This adds another mysterious color to Hibiscus.

Even Hagrid could not help himself. He flipped through the book, sometimes asked Fleur for advice, and even planned to visit Newt Scamander, the legendary master of magical creatures, during Christmas.

Christmas is coming.

Krum became a dance partner with a senior wizard from Slytherin. Only Fleur was still struggling. Unable to find a suitable dance partner, she almost gave up on herself and was thinking about just becoming a dance partner with Hagrid.

Thursday, December 22nd.

As soon as Harry got up, the breath wrapped around his wrist began to tickle him, reminding him that the date was approaching.

It tickles every half hour and is very restless.

Harry ignored him and trained and attended classes as usual. He was put in detention by the professor at night before he put on the Sorting Hat and set off for the Headmaster's office.

In the Marauder's Map, Dumbledore's steps were restless.

After giving the command, Harry pushed the door open and walked in.

"Harry? Today is not Monday, and it's very late now." Dumbledore said in a surprised tone, "And if you are worried about the ball and worried that you won't be able to dance well, you should go to Professor McGonagall for tutoring."

Almost at the moment he caught Dumbledore's breath, the magic wrapped around Harry's wrist dissipated.

"Huh?" Dumbledore was startled. He reacted very quickly. For a moment, his eyes, as sharp as an eagle, looked at Harry's wrist.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked without changing his expression.

Dumbledore hesitated and shook his head. He looked over and over again, and confirmed again and again: "It's an illusion. I seem to have misunderstood something just now."

Harry nodded and sat down familiarly: "I came to you to talk to you about something."

"What's the matter?" Dumbledore nodded, sat opposite him, waved his wand, and a glass of milk appeared in front of him.

Harry picked up the cup and took a sip. "Recently I asked Skeeter to help me collect information, which may help me find the location of a Horcrux."

Dumbledore was stunned and asked in a questioning tone: "Rita Skeeter?"

Harry nodded.

"How can you convince her?" Dumbledore was surprised. "She doesn't look like a righteous person."

"I just told her that senior Tom liked to sneak into the girls' bathroom when he was in school." Harry said expressionlessly, "It's just a small thing. I thought she would like it very much. After all, it's very interesting, but she seemed to be scared."

Dumbledore opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but finally sighed: "Poor Skeeter."

"What did she find?"

Harry nodded: "Senior Tom's mother is from the Gaunt family."

"I was thinking there might be some clues at the old Gaunt house, in Little Hangletonshire."

He paused and said, "I also asked her to pay attention to the tragic case of the Gaunt family being exterminated that year. I strongly suspect that this has something to do with Senior Tom."

"You and I are thinking the same thing." Dumbledore nodded. "I was also wondering about this, but I was a little busy today, so I planned to go check it out, and then you came over."

Harry's eyes were deep.

He thought of the words in the letter: "Go to Albus on Thursday night and tell him that you are leaving with him", an incredibly accurate prophecy.

Can prophecy reach this level?

"I'll go with you." He spoke slowly, his tone firm.

Since the first prophecy came true, the following ones should be treated with more caution.

"You have classes tomorrow." Dumbledore shook his head. "And Tom may have arranged something there..."

Harry interrupted him: "Do you think I'll hold you back?"

Dumbledore was stunned and shook his head slightly. "Of course not. I may be back tonight, or it may take a long time. I don't want you to miss the Christmas ball. It is a very memorable day for you and Miss Granger."

Harry looked at him: "Then can we go a few days later?"

"It's just a few days, there's no rush."

Dumbledore said softly, "You are not one who likes to 'cause trouble' so much."

Harry deadpanned, raised his hand and lifted his hair, "I don't think I'm getting in trouble."

"I can occasionally feel the scar heating up during this period, but it's very weak. Occlumency is very useful. It protects my brain, but I can't feel at ease until the trouble is eradicated."

"Is there a way to solve the Horcrux problem?"

Dumbledore sighed and said nothing, but his attitude said it all.

Horcruxes are extremely advanced black magic, a field he has never set foot in. Moreover, over the past ten years, the Horcruxes have almost merged with Harry's soul. Occlumency is the only solution he can think of for the time being.

"If I had discovered it earlier fourteen years ago, perhaps I could have solved it." Dumbledore said with shame.

Harry shook his head, his voice firm: "There is no benefit in dwelling on the past. We need to find a way to solve it now."

"If there is Voldemort's Horcrux in the Gaunt House, that would be a good opportunity. We might be able to learn something from it."

Dumbledore thought about it and nodded slowly: "Then let's do it after the ball, December 27th. You should have a day to date Miss Granger."

Harry paused: "Professor Dumbledore, you can help me."

"I'm just an old man, how can I help you?" Dumbledore smiled and shook his head.

"Tell me the story of you and your old lover?" Harry asked naturally, "Perhaps it can give me some inspiration and experience?"

Dumbledore paused, his smile gradually faded: "Harry, maybe, maybe one day I will slowly tell you these things, but not now, I am not ready yet."

Harry finished the milk in the cup: "It seems that your old lover is a fortune teller? Is he very good? How is he compared to Professor Trilawney?"

Dumbledore didn't notice the personal pronouns Harry used. He nodded, somewhat nostalgic, "He was very powerful. Sybil could open her third eye, but she could only do so under certain circumstances and if certain conditions were met. Fate would favor her once and let the prophecy come out of her mouth."

"But he..."

"He can almost be said to be the spokesperson for fate. He himself has a pair of third eyes that can detect the traces of fate."

Harry nodded expressionlessly, "It's really him."

Dumbledore was stunned.

"Professor, you were much more exciting when you were young than I thought." Harry put down the cup.

Dumbledore nodded in agreement: "Yes, it is wonderful."

"See you on the 27th then?" Harry stood up and said goodbye to him.

Dumbledore waved at him: "Harry, you have to leave some thoughts for an old man like me."

Harry said nothing, Fawkes cooed and flew over to Harry's head and squatted down.

The Sorting Hat translated for it: "Fawkes asks when you will make another deal. It is running low on rations."

"That's ten pounds!" Harry emphasized.

Fox turned his head away, uttering an embarrassed sound.

"It's so delicious that I can't control my mouth." The Sorting Hat continued to translate.

Harry took Fawkes off and stuffed him back into his nest. He looked at Dumbledore expressionlessly, "Professor, you can't be too hard on yourself, and you can't be too hard on your phoenix. Ten pounds, that's a full ten pounds."

“It’s only been a month.”

They had made a deal before the first round, and those materials were still lying in the Sorting Hat. Harry planned to wait until after Christmas to study new potions with Professor Snape.

There weren't a lot of materials, and he had always intended to use them sparingly.

It seems that it is no longer necessary now.

Dumbledore grumbled and Fawkes cried out in grievance.

"After Christmas, you have to give Aunt Petunia some time to rest." Harry understood what the Sorting Hat meant without the need for translation. He raised his hand and touched its head. "Rations don't just appear out of thin air."

Fox sighed.

On December 25th, Christmas finally arrived, much anticipated by all the little wizards.

It snowed heavily, and the whole castle was wrapped in white.

The three schools had a friendly match before the second round of competition. The little wizards who did not become warriors were preparing for a snowball fight. They were making a lot of noise, and then it got dark, and the time for the party finally arrived.

Harry changed into the gold and red tuxedo and put on the stag brooch.

George and Fred carefully cast beauty spells on him and straightened his hair. Originally, they wanted to cover up the scar, but several senior witches chattered and gave advice, saying that this was not necessary at all.

Harry's scar is not scary, which adds a wild charm to him that ordinary wizards can hardly possess, even Krum can't possess.

After the help of more than a dozen people, Harry was finally dressed up.

Ron poked his head out and looked around the common room. The missing figure had not yet appeared. "What's wrong with Hermione? Why is she as slow as Ginny? She was never like this before."

"Girls need to dress up." Lavender gently nudged Ron, "And Hermione is different. She's the warrior's dance partner, so she has to be more cautious."

"Believe me, you boys will be surprised."

They were arguing and quarreling.

There were footsteps on the stairs leading to the girls' dormitory.

Harry looked up, and the others followed suit.

Hermione Granger walked out from inside. She was wearing light makeup, with a slight embellishment like a hibiscus emerging from the water. Her hair was tied up and fixed with a crystal crown-style hairpin. She wore a light purple robe that was as smooth as water waves, and as she walked, faint starlight ripples were emitted.

My waist straightened, dark circles were removed, and my skin, which had become a little dull due to staying up late, became smooth and delicate.

"Hermione?" George exclaimed.

Hermione nodded slightly: "It's me."

Fred pinched his brother's face. "Oh my God, it's hard to believe. You've changed so much since the beginning of the school year, but today..."

Lavender walked over and took Hermione's hand confidently: "Of course, Hermione is the heroine today, she should be like this."

Hermione was wearing high heels, which she was not used to. With the help of Lavender, she walked carefully until she reached Harry. Lavender took Hermione's hand and handed it to Harry: "Mr. Potter, Miss Granger belongs to you today. Be kind to her."

"Of course, it's my responsibility." Harry solemnly took Hermione's hand and let her hold him.

They left from the lounge.

Along the way, Harry and Hermione attracted almost everyone's attention.

No matter the warriors' identities or their attire, they are all like the bright moon among the vast stars.

There were quite a few people gathered at the entrance of the auditorium.

Krum and his dance partner didn't seem to be very familiar with each other. The two of them stood awkwardly. Fleur was holding the arm of an unknown, fairly handsome boy. The boy was very excited, his face flushed, and his body trembling slightly. In the crowd, there was a pair of resentful eyes staring at him.

Malfoy stood alone, without a dance partner.

He was wearing a dark green tuxedo, with a "Draco" star brooch on his chest. He puffed out his chest proudly, standing straight but elegantly.

Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen, nor was Maxim's striking figure, but Karkaroff was easy to spot; he stood out.

He was the only one among all the people whose clothes were somewhat tattered.

His tuxedo was covered in bite marks from knaves and claw marks from owls, and even his hair, which was greased with hairspray, smelled faintly of bird droppings—from none other than Hedwig, Bows, and their group of friends.

Crookshanks is smart.

It did not choose to harass every day, but instead delivered the most fatal blow at the most critical moment.

Professor McGonagall stood at the front of the hall and waved at Harry: "Warriors, come here."

They walked over and stood according to their grades.

McGonagall smiled, looking at Harry and Hermione, her eyes full of satisfaction: "You should dress up more, instead of just studying all day long."