**Lunaria Dining Hall | SpellHouse Mixer | Two Days Later**
The hall was overflowing with music, laughter, and magic. Floating goblets clinked midair. Golden confetti rained gently from the ceiling. Every student from all five magical houses was here — dressed to impress and watching, waiting, whispering.
And in the center of it all stood Meher Rai, in a silver corset dress and combat boots, holding her chin high like it didn’t matter that **everyone was staring**.
Because they were.
Not admiring.
But *judging*.
Words floated in the air — not just spoken, but spelled into whispers that only disappeared after cutting deep enough.
> “Homewrecker.” > “Backstabber.” > “She seduced her best friend’s guy.” > “He kissed her. That’s all she’s good for.” > “She plays bold, but she’s just desperate.”
Meher clenched her fists, heart pounding so loud she could barely breathe.
She looked up—and across the room, she saw **Zoya**.
In a deep red dress, sipping on a crystal flute, surrounded by enchanted butterflies and fake sympathy. People flocked to her. Praised her. Comforted her.
Aayan stood nearby.
And Meher’s chest tightened.
Zoya was smiling.
And this time… **Aayan was smiling back.**
---
**A Few Moments Later | The Magical Screen Reveal**
A large arcane screen shimmered at the front of the hall — a projection spell that replayed highlights of the year so far.
Usually harmless.
Tonight? Twisted.
Suddenly, without warning — the screen glitched.
And then—
A grainy **clip of Meher and Aayan in the Spell Archives** appeared.
The moment *before* the kiss.
The way he touched her face. The tension. The breathless silence.
Everyone gasped.
Laughter. Whispers. Shock.
> “She *really* did it.” > “What kind of friend does that?” > “That’s low… even for her.”
Zoya stood still. Glass in hand. Watching.
Because **she had cast the Reveal Spell** — tied to her ring, designed to show just enough truth… and none of the context.
Meher’s legs felt numb. Her skin flushed hot.
And just when she was about to run—
A voice boomed through the hall.
**“That’s enough.”**
Gasps.
Heads turned.
It was **Professor Aravind**, the most feared instructor at Lunaria — a powerful mage known for his brutal honesty and zero tolerance for bullying.
He walked to the front, expression unreadable.
Then he turned to the students.
“I have seen too many reputations destroyed by magic twisted with intent,” he said. “Let me remind you all: context is not just important. It is *everything.*”
He paused, eyes sweeping over the crowd. Then landed on Meher.
“She may be many things,” he said. “But tonight, I see a girl standing alone, and still standing.”
Silence. Guilt. Shame. Some students looked away.
Zoya paled slightly.
Aayan’s jaw clenched.
---
**Outside the Hall | Minutes Later**
Meher pushed the doors open and stepped into the cold.
She was shaking, tears biting her eyes — but not falling.
“Meher!”
Aayan’s voice.
She kept walking.
“Stop running from me,” he said, catching her wrist.
“I’m not running,” she said quietly. “I’m *done chasing.*”
“None of that was supposed to happen,” he said. “I didn’t know about the spell.”
“But you knew about the rumors. And you *still stood next to her.*”
He swallowed. “She’s… she’s been there, okay? When you wouldn’t talk to me. When you vanished.”
She turned to him now, face cold.
“So, what is this, Aayan? Are you *with* her now?”
“I don’t know!” he snapped. “I’m confused, okay? Everything’s messed up and—”
“I’m not your *backup plan,*” Meher said, voice trembling.
And then she walked away.
This time?
**He let her.**
---
**Back Inside the Hall | Zoya's Moment**
Zoya found Aayan minutes later, alone at a table.
“Hey,” she said, softly, sliding beside him. “Are you okay?”
He didn’t answer right away.
She placed a gentle hand on his knee. “I know it’s a lot. But I’m here. I’ve always been here.”
He looked at her.
And for the first time… he didn’t pull away.
Maybe it was guilt.
Maybe it was confusion.
Or maybe, just maybe, **Zoya was winning.**
---
Mehar's dress 👇
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Zoya's dress 👇
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