As the saying goes, those who stay close gain the advantage. In that sense, Fleur's deliberate move to sit near Draco neatly fit the idea.
Fleur Delacour, also a Champion, took the seat opposite Draco with an entirely natural air, as though it were nothing more than a coincidence.
Their eyes met briefly. Fleur then turned her head aside, a subtle, almost reflexive gesture.
What she did not realize was that Madame Maxime, who was seated at the same round table, had noticed everything. The Beauxbatons headmistress found herself unable to understand what her most promising student was thinking.
Sensing the hostility coming from the Beauxbatons headmistress, Draco frowned slightly as he studied the menu.
'According to the information Lockhart provided, the Dumbledore seems to be trying to draw her over… Is it because of the giant connections behind her?'
Draco couldn't help but be wary of her attitude.
As the head of a magical school, and someone with the potential to build bridges with the giants, she was clearly not a figure that could be ignored. More importantly, Draco had no desire to suddenly make a new enemy.
Even if, for now, his side and the White Wizard shared a common foe…
...
Meanwhile.
It was hard not to notice that Dumbledore, who should have been present, was nowhere to be seen. Even Severus Snape, who had disappeared along with him, failed to attend the Yule Ball.
What was more notable was that neither of the two Ministry officials serving as judges for the Triwizard Tournament were present. Instead, the Ministry was represented by Percy Weasley.
Percy Weasley, who had joined the Ministry straight after graduating last year, walked directly over to Harry Potter and pulled out an empty chair beside him.
Without saying a word, Percy simply fixed Harry with a sharp, unwavering gaze.
Harry understood what Percy meant and nodded. "Good to see you, Percy. I don't think anyone's sitting here."
To be honest, Harry Potter had complicated feelings about Percy Weasley.
Percy was family, yes, but his loyalties had never truly been with his own relatives. To him, the Ministry always seemed to come first. Because of that, Harry found it difficult to ever treat him as one of their own.
Not to mention that after joining the Ministry, Percy had only grown more arrogant.
The Percy Weasley in front of him was nothing like a "typical" Weasley. He was dressed in a brand-new navy formal robe, the sort Ron would never wear, and his face carried a smug, self-satisfied expression.
And very quickly, Harry understood why.
"I've been promoted. I'm now Mr. Crouch's personal assistant. That's why I'm here."
Harry glanced toward Fleur, clearly distracted. "Oh? Why didn't he come?"
"I'm afraid his condition isn't good. You know how it is. Mr. Crouch has been unwell, very unwell. Ever since that incident, he hasn't been himself. Sigh… even though no one actually blamed him for it…"
Tuning out Percy's speech, which sounded as though he'd just been crowned ruler of the universe, something suddenly clicked in Harry's mind.
"…Wait. You said Crouch?!"
"Harry, I understand you're surprised that I climbed to this position so quickly, but you still need to show Mr. Crouch the respect he deserves."
Harry had no interest in Percy's lecture. His surprise had nothing to do with Percy becoming Crouch's personal assistant.
What truly puzzled him was the fact that Crouch himself hadn't been punished for Barty Crouch Jr.'s actions.
In Harry's view, even if Crouch didn't lose his position at the Ministry, he should have at least been subjected to a thorough investigation.
Yet from Percy's tone, it sounded as though the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement hadn't been affected much at all, aside from feeling a bit shaken.
That was very different from what Harry had expected.
Without realizing it, other thoughts began to surface in Harry's mind.
'Does Dumbledore know about this?'
...
Although his eyes rested on the menu in his hands, Draco's attention was entirely on the conversation between Harry Potter and Percy.
Perhaps it was becoming Barty Crouch's personal assistant that had gone to Percy's head. Eager for everyone to know about it, he made no effort at all to lower his voice.
What he didn't realize was that, to everyone else, he looked like a complete fool.
Especially when his gaze kept drifting toward Fleur, his posture practically screaming self-display like a peacock spreading its feathers. It was enough to make Fleur roll her eyes in open disdain.
Compared to Percy's little performance, Draco was far more concerned with the situation on the Ministry's side. That fragile, uneasy balance…
Were they trying to bury the truth, or simply unwilling to provoke the Dark Lord?
After all, no one could be sure whether Barty Crouch Jr. truly lacked any sense of family.
And if he didn't?
Given how favored Barty Crouch Jr. had been, the Dark Lord might very well intervene, unwilling to lose what few loyal followers he had left…
Unlike Harry Potter, whose sense of justice ran strong but who still naively saw the world as strictly black and white, Draco could clearly perceive the political maneuvering between the Ministry, Dumbledore, and the Dark Lord.
For some reason, Draco suddenly thought of that book Hermione had brought back from the Muggle world. It was called On War, if he remembered correctly.
There was a line in it that went something like this:
War always arises under certain political conditions and can only be driven by political motives…
...
Though countless thoughts flashed through Draco's mind in an instant, this clearly wasn't the time to dwell on them.
Once everyone had finished ordering, the dishes they'd chosen appeared on their plates the very next moment.
There were no servers in sight, yet the food appeared instantly before everyone's eyes. Clearly, this more complex, real-time method of serving would significantly increase the workload of the house-elves.
That was probably something only someone as kindhearted as Hermione would even notice…
Just as Draco was about to pick up his fork, a clear, pleasant voice suddenly reached his ears.
"At Beauxbatons, our Great Hall is filled with ice sculptures on Christmas Day. Of course, they don't melt. They shine like enormous diamond statues all across the hall."
Draco paused, startled.
Fleur had suddenly started talking the moment the food arrived.
Though calling it talking to herself wasn't quite accurate, since her gaze kept drifting toward Draco every so often.
"The food is exquisite too. We even have a Wood Nymph Choir. They sing serenades for us while we eat." Noticing Draco looking over, Fleur's cheeks flushed as she grew more animated with each word.
"And we don't have those ugly suits of armor lining our walls. If some prank-loving ghost tried to sneak into Beauxbatons, it would be chased right out, just like this!"
As if to prove her point, Fleur deliberately waved the hand holding her silver fork through the air.
She was completely unaware that her own headmistress was watching from nearby, her expression dark.
Whether Madame Maxime was annoyed because Fleur was blurting out everything about Beauxbatons, or because Fleur was behaving so strangely, was anyone's guess.
Watching Fleur's little "performance" in silence, Draco blinked in mild surprise.
Her clumsy attempts at finding topics to talk about, along with her undeniably cute and awkward mannerisms, all made it clear that something was off about her right now.
At the very least, Fleur in front of Draco wasn't quite the same as she usually was.
At the same time, Pansy and Hermione, who had been keeping a close eye on the situation, immediately noticed what was happening.
They exchanged a silent look.
What exactly is this woman trying to do to Draco!?