Stolen dance
As Lucille approached the Ravenclaw Common Room, her steps faltered when she saw Padma standing outside, waiting for her. Padma’s usually composed demeanor was replaced by a tearful, earnest expression that immediately drew Lucille’s attention.
“Lucille, please wait,” Padma pleaded, her voice trembling. Lucille hesitated, her emotions still raw from the events of the past days. She wasn’t sure she was ready to hear what Padma had to say, but something in Padma’s earnest tone made her pause.
“I—I’m so sorry,” Padma began, her eyes glistening with tears. “I’ve realized now how wrong I was to turn my back on you. I was just caught up in everything, but none of it was right. You were always there for me, and I should have stood by you. You’re my friend, werewolf or not, and that means more to me than anything.”
Lucille’s heart ached as she listened to Padma’s heartfelt apology. The sincerity in her friend’s voice was undeniable, and the sight of Padma’s tears made Lucille’s resolve soften. She took a deep breath and walked over to her friend, pulling her into a tight embrace.
“It’s okay,” Lucille whispered, her own tears threatening to spill. “I missed you, Padma. I’m glad you’re here.”
Padma clung to Lucille, her sobs gradually quieting as she held her friend close. “I want to move back in with you,” Padma said softly. “I know I made a mistake, but I want to fix it. I want us to be friends again.”
Lucille nodded, feeling a rush of relief and gratitude. “I’d like that too.”
Together, they made their way to their dorm room, their spirits lifted by the reconciliation. With the Yule Ball just hours away, there was little time to waste. They quickly set to work preparing for the evening’s event.
Lucille opened the box Fleur had gifted her, revealing an elegant light green dress adorned with delicate lace and embroidered flowers. The soft, pastel hue of the dress was complemented by the intricate details, giving it a fairy-tale quality. Lucille’s eyes widened with awe as she took in the beauty of the gown.
Padma, now wearing a stunning red dress that made her look like an Indian princess, immediately set to work helping Lucille get ready. She expertly styled Lucille’s hair, twisting it into an elegant updo with soft curls framing her face. Padma added a delicate crown of fresh flowers, their vibrant colors contrasting beautifully with Lucille’s green dress. The floral crown was light and airy, giving Lucille a touch of ethereal grace.
While Padma worked on Lucille’s hair, Lucille reciprocated by helping Padma with her makeup. She applied a rich, red lipstick to Padma’s lips, enhancing the regal look of her red dress. They took turns applying a subtle shimmer to their cheeks, ensuring they both had a radiant glow.
Lucille, feeling the warmth of their renewed friendship, couldn’t help but smile as she admired Padma’s finished look. Padma’s makeup and the red dress, paired with her traditional accessories, gave her a look of stunning elegance. Lucille’s own reflection in the mirror showed a blend of sophistication and charm, with the light green dress fitting her perfectly.
With their hair and makeup complete, the two friends polished their nails with careful strokes, adding the finishing touches to their appearance. Lucille’s nails were done in a soft, complementary shade, enhancing her overall look without overpowering it.
Not to her surprise, Draco wasn't waiting outside the common room. Lucille and Padma, arm in arm, descended the stairs. Padma spotted Ron in front of the Great Hall and hurried over to him. Lucille, feeling a sudden urgency, slipped into a nearby bathroom.
Lucille stood alone in the dimly lit bathroom, the sound of her heels clicking on the cold tiles as she approached the mirror. Her reflection stared back at her, framed by the elegant green dress and the delicate floral crown she had so painstakingly prepared. She had hoped for a magical evening at the Yule Ball, but now her excitement was overshadowed by the cruel words she had just overheard.
The bathroom was sparsely populated, with only two girls hunched over the sinks, adjusting their hair and makeup. Lucille had needed a moment to herself and decided to use the bathroom before heading to the Great Hall. As she reached for the lock on the nearest stall, she heard familiar voices drifting from the vanity area.
“Just wait until Ron sees who’s with Krum,” Ginny Weasley’s voice carried through the air.
“I don’t know, Ginny. But he could’ve asked me earlier,” responded the other girl.
“I know. I was going to skip the ball, you know? But Neville asked me. I had other hopes for who would invite me... ugh. Those boys are so clueless.”
“I swear,” Ginny laughed.
Another voice joined in, crisp and unmistakable. It was Susan Bones.
“Nice dress, Hermione.”
“Thanks, Susan. Yours is lovely too... that golden color is stunning.”
“It makes your eyes even bluer,” Ginny added.
“Haha, stop. You’re going to make me blush,” Hermione said, glancing at her reflection. “I like what you did with your hair, Ginny.”
“Yeah, I wanted it a little curlier.”
“I’d say it’s curly enough. You don’t want to look like... well, you know who.” Susan and Ginny burst into laughter.
Lucille’s heart sank. She couldn’t believe they were talking about her. She stood frozen, her hand still on the stall door.
“Are you talking about me?” Hermione’s voice was sharp and inquisitive.
“Wait, noo,” Susan replied quickly. “You know, we’re talking about dipshit Lucille.”
Hermione joined in the laughter. “That girl... I can’t stand her.”
“Me neither,” Susan said. “Honestly. She’s been mean all those years, and now she wants to be friends.”
“I’m pretty sure even Fred and George don’t tolerate her anymore. And Neville, too. I heard they fought,” Ginny chimed in.
Lucille’s face flushed with a mix of humiliation and hurt. She listened, her breathing growing shallow.
“Nor do we,” Susan continued. “I don’t know what’s happened to her. I think she’s getting angrier because of the Moon Eclipse.”
Ginny laughed. “Yeah, right.”
“Before Ron and Harry made up, Lucille tried to get in between them and make things worse with lies,” Hermione added.
“I wonder if she’s even coming,” Ginny said.
“I guess not. Nobody asked her to the ball. It’d be a pity for her to come all by herself without a partner. It’s not like she has any friends left.”
The girls laughed again, their voices fading as they left the bathroom. Lucille stood in the silence that followed, her heart heavy with the sting of their words. She stared at her reflection, seeing only a pale shadow of the person she had tried so hard to become.
The glamour of her dress and the intricacy of her hair seemed meaningless now. Her carefully chosen outfit, the delicate floral crown, and the excitement of the evening felt like cruel jokes played at her expense. The harsh reality of her loneliness and the coldness of her peers had crystallized in that brief, painful conversation.
Lucille took a deep breath, trying to calm the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. She fought back tears, not wanting to give in to the anger and sadness bubbling within her. With great effort, she managed to steady herself, though the effort left her feeling more exhausted than before.
Lucille stumbled through the throngs of students entering the Great Hall, her elegant dress brushing against her legs as she navigated the crowd. She glanced around frantically, hoping to catch a glimpse of Draco Malfoy, but he was nowhere in sight. A sinking feeling of dread washed over her.
Of course, she thought bitterly, he would never actually show up. Why would he? She had always been the outcast, the one left behind. Her heart pounded, and she could feel her hands and knees shaking uncontrollably. The disappointment and anger, compounded by the cruel words she had overheard, made her stomach churn. She turned abruptly and fled up the stairs, her heels clicking erratically on the steps.
The cold night air seemed to bite through her, and the darkness of the castle only deepened her sense of isolation. The laughter and excitement of the Yule Ball felt miles away, and she felt utterly alone. She had hoped for a chance to belong, even if just for a night, but now it seemed like a distant dream. Her thoughts were a jumble of self-loathing and regret. She should have just gone home, left everything behind. The loneliness she felt now was worse than anything she had imagined.
With every step she took, she felt more overwhelmed. Tears threatened to spill, but she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold them back. The Ravenclaw Tower seemed to stretch endlessly before her. She wanted nothing more than to curl up in her room and shut out the world. But before she could reach the safety of her dorm, she heard voices ahead.
"It's not fair," a grumbling voice complained.
Lucille's heart skipped a beat as she recognized the voices of Draco Malfoy, Gregory Goyle, and Vincent Crabbe. They were standing in front of the bronze knocker, clearly waiting for someone.
"There she is," Draco’s voice cut through the air.
Lucille’s heart sank as she saw Draco, Goyle, and Crabbe waiting, with their dates standing somewhat awkwardly by their sides.
"What are you doing here?" Lucille demanded, her voice trembling.
"Where were you?" Draco raised an eyebrow, a hint of frustration in his voice. "We've been waiting for you for 20 minutes!"
Lucille’s resolve wavered. She was at the end of her emotional rope. "But I—never mind. Bad news. I'm not coming anymore."
"What? What do you mean?" Draco's eyes widened in disbelief.
"I don't feel like going anymore." Lucille crossed her arms defensively. "You're a boy. You may go alone. It’s not like you were exactly eager to go with me anyway."
"I'm not going without a partner," Draco said firmly. "Are you sick or something?"
"No. I don't know. Maybe? Am I?"
"You look perfectly fine." Draco’s frustration seemed to shift to concern. "There’s no way I’m going without a partner because of you. Sick or not, you are coming."
Lucille exhaled a long sigh, feeling the weight of the evening’s events crash down on her. "You’re making me regret hexing Pansy."
Goyle checked his watch impatiently. "Well, we better go. The ball's about to start."
"Have fun then!" Lucille tried to slip past them, but Draco blocked her way.
Malfoy’s expression was resolute. "We made an agreement."
Lucille’s shoulders slumped in resignation. "Fine. Whatever. Let’s go."
"What will your father say when he hears you're going with the 'Werewolf girl' to the ball?" Lucille teased, a hint of bitterness in her voice.
"I think he'd be more offended if I showed up without a partner," Malfoy retorted, his tone laced with sarcasm.
Lucille rolled her eyes but said nothing more as they entered the Great Hall, where the Yule Ball awaited them.
The Great Hall was ablaze with enchantments and fairy lights, casting a magical glow over the assembled students. The walls were draped in rich colors, and the ceiling mirrored the starry night sky. Music filled the air, and students swirled gracefully across the floor.
Lucille, standing by the entrance, took in the scene with a mix of awe and apprehension. She felt the eyes of her fellow students upon her, and though she had prepared herself to face the evening with a brave face, she couldn't help but feel the weight of their scrutiny.
As the waltz began, Lucille spotted Hermione Granger gliding across the floor with Viktor Krum. Hermione was dressed in a stunning gown that accentuated her elegance, a far cry from the harsh words Lucille had overheard. She looked radiant, every bit the enchanting figure she had described, her graceful movements catching the light in just the right way. Lucille couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. She knew it was misplaced, but she envied Hermione’s confidence, her poise, and the fact that Viktor Krum, a Quidditch star and the talk of the school, was her partner.
Her gaze shifted, and she noticed Harry Potter in his striking green suit. It was tailored perfectly to complement his eyes, which seemed to sparkle even more against the deep green of his outfit. Lucille watched him with a mixture of admiration and envy as he danced with Parvati Patil. Parvati’s dress, a shimmering gold that contrasted beautifully with Harry’s suit, made her look like a radiant star. Lucille sighed softly, feeling a pang of longing and envy at the sight of their perfect pairing. She tried to hide her feelings, but Draco Malfoy, standing beside her, seemed to sense her discomfort.
"Potter looks ridiculous in that suit," Draco said, his tone a mix of disdain and jealousy. "And Patil's dress is far too flashy."
Lucille, who had initially been drawn to the elegance of the couple, found herself nodding in agreement. "Yeah, it is a bit much. But they do look... well, perfect together."
Draco smirked. "Jealous?"
"Not really," Lucille said, though her voice lacked conviction. "I mean, it’s just—"
Before she could finish, Ernie Macmillan, a popular Hufflepuff known for his affability, approached her with a warm smile. "Lucille, you look absolutely stunning tonight. May I have the honor of this dance?"
Lucille was taken aback. Ernie’s words were sincere, and despite his partner, Susan Bones, standing nearby, his attention felt like a small beacon of kindness. She hesitated, glancing at Draco, who scowled at the intrusion.
Draco quickly intervened. "Macmillan, she’s with me."
Ernie looked surprised but nodded, retreating with an apologetic smile. Draco, with a surprisingly gentle hand, guided Lucille onto the dance floor. As they began to waltz, Lucille found herself moving fluidly with Draco. The steps were familiar, and despite her initial nerves, she found the rhythm easy to follow.
The waltz was more than just a dance; it felt like a moment of escape from the harsh judgments and whispers she had faced. As Lucille twirled around the floor, she noticed the admiring glances from other students. She was too insecure to realize that they were not mocking her but appreciating her grace and beauty.
Draco’s presence beside her gave her a boost of confidence, and though she still felt the sting of earlier comments, the music and the dance allowed her to momentarily forget her worries. Her dress, now gliding gracefully as she moved, seemed to catch the light in a way that made her look like she was glowing. The sense of being seen, of being noticed for something other than her flaws, was both exhilarating and comforting.
As the waltz came to an end, Lucille felt a strange mixture of relief and elation. Despite the rough start to the evening, she had found a place on the dance floor, a small victory in a night that had seemed so bleak. She glanced over at Draco, who was watching her with a smirk that seemed softer than usual, and allowed herself a small, satisfied smile.
As the waltz ended, the Great Hall transformed into a vibrant, pulsating spectacle. The elegant strains of classical music gave way to the electric rhythms of a rock band, their energetic tunes echoing off the enchanted walls. Students surged towards the stage, their excitement palpable as they embraced the shift in atmosphere.
Lucille, still caught in the afterglow of the dance, watched with a mix of contentment and detachment. The grand hall was bathed in shimmering lights, and she marveled at the way the ambiance changed from sophisticated elegance to boisterous revelry. Even though Draco Malfoy had quickly lost interest and was now absorbed in the throng of students dancing to the new beat, Lucille couldn’t bring herself to be bothered. For once, she felt a sense of liberation, her carefully chosen dress and the elegant arrangement of her hair making her feel more feminine and beautiful than she ever had before.
She scanned the room, spotting Padma at a table near the edge of the dance floor. Padma was alone, her expression a mixture of boredom and frustration. Ron Weasley stood nearby, clearly engrossed in watching Hermione and Viktor Krum on the dance floor, his gaze unwavering.
Lucille, feeling a pang of sympathy for her friend, made her way over. "Hey Padma," she greeted with a warm smile. "Everything alright?"
Padma looked up, her eyes brightening a little at Lucille’s approach. “Lucille, thank goodness! Ron won’t dance with me at all. He’s been watching Hermione and Viktor all night, and it’s driving me mad.”
Lucille’s smile widened sympathetically. “I’m sorry to hear that. Why don’t you grab some drinks? A little cheering up might help.”
Padma sighed, her gaze drifting back to Ron. “That’s a good idea. But I’d feel better if I had some company.”
Just then, a tall Durmstrang student with a charismatic presence caught sight of Padma. His eyes sparkled with admiration as he approached her. “Would you like to dance?” he asked, extending his hand.
Padma’s face lit up with surprise and relief. “Yes, I’d love to!”
As she took his hand and moved towards the dance floor, she looked back at Lucille. “Come on, Lucille! Join us!”
Lucille hesitated, her gaze shifting from Padma’s excited face to the throng of dancing students. She didn’t want to intrude on their moment of enjoyment, nor did she feel quite ready to jump into the lively atmosphere of the rock song. “Thanks, but I think I’ll just watch for now.”
Padma nodded, her eyes grateful. “Alright, if you change your mind, come find us!”
Lucille watched as Padma was whisked away onto the dance floor, her laughter mingling with the music. She couldn’t help but smile, feeling a sense of contentment. The night had turned out to be more enjoyable than she’d anticipated. She found a spot by the edge of the dance floor, where she could still enjoy the energetic vibes without diving headfirst into the chaos.
As the pulsating rhythms of the rock band filled the Great Hall, Lucille found a quiet corner near one of the grand columns, trying to soak in the lively atmosphere while she still felt a bit detached. Her dress, borrowed from Fleur, shimmered under the lights, and she felt a small measure of pride despite the turmoil earlier in the evening.
The hall’s festive mood was suddenly interrupted by a staggering figure approaching her. Igor Karkaroff, visibly intoxicated, wobbled slightly as he made his way towards Lucille. His once-imposing demeanor was now softened by the effects of too much firewhisky.
“Karkaroff?” Lucille was taken aback, recognizing the Durmstrang headmaster. She hoped he wasn’t about to make a scene.
Igor squinted at her, his gaze unsteady but focused. “Ah, I see a familiar face. You’re the one they call Lucille Lupin, yes?” His words slurred slightly, but there was an undeniable curiosity in his eyes.
Lucille nodded cautiously. “Yes, that’s right.”
Karkaroff’s eyes widened in recognition. “You look so much like her, you know. Nina Raduslavov. She was a student here many years ago, in my time, just two years younger than me. I thought I was seeing her for a moment.”
Lucille’s heart skipped a beat. “Nina Raduslavov? What can you tell me about her?”
The headmaster swayed slightly, trying to steady himself as he spoke. “Nina was remarkable. A top student, very skilled in Quidditch. She was quite the talent. But… she never graduated. Her parents, they were travelers, gypsies. They took her away before she finished her education. No one heard from her after that. There were rumors… I heard she died. I’m very sorry.”
Lucille stared at him, her mind racing. “Are you sure about all of this? I mean, you’re quite... drunk.”
Karkaroff nodded slowly, his face solemn despite the inebriation. “I might be drunk, but I’m not mistaken about this. It’s a name I haven’t thought of in years, but seeing you, it’s like a ghost from the past.”
Lucille’s emotions were a tangled mess. She wanted to believe Karkaroff, but the uncertainty of his state and the vague nature of his story made it difficult. “So… you’re saying my mother might have been taken away by her parents before finishing school? And that she’s… dead?”
Karkaroff’s expression softened, a hint of remorse crossing his features. “That’s what I heard, yes. I’m very sorry. I know this must be difficult to hear.”
Lucille felt a rush of conflicting emotions. The possibility that her mother had been taken away from Hogwarts before graduating and the vague rumor of her death was overwhelming. She tried to process the information, but it was hard to reconcile with the little she knew about her own past.
“Thank you for telling me,” she said quietly, trying to mask the turmoil in her voice. “I need to think about this.”
Karkaroff nodded, his expression showing a mix of sympathy and regret. “Of course. If you need anything… I’m here, though perhaps not in the best state.”
With that, he turned and began to stumble away, his head slightly hanging. Lucille watched him go, her mind racing. The revelation, if true, added another layer of complexity to her already tumultuous life. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, and glanced around the Great Hall.
As the vibrant music of the rock band reverberated through the Great Hall, Lucille stood near a marble pillar, her emotions swirling after her unsettling conversation with Karkaroff. She was on the verge of tears, feeling the weight of her mother’s unresolved past heavy on her shoulders.
Just then, Ernie Macmillan, the popular Hufflepuff, approached her once more. His cheerful demeanor was a stark contrast to Lucille’s somber mood. “Hey, Lucille,” he greeted warmly. “Are you okay? You seem a bit off.”
Lucille looked at him, her eyes still a bit moist. “Why do you ask?”
Ernie’s brow furrowed in concern. “I overheard Draco and his Slytherin friends making some rather nasty remarks about Remus. I thought it might be bothering you.”
Lucille’s expression hardened. “Oh. Well, I couldn’t care less what they say.”
Ernie’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Really? I thought—”
“No, we’re not together,” Lucille interjected, seeing Draco from across the room with his usual entourage of Slytherins. “We just share a moment of mutual disdain for Potter, Ron, and Hermione.”
Ernie looked relieved and smiled. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. You seem like you could use a distraction.”
Before Lucille could respond, Ernie gently took her hand and led her towards the dance floor. His confidence was evident, and he carried himself with a certain charm that was both amusing and reassuring. He smelled of an expensive cologne, which was a pleasant contrast to the chaos of the evening.
As they began to waltz, Lucille felt the rhythm of the music and the gentle sway of Ernie’s movements. For the first time that night, she allowed herself to be swept up in the moment. Despite her earlier emotional turmoil, dancing with Ernie felt liberating. His demeanor was upbeat and easygoing, and his presence provided a welcome escape from her swirling thoughts.
Lucille glanced around the dance floor, her gaze briefly meeting Draco’s. He seemed to be caught up in his own revelry, surrounded by his Slytherin peers. Lucille didn’t dwell on him, choosing instead to focus on the present moment with Ernie.
“Thanks for asking me to dance,” Lucille said, her voice soft but sincere.
Ernie grinned, his eyes twinkling with genuine enjoyment. “My pleasure. I figured you could use a bit of fun tonight. And you’re a wonderful dancer.”
Lucille laughed, the sound of her own laughter a small but welcome relief. “You’re not so bad yourself. I never thought I’d end up dancing tonight.”
As they moved together, Lucille found herself feeling more at ease. The music was lively, and Ernie’s company was pleasant and refreshing. Though her thoughts occasionally drifted back to her mother and the conversations she had overheard, she managed to push those concerns aside, if only for a while.
With each step and turn, Lucille felt her spirits lifting, if only slightly. The Yule Ball, with all its glitter and glamour, seemed a little less daunting, and for a moment, she was able to enjoy the evening, surrounded by people who were, despite everything, kind and genuine.
Lost in her thoughts, Lucille barely noticed Harry Potter approaching until he grabbed her arm, his grip firm. He pulled her away from the crowd and into a quieter hallway just off the Great Hall. The contrast between the vibrant party and the dimly lit corridor was stark, and Lucille felt a rush of confusion and irritation.
“What the bloody hell are you doing?” Harry demanded, his voice a mix of frustration and hurt.
Lucille blinked, trying to steady her racing heart. “What are you talking about?” she replied, her tone defensive.
“You, coming to the ball with Draco Malfoy,” Harry said, his expression a mixture of anger and disappointment. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were doing it just to spite us.”
Lucille arched an eyebrow, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Is that so? Are you jealous, Potter?”
Harry’s eyes flashed. “It’s not about jealousy. It’s about principle. Malfoy’s the one who made those ‘Potter Stinks’ badges. He’s made it clear where he stands.”
Lucille crossed her arms, her patience thinning. “We aren’t friends, Potter. We never were. I was nice to you because my dad told me to be. I genuinely tried to be on your side, but then Hermione goes off saying that I tried to come between you and Ron. Seriously?”
Harry’s face reddened with indignation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re so two-faced, I’m surprised someone like you has a brilliant father like Remus. You don’t deserve him.”
The words hit Lucille like a physical blow. She was momentarily stunned, but anger quickly replaced her shock. “How dare you! Perhaps you deserve what happened to your parents!”
Harry’s face went pale, and his eyes widened in pain. The words cut deeply, and Lucille saw the hurt flicker in his gaze. She immediately regretted her outburst, her heart sinking at the sight of his expression.
Before she could offer an apology, Hermione Granger stormed up to them, her face flushed with irritation. “What are you doing, Lupin? Are you trying to ruin our night?”
Lucille’s mind raced, recalling the cruel things Hermione had said earlier in the bathroom. Anger flared again, and she responded with a sneer, “Why don’t you shut your gob, Granger?”
Hermione’s eyes widened in shock, and her mouth fell open, but Lucille didn’t wait for a response. She turned on her heel and stormed away, her heels clicking angrily against the stone floor.