The Great Hall, Hogwarts.
Tonight, there were no long tables, no pumpkins, only a massive, neon-lit dance floor.
The air was thick with a scent mixing ozone and Amortentia—Ivan's custom-made "Atmosphere Spray."
The students were dressed in bizarre costumes.
Hermione wore a bikini folded from pages of The Standard Book of Spells (with robes over it). Ron dressed himself as a giant Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean. And Harry... he tried to hide inside a giant pumpkin head because his godfather, Sirius, was wearing a pink tutu and tangoing with a Mechanical Husky in the middle of the dance floor.
"My, isn't this Mr. Potter?"
A "waiter" in a uniform and top hat walked over with a tray.
His face was hidden in shadow, and his voice sounded as raspy as two gravestones grinding together.
"Care for a 'Special Drink'? Pumpkin juice with a dash of Cruciatus powder."
Ivan sat in a VIP booth, holding a cocktail that glowed green.
He glanced at the waiter, a playful smile curling his lips.
"Professor Quirrell, or should I say... Mr. Voldemort?"
Ivan stirred the ice in his glass with a straw. "Isn't this groomsman suit a bit tight? I recall only ordering five groomsmen; I don't think I invited you."
The waiter stiffened.
He slowly looked up, revealing a pale, nose-less face—the remnant soul of Voldemort, possessing Lockhart, who had barely escaped the Forbidden Forest.
He had originally planned to detonate a Dark Magic bomb buried underground at the climax of the ball and blow Hogwarts sky-high.
But the moment he snuck into the kitchen, Dobby forcibly stuffed him into this waiter uniform and threatened: "Serve dishes or be made into sashimi!"
"Potter..." Voldemort lowered his voice, red light nearly spewing from his eyes. "Don't get cocky. Wait until my Death Eater army..."
"Shh."
Ivan put a finger to his lips, then pointed to the center of the dance floor.
"Look, your old acquaintance."
Center of the Dance Floor.
Gellert Grindelwald stood there.
He wasn't wearing his dull black robes today. Instead, he wore the black and gold tailcoat Ivan gave him, top two buttons undone to reveal exquisite collarbones, holding an Elder Wand... as a cane.
He was looking over coldly, a hint of provocation in his eyes.
"Gellert has been waiting for you." Ivan smiled like a pimp. "He said he wanted to discuss 'Who is the Wizarding World's Top Hairstylist' with you. Look, he's preserved your bald look perfectly."
Voldemort instinctively touched his smooth forehead, rage instantly breaking through reason.
"GRIN—DEL—WALD!!"
He let out a shriek, flipped the tray, and drew a wand from underneath. "I'll kill you all! Avada—!!"
"Drop the beat!" Ivan snapped his fingers.
DJ Booth.
Snape, looking like his life was over, wore massive headphones and held two wands as drumsticks.
Seeing Voldemort rampage, he expressionlessly hit a heavy bass button.
BOOM!
A massive wave of sound instantly drowned out Voldemort's incantation.
Immediately after, the entire hall's lighting turned a piercing red.
Ivan's voice resonated through the PA system:
"Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to 'Hogwarts Rave Night'! Please welcome our special guest—The Dark Lord Edition 'Red Queen'!"
The floor suddenly vibrated.
The tiles under Voldemort's feet flipped over (a gravity trap modified by Ivan).
"AHHH!!"
Before Voldemort could fire the Killing Curse, he fell straight into a suddenly appearing... cake?
Yes, a massive strawberry cream cake, three meters in diameter, originally meant for decoration.
Voldemort struggled up from the cream, covered in pink frosting, looking like a giant marshmallow that had just crawled out of a trash can.
> [System Alert: Voldemort (Extreme Humiliation + Social Death + PTSD from Strawberry Flavor): Emotion Value +1024!]
The crowd erupted in laughter; even Gryffindor students couldn't help but applaud.
"The makeup effects are too realistic!" Fred Weasley shouted. "Try a Crucio? I want to see the special effects!"
Voldemort trembled with rage. Just as he was about to blast the cake away, a hand pressed on his shoulder.
"Don't move."
Grindelwald had walked over at some point, holding a... chainsaw?
No, it was an alchemically modified "Light-Shadow Saw," with only a light blade and no solid form, designed purely for stage effects.
Grindelwald held the glowing "chainsaw" against Voldemort's neck (actually resting on his shoulder), his other hand making an elegant "please" gesture.
"Since you're here, don't be a spoilsport, Tom."
Grindelwald whispered in his ear, voice audible only to them. "Look, kids these days love this 'Gap Moe'. The more pathetic you look, the more excited they get. Want to rule the world? Learn to survive on this stage first."
Voldemort froze.
He looked at the young wizards waving glow sticks and screaming at him.
He suddenly realized that in this world modified by Ivan, terror was no longer power; "Entertainment" was.
"I..." Voldemort gritted his teeth, swallowing a mouthful of cream-laced blood. "I am the Dark Lord..."
"Yes, yes, you are the Dark Lord." Ivan walked over, holding a handkerchief, and wiped the cream off Voldemort's face like cleaning a pet. "But right now, you are tonight's 'Lucky Groomsman'. Here, put this on."
Ivan put a flashing LED bunny ear headband on Voldemort's head.
Voldemort wanted to resist, but Grindelwald's "chainsaw" flashed, scaring him into a shudder.
"Good." Ivan clapped in satisfaction. "Now, music!"
Snape rolled his eyes behind the DJ booth but cooperated by dropping a heavy rhythmic track... The Blue Danube Heavy Metal Remix.
Ivan turned to Grindelwald, and their eyes met.
No words were needed.
Grindelwald extended his hand, and Ivan took it.
"Let's begin, my 'Reaper' partner."
The two moved simultaneously.
This wasn't a traditional waltz.
With every step Grindelwald took, a ring of black Fiendfyre exploded under his feet (controlled within a safe range as special effects fire).
Ivan moved like he was popping and locking, every movement precise as if measured by calipers, holding the glowing "chainsaw" as a prop.
Spin! Jump! Eyes closed!
The two spun wildly in the center of the dance floor. Black flames and golden lightning intertwined, creating an eerily beautiful visual effect.
"Heavens..." Hermione stared, dropping her pen. "This... this is the combination of power and beauty! The collision of Dark Magic and Industrial Aesthetics!"
"That is so cool!" The chicken leg fell from Ron's mouth. "I want to learn! Can Ivan teach me to dance with a chainsaw?"
Harry covered his face in despair. "Is no one going to stop them? Those two together could level the castle ten times over!"
Just then, something happened on the dance floor.
Because they were spinning too fast, Grindelwald's hairpiece loosened slightly.
He leaned in close to Ivan, hissing, "Hey! Did you turn off your gravity trap? I feel the floor vibrating!"
Ivan, stepping on Voldemort's foot while dancing (Voldemort was holding a tray nearby as a background board), looked back.
The Great Hall doors were smashed open.
A group of tattered, hollow-eyed Dementors floated in.
But they weren't here to suck souls.
Each held a broken bowl, lining up and floating toward the buffet table...
"Ivan!" Lucius Malfoy scrambled in, holding a bill, crying his heart out. "Bad news! The Dementors in Knockturn Alley have all quit! They said working as your 'Atmosphere Crew' not only gets them souls to eat but also full benefits and insurance!"
Ivan frowned, releasing Grindelwald's hand.
"What a buzzkill, just as we reached the climax."
He looked at the Dementors devouring pudding and snapped his fingers.
"All Dementors listen up! Target: that bald waiter holding the tray! His soul is full of 'Cream Flavor', tonight's special dessert!"
The Dementors turned instantly, empty sockets locking onto the bunny-eared Voldemort holding the tray.
"No... don't come over!!"
Voldemort let out the most pitiful scream of his life.
But it was useless.
A dozen Dementors swarmed him, burying Voldemort along with the giant cake.
Only slurping sounds and Voldemort's muffled curses could be heard: "Damn it... don't lick my nose... it's fake..."
Ivan adjusted his bowtie and looked at Grindelwald, who seemed unsatisfied.
"Looks like the ball ends here."
Ivan extended his hand. "Want to go to the Forbidden Forest? I installed a new 'Auto-Dog-Walking Mode' on Mechanical Fluffy; we can test if it can scare Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts to death."
Grindelwald looked at Ivan, eyes shining with unprecedented light.
He tossed the "chainsaw" to Ron (scaring Ron nearly into wetting his pants) and adjusted his bowtie.
"My pleasure."
Grindelwald revealed a true, feral smile. "But this time, I'm driving that 'Gold-Eater' mechanical dog. You navigate."
The two walked out of the hall side by side, leaving a mess and a dumbstruck crowd of students and teachers.
Snape took off his headphones, looking at the empty dance floor, then at the Voldemort remnant still being "gang-beaten" by Dementors.
He was silent for a moment, pulled a bottle of Felix Felicis from his pocket, and downed it.
"I've gone mad too."
Snape muttered to himself. "I actually thought... that dance just now was kind of beautiful."