Theo Nott

187

The grand ballroom of Malfoy Manor was filled with the most influential wizards and witches of the wizarding world. Lanterns hovered above, casting a warm, ethereal glow, while elegant music filled the air. The event was a masquerade ball, held in honor of Draco Malfoy’s latest business venture, and Theo Nott had begrudgingly attended at his friend’s insistence. Theo stood near the bar, swirling his drink, his expression as cold and detached as ever. He glanced around the room, scanning the crowd with mild disinterest. That was until his eyes fell upon a figure he didn’t recognize. She was wearing a silver mask adorned with delicate feathers, and her dress shimmered with every movement. There was something about her that caught his attention — something familiar, yet he couldn't place it.