The Yule Ball

I spun around for the millionth time, running my hands down the deep navy fabric of my dress. Did I look good? Or did I look like I was playing dress-up in someone else's gown? Maybe my hair was too much? Maybe I should have gone with a different necklace? Oh God, what if I look like a disaster—

The door slammed open, and Kenny stepped in like an absolute goddess.

We froze.

For one full second, there was complete silence as we took each other in.

Then—

"OH. MY. GOD."

"Kenny, you look like—LIKE—YOU LOOK LIKE A FAIRY WHO WAS SENT DOWN TO DESTROY MEN."

Kenny gasped. "And you—ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! YOU LOOK LIKE A DARK QUEEN. A PRINCESS WHO KNOWS HER POWER. THE MOMENT YOU WALK IN, EVERYONE IS GOING TO DIE."

"YOU THINK?!"

"DO I THINK?! SELENE, IF I WERE INTO GIRLS, I'D MARRY YOU TONIGHT."

I grabbed her shoulders. "KENNY, IF YOU DON'T WIN BEST DRESSED, I WILL BURN THIS CASTLE DOWN."

She grabbed me right back. "IF DRACO MALFOY DOESN'T FALL TO HIS KNEES WHEN HE SEES YOU, I WILL PERSONALLY PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE."

"OKAY BUT WHAT ABOUT BLAISE?! HE'S GONNA LOSE HIS MIND WHEN HE SEES YOU. HE'S NEVER GONNA SHUT UP ABOUT IT."

"GOOD. THAT'S THE PLAN."

We squealed, jumping up and down like absolute maniacs, holding each other's hands.

Then Kenny stepped back, eyes wide. "WAIT. WAIT A SECOND."

"What?! WHAT?!"

She pointed dramatically at me. "WHERE DID YOU GET THAT DRESS?!"

I gasped, hand over my chest. "KENNY. WHERE DID YOU GET YOURS?!"

"IT DOESN'T MATTER—WE LOOK UNREAL."

"KENNY, WE ARE GONNA BE THE HOTTEST GIRLS AT THIS BALL."

"PEOPLE WILL WRITE LEGENDS ABOUT US."

"I AM SO READY TO MAKE EVERYONE CRY WITH MY BEAUTY."

"SAME."

We hugged aggressively, still shaking with excitement, before Kenny pulled back, eyes glinting.

"Now," she said, adjusting my necklace, "Let's go make these boys suffer."

I grinned. "Absolutely."

**Draco's Pov**

I wasn't nervous.

I was Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy wasn't nervous.

And yet, my hands curled into fists as I waited at the base of the grand staircase. The Great Hall was alive, glowing in candlelight, shimmering in silver and ice-blue enchantments. Music drifted from the enchanted orchestra, but I barely heard it. The students around me were an irritating blur. She hadn't arrived yet.

My chest felt tight, uncomfortably so. Annoyingly so.

And then—

I forgot how to breathe.

Because there she was. Selene.

She stood at the top of the staircase, bathed in the golden glow of the chandeliers, looking like something that didn't belong to this world. My heart stopped. Actually stopped. I felt like a fool—like a ridiculous, pathetic, completely smitten fool.

Her gown was deep navy, flowing around her in an ethereal cascade of silk, clinging to every curve, slipping like water over her skin. Her dark hair was pinned up, a few soft strands framing her face. And Merlin, that face.

Selene Blackthorn had always been beautiful—sharp, untouchable, breathtakingly infuriating—but tonight?

Tonight, she was ruinous.

A goddess.

And she was walking toward me.

She smiled, that knowing smirk playing on her lips, like she was aware of what she was doing to me.

I must have said something, but I couldn't hear it over the pounding of my own heartbeat. My throat was dry. My hands twitched at my sides. I wanted to touch her, pull her close, make sure everyone in this damn castle knew she was mine.

"Malfoy," she greeted me, her voice teasing, but there was something in her eyes—something warm, something soft. She was nervous, too. That realization sent a bolt of something dangerous through my chest.

I took her hand, barely suppressing the urge to press a kiss to her knuckles. I had never felt this before—this ache, this pull.

"Selene," I said, voice lower than I intended. "You look..."

She raised a brow, waiting.

"You look ridiculous."

She snorted, rolling her eyes, but her cheeks flushed.

"Draco Malfoy," she sighed dramatically, "forever a menace."

But she held onto my hand.

And I held onto her like my life depended on it.

The music played softly in the background, the golden glow of the Yule Ball casting a warm light over everything. But I only saw her.

Selene Blackthorn, in silk and midnight stardust, standing in front of me, looking like she had stepped out of the most extravagant dream I'd ever had.

She raised a brow at me, amused. "Are you just going to keep staring, Malfoy?"

I smirked, trying to snap out of the trance. "Can't help it. You look—" I exhaled sharply, my voice dropping into something quieter, something real. "You look beautiful."

For once, she didn't tease me back. Instead, her lips curled into something softer, something shy. That was rare—Selene Blackthorn wasn't one to blush. And yet, there it was.

She held out her hand. "Dance with me?"

"Of course."

I took her hand, guiding her onto the dance floor. The moment I placed my hand on her waist and pulled her closer, something shifted. It was different from the usual teasing, the bickering, the dramatic jealousy. It was just... us.

"You know," she whispered, tilting her head slightly as we moved in rhythm, "I was terrified you wouldn't ask me to this ball."

I scoffed. "Are you kidding? There was no bloody way I'd let anyone else take you."

She bit her lip, as if weighing her words. "Even Cedric?"

I groaned. "Oh, for Merlin's sake—"

She giggled, resting her head on my shoulder. "Relax, Malfoy. I turned him down, didn't I?"

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, squeezing her waist just a little. "You did."

We swayed gently, her perfume—something warm and floral—wrapping around me. I wanted to bottle this moment, keep it locked away somewhere no one else could touch.

After a while, she pulled back just enough to look into my eyes. "Draco?"

"Hmm?"

She hesitated, then smiled. "I think I might love you too."

It was over for me. Completely. Absolutely.

I didn't think. I didn't hesitate. I just cupped her face in my hands and kissed her, right there in the middle of the dance floor, as if the entire world had melted away and it was just us, spinning in endless, reckless, beautiful love.

SELENE'S POV

I had never believed in fairytales.

Not because I was cynical or anything—it's just that life had a way of laughing at the people who believed in picture-perfect endings. I wasn't the girl who sighed over love stories or twirled around dreaming of a prince charming. If anything, I'd always found them predictable, laughable.

And yet, here I was, standing in the middle of the Yule Ball, staring at Draco Malfoy like I was in one of those ridiculous romance novels.

It was unfair, really. The way he looked at me like I was something precious. The way the candlelight flickered against his pale hair, making him seem almost unreal. The way he always had this smirk, but when he saw me tonight, it had faltered, his lips parting slightly like I had stolen his breath.

"Are you just going to keep staring, Malfoy?" I teased, tilting my head.

He blinked, exhaling sharply before recovering, his smirk curling back into place. "Can't help it. You look—" His voice softened, almost as if he was afraid to admit it. "You look beautiful."

I think my heart might have actually stopped. Draco Malfoy, the untouchable, arrogant, insufferable Slytherin prince, was looking at me like I had hung the stars.

I held out my hand. "Dance with me?"

His fingers laced with mine immediately, as if he'd been waiting for me to ask. And just like that, he pulled me onto the dance floor.

Draco Malfoy had always been confident. He walked like he owned every space he stepped into. But right now, as he placed a careful hand on my waist and held my other hand in his, he was something else entirely. Gentle. Uncharacteristically quiet.

And maybe... maybe a little nervous.

I smiled at the thought. Draco Malfoy, nervous? Because of me?

"You know," I murmured, tilting my head as we swayed to the music, "I was terrified you wouldn't ask me to this ball."

His brows furrowed as if the idea was the most absurd thing he'd ever heard. "Are you kidding? There was no bloody way I'd let anyone else take you."

Something about the way he said it sent warmth curling through my chest.

But of course, I had to push my luck. "Even Cedric?"

His entire body tensed.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake—"

I laughed, resting my head against his shoulder. "Relax, Malfoy. I turned him down, didn't I?"

He exhaled, his fingers squeezing my waist ever so slightly. "You did."

We moved in perfect sync, our steps light, our bodies close. The music played on, and yet, it barely mattered. It felt like the entire world had blurred into the background, like nothing else existed except the space between us.

I didn't know what this was. What it meant. But I knew one thing: I didn't want to let go.

And then, because I had never been able to shut up when it mattered most, I found myself whispering, "Draco?"

He hummed in response, his thumb tracing slow, absent-minded circles against my skin.

I hesitated, my heart hammering so loudly I swore he could hear it. But then, I smiled, because I already knew the answer. I had known it for a while now.

"I think I might love you too."

His grip on me tightened. His breath hitched. And then, before I could even process what was happening, he cupped my face and kissed me—right there, in the middle of the dance floor, in front of the entire bloody school.

I heard a few gasps. Someone whistled. But none of it mattered.

Because I was kissing Draco Malfoy. And nothing had ever felt more right.

When we pulled away from the kiss, I felt like I had just stepped out of a dream—except this was real. This was happening. My heart was still racing, my breath uneven, and yet, for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like running from it.

I had spent so much time pretending I was unaffected, building walls around whatever I felt for Draco Malfoy. But in that moment, as I looked up at him, I realized the walls had already crumbled. The tough exterior I always held up—it was gone. Reduced to nothing under the intensity of his gaze.

I swallowed, my voice coming out softer than I intended, almost like I was under some sort of spell. "Strike that off," I whispered, eyes still locked with his. "I'm definitely in love with you."

Something flickered in his expression—something rare, something raw. For a second, I thought I saw his usual arrogant smirk falter, replaced by something softer, something almost vulnerable. But then, his lips curled up again, his signature Malfoy confidence slipping right back into place, though I could see through it now.

He chuckled, low and amused, but I could tell—he felt the same way. Maybe he had for a long time. Maybe he had been waiting for me to say it.

His hands found my waist again, and before I could process it, he was pulling me in for another kiss. It was slower this time, deeper, as if he was making a silent promise between each brush of his lips against mine. And when he finally pulled back, he pressed his forehead against mine, exhaling like I had just knocked the air out of his lungs.

"You're mine," he murmured, his voice dipping into something possessive, something almost desperate. His fingers tightened around my waist as if he was afraid I would slip away. "And I'll make sure nobody else's love ever matches up to mine."

I let out a shaky breath, my heart swelling at his words.

Draco Malfoy wasn't just saying he loved me. He was claiming me, promising me that this—whatever this was—wasn't temporary. That no matter who came along, no matter who tried, no one would ever love me the way he did.

And I believed him.

Because somehow, I already knew—no one could ever love him the way I did either.

It had been a while since we had been swaying to the rhythm of the music, lost in the moment, lost in each other. The night had been nothing short of perfect—something out of a fairytale, something I never imagined I'd get to experience. But after a while, the dancing, though magical, had me slightly breathless. My feet were starting to protest in my heels, and I figured a drink would do us both some good.

I tilted my head up at Draco. "Let's get something to drink?"

He looked at me for a moment before nodding, the usual smirk playing at his lips. "Trying to get me drunk, Blackthorn?"

I rolled my eyes, tugging on his hand. "Shut up, Malfoy, and move."

With that, we left the dance floor, stepping outside the Great Hall. But as soon as we did, the fairytale haze I had been floating in shattered at the scene in front of us.

A group of girls sat on the grand staircase, some openly sobbing into their hands while others tried to console them. Their beautifully done-up hair was coming undone, makeup smudged, dresses wrinkled. My heart clenched at the sight.

Merlin, not everyone was having a fairytale night.

I turned to Draco, my hand squeezing his. "Let's go somewhere else."

Draco, for once, didn't argue. He must've realized that the mood had shifted, that whatever was happening here wasn't something we needed to witness.

Just as we were about to turn away, we heard voices—raised and familiar.

"HE'S USING YOU!" Ron Weasley's voice rang through the hall, frustration laced in every syllable.

"How DARE you!" Hermione Granger's voice cracked, and when I turned my head, I saw her standing there, shaking with anger.

I stopped in my tracks, Draco halting beside me as we both looked at the scene unfolding.

Hermione stood in front of Ron, her eyes shining with unshed tears, her chest rising and falling rapidly as if she was struggling to breathe. And God, she looked beautiful—breathtaking even. Her Yule Ball dress had transformed her from the Hermione we were used to seeing into something out of a dream.

I leaned closer to Draco, whispering, "Viktor Krum is a lucky man."

Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Oh, please. If that walking lump of muscle has two brain cells to rub together, I'd be shocked."

I shot him a look. "You're just mad because he's a Quidditch legend."

Draco sniffed, feigning nonchalance. "I'm not mad. I just think his head is so big that it's a miracle he fits through doors."

I smothered a laugh. But before I could retort, Hermione's voice cut through the tension again.

"Next time there is a ball," she said, her voice shaking but firm, "pluck up the courage and ask me before somebody else does, and not as a last resort!"

My heart broke for her.

She was standing there, looking like an actual princess, and yet, she was crumbling. She had waited for this night, had hoped for this night, and Ron had ruined it for her. And even though Draco stood beside me, pretending to find the entire thing amusing, I knew him better. I knew that deep down, he wasn't really enjoying this.

"RON, YOU RUINED EVERYTHING!" Hermione's voice echoed as Ron stormed off, Harry trailing behind him, looking as if he had just endured an entire war.

And then, just like that, Hermione's anger dissipated, and what was left was heartbreak. She lowered herself onto the staircase, her hands covering her face as she cried.

I wanted to go to her. To tell her that Ron was an idiot, that she deserved better. But before I could even take a step, Draco gently tugged on my arm.

"Come on," he murmured, softer than usual. "She doesn't need an audience."

And for once, I didn't argue. Because for once, Draco Malfoy was right.