Chapter 81: 4-3

—The result.

A crushing defeat, naturally. I was given the cold shoulder. If anything, I was nearly given extra homework with a sharp, "If you have time to think about such nonsense, go improve the quality of your essays!" Everyone except Hermione couldn't stand it and fled.

I moved on to my next strategy.

"I don't have a dress."

Because I had absolutely no intention of attending something like the Yule Ball in the first place. Why would I pack extra luggage for an event that wasn't on my itinerary?

I stubbornly refused to prepare one. Even though dress robes were listed on this term's supply list, I conveniently chose to ignore that specific item. I knew that if I breathed even a single word of it to Sirius, he would immediately have one custom-tailored for me, so I fed him a little white lie, telling him that only Harry needed dress robes. (I'm actually keeping Harry's dress robes hidden!)

Yes, I didn't own a single thing to dress myself up like a proper lady—or so I thought.

"It's a bit early, but let's consider this your Christmas present this year."

"...Huh?"

One day, Draco handed me a deep indigo and dark green dress. It was a masterpiece, featuring a gradient from a smooth, night-sky indigo down to a dark green at the hem. It was a truly elegant design, using an abundance of flowing silk, simple yet decorated with a fishtail at the feet. It was tailored perfectly to complement Maria's petite silhouette. I knew it without even putting it on. —It would look stunning on me.

He even provided a pair of modest-heeled pumps—in short, a complete, flawless formal outfit was right there in front of me.

"It wasn't that expensive. It's something even you wouldn't feel intimidated wearing. Don't you think it's much better than having Sirius throw his money around to shower you with a dress at the last minute?"

"..."

I went limp. A dress, finally. Has your series of mysterious Christmas presents that only ever end up gathering dust in my wardrobe really escalated to this point? ...Wait?

"A necklace, earrings, hair ornaments, and the dress—I believe this is more than enough for a Yule Ball ensemble, wouldn't you agree? My lady?"

I couldn't speak. My eyes and mouth wide open, I stared up foolishly at the boy in front of me. Draco dealt the finishing blow with that thoroughly familiar, infuriatingly smug smirk of his.

"Have Granger or someone help you into the dress. —As for your hair, I'll style it for you, just like always. All that practice has finally paid off."

—No way. To think he had this all calculated since that day four years ago.

Damn it. Draco Malfoy—you absolute Slytherin!

Next was finding a partner. —That being said, this time I didn't need to throw a lasso at a cluster of girls walking in a pack. After all, I had a brother of the opposite sex!

I was completely off my guard, fully assuming I would be dancing with Harry—I never in a million years thought that very same Harry would turn me down.

"What?! You promised to go with Ginny?!"

"Yeah... I'm sorry, Maria. I mean, anyone below fourth year can't attend the Yule Ball unless an older student invites them, right? Ginny really wanted to go, so... I just did. Ron asked me to, as well."

"That's... no, you're right... yeah, Ginny will be thrilled..."

My shoulders slumped in defeat. To think—to think I'd be forced to endure this torture once again.

"You could have your pick of anyone, couldn't you, Maria?"

"Don't be ridiculous..."

I shot a heavy glare at Ron, who was teasing me from behind Harry. Harry, meanwhile, was nodding solemnly.

"I can't just leave my Maria in the hands of some random guy. Anyway—Maria? Besides Draco, us... and maybe Cedric. Are there any other boys you can actually relax around? Fred and George already have partners..."

"Why is Malfoy out of the question?"

"Draco already has a partner."

I answered. Of course, his partner was Astoria. Harry knew that too. —No, only Harry knew so far.

Stopping dead in their tracks, Ron and Hermione's eyes went round as saucers before they screamed.

""WHAAAAAT?!""

"Is it really that surprising... I mean, everyone knows about Astoria."

Grumbling to myself, I took a post-lunch stroll alone. Hermione was in the library. (Probably meeting up with Krum.) Harry had been dragged off by Ron.

—Because it stands out. Red and green being together. The Gryffindors were completely used to Draco by now, but Astoria was entirely different from him, starting with her gender. She's a younger, graceful, beautiful girl. She's also a different type from the energetic and pretty Ginny. A beautiful Slytherin girl, the likes of which you never see among the festival-loving Gryffindors, is something of a rarity after all.

"What should I do..."

I clutched my head, remembering how I had agonized over the exact same thing a long time ago. Back then, Ron was right there with me as a fellow leftover... but this time, I had to find a partner all by myself.

Sure, going with Draco or Harry would obviously be the easiest and most comfortable option. But I couldn't selfishly steal them away from Astoria or Ginny for my own convenience. The same went for Cedric. ...Or rather, it would suck to make Cho hate me any more than she already did. Even if she wasn't the girl I had been in love with, she was still, in a way, my first love.

Then what about Ron? But—a maiden in love can sometimes cause rifts even in friendships. Hermione is the one person I absolutely do not want to make an enemy of. Who could possibly defeat the future Minister for Magic!

Sigh... A deep sigh drifted mercilessly down the corridor—just then.

"Hey, Maria! There you are."

The person who tapped my shoulder was that Ravenclaw boy. Something like this had happened before.

"Oh, it's been a while... wait."

Suddenly, I felt as if I were truly seeing him for the first time.

He had grown quite a bit taller. His frame was broader, and his jawline had lost all its baby fat. His dull blonde hair was cropped short, making his face clearly visible. It seemed he had matured significantly into a young man over the summer, both in height and features—and I recognized him.

"...Anthony?"

"Yeah? What's with the sudden formality?"

The Ravenclaw boy—Anthony Goldstein—looked at me with unguarded confusion.

That's right. Anthony. He's Anthony Goldstein! The guy who joined the D.A. (Dumbledore's Army) and even served as a Ravenclaw Prefect! Because "my" memories only knew him from the time we met in the D.A., I hadn't realized it at all.

"You know... you were always pretty tall..."

"Compared to you, Maria, I'm pretty sure most guys are tall."

Implicitly teased for being short, I gave him a very disgruntled poke. Malnutrition during one's growth period is no laughing matter.

"So, what's up? Anthony."

"Oh—that Slytherin guy isn't around, right? Good."

Anthony looked up and down the corridor exaggeratedly, and upon confirming there was no sign of Draco, he continued casually.

"I was wondering if I could nominate myself to be your dance partner."

"Wow, don't tell me you're a leftover too?"

"'You too'...? Don't tell me you are, Maria? What happened to your Slytherin Prince?"

"Draco already snatched up a beautiful girl. Because of that, you're the sole candidate. You win by unanimous vote."

I grinned widely. How lucky Maria is! To think my prey would just jump right into my lap! Now I wouldn't have to lasso some random guy.

"Well, that was a quick decision."

"Because I was in a bind. You were too, right? It's mutual rescue."

We chuckled together. Just knowing he was Anthony Goldstein completely erased any wariness I had.

"Maria."

"—Whoops, well then. It's a date. Let's coordinate our schedules sometime soon."

"Yeah. See you later, Anthony."

The blue robes nonchalantly slipped away today as well from the green robes that inevitably showed up. 'Before', we only really interacted during D.A. meetings—I had no idea he was so approachable. Much like with Cedric, I missed out on a good thing.

"...What was that about?"

Draco slotted himself into the space right beside me where Anthony had just been, shooting me a sullen look while still glaring after the blue robes, so I tilted my head in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"You were calling him by his first name. And you were standing close. Before, you wouldn't let... just a mere acquaintance touch you like that, would you? —Is he an 'insider'?"

At his slightly cryptic question, I just went "Ah," and shrugged.

"That's Anthony. Anthony Goldstein. You might not know him, but he's one of the original members of the D.A. I didn't even realize it myself until just now. —But yes, as you said, he's an 'insider'."

Draco's face soured, as expected. I mean, the D.A. was fun, but it automatically brings back memories of that toad-like old hag, so I couldn't say it was an entirely pleasant feeling from the bottom of my heart either. I was probably rivaling the guy next to me when it came to looking like I'd chewed a bitter bug.

"So, you're going with him, then."

"The timing was perfect. Us leftovers will get along just fine."

"Oh, is that so."

Draco spat out. Then, muttering "No...", he sank into thought, a self-satisfied smirk creeping onto his face as he stared off into the distance.

"Draco?"

"Maria—I am going to dress you up to the absolute nines."

"Huh? Well... I was planning on asking you to anyway?"

Draco touched my hair. Going from a bad mood to a good mood—though it was an unsettling kind of good mood—it was hard to tell what was going on in Draco's head.

Then there was the final problem. With my dress and partner sorted, standing before Professor McGonagall's after-school dance lesson, I finally realized it.

—Ah. I only know how to 'lead'.

Naturally. I wasn't particularly good at dancing to begin with, so there was no way I could execute the 'follow' steps I had never even danced before. If anything, my prior knowledge of the lead steps would get in the way and likely cause frequent accidents. I couldn't guarantee the safety of the tops of Anthony's feet.

This was a grave situation. When the groundwork has been laid this perfectly, human nature dictates that you want to finish the job flawlessly. —Therefore.

"I leave myself in your capable hands for instruction. ...Sir?"

I pinched an invisible dress and bowed before a dumbfounded Draco.

"Why don't you just get drilled by Madam McGonagall along with Harry?"

"Then we'd have to get into the whole discussion of why I know how to dance the lead in the first place!"

"Isn't it a bit late for that? The secretive 'Maria', who knows all sorts of things despite never being taught by anyone?"

"Shut up. ...It's embarrassing doing the female role in front of Harry and the others. Just try to understand."

"I did that on purpose."

I cursed at Draco, who laughed maliciously as he wrapped an arm around my waist. "Keep your head up," he said, lifting my chin, making me strangely flustered. Even though it's Draco. No, maybe because it's Draco. If this were Ron or George, I wouldn't think anything of it.

To think I'm dancing at Hogwarts with that Malfoy, who used to be my rival—honestly, it's crazy.

"Don't worry. I will make you into a perfect lady. —Let's show them what we can do."

"...Show who?"

"Who knows."

He pulled me in close, our foreheads gently touching. Those icy grey eyes, far too close, felt somehow feverish.

Being in a good mood, then a bad mood—Draco really was acting strange.