My dearest Bunny,
Happy Christmas! Or as Egyptians would say in any given occasion kol sana w enti tayyeba :)
I hope you have an amazing holiday and hopefully the Ball will go smoothly. I've exerted my older brother powers and instructed (forced) George to carry out my duties, so that you don't have to rely on Harry Potter — or Godric forbid, Lee Jordan.
Your favourite twin — don't worry, I won't tell Fred— has been specifically told to not let you fall, so worry not bunny, you are in good hands. All in all, all of my siblings — yes, Ginny and also, believe it or not PERCY — have strict orders to make sure you have the best time and also to take lots of pictures to always remember this special night. My only wish is that you enjoy yourself as much as possible, and to that end, I have bugged and will continue to bug every person I know :)
Just know that I'll be thinking of you, Malak. As a matter of fact, a day never ends without a thought of you. A moment never passes by without my heart reminding me of how much you mean to me. I can't wait to see you again, bunny. I can't wait to hold you in my arms.
I know it's been a rough couple of months, but it will all be alright the second I see those green eyes of yours again. The second I see you smile. I live for that, Malak, be sure of that.
Always.
- C
The last paragraphs of the letter Malak Aboul Gheit received on that Christmas morning seemed to be slightly smudged. The sender had taken the time to write over it again, but it was obvious that the original writing had blurred in certain spots, as if small droplets of water had fallen on it.
Perhaps Charlie had written it on a rainy morning. But in Romania and Scotland alike, winter had brought heavy snowstorms. Perhaps those were snowflake marks, then.
Malak couldn't help to shed a tear or two thinking about it.
"Bas ya Loli (enough, ya Loli)," Rawia spoke with a soft smile, as she sat on Malak's bed next to her, looking over her shoulder to scan through the letter.
"Howwa wahashni, ya Roro (I miss him, ya Roro)," Malak confessed, allowing herself to slide on to her, until she rested her head on her friend's shoulder
"Aiwa akeed, bas khalas ya Malak (of course, but that's it, ya Malak)," her friend insisted. "You shouldn't cry. Yalla nfter? (Let's go have breakfast?)"
"Mesh adra (I don't feel like it,)" Malak replied, biting herself in the depths of her bed.
Rawia Zaghloul had never been one to take no for an answer, and she knew perfectly well how to get her childhood best friend moving.
"Yalahwi el bard da, ya Roro! (Goodness, the coldness, ya Roro," Malak hissed, as soon as the warm duvet was violently taken away.
Malak couldn't bring herself to eat much at lunch, dreading the evening that was to come, but she welcomed the snowball fight that was orchestrated by the twins against Harry and Ron. Hermione however, chose to watch rather than join in, and at five o'clock said she was going back upstairs to get ready for the ball.
"What, you need three hours?" said Ron, looking at her incredulously and paying for his lapse in concentration when a large snowball, thrown by George, hit him hard on the side of the head.
"Malak, you should come too," the witch suggested.
"Absolutely not," refused the Egyptian. "I'll take exactly 20 minutes to be ready."
"Actually, we need to go too" George announced, making Malak frown.
"We need to send a letter," Fred explained quickly.
"Bagman will be at the Ball, you know?" Malak sighed — if they'd let her intervene, they wouldn't be sending letters anymore.
Ron and Harry seemed to be confused, and Malak assumed they didn't know about the betting incident.
"Would you drop it?" Fred was more than done with the subject.
"If you would let me help you, I wouldn't pester you about it," Malak remarked.
"Let's go to the dorms," George grabbed her arm, and started dragging the Egyptian sorceress along the snow.
"I don't want to!" She protested.
"Take a nap or something!"
Malak rolled her eyes, but allowed George to carry her back to the Gryffindor Tower. Perhaps a nap wasn't such a bad idea.
"GOOD GODRIC!" Ginny Weasley exclaimed, her jaw dropping dangerously close to the floor.
Malak gasped, looking around her to try to find out what could have caused Ginny's reaction.
The Egyptian had decided to get dressed at the 3-year dormitories because at her own dorms the 'Malak you need to star' and the constant calls for make-up items she had never heard of became too much.
Ginny had originally asked to get dressed with them, but she didn't dislike the idea of just Malak and her. The Egyptian was helpful and skilled with magic, so she was able to adjust Ginny's dress to perfection, and actually she welcomed the stress-free environment. The five minutes she had spend with the 6-years were not peaceful at all.
"I can't believe you!" Ginny pointed out in her direction.
"Me?" Malak asked, "what have I done!?"
"Nothing!" Ginny spoke, "you literally just braided your hair and you already look great! It's unfair!"
Malak was visibly relieved when Ginny finished the sentence, and she released a breath she didn't know she was holding before side hugging the other girl.
"I thought something actually happened, Gin!"
"I love your dress, Malak."
Upon hearing those words, Malak did something that she rarely did. She took a moment to look at her reflection in the mirror next to Ginny's bed, taking on the image of herself.
Ginny was right — the dress was, simply put, a piece of art. The way the golden embellishments interlaced with the elaborate beading and embroidery was extremely flattering, sophisticated and elegant. If magnificence could take the form of a dress, it would be that one — a gown so beautiful and ethereal that it seemed unreal, as if were picked out of a fantasy world.
Malak could not quite understand it. She was not very fond of dresses or gowns in general, she never really felt like herself in them. But this particular dress... It was not just the golden sequence and beads or the intricate almost pharaonic-like patterns; for the first time, Malak felt like she owned the dress, she felt like herself. Not only that, she felt like the best version of herself.
Suddenly, the Egyptian heard a click, and she turned around to see Ginny taking a picture.
"For Charlie," the youngest Weasley smiled, making Malak return the gesture. "I think we are ready to go."
And with that, they set off downstairs.
The common room looked strange, full of people wearing different colours instead of the usual school uniforms. For a second, Malak was relieved that none of her friends were there. Until she realized that Neville Longbottom was actually there and she was going to have to walk alone to the entrance hall.
"Malak I think you are running a bit late," Neville informed her. "Harry and Parvati are already there. And your friends too."
She thanked Neville for the information and mentally cursed herself.
How is it that I always manage to be late? I bet Rawia is not ready either...
Egyptians were not know for their punctuality and both Malak and Rawia were true to that stereotype. Running down the stairs of Hogwarts was a painful reminder of it — but better that than risking arriving at 8:01 and having to hear Professor McGonagall.
The entrance hall was packed with students, all waiting for the doors of the Great Hall to be open.
Malak spotter Harry and Ron first, thanks to the bright colors worn by the Patil twins, just when Ron seemed to be squatting down behind Harry, probably because Fleur Delacour was passing with Roger Davies.
"Where is Hermione?" he said.
"I didn't see her," Malak spoke, and her words seemed to startle the group of four, whose heads turned to look at her.
"Who are you?" The twin wearing blue asked in a rather annoyed tone.
"Malak, hi, nice to meet you," the Egyptian extended her hand for the other girl to take it.
"No way," was her reply, throwing Malak a bit off balance, just when the front doors opened and the Durmstrang students entered with Karkaroff. And Hermione, but none of the four seemed to realize.
Then Professor McGonagall's voice called, "champions over here, please!"
That call set Malak in a quest to trying to find her partner in the middle of the crow, as the chattering crowd seemed to part to let them through.
"Gheit, where is your partner?" McGonagall asked, visibly irritated, making all champions and their partners turn to look at her.
Fleur seemed specially surprised. "Oh là là, tellement sympa ta robe, Malak (Oh dear, your dress is so beautiful, Malak)."
"Merci, Fleur," Malak's mind was off for a few seconds, since she had not expected a compliment from the French girl, "la tienne aussi, mais tu n'en as pas besoin (yours too, but you don't need it)."
"T3aris (ass-kisser)," Rawia coughed behind her, marking Malak turn around and nudge her while trying to suppress her laughter.
"Ya kalba (bitch)," the Egyptian champion smirked.
"Kont ha2olek shaklek gamila awi bs khalas (I was going to tell you, you look very beautiful, but whatever)," her friend joked playfully, smiling widely.
"Enti elli gamila (you are the beautiful one)," Malak's lips curled up in a smile, as she opened her arms to embrace her friend. "Mashallah, ya Roro bgad."
Rawia hugged her.
"Who is—?" Fred started, but Lee interrupted him, "no way, whaaat!?"
Malak laughed, "guys come—"
"Gheit," the firm voice of Minerva McGonagall cut their comments and laughs effectively, "who is your partner?"
"George," she replied shortly, pointing at him, who hadn't uttered a word so far.
"The rest of you," the head of the Gryffindor house spoke harshly as she held George's arm, "inside, now!"
Apparently the Champions were to wait on one side of the doors while everyone else went inside, and they they were to enter in procession when the rest of the students had sat down.
"You look good, Mals," George complimented her.
"You don't look so bad yourself, Georgie," Malak adjusted his tie, "maybe dressrobes is the go-to look for you."
"Maybe dresses is yours too," the twin smiled.
"I won't promise anything."
Just then McGonagall placed them between Fleur and Roger, and Hermione and Viktor, making Harry and Parvati last.
The doors finally opened, and they started marching in as the whole student body applauded.
"Why are you so damn tall?" Malak whispered.
"Watch your mouth or you'll get to dance with Lee," George ticked her side, almost making her trip and both of them laugh as they reached the large round table at the top of the Hall, where the judges were sitting.
"If you do that, I'll tell your brother."
"Which one?"
"My boyfriend, obviously," Malak smiled, remembering her resolve, "he will send a dragon to bite your ass."
"After you embarrass yourself in front of the entire school, you mean?" George drew out an empty chair for her, as they both giggled.
"Would the two of you stop it?" Percy Weasley reprimanded from Harry's side. "It is really not appropriate."
"Good night to you too, Perce," George rose a hand and his voice to greet his brother, much to his annoyance.
Percy ignored them, and instead turned his attention to Harry.
"I feel sorry for him, really," George whispered to Malak, "having to stand Percy the whole dinner."
"I wonder if Crouch still calls him 'Weatherby'," Malak snickered.
"Malak, stop, you are going to make me die!" George was really trying to resist bursting out laughing.
Suddenly, different dishes started to fly in front of people at their table, making the both of them realize that they hadn't even looked at the menu.
After their food reached them, Malak took a moment to go over the people around the table. The conversations were weirder as she advanced.
"Sorry I dragged you to this madhouse" Malak told George; she really he deserved it. "I'm beginning to think it should had been Lee."
"Are you crazy?" He nudged her, "can you imagine Lee at this table?"
The thought of it just made Malak laugh loudly, earning the pair all sorts of awful looks.
"Plus he might get touchy on the dancing."
"If he does that, a dragon would eat him for breakfast," the Egyptian couldn't stop laughing.
"Correction, dragon tamer," George added between snickers.
"You don't really think Charlie is jealous, do you?" The Egyptian questioned.
"Charlie, my brother?" George asked incredulous, "yes, he is, Mals, what are you saying?"
"What? I never got that impression, really," Malak frowned slightly. "I mean he has said it, but I never really thought it was a fact."
"Oh, you should have heard him at the World Cup..."
"Wait, what?? We weren't even dating yet!"
"My point exactly."
That seemed to shut Malak up, until then caught Hermione talking to Viktor as if he was baby "Her-my-oh-nee," she said slowly and clearly. "Herm-own-ninny."
Malak and George couldn't handle it, they shared a look that forced the Egyptian to gulp her ice-cream so fast that it almost froze her brain.
When all the food had been consumed, Dumbledore stood up and asked the students to do the same. Then, with a wave of his wand, all the tables zoomed back along the walls leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform along the right wall, where The Weird Sisters will be placed.
Suddenly the lanterns on all tables had gone out — all but one.
"Here we go," Malak breathed out, visibly nervous, but definitely not as much as Harry Potter, who remained seated and staring at the band, despite Parvati's efforts.
"Malak!" Viktor have shouted half whispered, making all champions and their partners look at him and then at her. "Good luck!"
Malak could feel her cheeks burning. "Damn Krum!" She whispered, only for George to hear.
"You got this Mals," he assured her. "Just think I'm Charlie."
"Its impossible when you are so damn tall," the Egyptian protested, as George placed a hand around her waist and held the other tightly.
"It will be just a moment, Malaki," George didn't seem to lose his patience with her, which she was glad for, "then you can sit down and I can dance with Rawia."
The music started all of a sudden, taking Malak by surprise, which helped George take the lead rather forcefully, yet he seemed to know what he was doing.
"Good to know your true intentions, Forge," Malak smiled, looking up at her dancing partner and letting herself be guided around the dance floor.
"I never hid them, Mals," a wide smile spread on George's features, "plus you need to rest."
"You made me nap for almost 3 hours!!"
"And did you?"
"No," Malak shook her head slightly, "it was a madhouse at those dorms."
"You should have," George reprimanded, as other people started to come onto the dance floor, so that the champions were no longer the center of attention.
"I'll probably go to bed as soon as you switch Egyptians," Malak spoke, "which should be soon."
"That's what you think," George grinned quizzically, the same kind of smirk that spread to his eyes before a good prank was about to go down.
"I don't like that smug smile, Mr. Weasley..."
"Let's go find Rawia."
Thank you for reading, and sorry for the late update 🙈
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Here is my inspiration for Malak's dress, all by Lebanese designer Zuhair Murad 🤍
And this is Tara Emad (who I imagine Malak resembling) wearing one of those at the last Gouna Film Festival (the Oscars of Egyptian Cinema) ⬇️
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But anyways, the beauty of fanfiction and reading in general is that you can imagine it however you want... And I find that notion extremely powerful ✨
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As always, thanks for reading!
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