The Lively Halloween Masquerade

Gemma's appearance drew nearly everyone's gaze.

It wasn't because her clothing was revealing—in fact, she was rather conservative.

It was just...

Harry, surrounded by admirers, was also playing a centaur, holding a book, elegant and gentle.

At the same time, his upper body was nearly bare, wrapped only in moon-white silk, with a Harden Horn Lyre slung across his back. His muscles, perfect as a David sculpture, seemed to glow in the candlelight, radiating warmth.

It was the perfect union of strength and beauty, wildness and grace.

He looked as if Chiron himself, the mentor of demigod heroes in Greek mythology, had descended.

"He shines brighter than James," sighed Sirius, dressed as an authentic werewolf.

"And who's that?" Lupin, also in werewolf attire and finally willing to come to Hogwarts at Sirius's urging, immediately noticed Tonks.

"Her? My grand-niece, one of Harry's admirers."

"Harry?" Lupin's eyes instantly cleared.

"Hello, Harry Potter."

Centaur Gemma extended her right hand, using the same tone she had when greeting Harry for the first time.

"A hand like that is clearly not meant for drawing a bow," fairy Hermione nitpicked.

"So..." Gemma directly placed her hand on Harry's shoulder, sliding it down along the contour of the Harden Horn Lyre. "Can we trade? My bow for—"

"No!" Hermione blushed and shoved Gemma away directly.

"Sure," Harry countered instantly.

His fingers struck the strings, and with a long, resonant note, the lyre and bow swapped places.

Gemma lowered her head to tidy the tea-colored short hair at her temples, blushing as she felt the lingering warmth of Harry on the Harden Horn Lyre.

Hermione, completely unaware of Gemma's little move, looked around like a victor, her confidence soaring after "successfully" stopping an annoying older woman from getting close to Harry.

The next moment, she narrowed her eyes.

Another "older woman" was coming.

"Hello, Harry." Tonks had added black fur, but her tight outfit, resembling black velvet, accentuated her curves even more, seductive and alluring.

She looked down, casting a smug glance at Hermione's flat chest.

"How's my Halloween makeup magic?"

"Your Metamorphmagus talent combined with this spell is already flawless."

Harry's words instantly lifted Hermione's spirits.

—I knew it, all that annoying extra flesh was fake, conjured up!

Hermione raised an eyebrow, sweeping a "you know what I mean" look over Tonks's chest.

Tonks just found it baffling.

"Alright, everyone."

Dumbledore, who had given himself a pair of golden-red phoenix wings and wore feathered robes, stood up.

"I'm delighted that everyone has joined Hogwarts's first Halloween Costume Ball!"

The four long tables in the hall had been temporarily removed, replaced by a massive stage shrouded in magical light and many small round tables.

On the small tables were menus; just think of a dish's name, and it would appear.

"Now... I will call out each name according to the registration list."

"Those called, please step onto the stage. The judges, including myself, will give fair scores!"

"Minerva McGonagall?"

Dumbledore checked the list again, suspecting he had misread.

Just as the crowd was about to jeer, Fred and George, dressed in feathered robes like Dumbledore, with pink Augurey costumes and pink-dyed hair, were also left speechless, momentarily lost for words.

"This is a rare opportunity. Every participant has the right to let their hair down and relax." Professor McGonagall, now sporting silver tabby cat ears and a tail under the spotlight, raised a furry little paw.

She walked to the center of the stage.

"Undoubtedly, Gryffindor-style courage," Dumbledore praised. "However, for fairness, I can only give you a 7."

He raised his scorecard. "7 is the most magical number, isn't it?"

Voldemort, who had just returned from Little Hangleton, twitched.

[Ding ding ding! [Voldemort's Alert · Continued]]

[Dumbledore's cryptic hint and the disappearance of Slytherin's Locket have put Voldemort on alert again. Find Hufflepuff's Cup within four school years.]

—Haki-Voldy, why the hell are you triggered again!

—Four school years, and the cup is hidden even more carefully?

Under Harry's speechless gaze, Quirrell, dressed as a snowman, had just stepped into the Great Hall before hurrying back out again.

"I'm with Professor Dumbledore." Harry raised his scorecard.

"Same here." x n

Drop the highest score, drop the lowest, then take the average—

Well, no need at all; Professor McGonagall's score was already out.

Seven.

"Severus Snape!"

"No, I never signed up!"

Bathed in the spotlight, the vampire Snape, finally restored to his younger, paler complexion, roared.

Well, he'd barely worn any makeup at all.

Just fake fangs, but paired with his usual all-black attire, it was almost a perfect score.

The spotlight's focus made up for his last, no, second-to-last flaw.

His greasy black hair still hung stubbornly like curtains on either side.

"It's you!"

Sirius laughed so wildly that Snape caught on to the truth.

"Yes, it's me, Nose—, well, Snape."

"Oh, having another wolf cub around gives you a bit more confidence? Right, you've always ganged up on others."

Snape refused to step onto the stage, just kept spewing venom at Sirius.

Dumbledore simply raised his scorecard—six.

Harry and the other professors followed suit with their scores.

"Next." Dumbledore couldn't wait to move things along. "Filius Flitwick?"

The spotlight finally left Snape, who was about to lunge at Sirius, and landed on a bare tabletop?

"I'm right here." Dressed as a Gringotts goblin, equally half-hearted with just a costume change and a few small details, but with flawless execution, Professor Flitwick climbed onto his cushion.

"Sorry, I got too excited and fell off."

"Could it be that all of you signed up, and I'm the only one who didn't?" Dumbledore looked at the other staff.

"I didn't, Professor Dumbledore." Though a Squib, Filch, turned into a zombie with Harry's help, shook his head.

"I didn't either, Professor." Hagrid, who'd wanted to turn into a dragon like Draco but had low completion—only managing wings and a tail—shook his head.

"I didn't either." Professor Sprout shook her head, which was a bubble-pod plant, popping out a few purple beans that looked like they were wrapped in jelly.

One of them landed right in the throat of the laughing Sirius, and Snape seized the moment to elbow him in the gut.

"Separate!"

Dumbledore quickly cast a spell to pull them apart.

"Six points." He then raised his scorecard.

The lively feast let Harry temporarily forget his worries, and he threw himself into it for once.

Especially since not every student's Halloween costume magic was that perfect.

Niffler Seamus's pocket exploded, leaving him in his underwear.

Hufflepuff's Justin Finch-Fletchley was too obsessed with perfection, adding too many decorative details; before he even reached the stage, his griffin's rear end started falling apart.

Fred and George were in the middle of their performance, trying to score points, when Fred's bird beak and George's tail feathers began to fall off, ending in a comical reveal of wrinkled, chicken-like skin with only a few stray feathers.

But Harry believed they did it on purpose.

"Marcus Flint!"

—Now that was a real troll!

Harry's eyes were full of anticipation.