A fat man singing?
Harry seemed to have some impression of it—it was Luciano Pavarotti, right? The excerpt was called "La donna è mobile."
What did Godfather mean by this? Was he reminding me that Veratia is fickle too?
It wasn't impossible...
Harry wrestled with it in his mind, noting down his godfather's earnest advice. Just as he was about to say something, he realized his godfather had already hung up the phone.
No...
Whatever.
Since his godfather couldn't offer any sound advice, Harry figured he could only rely on himself.
Worst case, he'd just take a few ancient curses—piece of cake.
But what Harry hadn't expected was that coming to Hogwarts this time wasn't just Veratia; there was also an uninvited guest.
In the headmaster's office, two white-bearded old men sat facing each other.
"Long time no see, Al." Gellert winked mischievously at Dumbledore.
"I truly didn't expect you to come to Hogwarts at a time like this," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Did you come with Veratia?"
"Can't I come on my own?" Gellert countered.
Dumbledore chuckled and said to him, "Unless Veratia wanted to bring you, I don't think you could leave Austria—after all, even today, you're still a criminal in Austria."
"Criminal? What criminal!" Gellert waved his hand in rebuttal. "That's just a bit of rough weather. My sister won't let me be exonerated, so I have no choice but to keep changing my appearance..."
"Veratia's concerns are valid," Dumbledore nodded and said. "Back then, you stirred up such a storm in Europe; the impact was extremely negative... Being imprisoned in Nurmengard Castle was already a good outcome. I can't imagine how upset the people you hurt would be if you were ever declared innocent and released—for example, Theseus and Newt. Do you remember? You killed Theseus's fiancée, Leta Lestrange."
At the mention of that name, Gellert rolled his eyes and let out a dry heave.
Hearing that name made him feel a bit nauseous.
That woman was just too absurd; no matter what, Gellert couldn't have imagined what she did at Père Lachaise Cemetery...
Who gave her the courage?
"I was only acting in self-defense," Gellert reiterated. "If I wanted to do something to the Scamander brothers, that stupid Lestrange woman couldn't have stopped my will!"
The two fell silent for a moment.
Outsiders might not believe it, but although Gellert was the European Vinegar King 1.0 version, he didn't necessarily have to take Newt's life.
In fact, you could say he spared Newt out of consideration for Dumbledore, to avoid being pestered by him about it whenever they met.
Dumbledore was well aware of this too.
"Well then," Dumbledore resumed, "I still believe your sister's approach was completely correct and very mature..."
Gellert let out a scoff.
Mature?
That woman?
She'd only been the behind-the-scenes Minister of Magic in Austria for a few days before eagerly pushing for the Anschluss, even giving the Germans reasons they couldn't refuse.
Gellert didn't think Veratia was mature; in fact, he thought his sister was even crazier than he was.
If Veratia hadn't traversed back then, at least in the wizarding world, all of Europe might have been completely unified by now.
"Oh." Dumbledore didn't respond to the scoff but asked Gellert, "I forgot to ask—what brings you to Hogwarts this time?"
"Of course there's something," Gellert said with a smile. "I plan to attend the Christmas Ball and invite you for a dance... What do you think?"
Dumbledore clasped his hands on the desk and replied with a smile, "Nice proposal, but please allow me to decline..."
"Why?" Gellert raised an eyebrow.
His reaction wasn't big, but he was in a pretty bad mood now.
Being rejected was never something to be happy about.
"I'd personally love to dance with you at the Christmas party, but the problem is..." Dumbledore said with a smile, "Aberforth will also be attending this Christmas party. He can recognize exactly who you are... If you don't want him ruining your good mood, you'll have to deal with him first..."
"You mean?" A Tom Cat-like mischievous grin appeared on Gellert's face: "Get rid of him..."
As he spoke, Gellert drew a slicing motion across his neck with his index finger.
The meaning was clear—take out Aberforth!
Dumbledore's face immediately darkened, and his gaze toward Gellert carried a hint of displeasure.
"I need to remind you, Gellert!" Dumbledore said seriously. "I've already lost one sister; I don't want to lose a brother too!"
"Alright, alright, I was just joking—" Gellert raised his hands in the standard French surrender pose. "So what do you say I should do?"
As he said this, Gellert was still scoffing inwardly.
You lost a sister?
You lost your sister, but it wasn't my curse that hit her...
If I hadn't decisively left back then and taken the blame, you'd have lived your whole life in the shadow of killing your sister yourself...
Besides, if that goat boy Aberforth had been a bit more settled and less noisy, would Ariana have suddenly had that silent outburst?
"If you don't mind," Dumbledore extended a finger, "you could disguise yourself as an old woman..."
Before he could finish, Gellert stood up and slammed both hands on the desk with a bang.
"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" he roared. "Al, you're delusional—no way am I disguising as an old woman! If anyone's disguising, it should be you!"
"I'm the headmaster of Hogwarts, Gell," Dumbledore said with a beaming smile. "I'd love to change my appearance too, but my position dictates that I can only appear as Dumbledore."
Hearing this, Gellert suddenly slumped his arms in defeat.
"Fine," he said. "Women's clothes it is... If it means staying at Hogwarts for a Christmas Ball, it's not impossible, but you have to keep it secret!"
"I promise," Dumbledore said aloud, but he was already eager to share the news with Veratia.
Hahaha... This would absolutely be Gellert's unprecedented biggest black mark in history; even the one where a Niffler stole the blood pact couldn't compare to a fraction of it.
The snowfall outside the castle grew thicker, with heavy snowflakes drifting down onto the castle and grounds.
Beauxbatons' light blue carriage looked like a frost-covered giant pumpkin in winter, and beside it, the gingerbread house dusted with icing was Hagrid's cabin; Durmstrang's ship had a layer of ice on its gunwales, making it smooth and glossy, with frost on the rigging too.
Down in the kitchens, the house-elves were bustling with joy, preparing steaming stews in various flavors and sweet puddings—only Fleur Delacour could find an excuse to complain.
"The food at Hogwarts is all too greasy," Ron and Ginny overheard as they passed through the entrance hall. "I can't even fit into my dress robes anymore!"
"Oh, how tragic," Ginny said, watching Fleur exit the Great Hall into the entrance hall, and she sarcastically added without mercy, "Even knowing it's greasy, she still loves eating it—she just can't control that mouth of hers, can she?"
Ron heard this and bowed his head, stifling a laugh.
"So, who are you planning to take to the ball?" Ginny looked up and asked. "My dear brother, I really don't want to hear you're going alone—you know I love mocking people, and I show no mercy. Even if you're my brother, I'll make sure the whole family knows you went to the ball all by your lonesome..."
"No need to worry about that, Ginny," Ron said, puffing out his chest. "I already have a partner—a really, really great partner."
"Oh, it wouldn't be Hermione, would it?" Ginny wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "Yeah, besides someone as kind-hearted as Hermione, I can't think of anyone else who'd go to the Christmas Ball with you... It can't be that Professor McGonagall took pity on you and reluctantly became your partner, right?"
Stung by his sister's roasting, Ron felt his face burning.
The first part was bad enough, but what did those last lines mean? Was he really that undesirable?
"That's too much, Ginny!" he said, his face flushing red. "How could I be like you said! Merlin... My partner is absolutely the prettiest girl! The prettiest girl in Gryffindor!"
Ginny curled her lip in disdain—who didn't know that the prettiest girl in Gryffindor was his sister, Ginny Weasley?
It was universally acknowledged, and no one denied it.
Just then, Neville appeared, his face red.
"G-G-G-G-G-G-Ginny..." he stammered.
"Oh?" Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Longbottom, what is it?"
"I-I-I-I want to invite you, um, to be my partner—can you?" Neville asked, extremely nervously.
He'd actually prepared himself for outright rejection from this lively girl, followed by merciless mockery.
But the expected scolding didn't come; the girl in front of him simply tucked her hair behind her ear and said softly, "Why not?"
"So that means..." Neville asked excitedly, "you accept?"
"Of course." Ginny smiled and said, "I can definitely be your partner."
"Hey!" Ron was a bit angry, feeling the discomfort of his little cabbage being rooted up by a pig. "I'm still here, you know? I'm still here!"
"You're just my brother, not my partner, Ronald!" Ginny gave her broken brother a disdainful glance. "It's my freedom to be anyone's partner—alright, I'm leaving. You stay here Bye-bye"
With that, she left the Great Hall laughing and chatting with a few Gryffindor girls.
"Hehe..." Neville scratched his head.
Seeing Neville like this, Ron's anger boiled over.
But he couldn't say anything, so he just sighed mournfully and headed to the common room.
"What's wrong with you?"
Hermione, reading in the common room, saw Ron trudging over listlessly and asked with concern.
"Don't ask." Ron waved his hand. "Ginny doesn't believe I can get a date; she even agreed to be Neville's partner... Merlin, why do I feel like the cabbage I've been growing for years got stolen?"
Hermione let out a giggle, amused by Ron's humor.
"Hermione," Ron said, turning to look at her and suddenly frowning. "Your teeth..."
"What about them?" Hermione said.
"My God, they're different... I just noticed..."
"Of course they're different—" Hermione said with a beaming smile. "I went to the hospital wing earlier and begged Madam Pomfrey to shrink my front teeth a bit... You know, they were way too big before; I looked like a chipmunk. How can a lady have teeth like that?"
"Madam Pomfrey just agreed?" Ron asked curiously.
"Actually, she didn't want to at first—after all, if she set a precedent for cosmetic changes, it'd be hard to refuse others later." Hermione smiled lightly. "But I promised no one besides you and Harry would know, and I told her this might be my only chance to attend a ball in my life... Madam Pomfrey softened and agreed."
"You really have a way with people." Ron gazed at Hermione, a bit entranced—after shrinking her teeth, how did this girl look prettier the more he stared?
Even the pimples on her face seemed to have vanished; he wasn't sure if that was Madam Pomfrey's doing too.
"Mum and Dad won't be happy. For years, I've been begging them to let me shrink my teeth, but they wanted me to stick with those metal braces." Hermione shook her head with a smile. "You know, they're dentists—they think teeth and magic shouldn't mix. Magic is magic, teeth are teeth. If magic helps with everything, what's the point of dentists?"
"Oh, yeah." Ron agreed. "But sometimes it's good to accept new things. I think this stuff could be used in Uncle Granger's dental clinic, right?"
--
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