Youthful dreams may seem distant or unreachable, but if one never tries, never dares, will they not look back with regret as the splendor fades and age takes its toll? Perhaps the image of the black-robed boy from their dreams will remain hidden in the tender recesses of their hearts.
Faced with the wave of eager young women vying for his attention, Augustus found himself overwhelmed. Once the announcement of the ball spread, it was as if every girl across the three schools had caught the scent of honey. They strategically appeared on his path, each hoping to claim the coveted role of his dance partner. It all began with a brave first-year girl stepping forward at her friends' urging, and from there, the tide was unstoppable. Even the usually reserved young ladies of each house seemed determined to win him over, their pursuit as relentless as a child reaching for a bowl of chocolates.
To avoid drawing too much attention, Augustus began moving around alone after classes. However, he had underestimated the ingenuity of determined girls. Using enchanted clocks, scented candies, marking spells, and other magical tools, they tracked his movements with startling efficiency. At that moment, it seemed even the wizarding world had its vulnerabilities.
The clever girls didn't merely stalk him—they staged "chance" encounters in picturesque spots. In these carefully planned moments, they would coyly bring up the topic: "Do you have a partner? Would you like me to be yours?" It was an artful performance, requiring the perfect balance of innocence and shyness, along with a showcase of their best qualities. Indeed, even securing a dance partner had become a competitive ordeal.
For Augustus, politely declining their offers while maintaining a gentlemanly demeanor was equally challenging. Turning someone down required genuine tact—after all, these young women had taken a significant risk in approaching him. Regardless of their height difference or age gap, it was essential to show respect. Brusque rejections would only tarnish one's character.
Interestingly, after a few days of solitude, Augustus noticed just how many girls Hogwarts seemed to house. Faces he had never seen before appeared before him like vivid, fleeting scenery. From Gryffindor to Slytherin, it felt as though the school's female population had doubled overnight.
Take, for example, Angelina.
Augustus vaguely remembered her as the deputy captain of Gryffindor's Quidditch team.
"Hello, Mr. Augustus!" greeted Angelina with her characteristic boldness, her brown eyes sparkling with a curious light.
Augustus responded with a warm smile. "You're a senior from Gryffindor, right? It's an honor to meet you."
Angelina's expression lit up with delight. Her clear voice carried hints of happiness. "You know me? I watched your match—it was amazing! Even though I'm in Gryffindor and should support Harry, I can't help but admire your skill on a personal level."
Augustus chuckled lightly. "You play Quidditch well, too. I've seen a few of your matches and remember you quite clearly."
A faint blush spread across Angelina's face as she smiled. "You're surprisingly honest. I heard you don't have a dance partner yet. You know, plenty of girls in Gryffindor like you. Should I introduce you to a few?"
Augustus offered a wry smile. "Thank you for the thought, but I'll find a partner soon enough."
Angelina bit her lip, her frustration evident as she waved him off. "Fine, have it your way." Her fair cheeks flushed slightly. "But if you don't have a partner by then, remember to find me." With that, she turned and left.
Shaking his head with a soft laugh, Augustus couldn't help but find the encounter amusing.
In the Gryffindor common room, Ron slouched listlessly in his chair.
"Harry, you need to act soon. You're a champion! Showing up without a partner would be humiliating."
Harry sighed, his emerald eyes flickering with the image of a serene, gentle girl. He murmured under his breath, "I wonder if she's already been invited. It's probably too late now."
"What are you muttering about?" Ron asked, puzzled.
"Uh, nothing!" Harry quickly covered. "I mean, maybe I should consider asking Elia. She seems nice."
"Forget it," Hermione interrupted with a dismissive huff. "Fred already asked her."
"What?!" Ron's face twisted in surprise before sinking back into dejection. Even his brother had secured a partner, leaving him feeling like an overlooked supporting character in a tragic comedy.
"Harry, unlike us, you're a champion. With your status, you could ask any girl. You should take the initiative before all the good ones are taken." Ron, attempting to distract himself from his frustrations, turned his criticism toward Harry.
Hermione frowned but said nothing.
"I wonder if Augustus already has a partner," Harry muttered, resting his chin on his hand.
Hermione's expression grew complicated. "Given his reputation right now, not even Krum could compete with him. Of course he has a partner—you're being naive."
Ron suddenly slammed the table with determination. "That's it! We need to act too… and ask someone. We can't end up dancing with a couple of trolls!"
Hermione's face turned red with anger, her words stumbling.
"Excuse me, a couple of what?"
"Well, you know what I mean," Ron shrugged. "I'd rather go alone than, say, ask Eloise Midgen."
"Her acne's cleared up—she's actually quite pretty!"
"Her nose is a bit crooked," Ron muttered.
"Oh, I see," Hermione snapped, her voice icy with irritation. "So what you're really after is the prettiest girl who'll tolerate you, even if she's a complete nightmare?"
"Uh, yeah, that's about right," Ron admitted.
"I'm going to bed!" Hermione declared, stomping off toward the girls' dormitory without another word.
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