Even at Our Worst

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December 20th, 1996

"Does this read as, 'I'm being forced to go to this event and absolutely, in no way, see this as a date'?" I look between Pansy and Daphne, smoothing down the simple green dress I have on.

Daphne tilts her head with a shrug while Pansy gives an encouraging nod. "I'm sure it will be fine, Vi. It's been over a year since anything happened between you and Zabini." Surprisingly, Pansy has always been quite the optimist.

I grumble, pulling back the top half of my hair and tying it up as I shout through the common room, "Trace, what are you wearing?"

Tracey emerges from her room a moment later, wearing a bright orange and yellow dress with a straight neckline and a-line skirt. She twirls a curl around her finger, arranging them carefully around her head. "Do you think it's alright?" She says nervously, pulling down the hem of her dress only to pull back up the bodice.

"Alright?" I scoff, gesturing my hands over her body. "You look fantastic!"

Daphne nods smugly from her seat on the couch. "Nott's going to drop dead."

Tracey smiles brightly, her eyes wide with excitement as they meet mine. "I can't believe it's finally happening." She breathes out, her cheeks flushing.

We quickly devolve into a fit of giggles, Tracey going on and on about how Theo asked her– how nervous he seemed. Her smile grows with each anecdote, and I feel a bittersweet sense of yearning. Jealousy festers in my bones, my mind wandering to how Draco was punished for his Father's failure, forced to complete these tasks for You-Know-Who with no reprieve, no assistance. While Theo is by no means in a good situation, his life is largely unchanged here at Hogwarts. In fact, his Father's arrest has given him a new lease on life– the vigor to finally ask out Tracey after all of these years.

Meanwhile, I'm pretending the boy I'm hopelessly in love with is nothing more than a casual fling. I'm ignoring the fact that I could lose him at any moment, which he seems fairly convinced of.

I keep a small smile on my face, congratulating Tracey until the clock is about to strike seven, leaving us plenty of time to chat and head up to the party at eight, and we head downstairs to meet Blaise and Theo.

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I stare at Hermione across the room, watching her look horribly uncomfortable speaking with Cormac McLaggen. I swirl the ice around in my drink, narrowing my eyes in their direction. My eyes shift to their left, where Theo and Tracey are sitting. He's clearly enamored by her, leaning his chin on his palm as he listens to her speak animatedly about something, her hands gesturing wildly. A soft smile sits on his lips, amused by her enthusiasm.

Blaise is standing at my side, a respectable distance away. I can feel him watching me watch everyone, sending a spidery feeling up my spine. I look over my shoulder at him and raise a brow, making him instantly turn to look ahead again, clearing his throat. "How're you and Malfoy?" He says casually, scratching at his neck.

"Fine," I shrug, looking back at Hermione curiously as she takes a step away from McLaggen when he reaches for her waist.

"That's good," Blaise nods absently, taking a sip of his drink. I watch McLaggen advance again, Hermione now holding up her hand in protest. I shush Blaise's next statement, excusing myself, and beginning to walk across to Hermione, planning to extract her from whatever madness she's clearly wrapped up in. I'm interrupted by the room quieting, heads all turning to the entrance as sounds of struggle emerge.

I turn over my shoulder, shock washing over me as Filch pulls Draco into the room, his fist holding the back of his collar. Draco attempts to shrug him off, biting out that he's a Prefect and has every right to be in the halls.