaking.

Draco lifted his head. His face was pale. His eyes were haunted.

Then he exhaled.

"I have seen the face of death," he whispered.

Blaise clapped him on the back. "You danced beautifully, mate."

Draco glared.

Then, slowly, painfully, like it physically hurt him, he turned to me.

"You," he said, his voice so cold, so dark, "are the worst person I have ever met."

I grinned.

"And yet," I said, "here we are."

...................................................................

I wasn't even being dramatic. Okay, maybe I was, but that was beside the point.

Draco still hadn't asked me to the Yule Ball.

I had tried everything. Subtle hints. Not-so-subtle hints. Dramatic sighing in his general direction. Saying the words "Draco, Yule Ball, DATE ME" right in front of him.

And nothing.

Whenever I so much as mentioned the Ball, he suddenly developed amnesia.

"Oh, is that happening?"

"Yes, DRACO, IT'S HAPPENING."

Or he'd pretend he didn't understand English.

"What's a Ball?"

"I hate you so much."

And worst of all? Pansy was waiting.

I didn't know what we were competing for since it was very clear that I had Draco, but that did not stop her from sending me smug looks every time she spoke to him.

And I? I was fuming.

Moving on from that tragedy, Blaise had finally asked Kenny out.

And it was disgustingly romantic.

Like, roses, handwritten notes, whispered confessions under candlelight type of romantic.

I was thrilled for Kenny, of course. But then—

Then, they started eating each other's faces in the common room.

Right in front of me. And Draco.

I was traumatized.

"Kenny." I whispered, staring at them.

She barely looked up. "Mmhm?"

"I know we're best friends and all, but I'm gonna have to report this as a crime."

She ignored me, too busy devouring Blaise's soul.

Draco, beside me, was visibly disturbed. He looked as if he had seen battle, eyes vacant and full of regret.

"This is..." He exhaled. "This is not something I needed to witness."

"They have no shame," I muttered.

Blaise finally pulled away. "Get used to it."

Kenny beamed, looking utterly love-drunk. "Yeah, it's your turn next!"

I sighed. "Not at this rate."

Which brings me to Potions class.

I was sitting at my desk, miserable, watching Draco suffer.

Why? Because he was paired with Neville.

Neville, sweet, pure, innocent Neville, who was currently making Draco reconsider his entire existence.

Draco was on the verge of a breakdown trying to stop Neville from adding the wrong ingredient.

"Neville, for Salazar's sake—"

"But the book says—"

"The book is wrong, Longbottom."

"That doesn't seem right."

"Neville, I'm begging you."

I snorted.

"Longbottom has such an innocence to him, right?" I mused. "It's so refreshing to see someone so pure—"

Kenny did not fall for my distraction.

Her eyes narrowed.

"Before this conversation shifts to his partner, please tell me—what is thou overthinking telling?"

I exhaled dramatically.

"Kenny," I whispered. "What if Draco asks out Fleur—"

Kenny's head slammed into the desk.

"OH MY GOD, SELENE, NOT THIS AGAIN."

"BUT LISTEN."

"NO. I AM NOT LISTENING."

"WHAT IF IT HAPPENS?"

Kenny sat up so fast I nearly fell off my seat. She grabbed my shoulders, shook me violently, and stared into my soul.

"WHAT IF YOU STOP BEING INSANE?"

"KENNY. IT'S A POSSIBILITY."

"NO, IT'S NOT."

"HOW DO YOU KNOW?"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE AN IDIOT."

I gasped. "The betrayal."

"SELEEEENE." Kenny looked exhausted. "This man follows you around like a lost puppy. He is down bad. He literally—" she waved her hands around frantically "—would rather be set on fire than ask out Fleur."

I folded my arms. "You're underestimating how pretty she is."

"YOU BLEACHED YOUR HAIR BECAUSE OF HER. I THINK I KNOW."

I winced. Okay, fair.

Kenny pinched the bridge of her nose. "Selene. Bestie. Look at me."

I looked at her.

"HE'S GOING TO ASK YOU."

I sighed, dramatically. "If only I could believe that—"

Kenny slapped a hand over my mouth.

"SHUT UP. SHUT UP, AND LET ME HAVE PEACE."

I muffled against her palm, "I just don't see why he hasn't—"

"SELENE. HAVE FAITH."

And then—

We both turned, staring at Draco.

Draco, who had just knocked over an entire cauldron trying to escape Neville.

We watched in silent horror as the potion started eating through the floor.

Neville blinked. "Oh. That wasn't supposed to happen."

Draco let out a slow, exhausted breath, looked straight at me, and said—

"I will literally take you to the Ball if you help me fix this."

And just like that—

My suffering had ended.

....................................................................

Draco Malfoy would ask me properly, or he wouldn't ask at all.

And if that meant I had to go alone, so be it.

Except, apparently, I now had to fake a date.

It all started with the Beauxbatons' girls.

Look, I don't know what their deal was, but they had this uncanny ability to act like we were cavemen who had just discovered fire whenever they passed us in the halls.

Every single time.

Like, relax, Gabrielle, nobody is launching themselves at you.

Especially not me.

And yet, every time they saw a Hogwarts student—even us girls—they would spin around with the biggest, most disgusted look on their face.

And let me tell you, it was infuriating.

So, naturally, when Cedric Diggory approached me in the Great Hall, I sat up a little straighter.

Because finally. Finally, I could rub something in their smug little faces.

"Hey, I'm Cedric. We haven't formally met."

He grinned down at me, his teeth blindingly white and annoyingly perfect.

I blinked.

"Selene Blackthorn." I smiled back.

And then—he asked me to the Ball.

I could practically hear Kenny choking on her pumpkin juice.

Now, Cedric Diggory was a catch. Tall, handsome, kind, ridiculously well-mannered. Any girl in this school would say yes.

And yet, for some ungodly reason, I had already made up my mind.

It was either Draco or no one.

So, before I could even process what I was doing, the words were already leaving my mouth—an absolute lie.

"Oh... sorry... I... uh... have a date already."

Kenny was visibly shaking with the effort to hold in her scream.

Cedric, to my absolute horror, was polite.

So polite.

Too polite.

He just smiled and said it was no big deal before wishing me a nice evening and walking away.

Like an actual decent human being.

I nearly fell out of my seat.

Because I was so used to Draco's entitlement that the concept of a boy not throwing a fit over rejection was actually physically jarring.

Meanwhile, Draco was NOT taking this well.

The moment Cedric left, his jaw tightened.

His grip on his fork? Absolutely lethal.

Blaise leaned forward, wicked amusement in his eyes.

"Selene."

I turned.

"Did you just reject Diggory for someone else?"

And Kenny, the traitor, leaned in with a smirk.

"Oh, she did. And you won't believe who it is."

Draco, of course, demanded answers immediately.

Blaise and Kenny, meanwhile, were having the time of their lives.

They were like gremlins feeding off chaos.

Blaise looked like Christmas had come early. Kenny was physically shaking with excitement.

And me? I was regretting every choice that led me here.

"Selene," Draco drawled, voice slow, measured. "Who is this... mysterious date of yours?"

I avoided eye contact.

Kenny was vibrating in her seat.

"Well, Malfoy," she said sweetly, way too sweetly. "She rejected Cedric because she already has a date."

Draco's eyebrows shot up.

"Yeah? Who?"

I braced myself.

And then, with the most dramatic, evil, utterly unforgivable grin, Kenny leaned forward and said—

"You."

Silence.

Absolute, deafening silence.

Draco stared at me.

I stared at the table.

Blaise and Kenny? They lost it.

Cackling. Dying.

Blaise was actually wiping a tear from his eye. Kenny had collapsed against him, shaking.

And Draco—

Draco had the most insufferably smug look I had ever seen in my life.

"Well, well, well."

I wanted to die.

"So desperate for me, Blackthorn? Couldn't even wait?"

Kenny was wheezing.

Blaise looked like he had never been happier.

I groaned, dropping my head against the table. "Shut. Up."

Draco Malfoy was never going to let me live this down.

In fact, he took great pleasure in making my life miserable over it.

Because the moment Kenny let it slip, the smugness that settled on his stupidly perfect face was unforgivable.

Draco leaned back, arms crossed, eyes glinting with pure evil.

"So, let me get this straight," he drawled, voice dripping with amusement. "You rejected Diggory because you—" he gestured vaguely at me, "—already have a date."

I glared at the table.

"Yes."

"And that date is me."

I considered throwing myself into the Great Lake.

"Yes."

Kenny was gone. She was collapsed against Blaise, shaking with laughter.

Draco, meanwhile, was having the time of his life.

"Merlin," he sighed, pressing a hand to his chest. "If I knew you wanted me this badly, Blackthorn, I would've asked ages ago."

I sat up so fast my head spun. "I DO NOT WANT YOU—"

"—except you do," Draco interrupted, grinning so wide I wanted to punch him. "Because, and let's not forget, you rejected Diggory for me."

Blaise nearly fell off the bench.

Kenny was in tears.

I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. "You are the worst."

Draco pretended to think. "Hmm. Am I, though?"

"YES."

And then, as if to truly, completely, and utterly ruin my existence, he leaned forward and said—

"Well, if we're already going together, why don't I make it official?"

My heart stopped.

Blaise and Kenny froze mid-laughter.

Draco grinned, ever the dramatic menace, and stood up.

"Selene Blackthorn," he said loudly, dramatically, insufferably, drawing every single eye in the Great Hall to us. "Will you do me the incredible honor of attending the Yule Ball with me?"

I stared at him.

The Hall stared at us.

Draco Malfoy, the most ridiculous, egotistical menace to ever exist, had just asked me out in front of the entire school.

Blaise was cracking up.

Kenny was shaking.

Pansy looked seconds away from hexing me into oblivion.

And me?

I was going to kill him.

But.

I mean.

It was already too late to back out.

So, taking a deep breath, I stood up, tilted my head, and smirked right back at him.

"Well, Malfoy," I drawled, matching his energy. "You were taking too long, anyway."

And the second I said it, the entire Hall lost its mind.

Draco Malfoy was not okay.

In fact, Draco Malfoy was throwing a full-blown, pureblood, aristocratic, how-dare-you-steal-my-thunder tantrum.

The second we left the Great Hall, he exploded.

"Taking too long?" he repeated, mocking my words like a bratty child. "Taking too long?! Oh, I'm sorry, Your Highness, should I have gotten on one knee instead?"

Kenny and Blaise were already dying.

"You should've seen your face, mate—" Blaise wheezed.

"I—NO." Draco spun around so fast his robes nearly hit me in the face. "She upstaged me! In front of the whole school!" He placed a hand on his chest, as if personally wounded. "ME!"

I crossed my arms. "You deserved it."

He gasped.

A full-on, dramatic, hand-to-heart gasp.

"DESERVED IT?" he repeated, offended beyond words. "Excuse me, I was the one who asked you out in the most spectacular, Slytherin-approved, public proposal! And YOU, Blackthorn, made it seem like I was—" he took a deep, dramatic breath— "—DELAYING YOUR HIGHLY IMPORTANT, MUCH ANTICIPATED INVITE!"

I shrugged. "Well, you kind of were."

Kenny choked.

Blaise started clapping.

Draco looked like he wanted to flip the entire castle upside down.

"This is BETRAYAL," he declared, arms flailing, voice rising. "I WAS GIVING YOU A MOMENT. A SPECIAL, WELL-TIMED MOMENT. A MALFOY-APPROVED, SOPHISTICATED MOMENT."

I grinned. "And I took that from you."

"YES, YOU DID!"

Kenny was wheezing.

Blaise was on the floor.

Draco, meanwhile, had turned fully away from us, arms crossed, sulking like an overgrown child.

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you... pouting?"

"No," he huffed.

I grinned wider. "You are. You are pouting."

"I AM NOT POUTING—"

"He's pouting," Kenny confirmed.

Blaise sat up, wiping tears from his eyes. "Mate, you lost. Take the L."

Draco turned on him so fast it was honestly impressive.

"I HAVE NOT LOST."

"You definitely lost," Kenny added.

Draco groaned so loudly that a few passing first-years flinched.

I patted his shoulder, grinning ear to ear. "It's okay, Malfoy. You'll get over it."

He dramatically shoved my hand off. "I WILL NOT GET OVER IT. I WILL REMEMBER THIS. UNTIL THE DAY I DIE. IN FACT—" he spun, pointing at Kenny and Blaise wildly. "YOU TWO ARE RESPONSIBLE. YOU ENABLED HER."

Kenny saluted. "Proudly."

Blaise nodded. "Would do it again."

Draco groaned again, dragging his hands down his face like a tortured soul.

And I?

I just stood there, watching Draco Malfoy mourn his lost moment like a true Slytherin prince.