9 yule ball: ninth letter

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You're going to the ball with me.

Draco didn't even glance towards Pansy Parkinson's direction as he dropped the note on her lap as he passed by her in the Slytherin's table in The Great Hall. He didn't want his lack of sleep to lessen his swagger so he sat at his usual spot beside Viktor Krum and the other Durmstrang students.

Maybe he should bring Hermione up. Just a joke. Face the wrath of an older Triwizard champion if he has to. Possibly get punched in the face by a professional Quidditch player.

Would be worth it.

"Krum?"

The Durmstrang boys stopped their foreign chatter and looked at him. He didn't notice that he was standing now.

"Yes?" Krum said, he looked up through thick eyebrows. He looked more formidable than usual.

Draco feared that maybe Krum saw him in the library the other day and perhaps right now he could read Draco's thoughts. And just the mere glimpse would be more than enough to send him spiraling out of the Great Hall with a single punch and a hex.

"About..."

Everybody was looking at him in expectation.

"Can you svek a bit louder?" It was a low grumble. An indication that Krum might be getting impatient with the pale faced fourth year wizard.

And Draco knew then with certainty that he didn't stood a chance.

"Er- can you pass the marmalade?"

Krum reached for the jar beside one of his friends and placed it beside Draco. He was shaking as he watched Krum's veiny arms, to think that he would have been into oblivion if he said another word out of line. Krum didn't even look at Draco. He was looking over at the Gryffindor's table on the bushy haired witch with the twinkling eyes.

And he knew then and there that to sit in the same table as her is to battle things worse than dragons.

And Draco was never the brave sort.

"Too bad," he heard Krum said from beside him. "Took a whole lottov 'eart."

He swore then and there that the Durmstrang students must be practicers of a whole other level of Dark Magic.

Because he never had that much heart but even he would never admit it.

He stood up again without as much as touching the marmalade. "Parkinson, don't be late. Or I'm taking someone else." Pansy Parkinson looked down but didn't say a word.

He signaled for Crabbe and Goyle to follow him out. They took their food with them.

It was suffocating in there anyway.

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The night of the Yule Ball came and Draco felt the instant need to make everyone feel like stepped on horse manure.

"Beautiful dress. Never seen anything quite like it..." He approached a Hufflepuff girl. "Oh wait, I had. My dead grandmother's drapes! Cannot beat the classics."

The Hufflepuff girl looked like she was about to burst into tears before her friends led her away from the guffawing Slytherins.

"Great choice of a dress robe, mate. Matches your eyes. Both colored like shit," Draco was on a roll. He positioned himself on the entrance of the hall so he could jeer at all of the students.

"Stupid git. Must have thought that this was a pajama party," he sneered as a lanky Ravenclaw wearing a blue pinstripe suit walked passed them.

Pansy was getting uneasy beside him, she had both her hands clinging on his arm but he doesn't seem to notice her. "Draco, I think we should enter. It's about to start."

Yours in Mayhem |DramioneWhere stories live. Discover now