𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒐?

The dress was indeed magnificent, a shimmering golden confection that clung to his form like a second skin. The Weasleys had always had a knack for surprising him, but this was on a whole other level. It was as if Mrs. Weasley had woven pure sunlight into the fabric. Every time he moved, the dress seemed to catch the light and throw it back out, painting the room in a warm glow.

But the thought of facing the other students at the ball, dressed in something so ostentatious, made his stomach churn. He was used to being the centre of attention, but not like this. Not when it was something so out of his control. He had always prided himself on his impeccable taste and his ability to blend in with the elite of Hogwarts. And now, thanks to the twins and their latest deal,.

The night of the Yule Ball arrived with a flurry of snowflakes that danced around the castle's windows. Draco took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. He slipped on the matching golden heels that had been delivered with the dress, feeling the weight of the room's gaze even though it was empty. He knew that when he stepped into the Great Hall, all eyes would be on him. The whispers would start, and the sniggers would follow. But he had to play along for the sake of keeping peace with the Weasleys.

As he descended the grand staircase, his heart racing like a hippogriff in flight, he spotted the twins lurking in the shadows. A sly grin spread across their faces as they caught sight of him. Draco felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment. He was their latest masterpiece, their golden goose. And he had no doubt they'd wring every last drop of entertainment from the situation.

The ballroom doors swung open, and the sound of music and laughter washed over him. He took a step forward, his heels clicking against the cold stone floor. The warm light from the chandeliers above bounced off the golden threads of his dress, casting a dazzling light show around him.

Fred and George emerged from the crowd, their own outfits perfectly coordinated with his. They were dressed as knights in shining armour, with golden wigs and exaggerated moustaches that made them look like caricatures of Gryffindor heroes. The sight was so ludicrous that even Draco couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Ready for your royal entrance?" George asked, his voice thick with amusement.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Let's get this over with," he muttered, linking arms with the twins.

They strolled into the ballroom, a trio of gold, and the room fell silent. The whispers started, just as he'd predicted, but then something strange happened. The other students didn't laugh. They stared, yes, but it was with a mix of awe and confusion. And as the music swelled and Draco felt the fabric of the dress flutter around him, he realised that maybe, just maybe, he didn't look so out of place after all.

The twins led him to the dance floor, and before he knew it, they were twirling him around in a lively waltz. His movements were awkward at first, and the heels were not quite as easy to manoeuvre as his usual footwear. But as the music grew more familiar and the rhythm seeped into his bones, he began to relax. He even started to enjoy himself.

The other students started to join in with their own outfits, a riot of colours and fabrics. Some were elegant, others whimsical, but none quite matched the grandeur of their little trio. And yet, as Draco looked around, he realised that the differences between them were what made the night special. It was a celebration of individuality, of letting their true selves shine through.

As the hours passed, Draco found himself dancing with people he'd never spoken to before. Girls from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw complimented his dress, and even some of the Slytherins shot him envious glances. He'd never felt so accepted. It was a strange and exhilarating sensation, one he hadn't expected from this ridiculous situation.

But the most surprising part of the evening was when Hermione Granger approached him. She looked breathtaking in a simple but elegant dress that brought out the warmth in her eyes. She held out her hand, a tentative smile playing on her lips. "Would you like to dance?" she asked. Draco's heart skipped a beat. He'd never seen her look so friendly. He took her hand, and as they moved to the music, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Perhaps, just for tonight, he could be someone different. Someone who didn't have to live up to the Malfoy name or the Slytherin stereotype. Someone who could just be Draco, the boy in the golden dress.

They danced for what felt like hours, the world outside the ballroom fading away. It was just the two of them, twirling and laughing, lost in the magic of the moment. He saw a side of her he'd never seen before—carefree and light, not the intense, studious witch he was used to. And she saw a side of him that was equally unfamiliar: happy, relaxed, and even a little bit charming.

But then Fred came and tapped Hermione on the shoulder, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Mind if I cut in?" he asked, his grin widening as she stepped back, allowing him to take Draco's hand. Draco felt a pang of disappointment, but he couldn't help but appreciate the twin's timing. It was a gentle reminder of the world outside their little bubble.

The music changed to something faster and more playful, and Fred spun Draco around in a dizzying series of steps that left him breathless. The twin's energy was infectious, and soon Draco was laughing as they danced, the golden heels no longer a hindrance but an extension of his own grace. It was a dance of friendship, of shared secrets, and of silent promises.

As the song ended, the three of them stepped out of the spotlight, panting and smiling. Hermione's cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled with amusement. "Thank you," she said, curtsying slightly to Fred before turning to Draco. "You're not so bad at this, after all."

Draco offered a small, genuine smile in return. "Thanks to you," he murmured, and for a brief moment, their gazes held. It was a look that spoke volumes—of understanding, of a connection that transcended the boundaries of their houses.

But the moment was fleeting. The ball was still in full swing, and there were more dances to be had. More opportunities to be the centre of attention and to play the part he'd been thrust into. He looked back at the twins, who were already plotting their next move, and took a deep breath. He could do this. For tonight, he would be the boy in the golden dress, and he would wear it with pride.

The rest of the evening was a blur of colour and sound. Draco danced with girls from every house, each one more beautiful than the last. He laughed and joked, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like he belonged. The dress, the heels, the whole ridiculous ensemble—it was all part of the charm. It was as if the gold had woven a spell around him, making him untouchable and invincible.

And when the final notes of the last song played out and the students began to filter out of the ballroom, Draco found himself standing with the twins, looking back at the night that had been. It was a night that had started with fear and embarrassment but had ended in a way he never could have predicted.

"You know," Fred said, slapping him on the back, "you clean up pretty well for a Slytherin."

Draco rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face was real. "Thanks," he said, and for once, he meant it.

They made their way back to the Gryffindor common room and somehow sneaked Draco inside; the cold night air was a stark contrast to the warmth of the ballroom. As they climbed the stairs, George leaned in and whispered, "You know, Draco, I think you might have had the best time out of all of us."

Draco couldn't help but laugh. Maybe, just maybe, they were right.

"Now that we are here, let's speak on our plan!." George said he was excited, and Draco smiled brightly for some reason. After everything happened between him and the twins, he felt lighter; maybe he'll enjoy his time with them.

Fred leaned in, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You see, Draco, we've always had a dream," he began, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "We dream of opening our very own store in Diagon Alley. A place where we can sell all our unique creations."

"But not just any store," George interjected, his enthusiasm bubbling over. "A store that's more than just a shop. It'll be an experience. A place where the magic doesn't just happen in the products, but in the very walls themselves."

The twins went on to describe a place where the floorboards creaked with secrets and the shelves groaned under the weight of their latest inventions. A place where customers could try on a hat that whispered jokes or wield a wand that turned their opponents' spells into showers of glitter. Draco found himself getting caught up in their vision, his mind racing with the possibilities.

"And what would I be doing at this store?" Draco asked, scepticism lacing his voice.

Fred grinned. "Why, you'd be our poster boy, of course!" he exclaimed. "The face of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Think about it: you, dressed in the latest Quidditch gear, showing off our Golden Snitches that actually fly away from you when you try to catch them. You'd be a sensation!"

Draco couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. "And what's in it for me?"

"Ah, well," George began, his eyes glinting, "we were thinking of a small partnership, perhaps. A share in the profits, a say in the products, and the occasional free joke or two."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure if that's a good deal or a prank waiting to happen."

The twins looked at each other and shrugged in unison. "Well, it's your call," Fred said. "But think about it. You'd be part of something big—something that's not just about blood or status. It's about creativity, fun, and making people laugh."

Draco was silent for a moment, considering their offer. It was tempting—the idea of stepping out of his father's shadow and into a world where he could be valued for something other than his name. "I'll think about it," he said finally, and the twins' smiles grew even wider.

As they parted ways for the night, Draco couldn't shake the feeling that this Yule Ball had been a turning point. A night that had started with humiliation had ended with a glimmer of something new—a hint of friendship and the promise of adventure.

And as he lay in bed, the golden dress laid out on the chair like a discarded crown, he allowed himself to imagine a future where he didn't have to be the perfect Malfoy. A future where he could be the boy in the golden dress, bringing joy to the wizarding world, one prank at a time. It was a future that seemed just within his grasp, if he was brave enough to reach for it.

The twins had given him a taste of something he hadn't even known he craved—the freedom to be himself. And as he drifted off to sleep, he wondered if he could ever truly escape the confines of his own making. Or if, perhaps, this was the start of a whole new chapter in his life. A chapter where he didn't have to hide in the shadows but could stand tall, in heels or not, and shine like the star he'd always wanted to be.