The two wizards in the cozy, warmly lit office were not the type to have their vision obscured by a mere wall. As their sharp gazes swept towards the sturdy oak door that was being knocked upon with three sharp knocks, both Bryan and Moody's normal expression became somewhat subtle.
"Do you need me to step out for a bit, Bryan?" Moody asked gruffly, his hoarse, growling voice striving to conceal the growing anxiety stirring in his heart.
"I don't think that will be necessary, Professor Moody--" Bryan replied in a calm and even tone. With a neat almost lazy wave of his wand hand, the empty dessert box and crumb-spread remnants littering the desk vanished into thin air. Then, he called out in a deep voice towards the door, "Please do come in--"
After a soft click, the heavy door swung open smoothly, and a nimble feminine figure wrapped in a baggy sky-blue traveling cloak, her face hidden beneath the velvet hood, slithered gracefully into the room.
"Hiss-- it's absolutely freezing out there-- Phew, but it's delightfully warm and toasty in here--" The girl didn't even bother to look up and carefully observe the situation she was entering in the office.
She nimbly shut the door behind her to keep out the chilly wind, then removed the cloak from her shoulders with a fluid motion, revealing the exquisite sky-blue silk Beauxbatons uniform that clung to her body.
Fleur Delacour carefully shook off the fine, glittering snowflakes clinging to the fabric of her cloak with fingers while muttering sullenly under her breath,
"Oh, honestly, I really had no desire whatsoever to abandon the coziness of the carriage and trudge all the way up to the castle in this dreadful weather, but Gabrielle was insistent on going out to the grounds and having a snowball fight with those Hogwarts students. So naturally, I had to bundle up and accompany her. She seemed to have a lot of fun, but I was utterly bored out of my mind.
So, my thoughts naturally wandered to you, Monsieur Watson. You must know what I mean - I've been waiting for you to stop procrastinating and finally send me a proper invitation.
Always waiting in anticipation, never receiving one. Oh, you British wizards are simply far too reserved and obtuse in this regard, always being vague and evasive. Why can't you be as bold and straightforward as you were when you defeated Cliodna in the Quidditch final last summer!"
Fleur looked down thoughtfully at her slightly damp cloak for a few moments and let out a melodramatic sigh, seemingly finally satisfied that it was sufficiently dry and snow-free. "Perhaps you could deign to extend an invitation to me for a warming cup of that Greek Mountain tea you are so fond of, Bryan. Although I can't say I'm particularly enamored with its bland taste, at the very least the heat of it could–"
Fleur wrapped her blue cloak over the crook of her arm then finally raised her eyes to gaze towards the innermost office area. With one sweeping glance, her coquettish expression suddenly froze as if hit with an Immobulus charm, and her cheeks, already flushed from the cold, turned an even deeper shade of mortified scarlet at a visible rate!
A deep, nearly palpable silence fell over the room like a heavy curtain, and a tense, awkward atmosphere permeated every corner of the office.
Fleur stood as motionless as a statue, as if she had been hit with a full Body-Bind curse. Bryan pressed his thin lips together firmly, his face carefully blank. Moody, although his face was still turned to face Bryan, had his magical eye was swiveling erratically in its socket as if malfunctioning, the pupil sometimes pointing forward, sometimes inward, seemingly of its own accord.
"Perhaps now is not an appropriate moment, Bryan--" In the end, it was Cliodna disguised as Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody who found the bollocks to break the excruciating, awkward silence that blanketed the room.
His hoarse voice suddenly became much more muffled, and the light in his eyes as he looked at Bryan was strange. "Otherwise, I believe I shall take my leave and return at a more convenient occasion..."
"Oh, that won't be necessary, Professor Moody--" Bryan spoke up quickly to stop Moody from leaving. He had an unshakeable premonition that the true purpose behind the unexpected visit by Fleur would likely be far more troublesome to him than Moody's.
"Oh, je suis désolée, Professor Moody!" Fleur also snapped out of her momentary embarrassment and returned to her senses. She of course immediately recognized that the wizard sitting across from the annoyingly calm Bryan was none other than their strict Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.
This year, as part of the Triwizard Tournament, the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were attending classes together with the Hogwarts students as a gesture of international magical cooperation.
Fleur sincerely hoped that Professor Moody's ears had not overheard all of her thoughtful mutterings just now, but deep down, from her experience of enduring his Defence classes for the past two months, she knew such a wish was naively futile and impossible to realize.
"I didn't notice your presence here, Professor... Um, I was simply waiting outside for a less occupied moment!"
Fleur shot a resentful glare at the relaxed Bryan. That frustrating man could have at least had the courtesy to warn her before she made a fool of herself with her rambling, but instead he had just sat there in silence, passively observing her.
"You don't need to take your leave either, Miss Delacour--" Bryan also called out calmly to stop Fleur who was hurriedly preparing to leave. "Professor Moody and I were merely having a bit of an informal chat. If there is anything of great importance troubling you or any pressing matter for which you need help, please feel free to voice it directly to me now. I'll do my best to assist."
Moody blinked his one normal eye and lowered his head to stare intently into the dregs swirling at the bottom of his empty teacup, using his overly exaggerated actions to clearly indicate that he had no intention whatsoever of interfering in the obviously personal conversation about to unfold between Bryan and Fleur.
"It's nothing important, I just--" Fleur began to subconsciously say after being stopped in her tracks by Bryan's calm words.
Even though she had literally just finished passionately lamenting the British's annoying tendency to be emotionally reserved and evasive, when push came to shove, she was reluctant to directly invite Bryan to be her date to the Yule Ball with another Hogwarts professor present.
However, just as she was on the verge of uttering more tactful words of polite concealment, Fleur abruptly fell silent, and a resolute gleam flashed in her eyes.
After all, she had been engaging in a delicate dance of flirtation and pursuit with the frustratingly elusive Bryan Watson for quite some time now, and she was very familiar with his craftily slippery style.
Every single time she had previously made a brave attempt to earnestly express her feelings for him in a straightforward manner, that annoying man would always display the agility of a mucus-coated flobberworm, and always finds a way to cleverly divert their conversation to an irrelevant topic or deflect her attention.
Perhaps having their stern DADA professor present in this conversation could be an unexpected advantage. This way Bryan would have less leeway to feign ignorance and evade the issue like before.
"Alright then!"
The thoughts flashing through Fleur's mind spurred her to instantly reach a bold resolution. She raised a hand to toy with a shining lock of her radiant silver-blonde hair and lifted her delicate chin at a defiant angle. Her earlier aura of unease and shy hesitation seemed to disappear replaced by an alluring confidence and charm on her face. Then, she walked towards Bryan with light steps.
The change in Fleur's demeanor allowed Bryan to accurately capture her shift in mentality. Seeing Fleur rapidly approaching, Bryan frowned almost slightly. He had already guessed Fleur's intentions.
Earlier in the library, he had just seen the Durmstrang champion inviting Hermione to the ball that would be held on Christmas Eve. He didn't expect that so quickly, the shoe would be on the other foot. He had let Professor Moody stay so Fleur would be restrained in stating her intentions, but Fleur's courage and determination exceeded his expectations.
Perhaps he should make his attitude even clearer-- Before Fleur could extend the invitation, Bryan had already made a decision in his heart.
"The thing is, I came here to ask if you would be willing to--" Fleur quickly glanced at Professor Moody. Even she could see that the posture of this Defense professor, renowned for his sharpness and ruthless attitude towards dark wizards when in office, holding a teacup with only dregs left was pretentious.
"Be my date to the Christmas ball!" Fleur finally extended the invitation in an 'aggressive' manner.
This was truly shocking. The renowned Bryan Watson actually had an ambiguous relationship with the Beauxbatons champion. If this got out, what would people say?
Upon hearing Fleur's bold words, Moody's scarred face suddenly contorted into an extremely subtle, peculiar expression. His prosthetic eye set in its socket swiveled with a faint clicking sound to intently stare at the apparently composed Bryan through the bottom of his raised teacup, wanting to see how Bryan would react.
"I respectfully decline, Miss Delacour." Bryan's response was blunt and without any cushioning pleasantries.
"Ahem, cough cough!" Moody sputtered and choked on the few drops of lukewarm tea he had just sipped, turning into a fit of raspy coughs that sounded like nails rattling in a rusty cauldron.
He honestly had not anticipated that Bryan would refuse the invitation so bluntly and decisively, displaying almost no hesitation or signs of inner struggle at all.
An eerie silence fell upon the study without any warning, suffocating all sound under its oppressive weight. Bryan stared at Fleur with an incomprehensible, stony expression on his face, seeming to have uttered all that he apparently wished to convey on this matter.
For her part, Fleur was indeed briefly speechless by his abrupt rejection, her mouth fell open in a state of shock. Before gathering her nerves and coming here, she had mentally rehearsed numerous possible reactions from Bryan in response to her invitation.
She had thought that even if Bryan were to really refuse, he would certainly refuse her in a tactful, polite manner as he used to do, or cling to his usual annoying technique and feign ignorance while utilizing his wit to redirect their conversation into safer, shallower waters. But she truly had not anticipated that he would shut her down so decisively and unambiguously, showing not even a little bit of concern for allowing her to save face in this terribly awkward situation!
"Why?" Fleur finally managed to force that only word through the churning storm of emotions tightening her throat, her breathing suddenly became rapid and erratic as a rising tide of embarrassment and indignation stained her cheeks red.
"Why?" Bryan asked in return, raising an eyebrow. "Because, according to the traditions, although Hogwarts has organized this ball with the purpose of fostering greater intercultural understanding and friendship between our three schools, I personally do not even have the faintest of interest in attending this tiresome event.
I hope you understand this, Miss Delacour - I have no intention whatsoever of accepting anyone's invitation to serve as their date to this ball, nor do I plan to extend an invitation of my own to anyone. Of course, out of a dutiful sense of politeness and proper etiquette, perhaps I will dance a time or two at the ball, but that's all—."
"But--but--" Fleur sputtered in disbelief, her eyes flashing with the first sparks of seething outrage. "If you never had any such intention, then why did you have that scrawny little boy send me that gown!"
'Bryan Watson had sent Fleur Delacour a ball gown?'
Moody's blue magical eye, which had been nonchalantly facing the window, suddenly wobbled, wanting to focus it on Bryan Watson. Fortunately, he restrained this urge in the end. However, strangely, he suddenly felt very weird about this.
"What are you talking about, Miss Delacour?" Bryan frowned and sounded impatient. "Didn't Harry tell you? That gown was his gift to you, to express his apology for breaking your nose. I simply gave him some advice. That's all--"
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