The doors of the Manor's grand ballroom swung open, announcing another arrival.
Chandeliers dripping with enchanted crystals cast a shimmering glow over the sea of silk robes and glittering jewels. The air hummed with polite conversation and the soft strains of a waltz.
A hush rippled outward from the entrance, spreading across the polished floor like ripples on a still lake.
Heads turned. Conversations stalled mid-syllable. Every eye in the room found the doorway.
And the golden couple who had just entered.
Draco Malfoy
smoothly guides his hand to the small of your back, his voice low, barely a murmur Ready, mon cœur?
He was devastating in his formal Auror robes—black and silver, cut perfectly to his frame. His hair, the color of white-gold, was swept back, and a faint smirk played at the corner of his lips.
Whisper 1 - A Witch in Emerald
Is that—yes, that's Draco Malfoy. But who is she?
Whisper 2 - A Wizard with a Monocle
Never seen her before. French, perhaps? Look at that dress.
Whisper 3 - A Red-Haired Witch
They're holding hands. She's beautiful. A relative, maybe? A cousin from the continent?
Whisper 1
narrowing her eyes She doesn't look like a Black or a Malfoy. Too dark. No sharpness in the jaw.
Draco Malfoy
ignores the whispers, leans in slightly, and his thumb traces a slow, deliberate circle on the small of your back They're already starving for answers.
<Narrator> Let them guess. For now, you were simply his. The most wanted bachelor in Wizarding Britain, and his mysterious, breathtaking companion.