Chapter 332 — Moody's Lessons
After a very detailed round of questioning and examinations, the female Healer shook her head in confusion and left the room, presumably to speak with Fleur's parents outside.
Fleur lay listlessly across Gabrielle's low desk, feeling rather tired. She was already exhausted, and being questioned had been a painful experience.
Especially since she genuinely felt that there was nothing wrong with her.
The female Healer had asked her all sorts of trivial questions.
"Sister, how many fingers am I holding up?"
Gabrielle quietly slipped into the room, walked over to Fleur, and held up a delicate white finger in front of her.
"One."
Fleur answered weakly.
"What about this one?"
Gabrielle extended another finger.
"Two."
Fleur lowered her head and sighed.
"I'm suspected of having amnesia now, not that I'm stupid."
Fleur affectionately ruffled Gabrielle's hair and patted her head a few times, speaking in a slightly annoyed tone.
In the days that followed, Fleur was "caught" by her parents and taken to a magical hospital in France for a comprehensive examination.
She did her best to resist.
The examination revealed only some minor abrasions and sprains on her legs, as well as a mild cold.
Aside from that, there was no major problem.
Everyone was puzzled.
What exactly had she been through during those missing days?
Perhaps St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries in Britain would be more effective at treating magical injuries? After all, it was the most famous and arguably the best magical hospital in the wizarding world.
The doctors here explained that Fleur might possess a self-protective mechanism that selectively caused her to forget things unfavorable to her, and that it might have nothing to do with magic at all.
Another round of examinations came to an end.
Outside the ward, Fleur's mother found the female Healer who had examined her earlier.
The beautiful blonde woman seemed to want to ask something, but hesitated, as though she wanted to say something yet couldn't bring herself to.
"What you're asking about didn't happen."
The female Healer seemed to understand Fleur's mother's thoughts and shook her head.
"Apart from the possibility of amnesia, she is perfectly normal."
"It doesn't appear to be selective amnesia caused by some kind of trauma," the female Healer concluded.
"Sister, you really don't remember that bad man at all?"
Gabrielle asked from beside the hospital bed.
The Delacour family was in the hospital, and Fleur, as the patient, was lying on a clean white bed.
She felt as though her body had been rusting over the past few days.
"Who is he? Why do all of you think I should remember him? Is he famous? Or is he my boyfriend?"
Fleur recalled the subtle questions her parents had been asking her and spoke impatiently.
Gabrielle's expression immediately fell.
She bent down and secretly pulled out a stack of newspapers from behind her.
One of them was a copy of The Daily Prophet.
It contained a preview of the Triwizard Tournament.
The front page featured a group photograph of the four champions.
In the photograph, Fleur stood beside Malfoy, looking almost as though they were leaning against each other, while he wore a bright smile.
Gabrielle had secretly kept all of these newspapers. Her parents had long since thrown away the previous reports about Malfoy.
"Pretty boy?"
Fleur gave a haughty sneer.
"I have no interest in people like that."
Gabrielle could only stare at her sister somewhat fearfully, marveling at the fickleness of women.
Perhaps it wasn't fickleness.
It was simply that her sister had amnesia.
What about the note from before?
Gabrielle remembered the note she had found at home earlier.
Pansy, of course, would never know the truth behind that message.
All she knew was that Malfoy was still nowhere to be found.
The girl had returned safely.
But what about the person who had supposedly "kidnapped" her?
Pansy put down the newspaper, sighed, pushed open the stone door, and walked toward her dormitory.
This afternoon was Moody's Defence Against the Dark Arts class, so she needed to rest properly and take the lesson seriously.
But before that, she opened her diary.
"Hogwarts has started again, but you still haven't come back. Let's just say you're late. I'll give you a good scolding when you return, so be prepared for a lecture from your Prefect."
"Now that you're in fifth year, exams are such a hassle. I remember you weren't afraid of exams at all. I have so many questions I want to ask you, but you're not here."
"Gryffindor's students are still as annoying as ever. I curse you shamelessly."
"But I taught him a good lesson."
Pansy chuckled softly as she remembered Ron being struck by her spell, his head plunging into the bottom of the bowl and sending soup splashing everywhere.
"I'll still wait for you to come back, as long as there is no definite news."
"I was happy for nothing again today."
After finishing her diary, Pansy put down her pen and went to bed for a nap.
In the afternoon, she attended Mad-Eye Moody's Defence Against the Dark Arts class.
"Potter, come up to the front for a moment."
Moody called out as soon as the class began.
Harry stood up nervously and walked unsteadily to the front.
"Potter, knock me down."
This time, Moody did not call on Ron for the practical duel.
He chose Harry Potter instead.
Compared with Ron's complete lack of resistance, Harry performed much better.
Harry alternated between the Shield Charm and Expelliarmus, demonstrating considerably better improvisation and spellcasting ability than Ron.
Suddenly, Harry seized an opening in Moody's defenses and decisively cast a Leg-Locker Curse at him.
Moody was caught off guard.
The white light struck his legs, causing him to lose his balance.
Just as Harry was beginning to feel pleased with himself—
"Expelliarmus!"
A beam of light flashed past.
Harry was distracted for a moment, and Moody quickly disarmed him.
Harry stumbled backward several steps before falling to the ground.
"You're much better than Weasley, and you're not shy at all."
Moody glanced at Harry.
"You just lack a certain degree of insight."
He spoke in his hoarse voice.
Seeing Harry's confusion, Moody lifted one of his trouser legs.
Harry saw the wooden prosthetic leg.
Only then did he realize his mistake.
"It seems you did learn something during last year's Triwizard Tournament."
Moody acknowledged Harry's skill with spells.
"But not everyone is as lucky as you, Potter."
"Everyone has different talents and different circumstances."
"Just like you, Mr. Potter."
"So I hope you can help some students who aren't very good at Defence Against the Dark Arts outside of class."
"Ultimately, this is a struggle between people."
"I don't expect you to be able to fight powerful Dark wizards. I only hope you can protect yourself when you encounter some of their minions."
Moody spoke slowly.
"Observation is an important factor."
"For example, Potter, you were careless today because you became careless on account of my own mistake."
Moody spoke slowly and seriously, his deep blue eye turning toward Harry.
"You were blinded by the victory that was about to be yours."
Harry lowered his head in shame.