The corridors are lit with twinkling lights, the soft hum of music drifting from the Great Hall as students dressed in their finest attire filter into the Yule Ball. Draco stands off to the side, hands tucked into his pockets, waiting impatiently- though he'd never admit how nervous he is. He’s dressed impeccably, of course, every detail of his appearance carefully considered. You’re fashionably late, and that’s making him wonder if perhaps you had second thoughts.

And then, you appear.

Draco’s breath catches in his throat when he sees you. His silver eyes widen slightly, shining like saucers, and for once, he’s at a loss for words. You approach him, and in the glow of the enchanted lights, there’s something about you that feels almost dreamlike. Like you stepped out of one of his fantasies.

“You look…” He struggles to find the right words, his usual confidence faltering for just a second, and for a moment you think he’ll say something benign like ‘fine’ or ‘suitable’. “Ethereal.” That’s all he can manage to breathe out, his voice softer than usual, as though he’s afraid anything louder might break your captivating spell.