Hogwarts: Starting with full Unforgivable Curses

“That’s what I was thinking.” Dylan chuckled. “Many people are misled by preconceived notions and certain underlying wills, thinking that mermaids in cold water don’t count as real ‘mermaids,’ and prefer to call them ‘sea monsters’ or ‘water monsters.’ It is this cognitive bias that has slowly affected cold-water mermaids—their appearance has gradually become more rugged, and although they can still sing and the melodies retain the characteristics of mermaids, they can no longer reach the level of warm-water mermaids.”

He paused for a moment, then added, "This is actually very similar to the situation of house-elves. They also gradually accepted this identity because they were influenced by the collective will and consensus that they 'should be slaves' for a long time, and even came to believe from the bottom of their hearts that they should live this kind of life. The difference in the mermaid's song is essentially the result of the long-term interaction of cognition and will."

"A very interesting point of view!" Dumbledore exclaimed with a pleased smile after hearing this, repeatedly praising, "This angle is novel and insightful, very, very interesting!"

The first event of the Triwizard Tournament has been over for some time now.

The students' discussion about the fierce battle between the dragon and the warrior gradually faded away.

A new topic quickly took over everyone's chat time.

Moreover, it's the Christmas holiday, which is relevant to everyone.

There are less than two weeks left until the holiday.

The students were speculating that in a day or two, the Hogwarts prefects would be distributing forms indicating their willingness to stay at the school.

The students who weren't planning to go home yet chatted non-stop. Some said they wanted to visit the newly opened magic toy store in Diagon Alley during the holidays, some planned to go to the magic resort in the Scottish Highlands with their families, and others argued about which country's Christmas magic market was the most lively. The topics came one after another, and the air was filled with anticipation.

That afternoon, it was a combined Transfiguration class for Ravenclaw and Gryffindor.

As soon as the bell rang, Professor McGonagall waved her wand with satisfaction, closing the iron cages on the podium that held guinea pigs one by one.

The goal of the exercise was to transform guinea fowl into guinea pigs. Students from both colleges performed better than expected. Every guinea pig in the cage was plump and had smooth fur. None of them were "half-finished products" with guinea fowl feathers remaining.

After locking the last iron cage, Professor McGonagall turned around, looked at the students who were still packing up their textbooks, and cleared her throat: "Students, please wait a moment. Before leaving the classroom, I have two things to announce."

At the other end of the classroom, Harry, Ron, Neville, and Dylan were gathered together.

Neville was engrossed in reading a worn-out book titled "How to Make a Sword as Reliable as a Wand," while Harry and Ron each held their wands and assumed fencing stances.

They clearly treated their wands like swords, taking turns "attacking" each other with impressive skill, even making soft "swish" sounds.

Upon seeing this, the smile that had lingered on Professor McGonagall's lips due to the students' excellent performance vanished instantly, replaced by a serious expression.

“Potter! Weasley!” she called out in a low, stern voice, “Shouldn’t you both think about your age first, and then consider what’s appropriate for your age to do?”

Harry and Ron heard Professor McGonagall call their names and instinctively looked up, but their hands didn't stop moving. The two wands collided in mid-air, resulting in a stalemate where neither was willing to let go first.

Seeing this, Neville quickly closed the book in his hand, sat up straight, and pretended that he hadn't seen anything.

Just as Professor McGonagall was about to speak again, Harry and Ron's wands suddenly changed simultaneously. The tip of Harry's wand gradually expanded, turning into a soft, rubbery black cod with a wet sheen on its surface. Ron's wand slowly deformed, eventually becoming a small, tin-plated parrot statue with a sharp beak that looked like it could actually peck someone.

"pat-"

With a soft sound, the outcome was decided in an instant.

Ron's tin-plated parrot statue sliced ​​through Harry's rubber black-striped cod with its sharp beak. The cod's "head" fell to the ground, bounced twice, and then stopped.

Ron paused for a moment, then broke into a smug smile, clearly very satisfied with his victory in this "swordsmanship contest".

Seeing this absurd and mischievous scene, Professor McGonagall's expression grew increasingly serious. Her brows furrowed tightly, and even her cheeks flushed slightly, clearly indicating that she was somewhat angry.

Meanwhile, the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor students around them were already red-faced, pursing their lips and trying hard not to laugh out loud. After all, Professor McGonagall was in a bad mood, and no one dared to provoke her.

Harry and Ron realized they had made a mistake and quickly lowered their heads, like children who had done something wrong, and tiptoed back to their seats, deliberately minimizing the sound of their chair legs scraping the floor, for fear of incurring Professor McGonagall's criticism.

Seeing the two sitting properly and upright, Professor McGonagall's expression softened slightly.

She took a deep breath, calmed herself, and resumed her usual steady tone when lecturing: "Alright, now I have an important announcement to make."

She paused, then continued, "The Triwizard Tournament has always had a tradition—the Christmas Ball. Although this year's event is the Triwizard Tournament, this tradition has been preserved thanks to a vote by the school principals. It's not just a celebration, but also a great opportunity for everyone to network and socialize with guests from other schools."

The moment Professor McGonagall uttered the words "Christmas Ball," the classroom erupted in excitement. The tension that had been building up because of Harry and Ron vanished instantly, and the students began whispering excitedly among themselves.

Neville clenched his fist excitedly and turned to Dylan beside him, saying, "Great! A prom!"

"The Christmas ball is only for..." Professor McGonagall had barely begun her sentence when the classroom erupted in chaos.

The students could no longer contain their excitement and began whispering amongst themselves, their lively discussion instantly drowning out her voice.

Some people excitedly shared their anticipation for the dance with their tablemates, while others were already planning who to invite as their dance partners. Laughter rose and fell, growing louder and louder, showing no sign of stopping.

Professor McGonagall, seeing the lively scene before her, simply pursed her lips and did not immediately stop it. She knew how appealing this news was to the students, so she decided to give them a few minutes to release their excitement.

Just then, Ron suddenly heard a conversation between Lavender Brown and Pavati Petit from the front row, and the conversation was about the ball gown.

His expression changed instantly, and he subconsciously muttered to himself, "Oh no! My tuxedo, why did it have to come at this time..."

Before she could finish speaking, Professor McGonagall raised her wand.

A flash of silver light appeared, and the iron cage on the podium that originally contained the guinea pig instantly transformed into an eagle with outstretched wings.

The eagle flapped its wings, circled once above the classroom, and let out a clear, long cry before landing steadily on the ground, transforming back into its cage-like form. The guinea pig inside remained round and plump, not turning back into a guinea fowl.

Under Professor McGonagall's magical display of power, the students gradually stopped smiling, sat up straight, and the discussions in the classroom subsided. Everyone quieted down and waited for Professor McGonagall to announce the specific rules of the ball.

Once the classroom had completely quieted down, Professor McGonagall continued, "You can choose your dance partners yourselves; you may invite any student to join you."

“Anyone is fine?” Michael Corner immediately raised his hand, his tone filled with anticipation. “Professor McGonagall, can we invite students from other schools… female students too?” “Of course.” Professor McGonagall nodded, her gaze sweeping over the class. “If you have any questions, feel free to raise your hand like Mr. Corner did. Don’t be shy. As I said before, this ball is meant to help us get to know our guests from other schools and foster friendly exchanges.”

She added, “Mr. Corner just mentioned formal attire, which is very important—you will need to wear formal gowns, and your dance partners will too. Also, the ball is scheduled for 8 p.m. on Christmas Day in the auditorium and will officially end at midnight.”

As soon as she finished speaking, a hushed whisper broke out in the classroom again. The students exchanged glances and discussed who they would go with and what kind of dress they should prepare. However, this time the whispers were much more restrained than before, and no one interrupted Professor McGonagall.

"Perhaps this Christmas ball will give everyone a chance..." Professor McGonagall's tone carried a hint of barely perceptible teasing, "...to let their hair down and relax a little."

Upon hearing this, many girls subconsciously raised their heads slightly and gently turned their necks, trying to get a glimpse of Professor McGonagall's meticulously styled hair from the side.

In their memory, Professor McGonagall's hair was always neatly combed and securely fastened with hairpins, no matter the public occasion. They had never seen it disheveled. Therefore, they all felt that Professor McGonagall's words were actually more like a description of themselves.

“But please note!” Professor McGonagall suddenly raised her voice slightly, her tone instantly becoming stern. “Students from other schools will be present, and your words and actions represent the image of Hogwarts. The school will not relax its standards regarding your behavior in the slightest. I will be deeply saddened if any Hogwarts student brings shame to the school in any way!”

Harry and Ron exchanged another glance. Ron quietly shrugged and whispered to Harry, "She... she wasn't talking about us, was she? What happened earlier should be over now."

Harry shrugged, about to say "Who knows," when Professor McGonagall interrupted him: "Mr. Potter, Mr. Hawkwood, please stay behind. I have a few words to say to you."

"Thank goodness." Harry breathed a sigh of relief and whispered to Ron, "They mentioned Dylan's name, so it probably wasn't just about me. Maybe it's not a bad thing."

"We'll wait for you outside." Ron and Hermione packed up their books, said goodbye to Harry and Dylan, and then left the classroom with the other students.

Soon, all the students in the classroom had left, and Professor McGonagall walked up to Harry and Dylan, getting straight to the point: "According to the tradition of the Triwizard Tournament, every champion needs to have their own dance partner."

"Huh?" Harry's eyes widened in surprise, and he stammered, "But...but I can't dance, I've never danced before."

“It has nothing to do with whether you can dance or not,” Professor McGonagall continued. “Once the ball begins, the warrior and his partner must start dancing together. This is a tradition that has been passed down and cannot be changed.”

"Oh my god! There's going to be a dance!" Harry's voice was full of helplessness, almost like a groan. "Why didn't anyone write down these important rules beforehand so we wouldn't know?"

Dylan glanced at the sky outside the window and suggested, "We can go to our next class first, and we can discuss this later."

"Yes! Great idea!" Harry's eyes lit up, as if he had grasped a lifeline. "It's not time to decide yet! I can think about my dance partner later!"

He quickly grabbed his textbook from the table and strode towards the door. "The next class is Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Moody hates it when people are late. Let's go!"

It was still break time, and the students of Beauxbatons took advantage of the break to get off the giant carriages parked in the corner of the campus and go outside for some fresh air.

Fleur Delacour stood out in the crowd. Perhaps it was because of her Veela bloodline, but every movement she made was uniquely elegant. Even when she was just casually fixing her hair, she always attracted the attention of those around her.

Many Hogwarts boys saw her and immediately turned around and ran towards her, clearly wanting to take this opportunity to talk to her.

“It’s Hibiscus!” Ron spotted Hibiscus in the crowd at a glance. “My God, she’s so beautiful.”

Hermione glanced at him.

“Is she watching us?” Neville asked.

Dylan and the others turned to look, and Ron's eyes widened: "Look, Fleur is really walking this way, and in a very clear direction!"

At this moment, the boys who had run up to Furong were gesturing and talking excitedly around her.

But Furong's expression remained calm, with no extra curve at the corners of her mouth and a tranquil gaze, as if she had long been accustomed to such a scene, just like dealing with the occasional breeze without any ripples.

She slowly walked up to Dylan, stopped, tilted her head slightly, looked at Dylan, and asked in a natural tone, "Dylan, would you like to come with me to the Christmas ball?"

Upon hearing these words, Ron and Harry, who were standing next to Dylan, both gasped in surprise.

They never expected that Furong would actually invite Dylan to be her dance partner!

Is it possible for a brave person to find another brave person to be their dance partner?

Looking at Furong again, her face still maintained the same calm expression as before, but a closer look would reveal something. Her body was taut, as if she was deliberately maintaining her posture; her eyes were fixed on Dylan, even her gaze carried a hint of tension, her nostrils flared slightly, and her breathing was a beat faster than before.

These subtle movements all indicate that her inner state is far from as calm as it appears on the surface, and there is even a hint of tension hidden within.

Dylan was visibly taken aback when he heard the invitation.

He and Fleur didn't have much interaction. Their few previous exchanges were mostly about topics like magic theory and alchemical innovation. He never imagined that she would suddenly invite him to the Christmas ball.

He blinked, then nodded. "Of course, if you'd like."

He added, "However, as far as I know, according to the tradition of the Triwizard Tournament, the warriors usually need to invite students who are not warriors to be their dance partners. I guess the original intention of this tradition was to make the dance more lively and give more ordinary students the opportunity to participate and interact with people from different schools."

“So there’s such a tradition.” Hibiscus took a deep breath, trying to make her tone sound natural. “If that’s the case, it does make a lot of sense.”

Her blinking speed increased noticeably, and her gaze became somewhat unfocused. She clearly hadn't expected such a response and didn't know how to respond, making the atmosphere instantly awkward.

Just then, her gaze inadvertently swept over the "Hogwarts Voice" in Dylan's hand, and then noticed the notebook and quill pen floating beside him, still swaying slightly. As if she had suddenly found a breakthrough, she quickly broke the silence: "By the way, what do you think of that alchemy paper? I originally thought the Hogwarts portrait review would be very strict, but I didn't expect it to pass on the first try and even be published in this issue of the magazine, which surprised me quite a bit."

“Wow, this paper has really opened my eyes,” Dylan smiled slightly. “Optimizing spell casting through the principles of alchemy is a novel approach and has given me a lot of inspiration. I was just thinking that if we follow this line of thought, perhaps even the difficulty of casting the Armored Charm could be reduced considerably—for example, by first using alchemy to create a small, portable shield, and then layering the Armored Charm onto the shield.”

To explain more clearly, he drew his wand and pointed it at the snow piled up on the ground.

With a wave of the wand, a snowball leaped from the ground and floated steadily into the air. (End of Chapter)