The ballroom glowed like a dream.
Golden sconces lit every polished surface, making the crystal ornaments sparkle like stars that had decided to fall just for tonight. Long silk drapes framed the windows, and delicate silver garlands were strung above the marble archways. The music—soft, elegant, distant—fluttered around the room like the breath of a lullaby.
It was perfect. Too perfect. Like something preserved in glass.
I stood at the top of the sweeping staircase, my gloved hands lightly brushing the carved banister, eyes drifting down to where the crowd gathered like murmuring currents. Already, the ballroom was filling with people—finely dressed men and women, their faces gleaming with powder and politeness, their laughter too well-practiced to sound real.
I didn't feel like I was part of it.
Even in my carefully chosen pink gown, even with the silver jewelry and perfect hair and my mother's approving nod, I felt like something out of place. Like a painting hung on the wrong wall.
"Celeste," my mother's voice cut through my thoughts, smooth and expectant.
I blinked and turned, nodding. "Coming."
Together, the four of us descended the staircase—my parents in front, graceful and collected; Draco beside me, his expression unreadable but familiar in the way only a twin's could be. Our presence was timed to perfection. A family portrait. The hosts.
We took our places near the ballroom's entrance, greeting guests as they arrived. I smiled. I nodded. I complimented dresses and hair and asked after holidays. It was a choreography I had known since I was old enough to stand in dress shoes. Say the right thing. Tilt your head. Speak only when spoken to. Smile like your lips were painted porcelain.
My cheeks ached by the time the last of them had arrived.
The music swelled, and dancers took to the floor. I stayed back, watching the blur of gowns and black dress robes spin around the room, colors bleeding into each other like oil and water.
I didn't notice Theo until he was right in front of me.
"Celeste," he said, smiling too carefully. His dark green dress robes were sharp, tasteful. I wondered if his mother had picked them out. "You look... lovely."
I didn't answer right away. My eyes drifted past him to a tray of floating wine glasses, to the chandelier above us, to anything else.
"Thank you," I said finally, voice clipped.
He seemed to swallow the silence before speaking again. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"Just thinking," I said, turning slightly away. I didn't need to say what about. He knew. We both did.
Theo shifted, then held out a hand. "Would you... care to dance?"
I felt it. The burn of my parents' gaze from across the room. My mother, standing with her flute of champagne and her perfect posture. My father beside her, unreadable. Watching.
"Yes," I said, forcing my voice into something smooth, something agreeable. "Alright."
He led me onto the floor.
The music wrapped around us, elegant and slow. We moved like memory—trained steps, turned wrists, fingers that barely touched. Theo's hand at my waist felt more like a reminder than a comfort.
"You really do look beautiful tonight," he said quietly, after a moment.
I didn't respond.
He tried again. "The snow's a nice touch, don't you think? Makes it feel more like an actual holiday."
YOU ARE READING
human again / hp.
Fanfiction"I already forgave you, so why can't you forgive yourself?" She's a Malfoy. He's a Potter. Celeste Malfoy has always walked a fine line between the world she was born into and the one she chose for herself. At Hogwarts, nothing is simple. Not friend...
