Title: To Live Forever
Author: Wyld Rose
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I only own the plot, JK Rowling owns the rest!
Chapter 5: The Masquerade
The Halloween Festival was a little different this year than it had been in previous years. Professor McGonagall thought it would be interesting to have a Masquerade in the Ballroom of Hogwarts, which was seldom used, for the fifth through seventh years, while the first through fourth years enjoyed their typical Halloween Feast in the Great Hall. The students were warned a month ahead of time so that they could prepare their costumes for the Masquerade. The primary stipulation for the Masquerade was that of any traditional Masquerade—They must all wear masks and not reveal themselves until the stroke of midnight. The fifth through seventh years were extremely excited about this event, and wrote home often to their parents in hopes that they would send them money to help furnish their costumes.
Music was provided by an enchantment spell cast on several instruments (piano, harp, string section, clarinet, flute, and drums) by Professor Yonn. The students were particularly interested in this, because they had not known about Professor Yonn’s interest in music.
The lights were low, provided by flickering torches along the walls and two charm-suspended chandeliers. A grand stairway spilling down from the floor above was carpeted with damask burgundy velvet. Statues of gargoyles and other fanciful creatures were placed here and there, guarding the entrance, stairs, and pillars. Round tables with damask burgundy cloth overlaid with white satin flanked the dance floor. Students in their elaborate costumes began filling the Ball Room, observed by the Professors in their own costumes who sat at a long table at the base of the stairs—which split to the right and left as they descended to the dance floor.
Draco Malfoy felt at home in the semi-gothic ambiance. He observed the scanty costumes that adorned the shapely females as they passed, slightly annoyed that he could scarcely tell them apart for their extremely concealing masks. What was worse, everyone seemed afraid to talk much, as if their voices might give away their identities. Draco’s own mask was very uncomfortable, and he kept adjusting it every so often. It was unmistakable that Draco had chosen to dress as a vampire this evening, and many girls paused to watch him walk by, thinking he looked quite dashing. Sexy, was more like it.
Tatheryn, who felt much better, and Denethor had planned their costumes together in secret, not really wanting to find themselves dancing with someone else come midnight. Tatheryn wore an iridescent white satin ball gown with a laced up bodice. His long alabaster hair was up in an 18th century-style mass of curls and ringlets, and a butterflyesque mask with lace, pearls, satin, and feathers, was covering his face. Denethor wore a sleek black 18th century-style tuxedo with a bunch of lace at his throat and spilling from the cuffs of his sleeves. A white mask covered his face partially, thick black spikes hanging over the ivory mask in their typical unkempt fashion. The Phantom of the Opera and…whoever her name was. Draco thought, passing them by.
Draco paused a few paces away from the banister of the Grand Stairway when noticed a rather attractive, unfortunately masked, female descending the stairs. She wore a very long dress of pearlescent chiffon over shimmery satin that seemed to melt from gold, to orange, to red as it draped down her body. The sheer belled sleeves draped from her slender arms and hung to the floor, mimicking the transition from gold to red as the body of the dress. Her mask consisted of a similar butterflyesque shape as Tatheryn’s, however it was patterned to look more like fire. A gold veil poured from the crown of her mask and covered the back of her head, draping to the floor like a sunlight-drenched waterfall. Draco smirked beneath his mask, eyes roaming up and down the body of this fire goddess as she came near. Her skin was laced with a slight golden sheen, and she looked up to Draco as she passed. He strained to figure out who she was, but her costume concealed her identity perfectly.
On the other side of the Ballroom, Harry, dressed as a knight, was unknowingly dancing with Hermione, who was dressed as the goddess Hera. Her long, feminine, Greek tunic was glittering baby-blue silk with an even paler blue bridal veil and mask decorated with pearls. Ron was pacing around the room in his feudal Japanese attire, his mask that of a samurai warrior. He was searching everywhere for Hermione, irritated that she didn’t tell him her costume.
"Hermione!" Ron yelled over the crowd, causing several people to look up. Pansy and Morgan, dressed as rather smutty versions of Cinderella and Cleopatra respectively, sniggered and pointed to Ron, recognizing his voice.
"There is that weasel boy, dressed like some blundering idiot," Pansy whispered behind her hand to Morgan.
"I wonder how his family could have afforded that costume!" Morgan cackled as she adjusted the top of her costume so that it would produce more cleavage.
Draco immediately recognized them as he wandered past, following his fire goddess. Fortunately, he had the hood of his vampire cloak pulled over his head to help obscure his identity. Pansy and Morgan watched him pass, smiling and flaunting their assets. Draco was definitely not the purest of individuals where women were concerned, but he preferred his women to have at least a mild trace of a brain in their heads. The softly swaying hips of the fire goddess as she moved through the crowd were enough to make him forget about Pansy and Morgan. He was determined to capture her. To his surprise, she halted and spun around to face him.
"Why are you following me?" she demanded to know, with a vaguely familiar voice.
"Because, I want to dance with you," Draco responded, trying not to sound too much like himself. Because you will dance with me. Her chin jutted out as she looked up at him composedly, trying to figure out who he was.
"All right," she gave in, offering him a slight curtsey. They assumed the traditional ballroom dance position and moved along with the slow rhythm of the enchanted instruments.
Ron was utterly perturbed. He sat, sulking, at one of the round tables near where Harry and Hermione were dancing. Hermione glanced to the side and noticed the Japanese warrior brooding alone, and thought that looked an awful like something Ron would do. She glanced up at her knight and politely excused herself. Gliding over to Ron as gracefully as she could manage, she tapped him on the shoulder and held out her hand. Ron glanced up at her and stood swiftly.
"’Mione? Is that you?" He asked frantically. Hermione recognized his voice at once, yet was sure not to respond to his question. She kept her hand out, and eventually he took it. They danced together for the remainder of the evening, and Hermione assumed that he confirmed to himself that he was indeed dancing with his girlfriend.
Harry, feeling slightly dejected, looked around for any unattached girls. Deciding on a whim that he would rather sit and put something on his stomach, he moved to a round table and began to eat as soon as his plate appeared.
Hermione glanced over Ron’s shoulder to see the vampire and the fire goddess in a rather close embrace as they danced to the music. She remembered the costume that Ginny was planning to wear, a fire spirit, she called it. Hermione’s eyebrows met, trying to figure out the identity of the vampire, who had Ginny cradled dangerously close to him in his arms. She dared not let Ron spin around to see someone all over his little sister like that, so she steered them away carefully.
Ginny had never felt so drawn to someone in all of her life, but something about her dancing partner made her not want to dance with anyone else for the rest of the evening. She looked up to him, trying to see beyond the white mask that covered his entire face. The mask was expressionless, little fangs emerged from it’s lips and a drop of blood was painted carefully beneath one of the ivory canines. The eyes were especially vacant, evidently there must have been some type of see-through black fabric on the other side.
The back of her dress was open, and she felt one of his hands slide up her bare skin to feel her hair. This action sent a wonderful chill up her spine and she responded by pressing herself closer to him. Ginny continued to gaze up at his expressionless mask, and bit her lip when he dragged his hand down her back to rest on her hip.
Draco blinked behind his mask. The moment she bit her lip she gave away her identity to him. The curiosity of how her family could have afforded such a lavish costume crossed his mind, and then he remembered that Author Weasley was now the Minister of Magic. He tugged on her waist and began to back away from the dance floor. She followed, confused, and was lead out of the ballroom all together. Couples were scattered in the hallway outside, and Draco led her further down the hall, rounding a corner. This hallway was desolate, and Ginny’s defenses went up around her immediately.
"Take me back…what are you doing?" She asked, slight panic in her voice as she began to back away. Draco was quick to catch her and kept her from leaving with a strong, but painless, grip on her wrist. All around them the sound of bells echoed through out the ancient castle. Midnight.
"You will be glad I dragged you out here when we take off our masks," Draco explained icily, knowing that if Ron, Harry, or anyone for that matter discovered who she was dancing with, all Hell would break loose in the Ballroom. Ginny had no idea what he was getting at, but she nodded softly, growing anxious to see who he was.
"Before I take off my mask, I just wanted you to know that we are supposed to kiss once our identities are revealed," Ginny said hopefully, picturing her prince charming beneath the vampire mask. She heard an amused murmur, muffled by the mask, and bit her lip again.
"I’m willing to suffer the consequences. You first," said Draco, so far relieved that his mask seemed to be distorting his voice enough so that it wasn’t recognizable. Ginny slowly raised a hand and slid the mask off to reveal the rest of her face, not to mention her flaming red hair. She continued to stare into the hollow eyes of Draco’s mask, anticipating its removal.
Draco hesitated for a few moments, content to stare at her as she stood there, calm and resolute. At last, after what seemed to Ginny like years, he began to lift the mask from his face, pushing the hood of his cloak back in the process.
She found herself staring up into reticent gray eyes.
"You...," Ginny whispered, taking a step back. She thought she saw a slight frown tug at the corner of his mouth.
"Yes," Draco responded impassively. Ginny now understood why he pulled her away from the crowd. She twisted the veil of her mask nervously, looking anywhere but at him.
Draco abandoned all sense of pride and leaned down, pressing his lips gently on the corner of her mouth. The heat from his kiss made her feel dizzy and she closed her eyes, unconsciously tilting her head towards him. Then as quickly as it had come, the kiss was gone, and Draco turned to walk away. Ginny slowly opened her eyes and watched him leave, unsure if she wanted to run after him or pass out. The fiery mask slipped from her grasp and fell to the ground as she reached to touch the corner of her mouth where he kissed her.
| Previous Chapter | Home | Next Chapter |
Draco and Ginny belong to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury, Scholastic, Warner Bros and various other corporations. They are being used here without permission and/or affiliation with the above. None of the authors listed here make any profit from these stories.