Hogwarts' Golden Glory

Krum's gaze shifted to Kane; he had heard of the boy before.

Moreover, the other party had a phoenix by their side, making it hard not to attract attention.

Kane's expression remained unchanged. His grey eyes were as calm as a winter lake, and he didn't even blink at Krum's gaze.

Then Krum looked away and followed the group to their reserved seats—right next to the Slytherin table.

"Who is that guy?" Ron pressed, "He looks like he can fight."

"I don't know," Harry said, but his hand unconsciously touched the scar on his forehead.

Krum's gaze had just swept over Gryffindor when the scar stung slightly.

It's just a coincidence, maybe.

Hermione didn't reply. Her gaze shifted from Krum to Kane.

Kane and Igor are communicating silently.

The phoenix nuzzled his cheek with its head, and he raised his hand to gently stroke Ig's feathers.

But she always felt that Kane seemed to be on guard against something.

The lively atmosphere of the dinner continued as Durmstrang and Beauxbatons' students took their seats.

"Next," Dumbledore's voice rang out, "let us welcome the representatives from Beauxbatons School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—"

The auditorium doors opened again.

This time, it wasn't the cold wind that came in, but the fragrance of flowers.

A delicate, refreshing scent, like that of a garden in May after a rain, permeated the air, making even the candle flames seem gentler.

The students of Beauxbatons wore pale blue silk robes with delicate silver embroidery on the collars and cuffs, which shimmered like pearls in the candlelight.

Their steps were as light as if they were walking on clouds, their long hair flowing behind them—Hermione suspected they had used some kind of faint buoyancy charm to enhance the visual effect, but she had to admit that the effect was indeed beautiful.

Leading the way was their principal, Olem Maxim.

Hermione had to crane her neck so hard she almost broke to see her face.

Mrs. Maxim was the tallest woman she had ever seen, half a head taller than Hagrid, but she was well-proportioned and had an elegant demeanor.

She had long, silver-gold hair styled in an elegant updo, her deep blue eyes like two jewels, and her skin as white as moonlight.

She wore a pale purple silk dress with a matching cloak, and every step she took carried an air of nobility, as if she were not walking but surveying her own territory.

"She's so tall..." Ron murmured.

"Shut up," Hermione whispered.

The students from Beauxbatons filed in, their movements perfectly synchronized, like a choreographed dance.

Hermione's gaze swept over the pale blue figures, searching for the face she had seen in The Wizarding Weekly.

Then she saw it.

Fleur Delacour walked in the middle to the back of the group, but even though she wasn't at the very front, no one could ignore her.

Her long, silvery-white hair reached her waist, flowing with a soft sheen like a waterfall in the candlelight.

Her features were so exquisite they seemed unreal—high brow bones, a straight nose, naturally pale pink lips, and skin so white it was almost transparent, with faint blue veins visible at her temples.

She possessed an otherworldly beauty, tinged with danger, like an ice blade under the moonlight, so beautiful that one dared not look directly at her.

The boys from Beauxbatons followed behind her, their eyes occasionally falling on her with admiration and caution—like approaching a beautiful flame, afraid of being burned yet unwilling to leave.

Hibiscus's pale blue eyes swept across the long table at Hogwarts with a natural, effortless elegance.

Hermione noticed that she seemed to be looking for someone!

But perhaps he was stunned by Ron's blank expression?

Hermione rolled her eyes inwardly.

Then, Furong's gaze continued to move.

She saw the Slytherin table.

She suddenly paused.

Hermione was stunned.

Fleur Delacour—the girl named one of the "Ten Most Beautiful Witches in Europe" by Wizardsweek, the girl who walked like a swan—paused for a moment.

Her pale blue eyes lit up.

It was a genuine, heartfelt joy, like suddenly encountering a long-lost friend in a strange city.

"Kane!" Fleur called out in French-accented English, her voice not loud, but clear enough in the quiet auditorium.

Hermione saw Kane raise his head.

His expression didn't change much, but the corners of his mouth turned up slightly—not a polite smile, but a genuine, relaxed smile, the kind you have when you see a friend.

Hermione had almost never seen that smile before; she didn't even know Kane could smile like that.

Fleur walked briskly past Beauxbatons' procession, her silk robes billowing behind her.

She walked to the Slytherin table and, under everyone's gaze, bent down and gave Kane a hug.

It wasn't the kind of social, fleeting hug.

It was a real hug, full of warmth and affection.

She placed one hand on Kane's shoulder and gently patted his back with the other, as if to make sure he was really there.

"You've come," Kane said softly, but Hermione still heard him in the quiet Slytherin area.

"Of course I came." Hibiscus released him, straightened up, her pale blue eyes sparkling. "You said you'd be here. How could I not come?"

Hermione's fingers unconsciously tightened around the fork.

The tip of the fork pressed against the plate, making a slight metallic sound.

Ron's mouth was wide enough to fit a Yorkshire pudding.

His gaze darted back and forth between Fleur and Kane, his expression shifting from "Wow, so beautiful" to "What? They know each other?" and then to "She actually hugged him?"

"They...know each other?" Ron's voice was a little unsteady.

"Obviously." Hermione's voice was colder than she had expected.

Fleur sat down next to Kane—in the area next to Durmstrang’s reserved seat. Beauxbatons’ seat was actually on the other side, but no one dared to remind her.

"Isn't Gabrielle here?"

Draco poked his head out to ask.

He didn't know how the little girl who used to love listening to stories was doing these days.

"She was in the carriage, and she kept asking to hear your story the whole way."

Furong answered with a smile, captivating the boys around her.

Draco blushed instantly when he heard the other person mentioning him.

"What a childish brat."

Kane did not continue.

"You've lost weight," she said, looking at Kane with a hint of reproach in her voice. "And you have a shadow under your eyes. You didn't get enough sleep during the summer vacation, did you?"

"I'm fine," Kane said.

I can tell you're very tired.

Furong shook her head.

"You weren't this tired when we were together before. I've learned a new spell to relieve fatigue; I'll take you to try it later."