"So the secret weapon you used to defeat the Daywalker Claven was dual-hand casting, correct?" Xenophilius Lovegood asked while scribbling in his notebook.
"Yes," Sean replied. "Actually, it was very close at the end. He nearly hit me. I was just lucky enough to seize the opportunity to counterattack."
Sean's explanation of the final moments of the fight was a mixture of truth and omission.
"A twelve-year-old wizard with the astonishing talent of dual-hand casting… truly remarkable," Lovegood said with admiration.
"Dad, I read about him in A Modern History of Magic," Luna suddenly said, blinking her large eyes at Sean. "He's on the page after Harry Potter—the second survivor of the Killing Curse in this century."
"I didn't even know I'd been written into A Modern History of Magic," Sean said with a smile.
"There's only one book about you," Luna added bluntly. "Harry Potter has several."
"Well… he's a big celebrity," Sean said helplessly, spreading his hands.
"Luna," Lovegood said softly, stopping his daughter before she could say anything more impolite.
After Sean's interview ended, Lovegood took Luna to find another contestant. In truth, he was particularly interested in the mysterious half-vampire. The style of The Quibbler often revolved around strange and rare magical creatures.
Afterward, Sean was interviewed by Witch Weekly, New York Specter, African Wizarding News, and Rainforest Today.
Only Wizarding Fashion Guide ignored him—probably because he was too young and dressed too plainly.
The interviews had started at nine in the morning and didn't end until eleven.
During that time there were countless photographs—individual portraits, team photos, and finally a large group photo. By the end of it all, Sean felt completely exhausted.
When the final group picture of all twenty-four contestants was finished, Sean loosened the collar of his shirt and let out a long breath.
"Finally over."
At that moment, Penelope, dressed in a black gown, called out to him.
Sean turned his head.
He hadn't paid much attention to this Ravenclaw senior before, but now that she was wearing her own dress instead of school robes, she actually looked quite beautiful. No wonder Percy was so infatuated with her.
"What is it?" Sean asked tiredly.
"Sean, you're quite famous now," Penelope said with a smile. "Although you were already pretty well-known before this. Actually, a few girls from our house wanted your autograph."
Sean was a little surprised. He hadn't expected to have fans already.
He readily agreed.
Just when Sean thought he could finally return to his dormitory to rest, Professor McGonagall stopped the six team members with a gentle smile.
"As everyone knows, Hogwarts is the host of this tournament. And since we're currently ranked first, according to tradition, we will hold a ball on the evening of March first."
Hearing this, Sean suddenly felt a strange sense of familiarity—and dread.
"A ball," McGonagall continued, "and what is the most important part of a ball?"
She paused briefly.
"Dancing. As the host school's representatives, I expect each of you to display the finest manners."
Sean's heart sank.
Wasn't this a tradition from the Triwizard Tournament? Why did the Four-School Friendship Tournament have a dance too?
And the problem was—
He couldn't dance.
"Professor, I don't know how to dance," Sean said innocently, attempting to escape disaster.
"You are the representatives," McGonagall replied firmly. "You'll be leading the opening dance. Not knowing how to dance won't do. Perhaps I could help you practice."
Sean shook his head rapidly like a rattle drum.
"No need, Professor. I'll figure something out."
"I've already notified all the houses," McGonagall said with a smile. "You must find your dance partners before tomorrow evening."
As soon as McGonagall left, the quick-thinking Zach confidently bowed toward Penelope.
With a gentlemanly flourish, he extended his hand.
"Beautiful lady, may I invite you to be my partner for the ball?"
"I refuse," Penelope replied instantly, not wasting even a second.
There was only one day left before March first.
Finding a dance partner in such a short time could be difficult.
Sean remembered how Harry and Ron had struggled desperately to find partners at the last minute. He decided he definitely wouldn't end up in such an awkward situation.
Back in the Slytherin common room, Sean was stopped by Cassius.
"Sean, Professor Snape left a package for you."
"Snape gave me something?" Sean asked in surprise.
He accepted the package and opened it right there.
Inside was a set of clothes.
Sean lifted it out.
"A dress robe," Cassius said.
It wasn't particularly fancy—just a simple black formal outfit. But the size looked perfect for Sean.
"Professor Snape must have known I didn't have formal clothes for tomorrow," Sean said gratefully. "He sent this just in time."
"You're lucky," Cassius sighed enviously. "I have to wear my brother's old robes."
"You should be thankful," Sean replied. "You haven't seen truly ancient dress robes."
Of course, he was thinking of Ron's infamous hand-me-down dress robes.
"By the way, have you seen Chris?" Sean asked.
He certainly wasn't going to make the same mistake as Harry and Ron—ignoring the most obvious and convenient person to invite.
"I think she went to see her grandfather," Cassius replied.
"Really? Mr. Crouch was in the Great Hall earlier. I didn't see her there," Sean said thoughtfully.
Sean's invitation plan ran into a small problem.
Chris was nowhere to be seen the entire afternoon.
During that time, one or two girls had shyly approached Sean and invited him instead.
But Sean politely declined them.
Dancing with someone he barely knew would feel awkward. It would be much more natural with a friend.
That evening during dinner in the Great Hall, Sean noticed Chris still hadn't appeared.
"Where did Chris go?" he asked casually.
"Sean, are you planning to invite Chris to the ball?" Cassius asked.
"Yeah," Sean replied honestly. "It's the easiest option. What about you? Are you planning to invite her?"
"Not a chance," Cassius said immediately. "She'd definitely reject me. Haven't you noticed how she always looks at me like I'm an idiot?"
At that moment, a cold voice suddenly came from behind him.
"Cassius… what exactly were you saying about me?"
Cassius instantly broke out in cold sweat.
Chris had returned.
She walked around the long table and sat down across from them.
"Where did you go all afternoon?" Sean asked.
"I went out with my grandfather," Chris replied, scooping up a spoonful of crystal-clear strawberry pudding.
"I see. Since you weren't here this afternoon, I assume no one invited you to the ball yet?"
Sean went straight to the point.
"Do you want to be my partner?"
Chris paused.
The strawberry pudding slipped off her spoon and fell back into the bowl.
She looked up at Sean.
"The representatives are supposed to lead the opening dance," Sean explained quickly. "I don't know how to dance. I figured Miss Crouch should be able to handle it. Can you guide me a little?"
"Couldn't your invitation be a bit more gentlemanly?" Chris shook her head.
Sean laughed awkwardly.
Perhaps he had been too direct.
Girls from noble families cared about etiquette. Maybe she would refuse now.
"Alright," Chris suddenly said.
"We'll dance together."
She hesitated slightly before continuing.
"Only… your formal clothes…"
She didn't finish the sentence.
She knew Sean's family wasn't wealthy and wondered whether he had prepared suitable attire.
Sean let out a relieved sigh.
Glancing toward the professors' table, he said:
"Professor Snape already prepared them for me."
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