The Return to Hogwarts

Amosta's mind raced, and after a few moments, he faced Hibiscus and smiled.

"Miss Delacour, let's have a contest!"

Dregern and Karkaroff both beamed with joy, but before they could say anything, Amosta immediately spoke up.

"However, I have some objections to the method of the competition."

"how do you want to do it?"

Furong walked gracefully into the center of people's attention and asked with great interest.

"In my humble opinion, since the Triwizard Tournament is meant to foster friendship, and this party is being held in preparation for the tournament, it would be rather inappropriate for me, from Hogwarts, and you, from Beauxbatons, to engage in a direct duel."

Amosta gently swirled the crystal-clear wine glass, a playful smile playing on his lips.

“I have an idea—since Mr. Whip Dregern has suggested a contest, why not involve him in it as well?”

Vip's expression changed instantly. Before he could extricate himself from the vortex, he heard Amosta voice his opinion.

"Let's have the two of us take turns competing against Mr. Wheeper. The competition will see who can disarm Mr. Wheeper faster, shall we?"

“I think this is a very appropriate suggestion,” said Barty Crouch, stepping forward with a cold smile and clapping his hands.

"This is inappropriate--"

Whip Dregern's expression was not very pleasant at the moment.

He certainly didn't think he would be disarmed by a young girl who hadn't even graduated yet, but Amosta's proposal was practically throwing the same problem back at him. Now, he was the one who desperately needed to save face while also considering the feelings of Beauxbatons and the French Ministry of Magic officials.

"I think it's absolutely appropriate!"

Barty revealed his assertive side, raising his voice to interrupt Dregern's excuses, then looking gently at Fleur.

"I think Miss Delacour wouldn't refuse a more dignified and more informative form of competition, would she?"

To be honest, Fleur was clearly more eager to compete with Amosta, but she couldn't refuse Mr. Blaine's suggestion. Just as she was hesitating, Fleur suddenly noticed Mrs. Maxim giving her a barely perceptible nod.

“I think Mr. Blaine’s idea is good—”

Furong nodded, but her expression showed slight regret.

Wow!

Ludo wasn't the only one in the crowd who was interested in such things. In an instant, the dining table that had been blocking the banquet hall was magically moved to the wall, and a spacious open space was immediately cleared.

However, the preparations still took some time. After all, Furong couldn't possibly be 'wielding swords and spears' with people while wearing high heels and a low-cut dress that hugged her body curves!

"Well done--"

People were focused on the standoff between Fleur Delacour, who was eager to make her move, and Whip Dregern, whose face was grim.

Taking the opportunity, Barty approached the smiling Amosta and whispered something.

To be honest, Barty's praise surprised Amosta a little, as he knew that the director of the International Department of Magical Cooperation didn't particularly like him.

"The real show is yet to come—"

Amosta took a sip of sherry, raised an eyebrow, and smiled.

"So--"

Fleur, now back in her Beauxbatons uniform, wand in hand, struck a stylish duel stance that drew cheers from many.

“Please forgive my intrusion, Mr. Dregern.”

"Oh, I hope my old bones can last a little longer!"

Even though he was seething with hatred, Dreygen still tried his best to maintain his composure.

Under the starlight-like candlelight, a bright red light emanating from the tip of the Hibiscus Magic Wand heralded the start of the competition.

It's clear that Beauxbatons must have taken a course similar to a dueling class. Fleur wasn't just waving her wand randomly; her footwork, her maneuvering, and her attacks were quite methodical. However, this excellence still didn't surpass the level expected of a young, underage wizard.

Whip, on the other hand, was a powerful wizard with exceptional magical abilities who had participated in the pursuit of the remaining wizards after Grindelwald's downfall and came from the war years!

No one, not even Mrs. Maxim, expected Fleur to succeed in taking Wip Dregern's wand.

Indeed, looking at a normal duel, the biggest trouble Dreghan might foresee was to try his best to appear to be struggling and to avoid defeating Beauxbatton's little girl too easily, thus embarrassing Mrs. Maxim.

But three minutes later, a gray spell beam still struck Fleur's wrist precisely, causing her to lose her balance and drop her wand.

"Ah—" Furong stamped her foot in frustration, looking utterly dejected, "I failed—"

Many people couldn't help but smile, but no one wanted to tell her the truth.

“You almost succeeded, Miss Delacour--”

Dreggen steadied himself, wiping the sweat from his brow as if panting, his smile perfectly displaying the demeanor of a seasoned expert.

"Honestly, I've never seen such a talented young wizard as you. I bet, Miss Delacour, you're a strong contender for the Triwizard Tournament title. Your future is limitless. Of course, all of this is inseparable from Beauxbatons' excellent teaching methods—"

Even Mrs. Maxim's expression softened after hearing these words and Dregern's earlier leniency, and she became less concerned that Whip Dregern had dragged Fleur into her own little scheme.

"Well then, it's your turn, Mr. Blaine—"

Losing to a renowned wizard wasn't so embarrassing for Fleur, especially considering the high praise he'd given her. Fleur smiled, like a little girl receiving a Christmas present, and walked briskly to Amosta, looking at him with a slightly proud and defiant gaze.

"I hope the following demonstration will be inspiring for you, Miss Delacour--"

Amosta said with a chuckle, handed his glass to Barty Crouch, and then, amidst the eager anticipation of the crowd, gracefully took the stage.

The previously relaxed atmosphere quickly became filled with anxiety.

Everyone wanted to see just how capable Amosta Blaine really was. Although the Daily Prophet had already reported on it in detail, everyone was aware of the political undertones of the Daily Prophet itself.

Even if what those reporters heard from the villagers of Hogsmeade is true, how much discernment do a bunch of fools have? Perhaps what they said is just the boasting of busybodies!

“You’re right, Mr. Blaine—”

A fleeting glint of malice flashed in Dregern's eyes as he glanced at Amosta, who was dressed in a sharp black tuxedo that accentuated his figure.

"Hopefully, this match will inspire those who witnessed it."

Amostah chuckled but didn't say anything. Under everyone's watchful eyes, he patted himself down a few times, but as he did so, his expression became serious.

"What's wrong, Amosta?"

Barty Crouch frowned and pressed for more information.

"Oh--"

Amosta flicked his sleeves again, and after a moment, he spread his hands, looking completely innocent.

"I think I forgot to bring my wand—"

Chapter 401 Welcome

2023-08-02

Forgot your wand?

Amosta's words were like a gust of cold wind, instantly freezing the guests who had been eagerly anticipating a fierce and evenly matched battle. Old Barty was no exception; his face stiffened, and then a hint of gritted teeth flashed in his eyes as he looked at Amosta.

Forgot my wand? How could that be? What a lame excuse!

In just a few seconds, Batty's slight admiration for Amosta vanished. He glared angrily at Amosta, and if it weren't for the large crowd of onlookers, he probably would have rushed up and punched the young man hard!

A wand is a wizard's life, a companion even closer than a partner. A qualified wizard should never forget to bring their wand, even when going into the bathroom to take a shower!

Compared to Batty's terrible mood, Dreygen was practically laughing his head off.

Now it seems that Amosta was indeed just a puppet put on by Dumbledore to take over, a guy who had no real skills except for being good with words.

"Oh, I forgot my wand—what a regrettable oversight—"

Karkaroff grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth.

Previously, he had been pondering the sudden flutter in his heart when Amosta glanced at him, but now it seemed it was merely an illusion. He never expected Dumbledore to produce such an incompetent fool.

"Is there anyone kind enough to lend Mr. Blaine his wand for a moment?"

Karkarov blew his nose, making a gesture.

"It seems the highly anticipated competition can only go like this—" Dregern said 'regretfully,' "" "Hopefully next time, there will be an opportunity—"

"Fine, let's just have this competition."

In a short time, Amosta's image had plummeted in everyone's eyes. He looked helpless, shrugged his shoulders, and then suddenly said something that made the atmosphere, which had just eased a little, freeze again!

Are we just going to compare them like this? What does that mean?!

Dregern seemed to have guessed what Amosta was up to, but he couldn't believe he was being so humiliated by a kid who had only graduated two years ago!

The friendly image he had maintained all night could no longer be maintained, and Dregern's face revealed a hint of ferocity. His rage caused his magic to falter uncontrollably; his thick beard bristled as if struck by static electricity, finally revealing his pale lips embedded in his weathered face.

"What do you mean, Blaine? You forgot your wand, didn't you!"

Whip Dregern demanded an answer in a stern voice.

“It means exactly what it says, Mr. Dregern—” Amostall seemed unaware of the profound humiliation his words had inflicted on a renowned wizard; he smiled gently.

"You take the wand, I'll go empty-handed."

boom!

In an instant, the discussions that erupted in the banquet hall were like the rumble of thunder before a summer storm.