Isolde secretly took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down as she constantly comforted herself inwardly.
Narcissa was still young, and the distance wasn’t very close; she probably hadn’t heard the specific content, but was just glancing over casually.
Besides, at that distance, even if it were a bit closer, anyone sitting at the Ravenclaw table shouldn’t have been able to hear it clearly.
The most important thing right now was to invite Bellatrix, rather than causing extra complications.
Fortunately, Narcissa only glanced indifferently for a moment before withdrawing her gaze, turning her head to converse with the young witch beside her.
Not looking over this way again, Isolde’s hanging heart finally relaxed slightly.
She withdrew her gaze, looking back at her still-shocked roommates in front of her, her eyes carrying a hint of entreaty:
“You must help me keep this matter a secret; absolutely nothing can leak out.”
The blond roommate was the first to fully snap back to her senses, hurriedly nodding vigorously as she patted her chest and lowered her voice to guarantee:
“Rest assured! Our lips are sealed; we will never say a single word of this out! Such a bold sentiment, how could we possibly use it to gossip.”
The bespectacled roommate also hurriedly picked up the glasses that had fallen on the table, put them back on haphazardly, and chimed in repeatedly: “I won’t say it either, rest assured.”
Lucy frowned, her face full of worry, yet she didn’t object anymore, only letting out a soft sigh:
“We can’t think of any particularly good methods for the time being, after all, no one has ever done this kind of thing, but we will keep an eye out for you and quietly ask what Bellatrix likes?”
“Before the Christmas Ball, we’ll also help you think about what Christmas gifts can win her favor; we can at least be of a little help.”
“However, with her, I’m afraid there won’t be any future.”
Even though they felt this matter was utterly absurd, looking at the sincere and steadfast affection in Isolde’s eyes, the three roommates ultimately chose to stand by her side.
Isolde felt a warmth in her heart.
“I know, thank you.”
For the entire rest of the day, Isolde was restless.
Word had it that Bellatrix should be appearing together with Rodolphus Lestrange.
But that was just hearsay; no one had actually seen it.
When night finally fell, the Hogwarts Great Hall was decorated brilliantly, with Christmas trees hung full of colored lights and gifts.
Melodious dance music echoed through the hall, and the students, dressed in their finest attire, danced in twos and threes.
Isolde had changed into a simple light blue long dress, and watching the crowd embracing and dancing in the dance floor, her gaze involuntarily locked onto a corner.
Bellatrix was standing right there.
She hadn’t entered the dance floor yet.
The arrogance between her brows was increasingly dazzling, and she was surrounded by quite a few wizards wanting to invite her to dance, yet all of them were coldly rebuffed by her one by one.
Her entire body radiated an aura of “strangers keep away”.
Isolde clenched her palms, took a deep breath, and amidst her roommates’ encouraging gazes, walked step by step toward that dazzling figure.
With every step she took, her heartbeat quickened by a fraction, and her legs felt as heavy as if filled with lead.
The invitation script she had rehearsed countless times in her mind was almost entirely forgotten by the time it reached her lips.
Merlin, when she was truly in front of her target of affection, she became shy again.
Walking up in front of Bellatrix, she stopped in her tracks.
Sensing someone approaching, Bellatrix slowly raised her eyes, her gray eyes sweeping over Isolde.
Her eyes instantly tinged with a bit of impatience and disdain, her tone cold and acerbic.
“What? The Handmaiden Winnier, haven’t you lost enough in the Dueling Arena, running over to the ball to ask for unhappiness?”
In her eyes, Isolde was merely a young witch who always loved to challenge her to duels yet suffered defeat every single time.
A young witch of Ravenclaw, a little eagle who liked to challenge herself.
Truly lacking any sense of presence, she even found her annoying.
The wizards who had originally surrounded her also looked at Isolde with curiosity, wanting to see what this little Ravenclaw witch wanted to do.
Isolde intentionally controlled her voice to carry a slight tremble, yet it was exceptionally clear:
“The Handmaiden Black, if you don’t have a dance partner, I would like to invite you to dance a dance with me, is that okay?”
As soon as these words came out, the surroundings instantly plunged into a dead silence, the originally bustling dance music seeming to have been pressed pause on.
The wizards gathered around looked completely astonished, staring at Isolde in disbelief as if they had heard some bizarre fairy tale.
Bellatrix was even more stunned for a moment, clearly not expecting her to say such words.
Immediately, the corners of her mouth hooked into a sarcastic and annoyed smile, the disdain in her eyes growing even thicker, and she almost laughed out of anger.
“What did you say? Invite me to dance? Winnier, have you lost your mind?”
She looked Isolde up and down, her tone filled with acrimony and rejection:
“I have no interest in dancing with you and becoming the laughingstock of everyone on the dance floor.”
“Put away your… absurd thoughts, and don’t stand here getting in the way.”
As arrogant as she was, let alone dancing with someone of the same sex.
This rejection was completely merciless.
Every word carried sharp sarcasm, and the murmurs of discussion from around could also be faintly heard.
Isolde lowered her eyes, feigning sadness.
Her voice was soft, yet carried full sincerity:
“Alright, I’m not here to challenge you, um… you really look very pretty today.”
As her words fell, Isolde’s cheeks turned completely red, and she lowered her head in a panic, her fingertips gripping her skirt hem tightly.
Bellatrix, who had originally been full of impatience and sarcasm, suddenly paused.
She looked at Isolde in front of her with her head lowered, cheeks flushed all over, and her whole body exuding constraint and shyness.
A trace of obvious astonishment flashed through her gray eyes, and she blinked slightly.
The acrimony and anger in her tone instantly dissipated, replaced by a bit of bewilderment and helplessness.
She even suspected whether she had misheard.
First being invited to dance by a little Ravenclaw witch, and now being straightforwardly praised for being pretty?
What does she mean?
Bellatrix looked at Isolde’s reddened ear tips, a strange emotion inexplicably welling up in her heart.
She was silent for a few seconds, looking at Isolde who still kept her head lowered, her tone awkward.
“What?”
Pausing for a moment, she averted her eyes and unconsciously frowned.
When her gaze looked elsewhere, her ear tips quietly tinged with an extremely faint blush.
“Oh—consider you… to have some taste.”
Having said that, she no longer looked at Isolde, turning around and walking toward a secluded spot outside the dance floor.
Leaving Isolde alone, stunned in place, not yet recovered from the previous response.
Isolde abruptly raised her head, watching Bellatrix’s departing back.
Although she failed, the effect of the conversation seemed alright?
The Handmaiden Black likes being directly praised?
[Beep! Congratulations to the host for praising the target of affection “Bellatrix Black” and receiving a response.]
[Reward obtained: This system has finally spoken to you once.]
[Hoping the host will keep up the good work.]