Butterflies || Draco Malfoy

|8| THE BALL

So, Clara had no choice but to attend the one event she'd been dreading the most out of the entire year. As soon as she'd sent an owl to her mother, her mother's response was slightly annoyingly enthusiastic, mostly just glad that she wasn't so socially awkward that she couldn't find a date. Now she just dreaded the disappointment when she told them that she was just as bad as before.

As well as a response, she was also sent over a dress to wear only a day after the announcement. The dress was a light blue colour, but nothing fancy. The length meant that it reached the floor and the sleeves were long, which she was glad about, but it was rather irritating that the entire bodice was of a sheer lace fabric, meaning that when she tried it on, she almost gasped at just how much was on display.

"Stop messing with your dress, you look fine," Hannah assured her as she styled her hair. "I didn't think you were going to go to the ball. What happened to your plan of staying around here on your own?"

"I wasn't," Clara responded, tugging the dress up slightly on her shoulders. It only made her cleavage look worse though. "Maybe I shouldn't go."

"Do you have a date?" Hannah asked.

With a sigh, Clara nodded. Ron Weasley was going to be her date, one of few people that almost reached her level of awkwardness. It was probably too late to bail out now.

"Exactly," Hannah said, picking up a can of hairspray and spraying the contents into her hair. "There's no point in quitting now. Who is it?"

Clara admired the perfectly manicured state of her nails. "Ron Weasley."

"Oh, Harry Potter's friend? He seems . . . nice," Hannah replied before climbing back off her bed and picking up her own belongings to go after her own date, Zacharias Smith. "Well, you're done. If your hair falls out of the braid I did, you could always try a Sticking Charm," she suggested as she left the room. "I'll see you downstairs."

Hannah softly closed the door to their dormitory behind her. With the room now quiet and empty, just as she liked it, Clara took one final moment to herself, stopping in front of the full length mirror at the other end of the room. She rarely looked at herself in it, but at least now she had a reason to.

It was bizarre to her, to see her appearance change so drastically. Her long dark brown hair which was usually pin straight and covering her face had instead been tied behind her head, with only a few small curled strands escaping the intricate braid. Her pale skin appeared even lighter due to the shade of her dress, which sat comfortably over her quite slim build. Her lack of muscles may have been part of the reason she flopped at Quidditch.

Placing her hands awkwardly in her pockets, she petted Lilia one last time before taking a deep breath and opening the door, ready to take on whatever horrors awaited her in that Great Hall.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘ ༓ ∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Clara reached the staircase that led to the Entrance Hall but froze up at the top. There were so many people mingling about just below her, many of whom glanced up to stare at her suddenly altered appearance.

She was surprised that she didn't trip over entirely as she shakily descended the stairs. Once she reached the bottom, she was glad to find that Ron was quite literally just beside her.

"Bloody hell," Ron whispered in awe before quickly shaking his head back into reality as he eyed her up and down. "I mean . . . you look nice," he said.

Clara very hesitantly raised her eyes from the ground. She tried to stifle the strange squealing noise she almost made when she saw his dress robes. They were . . . traditional, to say the least, feminine with a touch of whimsy.