Fleur picked up a yellow candy and popped it into her mouth, her eyes lighting up instantly.
"Those are Fizzing Whizbees," Kyle explained with a smile. "One of Honeydukes' bestsellers. If you like them, I'll send you some more after school starts."
Fleur was about to nod, but a thought struck her, and her expression shifted to a slight frown. "Sorry, I didn’t bring you a gift."
She had come with a competitive mindset, so naturally, bringing a gift hadn’t crossed her mind. She hadn’t expected Kyle to be so relaxed, not only humble but also giving her a gift willingly and without the slightest hint of being enchanted.
This left Fleur feeling a little embarrassed.
"It’s fine. You can make it up to me the next time we meet." Kyle waved it off with a smile, casually tucking the suitcase back into his bag.
"Alright, if we meet again, I’ll definitely make up for this gift," Fleur promised with a nod. "And when school starts, I'll send you some special French sweets. You’ll like them too."
Maxime, who had been standing nearby, had seen and heard everything exchanged between the two of them. She nodded slightly, and the smile that had vanished earlier slowly reappeared on her face.
As expected, he was still just a twelve-year-old kid. While he’d resisted Fleur’s particular charm, he still got a bit nervous in her presence. And now, she was even giving him gifts.
Though she hadn’t managed to lure him back to Beauxbatons right away, it was a promising start. Besides, it would be concerning if this Kyle boy hadn’t reacted at all. The wizarding world was never short of talented young wizards, but it was rare to find one mature enough to match his talent.
She had even considered setting up an Age Line or something similar to exclude Kyle, should the event actually proceed. But now, she felt there was no need to go to such lengths. Let things unfold naturally.
Seeing that the conversation between Kyle and Fleur had wrapped up, Maxime paid no further attention to McPhail, who was still chattering beside her. She strode over with a deliberately stern expression.
“I didn’t realize that Dumbledore had already briefed you on that matter. Sharing strictly confidential information with a student—now that’s something I’ve never seen before.”
“What?” Kyle blinked, looking puzzled.
Maxime stared at him for a long moment, then suddenly laughed. “Not bad. You’ve got a good sense of discretion.”
“Just remember, this matter remains strictly confidential, so it’s best to keep it to yourself. If word gets out, it could all go to waste.”
Kyle looked even more confused.
Maxime continued talking, almost as if to herself. “I suppose you guessed Fleur would be involved, which is why you mentioned seeing her again. Well, you were correct in thinking that. Fleur will indeed be there.”
Kyle’s mouth dropped open.
He really wanted to tell Maxime that he’d just been being polite. It was like saying, I’ll buy you dinner sometime—one of those phrases that hovers somewhere between sincerity and politeness.
He had plenty of candy; it wasn’t worth fussing over.
But then Kyle began to realize what Maxime was hinting at.
The Triwizard Tournament! It was supposed to be kept secret, and Fleur’s participation was guaranteed... that had to be it.
But wasn’t the tournament set to start in two years? Why were they talking about it so early?
Kyle mulled this over, but his expression remained completely unchanged.
Maxime lowered her head, grumbling in frustration, "It’s all Karkaroff’s fault, that coward. We were so close to reaching an agreement, but the moment he heard Hogwarts was involved, he hid himself in fear. It’s just a wandering soul, what’s there to be afraid of? That Death Eater—"
"Olympe!" McPhail interjected sharply. "There are children here!"
"Sorry..." Maxime paused, her tone softening. "I just can't fathom what Durmstrang was thinking, letting such a coward become headmaster."
"Karkaroff may genuinely have an important commitment," McPhail offered after a thoughtful pause. "He did mention escorting a student for professional Quidditch team tryouts."
"Do you actually believe that?" Maxime scoffed. "Even if the child is a Quidditch prodigy, is it worth the headmaster personally taking him to tryouts? Especially such a long journey... Since when did Durmstrang start taking Quidditch so seriously? I always thought they only used broomsticks for clearing snow!"
"Perhaps things have changed," McPhail suggested.
"So, we’re just supposed to wait?" Maxime said irritably. "We had everything planned for next year. And now… who knows how long it’ll be delayed!"
"There’s nothing we can do about it," McPhail replied, shaking his head. "Karkaroff represents Durmstrang, and without him, that matter has to be postponed for now."
"Hmph," Maxime huffed, clearly displeased. She shot a glance at McPhail, her irritation evident. "Why are you just standing there? Aren’t you supposed to be brewing the potion? I’m eager to see the results!"
"Actually, I suddenly don’t feel like it—" McPhail began, but before he could finish, his feet left the ground. Maxime had grabbed him by the collar, lifting him effortlessly as though he were a child, and carried him toward the back room of the hall.
"Wait, what are you doing? Put me down! Let go! I don’t want to brew anymore!" McPhail protested, struggling helplessly, but despite their considerable size difference, he was soon dragged into the small, dimly lit room.
Fleur looked on, utterly astonished, her view of the world shattered.
In the eyes of all Beauxbatons students, Madame Maxime had always embodied elegance and poise. She had never imagined that the most perfect professor of etiquette would behave so... unrefined.
"Don’t be surprised, my dear," Nicolas said, finally setting aside the popcorn he’d been munching on, a smile playing on his lips. "They’re old friends, and it’s natural for them to relax around each other. When you return to school, you’ll see Madame Olympe’s refined side once more. Oh, and do remember to keep this little incident to yourself."
Fleur nodded stiffly, still processing what she’d seen.
"Would you like to go take a look?" Nicolas invited with a grin. "McPhail rarely demonstrates his potion-making, so this is a rare opportunity."
"Is that alright?" Fleur asked hesitantly.
"Of course, it’s perfectly fine."
Nicolas led Kyle and Fleur toward the room, and just as they reached the door, they heard a loud clanging noise from inside.
Kyle and Fleur exchanged a look before glancing at Nicolas Flamel.
“Oh, you needn’t worry," Nicolas said calmly, as though accustomed to such commotions. "It’ll all be over in a moment."