Kael passed through the side door behind the main guest seats and entered a small room, both walls lined with portraits of Wizards.
Kael also saw Phineas; he and another bearded headmaster were standing behind a house, poking their heads out and watching them.
"I heard your name just now," Fleur walked over from the fireplace and said, "That was some cheer! I didn't expect you to be this famous at Hogwarts."
"Just home turf advantage," Kael said. "If we were at Beauxbatons, I'm sure you'd be way more popular than me."
"Not necessarily." Fleur flicked her silver hair, not really agreeing or disagreeing.
Kael looked over at Krum. The legendary Seeker was still the same as always; after seeing Kael, he just gave a simple nod, then went back to leaning on the fireplace, bent over and lost in thought about something. Being a Champion didn't seem to make him very happy.
It was unclear what was being said outside, but the cheers lasted for a long time without dying down.
And during this time, no one else came in—not Dumbledore, not Chris, nor Bagman. It was as if everyone had forgotten there were still three people here.
Krum stayed at the fireplace the whole time, saying nothing. Luckily, Fleur and Kael were at least familiar with each other, so they could make small talk.
Finally, after more than ten minutes, the door was opened from the outside again.
A person hurried inside, everyone's gaze instinctively shifting to them.
"What's up?" Fleur looked at the thin figure. "Are they asking us to go back to the auditorium?"
"Oh… ah, yes." After a brief daze, Harry hurriedly averted his eyes from Fleur's face, nodded, and said, "The Daily Prophet people are here, the Headmaster's been talking to them.
Oh, and the Minister of Magic. He asked me to come tell you all to go back to the auditorium."
"That Cornelius Fudge?" Fleur frowned.
Kael, meanwhile, was watching Harry the whole time.
"Congrats, Kael." Harry said with a smile. "Fred and George are talking about making a hundred-foot-long banner—we'll all be cheering for you during the tournament."
With that, he waved and trotted off.
Fleur stood up too, starting to walk out the door, sulking a bit,
and Kael—snapping back to himself—shook his head and followed after her.
"Seems like you're not a big fan of Fudge." He asked. "You haven't met him before, right?"
"No, but Ms.Maxime mentioned him to me."
"Because of your sister Gabrielle?"
"Mm." Fleur nodded.
"Did that get resolved?" Kael asked curiously.
"Kind of." Fleur said angrily, "There were obviously six people involved back then… but Fudge pinned all the blame on just one and only agreed to lock him up in your Wizard Prison…
Of course, it's only right—he did use an Unforgivable Curse—but what we wanted was justice for everyone involved. Fudge just kept making excuses."
While they talked, they had already arrived at the auditorium.
They were welcomed by waves of cheers.
Kael noticed that the Goblet of Fire placed there had completely burned out.
And here, Fleur's face was completely free of displeasure. She knew well that negotiating with the Minister of Magic was Ms.Maxime's business, not hers.
The most she could do was complain in private where no one could hear.
"Welcome, our outstanding Champions." Fudge said with a smile.
He looked radiant, and his waistline seemed rounder than it was during that hearing in the Trial Room.
Fudge came over and shook everyone's hands warmly. When he got to Kael, he shook his arm extra enthusiastically twice.
"Well done, kid. I just knew you had it in you."
"Click!"
With a puff of purple smoke, a Daily Prophet reporter snapped this scene excitedly.
"Front page, Minister!" the short man lugging the camera said excitedly.
"No, Baddock." Fudge shook his head. "I think the front page should be for the Champions… How about a big group photo?"
"Brilliant idea, Minister!" The photographer rushed around, herding the three Champions—including Kael—into the center of the auditorium.
Though Ms.Maxime looked displeased, she still stepped aside.
"Don't move, Miss…" The photographer, Baddock, was a bit astonished at Ms.Maxime's towering figure, but still reminded, "This is a group shot, you can stand by the Champion, just don't block them."
Ms.Maxime's expression darkened further; she turned to look at Dumbledore.
"All right, no problem at all," Dumbledore said, stepping behind Kael. "How's this?"
"Perfect," said Baddock.
Maxime and Karkaroff also walked over, taking places behind their own school's Champion.
Then came Fudge, Chris, and Bagman, representing the Ministry of Magic.
Once everyone was in place, Baddock didn't take the picture right away—he rushed over to the Gryffindor table, and without giving Harry a say, dragged him to the very front of the table to sit.
"What are you waiting for—let's cheer for the Champions!"
In a burst of applause, Baddock finally pressed the shutter.
The banquet ended here. The students each returned to their common rooms, while Kael, Fleur, and Krum headed back to the small room from before.
This time, the three headmasters, Fudge, and Chris came in with them.
"I really hope getting some time together has helped you grow closer," Dumbledore said with a smile. "The Triwizard Tournament is a fierce contest, but it's also a great opportunity to make friends… I've always believed sometimes making a like-minded friend is even more precious than being the Champion."
Krum's expression shifted, but he still didn't say anything.
"All right, Albus, let's get to business," said Karkaroff. "Viktor's not feeling well lately, he should get some rest early."
"Of course, quite right." Dumbledore replied. "May I recommend Madam Pomfrey of the Hogwarts Hospital Wing? She's one of the best Healers I know."
"That's quite a compliment," Karkaroff said.
"Let's get on with it." Bagman rubbed his hands together, his eyes twinkling as he scanned the room. "Time to brief our Champions, right?"
"Exactly," Fudge chuckled. "Chris, want to do the honors?"
"Sure." Chris gave a nod, taking two steps forward.
"The first task… is to test your courage. So I won't tell you what it is. Facing the unknown is a vital Wizard trait… The only hint I can give you is: 'Pass the trials'."
"There are three obstacles in total, corresponding to the three schools. Only by making it to the end will you get the clue for the second task."
"That's about enough, Chris." Bagman said with a grin. "Can't spill too much—otherwise where's the fun in the competition?"
"Right, you're not wrong." Chris grinned slightly.
Kael, Fleur, and Krum all shot Bagman a not-so-friendly look… but he just smugly patted his own belly.
"Now for the timing," Chris clapped his hands. "The first task will be on November thirtieth, in front of all the students, to be judged by the panel."
"While competing, Champions are forbidden from receiving help from any other professor. Your only weapon is your wand."
Saying "wand," Chris's tone emphasized those two words, as if as a warning.
Thankfully, no one else seemed to notice.
"Given how demanding the Tournament is, the Champions are exempt from year-end exams," Chris continued. "You have a full month—don't worry about anything else, just prepare well."
Then he turned to Dumbledore. "I think that's all, Albus?"
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "How about a drink together later? I've got a fine whisky at my place."
"I'm afraid not, Albus," Chris said. "It's an especially busy time, there's still lots to handle at the Ministry."
"It's just a drink, no harm in it," Fudge winked, smiling. "Besides, I'm sure you want to celebrate too."
"Well… all right then." Chris nodded and agreed.
"Wonderful!" Dumbledore said with a smile.
He wanted to invite Maxime and Karkaroff as well, but when he turned, he found the two had already left, each with their school's Champion in tow.
...