𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐓𝐅𝐔𝐋 -𝙀𝙫𝙖𝙣 𝙍𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙚𝙧ʰᵖ

𝟬𝟬. 𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀

AURORA

"Name?" The lazy voice of an house elf asked the teenager in front of him — without lifting his gaze. They were in front of a very big and beautiful Manor of the Nott family. A sacred twenty-eight summer ball was held there this year behind those doors.

The teenager in front of the manor let out a sigh, feeling a bit disappointed. "Why's it so tough to recognize me?" they wondered out loud.

With a playful grin, the teenager added, "could it be the mustache? I thought it would make me look more manly. Do you think it does, am I more masculine like this?"

Their fingers fiddled with the 'fake' black mustache on their lips, clearly not matching their blonde hair. The colour difference is so absurdly obvious that it's as if the teenager was purposefully changing this appearance.

The small elf was starting to get irritated, there was a line of pure-blooded families waiting behind the blonde person. Despite the growing line, the blonde remained completely indifferent, continuing with what they were doing as if the line wasn't even there.

"Name?" The elf said with an annoyed and impatient sigh. He seemed to not want any trouble from teenagers this evening.

"Someone's a little dull — I expected an answer," they said, grinning. Recognizing the elf wasn't in the mood for playful banter, the teenager then shared their name, "I'm Evan Rosier." The elf glanced up, showing a hint of guilt to the teenager's response.

"Oh- apologies Master Evan, I didn't recognise you—" the elf started to apologise, but the blonde couldn't care any less. "Yeah whatever."

Stepping into the gorgeously decorated Manor, the air was filled with the timeless melodies of classical music.

The sight was a feast for the eyes, with pure-blooded witches and wizards dressed with impeccably, radiating elegance.

Some were gracefully dancing in the ballroom, while others enjoyed the enchanting atmosphere in the garden.

Strolling through the hall, the blonde teenager casually scanned the surroundings, hoping to find a familiar face amidst the crowd.

In the midst of this search, a voice filled with both surprise and frustration abruptly burst from a room situated just behind the teenager.

"What in fucking merlin's name is this?"

The teenager swiftly pivoted, a mischievous smirk playing on their lips, a spark of anticipation lighting up their eyes as they sensed the tension, being well aware of who it was and the precise reasons to-why he was angry.

The scowling gaze locked onto the blonde teenager.

Amusement from one side, and a threat from the other. 

The angry person had the same face as the blonde, except he didn't have a black, obviously fake mustache like the blonde did.

It was Evan Rosier

Perhaps the other Evan Rosier

"Who the fuck are you?" The question reverberated in the air, charged with a fiery intensity as Rosier swiftly pulled out his wand.

It was a reaction from a sense of urgency, a response to the potential threat that loomed directly in front of him.

The so called "threat" burst into laughter when he pulled out his wand, while Rosier was looking all afraid and confused.

It was quite a sight, and the only witness to this odd scene was a somewhat drunk boy with dark, raven hair lounging on a couch.

"I'm your lost twin, didn't you recognise my face." The blonde joked, not thinking that there would be any trouble after that innocent statement.