Hogwarts: a school of Witchcraft and Love (Tom Marvolo Riddle x F!reader)

Chapter 6-06

(A/N: slightly NSFW about midway through)

The sofa was soft as a cloud but it might have been filled with rocks for all the comfort it brought. Your muscles were knotted tight as old cord.

Alyssa would have loved this. Back when you were roomies, you played dress-up by pulling the sheets from the bunks and wrapping them around yourselves.

But she wasn't around, and even if she was, you heavily doubted Abraxas would let her step a foot inside his home without you going on your knees and begging your head off for it.

Troubling. You were finding it troubling that you were starting to forget what her laughter sounded like.

With her not here, one of the many maids took over the role as clothing-fitter and helping you find the perfect dress for the ball, rifling through a big, double-doored wardrobe that dominated an entire wall.

The bedroom was something else. Generously sized, the walls papered with flecked gold, and an azure carpet that ran from wall to wall so thick it just about swallowed your feet.

The guest bed itself featured an ornately crafted mahogany headboard and was draped with satin covers, above which was another crystal-drop chandelier. It was a far cry from the tiny bedroom you'd slept in your whole life.

While the maid rummaged through the diverse clothes, you rummaged through your head. Alongside the daytime outfits and nightwear, there was a glittering assortiment of formal gowns. Definitely not adult sized, which made you wonder what Abraxas did with this much girl stuff.

Hah! What if his ego was so big he cosplayed as his own dates? Maybe that was why he had been so angry at Will during Halloween-Will pulled the look off better than Abraxas himself.

"This one could be nice," the maid pulled out an ivory laced dress. "Fits your figure."

New clothing like these were a luxury you never had, as you'd relied on castoffs from volunteers, and despite yourself, you were drawn to the wardrobe. Would it be that bad to dress up prettily? Just for one night?

You touched the fabric of the dress that probably cost a fortune. If only Malfoy would let you keep any of this stuff-you'd be able to sell it for more Galleons than you'd otherwise see your whole life.

And yes, you knew that was hypocritical. This being said by the same girl that once swore to sell a broomstick because you stood by your morals, and look at you now.

The maid, Esmee, who definitely had not hit her thirties yet, rummaged through the clothing a bit longer and then pounced on the sofa, next to you. It took a while of coaxing and promising she didn't have to keep a professional posture around you, because you didn't want to be anything like the owners of this household.

"Any idea who you'd like asking you to the ball?" You heard her ask you.

You scoffed and then looked at her from the side. "Not really."

Esmee pushed her shoulders back, green gaze even more engaging. "No? Is there no lucky one you're interested in?"

"No," you did not relent.

The one guy you'd prefer was not the type to go to a ball, let alone dance.

You shouldn't care.

But you did.

That would be different if Ali was.... Among the living. You wouldn't need a guy, not caring about dancing because neither of you could, even under McGonagall's tutelage. So, you both would just be bumping into each other and trampling on each other's feet and laughing your way across the floor. You'd discuss the prettiest boys at the ball, and you would have fun doing it.