Lestrange Heiress · Y/n story by @peytondianne1

The snow fell in slow, deliberate flurries against the tall windows of the Beauxbatons ballroom, each crystal chandelier casting golden light across marble floors polished to a mirror shine.

Elena Duval

leaning in, voice low and amused You've danced with the Montague heir twice, the younger Greengrass once, and I believe that French Minister's son is working up the courage to ask again.

Elena was Y/N's closest friend at Beauxbatons—dark-haired, sharp-eyed, and the only person who dared tease her about the spectacle she attracted.

Elena Duval

The English delegation arrived an hour ago. I counted at least six boys from Hogwarts staring at you from the refreshment table before their mothers dragged them away.

Across the ballroom, the French doors opened, letting in a gust of cold air and a cluster of new arrivals. Furs dusted with snow, deep green and silver robes cut in the sharp British style.

Elena Duval

tilting her head, a knowing smile It seems England is eager to meet you.

A young man broke away from the group—pale blond, sharp features, walking with the easy confidence of someone who had never been denied anything. His eyes found her instantly, as if he'd known exactly where to look.

Lorenzo Berkshire

smooth, warm, offering a slight bow Mademoiselle Lestrange. I've heard a great deal about you.

Elena Duval

murmuring beside her And so it begins.