Christmas Holidays of 1994

"Password, darling."

"Light of Wonderland".

"Oh, right, darling~"

The Fat Lady smoothed the gold and silver ribbons on the newly painted headdress, put away her trembling soprano voice, and opened the stone door to the Portrait Hole for Loren.

Upon entering the Common Room, Loren looked around and was surprised to see Ron sitting in a corner at a distance, his face ashen. Hermione, Ginny, and Harry sat beside him, speaking to him in low voices as if to comfort him.

"It's alright, Ron, it's alright..."

"Don't think about it, please don't think about it..."

Loren walked over to them and asked curiously, "What's wrong, Ron?"

Ron looked up at him, his face showing a lingering sense of shock. He mumbled, "I don't know how I could have done that. Why did I do it..."

"What?"

Ron didn't answer, burying his face in his hands as if he were ashamed to face anyone.

Ginny patted Ron's arm sympathetically, seemingly struggling to suppress her laughter, her expression barely concealing it. "He... cough, he just invited Phoebe Delacour to the Yule Ball with him."

"You've got guts, Ron. No wonder you're Gryffindor."

"Oh, stop talking, I don't know how I could have done such a thing!"

Ron sobbed and buried his head even lower. "What am I talking about? There were people everywhere, a huge crowd. I must have lost my mind. Everyone was watching... I saw her in the Great Hall. She was standing there talking to Gabrielle. They were both so charming, and I just couldn't control myself, so I went up to her and asked her..."

Loren smiled and looked at Hermione and Harry beside him, "What did she say?"

Harry shook his head, Hermione shrugged, both indicating that they were not present.

"Oh, she didn't say anything. She just stood there looking at me like I was a sea cucumber."

"And then what did you do?"

"What else could I do but run?" Ron groaned, covering his face with his hands. "I'm not cut out for this, guys. I don't know what's wrong with me. I always see them from behind..."

"That's because she has some Veela blood," Harry said with a smile, trying to comfort her. "Her grandmother was Veela, and even Fire Dragon couldn't take their eyes off her. It's not your fault. I dare say she was casting that spell on someone else at the time, and you just happened to be there and got hit..."

Ron stopped sobbing and seemed to be feeling better.

"Speaking of which, I've been wanting to ask this for a while now..." Loren looked at Harry and Ginny, whose expressions were contorted from trying to suppress their laughter, and asked, "What's making you two laugh so happily?"

Ron lifted his head from his palm, his expression a mixture of disbelief and hope.

Harry and Ginny met eyes, their expressions a little awkward. Ginny grabbed Harry's hand, tilted her head back proudly, and said, "We're dance partners!"

Ron was struck dumb, groaned, and buried his head again.

The following morning, the term officially ended, and Hogwarts entered the Christmas holiday.

In previous years, only a very small number of students stayed on campus, but this year is different. It seems that all the students above the fourth grade are staying, and everyone is very excited about the upcoming Yule Ball.

Even more unexpectedly, the four Head of House gathered their students together for a dance lesson unlike any other.

Transfiguration classroom.

All the tables and chairs were moved to the wall, making the room feel more spacious. In the center stood a low coffee table with a purple trumpet-shaped gramophone on it, which was even taller Hagrid.

Crookshanks and Mrs. Norris lay on the coffee table, their little paws tucked under their bodies, blinking at the little wizards sitting on either side of them.

"The Yule Ball is a tradition."

Professor McGonagall, dressed in a pure black robe and still with her hair neatly styled in a topknot, spoke with a hint of amusement and a much lighter tone than usual:

"It's a tradition that's been in place since the start of the Goblet of Fire Triwizard Tournament. It's held on Christmas Eve, and we and our guests gather in the Great Hall to celebrate..."

"Everyone should maintain their composure while enjoying themselves. As representatives of the host school, I hope each of you will present your best self. I say this because the most important thing about the Yule Ball is—"

Professor McGonagall paused for a moment, then gave a faint smile, "Dance."

"This is really unexpected, isn't it?"

George teased them, making the young wizards laugh.

Loren turned his head and whispered in Hermione's ear, "I actually want to go to the Potions Master classroom to see how Professor Snape teaches dance."

Hermione pictured that gloomy face and couldn't help but smile.

"Quiet!" Professor McGonagall's voice silencing the murmurs in the classroom. "Gryffindor House is revered in the Wizarding World for nearly a thousand years, and I will not allow you to tarnish its reputation overnight. Stop chattering, jumping around, and making a spectacle of yourselves at the Yule Ball..."

Professor McGonagall gently swayed her arms. "Dancing is about making the body move. Every girl has a swan sleeping in her heart, yearning to burst forth with passion and take flight. Every boy has a lion eager to try its luck in his heart."

"Mr. Weasley".

Upon hearing the voice, Ron instinctively looked at George and Fred, only to find them looking at him as well. He turned back to meet Professor McGonagall's gaze and stammered, "What?"

"Please come up here, okay?"

"Now please put your right hand on my waist."

"Mr. Filch, music."

Ron was invited onto the stage by the professor in a daze, and he went along with the dance instruction in a daze.

Gradually, a question arose in his mind:

Why am I dancing the women's steps?

Before he could figure it out, Professor McGonagall had already pulled him up and made him jump:

"One, two, three, one, two, one, two, three... Children, let's all do it together..."

While the young wizards were still hesitating, Loren extended his hand to the girl beside him. "Miss Granger, may I invite you to dance?"

Hermione endured her roommate's teasing gaze, a smile playing on her lips. She casually placed her hand on his shoulder, her slight shyness becoming part of her smile.

"Your dancing skills have improved a lot since summer vacation. I hope no one has been secretly practicing?" Hermione said softly to him, who was standing right next to her.

"He has exceptional talent and doesn't need to practice."

"Oh..."

A light dance tune rang out from the old gramophone horn, the soft and bright sound of the violin's bowstrings and the deep, steady hum of the French horn drifted out of the Castle through the window and into the cotton-covered sky.

At the platform outside the school, the whistle sounded, and the red carriages of the Hogwarts Express disappeared into the white snowscape, leaving behind a mist of white steam and the reluctant gazes of the young wizards.