The dormitory was quiet.
Rick was still tirelessly unwrapping presents, the constant rustle of tearing paper echoing softly in the room.
But Ino had lost all interest in opening gifts.
Although he had earlier pieced together Voldemort's underlying strategy, what truly lingered in his mind was a growing understanding of Snape's position.
Was Snape a brilliant man? Without question. He could even be called dazzlingly gifted.
Anyone who had served at Voldemort's side for over a decade and retained even a sliver of rationality would inevitably notice the subtle cracks. Snape's letter, though ostensibly a political commentary, was in truth a plea—part confession, part entrustment.
At the bottom of the letter, Snape had attached a key—one that opened his Gringotts vault.
A half-life's savings from a master of potions. It may not have been everything he owned, but the value was no doubt significant.
…
Time passed quietly.
With his mind full of unease, Ino didn't leave the dormitory for most of the day.
He remained deep in thought, unmoving for hours.
If possible, he wanted to help Snape within the limits of his ability. Debts of gratitude, after all, were best repaid when you had the chance.
…
Unnoticed, the sky outside gradually darkened.
At precisely six in the evening, Ino rose and made his way to the wardrobe.
Inside were several sets of formal dress robes—gifts from the Ministry following his performance at the Quidditch concert. Though he'd only worn one outfit at the time, Bagman had bundled up the rest and sent them over as a "gesture of goodwill."
"These were tailored just for you," Bagman had said. "Not taking them would be a waste."
Thinking of that, Ino opened the wardrobe and carefully chose a long robe of silver-gray silk. The cuffs and hem were embroidered with delicate violet vine patterns.
Once fully dressed, he stepped out of the room.
…
Tonight, Hogwarts sparkled more brilliantly than ever.
The young witches and wizards had shed their uniform black robes for a riot of colors. Everywhere you looked were flowing gowns and elegant robes—like a royal ball from a medieval fairytale.
In the Gryffindor common room, Harry sat alone on the sofa, listlessly waiting for his date. Ron and Neville had left long before.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Harry!" called a voice from the girls' staircase.
Harry turned—and froze.
Ginny was wearing a figure-hugging purple dress that flattered her graceful silhouette. Her long, crimson curls flowed over her shoulders in perfect waves, exuding a youthful charm.
"You… you look… amazing," Harry stammered, managing to speak only after several attempts.
Ginny giggled, covering her mouth. "Come on, we're going to be late! The champions have to lead the opening dance."
…
At seven o'clock, the Great Hall's towering oak doors swung open.
The familiar space was gone, replaced by a dreamscape.
The ceiling had been enchanted into a vast, star-speckled sky bathed in soft purple hues. Glimmering starlight scattered from above while tiny fairies flitted through the air, their iridescent wings leaving trails of shimmering rainbows.
The walls of the Great Hall, once bare, now shimmered with enchantments. Lining them were hundreds of miniature Christmas trees, each about three feet tall. Atop each tree glowed a warm orange five-pointed star, replacing the usual floating candles and lighting the entire hall.
And the trees served more than just illumination. Each one was adorned with treats from Honeydukes. With a simple tap of a wand on the wall, a candy would drop from the branches, delighting every student lucky enough to catch one.
…
Harry stared at the transformed Great Hall, at a loss for words.
Suddenly, he noticed a strange hush behind him.
His training with Moody kicked in instinctively—he spun around, shielding Ginny with his body.
But the tension faded as quickly as it came.
Across the hall, Ino walked in, arm in arm with a stunning young lady.
"That's Hermione!" Ginny whispered, her breath tickling Harry's ear. She grinned at his stunned expression.
Harry tore his gaze away, but the surprise lingered. He hadn't known Hermione could look like… that.
…
Outside the hall.
Hermione, holding onto Ino's arm, walked with measured grace. Each step was perfectly timed, every movement exuding elegance.
She wore sleek, three-inch black heels that peeked out beneath a flowing light blue gown. The dress had clearly been modified—features like slits and a low back had been tastefully removed—yet it remained refreshingly modern amidst a sea of vintage styles.
Around her neck was a moonstone pendant, glowing with a gentle white light. The gemstone, nearly the size of a dove's egg, shimmered against the blue fabric, making her appear like the moon goddess Artemis stepping out from a painting.
…
Hermione's beauty was captivating, but she didn't command all the attention.
Many girls found their eyes drawn to the figure beside her.
Normally, Ino wore simple black robes and kept a low profile. To some, he had become almost a shadow.
But tonight, the transformation was striking.
Clad in silver-gray satin, his robes caught and reflected the starry glow of the enchanted ceiling. His handsome features, paired with warm amber eyes and a gentle smile, were enough to make quite a few hearts skip a beat.
Some girls even summoned their movie mirrors, trying to capture the moment.
…
At eight o'clock, Professor McGonagall entered the Great Hall alongside the headmasters of the visiting schools.
Oddly enough, Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen.
But his absence barely registered—everyone's eyes were on the dance floor.
"Champions and partners, this way please!" Professor McGonagall called out.
The four champions began making their way to the center.
Notably, Ino and Fleur had ended up in matching colors—both wore silver-gray.
Feeling the faint squeeze on his arm, Ino smiled silently. Then, under countless curious eyes, he raised a finger to his sleeve.
With a soft shimmer, his robes shifted hue—changing to a deep sea-blue that perfectly echoed Hermione's gown.
Hermione pressed her lips together to hide a smile, but the delight in her eyes was unmistakable.
…
It was tradition: the Triwizard champions would open the first dance of the Yule Ball.
As the couples reached the center, Professor Flitwick climbed atop a small stool and lifted his wand. In front of him, a collection of magically suspended instruments awaited.
He gave a sweeping motion, and a graceful waltz began to fill the hall.
As the music began, Ino gently took Hermione's hand.
Their matching moonstone rings touched.
Above them, about two feet above their heads, a soft white halo of light bloomed—like moonlight itself. Glimmering motes of starlight drifted down around them, like delicate snowfall in a dream.
"This piece is called First Encounter," Ino murmured beside Hermione's ear. "One of the Weird Sisters' first hits."
Hermione gave a small nod, her gaze flickering upward to the enchanted starlight.
In that moment, the world seemed to vanish, leaving only the music, the moonlight… and the dance.