The Manor was freezing, despite the roaring enchanted fires. Lucius and Narcissa stood at the head of the ballroom, the epitome of Pureblood perfection. And then there was Draco-leaning against a marble pillar, his silver-blond hair slicked back, looking bored with everyone except you.
When Narcissa asked for a "musical tribute" to the holiday, you didn't choose a carol. You took the stage, caught Draco's icy grey eyes, and signaled the spectral orchestra.
The room went silent as the first haunting notes of "Middle of the Night" filled the air. Your voice was a whisper, a secret meant only for him.
"I summoned you, please come to me..."
You saw Draco's grip tighten on his crystal glass. He knew. He knew this was about the nights you spent sneaking into the Astronomy Tower, the nights where the war didn't exist-only the two of you.
As the tempo shifted, the beat dropped into the aggressive, fiery rhythm of "Let The World Burn." The lyrics echoed off the high ceilings like a threat.
"I'll be the one to light the match... I'd rather watch the world burn than see you walk away."
The silence that followed was deafening. Lucius looked scandalized; the Parkinson girl looked sick. But Draco? He wasn't looking at his parents. He was walking toward you, his usual mask of indifference shattered.
"A bit dramatic, don't you think?" he hissed as he reached you, though his hand trembled slightly as it found the small of your back.
"You like the drama, Malfoy," you whispered, leaning in so only he could hear. "And you know I meant every word."
"The world is already burning, Y/N," he murmured, his eyes darkening. "We might as well enjoy the view."
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