Professor Flitwick was busy decorating the Great Hall's enormous Christmas tree, just as he did every year. The entire hall was ablaze with light and brimming with festive energy. The British students were in high spirits, hardly concerned about the specific holiday. For them, today meant the most lavish banquet Hogwarts hosted all year. Furthermore, tradition dictated that the Christmas feast be switched to a buffet style for the Yule Ball. It was a dream come true.
Everyone at Hogwarts was buzzing with excitement. The young witches and wizards eagerly tried on their attire, checking their appearances again and again. Especially Erwin's dance partners—all eight of them, each more nervous than the last. Hermione washed her hair three times just to ensure it was perfectly smooth, desperate to look her absolute best. The others were no different. Even Charlotte was missing; insiders revealed she had received several dresses and spent the entire day trying them on, searching for the perfect ensemble. The sheer effort expended was astounding.
As for Erwin, a simple flick of his wand transfigured his robes into a sharp purple tuxedo bearing the Cavendish family crest. It was undeniably convenient. Even the most ordinary tuxedo looked exceptionally elegant on Erwin. When a person's charisma reaches a certain level, it is no longer the clothes that elevate the man, but the man that elevates the clothes.
Currently, Erwin stood in Snape's office. His godfather wore a thunderous expression.
"Erwin, I am telling you again, I will not wear this," Snape growled.
Erwin remained unruffled, a polite smile on his face. "Godfather, just try it on. Please?"
Snape eyed the black suit Erwin held out with deep suspicion. He knew Erwin had spent a considerable sum having it custom-tailored to his exact measurements, yet he resisted. "Impossible. You know I won't wear this."
Erwin sighed dramatically and hung the suit back up. "This is a token of your godson's goodwill. If you intend to reject my feelings, so be it. I apologize for asking too much." He gestured to a box on the desk. "And this grooming set—since you dislike the Cavendish brand so much, please, just discard it. I'm sure you won't need it."
With that, Erwin turned and walked out. His retreating figure looked utterly dejected, like an abandoned creature.
Snape opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, and bit his tongue. By the time he gathered his thoughts, Erwin was gone. The door clicked shut. Immediately, Erwin straightened his posture. That performance had been superb. He wondered if it would actually work on Snape. He genuinely wanted to see his godfather relax for once.
Inside the office, Snape stared at the suit on the hanger, then at the closed door. He gritted his teeth. "No. Absolutely not."
But as he recalled the disappointment on Erwin's face, Snape let out a heavy sigh. "Just this once, Erwin, you manipulative brat."
He walked over and picked up the suit. After a moment's hesitation, he hung it back up. His eyes then drifted to the grooming set Erwin had left behind. The packaging was elegant, bearing only the Cavendish crest. Snape picked it up and walked toward the private bathroom attached to his office.
That evening, as the bells of Hogwarts tolled, the Christmas Ball officially began. Young wizards poured into the Great Hall. At the entrance, Harry Potter and Draco stood side by side, both clad in identical black suits, distinguished only by the crests on their lapels.
"Harry, where is Hermione?" Draco asked, glancing around. "We're going to be late. I heard the professors and the Headmaster are opening the ceremony together. We're supposed to be waiting inside."
"I don't know," Harry replied, frowning. "We were meant to go in together. She should be here by now; I haven't seen her all day."
"What a bother," Draco groaned. "I wonder if—"
He cut off abruptly, his eyes widening. Harry turned to look and froze.
Hermione was descending the stairs. She wore an elegant evening gown, her hair styled immaculately, soft curls cascading over her shoulders. The younger students who hadn't yet entered the hall stared openly. After years of studying beside her, they had never realized just how beautiful she was.
Hermione shifted uncomfortably under the attention and hurried over to the boys. "Why are you staring? Is there something wrong?" she whispered, self-consciously touching her hair.
Harry found his voice first. "No, Hermione. You look... really beautiful. Nothing is wrong."
Draco blinked, finally snapping out of his shock. "Bloody hell, Hermione. You really are a girl. And a stunning one, at that."
Hermione's expression instantly turned icy. Hogwarts might ban dueling, but after the ball, she was going to hex Draco into next week. Did he have any social skills whatsoever?
Seeing her glare, Draco shut his mouth quickly. He hadn't meant to be rude—he was just genuinely stunned.
At that moment, a wave of gasps and murmurs swept through the entrance hall. Hermione and the others turned to see the students from the East entering in a dignified procession. Leading them was Sunny Finch, dressed in flowing white robes that the British students didn't recognize, but the Eastern group called "Hanfu."