The sun set in a blaze of gold and crimson, the kind of dramatic farewell that seemed made just for lovers. At Blackmoor Academy, the Grand Enchanted Ballroom had been utterly transformed. Magical lanterns hovered near the high ceilings, shifting color depending on the music, while enchanted roses swirled gently in the air, releasing soft sparks of glitter with every spin.
The ballroom pulsed with anticipation.
Everyone was dressed in their finest—robes with glowing seams, tuxedos charmed to sparkle subtly, dresses that shimmered like moonlight on water. Even the ghosts in the portraits were floating in tuxes and gowns, waving tiny flags that said "Love Wins".
It was prom night at Blackmoor. A night to remember… or in Mr. Shawn's case, to make everyone else remember things that never happened.
---
Enter the Lovebirds
Hope stood at the top of the staircase in a midnight-blue gown that hugged her gently and glimmered with silver specks like stardust. Her hair had been enchanted to curl in soft waves, and a delicate vine of glowing crystals twisted through it.
Across the ballroom, London nearly dropped his drink.
He wore a deep charcoal suit with ember-like runes that glowed faintly. The suit made him look more like a phoenix prince than a student, which, given his whole burst-into-flames-then-resurrect thing, was strangely fitting.
He walked up to her, eyes locked.
"You look like you just stepped out of a constellation," he said softly.
Hope smiled, cheeks warming. "And you look like you've stopped setting your sleeves on fire."
They both laughed. Their hands met, fingers tangling.
Tonight, for once, it wasn't about power. Or monsters. Or mystery.
It was just about them.
---
Jessa and Raphael – Finally
Across the room, Raphael stood near the punch table, looking awkwardly sharp in a classic black suit that made even the ghost of a duchess pass through the wall and whistle.
He turned, eyes catching Jessa.
She descended the stairs like a comet—bold and fiery. Her red dress swirled with gold runes and moved like it had a heartbeat. Her lips curled into a smug smirk as she caught his gaze.
"You going to stand there all night looking like a lost puppy?" she asked.
Raphael chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "You look… wow."
"Wow yourself."
He offered her his hand. "Dance with me?"
She took it. "I thought you'd never ask."
---
Celeste… Watching
Celeste, dressed in a beautiful seafoam-green gown with moonstone threads, stood with a forced smile. Her gaze darted between Hope and London, and occasionally—though she didn't want to admit it—toward Daemon, who, as usual, had gone full mysterious vampire-mode: silent, perfectly dressed, eyes scanning the room like he was analyzing everyone's DNA.
Celeste walked up to him, gathering every ounce of courage.
"You… look nice," she said.
Daemon didn't even blink. "Thank you."
There was an awkward pause.
"I was wondering," she began, heart thudding, "if maybe later… you might want to dance."
"I don't dance."
"Oh."
She turned to walk away, crushed, but then—
He added softly, "But… I'll stand with you. If that's okay."
Celeste's eyes lit up. She nodded. "I'd like that."
---
Mr. Shawn's Grand Entrance
Suddenly, a wave of sparkling petals rained from the ceiling, and with a burst of harp music that no one remembered setting up, Mr. Shawn appeared at the center of the ballroom.
He wore a deep violet suit lined with shifting galaxies, and his hair shimmered like a dream remembered too late.
"My dear students," he said, spreading his arms. "What is a school without love? Tonight is not about battles or bloodlines, but about hearts. So remember me… as your humble headmaster of harmony."
The crowd swooned.
"WE LOVE YOU, MR. SHAWN!" someone yelled.
Even the enchanted DJ booth dropped a beat that sounded like a heartbeat.
Stephen, however, stood in the back of the room with binoculars, muttering to himself and clutching a notepad filled with scribbles like "Probable alien?" and "Tried to make me forget Richard again. FAILED (but actually succeeded)."
---
Stephen's Prom Disaster
Stephen had set up his ultimate plan: a truth-detecting glitter bomb rigged to explode if Mr. Shawn crossed a magical threshold he'd chalked near the center of the ballroom. He'd placed a small enchanted circle—right beneath the chandelier—where the spell would trigger.
Only problem was—
Raphael and Jessa stepped directly into the circle mid-slow dance.
Stephen screamed, "NOOOOO!"
The bomb exploded.
Glitter. Everywhere.
Jessa froze, now drenched in sparkling pink dust. "STEPHEN!!!"
Stephen tried to explain, but his voice cracked.
"It wasn't for you—it was for HIM!"
"YOU GLITTERED MY DATE!" Jessa shouted.
Raphael, blinking in confusion, looked like he'd been dipped in fairy sneeze.
"You could've just asked for a dance, man," he muttered.
Even Mr. Shawn smiled serenely, walking past the circle—completely unaffected—and tossed Stephen a heart-shaped confetti packet.
"Remember to breathe, Stephen. Love takes patience."
Stephen screamed into his coat.
---
The Almost Kiss
Outside, Hope and London slipped away from the music and magic to the balcony overlooking the enchanted forest. Soft snowflakes began to fall from the enchanted sky, though none melted on contact—they simply glowed and vanished.
London took Hope's hands. "Do you think… our parents would've liked each other?"
Hope hesitated. "Maybe. My mom always said love was worth the risk. Even if it hurt."
London nodded. "Mine… they weren't perfect. But they tried. And I think… we're doing better."
She looked up into his eyes.
He leaned in.
She leaned closer—
"HOPE!" a voice called behind them. "We need you inside—Jessa is about to start an actual magical duel with Stephen!"
The moment shattered like glass.
Hope sighed. "We'll finish that later."
London grinned. "I'll hold you to it."
They walked back inside, fingers still intertwined.