𝐎𝐃𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓 harry potter.

18: Not a Cinderella Story, Apparently

"Im standing alone
in a crowded room and
we're not speaking

And I'm dying to know,
is it killing you
like it's killing me?"

"IT'S BLOODY UNFAIR!" Ally fumed, her voice low but clearly agitated as she stabbed at her lunch. The news of Snape—yes, Professor Snape—announcing the Yule Ball to the Slytherins during Potions had completely unsettled her. And of course, he hadn't made it any easier. He wasn't the type to mince words or get swept up in the excitement of festivities, especially since Slytherins were supposedly accustomed to such formalities.

Ally shifted restlessly in her seat, her frustration visible. Across from her, Amelia and Lottie exchanged a quick glance before turning back to their Charms notes. Amelia raised an eyebrow. "You could always find an older boy to take you," she said, sounding far too nonchalant for Ally's liking.

Ally shot her a withering look. "You say that like it's a walk in the park," she muttered, still fidgeting uncomfortably.

Lottie, noticing her friend's agitation, reached out to gently pat her arm. "It's just a dance, Ally. Do you really want to get all dressed up just so some drongo in Drakkar Noir can grope you while you're stuck listening to a band that's a total load of rubbish?"

Ally let out an exaggerated sigh, as if it were the last bit of air she had in her lungs. "But think about it," she insisted, a dreamy look passing over her face. "The ball—the dress robes, the hair! I could put it in ringlets, like that Muggle princess we saw in that newspaper."

As third-years, they felt completely out of place amid the swirling excitement that filled the castle corridors. Older students had already been swept up in the spirit—and sometimes the pitfalls—of teenage romance. Younger girls, more daring than Ally had ever expected, were even plucking up the courage to ask older boys to the Ball. They'd heard whispers of a third-year Hufflepuff asking Harry Potter out, which seemed to mortify him, and—most shockingly—even a second-year had given it a try.

Their year felt like it was left behind, stuck in the in-between stage—too old to ignore the drama, too young to participate fully. Ally's year hadn't been given the same special privilege to attend the Ball or play games during classes, but the prospect of it still hung over like an unwanted visitor. It seemed to be all anyone could talk about, from the youngest first-years to the seasoned seventh-years.

"Maybe Blaise Zabini will ask you," Amelia teased, her voice low as Zabini and his group walked into the Great Hall. Their sleek, dark robes trailed behind them, some adorned with glittering family crests—like Draco Malfoy's, gleaming under the bewitched ceiling—as they murmured quietly to one another, occasionally letting out low, smug laughs.

Ally shivered, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "Godric, no," she muttered, her tone half-snobbish. "They're just so... rich."

Amelia laughed, nudging her playfully. "What a snob you are! Objecting poor Zabini because of his wealth! He can't help it."

Ally shook her head, trying to shake off the sudden cold shiver that ran down her spine. She glanced back at the boys, who seemed perfectly at ease, exuding an air of superiority. "There's just something about them," she added, "like they've never had to work for anything. It's unnerving."

The moment Ally's gaze met Blaise's, she quickly looked away, her nerves getting the better of her. She turned back to her friends, crossing her arms in an attempt to appear casual. "So, I'm guessing neither of you are planning on going?" she asked.

Amelia gave a small shrug, her eyes still focused on her Charms notes. "Nope."

Ally's mind still swirled with thoughts of the Yule Ball as they left the Great Hall. She needed a break, so she decided to head for her twin at the courtyard, merrily laughing with Gryffindors her year. The girls looked up, sitting near the edge of the stone fountain, furrowing their brows at the sight of Ally. But Ally was half shameless and the other half, dense. She squeezed herself between a girl and Ginny.