Chapter 222: The Backlash of Fate

"You say Parvati was foolish and refused?" Zhang Qiu looked astonished. "She'll suffer the backlash of fate."

"It's not entirely her own fault—Lavender egged her on." Harry rubbed his temples, feeling a vein throb there.

"Well, if all else fails, we can still dance separately." Zhang Qiu said. "I have a blue-and-white qipao. As for Ron and Alina, you two might as well use this chance to buy matching outfits in Diagon Alley."

"Thanks, but I'd rather spend Christmas in Gilneas—I think werewolf countries are way more fun than dances." Ron spoke listlessly.

"Yeah, I don't have money either." Alina shrugged. "If I wear the Dreamwalk Corridor again, Renata will laugh at me mercilessly—Kevin's already my last resort."

Hearing Alina use the word "also," Ron's expression darkened further.

"Alright, no more talk." Harry stood up abruptly. "I'm writing to Sirius right now—we're not staying here this year."

"Exactly, we're not going." Ron agreed.

"Then we'll stay here." Zhang Qiu said. "Whatever you plan to make Eve do, I'll support it—it might help a little."

The night before Christmas, Harry and Ron sat in the common room, eating maple waffles and fiddling with their sticky fingers on wizard chess, until Harry's queen cried out, "Don't touch me with those dirty hands!"—and then something miraculous happened.

Parvati came over and greeted them, blushing nervously. "Harry, sorry to bother you, but—I was wondering, are you and Ron free?"

"You?" Harry paused. "Don't you think I'm oppressing you?"

Parvati twisted her fingers in front of her, shyly saying, "I'm sorry—it was Lavender who pushed me to say that. I never really agreed with her."

"Also, my sister is free too—she's willing to be Ron's dance partner." She added.

Harry felt a faint stirring of interest, but only because of the prophecy's weight. He hesitated slightly, then asked, "Ron, what do you think?"

"Come on, didn't we already agree?" Ron scowled at Parvati. "Gilneas. That's settled."

"Alright," Harry shrugged. "Sorry, Parvati—we're going somewhere else for Christmas. Someone will pick us up at noon tomorrow."

"But," Parvati's voice grew anxious, "if you can't find a dance partner—"

"Come on," Harry snapped. "In my view, the dance partner system is oppression of women. Who says you need one to dance? That's feudal conditioning—unacceptable. Dancing alone better shows a woman's independence and strength."

Ron burst out laughing.

"But I'm Indian. My mom wrote me— if I don't find a dance partner in fourth year, it's humiliating. I might never get married." She cried.

"So who told you to follow British noble girls around?" Ron sneered.

"Let me think." Harry's sympathy stirred—he genuinely considered it, even though Sirius had clearly written back: "Come to the Three Broomsticks at ten a. . on Christmas morning to pick you up."

"Harry, don't." Ron grumbled. "She brought it on herself."

"Don't rush, Parvati." Harry thought. "I can't be your partner, but I might find you one—and your sister's too. And they're both pure-blood nobles."

"But it's late now. Wait for my news tomorrow."

Early the next morning, Harry sorted through his gifts: Sir Crowley gave him a watch, Eve gave him a book, Ron gave him a bag of dung bombs, Hagrid gave him a box of sweets, and Sirius gave him a pencil sharpener. Aside from the ticking Rolex, none were expensive—but Harry cherished the thought behind each.

Harry and Ron went downstairs for breakfast and successfully spotted Malfoy and his two bulky, dim-witted sidekicks at the table.

"Hey, Malfoy, I need to talk to Crabbe and Goyle." Harry said. "Did you find dance partners yet?"

"Hmm, good question. Did you find one for me, Goyle?"

"I didn't have time—I've been with you the whole time."

"So, boss, did you find us any partners?"

"No." Malfoy sighed. "I warned you to find partners two hundred years ago. What's next? Should I remind you not to forget to eat?"

"Perfect—I've got a pair of sisters who still need partners." Harry said. "Parvati and Padma. Both are quite pretty."

"Thanks, Harry," Crabbe said honestly. "Though I didn't really care much about it."

"Yeah, better than nothing," Goyle agreed.

"I'm speechless." Malfoy spread his hands. "Even if you help them regain a shred of dignity, they'll lose it again in seconds."

"Whatever. Just think about what color clothes to wear." Harry smiled.

As they left the Great Hall and headed toward Hogsmeade, Ron finally burst into laughter.

"I might be able to find you a dance partner," he mimicked Harry's gentle, confident tone from last night. "And they're pure-blood nobles! Pure-blood! Noble! I'm dying laughing."

"Count the people around us," Harry shrugged. "Who else hasn't found a partner the night before the dance?"

"Seriously, I think dancing with them is more embarrassing than having no partner at all." Ron still laughed. "This is what Zhang Qiu meant by the backlash of fate."

"Enough." Harry glanced at his new watch. "We need to hurry."

In Hogsmeade, as soon as Harry and Ron entered the Three Broomsticks, they saw a familiar figure. Lupin sat at a table, calmly sipping butterbeer, while across from him, Sirius was speaking.

"... sternly asked him: what does my Regulus have to do with your capture of Sirius?"

While Lupin pounded the table laughing, Harry stepped forward to greet them.

"Oh, Harry, Ron." Sirius said. "I didn't expect you to join us—after all, Hogwarts is having a dance."

"We didn't really want to go," Harry shrugged. "We already went to one at Beauxbatons."

Though both elder friends now held leadership roles, neither had much family. So both Lupin and Sirius felt deep warmth and joy at Harry and Ron's arrival.

They Apparated to the presidential residence in Gilneas, where Lupin now lived. But since he'd just moved in, it still felt empty.

A woman with pink bubblegum-colored hair stepped out. She had a pale heart-shaped face and glossy black eyes. Like many rebellious young witches, she wore a Weird Sisters shirt and patched jeans. When she saw Harry and the others, she suddenly grinned.

"This is Tonks, my niece—cousin, actually." Sirius introduced. "These are Harry and Ron—my godson and his best friend."

"Hello," Tonks greeted them.

"She's an Animagus and a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Just became an Auror this year." Sirius said. "I invited her to help with some unfinished business, so she stayed to spend Christmas with us."

"Alright, kids, let's decorate the Christmas tree before nightfall." Tonks clapped her hands. "This place is as cold as a haunted house."

"Ah, that's normal. Loneliness is the companion of power." Sirius said, slightly melancholy.

"I'll handle the turkey." Lupin clapped his hands. "Any dietary restrictions? Anyone hate carrots?"

"My advice: stuff the turkey with a spring chicken." Sirius said. "You've got two growing boys here."

The newly built presidential residence buzzed with festive laughter. Nearby, other werewolf camps—some in wooden huts, others in tents—were also brightly lit and lively.

After dinner, they stepped outside, gathered some idle werewolves, and held a raucous bonfire party.

Harry and Ron joined them, singing unfamiliar songs, dancing with wild, carefree movements. Everyone's faces glowed with happiness, even though most of their robes were faded and patched.

"I owe you thanks," a drunken man staggered over with a bottle. "I used to say I was a wizard who just had lycanthropy. Now I can proudly say: I am a werewolf—a legal resident of Gilneas!"

"Our lives are so much better now," said a middle-aged woman. "No more fear of exposure, no more discrimination or abuse."

"The Dark Lord treated us as tools. Only you treat us as people." Another man said. "To have such a president—we're so lucky!"

Suddenly, the drunken werewolf howled, "Ugh... the King!"

"Yeah, King! We adore you!"

"Wah! I'd die for you anytime!"

Amid the rising wave of cheers, Harry half-smiled as he watched Lupin's face—his eyes remained steady, and the awkwardness slowly melted into warm smiles.