Chapter 271
"Big Sister, what's wrong? You haven't looked well since yesterday. Is it because of the competition?"
Fleur Delacour pushed open the door and stepped inside with a pale expression.
Her body swayed slightly as she sat down at the edge of the bed.
This was the small room she shared with her younger sister, Gabrielle Delacour.
Although the Beauxbatons carriage looked ordinary from the outside, the interior was far larger than anyone imagined. Every student had their own room.
The Delacour sisters were a special case.
Because Fleur needed to take care of Gabrielle, the two of them shared one room together.
The room itself was filled with childlike warmth.
Soft golden, emerald green, and sky-blue colors blended together throughout the room, making it feel almost like a fairy tale world.
Several thin strings hung down from the ceiling with folded paper cranes suspended from them.
A small tea table sat in the center of the room, and steam drifted lazily upward from the teapot resting atop it.
At the far end of the room stood two beds.
One of them was completely buried beneath plush toys and dolls.
Naturally, that belonged to Gabrielle.
Most girls her age adored such things.
Gabrielle wore velvet pajamas as she lay on her bed reading an illustrated fairy tale book.
The moment she noticed Fleur's pale complexion, she immediately sat up in concern.
"It's not because of the competition," Fleur replied weakly, shaking her head.
She looked as though she had suffered a severe emotional blow.
Then she slowly sat down beside Gabrielle's bed.
"Big Sister may have to go investigate something early tomorrow morning," Fleur said after taking a deep breath and forcing herself to calm down. "Gabrielle, you have to sleep obediently, alright? Don't cry just because I'm not here."
"Okay, Big Sister."
Gabrielle nodded obediently.
"Oh right, Big Sister—how do you pronounce this word?"
She waved the fairy tale book in her hands.
Lines of moving fairy tale text were written neatly in English.
In the illustration beside the paragraph, a beautiful girl with long golden hair stood inside a tall tower, looking longingly into the distance.
The tower was surrounded by lush forest.
She had lost her freedom.
And desperately yearned for it.
"Which word?" Fleur asked softly.
She finally managed to steady her emotions and smiled gently at her younger sister.
"This one…"
Gabrielle pointed carefully at the page while reading aloud in her soft, sweet voice.
"Rapunzel slowly grew into the most beautiful girl in the world. When she turned twelve years old, she was… trapped in a tall tower by a witch."
Gabrielle pointed at the word she skipped over earlier.
"I don't know this one."
What she failed to notice—
Was that the little color Fleur had barely regained immediately vanished again.
Her face turned deathly pale.
"…Imprisoned means being locked somewhere and losing your freedom," Fleur explained in a trembling voice.
"How pitiful…"
Gabrielle shook her small head sympathetically while staring at the illustrated girl trapped in the tower.
"Gabrielle, it's time to sleep now, alright?"
Fleur gently touched her younger sister's forehead.
Gabrielle obediently placed the fairy tale book onto the bedside table.
The next morning, Fleur woke at the very first hint of dawn.
She quietly climbed out of bed, carefully leaned over, and softly kissed Gabrielle's forehead.
Then she washed up quickly before hurrying out of the room and leaving the carriage entirely.
Her destination—
The Hogwarts library.
"Azkaban and Nurmengard are two of the most famous prisons in the wizarding world."
"The former is infamous because it is guarded by terrifying creatures known as Dementors."
"The latter is a towering fortress that pierces the clouds and fills people with despair."
"If I had committed a serious crime," one wizard once said, "I would rather be imprisoned in Nurmengard."
"The British Ministry of Magic built Azkaban upon a small island in the freezing waters of the North Sea."
"What is more horrifying than losing freedom is losing one's soul."
"In a prison without sunlight, a prisoner's only remaining freedom is the ability to think."
"But Dementors steal even that."
"They devour every positive emotion."
"After prolonged imprisonment, inmates gradually lose all good memories and hopeful thoughts."
"And the only known defense against them…"
"…is the Patronus Charm."
Even though Fleur had already studied much of this material during lessons at Beauxbatons—
Reading it again still sent icy chills spreading through her heart.
It was a punishment so cruel that it inspired true despair.
"Should I warn him?"
Fleur silently asked herself.
The previous night, she had originally intended to visit Olympe Maxime to apologize for failing to win the Triwizard Tournament.
After all, Madam Maxime had placed enormous expectations upon her.
Fleur also wanted to discuss Gabrielle's future education with her.
But when she approached the office door and prepared to knock—
She suddenly heard two unfamiliar voices arguing intensely inside.
One voice belonged to Dumbledore.
The other belonged to Igor Karkaroff.
Dumbledore sounded calmer.
Karkaroff, meanwhile, was practically shouting.
"Capture him and throw him into Azkaban!"
Karkaroff's normally oily voice had transformed into a sharp, resentful roar.
"I truly never expected that young man would do something like this. To be honest, Fleur once had a rather good impression of him as well…"
"Of course, Dumbledore—I support your decision."
That was Madam Maxime's voice.
"The Triwizard Tournament award ceremony is a perfect opportunity," Dumbledore said heavily through the door. "We can use this chance to announce Voldemort's return and warn everyone to remain vigilant."
Voldemort's return?
Fleur's mind went blank instantly.
She leaned weakly against the wall.
The sheer shock nearly overwhelmed her.
Back then, Voldemort's terror had not been limited to England alone.
His influence had once spread across nearly all of Europe.
"Had a good impression of him…"
Hearing herself mentioned made Fleur immediately think of one person.
And Karkaroff's next words confirmed her suspicion completely.
"I want to strangle that Malfoy boy with my own hands!" Karkaroff roared furiously. "If it weren't for him… if it weren't for him… Voldemort would never have returned!"
Even now, Karkaroff still avoided saying Voldemort's name directly out of fear.
"I am also deeply disappointed that my student became involved in something like this," Dumbledore said tiredly. "But anger serves no purpose now. He will receive the punishment he deserves."
"He brought that man back…"
Fleur silently processed the meaning of their conversation.
Then suddenly—
A crisp shattering sound rang out from inside the office.
"Karkaroff! That was my favorite teacup!" Madam Maxime exclaimed angrily.
Perhaps Karkaroff's hands had trembled from fear and caused him to drop it.
Fleur did not know.
But one thing had become painfully clear to her now.
Someone—
Might soon be sent to Azkaban.