For example—sothing along the lines of "If my lord doesn't mind, Fleur is willing to serve under you."
But unfortunately, Kasenhis simply didn't possess that kind of commanding charisma…
"Maybe this—once Hogwarts' champion is chosen, we could help you… negotiate with him about, say, fixing the match?" Cedric suddenly suggested.
"You all have that much influence?" Fleur asked in surprise.
"It's just a trophy," Cedric shrugged.
"If you can really do that, then I think I might be willing to help you," Fleur said, blinking playfully before turning to walk away.
"Uh… actually, you could just take a boat," Kasenhis called after her.
"Huh? How?"
"Hagrid, give her a demonstration," Kasenhis said, patting Hagrid on the back.
"Oh—right this way, lovely lady." Hagrid's face split into a huge grin. It was clear that his infatuation with the distant Madam Maxi had already reached the point where even Fleur was basking in the overflow of his goodwill.
Still, maybe it was because Fleur held so useful information that could help him.
Well, what could he say—Hagrid might be a simple guy, but he definitely had a few tricks up his sleeve.
Before long, the office was back to just two people. Watching Hagrid's retreating figure, Kasenhis wore a look of pure suffering, then turned to Cedric.
"What do you think?"
"If I end up being chosen as a champion, I'll help Hagrid. Of course, if soone else gets picked, then… there's not much I can do," Cedric said with a smile.
"You're still too selfless. That won't do! I've got to co up with another plan—I can't just let you take all the loss, or else what was the point of coming to for extra lessons?" Kasenhis clicked his tongue and muttered from the sofa.
"I don't really know how to explain it, but… if I were the champion and had to choose between the trophy and Professor Hagrid's happiness, I'd probably choose the latter," Cedric said earnestly.
"Alright, alright, get out of here and finish building your skeleton fra." Kasenhis waved him off, then stomped his way toward the Headmaster's office.
After all, Fleur wasn't the only one who knew Madam Maxi's preferences—Dumbledore, that old ddler of the magical world, probably knew plenty too.
Before long, Dumbledore's office received an uninvited guest. Kasenhis approached with a grin, watching the Headmaster calmly sipping his milk tea.
"...What is it?" Dumbledore asked calmly, subtly pulling his milk tea closer to his chest.
"Madam Maxi. You know her well, right?" Kasenhis asked.
Dumbledore nodded. "One of the most skilled witches in the French wizarding world. Not quite on Nicolas Flal's level, but he's not part of this discussion… What about her?"
"It's kind of awkward to say… but Hagrid's in trouble. He's fallen in love."
"Oh… you're asking about Madam Maxi's preferences, then?" Dumbledore looked at Kasenhis suspiciously.
"Do you have any advice?"
"Madam Maxi is, how should I put it… soone who values honor deeply. You could say she's a Beauxbatons supremacist. Hagrid can earn her favor by helping Beauxbatons—or, to put it more plainly, by making himself useful, showing that he can contribute to Beauxbatons in so aningful way."
Dumbledore had fully entered his "love guru" mode, almost ready to drag over a blackboard and start a lecture.
"What could Hagrid possibly offer Madam Maxi... his ability to care for magical creatures?"
"That depends on Hagrid himself. Or perhaps he could take another approach—let Madam Maxi see his sincerity. She isn't so political or professional machine; she's also soone who appreciates the joys of life. You should tell Hagrid to be bold and ask her out." Dumbledore said, continuing his calm yet utterly serious advice.
"Alright, I'll give it a try."
"And don't forget to co to the Great Hall tonight," Dumbledore reminded him. "The Goblet of Fire will be selecting the three school champions. We'll all need to attend."
"I won't forget." Kasenhis nodded, then returned to his office.
By that ti, Cedric had nearly finished constructing his enhanced skeleton fra—complete with alchemical rails and redstone control systems.
"Done?" Kasenhis walked over, inspected the fra, and nodded approvingly. "Not bad."
"All thanks to your teaching, Professor," Cedric said, scratching his head.
"Alright then, lie down and hit yourself with a Stupefy. I'll handle the surgery myself."
"Huh? Professor, are you sure you can—?"
"Of course, unless you'd rather do it with an anvil."
"Stupefy!"
Kasenhis looked at the freshly modified, elegant-looking Cedric and smiled in satisfaction. Then, two chanical arms slowly unfolded behind him.
…
Cedric woke up groggily, only to see Kasenhis's face leaning close—followed by a sentence that nearly made his soul leave his body.
"You're awake! Congratulations, I might've slipped a bit while cutting. From now on, you can only be Cho Chang's sister."
"Huh?!" Cedric's mouth fell open wide, pure terror spreading across his face as he instinctively looked down along his body's centerline…
"Phew… Professor, that kind of joke is really terrifying," he said with a sigh of relief.
"Pfft~ It's just a joke. Co on, get up and get dressed. The Goblet of Fire will announce the champions soon." Kasenhis pulled Cedric up by the arm. "How do you feel?"
"My movents feel… a bit too light," Cedric replied.
"That's because now, not only your muscles but even your bones contribute to your movent. Of course it feels lighter," Kasenhis said, tossing Cedric's clothes toward him.
Before long, the two of them arrived at Hogwarts' Great Hall.
The setup was still the sa as always—except for the professors' seating arrangent, which had changed again.
Kasenhis and Grindelwald sat to Dumbledore's left and right respectively, leaving poor Karkaroff looking utterly lost, not knowing where to sit.
Dumbledore was already standing beside the Goblet of Fire, waiting.
What happened next… well, to be fair, that Fleur Delacour really did have so talent for prophecy—or maybe it was just plain deduction.
And Cedric's confidence hadn't been misplaced either.
As the three champions were all confird, Kasenhis picked up his knife and fork, ready to dig into his al.
Then, at that very mont—another slip of parchnt suddenly shot out of the Goblet.
_________
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