The flickering candlelight casted twirling shadows across Professor Watson's normally warm office. Harry and Hermione stood awkwardly before his massive oak desk and their hearts were pounding in their chests.
The atmosphere was thick with tension, making even the gentle crackling of the fireplace seem somehow ominous. Harry could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead despite the evening chill that permeated the castle. Beside him, Hermione fidgeted nervously with the hem of her school robes.
Harry and Hermione were probably the only students who interacted most privately with Professor Watson. They were both well aware that, in private, he was not the type of wizard who liked to flaunt his authority. Every time they came to his office, he would kindly ask them to sit down before formally discussing matters.
However, this time, Professor Watson merely had them stand there, looking at them with an unfriendly stern gaze. This subtle change made Harry and Hermione feel a sense of unease.
It seemed that the trouble they caused today really annoyed Professor Watson.
And this was hardly surprising– sneaking out of school grounds was one thing, but causing harm to a visiting champion from Beauxbatons was an entirely different matter. The political implications alone were enough to cause serious concern, and both of them were well aware of it.
The Triwizard Tournament was meant to foster international magical cooperation, not create diplomatic incidents again and again.
Harry's mind raced with possibilities, each more worrying than the last. 'Had Madame Maxime, Beauxbatons' headmistress, already stormed the castle demanding explanation?'
Thinking about this, Harry mustered his courage and stole a glance at Professor Watson behind the desk, seeing a face that revealed no emotion in the flickering candlelight, which only made him even more nervous.
"Sorry, Professor--"
Hermione was the first to break the suffocating silence and her voice was trembling like a leaf in autumn wind. "We... we ran into some trouble--"
Bryan's stern expression softened almost imperceptibly. He knew that after returning to Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione had probably gone to find Ron, and he could foresee that they might have had some conflict.
Bryan shook his head noncommittally. "So, Hermione, are you prepared for the Triwizard Tournament tasks?"
Hermione's body trembled violently, and her heart raced in her chest. Hagrid had previously told her and Harry that Professor Watson was keeping the competition tasks tightly under wraps, though Hagrid still planned to help her obtain some insider information.
"I-I'm reviewing previous competition records--" She managed to stammer out, her fingers unconsciously twisting the fabric of her robes. "I thought it might be helpful."
"Hmm--" Bryan's thoughtful hum resonated in the quiet office. His gaze was fixed on Hermione, who stood as rigid as the suit of armor in the corridor outside.
Normally, providing Hermione with a bit of extra help would be understandable. After all, she was the youngest among the champions and hadn't intended to become one. However, upon further reflection, Bryan dismissed the idea. Regarding the champions' competition process, neither he nor Dumbledore should interfere too much, and besides, she might already have some assistance.
Bryan's voice took on a formal tone as he delivered his verdict. "For sneaking out of the school, Gryffindor will lose twenty points."
The magical hourglass containing Gryffindor's rubies would soon reflect this loss, though the punishment seemed remarkably lenient.
"Of course, detention would have been inevitable, but considering the pressure you're under from the Tournament tasks, I'll refrain from imposing any additional punishment--"
"What!" The simultaneous exclamation from both students echoed off the office walls, startling several of the dozing portraits. Harry's emerald eyes widened with disbelief, while Hermione's mouth fell open in shock.
"Is that all, Professor?" Harry's voice cracked slightly with surprise.
"Of course not. Have you forgotten about Miss Delacour, whom you injured?" Bryan's reminder brought an immediate change to Harry's expression, his face falling faster than a dropped Remembrall.
Bryan's subsequent chuckle, however, seemed to ease some of the tension in the room.
The night had grown late; through the office windows, the darkness pressed against the glass like a living thing, broken only by the occasional glimmer of stars.
Bryan, aware of the late hour, decided to cut to the chase. "Harry, I know you didn't intentionally injure Miss Delacour. Normally, I wouldn't punish you for this, but you should understand that she is a Beauxbatons champion with a sensitive status. If we casually treat this as a minor incident, it would be inappropriate. Therefore, Hogwarts should express an apology to her--"
Even without Professor Watson saying so, Harry and Hermione understood the matter. They could easily imagine the diplomatic headache this situation might cause. Putting themselves in her shoes, Fleur was indeed unfortunate. She had been at Hogwarts for only a week and had already been injured twice, though both were accidents. It was understandable for Beauxbatons to have concerns about their champion's safety.
"What do you need us to do, Professor?" Harry's asked, his voice steady despite his nervousness.
Bryan's hand moved to a beautifully wrapped package on his desk – an elegant box tied with silver ribbon that seemed to shimmer in the candlelight.
"I've prepared a gift for Miss Delacour— a dress--" His fingers drummed lightly on the box as he gave Harry a meaningful look. "I hope you'll personally deliver it to her, as a token of apology. Of course, it will be in your name, Harry--"
Harry and Hermione's attention were immediately drawn to the gift box. Harry thought that the box was given to Professor Watson by someone else. After all, with Professor Watson's current fame, it was not strange to receive gifts from fans. However, He never expected that this was a gift Professor Watson had purchased to apologize on his behalf.
Harry's mouth opened slightly, feeling a mix of nervousness and touched emotion.
"—If Miss Delacour asks why you bought this, you can tell her you sought my advice on how to apologize to her, and this was my suggestion. Now go, it's already quite late. Use the invisibility cloak, and if other professors or prefects catch you, I won't cover for you—"
The journey from Professor Watson's office to the entrance hall passed in a blur of confusion and gratitude. It wasn't until the bitter night air struck their faces that Harry found his voice again. "Do you think I should pay Professor Watson back for the gift, Hermione?"
Hermione's brow furrowed in thought, her breath visible in the cold air.
Harry had indeed raised a good question, and she couldn't immediately provide a definitive answer.
Logically, he shouldn't let Professor Watson pay for his mistake. But Hermione believed that Professor Watson probably felt he bore some responsibility in their incident, which was why he had taken the initiative to buy the gift.
The grounds of Hogwarts stretched before them like a vast black sea. Only faint rectangles of light from the castle windows provided any illumination, creating isolated pools of dim yellow light on the wet grass. The wind howled like a banshee, whipping their robes around their legs as they stumbled toward the Beauxbatons carriage.
The invisibility cloak offered protection from prying eyes but did nothing to shield them from the treacherous terrain. The day's rain had left the ground treacherous – a slick mixture of mud and wet grass that seemed determined to topple them. They slipped and fell several times and their robes became increasingly caked with mud but the gift box was held protectively above the dirt.
The Beauxbatons carriage loomed ahead of them with its powder-blue surface gleaming faintly in the darkness.
Since Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had arrived at Hogwarts, no one had entered their quarters. The Beauxbatons carriage seemed to be protected by some kind of warning magic. As they approached the door, marked with its distinctive crossed golden wands, they could feel the subtle buzz of protective magic in the air. The door swung open as if sensing their presence, revealing a boy in pale blue robes who peered out cautiously.
"Hogwarts students, ah! I remember you - you're Hogwarts' second champion!"
The boy spotted Hermione and Harry standing at the bottom of the golden stairs and easily recognized Hermione, which made him even more alert.
"What do you want?" He asked sharply and defensively.
Harry drew in a deep breath of the cold night air, and his words came out stiff and formal. "We'd like to see Miss Delacour, um, about what happened earlier today--"
"Earlier today?" The Beauxbatons boy was puzzled. "Did something happen?"
His question, in turn, made Harry and Hermione confused. Could it be that Fleur hadn't mentioned being injured again? But many people had witnessed the scene that day... though thinking about it, most of the people in the Three Broomsticks that time had been from Durmstrang.
Hermione's quick mind sprang into action, and she nudged Harry's ribs cunningly. "We've come to bring something to Miss Delacour... something she bought in Hogsmeade today but forgot to take with her, we happened to find it--"
"Oh, didn't the house-elf deliver everything already--" The boy muttered, looking somewhat annoyed. However, he didn't question Hermione's explanation, and after telling them to wait, he shut the door with a snap.
The light inside the carriage clearly illuminated the white breath coming from their noses and mouths. The weather was truly cold. Harry could even hear the ice fragments on the Black Lake's surface pushing and colliding against each other.
Before the two of them were completely frozen into popsicles, Fleur finally appeared. She pushed open the carriage door, wrapped in a thick cloak, but the cold wind that rushed in still made her shiver.
The cold climate clearly didn't improve her mood. She wrapped the cloak tightly around herself, carefully descending the stairs, then suspiciously eyed the box in Harry's hands.
"Matthieu said you brought something I left in Hogsmeade?" Her voice, slightly nasal from her recent injury, carried both skepticism and interest.
"Ahem--" Harry's face was flushed with discomfort. "Actually... we bought you a gift, um, to apologize for what happened today."
"A gift?" Fleur's surprise was evident in her slightly hoarse voice. Her eyes traveled over their mud-covered forms, and her expression softened noticeably. "Oh, that's not necessary, it was just an accident--"
But then she quickly asked with interest, "What did you bring me?"
"A dress!" Harry blurted out, thrusting the box forward eagerly. Professor Watson had already gone to great lengths, and if they failed to deliver a gift, that would be terrible.
Perhaps touched by Harry's sincere attitude, Fleur, who had not intended to accept it, extended her hand from the cloak's opening, showing a light blue fitted shirt. She gently pulled the box's ribbon and lifted one side of the lid.
"Oh, this is—" Her exclamation was cut off abruptly as suspicion returned to her facial features. With just one glance, Fleur confirmed it was the dress she had liked in the Gladrags Wizardwear store during the day. So, she instantly realized something was amiss.
"How did you know I liked this dress?"
Harry hastily repeated what Professor Watson had instructed, but unexpectedly, Fleur didn't let the matter drop. She looked at him, her suspicious look not entirely dissipating.
"Is that so—" Fleur muttered, "This dress isn't cheap, it's too expensive for an apology gift... how much did you spend?"
Uh—
Harry was tongue-tied. Professor Watson hadn't covered this scenario, so not knowing how to answer, he looked at Hermione.
"We're quite familiar with the store owner. She gave us a discount. it only cost us a few dozen Galleons--" At the critical moment, Hermione spoke without batting an eye, having anticipated the dress wasn't that cheap.
In Harry's view, Hermione's answer was near perfect. But for some reason, when Fleur heard this response, she suddenly burst into laughter. The suspicion on her beautiful face disappeared, and she even seemed delighted. She reached for the gift and her cloak slipped to the ground in the process.
One glance was enough to make Harry's face turn red. He quickly averted his eyes, but Fleur herself moved closer, giving him a light kiss on the cheek. Harry immediately felt the spot where Fleur had kissed him burning! Then, Fleur tried to kiss Hermione too.
"Oh, don't!"
Hermione jumped back in shock, staring at Fleur in horror.
"Okay—" Fleur's graceful shrug was accompanied by a knowing smile as she retrieved her cloak. "Thank you. I accept your apology—"
She ascended the golden stairs with evident pleasure, holding the gift box close, but before entering the carriage, she suddenly turned back to the still-stunned Harry with a mischievous smile and said,
"And please thank Mr. Watson for me—"
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