"Right," Kyle suddenly remembered something and asked, "Do you even know how to dance, Maurise?"
"It shouldn't be an issue," Maurise replied casually.
"Really?" Kyle's eyes widened. "When did you learn?"
"Around my first year," Maurise said with a perfectly straight face. "I learned the Manticore Social Dance."
'The Manticore Social Dance?'
Kyle was dumbfounded for a moment. "What on earth is that?" Why had he never heard of it?
"A dance that mimics the movements of a Manticore, used to pacify the creature and keep it calm," Maurise explained. "I read about it in a book written by Newt Scamander. If you have been paying attention in class, you would know he is the author of our textbook, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them."
Kyle immediately knew this was not a proper dance for a ball.
He asked in disbelief, "Are you genuinely planning to dance that at the Yule Ball? I am sure it will be a spectacular sight."
"Do you think I am an idiot?" Maurise gave him a strange look. "I merely meant that the core principles of all dances are essentially interconnected."
Kyle sighed. "Only you would go out of your way to learn something so utterly bizarre."
"Not necessarily," a voice chimed in from the side. "I know how to perform the Manticore Social Dance as well."
The two boys turned to see Padma Patil, a witch of Indian descent from their year.
Padma offered Maurise a sweet smile before turning and walking down the staircase.
Hearing this, Kyle fell into deep thought.
Was the Manticore Social Dance actually popular? Should he go learn it too?
---
The news of the Yule Ball spread through the entire school like wildfire.
In the days that followed, an atmosphere of restless, bubbling anticipation permeated every corner of Hogwarts Castle.
One afternoon a few days later, while crossing the courtyard, Maurise was once again intercepted by two Gryffindor girls.
Unsurprisingly, they were there to invite him to the ball.
Over the past two days, this exact scenario had played out countless times.
Maurise, naturally, declined—his reason remaining exactly the same: he didn't know them.
Receiving his rejection, the two girls walked away, their faces etched with disappointment.
Immediately after, Maurise practically bumped straight into Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
Ron strode forward, his face burning with curiosity. "Were they just asking you to the Yule Ball?"
"Yes." Maurise nodded.
'Just as I thought.'
Having his suspicions confirmed, Ron suddenly sighed, his tone heavy with melancholy. "I wish I were you, Maurise."
Maurise asked, slightly puzzled, "Why?"
"He is jealous of you," Hermione pointed out sharply from the side. "Because you are incredibly popular."
Maurise instantly understood—Ron was stressing out about finding a dance partner.
"Harry and I still have no idea who to ask," Ron said dejectedly, shooting a glance at Harry. "Though I reckon Harry doesn't have to worry, much like yourself."
However, Harry's mind seemed to be wandering completely elsewhere. He was staring blankly at a tree in the courtyard, not paying Ron the slightest bit of attention.
"What are you thinking about?" Ron nudged him sharply with an elbow.
Harry jolted back to reality. "Nothing!" he said nervously. His ears seemed slightly red.
Maurise looked at Ron's anxiety-ridden face and said seriously, "Ron, what you need is confidence."
In his eyes, Ron wasn't a terrible student... he was just remarkably average.
Ron paused. "What?"
Maurise patted his shoulder and repeated, "What you need is confidence. It is just asking a girl to a dance; it shouldn't be that difficult for you."
Ron scoffed. 'Easy for you to say.' If he had a face like Maurise's, he would be brimming with confidence too. Alas, what could he do? It was an unfair world.
"Maurise is completely right," Hermione voiced her agreement.
"If you don't mind," Maurise stroked his chin, offering a suggestion, "I could lend you one of my skeletons to practice dancing with."
'A skeleton?'
Ron visualized the scene and shuddered violently. "I think I'll pass."
The Yule Ball wasn't a Halloween party. If at all possible, he vastly preferred to dance with someone who actually possessed a pulse.
Maurise chuckled heartily. "I was only joking."
"Ah! Class is about to start!" Hermione gasped, checking the time.
The trio hastily said their goodbyes and hurried off.
Maurise did not head to class. Instead, he strolled into the courtyard, sat down leaning against a large oak tree, and pulled a crystal ball from his pocket.
The image displayed within the crystal ball was the interior of Snape's potion ingredients storeroom.
Unsurprisingly, there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.
Even though Snape had tasked him with catching the thief, Maurise felt the chances of success were incredibly slim. After all, it was impossible for him to constantly monitor the crystal ball's feed day and night.
"Meow~"
A soft meow drifted down from above. Maurise instinctively looked up, just in time for a black cat to plummet from the branches and land squarely in his lap.
Wasn't this Tin?
Maurise scooped up his pet cat. Struck by a sudden inspiration, he shoved the crystal ball into its paws.
"Hold onto this," he ordered. "I am giving you a highly important mission. Keep your eyes glued to the image in this ball. If you see anything unusual happen inside, come and alert me immediately. Do you understand?"
"Meow!"
Tin stood up on its hind legs and gave a crisp salute with a front paw. It was thrilled to receive a direct order from its master after so long.
Maurise patted its furry little head approvingly.
However, the moment Tin took the crystal ball in its mouth, feline instinct completely took over. It immediately dropped the ball onto the grass and began batting it around like a ball of yarn.
Seeing this, Maurise merely shrugged.
Whatever. He would just let the cat play with it. As long as it occasionally glanced at the image inside, it would be fine.
He pillowed his hands behind his head, leaned back against the tree trunk, and closed his eyes, savoring the rare tranquility of the afternoon. Even though it was winter, the sunlight today was uncharacteristically warm and comforting. Such weather was a rarity; in a few days, the entire grounds would likely be buried under a thick blanket of snow.
"Are you not going to class?"
A voice sounded from right beside him. Maurise opened his eyes to see Fleur Delacour.
She was wearing a light blue dress robe, her silvery-blonde hair shimmering brilliantly in the sunlight.
"Indeed. I am skipping," Maurise answered simply before closing his eyes again to resume his nap.
However, Fleur clearly had no intention of ending the conversation there.
She gracefully sat down on the grass right beside Maurise. Her pristine long hair cascaded onto the dirt, but she didn't seem to care in the slightest.
"Will the professors not punish you?" she asked, her voice tinged with genuine curiosity.
"No," Maurise replied flatly.
At that moment, Cinder, perched on a branch above them, staring unblinkingly at Fleur.
Fleur noticed the bird's intense gaze. She looked up, and upon seeing the spectral fire burning within its eye sockets, she visibly tensed.
"What is that?" she asked, a sliver of unease creeping into her voice.
"My owl," Maurise answered succinctly. "It is a rather unique breed."
Whenever anyone asked why his owl had flaming eyes, that was always his go-to answer.
Fleur accepted the explanation, averted her gaze from the unsettling bird, and turned her attention back to Maurise.
Maurise shifted his position slightly and asked, "So, what did you want to see me about?"