allendalepharm Chapter 211 Christmas Ball: The Teacher Returns
Chapter 211 Christmas Ball: The Teacher Returns
Chapter 211 Christmas Ball: The Teacher Returns
Picking up where we left off, Hermione mustered her courage and invited Harry to meet her. This question, however, took more effort than simply reciting the name "Voldemort."
Fearing Harry might refuse, she quickly added, "Of course, if you have a preferred dance partner, then disregard what I said."
"If you don't have one, I'd be very willing to be your partner."
His voice trailed off, muttering something indistinctly, before he raised it again: "And I can even teach you how to ballroom dance."
Although she spoke calmly on the surface, it was as if a thousand Cornish elves were frolicking inside her, making her liver tremble, her courage shake, and her internal organs turn upside down.
Upon hearing this, Harry felt as if parched seedlings had received rain, and he was overjoyed. He quickly clasped his hands and bowed deeply.
"Sister, you're a lifesaver! I was so anxious about this mess and had no idea what to do, but you've come to my rescue."
"Please accept Harry's bow!"
This bow, though seemingly insignificant, transformed all the previous sentimental feelings into a pledge of brotherhood and loyalty.
Hermione felt that she was not a delicate lady dressed in fine silks and holding flowers to wait for her lover; rather, she felt like a female general in armor, wielding a spear and rushing to the rescue.
Her girlish thoughts vanished instantly, like a newly blossoming flower bud struck by frost. She could only rub her face a couple of times, straighten her spirits, and say loudly, "Then it's settled. I'll be your dance partner."
"Also, you need to set aside at least one hour each day to learn ballroom dancing with me."
Harry chuckled and said, "Don't worry, big sister, I know what I'm doing."
From then on, although Harry had secretly chosen a dance partner, he never publicized it, saying it was a private matter and not something he could say more about.
Unfortunately, he underestimated his family's reputation in the magical world. Since he did not explicitly state that he already had a partner, others assumed that he was still without one.
Therefore, three or five women would often ask questions in person or send letters by owl.
The letter was written with exquisite prose and deep emotion. For several days, feathers kept flying back and forth above his head, leaving him no peace and quiet.
While they were ice fishing on the shore of Black Lake that day, they suddenly heard Ron call out, "Harry, look, it's an owl."
Immediately afterward, a black owl circled several times in mid-air, then swooped down on Harry. It tossed a letter at him, then flapped its wings and flew away.
Ron noticed the letter's cover was a vibrant pink and immediately concluded, "Looks like another invitation to dance."
Hermione examined the handwriting on the envelope for a while, then said thoughtfully, "It looks a bit like something a Durmstrang student would write. The English is terrible."
Harry remained silent, only glancing at the letter. It was filled with flowery, rambling language. At its core, it merely asked if he would like to join the meeting.
At the end of the letter, there were two checkmarks clearly marked "Yes" and "No".
Without a second thought, Harry drew his wand and circled "No".
Suddenly, with a loud bang, the letter tore in his palm, turning into pieces of paper that fell to the ground.
Harry sighed, then pointed his wand at the pile of shredded paper, which instantly turned into golden corn kernels. He then tossed them into the lake to make a nest.
"Damn it! These damn letters never stop coming! There's enough piled up under my bedroom window to last all winter!"
Hermione was taken aback. "So many?"
Ron shook his head. "To be more precise, it's enough for our whole dorm to burn for a whole winter."
As the three were talking, they suddenly smelled a fragrant breeze behind them, and one of them asked with a laugh, "What could possibly burn all winter?"
When they turned around quickly, they saw Furong standing behind them, wearing a moon-white felt coat, her eyes filled with autumn water, smiling as she looked at them.
Ron remained outwardly calm, but secretly shifted his body slightly to the side, quietly moving towards the willow-shaped fishing rod.
Harry merely furrowed his brow, his blue eyes scanning her from head to toe twice, and asked suspiciously, "You're the kind of owl who only comes to the house at night—what do you want with us?"
Furong did not answer, but waved her magic wand. The stones and soil on the ground seemed to come alive and trembled, instantly forming a stone chair that resembled an eight-treasure lotus seat.
She gracefully sat down, crossed her legs, and rested her chin on her delicate hand.
"I just came over to ask if you'd be interested in being my partner."
Hermione narrowed her eyes, her voice suddenly rising sharply, "Partner? I guess you mean dance partner, Miss Delacour."
"They're pretty much the same thing," Fleur said dismissively, then looked intently at Harry. "Mr. Potter, what are your thoughts?"
After saying that, a hint of greed suddenly flashed in Furong's eyes, "If I could, I would like to see your Animagus again—"
"I don't know why, but that snake-like creature just keeps haunting my mind—"
While Hibiscus was still rambling on, Hermione, unable to contain herself any longer, stepped forward and interrupted, "Can you just look at something as private as an Animagus?"
"Also, you're too late. I'm Harry's dance partner."
Furong was genuinely surprised to hear this.
She then looked Hermione up and down carefully again, and then smiled again.
"You're kidding."
These words sounded gentle, yet they concealed sharp edges. Though not uttering a single word of insult, they encompassed all forms of humiliation. Truly: laughter hides a blade, a casual remark can be deadly.
Hermione also curled the corners of her lips into a half-smile and replied, "I never joke with magical creatures."
These words seemed to freeze her in place, and Furong could no longer laugh.
Harry, unable to contain himself, clapped his hands and laughed loudly, "Big sister, you're really quick-witted!"
"In the more than three years since I enrolled, I've never seen my eldest sister lose the slightest bit of her authority in a verbal argument!"
At this point, Fleur had already figured out whose heart Harry was truly on.
Not wanting to make a fool of herself, she abruptly stood up, straightened her skirt, and said in a light but hurried tone, "Alright, Mr. Potter."
"Now that you've made your choice, I'll show you who the brightest star at the ball really is."
When Hermione heard Fleur's words, her face remained impassive, but her lips suddenly tightened.
It should be known that although Furong's words were sharp, they were not unfounded. She was only eighteen years old, just like a rose in full bloom, with a beautiful figure and captivating charm.
I am only fourteen years old, still like a tender bud on a branch, not yet in full bloom. If we only consider my current appearance, I am indeed inferior.
She was secretly pondering, gathering a string of words that were both tactful and barbed, ready to retort.
Unexpectedly, Harry suddenly spoke up, "Those who use their beauty to please others will find their favor waning as their beauty fades."
Upon hearing these obscure words, Furong was stunned, as if she had heard a heavenly book. The spring breeze on her face vanished, leaving only a chilling frost-like expression.
She gave Harry a long look, said nothing, turned around, and strode away.
She had only taken a dozen steps when several men and women, captivated by her alluring fragrance, gathered around her like infatuated butterflies, eager to invite her to the dance.
Unexpectedly, Furong showed no mercy. With a flick of her sleeve and a swing of her wand, she sent those fools flying three zhang away.
"Tsk tsk."
Ron stared at Fleur's retreating figure and clicked his tongue, saying, "Harry, you've hit the nail on the head."
Harry was about to reply when suddenly there was a splash on the water, and a blue-faced, fanged mermaid leaped out from the parting of the waves.
Holding a three-pronged fork, the man glared at the three men, his strange eyes wide, and roared, "Do you three have any manners?!"
"Littering is one thing, but turning it into corn kernels is another!"
Just how poor are you?!
Harry glanced at the mermaid briefly, then flew into a rage, yelling, "You son of a bitch! Your grandpa Harry was fishing for fish, not some bird-like mermaid like you! What are you babbling about?!"
"If you say another word, I'll smash your head and make fish head soup!"
The mermaid, upon hearing the name "Harry" and seeing the golden electric scar on his forehead, was terrified.
Hearing that its head was to be used to make soup, how could we dare to neglect it?
He quickly retracted the steel fork and plunged into the water with a "plop," disappearing without a trace as ripples spread across the surface.
Let's stop talking.
Time flies, and before we know it, it's Christmas Day, December 25th.
The students in the school were all itching to go out, so how could they have the leisure to go on an outing? Most of them were practicing their footwork and tidying their clothes in their rooms, just waiting for the Christmas ball at 7 p.m. tonight.
When it was time to go to the auditorium, all the students changed into their finest formal attire and went in twos and threes.
Meanwhile, in his dormitory, Harry was also dressed in the outfit that Lupin had given him.
He wore a black satin robe with arrow-sleeved sleeves over a plain silk undergarment. This ceremonial robe accentuated his robust physique, making his broad chest appear even more impressive. Anyone who saw him would have to applaud and call him "a true hero."
Ron was about to offer his praise when he saw Harry deftly sling his ring knife over his shoulder, sheath his Gryffindor sword, and tightly bind his arm guards.
The sight of this outfit mixed together with the formal attire made Ron's scalp tingle and his eyelids twitch wildly. He hurriedly stopped him.
"Harry! We're going to a ball, not to kill people!"
Harry waved his hand and said, "Brother, you're mistaken. Haven't you heard the saying, 'Preparedness is the best policy'?"
"The last time, Azkaban was guarded by hundreds of Dementors. How heavily fortified it was! But because I was arrogant, I barged in empty-handed and almost lost my life there."
"This is exactly the meaning of 'a fall into a pit, a gain in your wit'."
Ron was about to try to persuade her again, but then he thought, "It's not like it's me and Harry dancing, why should I care? This is Hermione's business."
He nodded and said, "Alright, Harry, I respect your opinion."
The two of them left the dormitory and headed to the common lounge.
From afar, Ron saw a woman in a light purple-blue robe sitting by the fireplace, her hair piled high in a bun. The firelight made her jade-like neck glow with a rosy sheen. Ron opened his mouth to call Hermione, but then noticed that the woman was much taller than Hermione. He couldn't help but exclaim in surprise, "This senior looks just like Hermione from behind."
Harry stared at the figure's back for a moment, then suddenly clapped his hands and laughed, "Brother, you've mistaken me! That's none other than Big Sister!"
The loud voice startled the seated beauty, who turned around abruptly. Her appearance was indeed identical to Hermione's, yet like a peach blossom in March after a night of rain, it suddenly blossomed with seven-tenths of its radiance.
The budding innocence of yesteryear has faded, and now she is breathtakingly beautiful. The Crooked Lynx in her arms still lies there lazily.
Ron stared in disbelief for a long time before slapping his thigh and exclaiming, "You drank an anti-aging potion?!"
Hermione's eyes crinkled, and her lips parted slightly, but when she caught sight of Harry's attire, her smile froze on her face.
"Harry, we're not going to kill anyone."
"Please don't be offended, elder sister. As the saying goes, 'One should always be wary of others.' Even if you have no intention of harming the tiger, you must be careful that it doesn't harm you."
Hermione could only sigh as she listened to his eloquent words, and suddenly felt her sun throbbing.
"Don't forget, Harry, Professor Dumbledore is here too."
Harry shook his head, still worried. "Professor Dumbledore may be a pillar of strength, but even he can't be completely safe."
"Since that Death Eater was able to secretly throw my name into the Goblet of Fire, he might just take advantage of the excitement of this ball to launch a sneak attack and take my life."
Hermione was about to explain when she suddenly heard a sharp "snap," and a cloud of white smoke rose up, revealing a house-elf with pointed ears and big eyes.
The house-elf rushed to Hermione's side, tiptoed, and whispered in her ear.
"Miss Granger, Mr. Grindelwald wants you to go to the usual place. He says he's found the thing—"
Hermione's eyes flashed upon hearing this, and she immediately forgot all the words she had just exchanged with Harry.
Hermione glanced up at the clock on the wall, her mind made up. She shoved Crookshank into Ron's arms and whispered, "Crookshank is yours, and Harry is yours too."
"Make him remove his knife and sword!"
She then turned to Harry, smiling broadly, and said, "I have some personal business to attend to, but don't worry, I won't be late. Let's meet at the Great Hall entrance."
After saying that, he placed his hand on the top of the house-elf's head, and with a crisp "snap," the two of them turned into wisps of white smoke and disappeared.
Ron stood frozen in place, holding Crookshank, staring wide-eyed at the cat, his dough twitching involuntarily.
What's going on—you've left everything to me—
It's much easier to just find a dance partner!
Ron muttered a few complaints to himself, then clung tightly to Crookshank and walked side-by-side with Harry toward the Great Hall.
Along the way, he used all his words, talking until his throat was dry, to finally persuade Harry to take off his armor.
As the saying goes, "Where there's a will, there's a way." Harry taught him the phrase, "If anything is wrong, I'll be the first to notice," which convinced him to hand over all his swords and arm guards.
Ron breathed a sigh of relief as he held the three magical artifacts in his arms.
As the two approached the auditorium, they saw a surging crowd of students rushing into the hall like a swarm of locusts crossing a river.
Harry stopped in his tracks, his tiger-like eyes scanning the surroundings. He quickly spotted the other warriors already waiting in the dimly lit area.
Cedric, dressed in a sharp suit, and Cho Chang, in a silk cheongsam, were a perfect match.
Krum and Fleur were surrounded by students from other schools, making it difficult to recognize them clearly.
The lotus stood proudly on the stone steps, her silver hair pulled back into a bun. She wore a semi-transparent silver gauze robe, with a crescent-shaped cut at the chest, perfectly outlining her slender figure.
She looked down at the crowd below, exuding an extraordinary aura.
Although her dance partner was also dressed in fine clothes, he only stared at her with a dazed look, not like a good companion, but more like a servant.
"Oh, Potter! I've finally found you!"
Just as they were observing, a shout suddenly rang out. Professor McGonagall, wearing a scarlet checkered cloak with a thistle wreath tucked askew under the brim of his hat, came rushing over.
He grabbed Harry's wrist and pulled him to the side of the warriors, instructing him, "After all the students have entered the Great Hall, you must line up at the entrance."
"When the doors open, you will enter one by one and then lead the dance."
"Do you understand?"
After Professor McGonagall finished giving his instructions, the four warriors all nodded in acceptance.
Just as she was about to turn around, she suddenly caught sight of Ron tightly embracing Crookshank, and her eyes widened in surprise. "Well, Mr. Weasley, I really didn't expect you to choose a cat as your dance partner."
Ron was stunned. "What? I'm not a 99?"
Before he could finish speaking, McGonagall pushed him toward the auditorium.
"Come on, son, you and Filch must have a lot in common."
The students made their way to the Great Hall, while Fleur lowered her eyes, glanced at Harry, and asked with a half-smile, "Where's your dance partner, Mr. Potter?"
"Is she too shy to come?"
Harry glanced at her sideways and sneered, "I haven't even spoken yet, and you're already mimicking the tone of a eunuch urging me to leave."
These words struck her like a steel needle piercing her face, leaving her delicate features pale and frosty. Her dance partner, however, remained lost in thought, gazing at her as if she hadn't heard a word.
Seeing the tension rising, Cedric coughed twice and stepped forward to mediate.
"I think Hermione must have encountered something urgent?"
"Harry, I'll go with you to find her."
Upon hearing this, Harry recalled how Hermione had been getting up at dawn every day and putting on makeup in front of the mirror every night for the ball, even neglecting her usual favorite spells and martial arts.
Suppressing his displeasure, he clasped his hands in a fist and said to Cedric, "No need for you to trouble yourself, brother. I will go and wait for you."
Having said that, he strode off towards the castle gate.
Fu Rong snorted coldly, "I think she just doesn't dare to come."
Her dance partner simply nodded adoringly. "Yes, Miss Delacour, you are the most dazzling person tonight."
Harry stood on the stone steps and waited for about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, but he saw that the number of students coming and going gradually decreased until there was no one left.
The faint sounds of string and wind instruments could be heard from inside the hall, but Hermione was nowhere to be seen.
Just as he was about to set off to find the person, he suddenly heard a series of soft laughs behind him, like the chirping of orioles.
"Oh dear, it seems you're missing a dance partner?"
"Huh? Harry?"
The voice sounded very familiar. When Harry turned around, he saw Rowena leaning against a porch pillar, arms crossed, smiling at him.
Harry was in a state of anxiety when he suddenly heard a heart-stirring laugh. The fragrance of orchids in the secluded valley reappeared, and doubts arose between them about life and death. Turning around, he was startled to see a familiar figure, realizing that the past and present separated their affections. Who would have thought that his mentor was here again, leaning against the carved railing like a celestial being. But how did Rowena come to the present? Let's find out in the next chapter.