Frost clung to the enchanted ceiling in intricate patterns, catching the candlelight like diamonds. Wreaths of eternal holly wound around the marble columns, their berries glowing faintly red. The house tables were gone, replaced by small round tables draped in silver and green, each adorned with floating ice sculptures that shifted shape as the music swelled.

Students filtered in through the grand doors, dressed in robes that shimmered and glittered under the thousand floating candles. Laughter echoed off the walls. The orchestra tuned their instruments near the far end, beneath the staff table where McGonagall sat watching with a rare, approving smile.

Near the entrance, a cluster of Slytherins lingered.

Students began to move toward the dance floor. Couples paired off. Laughter softened into something more expectant.

And somewhere across the hall, near the edge of the crowd, near the shadows where the candlelight didn't quite reach—

Someone was standing alone.