A few was not enough, however. He was fully aware - or, at least, he had convinced himself - that the presence of three male Triwizard Tournament champions had put him at a slight disadvantage: especially when you considered that one was an internationally famous Quidditch player. The groups of girls following that buffoon were evidently desperate, and Draco had noticed some of his own followers hanging around him. He wasn’t quite sure why, but this had made him a little angry. Not that he couldn’t have had any of those girls: he knew he was too good for them, but he didn’t like the fact that they appeared to have transferred their affections. So Draco did what any Prince would do when their kingdom was being threatened by a deadly enemy: he devised a plan of attack.
It was Sunday night, and he was sitting alone in the cavernous Slytherin common room, adding the final flourishes to an elaborate set of posters. Eventually, he put down his peacock-feathered quill and sat back to admire his handiwork. The scrolls of parchment, covered in sparkling emerald green writing, were truly a masterpiece, and presented his plan in the most satisfying way.
requests the pleasure of your company in a series of tournaments to determine who will have the honour of being escorted by him as his date to the Yule Ball. Whichever lucky lady wins this unique opportunity will have the respect of the entire school, and will, naturally, increase her social standing once known as the choice of this esteemed gentleman.
Eagerly awaiting your applications by owl post,
Draco Malfoy
(Note: unattractive girls and Hufflepuffs need not apply)
Yes, he thought, that seemed official enough. Not too elitist, so he might give the odd Gryffindor, Ravenclaw or ginger an equal chance, and yet not too approachable, so as to scare off any unwanted mountain trolls or idiots. Although, judging by the state of his female classmates, that might well rule out a large majority.
–Wat’cha doing?â€
Draco looked up despairingly at the sadly familiar tone of total idiocy, to see Vincent Crabbe looking down at him with a befuddled expression on his face.
–I’m writing.â€
–But… why?â€
–It’s something people do when they want to communicate things.â€
–Yeah, but that doesn’t look like homework.â€
–For once in your life you are correct, Crabbe, it is not homework,†Draco said, testily, wondering how on earth he had ever got lumbered with this excuse for a human being. There was more troll in him than in all the girls at Hogwarts, and that was saying something.
–For goodness sake, Crabbe, you do ask the stupidest of questions!†cried a shrill voice from behind Draco. He turned around to see Pansy hovering over him, and his heart sank just a little. He had not been prepared for the argument which he knew was about to ensue. As Crabbe shuffled off, Pansy looked down at the pile of parchment on Draco’s desk. –What are you doing?â€
–Nothing,†he replied, hastily, attempting to cover the main body of the writing nonchalantly with his arm.
–’The most eligible male at Hogwarts’?â€
Too late. Draco held his breath as he watched Pansy’s vulture-like eyes scan the lines of beautifully penned text greedily, and waited for the oncoming outburst of hysteria. She stopped reading. She put the parchment back on the desk. She took a breath.
And all hell broke loose.
–YOU’RE HOLDING A COMPETITION TO FIND YOUR DATE TO THE YULE BALL? I THOUGHT YOU WERE TAKING ME! YOU SAID THE OTHER DAY THAT WE COULD GO TOGETHER-â€
–Pansy-â€
–NO, YOU LISTEN TO ME! THERE IS NO WAY YOU CAN JUST SHAKE ME OFF LIKE THIS, YOU PROMISED WE COULD GO TOGETHER!â€
–Oh for goodness sake, woman, would you just shut up? You obviously heard me incorrectly, I only asked who you were going with, I never meant any more than that - it was you who read all that rubbish into it!â€
–But you said-†whined Pansy, her shrill voice beginning to sound like a banshee.
–No, I didn’t. You only thought I did.â€
Pansy fell silent, and Draco could tell that she was thinking hard about exactly what had transpired the previous day. He relaxed. Judging by his extensive knowledge of the female psyche, he had sewn a seed of doubt in her mind, and whether she did remember what he had said or not, she would remain uncertain as to his exact words. He waited a few more seconds to let this sink in, and then laid a hand on her shoulder. –Don’t worry, Pansy. You might still get to go with me. If you apply for my special competition, I guarantee that I’ll put you straight through the first round.†Thinking that would pacify her, Draco sat back, and waited for the expression of peace and understanding that he was so sure would come.
It didn’t. Pansy’s face darkened so quickly that it was like someone had flicked a switch in her brain. She stood up slowly, as though she was trying to look very dignified, and stalked off to her dormitory.
–I’ll look forward to your application!†Draco called after her, but she appeared not to have heard him. –Ah, Draco, you irresistible beast,†he cooed to himself. –You really do work wonders with those females.†Satisfied with obtaining what he presumed to be his first candidate, he rolled up the pile of posters, and set off to put them up around the castle, happily anticipating the vast amount of girls who would be eagerly applying.
As Draco sat at the breakfast table on Monday morning, trying desperately to wake up properly before his first lesson (he had never been a morning person), he gradually became aware of a cluster of owls making their way to his seat. They all bore small rolls of parchment, and as he unravelled the first one, he realised that the applications had already started flooding in. Even he was surprised at how quickly these girls had got wind of his little competition; but he was not surprised by the sheer amount of enthusiastic applications.
He looked around, smugly, noting the curious glances coming from his fellow Slytherins, and tucked the letters away in his pocket for future perusal. He saw Pansy glaring fixedly at him from afar, and realised that she must be worried about her chances against the flocks of other girls vying for his approval. If she was nice to him, he might perhaps give her a boost to the third round of the competition, but at this rate she would be getting no favours. Really, was she totally oblivious to the fact that frowning was more likely to give one wrinkles? That was why he saved it only for special occasions, and instead usually graced the world with a display of his perfect set of pearly-whites.
Throughout the rest of the day, Draco was practically battered by the flurries of owls that were rooting him out, delivering letters in all sizes, colours, and even scents. The influx was so numerous that one strange Ravenclaw girl with dirty blonde hair started following him around as well, muttering something about a likely infestation of Chizpurfles making these owls gravitate around one individual. So constant was the stream of owls, that Draco didn’t have a chance to even glance over the applications until after dinner that evening.
He collapsed, exhausted, onto an armchair in the common room, his bag teeming with pieces of parchment, and even the occasional box of chocolates from those particularly desperate girls who had evidently tried to boost their chances. All this attention really was incredibly flattering, and Draco had noted the looks of what must be jealousy that had been thrown at him by a variety of his fellow males. Well, either jealousy or disgust. But the disgust was obviously a cover for the boys’ jealousy.
Deciding to ignore his homework that night, Draco pulled out the first application letter, and leant back in contentment as he let the wash of compliments and promises hit him.
Dear Draco,
My name is Edith Hart, and I am writing to apply for your Yule Ball competition.
I am a Fifth Year Ravenclaw, interested in Ancient Runes and Goblin history. Most importantly, however, I am a dedicated fan of the Weird Sisters, and on hearing rumours that they will be attending the Yule Ball, have made up my mind to go. Owing to a lack of offers, I decided to apply to your competition. It is very important that I go, because I need to give the Sisters the play I wrote about them, starring myself, which is sure to be a great hit, if only they would read it.
Hoping you’ll consider my application (otherwise I might just jump off the Astronomy Tower),
Edith Hart
Oh, Merlin’s mouldy nightcap, what was wrong with this girl? He hastily picked up the next one.
To the Prince of my Heart,
I’ve seen you around school. I watch you when I pass you in the corridors. You never seem to notice me, and yet our souls are connected. When we’re both in the common room and you’re sitting on your own doing your homework, I watch as your strong hands hold the delicate quill gently; watch as your supple fingers make ink marks on the parchment that stay there for eternity -just as your soul has made marks on mine.
You need me as much as I need you, and I know that this Yule Ball will be the beginning of something beautiful.
Your soul mate
Well that was frankly alarming. Never mind, there must be some normal people in this vast pile somewhere.
Draco,
I am perfect for you. I come from an American school, and know very few people at Hogwarts. Fortunately for me, Harry Potter soon befriended me, even though I have a tragic, hidden background that I refuse to speak of for fear of burdening others with my past. Despite this friendship, I can’t help but notice that whilst he and all the other Gryffindors think of you as an annoying berk, I have seen that really you’re simply misunderstood. I am aware that a romance between us would be of the Romeo and Juliet kind - forbidden love, and all that - but isn’t that the kind of thing that makes stories so exciting?
Waiting eagerly for your response,
Mary Sue
Draco was feeling really rather unnerved at this point. He knew he was popular with the ladies of Hogwarts, but to infuse such burning desires within these apparently unstable girls seemed even to him dangerous. He put down the large pile of parchment, and looked around the common room. He had noticed, to his astonishment, that he had received no letter from Pansy. After her outburst the night before, he could tell that she wanted to go with him, so why hadn’t she applied? And what was this feeling in the pit of his stomach? It wasn’t disappointment, was it? No, it couldn’t be. Draco never had strong feelings for any girl; that was his one rule.
He quashed these worrying thoughts, refusing to start to analyse his own ‘feelings’. Instead, he began flicking through page after page of equally disturbing declarations of love, obsession and, in one case, a very graphic encounter of a dream the girl had had that involved the two of them riding a Hippogriff in a way that certainly wasn’t safe. All he wanted was a nice, normal, attractive girl who would understand the honour of going to the Yule Ball with him. Suddenly, his eyes landed on a promising candidate. The letter was written on a normal piece of parchment, no added charms or colours, and in a nice, neat hand.
Dear Draco Malfoy,
I am writing in reference to your competition. I am a third year Ravenclaw student, and I believe I would be an excellent choice for your partner to the Yule Ball, as Venus is currently in the twelfth house, which suggests that you and I shall interact with great success in December. I am quite interested in going to the Yule Ball, because there are some observations I would like to make about the behavioural patterns of Igor Karkaroff: I therefore won’t be able to remain with you the entire night, and I do hope that won’t count against me. I really think we’d have stimulating conversations when we actually are together.
Yours,
L.L.
Draco noticed the mention of the planetary movements, but knew that a lot of girls put stock in such idle fancies, and decided he couldn’t really set that against her. He didn’t understand what she meant about –observing the behavioural patterns of Igor Karkaroffâ€, but he appreciated her honesty in admitting that she wouldn’t be available to fawn over him all night. In fact, this could turn out beneficial to both, if they didn’t end up connecting. What was more, he enjoyed the mystery of her name. Although in some cases a mysterious sender was ominous, he was now intrigued as to who she might be. He decided to put her straight into the second round, although judging by the other entries it might be the final round; pulled out a length of parchment and his peacock-feathered quill, and began to write.
To the lovely Miss L.L.,
I have received your owl, and am most excited to inform you that you have been entered into the second round of the competition! I would like to offer you the chance of spending an afternoon with me in Hogsmeade this coming weekend to test our compatibility. Meet me in the Entrance Hall at 12 o’clock on Saturday.
Draco Malfoy
He sat back. He would send the letter in the morning, and look out for a face lit up in delight at the breakfast table. He glanced around, surreptitiously looking for a sight of Pansy, but he didn’t see her anywhere. That was strange. Where in the name of Morgana could she be? Again, he abruptly halted his thoughts, refusing to let a girl get to him, and then decided to go to bed early. He needed to get his beauty sleep before Saturday.
The morning of the Hogsmeade trip dawned crisp and frosty. As Draco took a leisurely breakfast in the Great Hall, he looked over at the Ravenclaw table, hoping to catch sight of the girl who he would soon be encountering. He didn’t think he had any luck: the table was practically deserted apart from a group of tired-looking seventh years and that blonde girl who’d been following him around a couple of days ago. She appeared to be talking to herself.
A hard whack to the back of his head knocked Draco out of his reverie, and he spun around to see Pansy stalking past him on her way back to the common room. She hadn’t spoken to him since she had found out about his competition. Really, she was being most immature.
Draco yawned and got to his feet, following the trail of perfume Pansy had left behind her on the way to the dungeons. He spent the next half an hour assembling the perfect look for his date, and eventually, at ten to twelve, he settled on one: casual with a splash of sophistication. He decided to wait until twelve o’clock before he went upstairs: it wouldn’t do to look too eager. He strolled up the stairs to the Entrance Hall, and joined the back of the slowly dwindling queue of students eager to escape the confines of the castle. He looked around for a girl standing on her own, but saw none. That was odd. She ought to have been here five minutes ago.
He craned his neck to see past the flock of students before him, and then heard someone call his name. When he spun around, however, he saw that it was only Pansy, hanging onto the arm of none other than Theodore Nott. –All alone, Draco? Date not come yet?†she asked, sneeringly.
–She’s just powdering her nose.â€
–Well, I shouldn’t waste time waiting for someone who’s not going to turn up,†she whispered loudly, and then shrieked with laughter. Draco watched as she and Nott strode off together. Something gnawed in the pit of his stomach.
–Excuse me, are you Draco Malfoy?†The girl who had been talking to herself at breakfast was standing uncommonly close to him.
–Yes. What do you want?â€
–I’m Luna Lovegood. You told me to meet you here.â€
Oh, Merlin. This couldn’t be right. –Er, did you send me an application?â€
–Yes.â€
–The one about the –twelfth house†and, er… Karkaroff?â€
–Oh, you mean the Inferius? Yes.â€
–Inferius?â€
–Didn’t you know? I thought everyone did. Karkaroff’s an Inferius. It’s very cleverly done, but it’s only a matter of time before he’s taken in by the Ministry of Magic. Someone should keep an eye on him until then.â€
–Er… right.â€
–So shall we go?†She grabbed his arm and led him, rather unwillingly, towards Argus Filch. After being breathed on by the foulest of breaths, and pronounced eligible to leave, they were finally in the fresh air. –He’s not a nice man, is he?â€
–Who?â€
–Mr Filch.â€
–Oh, no, he’s not.†Draco’s thoughts wandered back to that terrible night in his first year, when Filch had dragged him down to the Forbidden Forest to do detention. He didn’t think he’d ever forget the sight of that unicorn… He stopped himself from thinking any further. He had to work out what on earth he was going to do! He couldn’t be seen in public with this girl! Especially not by Pansy.
–What do you want to do in Hogsmeade?†asked Luna, apparently oblivious to his gross embarrassment.
–Er…â€
–You seem to be very confused. Are you sure you haven’t got Wrackspurts in your brain?â€
–I - what?â€
–Wrackspurts. They’re creatures that make your brain go fuzzy. Didn’t you know that?â€
This wouldn’t do. This girl evidently was no match for him. He might as well give it up now, and go back to the pile of applications. But he couldn’t bear to see Pansy give him her ‘I-told-you-so’ look. It was so patronising! –Let’s go to the Three Broomsticks,†he said confidently.
–Ok!â€
The two of them walked side by side down towards the Hogwarts gates and into Hogsmeade, Luna chatting brightly along the way, Draco staring absently in front of him. He was trying to pretend he wasn’t aware that she was walking with him in case a passing Slytherin noticed anything strange. He didn’t know what could be done, and that was a first: Draco prided himself on his cunning ability to remain one step ahead of everyone else, but this had dumfounded him.
They entered the Three Broomsticks after what seemed an interminable walk into the village, and as they waited by the bar to order drinks, Draco looked around furtively to see if anyone was there whom he might be acquainted with. His stomach dropped. Pansy and Nott were sitting in the centre of the room, and they appeared to be a lot closer than usual. Either that or they’d had their tongues stuck together with a Permanent Sticking Charm. He felt a twinge in his stomach again, which he couldn’t quite define.
He turned brusquely back to the bar just in time to order two Butterbeers. Luna was looking around her happily, apparently in some kind of daydream. He nudged her when their drinks arrived, and led her over to a free table. An all-too-familiar shriek of laughter caught his notice as they passed Pansy’s table, and he felt himself go red. Apparently she had unstuck herself from Nott long enough to notice his unusual conquest.
Deciding to ignore his annoyance, he turned to Luna. –So. Why did you apply to attend the Yule Ball as my date?†He was trying to inject his usual charm into his voice, but for some reason he couldn’t. The words hung in the air limply, as though they refused to be enticed by this strange specimen in front of them.
–Well, like I said in my letter, I want to check on Karkaroff. But I’d also quite like to go anyway. It’s my only chance, you know.â€
–Because you’re a third year.â€
–Yes. I think it will be quite fun.â€
–Will many of your friends be there?â€
–Oh, I don’t really have friends. People think I’m a little odd, you know.â€
–Really?†Draco asked dryly, wondering why she sounded so perplexed. This was ridiculous. There was no way he would deign to be seen in public with a girl like this. He was going to have to tell her that she wouldn’t be accompanying him, and then return to the pile of rejected applications, hoping to find a promising one he’d missed.
Or… his eyes had wandered over to Pansy whilst he had been thinking. He was starting to think something funny was going on inside him. But it couldn’t be. He never had serious feelings for a girl. But as Pansy’s lips inched closer and closer to Nott’s, smiling slyly as he whispered something in her ear, Draco felt a sudden urge to knock him out of the way, and replace those sneering lips with his own. The lips touched briefly. NO!
The room fell silent, and a crowd of faces turned to look at him. Oh, Merlin. He had shouted that out loud, hadn’t he? He turned to look at Luna, who was observing him with a look of mild interest. Then he slowly turned back to Pansy.
–Do you have a problem, Draco?†she asked, smugly.
–I… you… unf†he mumbled vaguely, for some reason unable to articulate his jumbled thoughts.
–You couldn’t possibly be jealous, could you?†Draco blinked, and shook his head slowly. –Well it certainly seems like you are. Why on earth would you want stop me from kissing Theodore otherwise?†She smiled again as she registered the look of hopeless confusion on Draco’s face, and knew she had won. –I’m afraid Draco won’t be needing a date to the Yule Ball,†she said, directing her attention to Luna, who didn’t seem particularly put out. –He’ll be going with me, because he couldn’t bear to go with anyone else.â€
–Oh, I don’t mind really,†replied Luna. –Just make sure you keep an eye on Karkaroff!â€
Pansy sat down abruptly, and turned her attention back to Nott. Draco stared after her, open-mouthed. He wasn’t quite sure how, but he thought he had just found the one person who could ever have the chance of catching him. And he liked it.