Chapter Text
“Okay, which tie do you like better?” Draco asks, holding up one in each hand.
I hold up the fabric swatch I got from my seamstress and compare the different shades of pink against the ties in his hands.
“Hm… probably this one. It’s closest.”
He nods, putting the other one back on the shelf. I step closer, resting my cheek on his arm. “Dray, would you please wear the bow tie instead?” I pout. “I like them so much better on you. The long ties make you look like your father.”
Draco chuckles, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “I think I could make that happen. For a price.”
“I already told you, I don’t need you to buy my shoes! I have plenty of money,” I groan.
He shakes his head. “It’s not about that. I’m your boyfriend now. It’s my job. Just let me.”
I sigh, staring up at him. “You know I don’t like feeling like I owe anyone.”
Draco smirks, tilting his head. “Then consider it an early anniversary gift.”
I roll my eyes. “Anniversary of what? Us finally getting our shit together?”
“Exactly,” he says smoothly, reaching out to flick a loose strand of my hair. “Now, be a good girlfriend and let me spoil you.”
I huff, but the warmth in my chest betrays me. He’s impossible when he gets like this—determined, smug, and completely unwilling to take no for an answer.
“Fine,” I relent. “But if you’re buying my shoes, I get to pick your pocket square.”
Draco raises a brow. “Deal. But don’t make it ridiculous.”
I flash him a grin and turn back to the display, scanning through the elegant silk options. The boutique around us is quiet, the rich scent of leather and expensive cologne lingering in the air. It’s late—far too late for two Hogwarts students to be wandering around Paris, but we had slipped away through the Floo in the Room of Requirement without a second thought.
It’s a school night, technically. But with the Cupids’ Ball coming up, I had convinced him that last-minute shopping in France was necessary. And, to my surprise, he hadn’t argued much.
“Here,” I say, pulling out a delicate pocket square with the faintest silver embroidery. “This one matches your cufflinks.”
Draco takes it from me, rubbing the fine fabric between his fingers before nodding approvingly. “Not bad, Lavigné. You might have taste after all.”
I swat at his arm, but he just laughs, grabbing my hand before I can walk away. “What else do you need? Dress? Accessories?”
I shake my head. “My gown’s already sorted, and I have jewelry. The only thing left is shoes—and apparently, those are your problem now.”
“That’s right,” Draco says, steering me toward the shoe section. “And I take my responsibilities very seriously.”
As we browse, his fingers stay lazily intertwined with mine, his usual arrogance softened into something warmer. The weight of our secret outings, our hidden alliance, and the blood pact tying us together is momentarily forgotten.
Draco scans the options in front of us. “What kind of jewelry are you wearing? Gold or silver?”
“Silver,” I reply quickly. “So you can wear the cuff links I bought you and we’ll still be coordinated.”
He nods, one side of his mouth turning up into a smirk. “Careful, if we’re coordinated too well the single people might start getting jealous.”
“Let them be jealous,” I chuckle. “Maybe I want to show off my new arm candy.”
Draco feigns offense, placing a hand over his chest. “Is that all I am to you?”
“You caught me,” I quip, running my fingers over a pair of diamond encrusted heels. “That’s all you Malfoys are good for. Looking pretty.”
He rolls his eyes, chuckling to himself. “Please. If anything, I’ll be showing you off properly for the first time. This is a big deal for me, you know.”
“Wow, don’t tell me we’re announcing the engagement already,” I tease.
Draco picks up a pair of shoes, looks at the price tag and scoffs, apparently deeming them too cheap for me. “Our appearing together will do all the announcing on its own, I’m sure.”
I laugh, watching him decide another pair of shoes isn’t worthy of his “pocket change,” as he calls it. “I don’t doubt you on that. The rumor mill has been running rampant since I transferred here.”
“And thank Merlin you did. I was getting tired of fending all the girls away at these things,” he says arrogantly, laughing when I swat at his arm again.
“You’re ridiculous.”
He kisses the top of my head, dropping my hand to study a pair of designer heels. “It’s part of my charm.”
I roll my eyes despite the smile on my face as he holds the heels out to me. “What do you think of these?”
“Very pretty,” I say quietly, almost in awe as the light catches the jewels from every which angle. I take them out of his hands and look at the tag. “How did you know my size?”
Draco smirks, tilting his head slightly. “Lavigné, please. I’ve spent enough time watching you stomp around Hogwarts to figure it out.”
I arch a brow. “So you’ve been studying my feet?”
He scoffs, crossing his arms. “Hardly. I just have a good eye for detail.”
“Mhm, sure,” I hum, slipping off my shoe to try one on. “Just admit it, Malfoy. You’ve been checking me out this whole time.”
Draco leans in, voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “And if I have?”
I freeze for half a second before brushing it off with a smirk of my own. “Then I’d say you have excellent taste.”
He chuckles, kneeling down to fasten the delicate straps around my ankle for me. “Obviously.”
I stand, testing the fit, and take a few steps forward. “Merlin, these feel like a dream.”
Draco studies me like an art collector evaluating a priceless piece. “You’re missing something.”
I look down at myself, confused. “What?”
He steps closer, eyes glinting with amusement. “The strut. If you’re going to wear those, you need to walk like you own the room.”
I scoff but can’t help the grin tugging at my lips. “Oh, you mean like you do?”
He gestures grandly. “Exactly. Now, let’s see it.”
Rolling my eyes, I straighten my posture and take a few slow, deliberate steps forward, adding a bit of dramatic flair.
Draco nods approvingly. “Not bad, but you need a little more confidence.”
“Oh, I’m oozing confidence,” I quip. “I just don’t feel the need to peacock around like some pureblood prince.”
He smirks. “You wound me, truly.”
I spin on my heel, leveling him with a playful glare. “Just buy the shoes before you start crying.”
Draco laughs, shaking his head as he waves over the shop assistant. “Fine, fine. But for the record—” He pauses as he hands over his payment. “—I’ll expect a proper entrance when we arrive.”
I narrow my eyes suspiciously. “Define ‘proper.’”
Draco grins. “Oh, you’ll see. Just don’t be surprised if half the room stops to stare.”
I huff, crossing my arms. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or concerned.”
He hands me the bag, winking. “Both.”
We exit the shop hand in hand, making our way back down the street towards the Bijou. He stops when he sees a sweets shop, dragging me inside to look at all the different chocolates on display.
“It’s incredible you’re as fit as you are considering how much sugar you consume.”
He waves me off, tasting a sample. “It’s the genes. Get it from mum.”
It’s always in the easy, lighthearted moments like this that I catch him calling Narcissa “mum” instead of “mother.” He never seems to notice the subconscious shift, but it always makes my ears perk up. It’s a telltale sign that he’s completely content.
“And here I thought you were working out for me,” I tease, pecking his cheek.
Draco smirks, chewing thoughtfully as he gestures toward the chocolates. “Oh, I am. But a Malfoy must maintain his standards—whether for physique or fine confectionery.”
I roll my eyes, picking up a piece of dark chocolate and letting it melt on my tongue. “Merlin, that’s good.”
Draco watches me with amusement. “See? Even you can appreciate the finer things in life.”
“I never said I didn’t,” I counter, reaching for another. “I just don’t make a whole personality out of it.”
He gasps dramatically. “Excuse you, appreciating quality isn’t a personality trait—it’s a lifestyle.”
I snort, nudging him with my elbow. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet,” he murmurs, brushing a stray curl from my face, “here you are, holding my hand, indulging my sweet tooth, and buying into my extravagant lifestyle.”
I glance down at our still-entwined fingers and squeeze lightly. “I suppose I’m just suffering through it.”
Draco leans in, voice warm with amusement. “Then let me make your suffering worthwhile.”
Before I can react, he plucks a chocolate truffle from a nearby display, holding it up to my lips. I hesitate for only a second before taking a bite, the rich flavor spreading across my tongue.
“Good?” he asks, watching me closely.
I swallow and nod. “Very.”
He grins, popping the rest into his mouth. “That’s what I thought.”
I shake my head, laughing as I pull him toward the counter. “Alright, Malfoy, pick your favorites, and I’ll pay.”
Draco freezes, looking scandalized. “Absolutely not.”
“Absolutely yes.”
“You must be joking.”
“Afraid not.” I smirk. “Consider it a return on investment for the shoes.”
He crosses his arms, pouting in a way that’s far too amusing for someone of his usual arrogance. “I don’t need you to buy me chocolates.”
I tilt my head. “You just spent 26,000 galleons on a pair of heels for me. I think I can handle some sweets.”
He huffs, clearly struggling with his pride. “Fine. But only because I deserve them.”
I hand over the payment, shaking my head. “You really do.”
“For being so incredibly good looking and studious?” he asks, preening.
I laugh, stealing one of his chocolates from the tin. “For putting up with me.”
“Ah, yes. That too.”
As we head the rest of the way to Le Bijou Caché, I can’t help but think about how easy this is with him. I think we’re evenly matched in most things—intelligence, skill, even sarcasm and humor. Maybe I have a leg up in potions and wandless magic, but he’s got me beat in most of our other subjects. But no matter what, we make each other exponentially better, no matter what anyone thinks.
Merlin, I cannot wait for the dance tomorrow.
~
Hannah, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Alice, Diana and I all decide to get ready together in the Hufflepuff common room—mostly because we, apparently, play the best music. We let the muggleborns handle that, because they bring in a much wider range of music than the wizarding world is supplied with.
The Hufflepuff common room is buzzing with excitement as everyone gathers together. The soft glow of the fireplace flickers, casting a warm, golden hue over the room. I sit down on the big, squishy armchair in front of the mirror, grinning at the familiar faces around me. Ginny and Luna are already rummaging through my things for makeup, while Hermione and Alice are sorting through a pile of jewelry that somehow keeps growing. Diana and Hannah are in the corner, making sure the speakers are all set up for us.
“Alright, what’s the playlist looking like?” I ask, stretching my arms. “I need something that’ll really get us in the mood.”
Alice, grinning from ear to ear, presses a button on the speaker. Instantly, a bouncy tune fills the air—something from a Muggle band with a catchy, upbeat rhythm.
“This one’s my favorite,” she says with a dreamy look. “It makes me feel like I’m in a film, spinning around in a meadow with the wind in my hair.”
“Perfect!” Diana chimes in, flicking through a few of her own clothes before settling on a dress that’s way too fancy for the occasion. “But I’ll still need to try on at least five different things before I can decide.”
Hannah laughs. “That’s the Diana we know.”
Meanwhile, Hermione is organizing everyone’s hair tools, muttering to herself about how much better her potion for curls would work if only she could figure out how to make it last longer.
“You know, if you want, I could try to do your hair,” I say, glancing at her. “Maybe braids? Or half up half down?”
“Really? You’re a life saver,” she sighs, handing me her potions and a hairbrush. “I’m terrible at this. Took me hours last year.”
I chuckle, leading her to a chair in front of the mirror and starting to work a relaxer potion through the curls. “I’ve got you, always. You poor thing. Stuck with those two boys all these years. You need a girl friend.”
She sighs, watching me work. “Don’t I know it. I love those two, but they just don’t get it sometimes.”
“Of course they don’t,” Ginny chimes. “They’re boys.”
Luna floats over, swaying to the music. “I’m sure they have the best of intentions, though.”
I rest my chin on the top of Mione’s head, draping my arms over her shoulders. “Yes, they’re very sweet. And they’re both incredibly protective of you, ‘Mi. But no matter what, you’ve got this girl in your corner now,” I say with a wink.
She smiles back at me in the mirror, hugging my arms. “I’m so glad you joined our group. And thank you for including me in yours.” She gestures to my roommates, who all smile back at her.
“You’re always welcome here. Everybody loves you,” I reply with a blinding smile before turning back to her hair, twisting and pinning up bits and pieces until I form an updo reminiscent of a rose. “What do you think?”
She stands up, holding another mirror behind her head to see better. “It’s lovely!”
Ginny struts over, a silver and pearl hairpiece in hand. “Hear me out.”
“I like the way you think,” I quip, delicately placing it in Hermione’s hair, adding the perfect accent to her dress.
“I love it here,” Hermione sighs dreamily. “Y/n, I think I’m going to hang out with you and Hannah more often.”
Hannah claps her hands, looking up from her makeup. “Yes! We always need more girls to gossip with,” she giggles.
Ginny flops onto the couch beside Luna, stretching out like a cat. “And speaking of gossip,” she says with a mischievous glint in her eyes, “are we going to talk about the fact that Y/n has been spending a lot of time with a certain someone lately?”
My hands pause in Hermione’s hair for half a second before I recover. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say smoothly, securing another pin.
“Oh, please,” Diana drawls, lounging across one of the armchairs. “You and Malfoy have been attached at the hip”
I scoff, but my face betrays me with the slightest warmth creeping up my neck. “We have not! We just—”
“Just what?” Hannah grins. “Blatantly flirt in front of everyone? Share long, brooding stares across the Great Hall? Exchange so much snarky banter it feels like we’re watching a romance novel unfold in real time?”
Alice wiggles her eyebrows. “Is there something you need to tell us, Y/n? He is your date tonight, after all.”
I roll my eyes, focusing entirely too hard on adjusting Hermione’s hairpiece. “You lot are going to be the death of me.”
“That’s not a no,” Luna remarks, tilting her head.
Ginny gasps, sitting up suddenly. “You two are totally official now, aren’t you?”
I hesitate for a moment too long, completely revealing my hand. All the girls start squealing and jumping about, and they all come over to where I’m standing to surround me.
“I knew it!” Hermione cheers, standing up to face me. “You two have been acting different since that day he hung back in the Room of Requirement!”
“Is that when it happened?” Alice questions me, hands over her mouth.
Hannah throws her hands up in the air. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”
“Everyone calm down,” I say helplessly, backing up a bit. “It’s only been a few days. We were going to just walk into the ball together and let everyone piece it together.”
Ginny lets out a dramatic gasp. “So you are official!”
I groan, covering my face with my hands as they all erupt into another fit of squeals. “I’m never going to live this down.”
Hermione crosses her arms, giving me a knowing look. “So that’s why you’ve been so much less stressed lately.”
Alice smirks. “And here I thought it was a slow burn—turns out, it’s already caught fire.”
Luna sighs dreamily. “This is so much better than a romance novel.”
“Okay, okay,” I laugh, pushing them off me. “Enough about me. We still need to finish getting ready, remember?”
But Ginny, ever the determined one, is already eyeing my dress with renewed interest. “Oh, absolutely not. We are making sure you look stunning—he needs to suffer for how long he took to make a move.”
Hannah grabs my wrist and practically shoves me toward the changing screen in the corner. “Get in there and put the dress on.”
“You’re all ridiculous,” I mutter, but I can’t fight the smile tugging at my lips as I take the gown and step behind the screen.
The fabric is soft and luxurious, a delicate shade of pink that complements my skin perfectly. It’s fitted at the waist, flowing down into a skirt that sways with every movement. The bodice is intricately embroidered with tiny, shimmering silver threads, catching the firelight just right. It’s effortlessly elegant, exactly what I need.
When I step out, there’s a brief moment of silence—then chaos.
“Oh, you look lovely,” Luna sighs, clasping her hands together.
Diana lets out a low whistle. “Malfoy’s going to die.”
Alice fans herself dramatically. “He’ll be groveling at your feet by the end of the night.”
I shake my head, laughing, but before I can say anything, Hannah’s already holding up another item—the silver heels.
The ones he bought me.
My breath catches slightly, my fingers ghosting over the delicate straps. I hadn’t told them about these. Hadn’t even thought about what it meant that he’d bought them for me.
Ginny narrows her eyes. “Wait a minute. Where did those come from?”
I hesitate, which is obviously the wrong move, because now they’re all way too interested.
Hermione gasps first, because of course she figures it out immediately. “Oh my Merlin, he bought them for you, didn’t he?”
The way I freeze must be answer enough because suddenly they’re all talking over each other again.
“Are they custom?”
“Did he give them to you in a grand romantic gesture?”
“Y/n, be honest—did you swoon?”
I groan. “Would everyone please relax?”
“No!” they all shout in unison.
I sigh, but I can’t help the small smile tugging at my lips as I slip the heels on. They fit perfectly, as if he had them made just for me. “We went shopping last night so we could find him a matching tie, and he insisted on getting them for me. He wouldn’t even consider them unless they were at least 20,000 galleons. Which is just like him, really.” As I stand, Ginny hands me a silver necklace to match, and Hermione dabs a bit of perfume on my wrist.
“I’m so jealous,” Hannah whines. “I want a rich boyfriend!”
“Ugh, me too,” Alice agrees, handing me a mirror.
Luna twirls a loose curl around her finger, admiring the final look. “You look like a fairytale,” she says dreamily.
Diana grins. “Or a girl about to utterly destroy a certain Malfoy’s composure.”
I roll my eyes, but deep down, I can’t help but wonder—when Draco sees me tonight, will they be right?
~
Cherry blossom petals float down from the ceiling, enchanted with something to make them sparkle. A gentle glow from hundreds of candles lazily floating in the air casts itself over the steps and entrance to the ballroom, which is lined with an arch made completely of the same enchanted cherry blossoms. It looks truly magical, and the romance in the air is palpable.
All of our dates wait at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in their best attire. Harry is taking Ginny, of course, and Neville is with Hannah. Ron finally plucked up the courage to ask Hermione to the dance, and Draco helped me set up dates for the twins—because Blaise and Theo have apparently scared off the entire Slytherin girl population with their chaos, which doesn’t bother them in the slightest. Luna, naturally, is marching to the beat of her own drum and going alone so she can hang out with all of her friends equally.
At the bottom of the staircase, the boys are huddled together, murmuring amongst themselves, adjusting their ties, and throwing occasional glances toward the entrance, where more students are filtering into the ballroom. Harry nudges Ron, who seems to be nervously straightening his dress robes for the tenth time. Blaise and Theo, ever the troublemakers, are clearly up to something, whispering conspiratorially while Neville shifts on his feet, looking adorably anxious.
Draco stands slightly apart from the group, hands in his pockets, wearing a tailored black suit with silver detailing that gleams subtly under the candlelight. His hair is neatly styled, a few strands falling just out of place in a way that makes him look effortlessly charming. And of course, his pink bow tie accents his neck wonderfully. He isn’t paying much attention to the conversation, instead occasionally glancing at the staircase with something unreadable in his expression.
Then, the music shifts—something soft and enchanting—and all at once, us girls begin descending the staircase.
The change in the boys is immediate.
Harry straightens up the second he spots Ginny, his face lighting up as she grins at him. Neville’s nervous fidgeting ceases entirely when he sees Hannah, his mouth parting slightly in awe. Ron freezes as Hermione steps down in her gown, looking radiant, and he mutters something under his breath—likely forgetting how to form words altogether. Blaise and Theo, despite their usual chaos, actually pause their scheming as they take in their dates, exchanging impressed looks.
And then there’s Draco.
The second his gaze lands on me, the entire world seems to stop.
His usual composed, arrogant demeanor shatters in an instant. His lips part slightly, his sharp grey eyes widening as he takes me in—head to toe, utterly speechless. His grip tightens around the cuffs of his sleeves as if physically restraining himself from reacting too strongly, but it’s so obvious.
I slow my steps just a fraction as I meet his gaze, heat creeping up my neck at the way he’s looking at me—like he can’t quite believe I’m real.
Blaise, ever the observant one, is the first to notice. He smirks, elbowing Theo. “Merlin’s beard, would you look at Malfoy?”
Theo snickers. “Poor guy. Never stood a chance.”
Draco doesn’t even react to their teasing, too preoccupied watching me approach.
When I finally reach him, I tilt my head, letting a slow, teasing smile tug at my lips. “Cat got your tongue, Malfoy?”
His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, eyes still roaming over my dress, my hair, the silver heels he bought me. His voice, when he finally finds it, is quieter than I expected. Almost reverent.
“You look…” He trails off, blinking like he’s still processing it. “Bloody hell.”
I bite back a laugh, reaching up to adjust the collar of his suit with a playful glint in my eyes. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
He exhales a short, disbelieving laugh, finally snapping himself out of it—though the way he’s still looking at me suggests he’s far from recovered. “It was meant to be one.”
I just smirk, giving him a little twirl so the skirt of my dress flows around me. “What do you think?”
Draco grins, running a hand over his mouth. “You’re just… absolutely stunning. No other way to describe it, really. But,” he pauses, pulling out a glittering pink corsage, “I think I need to see it all together, don’t you?”
I can’t help but gasp, studying the roses as he slips it onto my wrist. “Are these…?”
He nods. “From mum’s garden. She was quite pleased to hear I’d be taking you.”
“Oh, Dray…” I start, not really knowing what to say. “Thank you.”
He smiles brightly, almost shy in the way he tilts his head down ever so slightly. “Only the best for you, darling.”
I blush furiously at the casual use of the pet name, trying not to show how much it really dawns on me that we’re dating. Officially.
I thought it would never happen.
Draco seems to sense that I can no longer form words, so he simply smirks and offers his arm for me to take. “Shall we?”
I giggle—actually giggle, what have I become—and take his arm. “Try to keep up.”
As we step forward together, arm in arm, the moment feels almost surreal. The soft glow of the candles above casts a golden shimmer over the ballroom, and the floating cherry blossoms create a dreamlike effect, but none of it compares to the sudden shift in energy as we walk through the entrance.
The moment we cross the threshold, the whispers begin.
It starts as a murmur, a few turned heads, a couple of students nudging each other. But within seconds, the entire ballroom seems to catch on, and the reaction is instant.
I can feel dozens of eyes on us, the weight of hushed voices swirling around like the enchanted petals falling from the ceiling. Girls from all houses stare, some with wide eyes, some with barely concealed shock. A group of Slytherin girls in the corner are gaping, clearly scandalized. Even some of the professors glance over, eyebrows raised ever so slightly.
Draco, of course, doesn’t acknowledge any of it. He walks with his usual effortless confidence, leading me deeper into the ballroom like we belong there—like we’ve done this a hundred times before. But I don’t miss the way he shifts to take my hand in his, lacing our fingers together in an easy gesture.
Behind us, I can overhear the conversations between my friends and their dates.
“Bloody hell,” Ron whispers. “I can’t believe they actually made it official.”
Hermione, standing beside him, simply chuckles. “Took them long enough.”
With Diana and Alice, Blaise and Theo share a knowing look before Theo leans back dramatically, clutching his chest. “Well, I’ll be damned. Our boy did it.”
Blaise chuckles, raising his glass in our direction. “And judging by that look on his face, he’s gone.”
I don’t dare look at Draco’s expression, knowing full well that Blaise is right. Instead, I let myself lean into his side just a little as we slow our steps, letting the moment stretch just long enough for everyone to get the message.
We’re here. Together.
Draco finally turns his head slightly, lowering his voice just enough for me to hear. “I think we might have caused a scene.”
I bite my lip to hide my grin. “Oh? I hadn’t noticed.”
His gaze flickers to mine, and for a brief second, the rest of the room fades away. There’s something unspoken in his eyes, something softer than his usual smirk. He exhales a short, amused breath before murmuring, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
I glance around, watching as people continue to whisper, as friends elbow each other in excitement, as a few girls throw looks of absolute devastation. Then, I look back at Draco, letting my lips curl into a slow, knowing smile.
“Just a little.”
He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. But the way his hand lingers over mine tells me he’s enjoying this just as much as I am.
And of course, people start to notice the little pièce dé résistance—the simple silver bands we both have on our ring fingers.
Hey, it’s not a crime to play into the rumors a little, is it?
Draco pulls me into a waltz, guiding me around the dance floor effortlessly. He looks at me like I’m the only person in the room, and it fills my stomach with butterflies.
Suddenly, I hear an all too familiar laugh—one that sounds like nails on a chalkboard.
I look to my right and I see them: Tara Windlen and Spectra Cinderlow. The two girls who were much too comfortable talking about my apparent breakup with Draco and laughing about it.
“What’s wrong?” Draco asks quietly, studying my features.
I shake my head, a wicked smile forming on my face. “I think it’s time for the plan.”
He smirks, following my gaze to the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor duo. “This should be fun.”
Draco catches sight of the two girls, their wide eyes flicking between our hands and our faces, like they can’t believe what they’re seeing. I can practically hear their brains short-circuiting. He casually leads us close enough for them to hear, but not enough for it to be obvious.
“Darling,” Draco drawls, tilting his head just enough for his hair to fall elegantly into his eyes. His thumb ghosts over the band on my finger in an almost absentminded gesture. “Did you remember to send the owl to my mother about the engagement dinner? She’ll want every detail planned.”
I hum in thought, tapping my chin with my free hand. “Oh, you know how she is. She wants a full menu, guest list, floral arrangements—oh, and she specifically requested I wear the blue dress this time. Apparently, it brings out my eyes.” I turn to him, all faux innocence. “Do you think it brings out my eyes, chéri?”
Draco exhales sharply, like I’ve just made his life so much harder. “Oh, now you’re just fishing for compliments.”
The girls exchange scandalized whispers, one of them gripping the other’s arm as if to steady herself.
I lean in conspiratorially. “Don’t worry, I already know you’re obsessed with me.”
His lips quirk up at the corner. “Tragic, isn’t it?”
I sigh, shaking my head in mock sympathy. “So tragic.”
We turn to the girls in perfect sync, wearing eerily similar smirks.
“Oh, do excuse us,” I say sweetly, starting to brush past them.
They say nothing. They simply blink at us, speechless for once in their lives.
Draco squeezes my hand one last time before letting go, as if we hadn’t just shattered their entire reality. “Come along, my fiancée. We have so much planning to do.”
I laugh as I follow him, throwing a final glance over my shoulder to see them absolutely losing their minds.
“Wow, you could have been an actor,” I tease, following him to the other side of the room.
He chuckles, finding an empty spot and pulling me back in for a dance. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”
I laugh outright, feeling light as a feather. “Yes, that you are, Dray.”
Draco’s eyes flicker down to look at my lips as I laugh, a smile of his own spreading across his face. “Let me guess. Those were the two you were telling me about a few days ago?”
“Yep,” I reply shortly, shooting him a slightly apologetic glance. “Can’t stand those two now, and I’ve never even properly spoken to them.”
“I don’t know how anyone could stand that voice,” he agrees, mimicking a shiver. “It’s absolutely grating.”
I nod, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Have I told you recently how much I appreciate you?”
“Maybe,” he says softly, drawing out the word. “But I can’t quite remember. It’s probably best if you tell me again.”
I roll my eyes, lightly hitting his arm. “Now who’s fishing for compliments?”
Draco smirks, about to fire back a quip, when suddenly—
Thunk.
A small, shimmering arrow hits him square in the shoulder before vanishing into a burst of golden mist.
I barely have time to process what just happened before Draco goes utterly still. His breath hitches. His pupils blow wide, swallowing the silver of his irises until they shimmer with an unnatural shade of violet.
And then—
“Oh.”
His voice is different. Softer. Almost awed.
I blink up at him, confused. “Draco?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he just stares at me. No—adores me. His expression shifts from playful amusement to something intense, almost reverent, like I’ve personally crafted the stars in the sky just for him.
I barely have time to react before he grabs my hands, clutching them in his own like a lifeline.
“Merlin, you’re so pretty,” he breathes. His fingers tighten ever so slightly. “How did I never notice how—ethereal—you are?”
I choke on air. “I—what?”
“I mean, I knew you were beautiful, obviously, but this?” He shakes his head as if he can’t comprehend it. His free hand reaches up, delicately tucking a strand of hair behind my ear with the kind of gentleness usually reserved for handling priceless artifacts. His eyes are practically glowing. “You’re exquisite.”
I take a step back, alarm bells ringing in my head. “Okay, what—what’s going on with you?”
Draco follows my movement instantly, stepping closer as if he can’t bear to have distance between us. His hands drop to my waist, holding me in place. “What do you mean?” His brows knit together in concern. “Are you cold? Do you need my jacket? I can get you my jacket.”
I gape at him. “Draco, I don’t—”
But he’s already shrugging off his blazer, moving with frantic speed. “Here, take it. Actually, no, let me just—” He starts fussing over me, draping the jacket over my shoulders and pulling it tight.
Across the room, I catch a glimpse of a Slytherin girl—one I don’t really recognize—watching us with wide, horrified eyes.
And suddenly, it all clicks.
“Oh my Merlin,” I whisper. “You were hit with something.”
Draco is too busy gazing at me like I’m the most precious thing in the world. “You have such lovely eyelashes.”
“Draco.”
He startles at my tone, standing up straighter. “Yes, darling?”
I groan, dragging a hand down my face. “This is some kind of love spell—you got hit by a magical arrow or something—”
Draco gasps dramatically, grabbing my hand. “You think fate sent me an arrow just so I could finally realize the depth of my love for you?” His eyes shine with conviction. “That makes so much sense.”
I stare at him, horrified. “Mione. We definitely need Hermione.”
A few feet away, the two girls we’d just been teasing stand frozen, watching this unfold like it’s the single greatest piece of drama they’ve ever witnessed.
And Draco—Draco Malfoy—just buries his face into my neck, inhaling like I’m his favorite scent in the world.
“I could stay like this forever,” he murmurs dreamily.
I think I might actually die.
He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me as close to him as he can. I scan the room frantically before catching Hermione’s eye, waving her over.
She quirks a brow but hands her drink to Ron and makes her way across the room to us. As she’s walking, Draco lifts his head and stares at me like he’s drinking me in.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks feverishly, almost desperately. “Is that okay?”
“I don’t think this is a good time—” I start, but the sad puppy look on his face makes me cut myself off.
Oh, hell. We’ve kissed dozens of times. What’s the harm?
I grab the sides of his face, looking up at him with a small (albeit entertained) smile. “I suppose we can—”
But I can’t even finish my sentence before he captures my lips in a hungry kiss, earning a slightly startled, “Oh!” from Hermione, who apparently just reached my side.
I push Draco away gently, turning to face her. “Sorry, sorry. Look, we’ve got a code purple here,” I whisper to her, ignoring the way Draco is lifting locks of my hair to study and appreciate.
“A love potion?”
“Some kind of love arrow,” I correct her, letting Draco take my hand and kiss the back of it, all the way up to my wrist. “I think someone misfired a spell and now… well.”
She turns to look at Draco, who is now removing his coat from my shoulders, murmuring something about me being too warm.
“O…kay,” she drawls, seeming slightly caught off guard. “Let me try this. Finite incantatem.”
She waves her wand at him and a burst of light hits him, but no change.
I bite my lip. “Didn’t work. What do we do?”
Hermione crosses her arms, brow furrowed. “Unfortunately, I think you need a professors help.”
“No,” I groan. “No way! This is going to be so awkward.”
She chuckles, but tries to mask it with a cough. “Yes, well… I don’t know what he’s been hit with so I can’t do a counter curse. He may even need an antidote.”
I feel Draco lay his head back down on my shoulder, and I gently play with his hair while I take my free hand and run it over my face. “Great. Guess professor Snape is going to enjoy using this one against us for the rest of our time here.”
Hermione offers me a look that screams better him than McGonagall, and I sigh, defeated. “Alright, let’s just get this over with.”
Draco lifts his head at my tone, immediately concerned. “Darling, you sound upset. Who do I need to hex?”
Hermione snorts. “Merlin, he’s really gone.”
I wave her off, trying to pry Draco’s arms from around me. “Draco, we need to go see Professor Snape.”
He gasps, looking genuinely affronted. “You want to spend time with him when you could be spending time with me?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “It’s not optional. You got hit with something, and we need to get it fixed.”
Draco huffs, crossing his arms. “I don’t need fixing. I feel perfect.” He gazes at me dreamily. “Like I’ve reached enlightenment just by being in your presence.”
Hermione actually laughs at that one. I shoot her a glare.
“C’mon, Dray,” I coax, lacing my fingers through his and tugging him toward the door. “If you love me, you’ll listen to me.”
His whole expression softens. “Oh, of course. Anything for you, my love.”
Hermione snickers behind me as Draco and I finally make our way toward Snape’s office, Draco staying glued to my side the entire time, occasionally pressing kisses to my temple or murmuring poetic nonsense about my aura.
By the time we reach Snape’s door, I already have a headache.
I knock, and within moments, the door swings open, revealing a very displeased-looking Snape. His dark eyes sweep over us, and for a moment, he just stares.
Draco, still holding my hand, grins brightly. “Professor! Marvelous evening, isn’t it? Did you know your robes really bring out the darkness of your soul?”
I slap a hand over my face.
Snape just blinks. “What.”
I clear my throat. “Uh. We have a bit of a…situation.” I gesture to Draco, who is now playing with my fingers like they’re the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.
Snape’s eyes narrow. “Malfoy is… smiling.” He says this as if it’s the most disturbing thing he’s ever witnessed.
“Yes, sir,” I sigh. “Someone shot him with some kind of magical love arrow, and now he’s—”
“Utterly and irrevocably devoted to my beloved,” Draco supplies helpfully.
Snape looks like he would rather be at a death eater meeting.
I give him a pleading look. “Can you fix him?”
Snape pinches the bridge of his nose, much like I had earlier. “This level of idiocy is intolerable.” He turns on his heel and stalks toward his potions cabinet, muttering to himself. “A love arrow. The things I must endure.”
Draco, entirely oblivious, looks at me with absolute sincerity. “I rather like this, you know. Maybe we don’t need a cure.”
Snape spins back around with a glare. “I assure you, Mr. Malfoy, you do.”
Draco pouts. Actually pouts.
After a moment, Snape lets out a long, suffering sigh. “I don’t have a supply for this. The antidote for this particular enchantment takes a week to brew.”
My stomach drops. “A week?”
Snape crosses his arms. “Unless you’d prefer to let him remain in this state indefinitely.”
I groan. “No! No, that’s—fine.”
Draco immediately brightens. “Oh, so I get to love you this much for a whole week?” He beams. “This is the best day of my life.”
Snape looks genuinely ill. Draco is blissfully happy.
And I just got put on Malfoy baby sitting duty until this potion is done.
How the bloody hell at I going to make this work?