novelcrest Chapter 493 Dancing in Progress
Chapter 493 Dancing in Progress
Chapter 493 Dancing in Progress (Part 1)
The Christmas ball has officially begun.
As the melodious tune began, the warriors in the center of the dance floor slowly took their first steps, drawing all eyes to them.
Sean gently took Fleur's hand and led her slowly onto the dance floor.
Hibiscus's satin robe swayed gently with her steps, her graceful figure exuding the unique romance and confidence of a French witch.
The other warriors also began to dance one after another. Compared to the effortless Eileen, Krum's dance moves were a bit stiff; Cho Chang and Selena coordinated very well and moved in unison; even Harry and Cedric, who were usually nervous, surprisingly performed quite well in this dance.
However, without a doubt, the most eye-catching pairing is still Sean and Fleur.
As the music gradually quickened, Sean gently flicked his wrist, and Hibiscus spun around, her skirt billowing like a rose blooming in the night.
The students watching couldn't help but let out quiet gasps of amazement.
They never imagined that a Hogwarts professor could display such flair on the dance floor.
A look of surprise appeared on Furong's face, followed by an excited smile—clearly, she hadn't expected Sean to have such dance skills.
Soon, many people went onto the dance floor.
Sean led Fleur through the dance floor with ease, every turn perfectly timed, every approach full of charm.
"Did you study dance when you were in Beauxbatons?" Sean asked in a low voice as he guided the dance steps.
Hibiscus smiled slightly: "Of course, etiquette classes are mandatory there. But I didn't expect that British professors would dance such an elegant waltz."
"Don't judge a book by its cover, Miss Delacour," Sean said with a hint of amusement, suddenly accelerating and creating a series of rapid spins.
Caught off guard, Furong instinctively grabbed his arm and let out a soft gasp. But she quickly regained her composure and continued spinning in rhythm with him.
As the dance progressed, Sean's hands began to wander restlessly over Hibiscus's back.
As he rotated, his fingers slowly slid down her spine, his fingertips lightly brushing against her sensitive skin.
Furong felt an unusual touch on her back and was momentarily dazed.
She never expected such a thing to happen on such a solemn occasion.
But then he thought, maybe it was just because the dance steps were changing too fast that Sean had to help her steady herself. After all, such a fast-paced dance does require close cooperation between the two.
Moreover, Sean is usually very proper in his dealings with people, so he must have just acted unintentionally.
In addition, in such a crowded setting, even the slightest sway could affect the dance partners around you.
Thinking of this, Furong relaxed her guard a little and continued to turn to the rhythm of the music.
However, as the hand continued downwards, almost touching her lower back, Furong couldn't help but tense up.
That chilling sensation became even more pronounced.
Each touch sent a jolt of electricity through her back.
Her rational mind told her she should stop the dance immediately, but a voice deep inside reminded her: perhaps this was just part of the instructional steps? After all, classical dances like the waltz require many movements to maintain a close distance between partners.
The music continued, and the dance steps became increasingly skillful.
Furong tried her best to immerse herself in the elegant dance, wanting to ignore the touches behind her that made her heart race.
She even began to wonder if she was being too sensitive—in such a romantic atmosphere, any young woman would probably feel something different about the opposite sex.
Just then, Sean's fingers suddenly pressed hard, accurately pressing on the most sensitive spots on both sides of her spine.
This sudden feeling almost made Hibiscus lose her composure; she had to bite her lower lip to stay calm.
Is it a hallucination?
still----
Hibiscus looked up, staring at Sean, observing the expression on his face. When Sean noticed her gaze, he asked her a question.
"What's wrong?"
"It's nothing... I'm probably just a little tired," Furong replied softly, inwardly blaming herself for being so suspicious.
Sean's expression was indeed open and at ease, with no frivolous or smug look in his eyes.
Perhaps I'm just being too sensitive.
With another turn, Sean's hand once again inadvertently brushed against her waist.
This touch made her hold her breath, but she was quickly distracted by the next dance step.
The surrounding lights flickered, and in the dappled candlelight, Furong found herself even beginning to anticipate where his hand would land the next time she turned around.
The moment this thought crossed her mind, she secretly berated herself.
It must be because the atmosphere tonight is so special, she thought: the moonlight, the music, the champagne, and the faint scent of cedar in the air—perhaps it's from his cologne.
Sean found it amusing to see the witch's blushing face.
That's it?
It seems that Furong also has a rather sensitive constitution.
Or rather, the witch, who had never had any romantic experience, was so sensitive when she was in such close contact with a man for the first time.
So he deliberately slowed down his dance steps, holding her tighter as he spun around, feeling her soft body tremble slightly in his arms, and listening to her breathing as she tried her best to keep calm.
As it turned out, the beautiful French witch before him gradually succumbed to his control.
At the same time, the system notification sounded as expected.
Progress completed: 1/6
Although Sean was confident that if he jumped again, he could "develop" Hibiscus to a greater extent, he had to give up for the time being due to time constraints.
After finishing the dance, Sean smiled at Fleur and then slowly left the auditorium under her somewhat reluctant gaze.
As for Sean's departure, the other witches kept a close eye on Hermione, who stood by the dance floor, nervously twisting the hem of her skirt and anxiously looking around.
In fact, from the moment the first dance ended, she could feel many eyes on her—some curious, some with a hint of snickering and doubt.
The reason is simple: her dance partner has still not appeared.
Hermione didn't care about other people's opinions at first, but when several wizards around her started whispering about it, and some girls even covered their mouths and laughed, she began to feel a little embarrassed.
"Why is she all alone?"
"Is it because no one wants to be her dance partner?"
"How pitiful—"
The whispers made Hermione blush slightly. She straightened her back and tried to appear indifferent, but her fingers were still twisting the hem of her skirt, betraying her nervousness.
Just as she was forcing herself to take a deep breath, Harry and Ron rushed over.
"Hermione, what's wrong?" Harry asked with concern. He had just been dancing with Parvati when he turned around and found Hermione standing by the dance floor, looking a little off.
Ron looked somewhat flustered. Although he was wearing Percy's secondhand tuxedo, making him appear much more formal than usual, his slightly embarrassed face still betrayed his true feelings. He glanced at the dance floor and frowned. "Where's your partner?"
Hermione was about to explain when suddenly, a gentle and magnetic voice sounded from beside her, "Perhaps, I could be her dance partner?"
The group paused for a moment, then turned to look at each other.
Suddenly, a tall young man appeared, dressed in a well-tailored black robe, with slightly messy golden-brown hair, looking extremely handsome.
Hermione's eyes widened as she stared at him in surprise. When she saw the book in his hand, her blush deepened.
Harry and Ron were also somewhat surprised to see the boy who had suddenly appeared. They didn't know him and had never seen him at Hogwarts before, but his appearance had already attracted a lot of attention. The girls around them began to whisper, and a few even unconsciously straightened their backs, secretly casting curious glances at the boy.
The boy smiled slightly, looking at Hermione with gentle eyes, and extended his hand in a gentlemanly manner: "Miss Granger, would you mind doing me the honor of dancing?"
Hermione's cheeks burned even hotter, but without any hesitation, she reached out and placed her hand on the boy's palm, nodding gently: "Okay—okay."
The boy smiled slightly, took Hermione's hand, and gracefully led her to the dance floor.
The moment they stepped onto the dance floor, the surrounding chatter subsided considerably. Many people looked curiously at the mysterious boy who had suddenly appeared, and at Hermione's somewhat shy yet delighted expression.
Who else could this guy be but Sean in disguise?
As the dance progressed, Hermione's heart was pounding uncontrollably.
She never danced with Professor Phillips in public—even though Professor Phillips had changed his appearance.
Sean gently took her hand, while his other hand rested naturally on her waist, guiding her to move to the rhythm of the music.
Hermione froze, her body stiffening, and she involuntarily held her breath.
So comfortable————
"Relax," Sean said softly, looking at the somewhat bewildered little witch in front of him. "You stepped on my foot."
Hermione then realized how clumsy her movements were, and in her panic, she almost stepped on it again.
This time, however, Sean was prepared and took the opportunity to pull her closer.
Hermione was caught off guard and leaned her entire upper body against his chest, her nose almost touching his chin.
Meanwhile, Sean's fingers were gently rubbing the back of her neck, and the tingling sensation made her legs feel weak.
As the music reached its climax, everyone else on the dance floor seemed to disappear.
Hermione was half-held by him, moving slowly in the dim light, letting his large hands explore her body strangely.
Progress completed: 2/6
In the center of the dance floor, people danced gracefully to the music, but Daphne seemed out of place at a small round table covered with an exquisite tablecloth beside the dance floor.
This ball might have been a dream for others, but for Daphne, it was utter torture.
She rested her cheek on one hand, while casually poking at the dessert on her plate with a silver fork in the other.
She poked the delicate pumpkin tart again and again, the fluffy cream trembling slightly on the fork tip, wobbling a few times before settling back perfectly intact. She hesitated to put it in her mouth, mechanically repeating the action, as if using it to vent some emotion deep within her heart.
Meanwhile, Daphne's gaze was fixed on the center of the dance floor, where Hermione Granger was twirling gracefully to the music, and her dance partner—the man—was elegantly guiding her, his hand resting on her waist.
Daphne's fingertips tightened slightly, and the silver fork trembled slightly in her hand.
"abnormal."
She gritted her teeth and practically forced the word out from the depths of her throat.
Of course she knew who that man was.
How could I not know?
It was the demon who forced me to come here, the demon who made me wear "that thing"—
At this thought, Daphne's breath hitched, and she unconsciously shifted her body slightly, sensing—
hateful----
Her cheeks were slightly flushed, whether from anger or some other emotion, she couldn't tell.
She stared down at the dessert on her plate, her fingertips trembling slightly, and suddenly felt an urge to overturn the entire plate.
But she can't.
She could only watch helplessly as the man danced gracefully on the dance floor, as if everything was perfectly natural, as if her anger and humiliation were insignificant.
Soon, the time for one song was up.
The man smiled apologetically at Hermione, then walked toward the door.
It's my turn next.
Thinking of this, Daphne gritted her teeth, her chest heaving, completely unaware that the silver fork in her hand was deformed from her grip.
"Why are you here all alone?"
A sharp female voice rang out, and Pansy Parkinson walked up to Daphne, smiling as she spoke.
Daphne didn't even bother to lift her eyelids, continuing to stare at the dessert on her plate, pretending not to have heard what she was saying.
But Pansy was clearly not someone who could be easily ignored. She raised her chin, crossed her arms, deliberately slowed her tone, and said with a smug look, "Oh, I almost forgot, you don't have a dance partner, right?"
She sighed with feigned regret, then flashed a wicked smile: "How pitiful. The ball is so lively, and you're eating dessert all alone here? You're not deliberately hiding here to avoid being noticed by others, are you?"
Daphne's fingers tightened slightly as she put down the silver fork that had been clenched so tightly it was deformed.
This bitch doesn't even want to act anymore.
"Oh? What's wrong? Are you angry?" Pansy chuckled, her tone becoming increasingly flippant. "Or are you waiting for someone?"
She narrowed her eyes and deliberately leaned closer: "Could it be that you're waiting for that mysterious male companion?"
Daphne's eyes instantly turned cold.
Pansy caught her reaction and was secretly delighted. She continued, adding fuel to the fire, "Don't tell me you really believe what he said? Someone who won't even accompany you to a dance, do you think he genuinely cares about you?"
Daphne finally raised her head, her gaze sharp as a knife, and looked straight at Pansy.
"Shut up."
Pansy was taken aback, then burst into laughter: "What? Did I hit the nail on the head? You don't actually have any expectations of him, do you?"
Daphne took a deep breath, suppressed her anger, slowly put down the silver fork in her hand, and stood up.
"Pansy, you'd better get one thing straight," she said slowly. "I'm in a really bad mood right now, and you're not far from getting a whole glass of pumpkin juice spilled on you."
Pansy was stunned for a moment, then her expression changed, and she glared angrily at Daphne: "You—"
But before she could finish speaking, a deep voice suddenly rang out beside them, "It seems I've arrived just in time."
Daphne was startled and slowly turned her head.
Sure enough, the man returned.