Chapter 225
After the Gryffindor students had left, Severus Snape cleared his throat and spoke in a rapid, emotionless tone.
"The Yule Ball is approaching—this is a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and also an opportunity for interaction with our foreign guests. Attendance is limited to students in fourth year and above. However, you may invite a younger student if you wish."
"You are required to wear formal dress robes. The ball will be held in the Great Hall at eight o'clock on Christmas night and will conclude at midnight," Snape continued.
"That is all. Do not ask me for further details. Professor Minerva McGonagall will provide more comprehensive information. She is far more enthusiastic about such matters."
His tone made it clear that he had little interest in the event.
"A ball?" Pansy Parkinson's eyes lit up immediately. Like the other Slytherin girls, she became excited and began whispering with them. However, her excitement faded just as quickly. She rested her head on her arms and stared ahead blankly.
Her injured leg wouldn't allow her to participate properly.
She straightened up and looked at Malfoy with a pitiful expression. He could only respond with a helpless smile.
"Oh, right," Snape added. "Mr. Malfoy, as a champion, you are required to have a partner. I trust you will make arrangements in advance. I do not wish to see a Hogwarts champion standing alone at the ball."
Malfoy clearly saw Pansy's face grow paler.
"It's just a partner," she told herself repeatedly, but her imagination had already run ahead.
In her mind, Malfoy stood in the center of the dance floor, dressed in elegant black formal robes. A beautiful girl stood in his arms, wearing a flowing gown. They moved perfectly in time with the music, exchanging glances that felt almost intimate.
Then the girl lifted gracefully, her silver hair cascading down—
Pansy finally saw her face.
It was Fleur Delacour.
She smiled brightly, her eyes soft and affectionate as she gazed at Malfoy.
"What are you thinking about?" Malfoy waved a hand in front of her eyes, snapping her back to reality.
"Nothing," Pansy muttered, turning her face away and rubbing her eyes so he wouldn't see her expression.
Malfoy had already guessed what she was thinking, but there was no easy solution.
---
"Excuse me… does Draco already have a partner?"
At the entrance of the Slytherin common room, a Ravenclaw girl asked shyly.
She was not the only one.
After the announcement of the Yule Ball, the entire school atmosphere had changed. The usual rivalry between Houses had softened. Watching the First Task had made it clear that being a champion was no easy feat. Admiration began to replace jealousy.
Many Ravenclaw girls now saw Malfoy as exceptionally impressive—his composed use of Transfiguration, his control during the task, and especially how he resolved it without bloodshed.
Naturally, many decided to approach him.
But under the strict watch of a certain possessive girl, they were all turned away.
"Sorry, Draco doesn't like girls who wear glasses."
One girl with thick-rimmed spectacles burst into tears and ran off.
"Sorry, Draco doesn't like younger girls. He thinks it's childish. Maybe when you're older… actually, no, you won't have a chance."
Another girl left wiping her eyes.
"Sorry, Draco doesn't like older girls—"
Just as Pansy was about to reject yet another, she felt a hand gently pat her head from behind.
She froze slightly, then forced herself to compose her expression before turning around.
As expected, Malfoy was standing there, watching her silently.
"By your logic, after eliminating all these options, it seems I only like men," he said dryly. "Also, I wasn't aware I had appointed a spokesperson."
"Then go invite a man," Pansy replied immediately. "That would certainly be memorable."
Malfoy's expression turned colder.
"I'll apologise to them later," he said.
Pansy's confidence faded. She turned away and muttered, "I was just trying to help you find a good partner."
Even she didn't fully believe her own words.
"Thank you. If you simply do nothing, that would already be very helpful," Malfoy replied.
Pansy's injury made it impossible for her to attend the ball properly. Otherwise, he wouldn't have minded granting such a small wish.
She slumped onto the table, defeated.
"Will you invite the girl from Beauxbatons?" she suddenly asked.
"No," Malfoy answered simply.
For a moment, her mood lifted—only to sink again.
"Then she'll definitely invite you…" she muttered quietly.