HP: I beat the otome game at Hogwarts

Chapter 167 The Suffocating Young Master Malfoy

"You—" Draco couldn't believe that the girl showed no remorse at all, and questioned, "You've already... you've already... how can you accept someone else's invitation to the ball!"

Draco had assumed that by making things completely clear, the dark-haired girl would be filled with shame, beg for his forgiveness, and promise never to make the same mistake again.

Lyra's eyebrows didn't falter at all; her composure was unbelievable, as if Draco Malfoy were a three-year-old throwing a tantrum if he didn't get candy, her tone utterly calm.

“I haven’t agreed yet, I’m still thinking about it,” Leila said quietly, looking at the platinum-haired young master. “Even if I accepted another boy’s invitation, what then? After all—”

"—You didn't invite me, did you?"

"I..." Draco wanted to throw a tantrum when he heard the first part, but when he heard Lyra's final accusation, well, her tone was quite calm, it was Draco himself who felt a little guilty.

Of course, he couldn't openly invite her to be his dance partner at the Hogwarts Christmas Ball. Let alone a dance partner, even just dancing together would be risky if word got back to his father.

Moreover, given the Triwizard Tournament, the people at this ball wouldn't just be teachers and students from the school, but also many foreigners and Ministry of Magic officials. Any one of them could potentially be connected to the Malfoy family, and could become a channel for exposing their secret relationship.

He couldn't take the risk of disobeying his parents immediately after their formal warning during summer vacation. Actually, after witnessing it that night... he could somewhat understand why his parents had warned him. It was a matter of factions, and the balance of power between the two sides seemed poised for a significant shift in the near future—

In short, he understood his parents' subtle hints and somewhat grasped his father's difficulties. Given the current situation, keeping his distance from Dumbledore and the Gryffindor school he absolutely controlled was the wisest course of action. Even a student romance could become an excuse for his father to... be attacked.

"Draco, you should grow up—" His mother's sigh from that night still echoed in Draco's ears.

“I…” Draco suddenly wasn’t so angry anymore. He turned his head awkwardly, his tone less forceful, “I just can’t stand watching you dance with other boys.”

“So,” the dark-haired, grey-eyed girl approached Draco Malfoy step by step, “would you like to invite me?”

"I can't," Draco said, hearing his own curt refusal.

“I’m sorry, I can’t invite you to be my dance partner for some reason—” Draco looked at Lyra apologetically, “I’ll make it up to you!”

Seeing that the platinum young master was no longer so annoying, Leila regained some of her leisure time.

“Is that so?” Lyra said, her smoky gray eyes fixed on Draco, leaning closer. “Then let’s make it up to him now—”

As soon as she finished speaking, Lyra wrapped her arms around the platinum boy's neck and kissed him directly.

It has the sweet taste of strawberries.

Draco felt all his senses being amplified infinitely, and without realizing it, he went from passively cooperating with Lyra to having one hand behind her head and the other on her waist, launching a powerful counterattack.

Lyra sensed the boy's enthusiasm, and she would occasionally try to gain the upper hand, but these attempts were always thwarted by the platinum-haired boy's even more fervent response.

Sure enough, this kind of stubborn boy is much more adorable than the young master who throws tantrums.

Leila licked her lips with satisfaction.

As their breathing gradually calmed down, Draco's hands were still reluctant to leave Lyra's body.

“You are mine, and belong only to me—” Draco said domineeringly, “I will not allow you to dance with any boy other than me.”

"I don't belong to anyone, I only belong to myself."

Lyra's fingers were still weaving and circling through Draco's moon-like light-colored hair. She wasn't displeased by what she heard, but just lazily spoke while playing with the boy's hair.

"If you don't invite me, I'll just say yes to someone else, it's that simple."

Draco was a little indignant and angry upon hearing this, but the kiss just now was so wonderful that he was filled with tenderness for Lyra, and he couldn't bring himself to vent his bad temper on her.

“I didn’t mean to, I just couldn’t invite you for some reason,” Draco said somewhat urgently. “I’ll make it up to you, double the compensation, I swear—”

“So, you mean,” Lyra said, pulling away slightly, “that you won’t invite me to dance with you, nor will you allow me to dance with someone else?”

“It’s my dad, my father. If you become my dance partner, I’m afraid he’ll make things difficult for you afterwards,” Draco said softly, his grey-blue eyes full of pleading. “I can sneak out of the ball early, I’ll just dance one dance and then we can quietly go to the garden to dance, just you and me, okay?”

“Oh no—” Leila said slowly, drawing out her words, just like some of the platinum young masters used to say, “I won’t change my mind. If you don’t invite me yourself, don’t stop me from accepting someone else’s invitation.”

“Why, why can’t we always… always do this privately…” Draco asked, a mix of confusion and sadness in his voice. “Why can’t we do this at the ball? I’ll invite Pansy to be my dance partner, but it’s just for show, there’s no personal feeling involved—”

Why wasn't Leila willing to wait patiently for him to slip away from the ball so they could dance privately this time? He swore that she was the only true and one true dance partner in his heart.

“Draco, I prefer our private meetings not because I’m afraid of the Malfoys’ power,” Lyra raised an eyebrow, “nor because I’m afraid of your father, afraid of Slytherin gossip, and certainly not to appease you—”

"I do this simply because I like it this way."

"Similarly, I prefer to dance openly and honestly at a ball rather than slinking around like two little mice on the lawn."

"So, I will bring a dance partner to the Christmas ball."

Draco Malfoy and the dark-haired girl parted on bad terms.

Well, it wasn't exactly a bad ending; it's just that the two couldn't reach an agreement in the end. Faced with Lyra's calm yet resolute expression, Draco didn't dare to lose his temper and could only leave sullenly.

But the platinum-rich young master imagined a girl with black hair and gray eyes, wearing a long, flowing gray-blue dress, beautifully and dazzlingly walking slowly towards another boy...

Or perhaps she'd wear a shimmering silver backless dress, displaying her slender, fair back to other men...

The realization of any of these images suffocated him.