The Dragon in The Ice Fortress- Draco Malfoy

25

The night of the Yule Ball had arrived, and despite my best efforts, I still hadn't found a date. A part of me felt disappointed, but I was determined not to let it ruin my night. After all, the Ball wasn't just about having a date—it was about celebrating and enjoying the rare moments of fun amidst the chaos of the Triwizard Tournament.

Standing in front of the mirror in the Slytherin girls' dormitory, I took one last look at myself. I had chosen a black beaded gown, sleek and elegant, with a fitted bodice and a soft sweep of fabric that cascaded down to the floor. The beads shimmered faintly in the candlelight, catching every movement as I turned. My hair was swept back into loose waves, and I had taken extra time to get the makeup just right—bold enough to match the gown, but not overwhelming.

I couldn't help but smile a little at my reflection. The dress made me feel confident, and if nothing else, I was going to enjoy myself tonight. It didn't matter if everyone else had someone to dance with; I could still have fun. I wasn't going to let anything—especially Draco's silence—dampen my spirits.

With a deep breath, I grabbed my clutch and made my way down the stairs, mentally preparing myself for whatever the evening might bring. The soft murmur of voices and the distant sounds of music from the Great Hall grew louder as I approached, and my excitement started to build.

Tonight, I was going to make the most of it, no matter what.

.............................................

I push through the golden oak doors, and the crisp air greets me, sending a shiver down my bare arms. The cold feels refreshing against my skin. I step onto the terrace and take in the scene below. The grand hall is alive with hundreds of students from Hogwarts and Beauxbatons, mingling, dancing, and enjoying themselves. It's a beautiful chaos, filled with familiar faces and dazzling lights.

My gaze lands on Harry and Ron, slumped together on a small bench, clearly in low spirits. Poor Padma and Parvati are left to manage their sulking. Ron's eyes dart toward Hermione, and my heart twinges with sympathy. I can see how much he cares for her. But Hermione looks radiant tonight in a stunning periwinkle gown, swirling elegantly with Viktor. She deserves every bit of joy, and I smile to see her so at ease.

I continue to observe from above, savoring the elegance of the evening. Despite myself, I find my eyes repeatedly drawn to Draco. He's wearing a sharp black suit that accentuates his strong arms and broad shoulders. The stark contrast of the black against his pale skin and hair makes him look even more striking. He seems almost otherworldly tonight—more defined, his cheekbones sharper, and his eyes a piercing silver. The tension in his jaw makes him look older and more intense, not the boy I've known all these years.

Our eyes lock, and this time, I hold his gaze. I refuse to look away, determined to keep my expression neutral. His usual smirk is absent as he takes in the sight of me. I notice his jaw tighten and his eyes darken. The warmth in my cheeks intensifies. Is Draco Malfoy actually eyeing me?

Before I can process this, Pansy pulls him away, leading him to the dance floor- she clings to his arm with a possessive grip, glaring daggers at anyone who dares to glance their way. She's wearing an overly frilly, pink gown that doesn't suit her at all. If we weren't on such bad terms, I would have tried to persuade her to wear something else.

Curiosity piqued, I start down the grand staircase, maneuvering carefully in my long, tight dress. I hope I don't trip and make a fool of myself. Theo spots my struggle and offers me his elbow with a charming smile.

"Theo, hey," I greet him, gratefully accepting his help. "Thank you."

"How's your night going, Thalia?" he asks, guiding me down the stairs. I glance at him, noticing how dashing he looks in his dark grey suit. It's a perfect fit.