The Hogwarts Castle Great Hall gleamed with festive splendor. Twelve towering marble columns were wrapped in shimmering golden ribbons, while the enchanted ceiling reflected a brilliant starry sky. Silver snowflakes drifted down through the warm air, melting away before they could touch the ground.
The excitement surrounding the Triwizard Tournament had intensified the atmosphere of the Christmas Ball like flames leaping in a fireplace, burning ever brighter. The violins and accordions of the Weird Sisters band intertwined beneath the vaulted ceiling, gently lifting the laughter and chatter from the dance floor.
In the center of the dance floor, Gemma's silk dress traced graceful arcs as she spun, the silver embroidery on her hem catching the light and scattering tiny fragments of brilliance. After completing an elegant turn, her body tilted slightly toward Sherlock, her shoulder leaning against him in the natural intimacy of the waltz.
Her fingertips remained firmly clasped around Sherlock's palm. In her other hand, she held her wand, and her knuckles lifted subtly. The next moment, a barely visible pale silver gleam flashed from the tip of her wand. An extremely subtle magical ripple spread outward like water rings, brushing past the hair of several nearby dancing couples.
"Muffliato!" Gemma's voice was compressed to barely a whisper, yet Sherlock could clearly catch each syllable of the incantation.
Instantly, the dance partners within a three-foot radius furrowed their brows unconsciously. Their ears were suddenly filled with a low buzzing sound, like dormant bees, which mixed with the distant music and completely isolated Gemma and Sherlock's conversation from eavesdroppers.
Some dancers turned their heads in confusion, but could only hear more indistinct noise. Eventually, they had no choice but to return their attention to their own dance steps.
Within this private space constructed by magic, Gemma's smile remained as bright as before. However, when she lowered her eyes to look at Sherlock, a trace of seriousness that clashed with the cheerful dancing flickered through her sea-blue eyes.
"Sherlock," she said, moving lightly to the beat, her toes tapping delicately on the smooth floor. Her voice transmitted clearly into Sherlock's ears, the tail end carrying a hint of barely perceptible complaint. "There's something that's making me quite unhappy, concerning Penelope."
"Oh?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow slightly. He tightened his grip on Gemma's hand gently, guiding her through a smooth leftward glide. Their dance steps remained as synchronized as a single entity. "Miss Clearwater? What about her?"
"It's Mr. Weasley—Percy Weasley." Facing Sherlock, Gemma dropped the elegant restraint she maintained in front of others.
At this moment, her tone of dissatisfaction spilled out like sparks that could no longer be contained.
"After graduation, both of them joined the Ministry of Magic. Penelope even went to the Ministry because of him! But that Weasley is as rigid as a dusty old relic! Their offices are so close, practically within arm's reach, yet at the Ministry he acts as if he only knows work.
He's had almost no interaction with Penelope at all. Penelope even thought at one point that they'd already broken up! Do you know what he sees now? Only files as thick as the bottom of a cauldron, and symbols of power as tiny as sesame seeds!"
She coordinated with Sherlock's spin, but her tone grew increasingly sharp.
"He spends practically all his time soaking in his office, not even coming out on weekends. Penelope has complained to me that the care and companionship he gives her is pitifully little. On the surface, she always says she 'understands he's busy with work,' but I know it hurts her inside. Since I came back this time, I've noticed she smiles far less than before."
Sherlock led her through a quick cross-step, looking thoughtful.
"Percy Weasley, yes? That's not surprising. He was like that at school too, always keeping his Prefect badge polished to the brightest shine. His adherence to school rules was stricter than the professors'. When the Minister of Magic visited the school last year, his ambition was practically written across his forehead.
After joining the Ministry of Magic, this personality trait has been magnified several times over, with obvious results. I've heard from the Lee brothers that if they didn't drag him along, he wouldn't even plan to go home.
Unfortunately, young people newly on the job, especially those with his personality, are easily swallowed up by complex regulations and the pressure to climb the ladder.
He naively believes that as long as he works hard, he'll get promoted, and consequently thinks that neglecting his private life is a necessary price to pay."
"A price?" Gemma snorted lightly. Her blue eyes gleamed especially bright under the flickering lights of the dance floor, like illuminated sapphires.
"But this price shouldn't be paid by Penelope! Setting aside which is more important between work and girlfriend, he's now completely abandoned Penelope for the sake of work!
Even when Penelope had a cold, he didn't say a single word of concern! Every time she brings it up, he just says he's very busy. Does he have to become Minister of Magic before he's qualified to date?"
She paused, her beautiful long lashes trembling slightly, clearly indignant on her friend's behalf.
"I think he's been kidnapped by all that red tape and his own rigid mindset! Penelope is wonderful. She'll spend an entire afternoon in the library helping me find 'Ancient Runes Selection.'
She remembers every friend's birthday. She deserves to be treasured properly! Not treated like a decoration in the corner of an office, forgotten completely."
Clearly, Gemma's words carried both protection for her friend and strong dissatisfaction with Percy's rigid approach.
Even in the midst of elegant dance steps, this emotion transmitted vividly to Sherlock like dancing flames. Of course, only in front of Sherlock would she reveal her feelings so openly.
Sherlock didn't immediately respond to Gemma's strong emotions. He simply increased the pressure in his arm slightly, leading her through another smooth and rapid spin.
This movement caused Gemma's long dress to fly up from centrifugal force, like a blooming silver flower, drawing soft exclamations of admiration from nearby dance partners. Some even stopped to watch, their gazes involuntarily following them.
"It's Farley!"
"Gemma Farley!"
"The Head Girl who just graduated this summer!"
"Heavens, how could she be back?"
Only at this moment did someone finally recognize her. Everyone wore expressions of disbelief at her sudden appearance and her dancing with Sherlock. They couldn't understand why this former Slytherin Prefect, Head Girl, and Hogwarts most beautiful girl would be with Sherlock.
Sherlock and Gemma paid no attention to the surrounding spectators' discussions. Taking advantage of the spinning interval, Sherlock embraced Gemma's waist and executed a dipping motion. At this moment, their faces were incredibly close.
For the first time, a blush appeared on Gemma's face.
In this instant, a bold thought suddenly popped into her mind: if she just lifted her head slightly, she could claim Sherlock's first kiss!
Just as Gemma hesitated about whether she should actually do this, Sherlock spoke softly while maintaining the pose. "Sometimes, people do need to be reminded."
With those words, he pulled Gemma back up again. A faint sense of loss immediately appeared in Gemma's heart.
Opportunity truly was fleeting.
She heard Sherlock continue from his previous statement.
"...that there are things in life more important than work directives and promotion ladders. A mind that values rules above all else may need precisely some untimely interference to see its own biases clearly."
Gemma saw the knowing look flash through Sherlock's eyes, as if she understood instantly.
She cast aside the emotional turmoil she'd just experienced, and the corner of her mouth curved into a smile that was both mischievous and satisfying. Her sea-blue eyes brightened as well.
"You're right, Sherlock. Perhaps he really does need a little interference. I'm so glad we see eye to eye on this matter."
"That spell you just cast—it prevents others from hearing our conversation?" Sherlock suddenly asked. His gaze swept inconspicuously past the nearby dancers.
Quite a few people were interested in the content of their conversation. Through this brief observation, he'd already roughly deduced the spell's effect.
"That's right, it's the Muffliato Charm." Gemma tilted her head playfully.
"This spell only circulates among a small number of students. I heard it was invented by some senior student in the past. It's very interesting and quite useful. Once cast, people nearby will have their ears filled with buzzing sounds, completely unable to hear the content of our conversation.
If you're interested, I'll teach it to you after this Christmas holiday ends. I'm planning to go home tomorrow first. I came to Britain without going home first, and my mum and dad have been complaining for quite a while."
"So, you're planning to stay until the Triwizard Tournament ends?"
"That's right. Part of the dragon handler team will return to Romania early, but I applied with the professor to stay behind." Gemma's eyes sparkled as she looked at Sherlock, her blue irises filled with tenderness and anticipation, even her voice softer than before.
She didn't tell Sherlock that when Mr. and Mrs. Farley, who had originally been urging her to come home quickly, heard she would be dancing with Sherlock Holmes at the Christmas Ball, they gave their full support.
The shrewd Mr. Farley even pointed out that if possible, their relationship could be established right now.
Based on his own connections and previous contact with Sherlock, Mr. Farley was certain that Sherlock would definitely achieve great things in the future!
His daughter just happened to be interested in this boy—for the Farley family, that meant striking while the iron was hot!
Thinking of this, Gemma's gaze toward Sherlock took on an indescribable quality.
And so, the two of them danced elegantly to the music in the private world constructed by the Muffliato Charm, conversing in low voices. From concern for Penelope to dissatisfaction with Percy, to exploring fresh spells, their words concealed an understanding that only they could grasp.
But in others' eyes, they were simply that perfectly coordinated, dazzling pair of dance partners. Every spin, every step was as precise as if carefully choreographed, captivating the entire Christmas dance floor once again.
The Weird Sisters' music remained cheerful, the buzzing noise guarded their private conversation, leaving only smooth, synchronized dance steps and heart-stealing grace for those around them to admire and marvel at.
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