Potter's Twin Sister || Draco Malfoy

43

"Enter and take your seats quietly." Snape's drawling voice resonated from within the room, the designated entry point for all Slytherin students. "Girls to the right, boys to the left."

The corridor hummed with whispers as students fashioned their own interpretations of why the fourth-year and above students had been summoned to this gathering.

Speculations naturally revolved around matters tied to the Triwizard Tournament—though, to be honest, this notion had been repeated more times than could be counted.

Various entrances led into the room, causing a minor congestion as students filed in from different directions, each seeking a seat.

Just as I was about to step through the door, I found myself at a standstill alongside none other than Malfoy.

Dear universe, if you're attempting to orchestrate something, kindly desist. Much appreciated.

We shared a fleeting moment, locking eyes for a beat.

Then, with a customary smirk tugging at his lips, Malfoy gestured for me to proceed first.

With a defiant demeanour, arms crossed firmly over my chest, I stepped into the room, my expression an icy mask.

As anticipated, he seized a wave of my raven hair, playfully tugging on it.

I veered right while he veered left.

He bestowed me with a self-satisfied smirk and met with a resolute gaze that I aimed his way, which in turn seemed to fuel the curve of his lips.

"Amelia," Lyra beckoned from her seat, her hand motioning for me to join her.

As everyone eventually settled into their seats, Snape called for silence once more, commanding the full attention of the gathered students.

"The Yule Ball." The monotonous announcement fell from Snape's lips once the room quieted.

"It is a customary component of the Triwizard Tournament, an occasion for students from participating Wizarding schools to come together. An opportunity, as well, for us to interact with our foreign counterparts. Dress robes are in order, and the festivities shall commence at eight o'clock, concluding at the stroke of midnight on Christmas Eve."

A trace of smiles graced nearly every girl's face as Snape began discussing dress robes —a prospect of selecting a gown, crafting hairstyles, applying makeup— a realm of anticipation the majority of the boys in attendance wouldn't fathom.

"Now, the Yule Ball isn't merely an occasion for revelry, but first and foremost, a dance."

With this, the divide in expressions and the prevailing sentiments between the boys and girls became even more apparent.

"Silence." Snape commanded when the murmuring began to escalate once more.

"However, the relaxation of standards we anticipate for this evening will not compromise the behaviour we expect from Hogwarts students. Quite the opposite. I'd find it deeply unsettling should any of our Slytherins tarnish our longstanding, illustrious reputation for manners—dating back to Salazar Slytherin's very inception."

Why did Snape's gaze seem to linger on me?

"Formal balls are expected to attend in pairs but I wouldn't bother to search for —these days called— a date if not master the steps of the opening dance after today's lesson."

At the mention of the word 'date,' glances shifted between various boys and girls.

Don't look and certainly don't think about him.