Wayne hadn't chosen anything unconventional to stand out.
His attire was a conventional black dress robe with lapels, made from fine fabric with a subtle sheen. The Lawrence family crest adorned his chest, while phoenix motifs traced in gold thread graced the collar and cuffs, adding a touch of elegance.
Combined with the natural nobility cultivated since childhood, what appeared before everyone was the very picture of a refined young aristocrat.
Today, he unhesitatingly released the restraints on the Witch's Heart and the Pretty Boy's charm.
At this moment, the girls' gazes could practically melt steel.
Wayne flipped his wrist, fastening the last button. "What are you all staring at? Thinking of changing dance partners?"
Almost all the girls nodded instinctively—even some of the boys.
Justin Finch-Fletchley murmured, "Well... that could work..."
Suddenly, his body levitated uncontrollably, sticking to the ceiling.
Wayne withdrew his arm. "Calm down, Justin. Liz will start crying in a moment."
The girl named Liz nodded vigorously. "Exactly! Who do you think you are? Wayne, look at me—I could—"
"True," Hannah chimed in. "You've already got so many dance partners anyway—what's a few more? We can wait until you're done with Hermione and the others."
Several male students' faces turned green at this.
Fortunately, Wayne didn't prolong the topic, merely chuckling as he urged everyone to gather in the entrance hall.
The young witches and wizards filed out of the common room, heading upstairs.
Some went straight to the entrance hall, while others went to fetch their dance partners. Many had partners from other schools—particularly those from Koldovstoretz and Beauxbatons.
The two visiting schools had brought plenty of girls, perfectly resolving Hogwarts' awkward imbalance of "wolves many, meat scarce."
The most popular were undoubtedly the Koldovstoretz girls.
The reason was simple—the Beauxbatons girls were far too picky, or perhaps just too dramatic. Wherever they went, complaints about the castle could be heard.
Over time, minor friction had arisen between the groups.
After all, failing to stir up some conflict would've been a disservice to their respective national stereotypes.
Wayne reached the first floor and observed the crowded entrance hall. Rather than joining the throng, he found a quiet spot to sit and rest.
Even so, girls kept approaching to press their attentions, until he finally had to retreat into his trunk.
...
At precisely eight o'clock, the doors swung open.
Professor McGonagall summoned the champions, who would make their grand entrance last. The other students filed into the lavishly decorated ballroom.
The Great Hall's walls shimmered with silvery frost, while the ceiling displayed a starry night sky adorned with hundreds of mistletoe and ivy wreaths.
At the centre stood an ice sculpture shaped like a Christmas tree, decorated with tiny stars and gift boxes, topped by an enormous, glittering lucky star.
This brought a sense of familiarity to the Beauxbatons students—their castle always featured an unmeltable ice sculpture during Christmas.
The usual long tables had been replaced by hundreds of small round tables lit by lanterns, each seating about a dozen people.
Students took their seats, chatting curiously with neighbours while surveying the surroundings.
Only the champions and their partners remained in the entrance hall.
Krum's date was the girl punished by Karkaroff last time. Harry's partner, a Koldovstoretz girl standing a full head taller than him, was a classic Nordic beauty with golden hair and blue eyes.
Cedric's dance partner was Angelina Johnson, while Vladimir and Buso made an interesting pair by choosing girls from each other's schools as partners, forming two inter-school couples.
The other three female champions weren't present, and everyone wisely refrained from commenting.
After all, even Professor McGonagall hadn't said anything—best not to pry too much.
Harry and Cedric were merely curious.
They both knew exactly how many girls Wayne had promised to dance with.
One wrong move at this ball, and it could turn into a bloodbath.
What would he do?
Professor McGonagall spoke up: "Follow behind me, form two lines, and prepare to enter."
The champions obediently complied, separating into male and female rows as they followed Professor McGonagall into the Great Hall.
Enthusiastic applause erupted from all directions. Several girls looked particularly pleased and happy, flashing radiant smiles at everyone while affectionately linking arms with their partners.
Finally, they took their seats at a table near the head table. To their left was another empty table, inexplicably labelled "Reserved."
Harry glanced around, and when he spotted a figure in one corner, his expression twisted with disgust—he could barely stop himself from reaching for his wand.
Rita Skeeter, that vile woman who had written such twisted articles about him, was actually here.
She was currently chatting animatedly with a girl, both looking thrilled.
As if sensing his gaze, Rita Skeeter suddenly turned and locked eyes with Harry—then had the audacity to smile at him.
That smile made Harry's mouth twist in fury.
After writing such outrageous articles, she still had the nerve to smile at him?
"What's wrong?" his dance partner asked in her oddly accented English.
"Nothing," Harry replied, taking a deep breath before engaging in a half-hearted conversation with her.
...
At the head table, Karkaroff's expression was sour.
"Some people really do think too highly of themselves, keeping everyone waiting like this."
Dumbledore merely smiled, unperturbed, but others weren't as patient.
"Igor," Bagman snapped irritably. "There are still five minutes until the scheduled start time. The ball hasn't even begun—what right do you have to criticise?"
Crouch delivered the finishing blow with a cool remark: "Perhaps Durmstrang and Britain are in different time zones. Mr Karkaroff must have mistaken this for his own territory, speaking so freely."
Karkaroff's face turned an ugly shade of green.
He didn't dare argue with Crouch, but Bagman—that worthless informant who had once leaked information to Death Eaters—dared to talk back to him? Did they think his position as Headmaster was just for show?
Just as he was about to retort, the doors—which Buso had casually closed earlier—swung open again.
Dumbledore smiled and gave a small flick of his wand.
The candlelight dimmed, while the lucky star atop the Christmas tree blazed brilliantly.
Hundreds of candles floated above the central aisle, forming a path paved with 'starlight.'
Everyone instinctively turned towards the entrance—and gasped.
Wayne walked at the centre, holding Gabrielle's hand as she wore a princess-style dress.
Astoria, Cho, Hermione, Luna, Fleur, Sakura, Tomoyo, and Cassandra flanked them in an inverted triangular formation.
The girls' gazes fell upon Wayne, while the boys looked towards the elaborately dressed young ladies.
Apart from the adorable little girl who resembled a real princess, the other young women were all radiant, each with their own distinct style.
Astoria's outfit was similar to Gabrielle's – the most standard princess dress, delicate and demure, perfectly matching all the fairy-tale descriptions of noble maidens or princesses.
Fleur wore a silver mermaid gown that trailed behind her, her figure swaying gracefully. The dress sparkled with crushed diamonds and silver sequins that shimmered in harmony with her hair.
Cassandra's red gown carried a Bohemian flair. Today, she sported fiery red lips and glittering jewels, her appearance strikingly aggressive.
Yet the faint smile on her lips softened this uncomfortable impression somewhat.
Cho wore a traditional cheongsam today, her elegance on full display.
At Hogwarts, Cho had always been highly popular.
Though her features might not be as exquisite as Fleur's or Astoria's, her exotic charm alone was enough to turn countless heads.
Pity that Wayne had claimed her first, leaving no one daring enough to make advances.
Hermione had changed into a light purple robe today, her usually bushy hair tied up in a bun, and even her demeanour seemed different.
Many Gryffindors gaped in disbelief – was this really the same know-it-all who usually carried around twenty books?
But after the initial shock came admiration for Wayne.
Indeed, no girl who passed Lawrence's selection could ever be poor.
As for Sakura and Tomoyo, their outfits might as well have been a matching couple's attire – both wore tulle dresses resembling wedding gowns, complete with tiaras.
Sakura's was pure, unblemished white, while Tomoyo's was mysteriously elegant black.
Finally, even Luna, often overlooked, had undergone a dramatic transformation today.
Her golden hair was tied into a high ponytail, with two curled strands framing her face. The usual bizarre carrot earrings had been replaced by sapphire studs, driving the girls who normally scorned her mad with jealousy.
How unfair!
How could Lawrence invite such a mad girl!
Wayne couldn't even be bothered to spare these people a glance.
Ever since he had dealt with them, no one in the entire school dared to target Luna, let alone bully her.
They should be thanking their lucky stars he wasn't the one bullying them.
Watching the group of lively young girls accompany Wayne to the only vacant table, a flicker of disappointment flashed in Dumbledore's eyes.
Where was the bloodbath he had anticipated?
The boy hadn't crashed and burned?
Merlin knew how long he'd been waiting for this day.
He'd always been the one left frustrated by Wayne, and now, when the perfect opportunity of the Yule Ball had finally arrived, the expected chaos hadn't materialised.
It was easy to imagine just how disgruntled Dumbledore felt.
He wasn't the only one in such a mood—Snape, in particular, shared it.
Seeing Wayne surrounded by beauties, while recalling his own humiliating school days and the loss of Lily to another...
His mood soured even further...
Sirius covertly gave Wayne a thumbs-up in admiration, then stared at his empty plate, feeling utterly famished.
Dumbledore picked up the menu and said clearly to his plate, "Pork chop!"
A pork chop immediately appeared.
Seeing this, the others quickly caught on and began ordering their favourite dishes.
Dumbledore started exchanging jokes with Katerina and Karkaroff, then somehow the conversation drifted to school security measures.
Karkaroff preened with pride.
"Though Beauxbatons and Hogwarts are also hidden, believe me, no one but Durmstrang students can find our school."
"Oh?" Crouch paused in carving his lamb leg and asked earnestly, "And what about you?"
"What?" Karkaroff looked at him, puzzled.
"How did you 'leave' Britain and become Headmaster there?"
Karkaroff's expression darkened slightly, while the other Headmasters' curiosity was piqued.
To go from a suspected Death Eater who endured imprisonment to the Headmaster of one of Europe's three great magical schools, wielding immense influence—such a journey was nothing short of legendary. Those who knew the details were all curious about how Karkaroff had managed it.
But Karkaroff deftly sidestepped the question, awkwardly changing the subject.
...
Though Gabrielle could manage some conversational English, many words were still unfamiliar to her. Wayne ordered her a cream soup and some duck breast, planning to add more later if she finished.
Their table had clearly become the centre of attention. Watching the girls continuously serve Wayne dishes, many gritted their teeth in envy.
The House-elves in the kitchen had undoubtedly pulled out all the stops today—even the picky Fleur couldn't find fault.
Wayne even spotted Chinese dishes on the menu. He ordered spicy chicken and fish-flavoured shredded pork, eating them with chickpea rice.
Dancing later would be strenuous—he needed to eat his fill.
Gabrielle finished quickly and dutifully served Wayne soup and dishes, even neglecting her own sister.
Finally, as the meal concluded, Dumbledore rose to his feet.
The students instinctively rose to their feet as he waved his wand, sending all the tables and chairs flying to the walls before conjuring a high stage adorned with various musical instruments.
At that moment, the Weird Sisters took to the stage, and the audience erupted into thunderous applause, with many even screaming.
Yet Wayne remained unimpressed. These people deliberately dressed in tattered clothes with their faces obscured by unkempt hair.
They were essentially the wizarding world's equivalent of punk rockers.
However, the music they played wasn't the heavy metal rock one might expect, but rather a soothing melody.
As the music began, the champions naturally led their partners onto the dance floor.
Hermione and the others did the same, though their male companions remained rooted in place.
Cedric and the rest had already started dancing, but their gazes—like those of every other spectator—remained fixed on Wayne.
Everyone was curious about what he would do.
Finally, Wayne moved.
With a single step from the young man, an invisible domain enveloped the entire Great Hall.
The audience merely blinked, and suddenly, there were eight Waynes.
Eight identical Waynes approached eight young ladies, each bowing gracefully before taking their delicate hands and pressing a gentle kiss to them.
Then, they began dancing elegantly to the Weird Sisters' music.
This bizarre spectacle left the spectators utterly stunned.
Cedric stepped on Angelina's foot, but neither bothered with apologies as they wordlessly edged closer to Wayne and Tomoyo's position. Cedric pretended to accidentally brush against Wayne's arm.
It was solid!
Moreover, Wayne turned to glare at him, silently telling him to piss off.
"What kind of magic is this?" Madame Maxime asked incredulously while dancing with Hagrid.
Hagrid just grinned foolishly. "Wayne's always been a right extraordinary one, he 'as. Ain't no magic from 'im would ever surprise me."
Dumbledore maintained a composed facade as he danced with Headmaster Katerina, though his eyes gleamed with sharp intensity.
The power of time...
He could sense an invisible force enveloping him, yet he offered no resistance.
To be precise, this force affected everyone present, yet none were aware of it.
When he attempted to probe Wayne with magic, he made the startling discovery that the boy seemed to be in constant motion while simultaneously remaining absolutely still.
Even Dumbledore couldn't maintain his calm composure now.
It wasn't just the sheer power and mystery of this magic that astonished him.
More importantly...
You've mastered the formidable power of time, and you're using this terrifying ability to chase girls???
The old headmaster swore that even if Harry were to become the Dark Lord someday, Wayne never would.
What kind of Dark Lord would be this frivolous!