Percy's words about wanting to investigate froze on his lips.
More precisely, almost everyone in the Great Hall was speechless.
Beneath the azure sky, a beautiful figure appeared.
To be honest, Hogwarts uniforms weren't ugly.
But they didn't do much to flatter the figure, and aside from the four Houses' signature colors and badges, they were simply plain black.
Now, however, a hint of pale purple had appeared among all that black.
The long dress looked quite expensive, enchanted to shimmer with flowing light.
And the girl wearing it was astonishingly beautiful.
Gemma had clearly gone to great lengths to dress up.
Her face was small enough to fit in one hand, with a blend of steely confidence and gentle beauty. Her thin lips were painted pink.
A few braids, adorned with delicate silver ornaments, were woven through her loose chestnut hair.
Her exposed skin was snow-white. Her slender neck, arms, and shapely hands were even more captivating than the enchanted gown.
Her collarbones, knees, elbows, arches, toes... all were a delicate, lovely shade of pale pink.
As she walked, her straight, fair legs seemed to ripple with a watery sheen.
When such a beauty came to stand beside Harry, even Hermione began to feel ashamed of her own appearance.
Harry, however, frowned. "Why go to so much trouble getting dressed up? I could just punch you instead."
He was telling the truth. The shining long table beneath his elbow and the gleaming floor were both the work of his Super Cleaning Fist.
Used on people, it became a super makeup technique.
Even the Bronze-grade makeup technique he'd drawn from Lockhart couldn't compare.
The wax he applied wasn't real wax, but a kind of magical coating.
In fact, Ron had gotten into the habit of deliberately rubbing against the wax whenever Harry used his Cleaning Fist.
Hermione was secretly delighted to hear Harry speak that way.
Could Harry be turning her down because of me? That old woman's bound to be angry. I wouldn't be.
Gemma didn't get angry. Usually so cool and distant, she spoke with rare gentleness. "That light only shines under lamps and stands out during the day. We're going on our date at seven, in the evening."
Hermione, who had been feeling down, was overjoyed.
I know the truth about the date, and she doesn't. I win!
"I can add a little light. What could possibly be inconvenient about my fist?" Harry raised his fist, which was half the size of Gemma's head. "It's not a harsh light, but Morning Sun—soft without being weak, bright without being harsh. It's not just pretty; it can also drive away dark creatures."
Harry's answer thrilled Hermione even more. She began imagining his huge fist landing on Gemma's hateful face.
Seeing Hermione tremble, Draco asked, "Granger, what's wrong? If you've caught a cold, you can ask Madam Pomfrey for a Pepperup Potion."
"No need. I have the Healing and Disease-Curing Fist for curing illnesses, too."
Hermione came to her senses, only to find the imagined huge fist right in front of her. But instead of backing away, she leaned forward and spoke in a voice as faint as a mosquito's buzz. "I... I can take it."
She even wore a blissful expression.
"I can take it, too."
This buck-toothed girl is a formidable rival!
Gemma, who had previously only paid attention to Tonks, looked at Hermione seriously for the first time.
Harry gave them both two quick punches.
Hermione's spirits soared. She immediately opened her bag and began taking notes.
Hogwarts' second top student was on the move!
Gemma shone brilliantly, even in the dim corridor, radiating an aura like someone resting by a lake on a spring day, undisturbed by insects, with only a gentle breeze and soft sunlight.
But to some older Slytherins who had studied Dark Magic, she was like a vampire in the shadows seeing the sun. They hurriedly shrank back.
"Ah, great and ever-victorious king." "Even the faint light you bestow can drive away the walking corpses of darkness."
"We lowly creatures crawling upon the earth." "Might Fred and I share in your glory?"
Fred and George appeared from who knew where, speaking in exaggerated, declamatory tones.
[Twin Jesters wish to bask in the glory of the great Savior. Please grant them this honor! Reward: 1 experience point.]
Harry immediately gave them two quick punches.
"Ah, George, I'm glowing!" "Great Lord of Light, would you indulge your faithful followers' curiosity?"
"You and the Night Goddess." "Where are you headed?"
Fred and George had finally revealed what they really wanted to know.
Gemma's outfit had already given away that she and Harry were leaving Hogwarts for a date that day.
In fact, it wasn't just the two of them. Everyone in the Great Hall wanted to know where Harry and Gemma were going.
Would they go to the mysterious Bania Black Forest?
Or the Castelobruxo School of Magic, deep in the tropical rainforest?
"We'll have to ask Dumbledore," Gemma said. "Harry asked the headmaster to prepare a mysterious date location for us. I don't know where we're going yet, either."
"I don't know where we're going yet, either?"
After Gemma left, Hermione snapped her book shut and, wearing a gloomy expression, imitated Gemma's tone.
"You just—" Ron started to say, but Draco nudged him with his elbow and stopped him with a look.
Anyone could see that Hermione partly wanted to use the opportunity to study, and partly didn't want to watch Gemma, who was even more dazzling and seemingly flawless.
"Why don't we go see Hagrid?"
Draco suggested it because he wanted to see the Dragon egg again.
Perhaps because its name also included the word "Dragon," he was obsessed with Fire Dragons.
"Rubeus, give it another push! Hurry! I can't wait!"
"Professor Kettleburn, me too! One more log!"
At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, in a clearing deep inside it,
a white-haired old man, missing all but his right hand and left leg, waved his wand with a cheerful expression.
With every wave, the logs piled up in front of him flew up and planted themselves in the earth.
The tall Half-blood Giant worked up a sweat as he secured arm-thick logs with hemp rope and hammered their tops into place, apparently building a fence.
Just five minutes later,
a circular fence—or, more accurately, a two-meter-high wooden wall large enough to hold a basketball court—was complete.
The wall was solid, light-tight, and neatly built. It was hard to imagine it had been put up in such a hurry.
But Hagrid was still dissatisfied. "Isn't this too small? Norbert's going to live here."
The old man, wearing movable wooden prosthetics, shook his head. "You need to trust Dumbledore's magic. This is only a temporary home for that youngster while he goes through his rebellious teenage phase."
"A Fire Dragon... right here at Hogwarts. I'll never have to run off to the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary whenever I get a spare moment again."
Like Hagrid, this old man—Silvanus Kettleburn, the current Care of Magical Creatures professor—was also a reckless enthusiast of dangerous Fantastic Beasts.
But he didn't have Newt's gift for handling them or Hagrid's physique.
As a result, he set the record for the most probationary periods during his teaching career: sixty-two. He'd nearly burned down the Great Hall with an Ashwinder and was constantly getting seriously injured.
In the end, he was left with only one hand and one leg.
Even so, he hadn't changed his ways.
Not long ago, a Welsh Green Dragon had burned his wooden prosthetic, and he'd had to ask Dumbledore to make him another one.
"Where's Hagrid?"
Outside the tightly shut wooden cabin, Draco kept knocking. The only sounds from inside were Fang's excited barking and the crackling of burning wood.
"Did he leave it inside and go off on his own?"
"Don't worry, that egg won't hatch for at least another week. I, the great Ron, swear on Fred's life."
Seeing how excited Draco was, Ron hurried to reassure him.
Crack—!
A crisp sound of a shell breaking came from the cabin, followed by Fang's frightened barking.
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