The little snake-creature blinked innocently.
"Harry, what did you hear?" Hermione asked, puzzled by Harry's startled reaction.
She hadn't heard anything—Harry's dance partner had only hummed a note or two just now.
"Maybe... maybe I misheard," Harry said, glancing between Hermione and the snake-creature with a sheepish scratch of his head. "Probably got hit too hard during the snowball fight…"
Just then, Professor McGonagall's voice rang out:
"Champions, over here, please!"
The chattering crowd parted, forming a path for Cohen and the other champions.
Professor McGonagall could be seen wearing a long red tartan robe, a wreath of thistle on her hat. The usual sternness had faded from her expression, making her appear unusually kind and approachable.
"Wait by the door a moment," she told the five pairs of champions and their partners.
Harry had been chatting happily with the little snake-creature, but his eyes inevitably lingered a little longer on Cedric and Cho Chang.
[What are you looking at?] the snake-creature asked curiously.
"N-nothing," Harry stammered, quickly looking away—not just because of the snake-creature, but also Cedric.
Cedric glanced over and gave Harry a polite smile.
[Are we dancing now?] the unicorn asked Cohen.
[Just follow my lead when the time comes—spin, sway, that sort of thing,] Cohen replied through a private mental link. [Dancing's not that hard.]
Once most students had taken their seats in the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall led the champions and their dates inside, two by two.
The Great Hall had been utterly transformed. The walls were draped in glittering silver frost, and the enchanted ceiling revealed a starry sky dotted with mistletoe and ivy garlands. The four long house tables had been replaced with smaller, lantern-lit ones that each seated ten.
Cedric, Fleur, and Krum entered ahead of Harry and Cohen, walking slowly toward the head table. The whole setup—teachers up front, classmates watching from behind—felt almost like a circus parade.
Cohen spotted Ron and Sissoko sitting near the front rows.
Both were glaring straight ahead with dark expressions—Ron glowered at Krum with Hermione, and Sissoko glared at Harry, who was arm-in-arm with the snake-creature.
Perfect. Such powerful holiday spirit.
When the champions reached the head table, Dumbledore welcomed them warmly, his eyes twinkling with joy. Meanwhile, Karkaroff's expression twisted to match Ron's as Krum and Hermione approached.
Still, Karkaroff avoided making eye contact with Cohen.
Madame Maxime gave them a nod, though her attention quickly turned to Hagrid.
The Ministry representatives were Cornelius Fudge and Bartemius Crouch.
Fudge wore his usual insincere grin, occasionally whispering to Crouch—who, for his part, looked increasingly irritated. From the way things appeared, one might think Crouch was the actual Minister for Magic.
Dinner came before the dancing, so they were seated together for a meal first.
The champions all sat at the same table, which made it hard to keep conversations private. Not that anyone seemed to care.
Krum launched excitedly into stories about Durmstrang for Hermione, while Fleur criticized Hogwarts' holiday décor to Roger Davies.
Cedric and Cho talked about Eastern magic, and Harry whispered nervously to the snake-creature about dance moves—though from an outsider's view, it just looked like he was muttering to himself.
Cohen could sort of understand why Sissoko was so jealous—the snake-creature clearly took its studies much more seriously when learning from Harry than from Sissoko.
If looks could kill, Harry would already be halfway to smelling like a corpse.
[Good thing I used only basic ingredients,] Cohen muttered to the unicorn. [Sissoko looks like the kind of guy who'd try to get back at Harry for "stealing his daughter".]
[Bad guy…] the unicorn whispered, staring directly at Karkaroff at the head table.
Karkaroff didn't like the stare one bit. He glared back fiercely—causing the unicorn to shrink closer to Cohen.
That defiance lasted less than a second. As soon as Karkaroff realized who the girl beside the unicorn was, his gaze quickly flicked away.
Cohen much preferred him when he acted all defiant and arrogant.
[Don't worry, I've got you. If he tries anything, I'll just eat him—want some pudding, by the way? I don't think I've ever packed it in the box before.]
He pushed a plate of frosted pudding toward the unicorn.
Meanwhile, Hermione was patiently teaching Krum how to pronounce her name properly. So far, he could only manage "Her-My-Own."
Cohen suspected Krum wasn't struggling so much as savoring the attention. Having Hermione patiently correct him probably felt more rewarding than getting the name right.
Love and feelings were things Cohen could understand—he'd once been human, after all. But developing feelings of his own had grown more difficult over time, especially anything involving romance.
To this day, he hadn't experienced it. Not with people, not with Dementors, not even with unicorns.
After dinner, Dumbledore rose and invited everyone else to stand.
With a flick of his wand, the tables vanished, leaving a wide open space at the center of the hall.
A stage sprang up, tall and dramatic, complete with drums, guitars, a lute, and other magical instruments.
The band Dumbledore had hired—The Weird Sisters—rushed onto the stage. With wild hair and tattered robes, they grabbed their instruments and began to play.
All the lanterns on the other tables went dark, so now the spotlight shone solely on the stage and the champions with their partners.
It was time for the champions' opening dance.
Cohen was accidentally stepped on by the unicorn a few times—not that the other champions were doing much better.
Roger, clearly nervous, kept stumbling into Fleur, earning sharp looks from her.
Harry and the snake-creature had no clue what they were doing, so they simply held onto each other and started spinning clumsily in circles, copying the others.
Thankfully, once more couples joined the dance floor, the champions were no longer the center of attention.
Of course, this also opened the door for less fortunate events—like Sissoko finally deciding he couldn't bear watching any longer.
[Kid, you like dancing with my daughter, huh? Let me show you how it's done!] Sissoko grumbled.
Waiting for the right moment—when Ron and Harry got close—he grabbed the snake-creature and pushed her toward Ron, slipping in to take her place and grabbing Harry instead.
Hearing the rough, familiar voice, Harry stared, mouth slightly open.
Wait…
Why did Casey sound like that?
Hold on—did he just say…?
"D-daughter?"