A Certain Magical Hogwarts

If you read Chapter 597 again, I'll poke your eyes out!

Dumbledore's surprises often contain a good amount of shock.

In other words, his surprise is more like a shock than your shock.

Therefore, no one liked his carefully prepared little surprises.

Professor McGonagall, as the vice-principal, was the one who disliked it the most.

When she enrolled:

The headmaster is still Armando Dippet; the school song is still in tune; the Defense Against the Dark Arts position is still in demand; Halloween is still safe; Quidditch is still going smoothly; and Gryffindor students are still of high quality.

She went to the Ministry of Magic for two years after graduation, when Dumbledore became the headmaster, and then she was invited back to teach.

That unusual opening party almost scared young Miss McGonagall into quitting her job.

For decades afterward, Hogwarts was no longer the Hogwarts it once was.

In recent years... to be precise, since Harry enrolled, high-frequency crises have been occurring more and more frequently.

As for William, and Tywin Lannister, the Death Eater from that year... Professor McGonagall selectively ignored them.

Who wouldn't like such an outstanding student?

Has he been involved in any of the incidents that have occurred at the school over the years? Definitely not!

Fortunately, Professor Dumbledore was self-aware enough tonight not to pull off his little surprise, but instead chatted and laughed with Karkaroff and Maxim.

Professor McGonagall finally breathed a sigh of relief. Although she was the vice principal, she did the work of the principal.

They also have to manage a large group of unreliable professors and troublesome students.

"The team is hard to manage," McGonagall sighed.

Hopefully, Professor Dumbledore won't surprise her in this Triwizard Tournament.

She just can't handle surprises!

Professor McGonagall sighed, and Snape's eyes were also gloomy as he kept glancing at Karkaroff.

Dumbledore had just asked him to take Karkaroff to change clothes in order to get some information out of this former 'colleague'.

Unfortunately, the other party used Krum as a shield and dragged him along to change clothes.

The two stayed together the whole time, and Snape couldn't find a chance for a private conversation.

Karkaroff glanced furtively at Mad-Eye.

This old man... isn't crazy yet?

He was the one who arrested him back then.

Karkaroff glanced at Crouch again.

That bastard... isn't dead yet?

Back then, it was Crouch who personally interrogated him and almost got him sent to Azkaban.

He glanced at Snape again.

That damned traitor...

The professors, each with their own thoughts, didn't enjoy the meal, but the students were very happy.

Tonight's dinner is exceptionally lavish, even more so than Christmas dinner.

Everyone's plates were piled high with food. The house-elves had used every trick in the book, even bringing out seven or eight different foreign cuisines.

Ravenclaw students are conducting academic research over a large plate of snails.

This dish of salted cod, snails, Bellez Swiss tart, and garlic butter sauce... doesn't look like food; it looks more like Hagrid's fried snails.

A group of British people are criticizing French cuisine and even finding it unpalatable... wait, something seems off.

"It tastes alright." William wiped his mouth and smiled at Hibiscus, "But it's not as authentic as the one you made last time."

"No, it's not. Mine doesn't taste as good as this one," Furong said, covering her mouth with a laugh. "But if you like it, I can make it again."

The last time I ate snails was last year on Biarritz beach in France.

A group of them went beachcombing and caught a lot of snails, which Furong then cooked into a French-style feast.

Fleur's cooking skills are far superior to Hermione's; they're not even in the same league.

Therefore, Hermione, unwilling to admit defeat, went back and trained hard for another summer.

But she can't even cook British food well, let alone French food.

Anne hurriedly told Hermione that it was a problem with the cuisine; British food was generally unpalatable and had nothing to do with her cooking skills.

Hermione then stopped tormenting William and Anne's taste buds.

Halfway through the meal, Furong felt a bit hot and took off the heavy scarf from her head.

Only then could everyone see her face clearly.

She had long, cascading, silver hair that reached her waist. She also had large, bright blue eyes and a face that was as beautiful as a painting.

The hibiscus immediately caused a stir.

The male students at the Ravenclaw table all stopped what they were doing and stared at her in a daze.

Hibiscus was used to this kind of thing and continued talking to William about French cuisine as if no one else was around.

William spoke in French, while Fleur spoke in English… The two of them seemed rather strange.

Furong quickly finished eating, stood up, and blinked, saying:

"I'll go check on Hermione; I didn't see her earlier."

At the Gryffindor dining table,

Ron was gazing longingly into the distance.

Durmstrang's student was sitting at Slytherin's dining table, which made him feel extremely envious and jealous.

"Harry, we should have made room earlier so Krum could have sat next to us," he complained.

Seeing Malfoy leaning over to speak to Krum, Ron said sharply again:

"Malfoy is definitely trying to curry favor with him. I bet Krum saw right through him."

I dare say that wherever Krum goes, people fawn over him and flatter him... Tell me, where do they sleep?

Ron stared longingly at Krum and said:

"We can offer him a bed in our dorm, Harry... I'd be happy to give him my bed; I'll sleep on my cot..."

Harry glanced at Ron speechlessly. Was it really necessary?

As Hermione said: Just a Quidditch player.

Harry certainly wouldn't want to give up his bed to Krum... but he would be willing to give it to Cho.

He can stay up all night watching... hehehe.

Ron, who was still rambling on, suddenly stopped talking, his mouth agape and his eyes wide open.

A witch walked toward him.

That was the most beautiful girl Ron had ever seen, with a slender figure, long silver hair, and a smile on her lips.

That smile, sweet and elegant, was like a spring breeze blowing through Diagon Alley, or autumn rain soaking Gringotts.

At that moment, Ron felt like he was in love.

This must be fate's arrangement.

"Hi!" the girl said softly with a smile, "Long time no see."

Ron, as if speaking to an old friend, said in a voice only he could hear, "Yes, it's been a long time."

Yes, he felt that the two of them had met in a past life.

"My name is Ronald..."

But the girl didn't greet him, nor did she see him; she walked straight toward Hermione.

"Fleur, it's been a long time." Hermione stood up and took Fleur's hand.

The two, like best friends, hopped and skipped together, whispering and laughing like silver bells.

"Let's go over there, I have a lot to tell you."

Fleur pulled Hermione along and headed towards the Ravenclaw dining table.

Just as the two were about to leave, Ron suddenly stood up, as if by some strange twist of fate.

"Ron, what's wrong?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

Ron's face flushed bright red. He stared blankly at Fleur, opening his mouth to answer, but only managed some strange little sounds, as if his throat was choked.

That expression... was as if she had never seen the girl before.

Hermione coughed in displeasure at Ron's rudeness.

He finally stammered, "Is this your friend? Hermione..."

"Of course," Hermione said impatiently. "I've mentioned it before... Fleur."

"Phlegm..." Ron remembered the name.

Hibiscus showed a look of disgust and said coldly in a perfect London accent, "My name is Hibiscus, not Sticky Phlegm!"

She took Hermione's hand and walked right past Ron.

"How did I do, bro!" Ron said to Harry in a hoarse voice as he sat down.

"That's lame..." Harry muttered.

Ron stared at everyone like an idiot; to describe him as utterly pathetic would be an understatement.

It was so embarrassing that he wanted to stand up and tell everyone that he didn't know Ron.

Ron ignored Harry and continued to watch Fleur's retreating figure.

Seeing the girl sit down next to William, seemingly very close to him, Ron turned pale, as if he had lost his soul.

Just then, a heavy coughing sound came from behind.

Ron turned his head away.

Upon noticing a silver-haired girl standing next to Annie, she pointed two fingers at Ron's eyes and coldly said, "Look again, and I'll poke your eyes out!"

Gabrielle wasn't the only one who wanted to gouge out other people's eyes; Professor Flitwick did too.

Hagrid, who was late, had just sat down in his chair when he noticed Maxim.

His eyes widened, and his breathing quickened. He hadn't been this excited when Norbert was born.

Hagrid raised his large glass, ready to take a sip to calm his nerves.

But instead of drinking the oat wine, it was all poured onto Professor Flitwick's head.

He grinned foolishly, then picked up his fork again, ready to cut some beef.

The fork pierced Professor Flitwick's hand.

Even the usually mild-mannered Professor Flitwick couldn't help but angrily retort:

"Hagrid, you idiot!"

……

(Please vote for this post, everyone.)

Sorry for the late update. I was giving an experiment to a group of undergraduates today.