• Camille Malfoy •

„I lost my mind
trying to understand yours."

Camille had imagined Elijah Hall, the heir to one of the most prestigious pure-blood families from all over Europe, differently. She couldn't say exactly how, but seeing him now in flesh and blood and even dancing with him felt surreal. As if it were happening in a long-forgotten dream.

She had heard many things about him, speculations as well as facts. He was taught privately, by the best professors in Britain, if not the world. The fact that he would one day follow in the big footsteps of his father, a bigwig in the ministry, made him a desirable match. Possibly one of the most coveted in the British wizarding world. He was like a mysterious prince and every girl was known to want to be a princess. Even those who had magical blood in them.

"Tell me, Elijah Hall, how do I get this honour?" she asked in the middle of the waltz they were performing on the dance floor. They were flying across the floor and even though Camille had been dancing since she was a little girl, she had never felt so light on her feet. As if all the weight of the complicated dance steps was sluggish on her partner.

"Well, without you, I guess I would have missed the ceremony and been lost wandering around your beautiful estate," he replied, his icy blue eyes flashing mischievously as his expensive ceremonial cloak wafted around both of their feet. Camille had to laugh brightly. "I'm sure your home is no less impressive than ours."

"I think you'd have to see for yourself," he replied, cleverly wrapping an unspoken invitation in his words. Embarrassed, the blonde merely dismissed it with a smile.

While the other guests whizzed past them as if in a time warp, Camille unobtrusively kept an eye out for Regulus. The expression with which he had looked at her made her heart bleed and she regretted reaching for Elijah's hand. But it was only a dance and it would have been rude to refuse. Especially with someone like a Hall. Her father might have stoned her if she had refused. You never knew what opportunity lay behind, as he was always suggesting to her.

"What's it like?" the dark blond finally put in, with an emphasis of curiosity in his voice. "Hogwarts I mean."

Camille thought she could detect longing hidden behind his rising interest. But as fleeting as that moment had been, just as quickly she thought she had been mistaken. "It is by far the most impressive place I have ever set eyes on," she finally replied with a smile.

"For sure it merely distracts you from learning," he returned thoughtfully. "And the most important things are not taught at all."

The Slytherin didn't need an exact cue to know exactly what he was talking about. The dark arts. They were highly valued in her family too, even when they weren't talked about at the dinner table. She knew that Lucius had also been taught by their father. She herself had never been interested in learning them, which did not mean she was completely ignorant of them. But it was the execution that sent a shiver down her spine every time. She was not comfortable with it. Dark magic could do things to a soul, worse than a dementor could ever do.

The magnificent chandelier made her blonde hair shine, as did that of her counterpart. Certainly they made an odd couple, Camille felt abruptly, for with their fair hair and blue eyes they looked more alike than many a brother and sister. But while Elijah acted charming and accommodating, he undoubtedly kept her at a distance. Not just in their dancing posture.

His expression was closed, although an open smile played around the corners of his mouth. The grand piano struck up its last notes before the song ended. Polite applause for the first dance of the evening filled the hall and Camille gave her dance partner an apologetic smile before she went in search of Regulus.

She pushed her way through the dancing couples as the next song was softly intoned and searched the expressionless faces with her turquoise eyes. Such an event had long since ceased to be anything special, which is why most of them only survived thanks to several glasses of elf-made wine.

Camille paused in her movement when she found the wanted boy with his father a little way off. Her hushed tone and serious expression told her that she had better not interrupt, instead she regarded her school friend thoughtfully. His black hair was neatly slicked back, but some strands had already come loose and fell into his pale face. But then his head lifted and his storm-grey eyes lit up when he spotted her smile.

Suddenly a hand closed around her wrist and took her out of her pink bubble that held only her and Regulus. Again her hand was held out invitingly, this time by her brother. "Will you give me my second dance, dear sister?"

"I would be honoured," Camille replied coquettishly, indicating a theatrical curtsy before accepting Lucius' invitation. He led her into the midst of the dancing guests, away from Regulus, and began to twirl her around. Less light-footed than Elijah, but no less graceful.

"We were born with much, Camille," he put in suddenly, a serious expression entering his grey eyes. "Pure blood, money, a promising marriage and a name that opens doors for us. Please don't close them."

Camille swallowed. "I don't know what you're trying to tell me, Lucius."

"What I'm saying is that love comes and goes. Don't give it away to the first person you meet, not to someone who can't offer you a good future," the blond advised her, still with complete seriousness in his expression, which should have no place at a wedding.

"Can such a future give me happiness, then?" she asked straightforwardly, looking back no less seriously. She did not like the direction the conversation was taking. Certainly he had noticed the looks she and Regulus had exchanged earlier. But he was wrong, as so many were, and Regulus would show them all. With her at his side.

"If you let it," Lucius said quietly, but with such emphasis that his sister understood him without difficulty. She nodded curtly and broke away from him as the song of the piano continued relentlessly. But that did not interest her at this point. "Excuse me, but I don't feel like dancing right now."

Without waiting for an answer on the Malfoy heir's face, she had already turned away and was looking forlornly around the ballroom of her estate. This had never been full of so many witches and wizards and yet she had rarely felt so lonely. As if shivering in the breeze of the swirling guests, she wrapped her arms around her body, goosebumps forming on them. Unaware that the cold had come from within.

Her eyes finally lingered on a family she knew and she almost breathed a sigh of relief. Lorraine was standing with Alaric by her parents. They were all holding a glass of wine and chatting with an elderly couple. There was nothing wrong with either twin's posture, while the corners of their mouths moved upwards in all the right places. Just as they had been taught.

Only Camille suspected what was going on inside her friend right now. Maybe she was thinking about Garreth and maybe that would never change. Slowly she began to understand her and she felt ashamed of the way she had tried to talk her out of her feelings. She should turn her back on her family if they didn't accept it.

The Slytherin was frightened by her own thoughts. Would she ever be able to go that far herself? At that moment, Lorraine's blue eyes wandered to her. A smile flitted across her pink lips, which, unlike the previous ones, was meant from the heart. Camille returned the gesture hesitantly, her heart tightening at the thought when she saw what she was wearing around her neck. Dawson's necklace.

Her throat went dry. What had she been thinking when she set this creep on her best friend? She had meant well at the time, but she hadn't understood it then. She had not experienced it first hand. She began to look around the room when she found what she was looking for.

With quick steps she crossed the room, headed straight for Dawson Mulciber and had already opened her mouth when he beat her to it. "Our deal is off."

"What?" stammered Camille in bewilderment, not yet realising the words that had come out of his mouth and not hers. She had been thinking of exactly the same thing.

"I was going to go through with it, but when I found out Lorraine had already shared her spit with that blood traitor Greengrass, I felt sick. No offence," Dawson waved it off with a sniff and took a sip of firewhiskey, which he must have sneaked from one of the trays, because that drink was only for the adults at this event. "Don't worry, she thinks I only gave her this necklace at my parents' request," he continued when he noticed the startled expression in her eyes.

Camille had to collect herself first for a moment and process what she had experienced, which was harder to digest than spicy dragon balls. She was surprised at Dawson's discretion and that he hadn't just betrayed her, yet she didn't appreciate his belittling words earlier one bit. Nevertheless, she choked out a surprised "thank you".

"Not for this," the older Slytherin merely grumbled and had already turned away shaking his head the next moment. Still a little flabbergasted, Camille looked after him and then dropped exhausted against the wall, as if she had just walked to Hogwarts' seventh floor. It wasn't that she was physically exhausted, it was her mind that didn't know what to do.

"Would you like to dance?" she was suddenly pulled from her thoughts by a soft voice. She didn't know how long she had stood against that wall, staring holes in the air. But when she came back to the present, nothing seemed to have changed except the song of the self-playing piano. Smiling wryly, Regulus added; "I've been practising too, I promise."

"With pleasure," Camille replied, also smiling, actually feeling true pleasure in a dance for the first time that day. Even if Regulus was nowhere near as good a dancer as Lucius or even Elijah. But their hearts played to the same beat as they moved slowly to the sounds of the piano music.

"Go out with me," it blurted out abruptly from the black-haired boy that Camille initially found no response to his sudden words. Piqued, he cleared his throat. "W-well, only if you want to, of course..."

"I would be very happy to!"

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."