𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 [𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

DRACO was back in his manor.

He recognized the tall white walls decorated with pillars and portraits, most of whom were asleep as he passed through the corridor. He recognized the tall drapes and the ropes to support the large window. However—despite the fact that this was where he grew up—it didn't feel like home, but more of a prison.

Maybe his last memory here had influenced his opinion, or maybe it was how he always felt about this place.

He rested his hands in the pockets of his trousers as he strolled down the halls, not even sparing the portraits a glance, his eyes focused solely on how he walked one foot in front of the other on top of the stone tiles.

As he drew closer to the top of the grand staircase, he stopped. His ears perked up at the sounds of a beautiful string quartet playing from a distance. He tried to quieten his breathing as he listened carefully to the tempo, the rhythm flowing through his body. 

He began to descend the staircase slowly, still following the sound of the music as though it had hypnotized him—maybe it had. His feet led him down another long corridor once he reached the bottom and through large double doors into a ballroom filled with men in suits and women in gowns.

The music acted more like a soundtrack to each group's individual conversation.

Draco's eyes darted around the room, scanning who was where even if most of the guests amongst him were strangers. He immediately noticed his father in the far right, a drink in one hand while the other was shoved in his suit pocket. His hair was tied back into a ponytail—a tight one from the look on his face.

He moved further into the room, and his feet had come to a halt when an older woman stood in front of him, eyeing him. 

"Draco, how lovely to see you." She said to him, earning herself a grateful nod. "My my, don't you look fetching? I'm sure my daughter will think so. She used to have a thing for you, you know."

Draco raised his eyebrows in an amused surprised manner as the corner of his lip tugged upwards into a smirk. "Did she? It's the first I've heard of it. I am truly flattered. In fact, I'll go tell her myself."

The lady giggled. "Of course. Enjoy your night."

"You too."

He gave her a quick nod before maneuvering around the crowds of people to get to the topic of their discussion. He found her sitting at one of the tables chatting with Theodore, a drink in her hand while her chin was being held up by the other.

It wasn't hard for him to find her, given she was throwing her head back and letting out her loud, barking laugh almost every thirty seconds. 

He sat down in the chair next to her and said, "So, I hear you used to have a thing for me. It's good you've got great taste."

She paled, "Who told you that?"

"Your mother."

She groaned, "For fuck sake. That was when I was, like, twelve. Honestly that woman never forgets anything. It gets annoying after a while."

"Wait, seriously?" Theodore asked, his lip quirked as he brought his glass up to his lips. When she nodded shamefully, he chuckled. "Of all people, I wouldn't of expected that."

"How so?"

"You're gay, Pansy." Theodore threw a look over at Draco, who couldn't contain his laughter any longer. 

"Yeah, well I had a crush on him before I came out." Pansy rolled her eyes irritably as the boys continued to laugh. She then connected her brown eyes onto Draco's grey ones. "You should be offended, you know." When he raised a brow in confusion, she continued with a sly smile. "My crush on you was the reason I realized I like women better."

Theodore giggled some more, while Draco shook his head. He expected to be offended at her comment, but for some reason he wasn't. Maybe it was the alcohol. So, he said before taking another swivel of his drink, "You're welcome."

A change of melody and new lyrics being sung had caught Draco's attention as he recognized this instantly. It was one of his favorite songs. He huffed to himself as he felt his lips curl into a smile. He shook his head before downing another drink quickly. Maybe too quickly.

He glanced around the room; some guests were dancing, some were giggling, some were smoking. It was the way it should be. His eyes jumped from each individual to the next, feeling his chest deflate slightly when he scanned them.

He let his mind wander as he happily took a sip of Pansy's drink when she wasn't looking, though Blaise—who was making his way over to their table—noticed immediately and snorted to himself, shaking his head humorously.

Draco had been absentmindedly turning to the door and waiting. What he was waiting for, he didn't even know. All he knew was that something was expected to walk through those doors, and he would be grateful.

"She's not coming, mate." 

Draco was snapped out of his daze at Theodore's brutally honest words. His heart slowed for a moment, though he had no idea why. He lifted a brow cluelessly, and his friend continued.

"Astoria. She's not coming. Didn't you get her letter this morning?" Draco shook his head, and Theodore sighed. "She's come down with the Flu; Daph has it as well, and their parents don't want it to spread so they passed on tonight's annual Easter Ball. Sorry, mate."

Draco nodded, and Blaise patted him on the shoulder before Pansy finally spoke, her tone loud and confused as per usual.

"What? Daph's not coming? Why did you get a letter and I didn't?"

Theodore shrugged casually, "She's mad at you." He took another sip of his drink as Pansy widened her eyes.

Pansy's brows furrowed; she was hurt. "What for?"

"I think I'm going to go for a stroll." said Draco before he could stop himself. He gestured at Blaise, who was already standing and fixing his blazer, nodding at the exit. The blonde man pulled back his chair and stood, walking alongside his best friend while Theodore explained everything to a forlorn Pansy.

Draco couldn't help but scan the ballroom once more, his eyes finally coming to the conclusion that she wasn't going to be there—despite how much he wanted her to be. He wanted to take her dancing, he wanted to walk around the grounds of the manor with her, then he wanted to bring her up to his room and make her feel the way nobody else could. Not in the same way.

"It's not Astoria you're waiting for, is it?" 

"Hm?" Draco hummed back, and Blaise let out a chortle. The blonde one raised an eyebrow, pushing his best friend to elaborate as the cold air gusted into their faces when they finally took a step outside. "What?"

"It's not Astoria you're waiting for." He said again, no longer a question, but a statement.

"It is, actually."

"No it's not." Blaise defended. "It's someone else."

Draco smirked. "You think you know me so well? Go on then, tell me who I'm waiting for. I'm intrigued to know."

"That's something I'd like to know myself." The mood between them suddenly changed as Blaise's eyes darkened, stopping in his tracks to glare at his best friend dead in the eye. "If it is who I think it is, you're on your own, mate."

Draco's body started to lose its shivering, his mind spinning and his blood rushing through his ears. He didn't recognize this feeling. Not at all. Maybe he was—

He panted heavily as he pulled himself up, his hands immediately moving to cover his face. He peaked through his fingers and stared at the plain white walls surrounding him, and the couch Granger had slept on last night being vacant.

He expected her to be there, or at least in the room, but she wasn't, and he felt his chest deflate at the empty space.