ℒℯ𝓈𝓈ℴ𝓃 ℴ𝒻 ℒ𝒾𝒻ℯ 𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠ℎ

❀ 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉ℯ𝓇 𝓈𝒾𝓍𝓉ℯℯ𝓃 ❀

❤︎𝓷𝓸 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓫𝓾𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓰𝓲𝓯𝓽𝓼, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔂𝓮𝓽 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓪𝓯𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶❤︎

Weary, I rouse myself from the embrace of my sumptuous bed, my gaze drifting to the resplendent calendar suspended above the opulent desk. Ah, the date, December 25, has finally arrived. I perch on the edge of the queen-size bed, allowing my eyes to wander and embrace the room's grandeur. A wry grin dances upon my lips as Draco dismisses this room as one of the smaller guest chambers. Indeed, some individuals possess a wealth that surpasses all bounds of reason. Though my own upbringing did not lack opulence, my family's fortune, unlike that of the Malfoys, has diminished over time, for my father chose a life of leisure without toil, resulting in a dwindling inheritance. A resigned sigh escapes me as I rise, shuffling towards the adjacent bathroom to prepare for the day's events. Uncertain of the appropriate attire for this occasion, I opt for a simple knee-length velvet dress, its sleeves gracefully reaching my wrists. I allow my tresses to cascade freely in gentle waves down my back, framing my countenance in an ethereal cascade. With a touch of mascara and nude-toned eye shadow accentuating my eyes, and lips adorned with a matching hue, I deem my appearance sufficient. After all, it has sufficed throughout the years spent in the seclusion of my own home. Draco, true to his word, has pledged to fetch me, well aware of my propensity to lose my way amidst the labyrinthine halls of Malfoy Manor. Only the sanctuary of the library beckons to me without fail, as if the books themselves whisper the path to their realm. With a few precious minutes to spare before Draco's arrival, I seize my book, settling upon the regal white and gold chaise lounge, and resume reading "Potions of the Modern Era." Yet, just as the narrative crescendos to its most enthralling climax, a restrained knock reverberates upon the door, jolting me from the literary reverie. Alas, at the zenith of all intrigue. With a sigh of resignation, I close the book's pages with a gentle thud, placing it upon the small table before rising to answer the beckoning presence beyond.

"Come in."

The blond mop of my dearest friend's hair peeks tentatively from behind the doorframe.

"May we... damn, you look resplendent."

A faint blush tinges my cheeks at the unexpected compliment.

"Do you think my attire is too formal? I was uncertain of the customary Christmas celebrations, so I dressed in accordance with our own customs."

"Fear not, you are exquisitely attired. Come."

Grateful for his reassurance, I retrieve my wand and follow the blond figure, traversing the grand salon. Breakfast shall be served after the exchange of gifts, requiring my utmost patience. Nonetheless, my excitement surges, for I anticipate the arrival of my own gift with fervor. Tonight, a lavish feast awaits us, followed by the enchanting spectacle of the Christmas Ball. Even the esteemed minister graces us with his presence, whether by choice or due to the Malfoys' enduring, or rather, resurging, respectability. I dare not conjecture further. At least his countenance holds no hostility towards me. Furthermore, Theodore's parents have proven less reprehensible than I had initially presumed. However, the laughter elicited by Draco's jest abruptly constricts in my throat as I discern a figure beside Lucius Malfoy. Severus Snape, draped in his customary black robes, stands with an air of enigmatic presence, forcing me to halt my every movement. As the blond collides into me, emitting an agonized groan, my professor's gaze lifts, his black brows arching in a mocking fashion towards my hairline. His dark irises, riveting and penetrating, lock onto mine, prompting me to hastily avert my gaze and clear my throat in mortification.

"Good morning, Professor Snape. Mister Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy." With a quick inclination of my head, I allow my hair to cascade forward, concealing my reddened cheeks beneath its obsidian veil.