Everlasting (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

The Draco Ball

And so, the night was a huge success. You had shared a lot of laughter, sat with your friends, sat with your boyfriend, ate a lot of food, and overall you had a great time. Hermione had, for some reason, left early, and Ron and Harry followed behind very soon, and it appeared as though they were in a bad mood. Cedric, also, offered to leave, and you told him to go if he pleased and that you'd join him very soon. He was sceptical to leave you, but finally decided upon planting a kiss on your lips and making his leave, awaiting you in the Hufflepuff common room. He thus left with his friends, leaving you and only a couple individuals still around. The hall was almost empty, but you continued to pick at certain foods and dance alone with your drink on the dancefloor, not wanting the feelings of being a princess to drift away so soon. When, out of nowhere, you heard the clearing of a throat directly behind you, to which you turned around in confusion. You found the one and only Draco Malfoy standing there, in his perfect black suit which matched your dress ever so perfectly.

"Ew, it's you," you said, looking at him with a smile.

"You're all alone, like the loner you are."
"What do you want?" You asked, still swaying side to side with your drink, not letting him interrupt your independent dance.

He did not answer, however, but merely took out his hand and offered his palm to you, as though he were asking you for a dance. This, however, was enough to stop you from your dance as you stopped moving and looked upon his hand, then at him, then at his hand, then at him again. No words were exchanged, but he merely gestured his head towards his hand, meaning he wished for you to take it. You looked around the hall, seeing if there were many people left: indeed, some individuals still lingered about, but, for a single moment, you could not have cared less. A large grin rose on your face, and you placed your hand in Draco's, as he pulled you closer and placed his hands on your waist, as you yours on his shoulders. The two of you began to sway slowly, side to side, as you looked at each other with gentle smiles.

"You look," he paused. "You look okay."

"Okay?"

"Maybe a bit more than okay," he smiled.

"That's what I thought."

"You're supposed to compliment me, now."

You squinted your eyes. "You look, hm, not bad."
"Not bad?"

"A bit better than not bad," you laughed quietly.

"That's what I thought."

"Where is Mrs Malfoy?" You asked, referring to Pansy, and he only rolled his eyes for a moment.

"Don't. She's gone to bed." He paused. "And where is Mr Diggory?"

"He's gone to the Hufflepuff common room with his friends."

"And all your other friends?"
"Don't know."

The two of you fell into a silence, and continued swaying side to side to the slow music. You had one friend remaining in the hall, who you failed to notice, and this was none other than Ginny Weasley as she sat in the side lines and watched the two of you with a smile, shaking her head.

With an exhale, you took it upon yourself to make the next move. Gently, you rested your head against Draco's chest. He was taken aback slightly at this, but quickly adapted and moved even closer, so that your bodies were against each other, and it allowed you to rest with more ease. You closed your eyes and smiled gently, hearing his heartbeat against your head, and you even noticed his heart beat softly increase.

"Are you nervous?" You asked, not lifting your head.

"Nervous? No."

"Your heartbeat increased."

He did not answer. Perhaps, he had no answer. No explanation. And so, the two of you drifted along the dance floor for a while longer, embracing each other, with no words to spare. Soon enough, the room had emptied, with less and less individuals, so that even Ginny took one last glance, flashed a gentle smile, and took her leave, finally leaving you and Draco completely alone in the hall. The lights had soon dimmed, the music had faded. But you went on. The swaying did not stop; the peaceful atmosphere, the grace of each other's touch. You did not require music, nor lights, nor a fashionable atmosphere, for the feel of his arms around you was enough to calm you and spark the desire to remain there forever.

"How long have we been here?" He whispered, his head leaning against yours.

"I don't know," you whispered back, buried in his chest with your eyes closed.

"Everyone's gone."
"Good."

"[F/n]," he said, gently lifting his head up. You followed, and slowly lifted your head up to look at his. "It's time to go."

"But I don't want to," you frowned.

"And you think I do?" He smiled softly. "But it's late. He will be wondering where you are."

"And she where you are."

"Exactly."

"This isn't good," you sighed, stopping the dance and brushing your face. "It's so," you closed your mouth, at a loss of words.

"I know." He quickly fixed his suit. "But," he smiled, before taking off his blazer and putting it around your shoulders. "You still look good."

"Likewise."

"And you look even better with my blazer."

You smiled, taking a hold of the blazer around your shoulders and putting it on tighter. It smelled of him; so naturally alluring – a mixture of his natural, sweet scent alongside his cologne, and for a moment, you felt yourself daze into the smell and feel of it, not wanting to ever take it off.

"Oh," he said, approaching you closer again before reaching his arm up into your hair.

"What're you doing?"

He took something out of your hair, and then opened his palm to show you what he'd taken out; it was a pin.

"What do you need my pin for?"

"You've got my blazer. I've got your pin."
"It's just a pin," you smiled softly, shaking your head.

"Not just a pin. It's your pin."

Taking the pin out of his hand, you lifted your arms up, stood up on your tiptoes, and brushed his hair back with your hand before using your very own pin to pin his hair back, making him look humorously pretty.

"Do I look good?" He asked, laughing.

"Better than ever."

The laughter of the two of you slowly died down, and you were left looking at each other in an isolated atmosphere, knowing you are to leave by convention but pleading to remain a while longer, holding onto the final seconds of unity.

"Goodnight, Draco," you said finally, and he did not respond. He could not find the courage within himself to build up a response, but he watched you as you let him go, and made your leave from the Great Hall, having glanced him one final look just before your leave. The two of you smiled gently at each other, and only then did the absurdity of the situation hit you. But, really, you did not quite mind it; after all, that was who [F/n] Potter was – an individual which craved tension, excitement, moments in which she was close to dying. Indeed! Had that not been your desire when you were yet locked with the Dursleys? A desire for excitement and thrill; hedonism. You could not resist a smile as you ascended the stairs and strolled towards the Hufflepuff common room, holding Draco's blazer closely to yourself.