Hogwarts' Golden Glory

Christmas ball.

The tradition of the three-way battle for supremacy.

Everyone says this year's three-way battle is different, as if it was specially set up for someone.

Originally, only fourth graders were allowed to attend the dance.

Because Hogwarts has two students who are both in their third year.

After discussion by the school board, the age was changed to the third grade.

Lucius played a significant role in this. His two sons were both in third grade, so of course he wanted to push them harder.

Knowing what would happen next, Kane is now strictly ordering the Dracula Academy to dance.

After all, it will be the Malfoy family's reputation that gets to be displayed.

As for his dance partner, he hasn't decided on anyone yet.

In the Slytherin common room, the flames in the fireplace glowed with an eerie green light, which, reflected through the waters of the Black Lake, appeared on the stone walls like flowing dark patterns.

Kane stood in the center of the lounge, arms crossed, looking at Draco, who had a "I quit" expression on his face.

"Stand up straight," Kane said. "Left shoulder down, back straight. You're the second son of the Malfoy family, not a fish with its bones removed."

Draco gritted his teeth and forced himself to straighten his back. "I quit."

"You don't have the option to refuse."

Kane walked up to him, reached out to adjust the position of his left shoulder, then took two steps back, his gaze sweeping from Draco's collar to his ankles, looking him up and down twice. "Your feet are in the wrong position. Left foot back half a foot. Shift your weight forward, don't put it on your right foot."

Draco adjusted his posture as instructed, then said, "Why do I even want to learn this? The ball isn't until two weeks later, can't I just wait until then?"

"We'll see. When you're standing in the middle of the dance floor and realize you've forgotten how to lead your partner in a spin, Slytherin will have completely lost face."

Kane's tone was flat, as if stating a fact like "it will get dark." "Begin. Take a few steps."

Draco took two steps forward. He thought he had done a pretty good job.

"Too stiff," Kane said. "His shoulders are wobbling, and his right hand is too high, like he's trying to build a scaffold. Let's start over."

Draco stopped and, holding his breath, walked through it again.

"Not yet. The shift in focus was too abrupt. You're not thinking about how to finish this quickly, are you?"

"...What I think is none of your business."

"I don't care what you think." Kane walked to the fireplace, picked up an old book, flipped through a couple of pages, and said, "I don't care what you do. Let's try again."

Draco took a deep breath.

He went through it again. This time, his movements were noticeably steadyer, and his posture was more relaxed than before, as if he had finally overcome that mental hurdle. Kane turned a page of his book without looking up: "That's enough. Take a break. We'll practice three more times tonight."

Draco walked to the sofa, sat down as if all his strength had been drained: "...This is terrible. Thank goodness you're the older brother."

Draco looked at Kane.

Kane started doing this several years ago.

The fireplace in the lounge crackled softly.

The black lake outside the window swayed silently.

The next morning at 6:30, by Black Lake.

The air was as cold as if it had just been taken out of a freezer, and a thin layer of white mist covered the lake.

Harry, wrapped in a thick robe, was already on the damp grass by the lake, clutching a towel in his hand.

Sirius stood beside him, wearing a simple gray robe, holding nothing in his hands.

"Don't soak in cold water today."

Sirius said, his voice sounding especially clear in the stillness of the early morning, "Today I'm practicing holding my breath."

"We practiced last night," Harry said.

Yesterday is yesterday, today is today.

Sirius walked to the lake, squatted down, tested the water temperature with his hand, then looked up at Harry. "Holding your breath isn't about who can hold it the longest, it's about who can control their body and stay calm when they're most oxygen-deprived. Your record yesterday was four minutes, right?"

"Four minutes and seventeen seconds."

"We managed to score four and a half points today."

Sirius stood up. "Take fifty deep breaths, inhale fully, exhale completely, and make sure each breath goes all the way in."

Harry put down the towel and began to take deep breaths. The cold air filled his lungs, making his chest feel chilly.

Sirius stood beside Harry, looking at the lake, as if counting Harry's breaths, or perhaps thinking about something else.

"Did you sleep well last night?" he asked suddenly.

"It's alright," Harry said.

"It's alright, but not good." Sirius didn't turn around. "You're thinking about Ron, aren't you?"

Harry stopped breathing. "...Yeah."

"Are you thinking about your relationship with him? And whether you two will get back together?"

"I don't know," Harry said.

Sirius was silent for a moment. "Did he worry about you when he saw you being chased by the dragon?"

Harry thought for a moment, then said, "Hermione said she was worried."

"That's enough," Sirius said. "In that situation, you can't fake what you really feel. You've actually made up."

Harry nodded. He took another deep breath.

"There's one more thing after today's practice," Sirius said.

"What?"

Have you decided on a dance partner yet?

Harry paused for a moment, then asked, "...A dance partner?"

"What is that?"

"The rules of the three-way battle!"

"A warrior must have his own dance partner to lead the dance!"

"What? I don't know!"

"Harry! You'd better hurry! The best things are always snapped up first! That's the advice your godfather gave you!"

"Do you have anyone you'd like to invite?"

Harry was momentarily stunned, then a name immediately came to mind.

Zhang Qiu!

"Maybe."

"Haha, you'd better hurry up, good girls don't wait for anyone. If you like someone, you have to take the initiative. That's how your dad won over your mom!"

Sirius now understands everything.

After all, he's been there.

Harry blushed when he heard Sirius's words.

"Okay," Sirius said. "Then starting tomorrow, I'll teach you how to dance with a partner."

Harry caught his breath: "You... teach me how to dance?"

Sirius turned to look at him, his expression serious, a smile playing on his lips: "No matter how well you practice holding your breath in the Black Lake, if you can't spin around at the ball, you'll still be embarrassed."

"But you said before that you were in Azkaban—"

“Azkaban doesn’t teach dancing,” Sirius said. “But I studied at Hogwarts for seven years before that. I’m qualified to teach you.”

Harry opened his mouth, but found himself unable to find a reason to refute. "...So tomorrow morning still 6:30?"

"Six o'clock," Sirius said. "Dancing is much harder than holding your breath."

He turned and walked back to the lake, squatted down, and tested the water temperature again. "Alright, you can go in now." Harry sighed, took off his robes, and walked into the lake shirtless. The water was still cold, but he wasn't shivering today. After taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and sank below the surface. The sound of the water surrounded him, and everything became quiet. Sirius stood on the shore, looking at the water, his hands in his pockets.

A long time passed.

Harry surfaced, panting heavily.

"How long?" Sirius looked down at his watch. "Four minutes and twenty-nine seconds. A little faster than yesterday. Not bad."

Harry wiped the water off his face and chuckled.

"Is dancing harder than this?"

"It's harder than you think."

Sirius said, "But you'll have to survive the second project first."