31 OCTOBER, 2001
—
never dropping my hand as we danced
you drew a portrait in my mind
excerpt from poem #28, "strangers," in my poetry book aftertaste
—
A masquerade ball gives a perfect alibi to the introvert who wants to stay hidden from the crowd, but tonight it's a source of confusion for the introvert who is looking for a particular individual.
Draco was riddled with anxiety at night during the week leading up, so he finally caved and wrote to Anastasiya, asking if they could meet up before the dinner party and ball at the Flints'. It seemed she had similar worries. Halloween landed on a Wednesday this year, so Anastasiya told him she would be going home with Shreya after work to get ready together. This sequence of events led to Draco sitting back in the Parkinsons' living room as he waited for the three women to finish getting ready.
He knew Pansy was very particular about her makeup from the mornings she asked him to make her a breakfast plate back at Hogwarts, but he thought Shreya and Anastasiya would have been quicker. Instead, he's come to realize that Shreya puts a great deal of effort into her hair, and Anastasiya spends just as much time in front of the mirror tying her accessories in with her outfits.
Draco tugs down at the sleeves of his deep plum velvet suit and adjusts his monogrammed cufflinks, wondering if the purple was too much. He figures there has to be someone dressed flashier than him; it is Halloween after all.
Surprisingly, Pansy is the first to arrive downstairs. She must have finally perfected the eyeliner charm her and Daphne had been working on. Pansy is wearing a lavish black dress, which doesn't surprise Draco one bit.
"Pans, if you wear black every day, I don't think you should be allowed to wear black on special occasions," Draco laughs as he fiddles with the signet ring on his second finger.
"It's Halloween, Draco. Black is not only welcome, but encouraged. Besides, every day that I'm alive is a special occasion," Pansy replies, tossing her short hair back before resting her forearm on Draco's shoulder.
"You're right; what would I do without you?" He says with a smirk, briefly leaning his head down on hers before checking his watch for the time.
The truth is, he knows the answer. He spent so much of the last few years turning down dinner invitations and walks around the city, thinking himself to be undeserving. But punishment never feels satisfying, and he knows he was miserable in his self-inflicted confines.
"Do you want a shot?" Pansy asks, seeming to feel Draco's body tense as he sinks deep in murky thoughts. "I have some leftover rum from when I made tiramisu over the weekend."
"Yes, please," Draco whispers as Pansy gets up and heads to the kitchen. He had considered breaking out the bottle under his bed before he arrived, but thought it would be a good challenge to see if he could do without.
Pansy comes back with a bottle of Captain Copernicus' Astronomical Rum for Astronomical Wizards and two shot glasses that she seems to have collected on holiday. She carefully pours it out, knowing Draco will scold her if she wastes a drop. Then, like on many nights before in their youth, they bring their glasses together before raising them to their lips.
"Taking a shot without me?" Shreya comes padding down the stairs in a periwinkle gown, which Pansy's eyes light up at the sight of. She kisses the top of her wife's head as she reaches the two lounging in her living room. "You look beautiful," she says to the woman dressed in black.
Draco scoffs at their display of affection, to which Pansy laughs and swats at his cheek. "Pretty Boy is upset nobody will tell him he looks nice?"
"Don't call me that, Pansy." Draco rolls his eyes before grinning, "or should I whip out my second year nickname for you?"
Pansy screeches at him and pinches him hard, knowing he wouldn't dare utter his schoolyard teases. Shreya watches on in confusion as she pours herself a shot of rum, taking the glass between her fingers that have been painted a metallic black to match Pansy's gown. Similarly, Pansy's nails are painted nude with a periwinkle tip.
"What has caused this uproar?" Somewhere in the chaos of teenage memories, Anastasiya has arrived on the first floor.
She's dressed in deep grape, thin puffy sleeves covering down her whole arm. The bodice is delicately laced, hugging her tight before the skirt flows freely in an A-line style. Her left leg peeks out through the slit that sits low on her thigh.
Draco stares up at her before glancing down at his own purple ensemble, pursing his lips.
Pansy seems to be thinking exactly the same as him, because she exclaims, "you two are matching!"
"This was not planned," Anastasiya says quickly, gesturing with her thumb and pinky finger at herself and at Draco as she scans his matching suit and dress pants from head to toe.
"Purple is a rare color to be coincidentally matching in," Shreya eggs on, her wife cackling next to her. Although the two women had seen Anastasiya getting ready and sat with Draco before she came downstairs, the similarities between the shades of their clothing did not become apparent until they stood next to each other
Draco protests, "it's just like you said, Pansy; purple is a common Halloween color!" He begins pouring a shot for Anastasiya when he sees her eying the bottle, and he considers pouring a second for himself. She quickly throws the dark liquid down her throat, but no one ever could have noticed from the way her face remains expressionless the entire time.
"Remember the last time we danced like this, Draco?" Pansy says loudly as she checks on her lipstick one last time in the mirror above the fireplace.
Draco laughs as he recalls the ridiculous white bow tie his mother sent him just before winter began that year. "The Yule Ball — what an eventful evening."
"I'm still upset that the age cutoff was fourth years," Shreya says, standing up and leading the other three towards the door. She whips her head around to look at Pansy before asking, "why didn't you invite me? We would've had so much fun!"
"Well first of all, I didn't know you back then," Pansy says in playful defense. "Second of all, I don't know if I could've gotten away with inviting someone from another house. Oh, and I didn't realize I was allowed to like girls back then."
Draco turns to look at Anastasiya, who looks back at him mischievously before slipping a silver mask over the top half of her face.
—
25 DECEMBER, 1994
Pansy is picking enchanted snowflakes off of her blush pink dress when Draco comes back with fruit punch. Having both grown up taking ballroom dancing lessons per strict pureblood tradition, they stayed waltzing for much longer than many other students. Now, as some sixth and seventh years have taken over and requested more upbeat wizard rock songs, they sit on the sidelines, unsure of how to dance to this new sound.
As they sit sipping on plastic cups, Draco and Pansy watch the rowdy crowd of students, knowing their parents would rebuke the hellish chaos that Hogwarts has permitted. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices two girls coming towards him. The one with dark hair wears an Aegean blue dress whose top gives an illusion of stars from her chest to the base of her neck, and the one with strawberry blonde hair wears a burnt orange dress with straps that rest slightly off her shoulders. Draco hears them laughing loudly as they approach, perhaps also in search of a refreshing drink. The few years of French lessons have allowed him to eavesdrop a little, hearing something about the lead singer of the band on stage having hair like a mop.
"It's a shame these snowflakes don't actually keep us cool, isn't it?" Anastasiya says loudly as she reaches the table, both her and the girl she's with taking the empty seat next to Draco.
Draco turns to her, a muddled look in his eyes as he says, "I thought you told me you couldn't come with me because you already had a date." He holds tightly onto his cup.
She gives him a confused expression when she answers, "I do have a date; Eloise is my date," she gestures to the strawberry blonde next to her, who smiles back at both of them. She plays with the star earrings that match the top of Anastasiya's dress.
"I meant a boy date, Anya," Draco says, looking down at the floor where his feet tap rapidly. Next to him, Pansy stares intently, as if there were physical wheels turning in her brain.
Anastasiya glares at him as she replies, "just because we're both girls doesn't mean we didn't come as dates, Draco!" She reaches over to take a sip of his fruit punch before he can protest, and then she offers some to Eloise.
Draco's eyes are wide, but Anastasiya can tell it's not from the seizing of his drink. His brows furrow and she knows exactly what he's thinking. She tries to bite back a laugh as his face falls in revelation.
"Oh, don't worry," she scoffs at him. "I still like boys, too." Having refreshed herself, she stands up again before offering a hand to Eloise, and the two go back to the dancefloor to enjoy the evening.
Draco turns to the other girl next to him as Crabbe comes to fill the vacant seat. Pansy meets his eyes, the same puzzled look remaining on her face. They both go to speak, but no words come out.
Finally, in a room full of boisterous clamor, Draco breaks the silence between the two friends. "Did you know—"
"No, I didn't," Pansy replies, as she brushes more snowflakes off the silken skirt of her dress. "Would you have wanted to—"
"No!" Draco says quickly. "I wouldn't even know how to dance."
"That's a good point," Pansy says, looking back down at her lap after she finishes her cup of fruit punch. Her fingers tap on the cup before she continues watching couples dancing.
Some time during their epiphany, Professor Flitwick regained control of the music, and now conducts the orchestra through a sonata. Some of the previously energetic students have calmed down and now move at a much slower pace, but the majority have moved to the tables, disappointed at the change in energy. Draco's mind flashes through memories of watching his own parents dance at dinner parties, with Lucius regally leading and Narcissa graciously following.
"You should go dance with her," Pansy says as she continues watching the dancefloor. "You should go dance with Anastasiya."
Draco looks over at her. "Wouldn't that be weird since I came to the dance with you?"
"No, we used to switch partners all the time during our ballroom lessons," she replies. "Besides, it's not like we're dating, and I know you used to like to play this song on the piano."
He doesn't recall his brain commanding him or his feet moving, but soon enough, Draco stands behind Anastasiya, tapping her shoulder. She turns around, dazed at first before giving him a small smile. He holds his hand out to her, just as his father taught him, and asks her to dance with him.
—
31 OCTOBER, 2001
"We should really consider having masquerades more often," Draco says as he adjusts the black mask that sits barely allowing his eyes to be seen. "I really don't recognize anybody with these bloody masks on, which probably means nobody recognizes me either."
"I hate to break it to you," a voice from behind him says, "but very few people have a complexion quite like yours."
Anastasiya whips around as Draco stares in shock at the woman behind them, whose coily mane peaks out behind her gold mask. Her deep skin is illuminated by a matching gold halter dress, dipping low to expose her back. She holds a flute of champagne in the hand that isn't resting on the tanned arm draped across her waist. Draco's eyes follow up to the man who holds her, who is dressed in a luxurious black suit jacket with gold detailing. Both Draco and Anastasiya look up at the couple, Anastasiya's eyes wide and Draco's jaw dropped.
"Celeste?" They exclaim together, before turning to one another in further confusion.
"How do you know her?" Draco says loudly, both the volume in the party and his bewilderment fueling his volume.
"All Francophone witches know each other! How do you know her?" Anastasiya replies, taking a long sip from her cocktail. The Flints seem to have hired someone to create specialty cocktails for the holiday. She isn't sure what she's drinking, but she guesses there's tequila in her red and orange drink.
Draco clears his throat before answering, "Celeste transferred to Hogwarts and spent her last three years of school there."
Anastasiya's eyes dart back and forth between Draco and Celeste. "I'm assuming you at least don't know Maxon, then."
"You know Maxon too?" Draco exclaims, thinking he can't be any more shocked.
Anastasiya gapes at him. "Eloise used to talk about him all the time. He went out for lunch with us a few times." She looks over at Celeste's haughty smirk and Maxon's playful smile as they watch the revelation between Draco and Anastasiya. "How do you know Maxon?" Anastasiya asks.
"He studied at Hogwarts during our sixth year," Draco sneers as he looks at the other man.
"I take it you two didn't get along," Anastasiya remarks as she watches the two stare each other down in animalistic animosity.
Celeste scoffs and says to them, "behave yourselves, boys. I don't want to have to break up another fight." She laughs when Anastasiya looks back at her, eyebrows raised in confusion. "Well, it looks like I'm low on bubbly, and we may need to get another drink in Maxon to recover from seeing Draco, so we're going to the bar."
Draco blinks as he watches them turn away, and Anastasiya purses her lips as she exhales.
"I was not expecting any of that tonight," she says, still recovering from the several realizations that were made in a short span of time.
"I've seen Celeste at these dinner parties before," Draco says, "but I did not think she'd bring her little papillon."
Anastasiya looks back at him inquisitively. "A butterfly?"
"No, the dog," Draco says as he looks around, as if making sure nobody else is about to sneak up on him.
"Interesting," Anastasiya says. "I always thought of Maxon as more of a German shepherd." She smooths down her dress before they continue to walk through the room, perhaps to find a friend or to find some space away from everyone else.
Draco leads them to a dark hallway, illuminated solely by the light that shines into a glass trophy case, showcasing Marcus Flint's achievements in pro-quidditch.
"It's a shame you never got to see us play," Draco says as he watches the auric reflection bounce off the wall. "Flint was a brutal captain, but we scored a lot thanks to him."
Anastasiya laughs, "I'm sure it's nothing I didn't see growing up."
"What do you mean?" Draco asks. "I didn't know you played; you never mentioned that."
"Oh, I did play; you just grow used to not talking about it when the best seeker in the world goes to the same school as you. But my grandfather played for the Toyohashi Tengu after he graduated from Mahoutokoro," Anastasiya says.
Draco stares back at her, the shocked look making a return. "Mahoutokoro produces some of the best quidditch players in the world."
"Is it that big of a surprise that I have athletic genes? I was a chaser." She smirks as they turn around, making their way back to the center of the party. Along the way, they manage to pick up a few cheese and fruit skewers from servers making their rounds.
Especially in a room full of strangers and masked acquaintances, Draco admits it's a relief to have Anastasiya with him. It's even a shock to him when he thinks about how particular she is about the people she spends her time with, but in his aged reservedness, he appreciates her art of silence. It can be taxing to be around someone as loquacious as Pansy, but it also gets eerie to spend time with someone as taciturn as Blaise. Anastasiya, on the other hand, seems to read his energy and matches it, also seeking to conserve her own yet be in entertaining company.
"So did anything ever happen between you and Eloise?" Draco asks as they find a less busy corner to lounge in.
Anastasiya sighs, "I didn't try to keep in touch with her any more than I did with you. But one summer, I was in France and I couldn't sleep one night because something was just bothering me and the next thing I knew, I was writing to her. We met up two days later, and we ended up dating for a few months. It wasn't a long time, but it was... intense, to say the least."
"What happened in the end?" Draco adds, "if you don't mind me asking, of course."
She looks down at the dark hardwood floor, her eyes fixating on the cracks between the boards before answering. "It was hard to be in France."
"Didn't you spend a lot of your childhood there?" A thought that he's toeing the line crosses Draco's mind, but as usual, his curiosity gets the best of him.
"Some things change as we grow up," she replies hauntingly. "Do you want to go get another drink? I doubt Celeste and Maxon are still there." She points at his cocktail glass, now near empty.
They weave their way through the crowd, murmuring apologies as they brush past others and occasionally get bumped into. It's something eerily similar to running to class during exam season, a thought neither Draco nor Anastasiya wants to revisit. The bartender that stands by this time is either a vampire who's very good at pretending to be human, or a wizard who half-assed his vampire costume. He doesn't utter a word as he prepares a pomegranate mojito for Anastasiya, crimson for Halloween. Then, he passes an espresso martini over to Draco, the drink's dark shade matching the mask that covers the upper half of his face.
Draco feels the bitter taste slide from his throat to his stomach like an icy vapor, as if the late October air has been let into his body. Contrarily, the sweet and sour blend that hits Anastasiya's taste buds invigorates her senses; the dangerous taste of juice twists through her. Just as they turn around, they come face to face with another couple, whose perplexed expressions make it obvious they don't usually drink, much less with a Halloween-themed menu. The woman is wearing a silver dress that cuts deep in the front, satin and sparkle working together to accentuate her soft curves. Beside her is a man courageously dressed in an all-white suit, with silver suspenders serving to hold up his trousers and match the woman on his arm.
The woman gives Anastasiya a shy but warm smile. "I love this style of dress on you," she says. Her curls are pulled back in a loose bun, but a few pieces sit out to frame her face.
"Thank you," Anastasiya says, returning the beaming look. "Silver definitely is your color."
"I hope so; it's my favorite," she replies as she nods to the man beside her as he orders a blackberry cosmo for her before turning back quickly. "Hi Draco," she says softly, as if unsure of how he will react.
Draco nods slightly at her as he greets her. "Hi Elara."
"I didn't think you'd want to come to such a large party," she says, carefully taking the first sip of her cocktail.
"It's Halloween," he responds, "it would be a shame if I missed it, although it would also be nice if I could breathe in here." He points towards her glass, filled with a dark purple liquid that's almost black. "I didn't know you drank."
"Only socially," she says as the man she came with rejoins them, holding a pint of dark chocolate beer. "Same with Luca; we were both relieved to see they've brought out some sweeter alternatives for the occasion."
At the mention of his name, Luca nods, leaning forward to introduce himself to Anastasiya. "You didn't go to Hogwarts, did you?" He asks as he runs a hand through his tight curls. Although he doesn't seem to want to pay attention to anyone other than Elara, she feels his charisma shine through his pearly white teeth.
"I went to Durmstrang," she replies, stirring a drink. "Sometimes I recognize people who were at Hogwarts during my fourth year, but I heard so many names during those months I can never match them to their faces."
"I remember you," Elara pipes up, hoping not to be perceived as menacing. "You went to the Yule Ball with a girl."
"Eloise is bringing you lots of connections tonight, isn't she?" Draco says as Anastasiya looks back pensively, trying to recall any hints of interactions she may have had with Elara seven years ago.
Elara laughs, "she has a very memorable energy. She reminded me of sunshine in that orange dress."
"That's fair; not many people would dare to wear orange," Anastasiya says. Even tonight, as guests attempted to dress for the holiday, it seemed a general consensus was to stay away from looking like any sort of squash.
All four heads turn as an orchestra begins playing a dark nocturne in the next room, perhaps in ode to the moon. Wordlessly, Luca leads Elara away to dance, not before saying a quick goodbye to Draco and Anastasiya. Gradually, couples convene on the ballroom floor. Draco and Anastasiya stand in the hallway watching, or perhaps more intent on listening to the music. In the center, Theo and Melike glide away, her blood red dress flowing seamlessly behind them. She smiles brightly at him as he dips her, knowing he will not let her fall.
Anastasiya has never been outwardly romantic, and yet she has to admit there is something so endearing about the way they move together in sync, like there is no one else in the world they know better. She has spent many nights wondering how she could just let another person into her life, changing the trajectory of her plans. She has grown so independent in her years alone; it seems impossible to begin opening her mind up to someone else, her most secret and intimate thoughts let into the open. But right in front of her, Melike makes it look so easy to let Theo twirl her and guide her footwork. It's a small gesture, but the trust built between them is clear.
Draco's heart pounds at both the heat in the manor and the thoughts racing through his head. There must be some sort of pressure to ask Anastasiya to dance, but he knows she doesn't want the whispers and stares that come with waltzing with Draco Malfoy. On the other hand, it may be exactly what she needs to get her parents' badgering off of her back. This wouldn't be the first time they danced together, but it would most certainly be different. Last time, they were merely children, having fun at the rare opportunity their schools gave them to dress extravagantly and enjoy a night of distraction from their academic obligations. But while the past brings him comfort, he needs to focus on the present, and in this moment, he really wants to dance with her.
So, he turns towards her, feeling like this has taken him an eternity, and says, "would you like to dance with me, Anya?"
She shifts over to look at him. A smile creeps up slowly on her face, and she nods.
He offers out his hand to her, which she clasps tightly, and they make their way to the ballroom dance floor. Normally, he would try to dance close to Theo, finding comfort in having a familiar face nearby, but figures it's best to stay on the outskirts, allowing others to take the attention. He gently lays a hand on her waist as she rests her hand confidently on his shoulder. He guides their feet in beats of three, like he's done countless times with numerous partners before this, none of them mattering as much as in this instant.
—
i hope nobody is surprised that anastasiya is bi lol i love to self-insert
this is my favorite chapter i've ever written which is so funny because writing the yule ball flashback was kind of grueling. that itself was odd because i have wanted to write yule ball scenes for so long but i realized describing the hall was so annoying
leave me all your brain juice here! what did you like, what could be improved, random thoughts you had?
qotd: have you been to a dance or formal before? if so, tell me everything you want to tell me about it!
aotd: i only went to my senior homecoming and prom, but both times i asked a guy from another school because the guys at my school were crusty and i like to be in control lol. for homecoming we just went to dinner and then an escape room because why would i pay to dance in a gym? for prom our venue was a dock/waterfront and the view was super nice but our dj was shit and after the dance we got milkshakes and i was asleep by 12:45 cause i'm boring.
don't forget to vote!
i have a new drastoria fic called fearless that you should totally check out, especially if you're a swiftie ; )
have a swag day/night my fellow comrades