Familiar Eyes, Unfamiliar Stage

Olivia Middleton's POV 

I spend the entire day holed up in my dorm. I skip lunch. Then dinner. I ignore the gnawing hunger and the ache in my stomach, because it doesn't compare to the one in my chest. It takes both Hermione's and Ginny's relentless nagging to finally drag me out for some air.

Before I can step out of the common room, I make a decision.

Harry's sitting by the fireplace, his face bathed in the glow. The room's mostly empty—thank Merlin. I walk over and sit on the floor beside him, close enough to feel the warmth of the flames.

He looks at me and smiles. I smile back, but it doesn't reach my eyes.

I let out a long sigh. "Harry, you're my best friend, and you know how much I hate turning people down. But everyone's talking about me. Saying I'm a... a slut." Harry's smile drops. "Which you're not, Liv." His voice is calm but firm. "And honestly? It's okay if you say no to me. I was a coward for not asking you sooner. But—is it true? Four guys? Including Malfoy?"

I nod slowly.

He gives me a soft, understanding look. "Thank you for being honest with me."

"Thank you, Harry. For not making this harder." He nods, then leans back against the couch. "Go take your walk. Clear your head." I stand. "One boy down," I mutter under my breath as I head toward the portrait hole, "two more to go."

I don't even make it to the courtyard before I change course. Cedric and Draco—I'm closer to them than I ever was to Rafael. I owe it to him to be honest, but... I don't need to do it in the middle of the castle. So I turn and head for Ravenclaw Tower.

As luck would have it, Luna's outside, searching for her shoes like always. "Hey, Luna," I say softly. "Hey, Liv," she says in that dreamy voice, twirling once before looking back down. "Erm... is Rafael in? I wanted to talk to him."

"I think so. Want me to bring him out? Or do you want to come in?" She tilts her head and looks at the door.

Do not go in, Olivia. Cho will be in there. No need for another face-off.

"Could you bring him out?" I ask, forcing a smile. Luna beams and skips off. A few minutes later, Rafael steps out of the tower, grinning like he always does. I smile back—because how can I not? That smile is lethal.

"Hey, Liv," he says, pulling me into a hug. "Hey," I mumble into his shoulder. I pull back. "We need to talk."

"Uh-oh," he says, his grin fading. "You might've heard some of the things people are calling me..."

"Liv, don't listen to them," he says, placing both hands on my shoulders. "They're just jealous. You got asked by four guys—of course they're going to talk."

"Yeah, well... it kind of forced me to make a decision faster." I swallow. Hard. "I'm closer to Ced than I am to you. And Draco too—"

"Yeah, I heard about your little dance." My head snaps up. "You did?" He nods slowly. Then, he asks, "Why are you closer to them?" My breath catches. "Something happened over the summer. To me. And... Draco was there. I don't want to talk about it now."

He doesn't push. He just waits.

I breathe in. "Rafael, I can't go to the Ball with you. But I think someone else would love to."

Right on cue, Luna returns, shoes in hand, smiling like a sunbeam.

I nod toward her. Rafael turns and sees her smile. "I'm sorry," I say. "I really hope you're not mad." He shakes his head, smiling again. "Hey, hey, no explanation needed. You said you'd think about it—and I'm glad you gave me a chance. I'm not mad, Liv."

I can't help myself. I throw my arms around him. "You're an angel."

"Erm, Liv," he says with a laugh, arms wrapping around my waist, "you do know you're talking to me, not a mirror?" I laugh into his shoulder.

Two boys down. One more to go.

I'm pacing in a quiet corner of the courtyard, just before curfew, when most students have cleared out. The air is cool and the silence gives me too much space to think. Who do I say no to?

Cedric and I... we're close. Really close. If he'd confessed what he feels, we might've been something already. But then there's Draco. He saved me from the intruder. If he hadn't—Merlin, I don't even want to think about what could've happened.

I stop to catch my breath when suddenly—arms wrap around my waist and a hand covers my mouth. I freeze, heart pounding, until my senses catch up and I recognize the scent. I don't struggle.

Draco.

He pulls me all the way down to the dungeons, through the common room, and into his personal dorm. He doesn't say a word. Doesn't stop walking. Just keeps going—until we're in his bedroom. Only then does he let go. I exhale shakily.

His room is... way too clean for a boy. King-sized bed, dark green walls, silk sheets, a bloody chandelier, personal library, and of course—his own en-suite. I'd kill for a private loo right now.

He sits on the bed, calm—too calm for Draco, which somehow makes him even scarier. He pats the space beside him, and I sit down with a sigh, letting my back fall against the mattress. It's soft. Strangely comforting. Like he is.

"It is true?" he asks, watching me carefully. "That depends on what you're asking," I murmur, eyes on the ceiling. He shifts closer. "What is it?" I sit up and look at him. "People have been calling me a-a s-slut. Because four guys asked me." He shoots to his feet. "WHAT?"

I yank his arm and make him sit back down. The last thing I need is a Slytherin meltdown. "Who started it?" he demands. I lie. "I don't know." Of course I know. Pansy. But if I'm going to reject Draco, he needs to have a backup. If he ends up dateless, the whole school will expect me to go with him, since technically, he asked first.

He exhales hard. "So. What did you decide?"

"I said no to Harry. And Rafael." That makes him smile. "So it's down to me and Diggory, huh?" he asks. I shake my head slowly. "When you dragged me out of the courtyard... I'd already made up my mind."

"Draco," I start, voice gentle, "if I go with you, people won't shut up. You've got a reputation to maintain. And when they find out you're going with a 'mudblood'—"

"You're not a Muggleborn, Olivia," he interrupts quietly, his hand resting on my thigh. I sigh at the touch. It's warm. Reassuring. "I know. You know. But they don't. Just... go with Parkinson. I'm sure she's desperate for you to ask." He chuckles. "Alright."

I blink at him. "Wait. That's it? You agree? No storming? No sarcastic tantrum?" He smirks. "What, you thought I'd let you off that easy, darling?"

Ah. There it is.

"Go on," I say, standing and drifting toward his bookshelf. "You owe me three things," he calls, following me. "First: a dance. Waltz and slow." I nod. "Fair enough."

"Second: a picture with you." I turn and narrow my eyes. "What?"

"I'd bet anything you'll be the prettiest girl there. Without a doubt." A small smile tugs at my lips. "Third?"

"Third—non-negotiable—you have to audition for the choir lead." I groan. "No, Draco. I told you I'm not ready." He raises an eyebrow. "Non-negotiable. Accept it or come to the ball with me."

Merlin, he's impossible.

"Fine!" I throw my hands up. "I'll audition." He hands me a book. "I think you'll like this."

"Thanks, Draco," I mutter, taking it from him. He just nods and heads back to the bed.

Before I leave, I walk over, lean down, and press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you. For being... surprisingly considerate. And for using this whole thing to blackmail me, but still—thanks. Oh, and don't forget we have to make Skele-Gro for Snape."

"I'll let you know, Middleton," he murmurs.

Middleton. The good-old Draco is back.

I slip out of his dorm and tiptoe quietly down the stairs when a voice calls behind me. "Liv?" I turn and grin. "Chris!" His eyes flick from me to the door I just came out of. "What were you doing in Draco's room at this time of night?" I sigh. "Alright, I'll tell you everything."

And I do—I tell him about the boys. And who I've chosen.

The next morning, we're sitting at breakfast when I spot Cedric leaving the Great Hall with his friends. Without thinking, I stand up, mutter a quick "Excuse me," and dart after him. "Cedric!" I call, breathless, and he turns around with that smile that makes my knees weak.

"You lot go on ahead," he tells his friends. They nod and head off, leaving us alone in the corridor. Merlin, I need to get back to yoga or something—I'm winded. "Hey, gorgeous," he says as he pulls me into a hug.

"Hello, handsome," I reply, grinning against his chest. "So... what's the rush? You practically sprinted out here." I rest my hand on his chest, steadying my breath. "I wanted to tell you something." His face falls a little. "Oh. I heard you turned down Harry and Rafael... You're here to tell me you're going with Malfoy, aren't you? Liv, why him? I—"

"Blimey, Cedric, stop talking!" I interrupt, laughing. "No, I'm not going with Malfoy. I said no to him." He blinks, stunned. "Wait... what?" "I said no to Malfoy. And yes to you." He stares for a moment, then suddenly sweeps me off my feet and spins me around. I squeal and cling to his shoulders.

"Oh, Liv! You've made me so happy. I thought for sure you'd reject me." He kisses me—soft, careful—and then sets me down, cheeks flushed. "Erm, sorry. I didn't mean to—well, I don't know why I—"

"Ced, it's okay. You don't have to explain," I say gently. I rise on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. "Right, I've got to get back to the Great Hall. Assignment with Snape—I really don't want to be late for that."

He chuckles. "Right. I'll see you outside your dorm?"

"Eight o'clock?" His smile stretches wide. "Perfect."

I slip back into the Great Hall just as Ron groans, "This is mad. At this rate, we'll be the only ones in our year without dates." Snape's head twitches toward us like a hawk and buries himself in a book. "Well, us and Neville," Ron adds.

"Yeah, but he can take himself," Harry says dryly. I giggle, and Ron chuckles too. "Actually," Hermione leans in and whispers, "Neville already asked someone." Ron groans again. "Now I'm really depressed." George, across the table, slides Ron a note: Get a move on or the good ones will have gone.

"Who're you going with?" Ron mutters, passing it back. "Watch," George whispers and chucks a paper ball at Angelina. "What?" she whisper-yells. George mimics dance steps, eyebrows raised. "To the ball?" she asks. He nods. "Yeah, alright," she says with a thumbs up. George smirks and winks at Ron.

Ron turns to Hermione. "Oi, Hermione. You're a girl—" I lean toward Harry and whisper, "Not a good start, Ronald."

"Well spotted," Hermione replies, raising an eyebrow as Snape walks closer. "Come with one of us?" Ron finishes just as Snape slams a book down between him and Harry. I snort behind my hand. Once Snape stalks off, Ron says, "Come on. It's one thing for a bloke to show up alone. For a girl, it's just sad."

"Oh, come on, Weaselbee. You don't think someone asked this mudblood, do you?" Malfoy sneers behind us. His goons laugh like brainless trolls. Harry, Ron, and I all spin around, ready to start something, but Hermione beats us to it.

"Hello, Professor Moody!" she calls cheerily and waves. Malfoy flinches and whips around—only to find no one behind him. Moody's just sitting at the teacher's table, looking vaguely amused. "Twitchy little ferret, aren't you?" Hermione smirks. I cackle with Fred and George.

"I won't be going alone," Hermione says tightly. "Because, believe it or not, someone has asked me." She hands her parchment to Snape, then returns, holding her chin high. "And I said yes." She grabs her books and leaves without another word. "Bloody hell. She's lying, right?" Ron mutters, turning to me.

I shake my head. "Nope. Someone asked her."

I glance back toward Snape—right as he catches my eye and raises a finger to his lips. He lifts his sleeves slightly, then shoves both Harry and Ron's heads into their book with a thud. They groan. I laugh.

I slow my writing so I can finish alongside the boys—we're heading back to the common room together. Finally, they wrap up, and I stretch. "Let's go." As we walk through the corridor, I spot Cho coming down the hall. "Wait here," I whisper to Ron and grab Harry's arm. "Cho!"

She turns around and smiles when she sees us. "Harry's got something to ask you," I say, nudging him forward. "Er—yeah," Harry mumbles, scratching the back of his neck. "Would you go to the ball with me?"

"Yes!" she squeals. I grin and exhale. Thank Merlin. "Alright, see you then," Harry says awkwardly. Before we turn, Cho looks at me. "Olivia, I'm sorry for..."

"It's okay, Cho. Don't sweat it." I smile and walk away with Harry.

That night in the common room, Harry's holding his egg and frowning. "You still haven't figured out the clue?" I ask. He shakes his head. "It's okay," Ginny says, walking in holding Ron's arm like he's made of glass. "It doesn't matter."

"What happened to you?" Harry asks. "He just asked Fleur Delacour out," Ginny replies. Ron slumps into a chair. "What?" Hermione gasps, kneeling beside him. "What did she say?"

"She said yes?" I whisper, stunned. Ron shakes his head. "Don't be silly. She was just... walking by. And you know how I like it when they walk." He glances at Harry. I roll my eyes. "I couldn't help it. It sort of slipped out."

"Actually, he sort of screamed at her. It was a bit frightening," Ginny adds. I bite my lip to keep from laughing. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Liv," Ron grumbles. "You helped Harry find a date—even Rafael and Malfoy! Why can't you do that for me?"

I sigh. "Fine. But you have to ask her. I'll just... build you up, alright?" He nods like I've just handed him a lifeline.

The next day, I walk with Ron to Padma. He asks her, and—miraculously—she says yes. That evening, Hermione, Ginny, and I go to Hogsmeade for dress shopping. I already bought mine from the Muggle world—knew about the Yule Ball ages ago. I've charmed it, of course. Everyone's going to lose it when they see what it does.

Hermione and Ginny find their dresses, and afterward, we duck into the Three Broomsticks for butterbeer. It's snowing hard outside, so we peel off coats and sit by the window. "What are you wearing, Liv?" Hermione asks, curious. I smirk. "It's a surprise. Let's start getting ready by five, yeah? We'll need time for hair and makeup."

They nod in agreement. "Erm... Mione?" I start, sipping my butterbeer. "Yes?" she sets her mug down. "Can you meet me tomorrow? In the music room, after lunch?" She tilts her head. "Of course. But why?"

"You'll see." I smile. "Ginny, you can come too—if you want."

"Good," she says, mock-hurt. "I was about to ask if you'd forgotten me."

We laugh, finish our drinks, and head back to the castle, the snow swirling behind us as we spend the rest of the evening in the courtyard.

The next day, right after lunch, I practically drag Hermione and Ginny to the auditorium for my audition. I'm the last one on the list, which means the crowd has thinned out—but not by much. There are still enough people left to make my stomach twist. And worst of all, they all know me. Not the real me—just the name, the headlines, the roles I've played. None of them have ever heard me sing for me.

My heels echo softly against the wooden stage as I walk up and sit at the piano. My hands hover above the keys, and just then, the doors creak open. I look up and see him—Draco Malfoy. He nods at me once. Calm. Steady. Familiar. I let out the breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. One person. One person here who's heard me like this before.

I close my eyes, press my fingers to the ivory, and begin to play. "I'm trying to hold my breath... Let it stay this way... Can't let this moment end..." My voice is soft at first, trembling like my hands. But I steady myself with the rhythm, breathing in through my nose.

"You set off a dream in me... Getting louder now... Can you hear it echoing?" I open my eyes as I play, searching the room. Not for approval—but for feeling. Do they feel it? "Take my hand... Will you share this with me? 'Cause darling, without you..." I lift my gaze toward the dusty ceiling, letting the high note drift and ring out like a wish.

"All the shine of a thousand spotlights... All the stars we steal from the night sky... Will never be enough... Never be enough..." My voice swells now. It's no longer soft—it's full. Raw. Honest. "Towers of gold are still too little... These hands could hold the world..." I look down at them as I sing—my hands on the keys. Fragile. Capable. Still not enough.

The words ache as they leave me. I feel every one of them. I sit taller. I throw my voice to the farthest corners of the auditorium. When I hit the final note, it hangs in the air like a held breath. And then—Applause.I blink, startled. They're all on their feet. Even the ones I thought wouldn't care. Professor Flitwick rushes to the stage, levitates himself with a charm, and places both tiny hands on my shoulders.

"Where have you been, my child?" he says, eyes shining.I can't help but smile. He turns to the audience, throws his arms wide, and announces, "I have found the new lead!"

I look past him—straight to Draco. He's still clapping. When I meet his eyes, he lifts both hands higher and whistles, loud and proud. I laugh, breathless with relief and joy. Hermione and Ginny rush up to me before I can even step down. They pull me into a fierce hug.

"You were absolutely amazing, Liv," Hermione says, her voice thick with emotion. "Words would be empty to praise your voice."

"Thank you, guys. Really. It means so much that you came," I whisper, overwhelmed. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Draco lingering by the door. Waiting. "Excuse me," I say, slipping out of their embrace and heading toward him.

He smirks. "Well done, Middleton. Let me repeat myself from about a year ago—that was beyond angelic." I grin. "Thank you, Malfoy. That's one of your three wishes done. See you at the ball."

I turn and walk away, heart still soaring from the song, the stage, and the look he gave me like maybe—just maybe—I was finally enough.