The walls of the hall were covered with shimmering silver frost, and the ceiling displayed a starry night sky, adorned with hundreds of mistletoe sprigs and ivy garlands.
The four house tables were gone, replaced by hundreds of small tables illuminated by lanterns, each seating about ten people.
The champions approached the head table, where Dumbledore was smiling happily, and Kakaroff was doing the same, his teeth's black stains more noticeable.
Ludo Bagman was wearing a bright purple robe tonight, with big yellow stars printed on it, and he was clapping enthusiastically along with the students.
Mrs. Maxim had shed her usual black satin uniform and donned a flowing lavender gown.
Harry sat down next to Victor, feeling a bit hungry.
He wasn't too concerned about where those three dance partners had gone; he just wanted to get something to eat.
"Hey," Victor suddenly whispered.
Harry turned his head, looking at Victor in confusion.
"Where's your date?" Victor mumbled with a nasal accent, emphasizing every "O" heavily.
"Probably dealing with something urgent," Harry said nonchalantly, then in a low voice asked, "Instead of worrying about where they are, I'm more interested in how I can get some food? Gosh, I'm starving, and the kitchen isn't preparing any food for us..."
But Victor keenly grasped the key point in Harry's words.
Them?
Not her, but "them."
But out of the principle of not asking more than needed, Victor decided to wait and see.
Harry tugged at the sleeve of his dress, planning to figure out how to get some food for himself.
The golden plates were still empty, but each person had a small menu in front of them.
Harry boldly picked up his menu and looked around—there were no waiters. He saw Dumbledore carefully examine his menu, then clearly say to his plate, "Pork chops!"
Pork chops instantly appeared. The others at the table realized this and followed suit, ordering their favorite food for their plates.
"Roast chicken," Harry said, craving some roast chicken.
Immediately, a whole roasted chicken, already cut, appeared in front of him, accompanied by roasted mushrooms and potatoes, with a few bright red cherry tomatoes as garnish.
"Not bad," Harry said with a smile, picking up a fork to skewer a cherry tomato and popping it into his mouth.
The cooking was just right, not too overdone, sweet and tangy, perfect as a little appetizer before the meal.
...
Vivi's temporary office.
Before the Snake Mirror, Cassandra's ivory-white fingertips gently caressed the living silver snake clasp coiled on her corset.
This magical creature, taken from the Black Clan's dowry box, instantly raised its head, with emerald-embedded snake eyes shooting out two beams of eerie light, illuminating the dark green taffeta dress like the deep waters of the Black Lake.
"Purissimum sanguinem (Purest Blood)"
She raised her chin towards the mirror, tapping lightly with her fingertips on the whalebone skirt support.
As the spell sounded, seven invisible silver threads appeared on the dress—it was the emblems of the seven Pure-blood Clans allied with the Malfoys, now forming a flowing Mithril genealogy chart knitted into the Gothic script on the skirt.
This dress was left to her by her mother... secretly hidden in her treasury.
"Cassandra?"
Pabi's voice came from outside, and then the door was pushed open.
"Cassandra?" Pabi poked her head in, "The ball is about to start, aren't you going to the hall? Harry and the others should be about to start the first dance..."
"Grindelwald isn't going?" Cassandra asked nonchalantly, the silver snake accessory on her head gleaming.
"Oh," Pabi said, "She said in such an important occasion, you should be the first to appear—"
Cassandra was stunned.
Then, she let out a disdainful snort.
"Can I interpret this as the victor's charity?"
"Oh dear," Pabi squeezed in, sitting beside Cassandra, "How could it be any sort of charity? Rest assured, Vivi definitely didn't mean that..."
"Huh."
Cassandra stood up, reaching for the black cloak nearby.
With a flick, the cloak was draped over her back.
Pabi, in a daze, saw a line of silvery white small letters flash quickly on the cloak's lining.
"Sanctimonia Vincet Semper (Purity Always Wins)"
Only the Malfoy Clan, with their obsession over pure blood and purity...
"Let's go, don't keep Potter waiting," Cassandra said, holding her head high, like a proud swan, "I really don't want him crying at such an important occasion, do you agree, Swedding?"
"Call me Pabi," Pabi giggled, hugging Cassandra's arm.
In fact, when Cassandra heard Pabi say that, she really wanted to call her Pabi.
But she suddenly felt a softness on her arm, and when she looked down, her previously decent mood seemed suddenly shattered.
"Huh," she whispered, "Pervert."
"Ah! You're so mean!" Pabi said indignantly, "How am I a pervert? Where, where, where?"
"Everywhere," Cassandra huffed, striding towards the hall.
In the hall, Harry was feasting, having already demolished an entire roasted chicken, and now tackling a steak.
Victor seemed not very interested in conversation, at least not with the girl beside him.
He kept trying to engage Harry, but Harry always managed to find the right opportunity to divert the conversation.
Like a slippery eel.
Meanwhile, Fleur Delacour was criticizing Hogwarts' decor to Roger Davies.
"It's nothing," she said, disdainfully glancing at the starlit walls around the hall, "In Beauxbatons Castle, during Christmas, our hall is filled with ice sculptures. Of course, they don't melt... they're like giant diamond statues, sparkling in the hall. The food is superb. We even have the Mountain Fairy Choir serenading us as we dine. We don't have those ugly armors by the walls, and any prankster ghost who dares invade Beauxbatons would surely be thrown out, just like this."
She impatiently slapped the table.
Roger Davies watched her speak, with a captivated expression on his face, and several times clumsily missing his mouth with his fork.
Harry thought Davies was so fixated on Fleur that he didn't even comprehend what she was saying.
"Absolutely!" Davies hurriedly responded, mimicking Fleur as he slapped the table, "Just like that—Peeves is really annoying."
Harry thought to himself, you're the annoying one. You've just met Fleur and you're already criticizing the school with her, you're truly someone who stands by the saying 'milk is for the one who nurtures you.'
When he heard Fleur extending her critique to the Gryffindors, Harry suddenly cut in on her sharp commentary.
"I think Hogwarts is quite nice, at least it is for us," he said, "Everyone has different aesthetics, and I hope you can focus on appreciating beauty rather than nitpicking at this ancient castle."
"Are you suggesting I shouldn't point out Hogwarts Castle's flaws?" Fleur asked irritably.
"Oh, not at all," Harry chuckled, "I'm merely suggesting, as finding beauty is a strength, while finding flaws is not."
With Harry's words, Fleur felt momentarily speechless.
But she quickly adjusted, raising her proud head once again.
"You're right," she said, "I am indeed good at finding beauty, but haven't found a girl more beautiful than me at Hogwarts."
She truly meant what she said, as if stating a fact.
Victor opened his mouth, saying nothing; his Ravenclaw partner looked resentful yet held her peace, because...
When it comes to beauty, Fleur was unmatched—intimidatingly so.
As Harry was about to say something, a sudden gasp erupted in the hall.
Fleur instinctively looked up, realizing her bold claim had just been contradicted.
Standing at the hall entrance was an elegantly dressed girl.
Though Fleur didn't know who this woman was, she could tell from the other's attire that this was a beauty from Slytherin.