0644 The Banquet

The sudden appearance of the giant squid captured everyone’s attention, drawing all eyes down to peer through the transparent ice dance floor into the murky depths of the Black Lake below. Though the behemoth was too deep to make out clearly, its shadow, many times larger than a man, stirred gasps and exclamations as it rolled past.

But it was the arrival of the second group of creatures in swift pursuit of the squid that provoked the most dramatic reactions. Students and faculty members alike gawked in astonishment as the beings came into clearer focus with the ice magnifying their alien facial features.

At first glance, they resembled the mermaids of Muggle fairy tales and sailor’s legends, with humanoid upper bodies, gray skin, entangled deep green hair, and fish tails churning the black water.

But unlike their romanticized fictional equals, there was nothing enchanting or alluring about these beings.

Bulging yellow eyes glared darkly up at the wizards above, their lips were curled back from rough broken yellow teeth in something uncomfortably close to a sneer. Crude pebble necklaces hung around their necks, strung on tattered ropes that told of a primitive, savage existence lurking in the depths of the lake.

As the merpeople gestured at the squid, which had paused to float calmly in place, the older students who had already covered merpeople in their studies leaned over to inform their less knowledgeable neighbors.

“Merpeople,” When the golden menus that Professor Watson conjured up automatically flew to each table, the older students had already told the answer to the students at its adjacent table.

Ron, still frightened by the sudden upsetting of his expectations for the evening, turned to direct his questions to Hermione alone in a whisper rather than risk spreading his ignorance to the whole table. “What are they?”

Ron had thought Hermione would be able to answer this question, but when several moments passed without any explanation coming, Ron finally dragged his attention away from the floor and back to his date. But Hermione didn’t seem to have heard him at all. She was still staring intently at the scene below, and her brows were knitted and eyes narrowed in typically intense focus. Her lips moved silently, as though she was talking to herself.

Ron could practically hear the gears turning in that brain of hers as she probably pondered over some weird things again.

“What’s wrong, Hermione?” Ron asked, baffled but not a little concerned by her odd reaction. “Did you spot something?”

“Oh… Nothing,” Hermione murmured distractedly, the merpeople and squid having evidently concluded their discussion not to interfere with the wizards’ celebration and went off together into the depths once more. She shook herself slightly and withdrew her gaze from the floor, but her eyes remained distant, flickering with some thought. “I was just thinking about the merpeople. They—”

Ron’s ears perked up, eager to hear Hermione explain on some bit of magical trivia. But before he could press her for more details at her unusual pause, she seemed to remember their place and had her mouth smartly shut again, and did not forget to shot Ron a warning look because sitting next to her were the other champions and Ministry of Magic officials!

Further down the table, Dumbledore’s clear, loud voice broke the hush that had fallen after the excitement, pointing his own menu selection in a calm tone. At his words, a portion of his chosen dish materialized on the gleaming ice plate before him, as though conjured from thin air.

A wave of understanding rippled through the room as the other diners followed on and began placing their own orders, and each dish obediently appeared as it was spoken and ordered.

Harry with his stomach gurgling as enticing scents began to fill the air, hurried to follow Dumbledore’s example.

“Hungarian goulash,” he said, and was instantly presented with a steaming bowl of rich, savory stew, so hot he could feel its warmth radiating against his face as he leaned over it.

All around the makeshift banquet hall, appreciative murmurs and the clinking of cutlery against ice crockery rose up as people fed upon their meals like starving wolves.

The terror and adrenaline of the earlier underwater surprises seemed to have stirred a voracious hunger in students. Only those at the head table showed a bit more restraint, many of them were clearly conscious of their position under the many eyes and strived to match the well-mannered dining attitude set by the heads of the three schools.

But while everyone else tucked in and focused on their plates, Bryan couldn’t let down his guard. Organizing and arranging an event of this scale was no small feat, and with so many prominent figures in attendance, both from Hogwarts and outside, he had to stay alert for the smallest hint of a problem or diplomatic mistake.

At a banquet, participants can fully enjoy delicious food and a rare spectacular scene, but as an organizer, one can’t be so carefree. Dumbledore was an exception; his “Status” and seniority allowed him to disregard these matters, but Bryan as the ‘representative’ of Hogwarts could not.

Throughout the banquet, he maintained a polite smile while listening to Ludo Bagman chatter on about how he and Dumbledore should have submitted the banquet plans to the Ministry of Magic earlier, so that the Ministry could have arranged for Daily Prophet reporters to come and record the scene when they created this ice castle.

At the same time, Bryan also had to pay attention to whether the young champions at the head table and his colleagues at the staff table were enjoying their meals.

What surprised Bryan was that the champions, who should have been basking in people’s envious gazes, didn’t seem to be very happy. Or rather, most of them weren’t very happy.

Hogwarts’ “official” champion, Cedric Diggory, and the Ravenclaw girl Cho Chang got along very well. During the meal, the two of them would occasionally lean in close and whisper to each other as though sharing sweet secrets meant only for the other’s ears. Cho Chang was made to laugh by Cedric again and again, while the handsome Cedric’s occasional glances at Cho were full of undisguised adoration.

Cedric and Cho were both students in Bryan’ physical education class. Having taught them for so long, Bryan couldn’t have failed to notice the budding affection between the two students long ago.

It was just a pity for Harry. Bryan still remembered that in one class, Harry had secretly glanced at Cho as many as forty-eight times, not even noticing the “disappointed in you” looks Hermione gave him many times.

Just like now. Harry may not have noticed himself, but he would often glance at Cedric and Cho with his eyes while lowering his head to eat.

As for Fleur, she didn’t seem to mind Harry’s little actions. In fact, she was also distracted herself.

Just as Harry was secretly paying attention to Cho, Fleur would occasionally pretend to be listening to Madame Maxime speak, but her attention was actually on him. The way she looked at him was no longer so angry, but tinged with a bit of resentment.

Fleur and Harry, the two of them were together here in appearance but not in spirit. From this angle, they were quite suitable to be paired together.

From the message Fleur had Harry pass on, Bryan was clear about what Fleur was scheming. Bringing the most famous boy at Hogwarts to her side, Fleur probably wanted to use this method to prove her charm. Bryan understood her “painstaking efforts,” but…

The atmosphere between Hermione and Ron was also very subtle. The burden Hermione shed was not just the school bag she was carrying. As the banquet progressed, her gaze towards Ron became more and more open, but the problem lay with Ron.

This young man seemed unable to shake off his lack of self-confidence. He sat there, and his every action seemed so anxious and uneasy. Whether it was the gazes from the young wizards below or the radiant Hermione beside him, they all brought great pressure to Ron.

Honestly, in Bryan’ view, this youngest son of the Weasley family was not unexceptional, it was just that his excellence was deeply hidden within. His appearance, compared to his friends and siblings around him, was indeed much more ordinary. Moreover, perhaps due to his upbringing, Ron was always in the habit of comparing his own shortcomings with the strengths of others, which further added to his inner anxiety.

He had long lived in an environment where he was ignored, and his feelings of inferiority were still deep-rooted. To thoroughly cure this, the best way was to constantly receive encouragement and admiration, gradually building up his own self-confidence. But unfortunately, accompanying the two outstanding young people Harry and Hermione, the neglect he suffered would continue.

The conversation between Viktor Krum and Daphne Greengrass was quite harmonious. As an International Quidditch star, Viktor naturally knew how to maintain his image in public, while Daphne, born into the ‘Noble’ Greengrass family, was equally adept at this. The two of them maintained a proper distance and chatted politely.

It was just that… Viktor seemed to have the same problem as Harry and Fleur, his eyes occasionally drifted unintentionally to Hermione. Moreover, to Bryan’ slight puzzlement, Krum’s gaze seemed to always avoid his own. Did this young man have such a deep prejudice against him?

With an inward sigh, Bryan rose from his chair, using the opportunity to sweep the Great Hall with an assessing look. Sure enough, the lively chatter that had flowed so freely at the start of the meal had quieted to an anticipatory murmur, the festive atmosphere was taking on an electric edge.

More and more glances were being fixed at the head table, not in search of a model for proper etiquette now, but in barely contained impatience for the evening’s promised ball to begin. Even Madame Maxime, who had been playing the gracious guest to perfection all throughout the meal, was starting to respond to Hagrid’s eager gazes.

Catching Dumbledore’s twinkling eye over the French pudding, Bryan arched an inquiring brow and received a tiny nod in return. With that, he drew his wand and turned to face the expectant crowd.

A complex little twist sent the heavy tables sinking into the floor as though swallowed up by the ice. Startled cries rang out across the hall, but they quickly turned to gasps of delight as a platform rose up in their place, filling the space from wall to wall.

A piano made of pure, clear ice appeared under an ice pine tree. The keys automatically jumped, and a soothing, melancholy waltz floated through the hall.

“Well then–” Bryan looked at the obviously nervous champions beside him, “Ladies and gentlemen, are you getting excited?

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