Fleur did not beat around the bush, asking Maurise earnestly, "I just wanted to ask you, have you discovered the secret of that egg?"
So she was here fishing for information.
Maurise nodded inwardly, though he knew she was bound to be disappointed.
He answered frankly, "My golden egg shattered, and the contents inside have vanished."
"Shattered?" Fleur asked in disbelief, pressing him. "How did you manage that?"
"The Severing Charm," Maurise said with a look of utter indifference. "I imagine you can guess what happened next."
Fleur was silent for a few seconds before asking, "So you have absolutely no clues?"
"Pretty much."
Receiving this answer, Fleur actually felt a bit perplexed.
If that was the case, why was Maurise still acting so nonchalant? He was even lying here sunbathing. Wasn't he anxious at all?
"Don't worry about me," Maurise suddenly smiled at her. "Even without any information, I can handle the task."
Fleur stared at him for a few seconds and gave a soft hmph. This attitude of his annoyed her a bit, but she couldn't pinpoint exactly what was wrong.
"I will not worry about my opponent," she lifted her chin. "Arrogance will make you suffer."
Maurise merely shrugged. The golden egg was shattered; getting anxious wouldn't bring it back.
"What about you, Delacour? Do you know what the golden egg is for?"
"..."
Fleur didn't reply immediately, seemingly weighing her options.
Finally, she spoke, "What I can tell you is that the Second Task has something to do with water."
Maurise was stunned for a moment. Fleur didn't look like she was joking with him. She had actually given him the clue. That was completely unexpected.
"Thank you," Maurise said, his tone very sincere.
The corners of Fleur's mouth quirked up involuntarily. Courtesy demanded reciprocity. Since Maurise had told her the truth about his golden egg, she felt she ought to offer some information in return.
"That is all I can say," she raised her head, showing a hint of pride. "You must remember, we are competitors."
Maurise nodded, "I understand. This is more than enough."
Fleur stood up and dusted off her robes, looking ready to leave. But she hesitated for a moment, turned her head, and suddenly asked, "By the way, Black, have you found a partner for the Yule Ball?"
"Not yet," Maurise answered casually.
"Is that so?" Fleur stared at him. "I haven't either."
"..."
The silence stretched for two and a half seconds.
What else was there to say?
Maurise took the hint. He stood up and formally asked, "Then, Miss Delacour, would you do me the honor of attending the ball with me?"
"Are you asking me?"
"Obviously."
"Alright." Fleur broke into a genuine, radiant smile and answered briskly, "I accept."
Maurise returned a faint smile. The matter of a dance partner had been resolved smoothly—much easier than he had imagined.
Fleur turned around; she was truly preparing to leave this time.
"We will talk tonight, Maurise," she said. "Madame Maxime is looking for me. Goodbye."
Maurise watched her go, slowly withdrawing his gaze. On the ground nearby, Tin was still goofily batting the crystal ball around.
---
Soon, the Christmas holidays arrived.
Just like every year around this time, Hogwarts was blanketed in a thick layer of snow.
Nothing particularly noteworthy happened during this period at the castle. The only thing worth mentioning was probably the Weasley twins peddling a kind of prank cookie that could temporarily turn people into animals. Sales were unexpectedly good.
One afternoon, Maurise was eating lunch in the Great Hall.
The students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had been dining with them since their arrival. This normally wouldn't have been anything to care about. The problem was that occasionally, as Fleur was leaving the hall, someone would inevitably invite her to the ball, and she would openly declare that she had already accepted his invitation.
Immediately after, several inexplicable, glaring looks would fall upon him.
However, Maurise chose to ignore them entirely, focusing on finishing the last piece of cake on his plate.
"Maurise, I am returning this book to you."
Suddenly, Hermione appeared beside him and placed a beautifully bound book on the table.
"Oh, alright."
Maurise put the book away. Yes, it was indeed One Hundred Tips for Witches to Become Beautiful and Elegant.
It was this book again! Hermione had borrowed it a few days ago.
Maurise's gaze fell on Hermione's teeth, and he looked a bit surprised. "You did something to your teeth?"
Hermione instinctively closed her mouth.
"You noticed? That's why I borrowed your book," she said softly.
"It's very obvious," Maurise nodded.
"It is so strange," Hermione sighed. "Harry and Ron didn't notice at all. I thought it hadn't worked."
She glanced at the plate in front of Maurise and frowned. "Have you eaten a lot of sweets again?"
"Yes," Maurise said, as if it were a matter of course.
"You need to control yourself, Maurise," Hermione's tone immediately became serious, sounding remarkably like Professor McGonagall. "Otherwise, you might end up like Malfoy's two cronies."
Crabbe and Goyle?
Maurise shook his head, "I wouldn't go that far."
Strangely enough, even though he ate a massive amount of sweets, he had always maintained a healthy weight. As for his sweet tooth, he had absolutely no intention of changing it anytime soon.
At this moment, Harry and Ron came over.
Ron was still chewing on something. He mumbled, "Did you guys just call my name?"
"No," Hermione said flatly.
Ron let out an "Oh."
"Maurise," Harry lowered his voice and asked. "Have you found a dance partner? Don't forget we are champions, we have to open the dance."
Maurise glanced at him, "I found one."
He felt like lately, whenever he ran into Harry and the others, the topic would inevitably veer toward the Yule Ball.
Ron immediately asked with burning curiosity, "Who is it?"
"Fleur," Maurise replied.
"I knew it." Before Ron could even act surprised, Hermione nodded beside them. "I guessed as much ages ago."
Ron, however, wore a look of deep envy.
"You're both champions," he muttered. "Quite a match, aren't you?"
Maurise felt like his tone was distinctly sour.
He changed the subject. "Ron, did you resolve your dress robes issue?"
Ron's expression turned a bit awkward. "I suppose... you could say it's resolved."
Hermione chimed in happily, "Ron has been practicing Transfiguration since the term started, so it shouldn't be a problem anymore. Right, Harry? Harry?"
Harry jolted back to reality and blinked rapidly.
"Oh, right," he said perfunctorily. "Of course, no problem."
He seemed to have been completely spacing out and probably hadn't even caught what Hermione had said.
"Potter?"
A gruff, gravelly voice rang out.
At some point, Moody had hobbled over and was standing right beside them.