Perhaps it was ant to soothe the students’ emotions, or perhaps it was a way of showing that everything was still under control.
In any case, the ball that had originally been scheduled between the events of the Triwizard Tournant was neither canceled because of the incident nor altered due to Dolores Umbridge’s opposition.
Of course, if the High Inquisitor had not already left the school, Professor McGonagall would certainly have been left with a splitting headache over the matter…
Still, once the news spread that the Yule Ball would go ahead as planned, everyone’s attention quickly shifted away from Harry Potter and toward a far more pressing issue.
Who to ask as a dance partner.
Even though the professors had assigned plenty of howork, most students clearly had little interest in it.
During the preparation period before the Christmas Ball, nearly the entire school was buzzing with discussions about the dance and potential partners.
As a result, Hogwarts had beco noticeably livelier than usual.
After all, looked at from another angle, choosing a dance partner was the perfect chance to test mutual interest.
In fact, when all factors were taken into account, almost every young wizard shared the sa first choice. To be precise, in the minds of most wizards, there were a few people who were overwhelmingly popular, yet notoriously difficult to succeed with…
...
Heavy snow fell over the castle and the forest alike.
The Beauxbatons carriage parked beside the Forbidden Forest now looked like a giant pumpkin coated in frost, while nearby, the gingerbread-like little house dusted with sugar was Hagrid’s gakeeper’s hut.
Across the lake, the hull of the Durmstrang ship had frozen over, its surface smooth and gleaming, while the rigging was covered in a layer of white frost.
As winter fully set in, the Hogwarts house-elves adjusted the nu to dishes that were both filling and warming. Still, perhaps because the flavors didn’t suit her taste, Fleur complained from ti to ti.
To her, British food was simply not very appealing.
But compared to overly greasy dishes or the issue of fish heads always facing upward, sothing else had been troubling Fleur even more lately.
“Hello! Um… that… I… you…”
“……”
A sudden shout echoing through the corridor drew the attention of passing wizards.
However, once they saw who had been stopped, a clear look of pity appeared in every gaze directed at the visibly nervous lower-year wizard.
Because the witch he had called out to was none other than Fleur Delacour, holding her head high like a white swan, her expression cool and impatient as she looked the boy up and down…
Thanks to her Veela bloodline, no matter where Fleur went, male wizards inevitably gathered around her. In the past few days, that tendency had only grown more pronounced.
As one lower-year wizard stepped forward, the corridor quickly filled with onlookers eager to watch the spectacle.
“Who is it this ti?”
“Looks like another underclassman. Only they’d be this impulsive.”
“That’s not surprising. Who could resist her charm?”
“Hmph, wishful thinking. If it were , I might at least have a chance.”
“……”
“……”
Ahem… putting that aside, how many is this now?
“If you an today, that makes seven… all failures.”
From the quiet discussions around them, it was clear this scene was nothing new. In fact, it wasn’t even the first ti it had happened.
The reason was obvious.
The approaching Yule Ball, and the wizards’ hopeful fantasies.
What if it worked?
What if she liked ?
After all, no one wanted their dance partner to be anything less than the most captivating person in the room. And the beautiful Fleur Delacour just happened to be one of those choices…
…
Draco, who had just finished his History of Magic class, happened to be among the crowd and saw the mont Fleur was stopped.
Naturally, Pansy, who was almost always at his side, and Hermione, who attended classes with Slytherin, also noticed the disturbance over there…
“There aren’t many days left before the ball starts~”
“Yeah. From what Professor McGonagall said, each champion will be responsible for the opening.”
It sounded like Pansy and Hermione were simply chatting, but as they spoke, their gazes kept drifting, intentionally or not, toward Draco standing nearby.
Their hints were already more than obvious. Even without spelling it out, anyone could tell exactly what Pansy and Hermione were waiting for and expecting.
The problem was that there was only one Draco…
Although he was more mature than most wizards his age, lacking any experience in this area made Draco’s expression stiffen slightly.
Draco Malfoy straightened his slim fra and sneakily glanced at Pansy and Hermione, who had just put a bit of distance between themselves and him.
“Uh… hmm.”
That ambiguous response earned him a perfectly synchronized eye roll from both Pansy and Hermione, after which they exchanged a look with each other.
A faint tension lingered in the air.
“The first dance of the ball is extrely important. If the dancing’s bad, it’ll be Draco who ends up embarrassed.”
“Mm…”
As if an arrow had gone straight through her heart, Hermione let out a soft, shaken sound.
That was true. Compared to Miss Parkinson, who had received aristocratic training from a young age and attended countless formal gatherings, Hermione’s experience in this area was indeed lacking.
Especially when it ca to dancing. Hermione had never studied it at all…
But she wasn’t soone who gave up easily, and she quickly pulled herself together.
“It’s just dancing. As long as I spend so ti on it, there won’t be a problem. It can’t possibly be harder than spells, can it?”
A confident Hermione refused to believe that dancing of all things could defeat her.
She paused.
“And besides, more important than technique is…”
Pansy, not quite catching on, looked over with a puzzled expression.
Only when Hermione walked over to Draco’s side and deliberately straightened up, lifting her chest in a provocative display, did Pansy finally understand what Hermione had ant but left unsaid.
Height.
Although Pansy surpassed Hermione in certain areas of developnt, she was noticeably shorter.
Standing next to Draco, the not-so-tall Pansy looked even more petite.
In comparison, Hermione, whose height reached just under Draco’s chin, looked far more suited to stand at his side.
That scene, along with Hermione’s openly provocative behavior, made Pansy’s eye twitch…
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