Amisty stared at the letter in her hands, perched on the edge of her seat, unable to process what she was reading.
Draco's familiar green penmanship winked up at her, the last tail of his signature smudged.
The little imperfection was the only thing grounding her, reminding her that this was real.
Dear Amisty,
I know this is short notice but I just spent a good three weeks trying to convince my parents to let me do this. There's a Ministry function coming up this Saturday and I was wondering if you'd like to go with me? You certainly don't have to, but if you don't I might have to go with Pansy and I know how much you hate the mere idea of that. It's a formal event, yes, but my mother is willing to lend one of her dresses to you. She's reading over my shoulder at the moment, actually, and wants me to tell you that she really did like the dress you wore to the Yule Ball if you feel uncomfortable wearing one of hers. Owl me back with an answer as soon as you can.
I hope to see you soon, Draco
Of course she had replied with a yes. The second Echo flew up and out of reach, though, she was starting to regret her decision.
Her owl definitely knew that was going to happen and was well out of the way before she could even try to take back the letter.
And now she was sitting in her house, freshly cleaned, waiting for Draco to arrive with his mother.
Lucius Malfoy had to be at the function early, a relief to Amisty, knowing she wouldn't have to face his cold expression he always gave her whenever she was within a ten-foot radius of his son. Mrs. Malfoy was much nicer, though a bit harsh with her words occasionally.
She always apologized, which was nice.
Of course, Amisty had politely declined the offer to wear one of Mrs. Malfoy's dresses, preferring the one she owned and the security it gave her.
The golden crown Hermione had given her the night of the Yule Ball was left in the box, she wasn't quite sure how everyone there would react to her wearing it. Especially given the lack of organization she had over her appearance, lost without Hermione's assistance.
There was a soft knock at her door. She took a deep breath, bracing herself as she forced her feet toward the door and curling her fingers around the brass knob. With a turn of her wrist, it was open, and she was to face -- er -- more like face to chest with Draco.
"Hello, Amisty," Mrs. Malfoy greeted her warmly, her icy blue eyes scanning down her appearance. "You look very nice."
"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy," She did what she hoped was a curtsy. "You look beautiful as always."
In fact, she felt as if she were a speck of dirty ruining the beauty of this mother-son companionship.
They were both radiating power, elegant and poised and graceful, both stunning in black, the color stark against their pale skin. And then there was her.
Freckled and tan and in a colorful dress that sparkled. She felt childish, nothing at all like how the partner of Draco should look.
She should've denied his invitation, she should've let him go with Pansy. At least she would know what she was doing --
Her thoughts were interrupted as Draco gently pulled her to his side.
Mrs. Malfoy had kept talking, unaware of her overwhelming thoughts, and apparently they were getting ready to Apparate to the Ministry.
Mrs. Malfoy held onto their arms, and Draco took it upon himself to clasp Amisty's fingers in his own. Just as they were about to leave, he met her gaze and squeezed her hand.
There was the same uncomfortable whooshing feeling of Side-Along Apparition, and Amisty stumbled away the second they reached their destination, wanting to regain her composure before they saw her again.
"Follow me, you two," Mrs. Malfoy called, and she led the way toward the entrance of the Ministry. Amisty was so nervous she hadn't even noticed Draco was still holding her hand.
They entered, and she was almost entirely overwhelmed. There was too much, too much there. Music, conversations, dancing. It was mellow, yes, but there was so much of it.
She was considering turning on her heel and walking out. Until Draco tugged her inside, keeping her close, and she was in the middle of it all. It didn't take very long for Mrs. Malfoy to leave them, wandering off to go join in conversation between a group of smiling witches.
Amisty couldn't but notice the smiles didn't reach their eyes.
"Are you okay?" Draco whispered in her ear, squeezing her fingers in a reassuring way.
"It's..." Her voice trailed off, eyes scanning the room nervously, "it's just... a lot to take in."
"Here," He wound his arm around her waist gently, guiding her off toward a table of girls around their age.
There were three of them in total, eyes lighting up in recognition at the sight of Draco.
He pulled out a seat for her and she sat down, wincing at the fake sounding, high pitched laughter coming from across the room, and he claimed the seat next to her and clasping their fingers underneath the tablecloth.
"Hello, Draco!" One of the girls beamed, her blonde hair curled at the bottom and blue eyes sparkling.
Pearl earrings peeked out from behind her hair, and her crimson nails, the same color as her dress, tapped the edge of the table.
It was Eleanor Wind, Amisty shared dorms with her. They hadn't talked much, as Eleanor spent most of her time with Parvati and Lavender. That, and she harbored a rather large hatred against Harry, Hermione, and all of the Weasleys.
Not exactly someone Amisty would click with.
"Who's your friend."
Amisty couldn't help but notice her eyes had hardened slightly at the word 'friend.' She bit back a sharp retort, knowing full well Eleanor knew who she was.
If Draco felt the tension he didn't let it show, "This is Amisty River, Eleanor, she's in your House."
"Ah, sorry," She smiled at him, not even sparing her another glance. "I must have missed seeing her around."
"I'm right here," Amisty piped up, her eyes narrowed and her voice a bit harsher than she intended. "I'd appreciate if you wouldn't talk like I wasn't."
Eleanor looked as if she had been slapped and sat back in her chair heavily, blue eyes flashing.
The corner of Draco's lip twitched and he squeezed her hand, but other than that his expression remained impassive.
One of the other girls, her shiny brown hair tied up in an elegant braid, started laughing quietly.
She was very pretty, too, a smattering of freckles on her nose and her light blue eyes sparkling. Her dress was a pale shade of green, vines and flowers accenting the bottom. A silver hippogriff hung from around her neck, rabbit earrings dangling from her ears.
It reminded Amisty very much of Luna, which helped with her nerves a bit.
"Hi, I'm Evelyn Daye," The brunette smiled shyly, extending a hand over the table. "Please call me Evie, though."
Relieved that she didn't have to continue a conversation doomed to turn south, she smiled back, "Nice to meet you, Evie."
Evie nudged the black haired girl sitting next to her with her elbow gently, and she looked up.
"Ophelia Jones," She smiled, her grey eyes boring into Amisty's own. "I don't think I've seen you around at Hogwarts?"
Ophelia was wearing yet another beautiful dress, the navy blue fabric draped over her shoulders delicately, bringing out the blue in her eyes.
Amisty shrugged in what she hoped was a nonchalant way, "I'm usually in my common room or the library."
She felt more than saw Draco's smirk. The number of times he'd found her wandering around the castle was a few times too many.
"I don't usually like crowds so when I find the time I'll usually wander around the castle alone," She added, stepping on his foot. His smirk grew.
"My hearing's pretty sensitive so I can usually tell when to turn the corner and get out of the way."
As if to enhance the fact, she nearly shot out of her seat when one of the Ministry officials walked over to the mic and it malfunctioned, a loud, screeching wail coming out of the surrounding speakers.
Draco steadied her, pressing a chaste kiss to her temple as those surrounding them were distracted by the noise.
"Sorry, sorry," The Ministry wizard smiled sheepishly. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for the first dance."
Amisty nearly groaned aloud. She thought she'd never have to dance again after the Yule Ball, and yet there they were.
Eleanor had quite a different reaction, her eyes lighting up as she practically leaped out of her seat, grabbing Draco's arm and in the process dragging his hand out of Amisty's.
She tried to ignore how that overwhelming feeling came back in full force at the loss of contact.
"Let's dance!" Eleanor beamed, already pulling him toward the dancefloor.
He threw a glance over his shoulder at where Amisty was sitting, already fidgeting nervously.
She met his gaze, smiling faintly to tell him she was okay with it. He didn't seem to believe her, but by then Eleanor was tugging so hard it was a wonder he hadn't fallen. It didn't take long for them to start dancing, achingly close to their table.
Amisty suddenly felt very cold.
"Sorry about her," Evie's soft voice captured her attention, her eyes dark with sympathy.
"Huh?" Amisty tore her gaze away, pushing the thought of how tall Eleanor was and how small she felt in comparison.
Without even realizing she tugged on a particularly messy strand of hair -- highly aware of how unruly it was -- really wishing she had just stayed home.
What had she been thinking? She wasn't like these people, she wasn't poised and elegant. She had lived on the streets for half of her life, for Merlin's sake!
"It doesn't take much to see how much you fancy him," Ophelia piped up, bringing her back to reality, looking as if she were fighting down a smile as Amisty flushed. "But he definitely fancies you, too. Eleanor's just jealous."
Amisty was about to open her mouth to reply, her face burning, when a brown haired boy came up to the table, closely tailed by another who looked just like him. Twins.
"Hey, Evie," The first smiled hesitantly, his brown eyes warm. "Could I have this dance?"
Evie beamed, her cheeks pink, "Sure!"
"Ophelia?" The other asked, holding out his hand.
"I suppose I have to," She replied sarcastically, but the smile on her face rid her words of any venom.
"We'll see you later, Amisty!" Evie called just before they disappeared into the crowd.
Amisty raised her hand in goodbye, sinking lower into her chair and hugging her arms to her chest. She looked around at the mostly empty tables, her head tilted to the side in quiet surprise at the sight of another boy sitting off to the side, alone.
His blond hair was tied up in a ponytail, greyish-blue eyes cast to his black dress shoes.
Throwing another glance over to where Draco and Eleanor were dancing, she took a deep breath and headed over to where he was sitting.
"Hi," She took the seat next to him, careful to keep her distance. "I'm Amisty River."
He looked up at her, the surprise clear on his face. There was a scar under his left eye, and Amisty fought to keep from staring, knowing it was rude.
She'd heard the rants from Harry before, scars weren't a thing to gawk over.
"Frederick Wolfe," He replied quietly, tentatively holding out a hand.
"Not much of a dancer?" She asked with a smile, shaking his hand.
Eleanor let out a loud bout of laughter then, and once again Amisty wished she had said no to the invitation.
"No, not really," He sighed, looking away. "Not one of my strong suits, I trip over my own feet without having to keep a rhythm."
She laughed, relieved to see him crack a small one of his own, "I know the feeling. I only learned during my fourth year at Hogwarts and I was rubbish at it."
"I've been taking dance lessons by the time I've learned to walk and I still can't do it properly," He was full on smiling now. "Worst dancer in England, right here."
"What did you do before Hogwarts, then?" Amisty asked casually.
"Worked with my family back home," He replied, voice slightly stiff. "I never really got to do much."
"But dance lessons!" She protested, trying to lighten the heavy mood.
It worked. He laughed again, "Well those, of course. But every Ministry kid has to have those if they don't want to embarrass their parents. Or themselves."
"Well," She didn't know what compelled her to do it, but she was doing it and it was out of her mouth and it was too late to take it back now, "why don't we kill two birds with one stone and mortify everyone?"
He blinked, looking flustered, "Huh?"
"I'm asking you if you want to dance," She tried and failed to fight down her smile.
"I assumed so," He rolled his eyes, still looking at her as if she had suggested they jump off a cliff. "You really want to risk that?"
"Trust me. I've danced with the worst dancer in my year and I'm still alive, I'm willing to risk it," She grinned.
"Alright then," He got to his feet, still shocked. "But don't say I didn't warn you."
So they danced.
It was friendly and a bit awkward, but it was fun. They tripped a lot, laughing and smiling, almost knocking into other couples quite a few times.
They had just about mastered turning when Amisty felt his hand slip from hers and suddenly she was face to face with Draco. One of his eyebrows was raised as he placed his hand on her waist.
"You managed to get Frederick out dancing," He stated simply, falling into step naturally.
"Yeah," She nodded, looking up at him curiously. "Is that a bad thing?"
"He hasn't danced at a function in years, petite loup, that's a pretty impressive feat," He was smiling, leaning down closer so his hair brushed against her forehead.
She grinned in a sort of drunken way, her eyes sparkling, "And you just let the self-proclaimed 'Worst Dancer in England,' switch off to...?"
"Eleanor," He smirked wickedly, eyes narrowed. "She was starting to get a little too nosy about why I brought you."
She looked over her shoulder, meeting Frederick's gaze. He looked mortified, being steered around by a very peeved looking Eleanor.
A very peeved looking Eleanor who still managed to look graceful and pretty as she danced with him, a smile on her face even though her eyes were blazing.
Once again, she felt very small in comparison, not to mention out of place. Amisty's giggle died on her lips, and she cast her gaze down, biting her lip and almost missing the next step.
"Hey, listen," He murmured softly, pausing in their dancing, running the pad of his thumb over her cheek to capture her attention. "You look every bit as beautiful as every other girl here, maybe even more so."
She wasn't very convinced, and her eyes slid to the side again, not wanting to lock eyes.
He lifted her left hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the band of gold around her index finger, a warm buzz spreading from where she knew his initials would appear, "I won't force you to believe me, but I want you to know that I'm not lying when I say that you're the only girl I have my eyes on. I wouldn't want to be here with anyone else other than you, okay? That's why I asked you."
That certainly helped, and she blushed, hiding her face in his chest. He chuckled, the vibrations rumbling against her forehead, and he ran a hand through the curly mess on her head lovingly.
"I hate you..." She muttered, though there was no bite to her words.
"I hate you, too," He laughed, pressing a kiss to her hair. "So much."
FIRST THINGS FIRST! THIS IS NOT CANON, THIS IS IN NO WAY CANON, DOES NOT HAVE A CONTINUATION, AND ENDS HERE. Caps over. Since Magic wasn't caught up on Wattpad just yet, I didn't have the option to ask for original OC's over here, but yes, that's who these characters were. They belong to my lovely readers over on Quotev, where this was originally posted. Thanks for reading, I quite like this chapter. Very cute. By the way, we're caught up now, and that means we'll have a regular updating schedule. Which, starting sometime in January, is every other day. See you then!