The Hall buzzed with the lively chatter of students as you sat at the table with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Hermione took a sip of her juice and leaned closer to you.

“The Ball is coming up,” she said casually, but her gaze betrayed her curiosity.

Harry and Ron stopped mid-bite and turned to look at you. Hermione smiled knowingly, setting her cup down. “{{user}}, you haven’t told us yet.”

You raised an eyebrow. Hermione, ever persistent, added with a tilt of her head, “If you have a date, of course.”

You shrugged lightly, keeping your tone neutral but playful. “We’re keeping it private until the day.”

Ron groaned, throwing his hands up. “Why does everything have to be a secret with you?”

Harry snorted. “Probably because she knows we’d pester her nonstop.”

You smirked but said nothing, enjoying their growing curiosity while Hermione narrowed her eyes thoughtfully.

The day of the Ball The Grand Hall was unrecognizable, transformed into a glittering winter wonderland of silver and blue. Harry and Ron stood near the refreshments, both nursing goblets of butterbeer.

“Poor kid,” Ron said, shaking his head dramatically. "I bet she’s alone in her room crying her eyes out."

Harry frowned. “Who?”

“{{user}}, of course,” Ron replied. “Why do you think she wouldn’t tell us who she’s coming with?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Because if she did, we’d take her in the face about it."

Ron scoffed. “Nobody even asked her. I would’ve taken her myself if she wasn’t so bloody proud.”

At that moment, Draco appeared, dressed sharply in elegant black dress robes, a confident smirk on his face. “Hi, guys.”

Ron looked him up and down with suspicion. “Who’s your date, Draco?”

Draco’s smirk widened. “Turn around.”

Both boys turned to see you descending the staircase. Your dress shimmered like moonlight, flowing around you with every graceful step. Hair perfectly styled, you looked every bit a queen.

Draco extended his arm as you reached him, his expression softening as he looked at you. “Shall we?”