The atmosphere of the dinner reached its peak after the two Principals took their seats. The students from Durmstrang were arranged at the Slytherin long table, and their arrival made the gloomy atmosphere at that table even more solid, filled with a cold, iron-blooded scent.
After Krum sat down, he never looked toward Gryffindor again, as if that brief gaze just now had been an illusion. He silently cut the steak on his plate with precise and powerful movements, as if executing some kind of military mission.
Hermione doted on Lia, rubbing her head and enjoying the dependence of the Cat-girl in her arms. Lia's metaphors were always so unique and accurate that she couldn't help but laugh.
Just then, the Great Hall's doors were pushed open again with a loud "bang," accompanied by a rolling sound of thunder.
A bolt of lightning streaked across the enchanted ceiling, illuminating a figure standing at the doorway.
It was a man, soaked to the bone, wearing a tattered black traveling cloak.
He leaned on a long staff, walking with a limp, each step making a dull "clack" sound—the sound of a wooden prosthetic leg striking the stone floor.
He pulled back his hood, revealing a scarred face, as if every inch of skin recorded a brutal battle.
A large chunk of his nose seemed to have been sliced off, and his mouth was a hideous gash. But the most startling thing was one of his eyes.
A massive, round magical eye was spinning wildly in its socket, completely independent of his normal eye.
It moved up, down, left, right, and could even turn to the back of his head, scanning the entire Great Hall without pause.
Mad-Eye Alastor Moody.
Ron and Harry provided some background information nearby.
It was said that half of the prisoners in Azkaban had been captured by him.
However, as soon as the man appeared, Lia smelled a "fake" scent permeating the air.
"Hermione..." Lia gently poked Hermione's arm.
"What's wrong?"
"That man... isn't right." Lia's voice was extremely low. "His scent... is very strange."
Hermione's gaze followed Lia's line of sight to the man limping toward the staff table.
Dumbledore stood up to greet him and patted him on the shoulder.
"Scent?" Hermione pressed.
"Yeah," Lia frowned as she organized her words. "He smells like... two people. One on the outside, and one on the inside. The outside scent is very faint, but the inside scent... is very dirty."
Hermione's heart sank.
She completely trusted Lia's judgment. Lia's Eye of Truth and her beast-like intuition could see through disguises that many Wizards could not perceive.
Two people? One on the outside, one on the inside?
This immediately made her think of Polyjuice Potion.
She had even used it herself.
Hermione didn't say anything out loud. She turned Lia's head back, preventing her from continuing to stare at Moody.
"I understand, Lia. Let's pretend we don't know anything for now. We'll go find Dumbledore after the dinner is over."
Lia nodded and took a bite of fish that Hermione handed her.
Moody sat down at the staff table, pulled out a small flask, and took a swig.
That magical eye of his was still spinning frantically, scanning the young faces. When it passed over Harry, it paused for a moment.
The dinner continued in an eerie and excited atmosphere.
Dumbledore stood up, and the Great Hall fell silent once again.
"Now, since we have all had our fill," Dumbledore's voice was loud and clear, "I must explain the rules of the upcoming Triwizard Tournament in detail."
His blue eyes sparkled behind his spectacles as he scanned the expectant faces.
"Our three champions will be selected from the three schools of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. They will represent their respective schools in three tasks. These three tasks are extremely dangerous, testing magical ability, courage, and logical reasoning skills."
"Therefore," Dumbledore's tone became serious, "after joint consultation between the Ministry of Magic and the three schools, we have decided to implement a safety measure. Only students who are seventeen years of age or older will be eligible to enter the selection."
As soon as he finished speaking, a loud groan of disappointment and protest erupted in the Great Hall.
Fred and George Weasley's faces instantly fell, and they complained loudly.
Dumbledore raised his hand, gesturing for everyone to be quiet.
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