"Didn't know you was into gingers, Malfoy?"
"Shut up Weasley"
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Gemma Weasley shared many similarities with her siblings, the ginger hair, pale skin, freckles and a super sense of humour, yet she was the one that stood out from them all. Even her tw...
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The moment we stepped into the Great Hall, the atmosphere seemed to shift. The twinkling lights, the floating snow, and the grand decorations all faded into the background as the whispers began.
Heads turned. Eyes darted between us. Some widened in shock, others narrowed in suspicion. I felt every gaze like a weight pressing down on my shoulders, but Draco kept his head held high, his expression unreadable. His arm, still looped through mine, was steady, a silent reassurance that I needed more than I cared to admit.
I could see Hermione and Ginny at the far end of the hall. Hermione had her arm looped through Viktor Krum's, and Ginny was laughing at something Neville had said. I quickly glanced away before they could spot me. I wasn't ready for their questions—especially not Ronald's inevitable outburst. But it wasn't just them I was worried about. Seamus and Dean would be taken aback, and Fred and George... Merlin, they'd never let me live this down.
Draco must have sensed my unease because he leaned in slightly, his voice low. "Relax. It'll be fine. We're just friends, remember?"
I gave him a small nod, though the pounding in my chest refused to settle. We were just friends—two people attending the ball together, nothing more. So why did it feel like something more?
The music swelled, and couples began to fill the floor, spinning and twirling in a beautiful dance. Draco turned to me, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Shall we dance?"
I hesitated, glancing at the crowd.
"You know i'm not really much of a dancer..."
Before I could protest even more, he led me towards the center of the dance floor. The warmth of his hand against mine was both surprising and strangely comforting. His other hand found its place at the small of my back, and just like that, we were moving, albeit a bit clumsily at first.
I could feel the eyes on us—on me—but with each passing moment, it became easier to push them aside. The music, the gentle rhythm of the waltz, and the steady presence of Draco started to drown out the whispers. We weren't perfect, far from it, but for a few minutes, it felt like we were in our own world.
"So," Draco murmured, his eyes focused on me as we moved. "You haven't told your friends?"
I swallowed hard, shaking my head. "I couldn't. You know how they'd react."
He didn't respond immediately, but I could see something flicker in his expression. "Yeah, I get it."
I felt a pang of guilt. I knew this wasn't easy for him either. Draco Malfoy, taking a Weasley to the Yule Ball. It wasn't just my reputation that was on the line—his was too. Yet here he was, standing with me in the middle of the Great Hall, not caring who was watching.
As we twirled near the edge of the dance floor, I caught sight of Ron. His eyes widened as he froze, mid-conversation with Harry. For a split second, I thought he might march over, but Hermione grabbed his arm, pulling his attention back to the conversation. I silently thanked her, but I knew this was only the beginning. Questions would come. Explanations would be demanded. And I wasn't sure how long I could keep up the façade.
