Female pronouns

Playlist song: Triakontameron, 30 Moods and Scenes in Triple Measure: XI. alt wien
And
Pavane

~~~

"(Y/N), darling, are you almost ready? The Godalmings have just arrived and Arthur's just dying to see you. You know he's fond of you so."

You blinked, shielding your eyes against the sudden glare of white. Since when did you own a pearl hairbrush? Or a gilded silver mirror, or a smooth polished vanity...

"(Y/N)? Are you there?" The woman's lilting voice came again.

"Coming, mother," you called back, pushing the stool back as you stood up on wobbly heels.

Wait, heels?

Yes, heels. The ball was today. The one your father had organized for your 21st birthday.

Of course.

You found yourself gliding towards an ornately carved oak door, surprised at the grace of which your feet pulled you across the floor.

You passed a floor length mirror and almost tripped at what you saw in it; a beautiful woman, clad in a long silver ball gown with pearl thread tracing swirling patterns along the skirt; two dangling diamond earrings, hair pulled up in a curling bun, and a white gold, pearl, and diamond collar that was surely worth more than everything you owned combined.

But the necklace was yours, so it wasn't worth more than everything you owned. You were the daughter of the wealthiest man in the county. Everything in the room was yours; the price of the necklace was only a fraction of that.

Yes, the woman in the mirror was you. Who else would it be?

Poking her head through the door, a small gasp escaped your mother's lips.

"Oh, (Y/N), darling," she breathed, coming towards you to place her hands lovingly on your shoulders. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you, mother," you replied, dipping your head. Your heart tugged at calling this woman mother. No, but she was your mother. Yes, she was. You were sure of it.

Were you?

"Come," she said, taking your arm. "Let's present you to the people."

With matching glides, you and your mother left the room, slipping through arched hallways towards the tinkling bells of people laughing and glasses clinking, the slow melodies of an orchestra playing the newest Beethoven.

But Beethoven had been dead for hundreds of years!

You could have sworn you'd just talked to him last week over afternoon tea... Perhaps it was best for you to avoid the champagne that night.

Trumpets blared as your mother whisked you into the ballroom, announcing your presence to the room of nobles. The ballroom glittered in a surreal light, draped with sparkling silver ribbons and swaths of light that coated the room in a smoky haze of vanilla.

"Lady (Y/N)!" A man bounded up the stairs to you, calling your name with a smile on your face. He took your arm from your mother, flashing her a dazzling smile, and pulled you down the stairs with all the confidence of a gentleman.

"Lord Godalming," you smiled, placing your other hand on his forearm. "How good to see you." You were once worried that Arthur Godalming harbored a secret fancy for you because of some unsavory rumors, which you became distraught over for fear it would ruin your friendship, but it turned out he never had any affinity for you other than the platonic type; in fact, he never had any affinity for any woman other than the platonic type at all. Since his confession, it had been his sole mission to find you a perfect match so that he might dispel the rumors of your affair.

"Miss (Y/N), I think I have finally found you the one. His name is Newt Scamander, come all the way from Brighton to meet you. Well, he's also doing some research on this book he's writing, but it was nothing to convince him to come see you tonight, which I take as a fortunate sign. I think you two shall get along splendidly." Arthur gushed, whisking you through dancing couples and women laughing over flutes of champagne.

"Oh, he must be quite the man, then, to come court me all the way from Brighton," you replied teasingly. Truthfully, you never took Arthur's conquests too seriously. It was more fun to indulge him than to actually partake in his antics.

"Oh, hush," Arthur replied. "You never know if you'll like him until you try."

He stopped in front of a group of men and a single, very uncomfortable-looking woman in a deep burgundy gown.

Arthur cleared his throat, patting your arm reassuringly. "Mr. Scamander," he said boldly. "May I introduce Lady (Y/N) (L/N) of House (L/N)."

"Ah!" A tall man with slightly curled dark brown hair and a long nose stepped forward, a haughty grin on his face. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/N). Theseus Scamander."

Arthur cleared his throat pretentiously, fixing Theseus Scamander with a sickly sweet smile. "Yes, (Y/N), this is Theseus. And your brother...?"

"Me?" A smaller voice piped up in the back, sounding like running water over smooth river stones.

"Ah, yes! There you are," Arthur smiled, his usual charm returning. "Lady (L/N), I present to you Mr. Newt Scamander."

The minute his eyes locked into you, you felt like the breath had been captured from your lungs. His tanned face, freckled from days in the sun, seemed to smile at you from the little nuances in his physiology; his dimples winked up at you, his crooked smile filled you with a comforting warmth, and his eyes, oh, his eyes, they radiated compassion and understanding; they seemed to whisper I know you; I understand you. You knew you'd just met this man, but you felt like you'd known him all your life.

Arthur smirked, nudging you with his shoulder knowingly.

"Pleasure to meet you," Mr. Scamander said softly, dipping into a subtle bow and tearing his beautiful eyes away from your gaze. You wanted to scream at him, wrench his face from the ground to make him to make him look at you again, to let you feel that sense of belonging once more. You wanted to know what about him made you feel the way you did.

"The pleasure is all mine," You breathed, swaying into a pretty curtsy.

Newt cleared his throat uncomfortably, his eyes darting to his companions. "Allow me to introduce me friends," he said timidly, with the air of one who's not accustomed to being in the spotlight. "This is my brother-" he gestured to the tall man, now with a slight scowl on his face. "-and his fiancé, Leta Lestrange." She, too, was sulking, shooting looks of frustration Theseus' way. They truly made a perfect couple.

"Wonderful to meet you both," you smiled at them politely, trying your best not to let Newt distract you.

"Mr. Scamander," Lord Godalming butt in. "It seems Lady (L/N) is in need of a dance partner. Would you save her from the embarrassment of such a predicament and treat her to the next waltz?"

A small gasp escaped your lips and you grabbed Arthur's wrist, your face flushing red. "Arthur!" You hissed. The lack of propriety!

Newt only let out a quiet laugh, to your relief. "I-I would be delighted to." An embarrassed smile came to your face. Newt held out his hand for you to take, a smile of his own arising. "Shall we?"

You smiled, dipping your head, and accepted his hand. The previous dance had just ended and a new waltz was being prepared as couples left and joined the dance floor. You took your places in the middle of the dance floor just as the music started up, a slow, melodic piece, and for a moment you panicked, thinking you didn't know how to waltz; but, fortunately, your feet guided you like they'd been dancing their whole lives.

"I love this piece," Newt murmured, his eyes sparking as they watched you. "Fauré is a truly underrated composer."

"I agree," you breathed in reply, intoxicated from the proximity. "However, Godowsky has some beautiful pieces."

"It's no matter," Newt replied softly, twirling you out and around as the music swelled.

"Why not?" You queried, letting yourself fall back into his chest.

"The most beautiful piece in the world could not compare to you," he murmured the words in your ear like a perfect secret. "All of Bach's Sonatas, all of Mozart's best symphonies, are nothing when compared to your beauty."

Your breath hitched and your eyes darted to his, where they were inches away from you, making you dizzy.

"I have to admit, Miss (Y/N)," Newt smiled, dipping his head. "There's something about you that makes me feel complete. Like I don't have to worry about putting up a facade."

"I feel the same," You replied, a smile lighting up your face. "Like I've known you forever."

"Excuse my boldness..." Newt paused, a blush rising to his cheeks and the tip of his nose brushing yours as the couples around you jostled you in their blissful dance. "I seem to have forgotten my manners."

"Don't," you replied earnestly. "Be sorry, I mean."

Newt smiled his crooked smile, pink coloring his cheeks. "You are utterly alluring, Lady (L/N). I'm afraid I might fall in love with you before the night is over."

"Then do so," you whispered, your lips brushing his. Your heart was pounding, your knees were shaking, every part of you was dying to press yourself to him and be his forever. "I won't push you away. I would never."

It was Newt's turn for his breath to catch in his lungs, his chest stilling against your own. "Perhaps we... should think... about... this..." he whispered, but his body was leaning towards you, like you were two magnets.

"What's there to think about?" You smiled, and suddenly his lips were on yours, sending tails of fire licking up and down your body. His hands trailed up and down your sides, you brushed your thumb against his jaw, his lips pushed against yours, pure yet not demanding...

It was like a dream.

~~~

"(Y/N). (Y/N)! Wake up!" Someone snapped in your face.

"Wha- What?" You groaned, sitting up. "What are you doing?"

Your best friend, Arthur Weasley, stood over you, arms crossed. "Trying to get you to wake up! Astronomy started 20 minutes ago!"

"It's alright, dear," Professor Trunkle, the herbology teacher, appeared in your line of sight and smiled down at you reassuringly. "It wasn't your fault. I just accidentally gave you and your friend Newt here too much Essence of Unicorn! You were only supposed to be out 15 minutes or so... but, ah, you probably don't mind getting the extra sleep. Professors these days work you dears so hard!"

"Wha- Essence is Unicorn?"

Professor Trunckle shook his head. "Mind can be a bit foggy afterwards," he spoke aside to Arthur. "Yes, dear. Essence of Unicorn. We were doing a demonstration with it to show the lifelike dreams it can cause for our joint herbology and potions lesson."

"Herbology... Dreams..." suddenly, it all came rushing back to you. Receiving the vials of Unicorn Essence, opening the bottle with Newt, and... "Oh, my god." You breathed.

You looked over and saw Newt staring at you, face pale. Your cheeks flushed red, hoping to god you hadn't shared the same dream.

"Arthur, you go along. I'll help these two get back on my feet. I just need to find those Bezoars..." Professor Trunckle stalked away, muttering to himself, and Arthur muttered something about the Professor being a nut before leaving to Astronomy.

It was terrifically uncomfortable between you and Newt.

"So... what did you dream about?" You asked, clearing your throat.

"Um..." Newt started, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, you were there. We were... dancing."

"Oh," you replied, your heart lurching.

"What about you?" He asked.

"Oh, me?" You laughed, looking away. "I... um.. dreamt I was flying. Yeah, flying. On a dragon."

"Oh." Newt seemed to wilt. "Sounds fun."

"Yup," you answered, looking away awkwardly. "You know, I've really got to get to Astronomy, so I'm just going to go-"

"Oh, yeah, I get it-"

"Nice seeing you."

"Um, yeah, you too." Newt shrunk in his seat, suddenly becoming very interested in the windowpane.

"Bye." You grabbed your stuff and hurried from the classroom, trying to ignore the flush on the back of your neck.

But no matter how much you reminded yourself it was a dream, you couldn't help but still feel the warmth of Newt's lips on yours in the twilight ballroom.