Lumos

41| Yule Ball

Three Years Ago . . . 

Books stacked in my arms, hair flying everywhere, I dashed through the halls of the Hogwarts castle, making my way back to the Slytherin Dungeons. I'd forgotten my essay on my side table, having let Tracey Davis borrow it the night before. Classes had just been dismissed, and the halls were filling up with loud teenagers.

"Oi, Steele!" someone shouted, causing me to come to a complete halt—or, trying to. My shoes screeched across the polished floors as I skid to a complete stop.

Catching my breath, I looked around for the source of the shout.

A boy, Gryffindor, was waving his arms and walking towards me, pushing past people. I cringed. Oh, please. What did he want from me?

As he got closer, I recognized him as Seamus Finnigan from the classes we had together. I set my books down on the floor near the wall, massaging my inner arms from where the books had left dents in them.

"Finnigan?" I asked, and he nodded, confirming his name. "What's up?"

"Honestly, I didn't want to do this," he said, scratching the back of his neck, "but . . . do you have a date to the Yule Ball?"

I stared at him, appalled.

"Is that how you chose to start off that question?"

"Oh," he started to sputter. "That's not how I meant it. But you see, Dean bet me five galleons I couldn't ask a girl from Slytherin to the ball, and since you're friends with Harry . . . I realized I had a chance."

I stared at him, my jaw hanging open. "Do you hear yourself, or did someone hex you to do this? Blink once if you're under the Imperius curse right now."

He shook his head. "Is that a yes?"

"Of course no—"

"Of course that's a no," someone interrupted, stepping in between us. Do you think we'd ruin our image attending a ball with the likes of you?"

I stared at the back of Malfoy's blond head, angered.

"I can speak for myself, Draco."

He turned, facing me. "You were about to say yes. Do you think I'd let you ruin the Slytherin image just like that? We don't mingle with Mudbloods."

"I'm a half-blood, you moron," Seamus scowled.

"All the same," Malfoy smirked. "Go on—git, half-wit."

Seamus looked over his shoulder at me. "I didn't mean it offensively. If you said yes . . ."

"No!" Draco and I shouted in unison. Seamus put up his hands, turning to walk away. I slithered in front of Draco, hands on my hips.

"What was that?"

He looked down at me, a sneer on his face. "I'm going to make sure you go to that dance alone."

"Why do you even care?"

"Look, no Slytherin is going with you, and there's no way you're going with a Gryffindor," he said, rasing his eyebrows, grey eyes mischievous. "That leaves Huffepuff and Ravenclaw. They're both dimwitted."

"They're smarter than you are," I shot back. "I don't see you having a date either, Mr. High and Mighty."

"Oh, give me a second." Draco turned, standing on his tiptoes to look over the crowd. His eyes brightened when his eyes fell on someone. "Pansy! Over here." I nearly gagged.

Pansy, looking absolutely gleeful to be called by Draco, made her way through the packed hallway, until she popped out in front of us.

"Pansy, you asked me a question earlier, and I said I'd think about it—"