Today, Fleur had clearly put extra effort into her appearance. Her long silver hair shimmered as if enchanted, catching the light with every movement. Paired with her exquisitely refined features, it was enough to make the male wizards around her slow their steps without realizing it.
It wasn't just her striking figure that drew attention. With graduation only a year away, Fleur carried herself with a maturity far beyond most of her peers. Every gesture held a composure and elegance few could match. Combined with the natural allure of her Veela bloodline, her presence became overwhelmingly captivating.
It was no wonder that, today alone, a full seven wizards had already come to ask her to be their dance partner…
Unfortunately, just like the ones before him, this brave but bright-red Gryffindor wizard, who looked as though he might faint at any moment, met the same fate. He could not escape Fleur's merciless rejection.
She didn't lower her head. Instead, Fleur only flicked a glance at him from the corner of her eye, her thoughts filled with impatience and a trace of irritation.
'Why do I keep running into people like this?'
Amid the murmured discussions around them and faced with a wizard who didn't even reach her chest in height, Fleur's already unsmiling expression grew even colder.
Though she had been mentally prepared, being confronted again and again by such oblivious wizards was starting to wear on her nerves.
'I really shouldn't have listened to Gabrielle.'
Thinking back to Gabrielle's suggestion that morning, Fleur let out a quiet sigh of regret.
Just as these thoughts crossed her mind, the all-too-familiar invitation she had heard countless times rang out again.
"Would you be my dance partner?"
'Tch.'
Fleur cast a disdainful glance at the wizard in front of her. The hopeful look on his face made her unwilling to say even a single word.
Did he really think she would agree?
Tap, tap, tap…
"..."
"..."
Without leaving behind so much as a sentence, Fleur turned and walked away.
The Gryffindor wizard, who had just been convinced he stood a chance, froze on the spot. His vacant stare made it clear he couldn't believe this was the outcome he'd received.
Worse still, the eyes on him from all directions made him wish he could dig a hole and bury himself in it.
It was simply too humiliating…
…
Laughter.
Sighs.
Mixed in with good-natured teasing and mockery were even more sighs, all centered on the same question. Just who would end up as Fleur's dance partner?
Although many found it entertaining that Fleur still hadn't chosen anyone, as more and more wizards failed and the Yule Ball drew closer, curiosity and frustration began to spread among the male students. Everyone wanted to know who Fleur Delacour was waiting for.
Or rather, who could possibly become her partner…
"So, who do you think has the best chance?"
"Cedric's out. He asked Cho Chang ages ago."
"Then… what about Harry Potter?"
"Ha…"
That subtle pause caused everyone's gaze to drift away.
And right at that moment, Harry Potter appeared with Ron, though both of them looked weighed down by their thoughts.
The Yule Ball had done a good job of diverting most people's attention, but those who knew Dumbledore's plans and the truth of the Dark Lord's return couldn't afford to be so optimistic.
The current calm in the wizarding world existed only because the newly resurrected Dark Lord had yet to fully recover his strength.
Once he did, the British wizarding world would no longer remain so peaceful…
As Harry Potter walked into the corridor, lost in thought, they happened to catch sight of Fleur's back just as she turned and disappeared.
That flowing silver hair made her identity unmistakable.
"Ron, who was that just now?"
"Looks like a witch from Beauxbatons."
"Delacour…"
"Forget about her for now. Harry, it's been ages already. Have you figured out who you're asking to the ball?"
"Uh… I'm still thinking."
"Still thinking? Come on, Harry. Don't forget what Professor McGonagall said. As a Champion, you're responsible for opening the dance. You're running out of time."
"Don't just lecture me. What about you? Who are you asking?"
"..."
Ron opened his mouth, then closed it again, speechless. On this point, he and Harry were pretty much the same. Neither of them had the right to criticize the other.
Compared to Harry Potter, who was both a Champion and the so-called savior, Ron was far less popular with girls. If anything, his chances of finding a partner were even slimmer than Harry's.
He let out a sigh.
"You're not the same as me, Harry. You're a Champion. Finding a dance partner won't be that hard. Trust me, there are loads of witches just waiting for you to ask."
As he said this, Ron's gaze unconsciously drifted toward a girl not far away. What he didn't notice was that whenever this topic came up, Harry Potter's eyes also wandered in the same direction from time to time.
It was obvious that if they weren't looking at the same girl, then she was at least standing nearby or in the same direction…
They fell silent for a few seconds, until Ron suddenly seemed to remember something and turned back to Harry.
"Harry, actually, Ginny—"
"I've decided, Ron. You're right. I should give it a try."
"Huh?"
"You're right. I'm not worse than her."
Looking toward someone in the distance, Harry Potter's expression suddenly filled with an inexplicable confidence.
Others didn't know, but after clashing with that person once and managing to escape safely, Harry's confidence had grown considerably. Combined with Ron's encouragement, he felt that maybe he really could try.
Seeing Harry suddenly so fired up, Ron scratched his head in confusion.
So… what about my sister, then?
The Hogwarts professors seemed eager to leave a good impression on the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students. With Christmas approaching, the castle's decorations that week were far more elaborate than in previous years.
Even Draco, who normally paid little attention to such things, noticed that this was the most beautiful Hogwarts he had seen since enrolling.
The marble staircase railings were draped with icicles that never melted. In the Great Hall, the usual twelve Christmas trees were decorated with all sorts of trinkets.
From twinkling holly berries to constantly chirping golden owls, and the enchanted suits of armor lining the corridors that burst into loud Christmas carols whenever a wizard passed by.
Most amusing of all was that the armor seemed to know only half the lyrics. Every time they reached the middle of a song, they froze awkwardly, creating a scene that was both ridiculous and oddly charming.
However, for Pansy and Hermione, who still hadn't received a dance invitation from a certain someone, none of these amusing decorations held the slightest appeal…
Evening.
The Room of Requirement.
"Draco, can you come somewhere with me?"
"Hm?"
Just as Draco stepped out of the Room of Requirement, before he could even respond, Hermione's small hand pressed against his back. The gentle yet unyielding push, paired with her soft tone, made him give up resisting without even realizing it.
And just like that, Draco and Hermione left first, moving in an awkward, almost strange posture.
What was unexpected was that Pansy, who came out a moment later, neither followed them nor tried to stop Hermione.
Seeing this from behind, Astoria narrowed her eyes slightly…
...