Chapter 507: Are You Sure You're a Hufflepuff?
Chapter 507: Are You Sure You're a Hufflepuff?
Ollivander stepped into the clearing and eyed the trio before him. "Miss Drakul, if you please?" he requested, his curiosity piqued by the unique wand amongst the group.
With a graceful stride, Fuhong approached and proffered her wand.
Ollivander's eyes narrowed as he examined it closely. "Nine and a half inches... Maple wood... And the core, ah, veela hair."
"It's my grandmother's hair," Furong explained.
"I see," Ollivander murmured. "While veela hair wands tend to be temperamental, if you find it suits you..."
He gave the wand a flourish. "Orchid Bloom!"
Instantly, a bouquet of flowers blossomed at the wand's tip.
"Excellent, excellent, it's in fine form," Ollivander praised, returning the flowers and wand to Fleurong.
"Now, Mr. Krum, your turn."
Krum rose and lethargically handed over his wand. However, Ollivander's enthusiasm had waned compared to before.
"Hmm... A Gregorovich creation," he remarked. "Elder wood... Dragon heartstring... Fourteen and a quarter inches... Aviary!"
With a loud bang, a flock of tiny birds appeared.
"Well done," Ollivander said, returning the wand to Krum. "And now, we come to the last one..."
Kyle stepped forward.
"Ah, one of my own, if I'm not mistaken," Ollivander said excitedly.
If his previous examinations were driven by curiosity and duty, he was now genuinely thrilled. Having one of his wands participate in the Triwizard Tournament was an honor. It would have been embarrassing if only Gregorovich's creations were represented and none of his own.
"Yes, I remember it clearly..." Ollivander trailed off, lost in recollection. "I discovered an exceptionally tall cedar tree in the heart of the Black Forest. It took several days of negotiation with those tree-hugging gnomes to obtain a branch... And the phoenix feather..."
Ollivander regaled them with the story of the wand's origin, taking even longer than he had with the previous two wands combined.
Five minutes later...
"Glow Softly."
A soft white light emanated from the wand, and only then did Ollivander return it to Kyle.
"Thank you, everyone!" Dumbledore stood up from the judges' table. "You may now return to your classes... Or you might find it more convenient to head straight to the Great Hall for lunch, as your next class will be ending soon anyway."
After taking victory photos and a few solo shots, they finally left the room.
The judges headed upstairs to the Headmaster's office, while Kyle and Fleur prepared to descend to the Great Hall for lunch.
However, as Kyle reached the staircase, a hand, resembling a claw, suddenly gripped his arm.
"What do you want, Ms. Skeeter?" Kyle frowned.
"Just a few little questions, dear... For the Daily Prophet," Rita Skeeter replied, her face contorted into an obvious fake smile.
"I believe I made it clear that I refuse your interviews," Kyle stated.
But Rita Skeeter didn't let go. Instead, she seemed even more excited.
Her crocodile-skin handbag was already open, and inside, a flashy quill was scribbling rapidly on a roll of parchment.
"The young and handsome champion has found his true love at Hogwarts. He is utterly captivated by the stunning beauty of Camellia Drakul and desires to be by her side every moment..."
"Ignore the quill, Kyle," Rita Skeeter said. "Can you tell me why you decided to enter the tournament?"
"Let's go, Kyle. Don't pay her any mind," Lotus urged.
"No, I've changed my mind," Kyle smiled. "I've decided to grant Ms. Skeeter an interview."
The quick-quotes quill in her bag twitched again.
"He yearns to boost his fame, and not even the Order of Merlin could sate his ambition. To gain more notoriety, he's willing to forgo dates with Miss Hibiscus..."
Kyle took a deep breath. Thankfully, due to their positions, Furong couldn't see the words on the parchment.
After exchanging a few words with Furon, Kyle stepped into an empty classroom nearby
"Oh?" Rita asked curiously, "Is it because you were chosen?"
"No," Kyle appraised her, "It's because you showed up. You've provided me with the perfect excuse."
"Excuse? What do you mean?" Rita felt a bit lost, a rare occurrence in her career.
"Of course, an excuse for failure," Kyle yawned lazily and smiled. "I've read your articles... to be honest, calling them garbage would be a compliment."
"You..."
"Hold on, Miss Skeeter, let me finish."
Kyle waved his hand, ignoring the frantically scribbling quick-quotes quill, and continued, "But there's a silver lining... Because if I perform poorly, I can tell everyone that it was your article that disturbed my peace of mind and caused me to lose focus during the tournament.
That way, no one will blame me, don't you think I'm lucky?"
As he finished, Kyle chuckled softly.
Rita Skeeter forced a smile, "You won't... You're a member of the Order of Merlin..."
"Yes, I will," Kyle asserted, "As you pointed out, I'm only fifteen, the youngest among the champions. It's extremely difficult for me to win.
But I don't want to bear the brunt of failure and the ensuing criticism. This is the only way to preserve my reputation, isn't it?"
The smile on Rita Skeeter's face gradually faded.
"They won't believe you," she said.
"No, you're wrong, they will," Kyle shook his finger, "It's an age issue again... I'm three years younger than Furong and Krum, naturally at a disadvantage. Even if I fail, people can't fault me that much.
But after several centuries, this is the first time the Triwizard Tournament has been restarted, and Hogwarts is about to suffer a crushing defeat on its own turf. People will need an outlet for their frustration."
Rita Skeeter clutched her handbag tightly, and the quick-quotes quill finally stopped moving.
"So, I've prepared a scapegoat for them... Oh, that would be you, Miss Skeeter."
Without so much as a glance at her, Kyle went on, "No one will care about the specifics of why I failed or whether it had anything to do with your article. They just need a punching bag.
And you, my dear, are the perfect candidate."
Kyle stood up and bowed slightly, "My sincere thanks to you!"
Rita Skeeter's face turned ashen, as if water would drip from it.
As someone renowned for stirring up trouble, she knew better than anyone else... No one cared about the truth; they only cared about what interested them.
The blame for the failure of the Triwizard Tournament was a heavy burden... If Kyle did as he said, she would most likely be ruined.
Rita Skeeter breathed heavily, her chest heaving.
When she had come to interview Kyle, she had learned about him—a Hufflepuff, well-regarded, and in the professors' eyes, a model student.
Her definition of Kyle had been that of a Dumbledore-like student.
Now, seeing the smile on Kyle's face, Rita Skeeter realized how terribly wrong she had been.
"Are you sure you're a Hufflepuff?" she asked dryly.
"The real deal," Kyle confirmed as he rose to open the classroom door.
"Oh, and one more thing," he turned back, "After the Triwizard Tournament is over, I'll compensate you. How does one hundred galleons sound?"
"Aren't you worried that I won't publish this article?" Rita Skeeter asked.
"I don't think you'll hold back," Kyle said, "You're known for standing up to authority. How could you possibly give up on publishing an article just because of a few words from me? That's not the fearless Miss Skeeter I know."
With that, Kyle turned and left without another glance.
Rita Skeeter stood there, her face contorting with various emotions.
She felt a sense of relief.
Although her assessment of Kyle had been wrong, thankfully, he had made the same mistake about her.
Rita Skeeter picked up the scroll of parchment filled with words and tore it to shreds, a sarcastic smile playing on her lips.
"We'll see about that... You shouldn't have told me all this."
(End of Chapter)
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