This one shot is a sequel to 'Of Pugfaces And Longbottoms'.
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Even with countless enchantments lacing the air, the room around you prickled with an underlying iciness, and you had no doubt that the world above the lake was white with snow.
But cold weather was far from the most important thing on your mind that evening, for the Christmas Ball was steadily approaching, and you were just adding the finishing touches to your outfit.
Turning to the side slightly, you examined your (suit/dress) in the mirror. It was a gorgeous garment, made out of smooth and expensive satin, and you ran your hands over it proudly, smoothing it out and smiling at your reflection.
Your parents had sent it to you especially for the Christmas Ball, and even though Draco had, to your dismay, asked Pansy out after all, you couldn't help but anticipate the event.
You had of course turned Longbottom down (rather promptly, you must admit), and shortly after, you were asked by Randolph Burrow.
He was most certainly no Slytherin Prince, but he was also far from a bumbling Gryffindor, so you would take what you could get.
When your eyes flickered to the clock mounted on the wall, you realized that you would be late to meet Burrow, and quickly stepped away.
You collected your purse (or not), and stole one last glance in the mirror before deciding you looked alright, if you said so yourself. And then you were moving swiftly through the halls of Hogwarts, shoes tapping on the stone floors.
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The Great Hall was decorated so beautifully that it took your breath away.
Snow fell from the enchanted white sky, vanishing before it reached the students, and drapes of icy blue and white hung from the ceilings and walls. Music was playing and the low buzz of conversation laced the ambiance.
You watched the crowds closely and with a soft but slightly sad smile as you waited by the punch bowl for your date, even though you expected that it would be safe by this point to admit that you had been stood up.
But then someone was walking up to you, white blond hair well combed but un-gelled, and looking beyond handsome in a sumptuous black suit that fit him just right.
His silver eyes caught the light in a way that sent their many colours twisting and swirling like the sky on the forefront of a beautiful storm. On his lips was his trademark smirk.
When he saw you standing there, alone, he put down his cups, one of which was adorned with the dark lipstick of a certain Pugface Parkinson, and frowned slightly.
"What happened?" He asked you. "Longbottom show up wearing the same dress (or suit) as you?"
You rolled your eyes and pushed him lightly, though your heart wasn't in it. "I'll have you know I'm here with Randolph Burrow." You hesitated, and then corrected yourself. "Or at least, I was supposed to be."
Draco understood instantly. "He stood you up?"
You nodded, and a look of irritation flickered across his face.
"Screw him, the asshat." He bit out, moving towards you. "Come on. You can dance with me."
You watched the pale adonis as he extended a hand, and then you raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?" You asked him, sounding doubtful.
He gave you a small smirk. "We can't let that outfit go to waste." He said, taking your hand and guiding you further out towards the dance floor.
You gave him a dubious look but followed him nonetheless. "What about Parkinson?"
His look of mischief grew as he pulled you into his body, hands going to your hips. "Screw her, too." He said lightly.
You rolled your eyes and gave him a disapproving look, but he was here, so close, and touching you like this... you could try to resist all you wanted, but you were human.
You gave in, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and swaying softly with him to the music, and Draco looked down at you gently, still smirking like an arrogant bastard. But he was amazing, and try as hard as you might, you couldn't get over him.
But as he leaned in closer slowly, forehead resting against yours, you couldn't help but think that just maybe you didn't need to.
And then his lips were on yours, and you were kissing slowly, deeply, as your fingers threaded through his hair.
YOU ARE READING
Draco Malfoy x Reader One Shots
Fanfiction"Draco Malfoy was ice. His skin was pale, his features were sharp, and his words were cold. He bit out insults and harsh truths like it was his role in life to do so, and his cool expression would tell you that he thought nothing of it. He was harsh...
