Percy was somewhat perplexed.
If there was such a perfect solution—one that could divert the attention of the media and the public while significantly boosting his standing in Mr. Crouch's eyes—it would be a win-win situation.
So why, with such a brilliant plan, did he feel so troubled?
Pondering this, Percy voiced the question gnawing at him.
"I don't understand," he said, frowning. "This is clearly a perfect solution, so why do I feel so upset?"
"Because, you see," Veratia said carelessly, stirring her coffee with a small spoon, "this matter is deeply tied to your dear boss."
"You mean…" Percy's heart sank as a bad feeling crept over him.
"What did I say?" Veratia didn't elaborate. Instead, she flashed a sweet smile at Harry, then lowered her head, sitting there playing the part of a serene beauty.
Before Percy could say anything more, Kreacher shuffled into the kitchen, holding a letter out to Sirius.
"A letter for the young master who brings honor to the family," Kreacher muttered, his voice dripping with his usual grumbling. "If the young master could show some consideration for Kreacher and not fill this room with so many people, it would be much appreciated."
That was Kreacher for you—never missing a chance to take a jab at Sirius in a sentence or two.
Sirius gritted his teeth, suppressing his irritation at Kreacher's complaints.
It was just a few words, after all—not worth getting upset over.
Besides, if he punished Kreacher, who would cook their meals? Who would clean the house?
He took the letter, opened it, and with a single glance, let out a wry chuckle.
"What's wrong?" Mr. Weasley asked, curiosity piqued.
Sirius handed the letter to Mr. Weasley, grinning. "We were just saying how the Ministry needs a bigger story to cover up the World Cup fiasco… and, sure enough, they've dropped a bombshell."
Mr. Weasley took the letter, and Percy immediately leaned over his shoulder to read along.
Meanwhile, the Weasley twins and Ron adopted their usual air of indifference, as if the matter didn't concern them in the slightest.
"It seems they're truly out of options if they're announcing something like this ahead of time," Mr. Weasley said with a sigh, setting the letter down.
Percy furrowed his brow, puzzled. "I recall the Ministry repeatedly emphasizing that this year, an important event will be held at Hogwarts… you know what competition I'm talking about…"
"Oh, come off it, Weatherby," Fred interrupted loudly, raising an arm. "If it's already been announced in the letter, why bother keeping it a secret?"
At his twin brother's jab, Percy's ears turned red.
"Shut it!" he snapped. "The Triwizard Tournament is highly confidential. Mr. Crouch himself said so…"
Fred and George didn't respond, instead pulling faces at Percy.
"The Triwizard Tournament?" Ron looked up, intrigued. "What's that?"
Seeing the innocent curiosity in Ron's eyes, Percy's expression turned smug. He cleared his throat and began to explain in a self-important tone. "The Triwizard Tournament is a magical competition held between the three major European wizarding schools: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Durmstrang Institute, and Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Each school selects one champion to represent them."
"The chosen champions compete in three tasks," he continued, "which are traditionally judged by the headmasters or headmistresses of the competing schools. These tasks test magical ability, intelligence, and courage. The champions vie for the honor and glory of winning the tournament, as well as the Triwizard Cup and a monetary prize. The first tournament was held around the late thirteenth century."
"However, the tournament is notorious for its extreme danger. Many champions have died during the tasks, and due to the high death toll, it was discontinued sometime after 1792."
"So we're reviving that kind of event?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowed. "That's awfully barbaric!"
But Hermione's concern was hers alone. The Weasley twins, on the other hand, looked positively eager.
"This is brilliant!" Fred said with a grin, turning to George. "Maybe we could enter the tournament, win it, and become Hogwarts heroes—what do you think?"
"Oh, don't be daft, Fred," George said, rolling his eyes. "If all goes as expected, each school only gets one champion, which means only one of us could compete."
"As if you two are guaranteed to be picked," Percy said with a weary sigh. "When the decision was made to restart the tournament, the three headmasters agreed that participants must be at least seventeen years old to compete. And you two… well, I'm afraid you're not old enough."
"We've got our ways, so don't you worry about us, Weatherby," the twins said in unison, chuckling mischievously.
Percy clenched his fists, the veins in his forehead throbbing, but he held back from snapping.
As expected, the announcement of the Triwizard Tournament's revival immediately overshadowed the unfortunate incident at the World Cup.
Part of the reason was the rubber duck wand fiasco—after all, the campsite had only been thrown into chaos, with no real harm done.
If anyone had been hurt, it was probably just some poor soul who got spooked by the Dark Mark in the sky and tripped over their own feet.
Harry, however, wasn't thrilled about the age restriction.
If he couldn't compete in the Triwizard Tournament, it felt a bit unfair.
Veratia, ever bold, had to console him several times to soothe the sting to his young heart.
Cassandra, meanwhile, was growing increasingly uneasy, though she couldn't pinpoint why.
The day before term started—the day Veratia was due to return to the Austrian Ministry of Magic—Cassandra finally voiced her concerns.
"I keep feeling like something's off lately," she said, rubbing her temples with a sigh. "Grindelwald, you're skilled at divination. You must know what's going on, don't you?"
Wizards, after all, were far more superstitious than Muggles, and sometimes a shift in mood could be a form of prophecy.
Veratia, who had been sipping her coffee, nearly sprayed it all over Harry's face. She barely contained her laughter, forcing herself to respond calmly. "Is that how you ask for help, Cass?"
She really didn't want Cassandra to find out about her little schemes, but showing any panic would only make her suspicious.
This casual response was the most unassuming way to avoid raising red flags.
Cassandra's temple twitched.
This Grindelwald…
She suppressed the urge to fire back a sarcastic retort. The priority now was figuring out what was wrong.
Don't get mad, don't get mad…
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she said, "Fine. Please, Miss Grindelwald, help me."
Seeing Cassandra's begrudging expression, Veratia felt a smug satisfaction.
She was enjoying this—having already swooped in to steal the "little pig" Cassandra had been raising, and now toying with her like this.
Oh, don't laugh.
"Hmm…" Veratia closed her eyes, pretending to peer into the future. After a moment, she opened them again. "It's probably because you haven't been resting well, Cass. The Eye of Prophecy tells me you need more sleep."
"Is that so?" Cassandra touched her cheek thoughtfully. "Well… you might be right. I've been having nightmares lately—dreams about you and Harry…"
She stopped abruptly.
Sirius, who had overheard their conversation from nearby, slapped a hand to his face.
This Malfoy girl…
She really wasn't the sharpest wand in the shop.
Veratia, however, felt a pang of guilt.
Cassandra's dreams did, after all, have something to do with her.
But Veratia also felt it wasn't entirely her fault. Surely Cassandra deserved to feel a little involved, didn't she?
Harry, meanwhile, was sweating bullets, unsure what to say.
Should he play along with Veratia? Or say something else entirely?
He quickly decided against it. Staying silent was the safest bet—less talk, fewer mistakes. Too much talk, and he'd dig himself a deeper hole.
But the more he tried to blend into the background, the less it worked.
"Harry, you tell me," Veratia said suddenly, calling him out.
Harry's brain went into overdrive, frantically searching for a response.
"What should I say?" he settled on the simplest tactic—playing dumb.
"Just eat your food," Cassandra said with a dismissive wave. "I can tell you don't have a single constructive thing to offer, so just eat."
Harry immediately lowered his head, relieved to escape the conversation's crossfire. If Cassandra figured anything out, things could get messy.
That evening, Veratia's plans didn't quite pan out.
Cassandra, convinced that Veratia was leaving for Austria the next day, insisted they stay up all night talking to "bond."
Veratia: No, thank you very much…
But there was no escaping. Cassandra watched her with narrowed eyes, making it hard not to overthink.
By morning, both girls looked worse for wear.
They'd chatted through the first half of the night, but the second half turned into a standoff, neither willing to sleep first and let the other slip away.
"What's wrong with you two?" Hermione asked, concerned.
"Nothing," Cassandra said with a faint smile. "Grindelwald was just so reluctant to part with me that we talked all night…"
Veratia sipped her steaming coffee, her eyes slicing through Cassandra like daggers.
If looks could kill, Cassandra would've been riddled with holes by now.
Veratia was fuming. She'd hoped to spend her last night in England savoring a tender moment, but Cassandra had ruthlessly interrupted her plans.
Harry, meanwhile, sat quietly, wondering if he should sneak off to Austria some weekend to visit Veratia and have some fun…
Yes, under the guise of "learning German."
He really wanted to learn German.
Cassandra: I speak German too, you know.
"Eat up," Harry said suddenly. "We've got to catch the train soon. Don't forget, today's not just Veratia's last day in England—it's also the start of term."
"Speaking of term," Veratia said with a bright smile, "Slytherin's Gemma was just accepted by the Austrian Ministry of Magic. I only got the news last night~"
"That's great news," Harry said, grinning. "It's nice to have friends nearby in a foreign country…"
"I must remind you, Potter," Cassandra cut in, exasperated, "your dear Miss Grindelwald is Austrian. Austria isn't a foreign country to her—England is."
She wasn't wrong. Coming to England across mountains and seas had been Veratia's true journey as a stranger in a strange land.
Veratia didn't respond. Instead, she tilted her head up, blowing at her bangs to pointedly ignore Cassandra.
Harry couldn't help but find this petulant Veratia utterly adorable.
"I still don't get it," Ron said, chewing on his bread. "Why do we have to take the Hogwarts Express to school? Can't we get there some other way? Do we really have to cram in with everyone else?"
"Theoretically, you could," Sirius said. "When I was at school, some parents would send carriages for their kids at the start of term. The Malfoys, for instance—old Abraxas was quite indulgent with his son."
"And what about the others?" Ron asked, intrigued. "Like the Blacks?"
"Oh, please," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "I'd already run away from home by then and was the shame of the Black family. Do you think I had the privilege of riding in a carriage?"
"Fair point," Ron said, nodding in agreement.
After breakfast, Veratia said her goodbyes.
She shared a farewell kiss with Harry, then turned to leave.
"That's it?" Cassandra asked, arms crossed. "Nothing to say to me, Grindelwald?"
"Oh," Veratia said, turning back with a mischievous grin. "Does our dear Cass want a goodbye kiss too?"
Cassandra's face flushed red.
"Who—who said anything about that?" she huffed, extending a hand. "A handshake will do. We're friends, aren't we?"
"No, we're closer than friends."
Veratia stepped forward, smiling brightly as she took Cassandra's hand. Then, in a swift move, she caught Cassandra off guard with a quick, feather-light kiss on her cheek.
"Bye-bye~"
With a laugh, Veratia stepped into the fireplace. Green flames flared, and she vanished, leaving a stunned Cassandra standing there, speechless for a long moment.
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