𝐊𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍 | 𝘍𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘞𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘺

Chapter 74 - The Yule Ball

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Your eyes, the drowsy shed of summer.

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The night of Christmas Eve, Betelgeuse found herself sitting alone on the rumbled covers of George's four-poster bed with her silvery satin gown on and a short note in her hands.

Under the old oak tree by the lake.

That was all. The elegant, slightly curved letters penned in neat calligraphy left no doubt about the sender. It was official. Her father had finally lost his marbles.

Betelgeuse sighed. She was not ready for this new bold side of her father. One impulsive grey-eyed Black was enough in her household.

"Bel? Did you finally elope with my brother?" Came the vibrant voice of George from the bottom of the dorm's stairs.

"I'm right here, you twit!" Fred quibbled.

The twins had a similar tone of voice, of the richest and deepest timbre Betelgeuse had ever heard from boys their age. But the girl had known them from a very young age, and she could tell George's low and husky voice from the gruffiness of Fred's.

She smiled.

"I'm not talking about you, Freddie! I'm still rooting for Charlie, you know!"

The Black could not refrain from laughing at the outraged uproar Fred let out. "Go find Lee," George continued as he made his way up the stone stairs. "And do not peak!"

Betelgeuse raised to her feet, smoothing the flowing silk of her dress. She observed George emerge from the stairs dressed in black dress robes and shiny evening shoes.

"— Come on, Bel, who are we waiting for? Merlin? Because I'm quite sure I saw him frisk around the refreshments' table. Did you seriously make me walk all the way to my dorm? What is this? Some teenage drama trope? Because I swear —"

George raised his eyes, and Betelgeuse saw him falter in his steps and go silent. The younger Weasley twin straightened his necktie and smoothed his waistcoat without uttering a single word.

"Did a Crup got your tongue, George?" Betelgeuse's melodious voice jolted her best friend from his momentary reverie.

George cleared his throat before taking her hand. "Bel, you look like a vision. I can't imagine how a git like my brother was able to win your affection."

"Who?" Betelgeuse inquired, tilting her head. "Charlie? Are you telling me I have a chance with our Dragon Whisperer?"

George threw his head back and laughed. "Bel, you're awful and a master of avoiding talks about feelings," the boy declared, eyeing Betelgeuse with raised eyebrows as they descended the marble stairs.

"Mistress, if you will," Betelgeuse returned, smirking.

"Come on, Mistress o' mine, we're going to be late," George replied, slipping Betelgeuse's arm in his own as they walked out of the Portrait Hole.

"We will be in perfectly fashionable deferment," the Black stated, her shimmering satin gown swaying behind her. "Do not fret."

"You know, Black," George asserted, playfully narrowing his almond-coloured eyes, "sometimes I miss your uncle. He's certainly less dramatic than you."