The Entrance Hall buzzed with morning activity as students shuffled through the great double doors on their way to breakfast. Snow boots clomped, scarves trailed, and sleepy yawns echoed off stone walls.
Hadrian leaned against a side column with Dora and Iris close beside him. Their eyes gleamed with anticipation.
"On your count," Dora whispered, tapping the small silver button on her enchanted wristwatch—enchanted to glow when the trigger charm took effect.
Hadrian nodded. "Three… two… one…"
All at once, the dozen suits of armor lining the hall sprang to life. But instead of merely clanking around or issuing dramatic battle cries as one might expect…
They began to dance.
One pair of armored legs clicked together with a flourish. Another did a spinning twirl. Helmets tipped like bowing heads. The suits of armor moved in coordinated steps like a chorus line, each one belting out magical falsetto renditions of Celestina Warbeck's "A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love."
Gasps and laughter erupted through the crowd.
"Is this happening?!" someone shouted.
A second-year Ravenclaw tried to film it with a self-writing quill and floating parchment.
A suit broke away from the line and began performing a dramatic tango with a nearby potted plant.
"Oh Merlin's beard," Iris wheezed, doubling over in laughter. "It's working!"
But then…
Professor McGonagall entered the hall, eyes narrowed and her mouth set in that fearsome no-nonsense line. She took a single step forward before one of the more enthusiastic suits of armor spun toward her.
"Madam!" it declared in a dramatic baritone, grabbing her by the elbow.
"Wha—?" McGonagall's eyes widened as the armor swept her into a surprisingly well-coordinated ballroom waltz. Her hat flew off as she was guided in a graceful arc across the floor.
Students roared with laughter. Someone began clapping in rhythm.
"I didn't mean that kind of chaos!" Hadrian whispered in horror, peeking between his fingers.
McGonagall managed to break away mid-twirl, landing with a grace only years of teaching could grant. Her cheeks were flushed with a rare mix of embarrassment and fury.
"WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS NONSENSE?" she barked, straightening her robes and snatching her hat from a passing first-year.
Before anyone could answer, she turned toward the most likely suspects. Her eyes locked on the Weasley twins, who had just arrived and were currently wiping tears of laughter from their eyes.
"Ten points from Gryffindor!" she snapped. "Fred and George Weasley, my office. Now."
"But we didn't—" George began, then caught Fred's eye and wisely shut his mouth.
The twins slunk off, still grinning.
Professor Flitwick finally appeared at the top of the staircase, wand drawn.
"Oh dear me!" he squeaked. With a few sharp flicks, the suits of armor froze, returned to their proper poses, and stopped serenading the crowd.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Then Flitwick cleared his throat.
"Well… that was… energetic," he said, twirling his wand with a smile twitching at the edge of his lips. "Whoever pulled that off… quite an impressive enchantment array. Sloppy at the end—but points for originality."
Somewhere behind him, a Hufflepuff burst into a fit of giggles.
Hadrian, Dora, and Iris slipped away, leaving the chaos behind, hearts pounding and faces sore from grinning.
"That," Dora whispered, "was beautiful."
"That," Iris echoed, "was chaos."
Hadrian glanced behind them, where Flitwick was still chuckling as he guided a now-docile suit of armor back into place.
"I want a moving picture of it," Hadrian said with a grin.