The Yule Ball was approaching, a time of excitement and nervous anticipation for the students of Hogwarts. The halls buzzed with chatter about dates, dress robes, and dance preparations. However, for Dante Malfoy, the event held little interest. Even during his time as a champion, he had barely been invested in such social affairs. Now, as a professor, he saw no reason to attend at all. He considered simply skipping it entirely—after all, he wasn't required to participate.
But then he thought of Luna.
He recalled how much she had enjoyed the ball before. The light in her eyes when she danced, the way she effortlessly found joy in things he and others dismissed. That alone made him reconsider.
With that in mind, Dante sought out Luna. It didn't take long to find her in the Ravenclaw Tower, sitting by a window with a book in her lap, idly flipping through its pages.
"Luna," Dante called as he approached.
She looked up, her silver eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Hello, Professor Malfoy."
Dante gave a slight smile. "Are you interested in the Yule Ball? If no one has invited you, let me know, I'll go with you."
Luna blinked once, then smiled dreamily. "That sounds lovely. I do look forward to such events. Thank you, Dante."
She agreed without hesitation, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And for them, perhaps it was.
News of this spread through the school like wildfire, igniting a fierce debate among the students. Some argued that it was improper for a student to attend the ball with a professor, even if Dante was only a few years older than Luna. Others scoffed at the idea, pointing out the absurdity of expecting him to take someone like Professor McGonagall instead.
Neither Dante nor Luna paid any mind to the rumors. They were alike in that way, unconcerned with the opinions of others.
Some time later, during the weekly staff meeting, the professors gathered to discuss school matters and the upcoming Yule Ball. The conversation flowed from class performance to event logistics, but it was Dumbledore who, with his ever-present twinkle of curiosity, brought up an unexpected topic.
"I have heard," he said, glancing at Dante with an amused smile, "that you have invited Miss Lovegood to the ball. Is this true?"
Dante, who had been idly listening until now, simply nodded. "It is."
The response drew more interest than he had anticipated. The professors, one by one, turned their attention toward him, curiosity evident in their eyes. Even Snape, who normally would have no patience for such trivial gossip, seemed oddly invested in the answer.
Dumbledore leaned forward slightly, his twinkle intensifying. "And what do you think of young Miss Lovegood? Do you like her?"
Dante paused at the question, his expression unreadable as he gave it some thought. After a brief moment, he nodded and replied, "Luna is like a granddaughter. It is only natural to dote on children."
Silence followed his words.
Most of the professors exchanged strange looks, processing what he had just said. To them, Dante was only three years older than Luna. To refer to her as a granddaughter was, at the very least, bizarre.
Dumbledore and Snape, however, were taken aback for a different reason. They had expected some lingering emotion from Dante's supposed previous life. Perhaps fondness, nostalgia, or even affection but to think of Luna as a granddaughter? That was something neither of them had anticipated.
Breaking the silence, McGonagall muttered under her breath, "Why does everything have to be strange with him?"
Flitwick, hearing her comment, glanced at her. Though he didn't say it aloud, the look in his eyes made it clear, he shared the exact same sentiment.
___________
The evening of the Yule Ball arrived, and while the event proceeded almost as it had in the past, one notable change made it stand out—Luna Lovegood brought a Crumple-Horned Snorkack with her.
Draped in a shimmering, multi-colored dress with accessories that jingled softly as she moved, Luna's ensemble was further accentuated by the presence of a small, purple, horned creature cradled in her arms. The Snorkack, whether real or imagined, made the already peculiar Ravenclaw stand out even more.
From the moment they entered, Dante and Luna became the center of attention. Students whispered amongst themselves, some openly pointing at them. Even the professors exchanged glances, with McGonagall visibly widening her eyes before pressing her lips together in dismay. The unspoken question hung in the air—who brings a magical creature to a formal ball? And worse, why was a professor indulging this?
When the dancing commenced, Dante did not hesitate to follow Luna's lead. While most of the champions and their partners engaged in formal, practiced steps, Luna danced in her own whimsical manner—twirling, skipping, and moving with a dreamlike fluidity that defied convention. Rather than resist, Dante played along, matching her unpredictable rhythm with surprising ease. As an added touch, he lifted the Snorkack into the air with a simple levitation charm, allowing it to float around them as they danced.
The effect was immediate.
The already gossiping crowd erupted into hushed murmurs. Some students openly gawked, others laughed, and a few, mostly the younger Ravenclaws, clapped in quiet appreciation. Even the professors were taken aback. McGonagall, for her part, remained rigid, clearly at a loss as to how to react.
When the dance concluded, before Dante and Luna could return to their seats, a familiar voice called out.
"What in the name of Merlin was that supposed to be?!"
Draco Malfoy stormed toward them, Daphne Greengrass close behind. He looked positively scandalized, though his frustration was clearly exacerbated by the sight of the floating purple pet still hovering above them.
Dante felt an amused sense of deja vu—this scene was playing out exactly as before, though Draco's irritation was now doubled thanks to the addition of Luna's pet.
With a straight face, Dante replied, "When you have enough wisdom or live long enough, you learn not to care about the opinions of others. As long as you're enjoying the moment, nothing else really matters."
Draco scoffed. "That's ridiculous. Opinions matter! It's how you command respect!" he insisted, gesturing around at the still-gossiping students.
Dante shook his head. "Respect comes from actions and achievements, Draco, not from catering to the expectations of others. Do you think anyone here will dare look down on me because of tonight? They won't. Because they know who I am."
Draco fell silent, unable to argue the point.
Dante then turned to Luna. "You can go dance more if you'd like. I'll sit this one out."
Luna smiled brightly. "Alright. Can you take care of Loony for me?"
Dante blinked. It was the first time he had heard the name given to her pet. He let out a small chuckle, finding it oddly fitting—a reminder to all who had doubted Luna over the years.
"Of course."
With the Snorkack in hand, Dante moved toward the group of professors. The moment McGonagall noticed him approaching, she fixed him with a stern look.
"Professor Malfoy, this is highly inappropriate, especially in front of the other schools."
Dante sighed. "It's fine."
Then, as if a thought had just occurred to him, he added casually, "But if they do have something to say about it, if they insult the school, I'll make sure they spend the rest of their stay walking on their knees."
McGonagall's eyes widened in sheer horror at the mere suggestion.
Dante allowed himself a small, amused smile at her reaction. Before she could reprimand him, Dumbledore spoke up, his usual twinkle in his eyes. "As tempting as that may be, I must insist that you refrain from doing so."
McGonagall turned her glare toward Dumbledore, clearly displeased by how easily he was taking all of this. While she acknowledged that Dante was a remarkable wizard, she still believed that a young professor should not be given so much freedom.
Yet, as she watched Dante absentmindedly stroke the floating Snorkack with a small, knowing smile, she realized something.
With him, things were always going to be strange.