Hogwarts' Golden Glory

Draco's eyes were strikingly bright.

Kane didn't react.

He grabbed Kane's sleeve anxiously.

His voice was low but couldn't hide his excitement: "Kane! If you won't go, let me try! That's the Fairy King's treasure!"

Kane's grey-blue eyes swept over coldly.

Without a word, he simply raised his hand—"Slap!"

A clean and swift chop to the wrist of Draco, who was gripping his sleeve.

The force wasn't heavy, but it hit the most sensitive spot on the nerve precisely.

"Ouch!" Draco abruptly pulled his hand back.

Like a cat whose tail has been stepped on, "What are you doing—"

Before he could finish speaking, he met Kane's eyes.

A dangerous signal was flashing in those gray-blue eyes that were similar to his but even sharper.

Draco immediately fell silent, instinctively taking a half-step back, rubbing his wrist and daring not to utter another sound.

This scene was witnessed by Pansy Parkinson, who was not far away.

After all, a gathering of this scale naturally included their family.

He nudged Blaise Sabini beside him with his elbow: "Look, Little Dragon got beaten up by his brother."

Blaise is an arrogant and conceited man.

Among his peers, he was deferential to everyone except Kane.

Blaise took a sip of champagne: "Is this kind of thing uncommon at school?"

Pansy nodded.

At this moment, fine beads of sweat had appeared on Fudge's forehead.

His fat fingers nervously rubbed the back of his other hand.

His gaze shifted back and forth between Kane and Draco.

Clearly, they hadn't expected their plans to fall through like this.

Just as the atmosphere was becoming increasingly awkward, an exaggerated voice suddenly broke the silence.

"Since young people are all so humble—"

Gilderoy Lockhart strode forward.

The robe shimmered under the light.

"Then let me, the one who's about to win the Wizarding Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award five times, do it for you!"

The peacock brooch pinned to his chest opened and closed with his movements.

It looks just like a real peacock in its mating season.

Fudge's expression instantly became a fascinating mix—first a look of relief, then a deep worry.

He certainly wouldn't dare let Lockhart touch that "gem".

Who knows what kind of trouble this guy will cause?

"Uh, Gilderoy, this ritual requires specific..."

"Don't worry, dear minister!"

Fudge hadn't reacted yet.

Lockhart had already drawn his jeweled wand.

"I described in detail how to activate ancient magical items in my book 'Conversations with Treasures'! Especially in Chapter 37, 'When the Gem Refuses to Respond'..."

Fudge's face grew increasingly grim.

He looked to Umbridge beside him for help.

The latter was nodding at Lohart with her signature, uncomfortably saccharine smile.

"Actually," Fudge interrupted, wiping his sweat, "this ritual requires..."

"A sincere prayer is needed!"

Lockhart was completely absorbed in his performance and didn't notice Fudge's hints at all.

He turned to the crowd, flashing his gleaming white teeth, "Just like when I awakened ancient ice crystals atop the snow-capped mountains of Tibet..."

Lucius watched the farce unfold with cold indifference.

A mocking smile curled at the corner of his lips: "It seems our minister has shot himself in the foot."

Narcissa gracefully concealed the lower half of her face with her fan: "Has Lockhart discovered something?"

Kane's gaze remained fixed on the gemstone base.

The trace of the Ministry of Magic was faintly visible under the light.

It was clearly in preparation for some kind of operation.

If he or Draco had actually gone up and touched it just now.

They have probably already fallen into the other side's trap.

Lockhart has already begun his "performance".

He waved his wand dramatically, chanting a series of self-composed spells: "Light of Memory! Words of Treasure! Key to the Heart!"

With each word uttered, the wand spewed out a string of golden sparks.

This drew gasps of admiration from several young witches nearby.

But the gemstone remained unmoved, still maintaining its false starlight.

"Aha!" Lockhart felt no embarrassment at all; on the contrary, he became even more excited.

"It seems I need a more powerful spell! The one I learned in the ancient Peruvian tombs..."

Fudge finally snapped, grabbing Lockhart's wrist: "Giddon! I remember now, this ritual requires... uh... requires the Minister of Magic's authority! Yes, that's it!"

His acting was so bad it was embarrassing.

Sweat beads on his forehead had formed streams that trickled down his face.

Seeing this, Umbridge quickly stepped forward to chime in, "That's right! This is... uh... stipulated in the newly revised 'Regulations for the Display of Magical Items'!"

Lockhart's expression instantly fell, like a child whose toy had been confiscated: "But Minister, my 'Conversations with Treasures'..."

"Next time for sure!" Fudge said almost eagerly.

At the same time, he gestured to his assistant to quickly push the display stand away, saying, "I'll have you do the demonstration next time!"

A disappointed booing sound came from the crowd.

Several Durmstrang students began whispering among themselves: "What's going on?"

"Didn't they say it could reveal ancient memories?"

"Could it be fake..."

Fudge's face turned from red to white and then to green, looking just like a piece of spoiled cheese.

He forced a smile: "Ladies and gentlemen! Due to... uh... some unforeseen circumstances, today's presentation will end here! Please enjoy your meal!"

Dumbledore clapped gracefully, the applause sounding particularly jarring in the silent hall.

"A brilliant performance, Mr. Minister. I particularly enjoyed the part about... 'force majeure.' Do you need my help?"

After Dumbledore uttered those words, everyone around him turned their hopeful gazes toward Fudge.

After all, it's a good thing to see Dumbledore take action.

"No need, Albus. We can handle this."

Fudge's fake smile was almost splitting open to his ears.

He glared fiercely at his assistants who were leaving, clearly extremely dissatisfied with the failure of the plan.

Kane turned his gaze away and looked at Draco, who was still looking bewildered beside him.

His brother still had that excited expression on his face.

He was just a little confused—the blond boy blinked.

My gaze shifted back and forth between my brother and the departing display stand.

"So...we're not going to try that gem?" Draco muttered softly, his voice full of regret. "It belongs to the Fairy King..."

Kane raised his eyebrows almost imperceptibly.

Sometimes he really wondered if he and Draco were born of the same mother—his brother's political acumen was simply appalling.

"Use your brain, Draco," Kane said, pressing a hand on the man's shoulder. "When did Fudge become so enthusiastic about 'training young wizards'?"

Draco wrinkled his nose, an expression that made him look more like a confused puppy: "Because he's trying to curry favor with the Malfoys? After all, Dad's in Wizengamor..."

Lucius let out a barely audible sigh from the side.

His long, silver-gray hair gleamed coldly under the lamplight, and his snake-headed cane lightly tapped the tip of his youngest son's shoe: "Draco, there are no permanent friends, only permanent interests—"