Chapter 226
The days passed quickly, and Christmas was approaching.
Both students and teachers at Hogwarts seemed determined to impress their guests from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. The castle was decorated in advance with festive ornaments. The marble staircases were lined with icicles that never melted, and the twelve Christmas trees in the Great Hall were adorned with everything from shining holly berries to live golden owls that sang continuously.
The suits of armor had also been enchanted. Whenever someone passed by, they would begin singing Christmas carols. It was especially amusing to hear an empty helmet attempting to sing "O Come, All Ye Faithful." Since the armor only knew half the lyrics, Argus Filch had to drag Peeves out of them several times—because Peeves had been hiding inside, filling in the missing parts with crude and inappropriate verses.
At the same time, Malfoy noticed something unusual.
Wherever he went—the Great Hall, the library, even classrooms—nearby girls would immediately scatter, avoiding him as if he were something dangerous.
He quickly realized this was likely the result of Pansy's "hard work." Rumors had clearly spread, becoming increasingly exaggerated with each retelling.
'I wonder what I am now—a notorious playboy? Or some overly picky aristocrat?' Malfoy thought, a faint, helpless smile forming.
Still, it didn't bother him much. In fact, it saved him from unnecessary trouble.
At the moment, he sat quietly in the Great Hall finishing his meal. Aside from a few Slytherin boys, the only girl willing to sit beside him was Pansy Parkinson.
"Life has become rather lonely," Malfoy remarked lightly after setting down his utensils, clearly teasing.
Pansy hurriedly swallowed her food and lowered her head.
"I'll find you a partner, I promise!" she said quickly. Then, in her mind, she added, except for that vixen.
"Except for that vixen," she accidentally muttered aloud.
Her eyes widened in horror as she clamped both hands over her mouth.
"Vixen?" Malfoy frowned slightly. "It's not a good habit to give people nicknames." His fingers tapped lightly on the table, signaling his disapproval.
"She… she's your competitor," Pansy stammered, then gradually grew more confident. "If she invites you, she'll definitely try to get information from you. And if your willpower isn't strong enough, you'll fall for her tricks. She's so beautiful—you might just—"
"I see," Malfoy thought. There was only one person she could be referring to.
"It's also not a good habit to speak ill of others behind their back, Miss Parkinson."
A clear, melodic voice interrupted from behind.
Pansy turned around sharply.
Standing there was Fleur Delacour, her azure eyes fixed on Pansy with faint displeasure. She wore a violet robe, paired with elegant heels that accentuated her tall, graceful figure. Her silver hair flowed over her shoulders.
"I believe the competition between us should remain fair," Fleur continued calmly. "And from what you said… are you suggesting Hogwarts champions already know the next task in advance?"
Her tone was sharp.
"I have also heard certain… rumors. I assume they originated from you." She shifted her gaze toward Malfoy. "From what I know of him, I doubt he would say such… unpleasant things."
Then she asked directly:
"I wonder, Mr. Malfoy—would you accept my invitation to the ball?"
Malfoy looked into her eyes.
For a moment, it felt as though something was pulling at his mind—a soft, almost hypnotic voice whispering:
Accept her… accept her…
Fleur remained outwardly composed, but inwardly she was tense.
She had waited for days, expecting Malfoy to invite her. When he didn't, she chose to take the initiative. Unlike many others, she didn't believe it improper for a girl to extend an invitation.
She had also made inquiries—the girl from the infirmary was not his girlfriend.
Still, she anticipated resistance.
And so, she used a subtle charm.
Just as Malfoy was about to respond—
"Draco already has a partner!"
Pansy's voice rang out.
Fleur's lips curved slightly. "Who? Don't tell me it's you. I've never seen someone with an injured leg dancing at a ball."
She kept her gaze locked on Malfoy.
Pansy panicked. Then, in desperation, she pointed toward the entrance.
"It's her."
At that moment, Hermione Granger pushed open the doors of the Great Hall and stepped inside—only to find herself suddenly the center of attention.
She had no idea what was happening.