Hogwarts' Golden Glory

Kane nodded.

Hermione felt her stomach churning when she saw this.

She didn't know what the relationship was between Kane and Fleur.

friend?

Obviously, there are more.

good friend?

They seem closer than best friends.

……

She and Kane spent so many afternoons together in the library, discussing academics, exchanging notes, and occasionally silently reading their own books.

She thought it was a unique understanding between them.

But now she discovers that someone entered Kane's world before her.

Moreover, that person was as beautiful as an elf who stepped out of an oil painting.

This time, Kane looked back at him.

It was very short, less than a second.

Then the two of them simultaneously looked away, as if nothing had happened.

Hermione looked down, and the knife and fork made a soft sound as they touched the plate.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked.

"It's nothing," she said. "Fork's a little hungry."

Ron was still staring at Fleur like a fool.

His ears had turned the same color as his hair—red.

"She's so beautiful..." he murmured.

"Ron," Hermione's voice carried a warning.

"No, I mean—" Ron realized he had said the wrong thing, but it was too late.

Hermione jabbed the plate hard.

Ron wisely kept quiet.

After Fleur sat next to Kane for about two minutes, Beauxbatons' teacher—a witch who looked to be in her fifties—finally mustered up the courage to come over and politely remind Fleur that she should sit in Beauxbatons' area.

Fleur stood up and smiled at Kane, a smile as warm and bright as the spring sunshine.

"I'll come find you after the dinner."

She said there was no room for negotiation in her tone.

Kane nodded.

As Fleur turned to leave, her pale blue eyes swept in Hermione's direction.

Hermione and she made eye contact for a moment.

In that instant, Hermes felt a strange pressure—not hostility, but more like a confirmation.

Furong's gaze lingered on her face for less than half a second before shifting away.

But Hermione felt that Fleur had seen right through her.

After both delegations were seated, Dumbledore announced the start of the dinner.

Food appeared out of thin air on the plate—roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, mashed potatoes, gravy, carrots, peas, various pies and puddings.

Hermione picked up her knife and fork, but her gaze kept drifting toward the Slytherin table.

Kane was eating quietly.

He ate very properly, using his knife and fork with precision, and making almost no noise while chewing.

Igor perched on his shoulder, occasionally glancing down to peck at the bread crumbs he offered.

Draco stood nearby, excitedly talking about something, seemingly commenting on the students from the two delegations—Krum's Quidditch talent, Mrs. Maxim's height, and the material of the robes worn by the Beauxbatons students.

Kane nodded occasionally, shook his head slightly sometimes, but most of the time he just listened.

Hermione noticed that Krum was sitting at the Slytherin table, only three seats away from Kane.

He didn't participate in the surrounding noise, but simply ate quietly, occasionally exchanging a few words of Bulgarian with the classmate next to him.

On one occasion, Krum looked up in Kane's direction. Kane seemed to sense it and looked up as well.

The two looked at each other again. This time, Krum's lips twitched slightly—not a smile, but more like a confirmation.

Then came the hibiscus.

Fleur sat in Beauxbatons’ area, about the entire Slytherin table away from Kane, but her gaze kept drifting in that direction.

Once, she raised a glass to drink pumpkin juice, the glass obscuring half her face, but Hermione could see her eyes were smiling—she was looking at Kane.

Hermione's fingers tightened around the fork again.

"Hermione?" Harry's voice brought her back to reality. "Your steak is getting cold."

"Oh." Hermione looked down and noticed that the steak on her plate had been cut into irregularly sized pieces, but she had barely eaten any. She put down her knife and fork, picked up the pumpkin juice, and took a sip.

"Are you feeling unwell?" Harry asked.

"No," Hermione said. "I was just thinking about something."

Ron muttered to himself, "What's the relationship between Fleur and Malfoy? They seem really close."

"I don't know," Hermione said, her voice a little stiff. "It's none of my business."

Ron and Harry exchanged a glance. The look meant, "What she said is completely different from what she thought."

"Okay..." Ron tactfully changed the subject, "Who do you think should be chosen as a warrior? I think Krum definitely can—"

Hermione didn't reply. Her gaze drifted back to the Slytherin table.

Fleur was standing next to Kane again—perhaps she was just passing by. She leaned down and said something, and Kane listened intently, then nodded slightly. Fleur smiled, patted his shoulder, and returned to her seat.

That smile reminded Hermione of a summer night when she stared blankly at the "abnormal magical fluctuation" marker on the map. She worried about him, stayed up all night researching, and looked up countless materials, thinking it was some kind of unique bond.

But now she discovers that there is someone with a completely different bond with Kane—not worrying about him getting hurt, but knowing that he will definitely get hurt, and then laughing and patting him on the shoulder saying, "You didn't sleep well again."

That feeling... was very different.

Hermione couldn't explain it.

All she knew was that the steak on the plate was hard to cut.

The dinner proceeded amidst a commotion.

The students ate and chatted, their eyes darting back and forth between the two delegations.

Durmstrang students appeared quite restrained, while Beauxbatons students were more open, with several already chatting with the Ravenclaw girls next to them.

When Dumbledore stood up again, the plate was empty, with only crumbs of dessert remaining.

"Before you all return to the common room, I have one more announcement to make," he said, a kind yet mischievous glint in his blue eyes. "The Triwizard Tournament's selection of warriors will be held on the eve of Halloween. At that time, an ancient magical artifact—the Goblet of Fire—will be placed in the foyer. Any student who wishes to participate must drop their name into the goblet within twenty-four hours."

His gaze swept across the entire room, and his tone became serious.

"To reiterate—students under the age of sixteen are strictly prohibited from enrolling. We will set age limits, and anyone attempting to circumvent them will face serious consequences."

Fred and George exchanged a knowing look.

"Furthermore," Dumbledore added, "all students, please note that the Triwizard Tournament is a symbol of friendship. I hope that the students of Hogwarts will warmly welcome our guests, whether they are from Durmstrang or Beauxbatons. Exchange between different cultures is an important way for magic to progress."

He raised his wine glass.

"Now, let's raise a glass together—to the new school year, to the Triwizard Tournament, and to friendship!"

"For the new school year! For the Triple Crown Tournament! For friendship!"

Cheers echoed beneath the ancient dome.