December brought howling winds and sleet to Hogwarts. Orli was still struggling between her schoolwork and the Horcrux hunt. The essays Snape assigned her grew longer and longer, while Ravenclaw's diadem remained frustratingly elusive. All she remembered was that the diadem sat near a cabinet—inside which was a cage, and within that cage, a five-legged skeleton. The Room of Requirement contained exactly 1,376 cabinets of various shapes and sizes. She'd already searched through 789 of them with nothing to show for it. The toll was brutal: she'd nearly vomited 87 times, been attacked by bizarre magical contraptions 12 times, and once nearly fainted from exhaustion.
Beyond that, she had to monitor all the staff for suspicious behavior. Moody still seemed perfectly ordinary—just a retired Auror with typical paranoia and excessive vigilance. The other professors were even less noteworthy; most had been teaching for years, and if any were acting strangely, students would've noticed long ago.
She'd wanted to keep tabs on Karkaroff as well, but the brutal weather kept him and most Durmstrang students confined to their ship. The great vessel rocked and pitched in the fierce winds, its black sails whipping through the dark night sky like restless spirits. If Karkaroff harbored secret plans at Hogwarts, surely he'd find excuses to venture out more—but he wasn't.
Meanwhile, Hagrid and Madame Maxime seemed quite cozy. He constantly supplied her magnificent winged horses with their favorite single-malt whisky. The alcohol's pungent aroma wafted from the feed troughs in the temporary stables, leaving the Care of Magical Creatures students pleasantly light-headed.
After Care of Magical Creatures came Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall had to rap her wand sharply against the lectern to drag everyone's attention back to reality. Harry and Ron were dueling in the back row with two fake wands invented by Fred and George—Ron wielded a tin-plated parrot while Harry brandished a rubber haddock.
"Potter and Weasley, would you kindly behave your age?" Professor McGonagall snapped, shooting them both withering glares. At that precise moment, Harry's rubber fish lost its head, which dropped soundlessly to the floor.
"I have an announcement for all of you." McGonagall continued, her voice cutting through the residual chatter. "The Yule Ball is approaching—a traditional component of the Triwizard Tournament and an excellent opportunity to socialize with our foreign guests. The Ball is restricted to fourth-years and above, though you may invite younger students as your partners—"
Lavender Brown dissolved into giggles. Parvati Patil elbowed her sharply, though her own face twitched as she fought back laughter. Both girls turned to stare at Harry.
Orli groaned inwardly. She'd completely forgotten—she needed dress robes!
"The Ball will commence at eight o'clock on Christmas evening in the Great Hall and conclude at midnight. Now listen carefully—" Professor McGonagall's stern gaze swept across the classroom. "This does not mean we're relaxing our behavioral standards for Hogwarts students. Should any Gryffindor bring shame upon this school in any manner, I shall be profoundly disappointed."
The bell chimed. Students stuffed books into bags and slung them over shoulders in the usual post-class chaos.
Professor McGonagall raised her voice above the din: "Potter—remain behind, please. I need a word."
Harry trudged toward the front desk looking thoroughly miserable. Hermione, Orli, and Ron waited in the corridor. Within minutes, he emerged, face still flushed pink.
"Did she dock points? For the fake wands?" Ron asked anxiously.
"What? Oh, no." Harry stared fixedly at a wall sconce, his voice hoarse. "She said champions must have dance partners." He swallowed hard. "And apparently... we have to lead the opening dance."
――――――――
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
The story isn't over...
🤔 Want to know what happens next to the characters?
🤫 Eager to explore the untold secrets of this world?
✍️ Ready to read more of my wildest stories?
✨patreon.com/DarkGolds