Leading the invisible girls by the hand, we turned the corner and started down the stairs to the hallway in front of the Great Hall. There, in couples and other groups, wizards crowded, discussing something, having fun. For some, it was casual, and some were just hiding their excitement behind feigned merriment. I immediately found my target and nodded to Seamus in the direction of a small group. The guy nodded in response and walked a little further in order to have a good view but at the same time be in sight. He looked so lonely and sad that I wanted to hit him with an Oscar.
My goal was simple. A small group of Slytherins from our class were trying to make fun of Ron and Harry, namely: Crabbe and Goyle in matching green robes over their suits, Theodore Nott and Daphne Greengrass, who looked more than decent and even conservative, black and beige. In the center of this group was Draco in a black tailcoat, white blouse, and white waistcoat, and next to ... No, now I definitely understand Hermione's decision to give up the pink dress and other princess-style colors. Standing next to Malfoy was Pansy Parkinson in a pink dress and robe. All in some kind of bows and trinkets, and it didn't suit the green-eyed brunette with a bob at all. Not at all.
As we got closer to the target, I caught the motive for the teasing, too - Ron's costume. He, by the way, put it in order and looked like a very stately red-haired gentleman of past centuries. Very colorful, and Padma, whom the boy had invited, was more than happy with the costume. However, the dumb red-haired fellow preferred to react to Malfoy's banter over his partner's explicit approval.
"... Couldn't you find a couple of galleons for something more decent?" Draco ended his speech with his back to me.
Remembering all the nuances of Lucius's behavior and getting confirmation of data processing with the possibility of its application from Rowena, I put on a mask of an arrogant aristocrat, whose status was claimed by the loser father. They didn't notice me right away, but the silly Crabbe and Goyle's attempt to warn Malfoy was doomed to fail. Just as Draco was about to take a step forward to provoke Ron, who was already losing his temper, I yanked Malfoy sharply by the elbow with the handle of my cane.
"Draco," I spoke up, echoing Lucius's tone. "Don't disgrace the family and the school with your behavior."
For a brief moment, Malfoy didn't even move, and then he screamed sharply and jumped back, with a pale face looking at me in fear and disbelief. The range of emotions on his face was simply inexpressible, and the twins, rushing in for moral support with their presence, gave me the second thumbs up for the day.
"Knight..." Draco came to his senses quickly, and now he was turning purple with indignation, under the satisfied gaze of Ron and Potter. And the others were attracted by the noise, too, and many of them were staring at us in anticipation. As always, the crowd was hungry for bread and circuses.
"Knight..." Malfoy said again, glancing around. When he didn't see what he was looking for, he cheered up and looked at me with a smirk, fixing his hair with his hand. "Why are you alone? Where is your ... Granger?"
"Maybe she's so poor she doesn't even have a dress?" asked Pansy no less snidely. Seriously, though, she's pretty as long as she keeps quiet.
"Dress?" continued the conversation, feeling the slightly tense hand of an invisible Hermione on the bend of my elbow.
"I bet if she does show up, she'll be wearing some kind of rag."
"What else would you expect from someone like her?" grinned Malfoy.
Ron wanted to put in his weighty word because even though the guy doesn't like me, he has a perfectly developed herd instinct. "Our people get beaten up" was probably like a red rag to a bull, and it didn't matter who "our people" were, as long as they were "our people." But I don't want a fight here. Yet.
"No way," I pretended to be indignant and looked around at the Slytherins. "I'm sure Hermione has a beautiful dress."
"Wanna bet?" stepped forward Pansy.
"On what?"
"How about a wish? Or will you chicken out, Gryffindor?"
Shifting the cane into my left hand, I shook Pansy's outstretched hand. It's not customary to break here.
"Get ready, Knight," smirked Draco.
"How can you be so sure?"
They looked at each other so conspiratorially that everything fell into place.
"Could it be otherwise?" like Malfoy, Parkinson smirked, straightening the nonexistent folds on her luxurious pink dress.
Professor McGonagall was walking past us, wearing a red checkered robe and a thistle wreath adorning the brim of her hat. She would have walked by if she hadn't noticed me standing there without a pair.
"Mr. Knight," the professor looked at me sternly with a strange mixture of surprise and suit approval. "May I ask where your companion is?"
For a moment, the space to my left flashed with the black smoke of battle transgression, but it immediately dissipated, revealing Hermione in a dress as black as an abyss. The torches and fires in the bowls that served as illumination added even more depth to the blackness. With that came an even greater contrast of silver accessories and glinting embroidery. Well, my costume is just as contrasting.
"Here, Professor," Hermione smiled easily without losing face, and some students recoiled, for not everyone is familiar with the effects of battle transgression. To the uninitiated, it can seem like "creepy dark magic" because the smoke is black.
"Ooh," the professor didn't hide her surprise, and the corners of her lips quivered as if she were about to smile. "A very extraordinary transfiguration skill for a fourth-year student. Commendable, Miss Granger."
"Thank you."
"You should follow me."
The professor turned and walked on toward the doors of the Great Hall.
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