Even the headmasters had joined the dance floor, and the professors were having fun as well.
John spotted Dumbledore dancing with Madame Maxime, though their height difference was a bit too much. Even with his pointed hat, he barely reached her chin.
For such a tall woman, Madame Maxime's dance steps were graceful—far superior to John's, which he had only learned at the last minute to get by.
Even Moody had joined in, dancing with Professor Sinistra.
John had expected it to be a comical sight, but surprisingly, Moody maneuvered his wooden leg with impressive skill, making his movements look quite natural.
Old Barty had a hesitant expression.
His current image was all about being approachable, but stepping onto the dance floor was still a bit too much for him to stomach.
The students were pairing up as well. Neville, thinking about his parents, seemed a bit distracted.
Ginny was his dance partner—mostly because he had looked so pitiful lately that she couldn't help but agree out of sympathy.
As the Weird Sisters finished one song, they started playing another.
Padma invited John to dance, but his chest still ached from Daphne bumping into him earlier, so he politely declined.
He handled the rejection well enough that Padma didn't seem too affected.
Before long, a Beauxbatons boy had invited her to dance instead.
John rubbed his chest—the air in here felt a little stifling.
Mostly, it was because of his overuse of mind magic. Combined with the exhaustion from dancing, the swirling emotions of the students around him lit up in his vision like neon signs.
Looking toward Dumbledore, John saw that he had already parted ways with Madame Maxime. Hagrid took the opportunity to step forward and invite her to dance.
Hagrid radiated joy, mixed with nervousness and shyness.
Madame Maxime had a slight fondness for him, but not much—Hagrid still had work to do.
As for Dumbledore… John couldn't tell.
His abilities had their limits when faced with someone skilled in Occlumency. Dumbledore appeared kind and approachable, but in truth, his emotions were unreadable.
Karkaroff was nowhere to be seen—he had probably slipped out.
John's gaze moved from person to person until it landed on Moody.
Moody had finished dancing and was now sitting off to the side, listening to the music while holding that finely crafted hip flask of his.
"Also occlumency?"
John could detect a faint trace of joy in Moody, barely noticeable unless one looked closely.
So, he was using Occlumency as well. Considering Moody was a PTSD patient, that actually made sense.
No one else stood out too much—even Professor McGonagall was radiating festivity, to the point that she was trying to pull Old Barty into a dance.
"I need some fresh air."
From the corner of his eye, John spotted Heinrich looking impatient. Across from him, the silver-masked figure speaking with a serious expression was exuding a mischievous mood.
Percy responded in his usual rigid manner as the three of them stood there casually.
Johnny Silverhand (Kim) and Percy were discussing issues related to the import and export of new-style tents, deliberately making Heinrich stand there like a servant.
"I just hope he doesn't end up brokering some earth-shattering deal for me."
Shaking his head, John left the ball.
As soon as he walked away, Ron and Harry sat together at a table.
The two of them truly were partners in misery—Harry's dance partner, Parvati, had finally had enough of his cold attitude and left with a Beauxbatons student instead.
"Viktor went to get drinks."
Hermione took advantage of Krum's absence to check on her two "sons."
Unfortunately, this only prompted a sour remark from Ron.
"Viktor? He didn't ask you to call him Vicky?"
Due to Krum's accent, he always mispronounced Hermione's name as "Hermy-own."
To others, it almost sounded like a pet name between lovers.
"So sour, way too sour."
Crabbe, who had been eating fruit, scrunched his face together in confusion. He stared at the apple in his hand, wondering why this red thing suddenly tasted so sour.
Or was it that red fruits were naturally sour?
In the end, Ron went on a full rant, saying things like how being with Krum was betraying their side, that Krum was only getting close to Hermione to gather intelligence, and that he was definitely trying to use her to solve the mystery of the golden egg.
Hermione was so furious that she decided to stop caring about these two idiots. He hadn't even invited her to the ball himself, yet he was now trying to pin all sorts of crimes on her.
Ron, completely blinded by jealousy, found everything about Krum intolerable—completely forgetting that he had once said he'd gladly give Krum his bed and sleep on the couch himself.
…
Inside, the atmosphere was lively and bustling, but outside, it was cold and quiet.
A layer of snow covered the ground and the hedges.
In the rose garden, John had thought that stepping out would let him escape the overwhelming emotions that flashed in his mind like neon lights. But he had clearly underestimated the students at this school.
As he walked past a rose bush, three black lines of frustration appeared on his forehead.
From his perspective, the entire bush was filled with emotions of romance and affection.
Seriously? In the bushes..?
Can't you little lovebirds at least wait until after graduation to start all this?
He was speechless. At this age in his past life, he had been grinding through endless practice problems, yet here they were, caught up in love and romance.
Honestly, Snape should be the one to catch them.
Just as he was thinking this, he suddenly sensed a wave of fear.
Following the sensation, he spotted an unexpected figure.
"Severus, you can't just pretend none of this ever happened!" Karkaroff's voice was hoarse. Afraid of being overheard, he spoke in a low whisper.
"For months now, it's been becoming more and more obvious."
"I'm really worried. I can't deny that..."
"Then just run away."
Unlike Karkaroff's anxious demeanor, Snape looked utterly impatient.
John attempted to read Snape's emotions, but as expected of a master of Occlumency, it wasn't that easy.
After several tries, John could only pick up on whatever emotions Snape deliberately chose to display.
"Well, Karkaroff is a Death Eater. That's no secret."
Since John and old Barty were on the same page, he naturally knew what Karkaroff had been involved in before.
Judging by Karkaroff's panicked state, he was clearly terrified of the Dark Mark.
"Yup, that makes sense. After all, back then, he had no hesitation in selling out every last Death Eater. If Voldemort really is coming back, he'd be the first one to be afraid."
Voldemort despised traitors even more than his enemies.
At least this let John rule out Karkaroff as a suspect for tampering with the Goblet of Fire.
As he turned to leave, he suddenly stopped in his tracks—he had spotted two heads peeking out from another direction.
Choosing not to bother with them, he walked off in a different direction.
He tried his best to pick a place with fewer people, yet he still ran into someone.
This time, it was Hagrid and Madame Maxime.
The two of them walking together was far too conspicuous.
After a while, they got tired and sat down on a stone bench to rest.
Hagrid's shy and bashful demeanor became even more intense.
John was about to leave when he noticed another figure.
Curiosity, scrutiny, greed, excitement.
It was Rita.
John couldn't help but click his tongue.
Through Legilimency, he could tell that Rita had been on the hunt for a juicy scoop—only to end up circling back to Hagrid once again.
And unfortunately, Hagrid wasn't exactly known for keeping his mouth shut.
"The moment I saw you, I just knew," Hagrid said.
Madame Maxime's expression darkened with displeasure. "Knew what?"
Hagrid looked at her earnestly. "I knew that you're just like me. Was it your father or your mother?"
John watched as Madame Maxime's irritation flared into outright anger, while the tiny insect that was Rita Skeeter trembled in excitement.
Honestly, I really have to wonder—when Hagrid was a kid, did he drink Veritaserum whenever he got thirsty?
Seeing that Hagrid was about to shatter his chances by talking about her blood status, John sighed helplessly.
He deliberately made a noise loud enough for everyone to hear.
Hagrid had been about to ask Madame Maxime if she was a half-giant, but the moment he heard the sound, he immediately turned his head.
John stepped out from the shadows, wearing a polite yet insincere smile.
"Sorry to interrupt, Hagrid, Madame Maxime—am I disturbing you?"
Hagrid still had some courage when he was alone with Madame Maxime, but the moment another person was present, it vanished completely.
Despite his age, he was still just a lovesick, innocent big guy.
Hagrid, if you keep acting like this, Madame Maxime is going to have you wrapped around her finger.
To John, Hagrid's emotions were flashing by like a carousel, constantly shifting from one to another.
Subtly glancing at Rita, John stood there like a glaringly bright lightbulb.
Everyone clearly wanted him to leave—but he refused to budge.
With a warm and gentle smile, he said, "Madame Maxime, just now I saw Fleur being led away by a boy to the rosebushes nearby."
"What?!"
Madame Maxime, already uncomfortable with Hagrid, immediately stood up. Seizing the excuse, she stormed off like an enraged titan, charging toward the rose garden to deal with the Hogwarts pig who dared to steal her precious flower.
Hagrid reached out to stop her—but failed.
Hagrid sat down in disappointment, while John sensed a wave of anger coming from behind the reindeer.
It was Harry and Ron, most likely upset that John had ruined Hagrid's hard-earned date.
Ignoring those two blockheads, John casually walked over to Rita.
Just as Rita was about to go away and transform back, John flicked his finger—and sent her flying.
He had used just the right amount of force, so she was probably completely dazed by now.
After dealing with that, John turned to Hagrid, who was sitting there, head hung low in disappointment.
Leaning in, John whispered, "Hagrid, some things are better left unsaid."
"What?" Hagrid looked confused.
John countered with a question of his own. "What were you just about to ask?"
"I just wanted to know which of her parents was a giant," Hagrid answered innocently.
John rubbed his temples in frustration and said, "That kind of personal question—you shouldn't ask the moment you meet someone. You know how mixed-bloods are discriminated against in the wizarding world, just like werewolves. Even with Wolfsbane Potion, they're still treated unfairly in many places."
Hagrid finally seemed to grasp the severity of the situation. His face paled slightly as he tried to say that he hadn't thought that far.
"Madame Maxime hates people bringing up this topic. If you like her, then never mention it again for the rest of your life."
John spoke in a half-threatening tone, and Hagrid hurriedly nodded.
He realized his mistake—he had nearly brought up the one thing Madame Maxime hated the most.
Fortunately, John had shown up just in time.
For that, he was extremely grateful.
The anger from behind the reindeer disappeared as well—clearly, they had heard everything.
Realizing they had wrongly blamed John, the two slinked away in embarrassment.
___________
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