In the brightly lit ballroom, both sides were covered with fresh flowers. A huge blue crystal chandelier hung overhead, matched by the gleaming floor and the low-hanging velvet blue veils around the hall, making everything look dreamlike. The ceiling had been enchanted with the same starry-sky illusion as the Perception Room in Harris Tower and the ceiling of the Ravenclaw common room. Countless stars revolved in the dark night, with shooting stars streaking by now and then, giving the entire ballroom a hazy, fantastical glow.
A goblin band appeared on the stage and struck up a clear, cheerful dance tune.
The wizards began waving their wands, aiming above the heads of Albert and Fleur as they walked toward the center of the dance floor. A great swath of silver stars fell over them, circling the bodies they now held tightly together.
Unlike the luncheon earlier, which had been somewhat too formal and carried a faintly oppressive air, the atmosphere now turned cheerful. Many people applauded, and the balloons floating over their heads burst open: birds of paradise and little golden bells flew out from inside, hovering in midair, adding birdsong and chiming bells to the hall's din.
Many wizards began inviting their female companions to join the sea-like dance floor. They were like countless interwoven streaks of rainbow-shadow; the hems of the ladies' skirts swirled and fluttered, while the heels of the gentlemen's leather shoes struck crisp notes against the smooth floor—Anka the phoenix, perched on a relief carving, shook its bird head and looked around. Not seeing Allen, it seemed a little dejected. Having gone several days without dancing with Allen in phoenix form, it developed a thought amid the atmosphere of human music: How could I, Anka, not wish to become a great dancer? Then, as if a