Harry Potter: Westeros’s Plant Life 0292 The Feast

As the initial excitent of the arrivals began to settle into a more comfortable buzz of conversation, Adrian found himself processing what he had witnessed. The pieces of a puzzle that had been nagging at him suddenly clicked into place.

He suddenly rembered a conversation from several months ago—the employee at the magical creatures shop had ntioned, with frustration, that their boss was traveling through France and had specifically ntioned Beauxbatons.

At the ti, Adrian had assud it was rely casual conversation, perhaps even a bit of workplace overstatent born from irritation.

It seed this hadn't been a joke or complaint after all, but simple fact delivered with the bitter honesty of soone left to manage an entire business alone.

However, now that the mystery was solved, Adrian couldn't help but shake his head in mild disapproval. Leaving one's employee behind for months was hardly the behavior expected of a responsible business owner.

The last ti he had visited the magical creatures shop in Diagon Alley, that young woman's resentnt had been practically radiating from her like heat from a forge.

After the delegations had been properly welcod and the excitent of the arrivals had reached its natural crescendo, Dumbledore stepped forward. His voice, amplified by magic, resounded across the crowd.

"Now then," He announced with obvious pleasure, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles, "I believe it's ti we all proceeded to the Great Hall for a feast worthy of this historic occasion!"

Hogwarts didn't have excessive formalities, so students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang freely chose whichever House table they preferred for dinner.

For instance, Krum from Durmstrang went to the Slytherin table, while the Beauxbatons students mixed in among the Ravenclaws.

The two headmasters sat on either side of Dumbledore, while Ruskin naturally took a seat beside Adrian.

Adrian couldn't help but notice, however, that even after everyone had been seated and served, there remained two conspicuously empty places at the staff table.

He suspected these seats were reserved for Ludo Bagman from the Departnt of Magical Gas and Sports, and Barty Crouch Senior from the Departnt of International Magical Cooperation, the two Ministry officials who were serving as the primary organizers of this revived tournant.

"You seem quite surprised by my arrival here tonight?" Ruskin observed, settling into her chair with obvious satisfaction.

Her voice carried had a tone of pleasure that cos from successfully surprising soone, and her eyes held a mischievous glint that Adrian recognized from their previous encounters.

"Ah, yes," Adrian replied with a slight shrug. "Sowhat unexpected, certainly, though not entirely shocking given what I'd heard. Your employee ntioned that you'd been traveling in France and at Beauxbatons Academy. She said that apart from the occasional letter which apparently beca increasingly infrequent, you hadn't been managing the shop for the better part of several months."

He paused, observing her expression. "Um, I'd advise you to make so effort to appease your employee's feelings when you return. The last ti I visited, she seed quite... well, 'furious' might not be too strong a word."

Upon hearing this assessnt of her business affairs, Ruskin waved one hand dismissively, as if brushing away an insignificant concern. Her tone remained light and unconcerned.

"It's perfectly fine," She said with breezy confidence. "I sent her a large raise along with my last letter."

Adrian nodded approvingly—indeed, in his experience, Galleons could resolve most workplace disputes with remarkable efficiency.

Money might not buy happiness, but it could certainly purchase tolerance and continued employnt.

However, Ruskin's casual attitude toward her shop didn't entirely surprise him. She had always been as soone who focused intensely on her areas of expertise like magical beasts while paying minimal attention to matters she considered beneath her interest.

Their conversation, conducted in voices perhaps not quite as quiet as they had intended, inevitably drew the attention of others at the staff table.

Mada Maxi turned toward them with curiosity.

"You know each other already?" She inquired, raising one eyebrow. Her English carried the musical accent of her native French.

"Yes, Mada," Ruskin replied imdiately, flashing a bright smile. "We're old friends."

Mada Maxi nodded gracefully, her expression showed polite interest without pressing for details that might intrude on privacy.

Their exchange had also caught the attention of Dumbledore. He turned toward them.

"And this is...?" He inquired, while his eyes studied Ruskin with interest. Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on novel·fire·net

Mada Maxi set down her goblet, clearly preparing to provide a proper introduction.

"A magical creatures specialist whom Beauxbatons specifically hired for this journey," She explained. "You understand, I'm sure, that our precious Abraxans are currently in their breeding season and require the most specialized care available."

She turned toward Ruskin, her expression softening with what appeared to be appreciation. "Professor Ruskin Hill possesses extraordinary expertise in magical creature breeding and care. Quite frankly, she is the only person I would trust to properly tend to the Abraxans during such a delicate ti in their reproductive cycle."

Ruskin straightened in her chair at this praise, her posture radiating pride and professional satisfaction. The recognition of her expertise by the Headmistress clearly ant a great deal to her, and she seed to bask in the acknowledgnt like a cat in sunlight.

"Ah, then she must indeed be an excellent young person," Dumbledore replied with a slight smile. "Welco to Hogwarts, Professor Hill. I hope you'll find our facilities adequate for your needs."

'Young person...'

Adrian found himself observing Ruskin with new curiosity as Dumbledore's words registered. She wore the sa light blue uniform as the Beauxbatons students. Her black hair fell over her shoulders, catching the light from the floating candles above. Her face showed no lines or other obvious signs of aging and her skin seed well-maintained.

She certainly fit Dumbledore's casual description of a "young person" from a purely visual perspective.

But Adrian's experience with the magical world had taught him that a wizard's age could rarely be determined from physical appearance alone. This was particularly true when it ca to older witches, who seed to do anything to remain and appear young.

"Forgive my boldness," Adrian said, leaning closer and lowering his voice, "but how old are you, exactly?"

"Since you yourself acknowledge that the question is bold," Ruskin replied curtly, "then perhaps you shouldn't ask so many intrusive questions."

"Oh, alright then," Adrian said hastily.

He imdiately backed away from the topic, realizing that despite their friendship and the casual nature of their previous interactions, this question did indeed touch on Ruskin's private affairs.

'Ruskin seed sowhat sensitive about her age.

Could it be... that her actual age far exceeded what her appearance suggested?'

Adrian couldn't help wondering.

anwhile, Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch finally arrived at the dining table, both n showing the slightly stressed appearance of folks who had been dealing with last-minute organizational crises.

The feast that followed was truly spectacular, even by Hogwarts' already usual standards. The house-elves had clearly been preparing for days to prepare for this occasion, and their efforts showed in every dish that appeared on the tables.

The variety was staggering: traditional British cuisine sat alongside French delicacies and what Adrian assud were Northern European specialties to honor the Durmstrang delegation.

The aromas that filled the Great Hall created a complex masterpiece of scents that spoke of herbs and spices from across the magical world.

However, not every dish was equally appealing to every diner.

Adrian found himself staring dubiously at the sardine pie that had appeared on his plate.

The creation was undoubtedly a culinary masterpiece from a technical standpoint, but the fish heads protruding from the golden pastry crust gazed up with glassy, lifeless eyes that seed to be contemplating the enchanted ceiling above. Their empty stare was particularly unsettling.

With a slight grimace, Adrian carefully slid the plate toward Ruskin, hoping she might find it more appetizing than he did.

Without hesitation, Ruskin pushed it firmly back in his direction.

"I don't like fish," she said with a sweet smile. "Especially when they're looking at ."

"Fair enough," Adrian sighed, resigning himself to his fate as he looked at the pie with determination. "I suppose I'll have to deal with this myself."

Just as Adrian was considering the best strategy for consuming fish pie with minimal eye contact, their dinner was interrupted by the arrival of a Beauxbatons student who approached their section of the staff table with urgency.

The student was wrapped almost completely in heavy black veils that seed excessive given the warm atmosphere of the Great Hall.

Even in the comfortable temperature maintained by the castle's magical heating systems, this person was bundled as if preparing for a journey through arctic conditions.

Only a pair of eyes were visible through the layers of fabric, eyes that glead with an unusual silvery light.

"Professor Hill," the veiled student said, addressing Ruskin with the formal respect. Her voice was muffled by the layers of cloth but carried clear tone of concern. "It's ti for the evening feeding of the Abraxans. I'm afraid Hogwarts' gakeeper... he probably can't handle them."

"Don't worry, miss," Adrian couldn't help interjecting upon hearing this, feeling compelled to defend Hagrid. "Hagrid is remarkably capable with all manner of magical creatures. I'm certain he'll handle everything properly and safely."

"But Professor—" the veiled student began, clearly prepared to explain on her concerns.

Ruskin cut her off with a gentle gesture.

"It's perfectly fine," she said with casual assurance. "Feeding Abraxans isn't nearly as complicated as people often assu. They're magnificent creatures, but not particularly picky eaters."

She paused, then addressed the student. "Fleur, how much longer are you planning to keep yourself wrapped up in those veils? Please remove them—it's rather impolite to conduct conversations when people can't see your face properly."

The girl called Fleur hesitated for a mont, her silvery eyes visible through the cloth showing what appeared to be uncertainty or perhaps mild anxiety. Then, with a gesture that showed her resigned acceptance, she began to unwrap the black veils that had concealed her face.

A beautiful face was revealed with silver hair, and she looked stunningly beautiful.

Adrian imdiately understood why she had been concealing herself beneath the heavy cover. This wasn't rely exceptional human beauty—this was sothing else entirely.

Adrian imdiately understood why she had been wearing the veil—this was a Veela.

Or rather, soone with half-Veela blood... no, less than half.

While Adrian was still considering the exact proportion of her heritage, Fleur perford an elegant curtsy that embodied the refined manners of Beauxbatons Academy.

"Good evening, Professor Westeros," She said softly. "Professor Hill has ntioned you to in our conversations."

Her English was excellent, though it carried the sa French accent as her headmistress.

"This is Fleur Delacour," Ruskin provided by way of formal introduction, though Adrian caught a hint of mischief flickering in her eyes as she spoke. "She's widely regarded as one of Beauxbatons Academy's most outstanding students."

"A pleasure to et you," Adrian replied, inclining his head respectfully.

Then, unable to contain his curiosity entirely, he leaned slightly toward Ruskin and asked softly, "This young woman... she has Veela heritage, doesn't she?"

Before Ruskin could respond to his question, Fleur herself answered with refreshing directness.

"Yes, Professor," She confird openly, her silvery eyes eting his with steady confidence. "I have one-quarter Veela ancestry."

"That explains the sense of... presence you carry," Adrian said with genuine appreciation. "Though I should add that even setting aside the Veela inheritance, you're exceptionally beautiful, Miss Delacour."

His complint was sincere rather than flattering as he had t individuals with Veela blood before, and while the magical influence was undeniable, it couldn't create beauty where none existed naturally.

In Fleur's case, the Veela traits seed to amplify and refine her already excellent facial features overshadow or replace them.

"Thank you very much," Fleur replied, and for the first ti since removing her veils, she smiled with genuine warmth rather than polite formality.

The expression transford her face from just beautiful to absolutely radiant. Though she was accustod to receiving complints about her appearance, as such praise was undoubtedly a regular occurrence in her life, she seed to genuinely appreciate the thoughtful way Adrian had acknowledged both her heritage and her individual qualities.

It was, Adrian thought, probably refreshing for her to et soone who could discuss her Veela ancestry as simply another interesting aspect of her background rather than as sothing either to be feared or fetishized.

In a world where many people either reacted with suspicion toward those with creature heritage or beca stupidly infatuated by Veela influence, a straightforward, respectful acknowledgnt was likely a rare and welco experience.

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