0514 Bad Luck

0514 Bad Luck

The peaceful morning air was suddenly shattered by a bone-chilling shriek that echoed across the grounds. The demolished moss, now transformed into a thousand tiny projectiles, pelted the faces of the front-row students with surprising force, each impact creating a sharp, crackling sound like miniature firecrackers.

The unexpected assault sent the young wizards stumbling backward in pain and surprise, creating a domino effect as they collided with those behind them. The once-orderly gathering dissolved into chaos, with students shouting in various languages and trying to shield their faces from the organic shrapnel.

As the initial pandemonium subsided and the last pieces of moss settled on the frost-covered ground, Bryan made an interesting observation.

Rather than instilling the intended caution, his demonstration and explanation had sparked fascination among the visitors. The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students, far from being properly intimidated, were studying the Whomping Willow with undisguised interest. Their eyes tracked the movement of its powerful branches as they sliced lethally through the air, completely disregarding Bryan's earnest warnings about the tree's dangerous nature.

A worried crease appeared on Bryan's forehead as he contemplated the situation. Perhaps, he pondered, it would be wise to suggest to Hagrid to erect some protective barriers around the Whomping Willow. After all, these Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students were guests from foreign magical schools. Any injury outside of the official tournament events could potentially spark an international diplomatic incident, something that could jeopardize not only the current tournament but future inter-school relations as well.

"Professor Watson," A young Beauxbatons witch called out eagerly, her accent giving her words a melodious tone, "What fascinating sight will you show us next?"

"Well, for our next destination—" Bryan began, but before he could complete his thought, another voice cut through the crisp morning air.

"Professor Watson!"

Bryan felt his eye twitch involuntarily as he recognized the source of the interruption. Among the clustered Beauxbatons students, a familiar figure had raised her hand.

"Might it be possible," The voice continued with carefully crafted innocence, "for us to visit that particular chamber within Hogwarts?"

Fleur Delacour stood out among her peers like a ray of moonlight in darkness. She had little interest in Hogwarts' grounds, which to her appeared crude and unkempt compared to the artistic magnificence of Beauxbatons.

Where her own school had perfectly manicured gardens and elegantly designed architecture, Hogwarts seemed to her like little more than an ancient, weathered fortress. Nevertheless, certain aspects of the castle had captured her attention. She looked at Bryan, whose forehead was now creased with visible irritation, and a mischievous smile appeared across her face, and her eyes were sparkling with barely concealed amusement.

"I'm referring, of course, to the legendary Chamber of Secrets," She elaborated, her voice taking on an almost theatrical tone of admiration. "The place where you confronted and defeated that fearsome basilisk, finally lifting the thousand-year shadow that had haunted Hogwarts' Muggle-born students for generations!"

Fleur tossed her silvery hair, and gazed at Bryan with exaggerated adoration (feigned, of course).

"If possible, I'd love to see the secret chamber left behind by the legendary wizard Salazar Slytherin!"

Fleur's tone was like that of a teenage witch meeting her idol. This caused a problem, as the object of affection for virtually every male student at Beauxbatons, her suddenly apparent fascination with Bryan Watson caused an instant shift in the atmosphere. The Beauxbatons boys, who had moments ago looked at Bryan with admiration and respect, now directed barely concealed hostility towards him.

Bryan didn't care about those hostile glances, but Fleur's request did trouble him. Before he could voice a tactful response, another voice joined the conversation.

"Surely, Professor Watson, you wouldn't deny such a modest request?" Karkaroff's voice oozed false sweetness, his smile as thin and sharp as a blade, never reaching his cold, calculating eyes.

Fleur's eyelashes fluttered as she glanced at Gabrielle beside her, then looked back at Bryan with a somewhat gritted teeth expression.

"Well then, shall we proceed?" Bryan gestured toward Hagrid's hut. "During your stay at Hogwarts, Hagrid will be teaching all of you Care of Magical Creatures. He's one of the most welcoming souls you'll ever meet – don't be surprised if you find yourself invited in for a cup of tea and some of his... unique baking."

Fleur was about to follow the group when she realized Gabrielle's hand was no longer in hers. To her astonishment, she watched as her typically shy sister darted to the front of the gathering, falling into step beside Bryan with obvious delight.

"Well, this is unexpected—" A Beauxbatons student commented with poorly concealed amusement, noting Fleur's shocked expression. "Gabrielle usually shies away from strangers, but she seems quite taken with Professor Watson!"

For some reason, Fleur felt an inexplicable pang in her chest at these words.

While most of the visitors weren't interested in Hagrid's modest hut and its accompanying vegetable garden, Gabrielle showed genuine fascination with every detail. Coming from Beauxbatons, where every plant was carefully selected and maintained for its aesthetic value, Hagrid's practical garden represented something entirely new and intriguing to her young eyes.

"Professor Watson," She asked, leaning against the rough wooden fence and peering into the garden with undisguised curiosity, "Did Mr. Hagrid grow all those big pumpkins we saw in the Great Hall?"

The garden before them showed signs of recent harvest – the largest pumpkins had already been transformed into the impressive jack-o'-lanterns now adorning the Great Hall, while the medium-sized ones had made their way to the kitchen. What remained were the smaller varieties, some still clinging to their vines, no larger than a baby's fist, looking quite adorable.

"Indeed, he did," Bryan replied, his voice gentle as he patted her head kindly. "Would you like me to select one for you to take as a memento?"

Just as Gabrielle's face lit up with joy at the offer, Fleur pushed her way through the crowd. Perhaps due to their previous acquaintance in Paris, before Bryan had achieved such fame, the Bryan Watson that others feared wasn't so intimidating to her. She gave him a stern look and said,

"There's no need to trouble someone we barely know, Gabrielle. I can help you myself—"

"Miss Delacour, Wait! The pumpkin patch has—" Bryan's warning came too late, as Fleur, determined to prove her competence as a sister, had already darted around the fence and into Hagrid's garden—

BANG!

The explosion came with a brilliant flash of light and a thunderous boom that echoed across the grounds. Fleur was thrown backward, her face blackened with soot, crying out in pain as she landed unceremoniously in the muddy ground between the pumpkin vines.

The force of her fall had torn her uniform, revealing a glimpse of her pale, smooth calf – a sight that caused every male student from both visiting schools to gawk shamelessly.

"—Blast-Ended Skrewts,"

Bryan finished with a mixture of sympathy and resignation, watching as the proud Fleur Delacour discovered firsthand why Hagrid's garden wasn't as ordinary as it appeared.

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