"No, I'm not pleased at all!" Argus Filch shouted, though the smug look on his face completely contradicted his words. "You're in trouble! The Headmaster made it clear—no wandering the corridors at night without permission… isn't that right?"
As he spoke, Filch glanced down at the parchment register in his hand. "Draco Malfoy, correct? It says here you applied to go home for the Christmas holidays, yet you've returned early without authorization… Ha! That's another charge to add!"
"It's quite all right, Argus, quite all right!" Horace Slughorn waved a dismissive hand. "It's Christmas. Wanting to attend a party isn't a crime. We'll overlook it this once—no repeat offenses, mind you. Draco, you may stay."
Filch's expression of outrage and disappointment was indescribable, but he ultimately let it go.
Malfoy visibly relaxed. He quickly arranged a polite smile and thanked Professor Slughorn for his generosity.
At the same time, his eyes were already searching the crowd impatiently.
...
"That's Draco. Why's he back at school?" Blaise Zabini muttered, frowning within the Slytherin circle.
Gregory Goyle looked equally surprised, hastily slipping something into his pocket.
When Draco Malfoy had left school not long ago, he had warned Goyle that if anything "unexpected" happened on campus, he was to contact him through their private method of communication.
So after being startled by the sudden return of his "bro," Christopher Patrick, Goyle had immediately sent word to Malfoy.
What he hadn't expected was that less than fifteen minutes later, Malfoy would rush all the way from Malfoy Manor back to Hogwarts—and even get caught by Filch while sneaking into Slughorn's Christmas party.
"Draco, here—sit," Goyle said quickly, making space for him.
"Merry Christmas, Draco," Blaise Zabini added coolly. "Heard your father escaped Azkaban. Congratulations, I suppose."
Malfoy ignored him. Leaning close to Goyle, he whispered hoarsely, "You said Christopher's back? Where is he?"
"Over there—at that table!" Goyle pointed toward the long table near the front. "Do you see him?"
Malfoy stared intently at Christopher's familiar face for a moment before asking in a low voice, "Who's the old man beside him? The one who looks so coarse."
"That's Winston Vance, the Headmaster of Durmstrang," Goyle grinned. "Strange for the headmaster of Durmstrang to show up at Hogwarts for Christmas, isn't it?"
"The Headmaster of Durmstrang…" Draco Malfoy's expression grew eerily calm. His clenched fists trembled almost imperceptibly.
"What are you doing, Draco?" Crabbe quickly grabbed him as he made a move toward the table.
"I need to speak to Christopher… It's important," Malfoy rasped.
"Wait! That table's full of Slughorn's honored guests. If you offend them, he might throw you out again," Goyle warned hurriedly. "And the dance starts in fifteen minutes. You can talk to him then."
...
"Three more little troublemakers trying to sneak into the party—running about the castle at night!" Filch exclaimed excitedly outside Slughorn's office. "This time I doubt the professor will be so forgiving!"
"We need to see Dumbledore—" Ron Weasley began loudly.
Ginny quickly cut him off and pulled out an invitation. "We were invited by Slughorn."
"Me too," Harry Potter added, producing his own invitation.
After confirming both were genuine, Filch's expression turned deeply disappointed.
He glanced at Ron, who had not produced an invitation.
"He's my date," Ginny said calmly. "May we go in now?"
Finally past Filch, the three hurried into Slughorn's office.
The party was in full swing, and few noticed their entrance.
They soon spotted Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom seated near the door and made their way over quietly.
"Harry… Ron… and… Ginny?" Hermione said in astonishment. "How is this possible? Weren't you spending Christmas at Grimmauld Place?"
"Grimmauld Place was attacked by a group of mysterious people," Ginny explained, as both boys struggled to catch their breath. "The Order of the Phoenix suffered heavy losses. We were transferred to Hogwarts. We heard Professor Dumbledore was here at Slughorn's party, so we rushed over to warn him."
Hermione looked shaken but quickly regained her composure. "Was it a Death Eater attack?"
"No… not Death Eaters," Harry said between breaths. "Something more mysterious. Where is Professor Dumbledore? I need to tell him—"
"He left over an hour ago. Right when the party began," Hermione said, shaking her head.
"That's exactly when the attack happened," Harry said grimly, clenching his fists.
His voice carried farther than he intended.
"Well, well—look who's here! Oh, Harry, my boy!" Slughorn boomed. "I thought you'd declined my invitation! So you were merely late. Welcome, welcome, my little rascal!"
He strode over and seized Harry by the hand. "Come along—I'll introduce you to some of our other guests!"
"And welcome to you as well, Miss Weasley. That Bat-Bogey Hex you used on the train left quite an impression on me." Slughorn nodded at Ginny and Ron in turn. "And welcome to you too, Weatherby!"
Hermione took a deep breath and stood, moving to Harry's side.
"Say I'm your dance partner, Harry," she whispered as softly as possible, shooting Neville Longbottom an apologetic look.
"Miss Granger?" Slughorn looked momentarily puzzled.
"Hermione is my dance partner," Harry said quickly.
"Oh, splendid! Then you both come with me!" Slughorn beamed, apparently having forgotten that Hermione had arrived earlier with Neville Longbottom.
...
They took the last two empty seats at the long table nearest the front.
"Harry, allow me to introduce Eldred Worple—an old student of mine and author of Blood Brothers: My Life Amongst the Vampires…"
"…and here we have Barnabas Cuffe, editor of The Daily Prophet, also once my student…"
"…and of course Gwenog Jones, captain and Seeker of the Holyhead Harpies…"
Slughorn enthusiastically introduced each distinguished guest at the table to Harry.
Harry listened distractedly until Slughorn's attention drifted elsewhere.
"Hermione, what's going on?" he whispered.
"Look at the two people at the front right," Hermione replied gravely.
Harry looked up—and froze.
"Wait… that young man… it's Christopher!"
Harry remembered Christopher Patrick, the mysterious exchange student, very clearly.
And although Slughorn had just introduced every guest at the table, he had conspicuously skipped over Christopher and the old man beside him.
"Christopher… how could he…"
"It's not just Christopher," Hermione said, her voice trembling. "The man beside him is Winston Vance—the Headmaster of Durmstrang."
"The Headmaster of Durmstrang?" Harry felt his thoughts knotting in confusion.
"He's not only the headmaster," Hermione continued, taking a steadying breath. "He's also one of Gellert Grindelwald's most loyal followers."
"Harry, don't tell me you haven't heard that Grindelwald escaped."
"Grindelwald…" The name wasn't one Harry knew well, but from Hermione's tone alone, he could feel its weight.
"I have to speak to him," Hermione said, her resolve hardening again. "To Christopher Patrick. We'll find a chance when the Christmas dance begins."