Only Us Under the Castle [Drarry]

Snape's Guide to the Waltz

Draco Malfoy watched with a mixture of curiosity and disdain as Potter approached the arena for the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. The dragons, magnificent and terrifying, were a fitting challenge for the champions, but Draco couldn't help feeling a twinge of disappointment that he wasn't among them. Not that he'd ever admit it, of course.

From his vantage point in the stands, he could see the Hungarian Horntail thrashing its tail, its eyes fixed on Potter. Draco smirked, his gaze fixed on his rival. "Let's see how you handle this one, Potter," he muttered under his breath, almost hoping to see a display of weakness. As the task unfolded, Draco's smirk only grew. Potter seemed to be doing well, too well for someone who appeared unprepared.

He couldn't help but recall consoling Potter the night before, albeit with a touch of mockery, telling him he'd do well and that facing dragons couldn't be worse than facing Voldemort.

Potter cast his firebolt skillfully, dodging the fiery breath of the dragon. But then, the unexpected happened. The dragon broke free from its chains and lunged at Potter. Draco's hand around the railings tightened as his expression shifted from smugness to genuine concern.

"He's losing, I'm winning the bet!" Pansy smirked beside him as the dragon chased Potter out of the arena, causing evident worry among the spectators.

Later, they heard the sound of a damaged broomstick nearby and saw Potter flying back alone, clutching the golden egg. The crowd erupted into cheers, even Weasley. Draco felt a twinge of disappointment, realizing he wouldn't have the opportunity to mock Potter as much anymore.

Draco sat at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, his gaze fixed on the Gryffindor table. He couldn't help but scan the faces, searching for a specific brunette with glasses and a scar. A pang of something twisted painfully in his stomach as he realized he was still hoping to catch a glimpse of Potter, despite his best efforts to push him out of his thoughts. The mere sight of Harry Potter stirred up a whirlwind of emotions within him, a mixture of resentment, longing, and a hint of something he dared not name.

A noise from the doors drew his attention, and he looked up to see Potter, Weasley, and Granger entering, laughing and chatting. Draco's lip curled in disdain. He knew the moment Potter reunited with his friends, he would be cast aside. It was a bitter reality that stung every time, a reminder of where he stood in Potter's world - on the outskirts, always looking in.

Blaise nudged him, teasingly, trying to lighten the mood. "I don't think Potter's going to pick his do-gooders over you, Draco darling," he remarked with a smirk, knowing full well the complexities of Draco's feelings towards Harry.

"I don't need him to!" Draco snapped, his tone sharper than he intended. With a curt nod to his friends, he stormed out of the Great Hall, overwhelmed by his conflicting emotions. The weight of his own pride and the ache of unrequited affection warred within him, leaving him feeling utterly drained.

As Draco made his way through the corridors of Hogwarts, his steps heavy with frustration, he couldn't shake the image of Potter's infectious smile or the sound of his laughter echoing in the Great Hall. It was infuriating how effortlessly Potter seemed to get back with Weasley after the way he treated him as his best mate.

Lost in his thoughts, Draco rounded a corner and nearly collided with someone coming the opposite way. He looked up, ready to offer a scathing remark, but the words died on his lips as he found himself locking eyes with none other than Harry Potter himself. The air crackled with tension between them, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, caught in a silent standoff fueled by years of animosity and unresolved emotions. But then, to Draco's surprise, Potter broke the silence with a tentative smile, his eyes softening in a way that made Draco's heart skip a beat.

"Malfoy," Potter said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Are you alright?"

Draco opened his mouth to retort, to lash out with the same biting sarcasm he usually reserved for Potter, but the words faltered as he found himself lost in Potter's gaze. There was something different there, something that stirred a flicker of hope within Draco's chest.

"I'm fine," Draco replied, his voice softer than he intended.

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The dungeons of Hogwarts had never seen such an unusual sight. The cold stone room, usually reserved for brewing potions and whispering secrets, was transformed into a makeshift ballroom. At the front stood Professor Severus Snape, his black robes immaculate, his expression one of barely concealed disdain. From where Draco stood, he could feel his gaze sweeping over them, a silent reminder of the standards he expected them to meet.

"Silence!" he barked, and the murmuring crowd of Slytherin students fell quiet, like obedient serpents awaiting their master's command. "The Yule Ball is an event of elegance and tradition. As such, you will learn to conduct yourselves with the grace befitting a Slytherin."

Draco straightened his posture, squaring his shoulders as if to show Snape that he was prepared to rise to the occasion. But inwardly, he couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation. Dancing was hardly his forte, and the thought of making a fool of himself in front of his housemates was enough to make his stomach churn.

Snape's voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and authoritative. "The waltz," he continued, "is a dance of control and poise. Two things I expect you to master as easily as you would a simple potion."

With a flick of his wand, a gramophone appeared, playing a slow, haunting melody that echoed off the dungeon walls. "Pair up," Snape instructed. "And for Merlin's sake, try not to tread on each other's feet."

The students hesitantly paired off, casting nervous glances at their chosen partners. Draco found myself eyeing Pansy warily, wondering if she would prove to be more of a hindrance than a help on the dance floor.

As Snape demonstrated the basic steps of the waltz, he couldn't help but feel a surge of frustration. "One-two-three, one-two-three," he counted out, his own movements precise and fluid. "Mr. Malfoy, this is not an opportunity for you to showcase your dueling footwork. Miss Parkinson, your posture resembles that of a hunchbacked troll."

He bit back a retort, forcing himself to focus on Snape's instructions. The waltz, he explained, was a conversation between partners, a delicate balance of give and take. It was a concept that felt foreign to Draco, accustomed as he was to taking whatever he wanted without regard for anyone else.

But as the music swelled and the students began to move with increasing confidence, he found myself swept up in the rhythm of it all. There was a certain satisfaction in mastering a new skill, in proving to himself-and perhaps to Snape-that he was capable of more than just brewing potions and casting hexes.

As the lesson drew to a close, Snape allowed himself the smallest of smirks, a rare display of approval from the notoriously difficult Potions Master. "Not entirely hopeless, still much much better than the Gryffindors," he muttered, his tone begrudgingly acknowledging our progress. "But don't let that go to your heads. You have much to learn before the ball."

The lesson finally ended and Draco let go of pansy, "Never again," she said.

"Agreed."

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When Draco waited with anticipation for the four Triwizard champions, he was expecting Hermione Granger to walk in with Potter. Figuring since Weasley already had a date, which he had no clue how, Potter would've been the one to win the girl but...it was Parvati Patil. Granger on the other hand had somehow landed THE Victor Krum, her hand intertwined with his and her face looking giddy.

For all he knew, Potter found himself having a small crush on Cho but she on the other hand was well, with Cedric. He could see Potter eyeing them envyingly. They soon all gathered in the center and began dancing to the music being played by the orchestra and the others joined in. Longbottom being surprisingly enthusiastic.