If the allure brought by Veela blood was indiscriminate and effective regardless of gender, then Pansy and Hermione each possessed their own group of male wizards who admired and supported them.
Fleur looked dazzling once she stepped into her evening gown, and for a moment it truly felt as though applause was about to erupt. But before anyone could cheer, the appearance of Pansy and Hermione immediately stole the sound from everyone's throats.
Hermione, who rarely ever dressed up, looked like Cinderella just before midnight. Almost without realizing it, every gaze in the hall settled on her.
Even Draco, who saw Hermione in formal dresses night after night, couldn't help but be drawn in by her like this.
If even Draco felt his heart stir, the reaction of the other wizards went without saying.
Her intellectual air, paired with such a striking contrast from her usual self, left the Gryffindor lions staring with their mouths wide open. Watching them beat their chests in regret, it was obvious they were wishing they'd noticed Hermione's potential much earlier.
After all, compared to Slytherin, Gryffindor naturally held quite an advantage in numbers.
Ron Weasley, who looked the most excited of them all, didn't stand out as odd in the slightest.
Because everyone else was reacting almost exactly the same way.
Pansy, walking in hand in hand with Hermione, effortlessly captured the rest of the attention.
Compared to the tall, composed, and intellectual Hermione Granger, Pansy beside her appeared far more petite. On top of that, she had deliberately chosen a pink evening gown this time, making her radiate pure cuteness from head to toe.
Especially when she spotted Draco and lit up with unconcealed delight, she looked just like a puppy that had spotted its owner, ears practically perking up. If Pansy had a tail, it would have been wagging furiously.
Even though everyone knew this Slytherin witch already had someone she liked, that heart-melting sweetness was still enough to make faces flush and hearts race.
In fact, seeing Pansy like this even stirred a renewed impulse in Harry Potter, who had long since given up on inviting her, to try his luck once more.
After the upperclassmen finished entering, it was finally the turn of the younger students. They weren't allowed onto the dance floor and could only stand to the side, watching their seniors dance.
Among them, Astoria stood out with her confident smile and carefully chosen purple gown, shining among the younger students and not losing out to Pansy and the others in the slightest.
Worth mentioning was Luna Lovegood, who walked near the back of the line. To everyone's surprise, she had removed the strange accessories she usually wore, at the very least leaving behind that lion-head hat.
Now looking clean and pure, Luna drew no small amount of attention as well.
In short.
The arrival of the girls instantly filled the ballroom with light, brilliance, and a thick, intoxicating atmosphere.
...
"The food at Hogwarts is far too greasy. My dress is barely fitting anymore."
Fleur's voice wasn't loud, but by sheer coincidence, Pansy and Hermione happened to hear it as they passed by. Even more coincidentally, Fleur's gaze drifted right toward them at that exact moment.
The two exchanged a look, then stopped in unison and turned to face Fleur. They were genuinely curious to see just what this supposed "can't fit into the dress" situation looked like.
Only…
After glancing at those long legs in front of her, Pansy let out a quiet, displeased snort.
Hermione, having noticed what the other girl had apparently been eating to end up with that… particular result, pursed her lips in irritation.
"......"
"......"
A brief silence followed.
That was a provocation, right?
It had to be.
Compared to Fleur, who would be graduating next year, Pansy and Hermione were only just in their fourth year and had barely turned fourteen. Naturally, they still needed time to grow.
Of course, that didn't mean Fleur was more beautiful than they were. It was simply that when it came to sheer allure, Fleur's Veela bloodline and flawless figure did give her an edge.
Even so, neither of the proud girls was willing to concede so easily.
"Greasy?" Hermione spoke up calmly. "Whether it's Cornish pasties or Yorkshire pudding, none of those are greasy foods. Do you need me to speak to the house-elves for you?"
Unlike most people, Hermione preferred to argue using references and logic.
And in truth, her words did leave Fleur, who wasn't very familiar with British cuisine, momentarily at a loss.
Pansy, however, showed no such restraint.
"Can't fit into it? Oh~ how tragic. My dear… ah, plump… dear Delacour."
It was hard to say whether Pansy had picked up this talent from Goyle and Crabbe, or whether their constant verbal jabs at Harry Potter had simply sharpened her own tongue over time.
Even though she didn't finish the sentence outright, the deliberately slipped keyword was enough to make Fleur's eyes flare with anger.
"…Hmph!"
Perhaps because she had few friends and very little experience with verbal sparring, Fleur ultimately had no way to retaliate. With reddened eyes, she lifted her chin high and stomped off, heels striking the floor sharply.
For some reason, watching Fleur Delacour walk away as if she clearly hadn't lost, Pansy and Hermione suddenly found her a little… cute.
"Did we… go too far?" one of them muttered.
"Well… she did start it," the other replied.
Their expressions turned slightly awkward.
It seemed Fleur wasn't quite what they'd imagined.
They'd expected a proud white swan, but now she looked more like a harmless little rabbit.
...
Once all the young witches had entered the hall, the male and female students naturally separated, standing on opposite sides of the ballroom. During this time, every young wizard was busy scanning the crowd, searching for their dance partner.
For Draco, finding his partner wasn't difficult at all.
Pansy and Hermione stood out far too much in the crowd. He didn't need to search. One glance was enough to spot them immediately.
That said, before the dancing began, everyone still had to eat, even if most people's minds were already nowhere near the food.
After the doors closed, Professor McGonagall, who was presiding over the Christmas ball, stood up from the empty seat of honor.
She, too, had dressed up for the occasion. She wore a long red plaid robe, with an unfortunately unattractive wreath of thistles decorating the brim of her hat.
"Now then, Champions, please come this way!"
Under Professor McGonagall's direction, all of the Champions except the one from Durmstrang, including Draco, stepped forward and took their seats around the same large round table. The rest of the students gradually found their places and sat down as well.
It was worth mentioning that the Quidditch star Seeker who had gone missing during the match was recently discovered, tied up in his own home.
As Professor McGonagall continued directing the proceedings, Draco, now seated, noticed the menus placed in front of him. Judging by the empty plates, it seemed they were meant to order their food.
Just as he was about to pick up the menu—
"Is there really nothing that isn't British food?"
The sudden whisper made Draco look up.
Sitting across from him was Fleur Delacour, menu in hand. Noticing his gaze, the Beauxbatons Champion confidently flicked her silver hair back.
Whether Draco himself was affected was unclear, but what was obvious was that every wizard seated at the table had their breathing thrown off by that alluring glance.
Especially Harry Potter beside him. The hesitation on his face made it seem as though he was seriously considering whether he should try inviting a different partner instead.
After all, there was no rule saying a Champion couldn't invite another Champion to the ball.
...
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