What defines a politician? It's soone who can wear a composed, confident smile no matter what chaos is unfolding, even if they're panicking inside.
Clearly, for the Minister for Magic, today's event was nothing more than a routine public appearance. After a brief mont of hesitation, he quickly plastered on a textbook politician's smile.
Clap, clap, clap!
Cornelius Fudge began to applaud enthusiastically, yet to his embarrassnt, his staff failed to follow his lead. For a few seconds, the only sound on the main stand was his awkward clapping.
Fortunately, the roar of excited students around them helped cover up the montary awkwardness.
A few quick-thinking Ministry officials eventually caught on and began to applaud as well, gradually restoring a sense of harmony to the scene.
"Marvelous, " Fudge's crisp voice rang out once the applause quieted. He turned toward Dumbledore.
"Albus, if you don't mind… may I say a few words?"
Dumbledore answered with action rather than words. He stepped forward onto the platform in front of the stands.
The mont he moved, the young witches and wizards in the audience erupted with cheers, so even waved their wands and launched a few fireworks in celebration.
Naturally, this dangerous behavior was swiftly shut down by the watchful professors nearby.
With a single raised hand, Dumbledore signaled for quiet, and the excited students instantly settled down, waiting for their beloved headmaster to speak.
But instead of delivering a speech, Dumbledore rely stepped aside, making way for Fudge, whose face looked more strained than pleased.
"I'm delighted to witness such a spectacular match today!" Fudge's magically amplified voice echoed across the field.
"Pfft, no wonder my mum says Fudge only ever spouts fluff. The match barely lasted five minutes," whispered the Hufflepuff student who had earlier pointed Fudge out to Allen.
"Of course, we must give our thanks to the two teams who delivered this thrilling ga, both played brilliantly!"
••┈┈┈┈┈༓┈┈┈┈┈•••
After a long string of formalities and hollow praise, the Minister finally got to the point.
"The Ministry of Magic will fully sponsor the winning team's travel expenses for an upcoming exchange event, and we look forward to seeing even more impressive performances from them."
More impressive performances?
Allen's expression changed. He suddenly grasped the real purpose behind all of this.
What kind of "impressive performance" could a Quidditch team deliver?
Naturally, it ant another match. There was no way the Ministry would be sending them out to help the Auror Office!
And as for their opponent? That much was obvious.
It would be the team from Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Arica's most prestigious magical academy.
Everything suddenly made sense.
The rushed tournant format. The abrupt schedule.
All of it was just a ans to quickly select a team to send abroad.
Allen couldn't help but feel skeptical about this so-called exchange event.
If they were already scrambling to finalize a Quidditch team like this, what hope was there for the rest of the "exchange" to be genuine?
Even last ti, when the two schools held a joint program, tensions ran high from day one.
Now, with Quidditch already so fiercely competitive, would the rest of the exchange go smoothly? Not likely.
And then ca Dumbledore's announcent of the student exchange list, which only confird Allen's suspicions.
Most of the nas were from sixth and seventh year.
Fifth years, burdened with their O.W.L. exams were almost completely excluded.
This wasn't a list of students chosen for cultural exchange, it was a battle roster.
There were barely any underclassn at all.
Then ca the list of accompanying professors.
Professor McGonagall. Professor Snape. Professor Sprout.
Aside from Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, Hogwarts' two best healers were already on the team.
No one would question that both the Herbology and Potions professors knew a thing or two about healing magic.
So, this exchange?
It looked more like a carefully packaged confrontation.
••┈┈┈┈┈༓┈┈┈┈┈•••
After the announcent, Allen's first instinct wasn't to celebrate with his friends.
Instead, he bolted straight to the library.
Who are they kidding? If Ilvermorny were pushovers, there's no way the Ministry would be throwing this much money into a full-team overseas trip.
The signs were clear: If they're strong in Quidditch, odds are they're strong across the board.
If Allen didn't do so research now, was he supposed to just show up and get stomped on by a team he knew nothing about?
That kind of "voluntary humiliation" wasn't the story he wanted to be part of.
Nope, Allen was more interested in thrashing the weak.
And he clearly wasn't the only one thinking that way.
Madam Pince, the strict librarian, was visibly startled by the crowd of students that burst through her doors in a hurry.
But once she understood what they were after, she pointed sternly to a full bookshelf.
"Everything you need is over there. Dumbledore himself asked to set those aside. But let make this clear, if anyone dares wrinkle a single page, you know what you're in for!"
Despite the rush, Madam Pince's preparations were ticulous. Everyone managed to borrow enough materials.
After so ti reading, Allen's expression grew increasingly serious.
Ilvermorny was far more impressive than he'd imagined.
His eyes locked onto a key phrase, "Heir of Slytherin."
Yes, one of Ilvermorny's founders was a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin.
Even though the books didn't go into much detail about Slytherin himself, that one fact said enough.
Salazar Slytherin, the actual owner of Hogwarts Castle.
He personally remodeled the entire place, hiding countless magical secrets still undiscovered.
So imagine what kind of power and legacy was passed down to a school founded by his bloodline?
As the saying goes,
"When weak, we cooperate. When strong, it's always been our land..."
Wait, no, "Friendship first, competition second."
Right.
Hugging a thick stack of borrowed books, Allen hurried back to his common room.
After all, it was his team that would be heading out.
He had to make sure they took this seriously, and help them study up!
But the mont he stepped into the lounge, Allen was stunned.
The celebration going on inside was way beyond what he'd expected.
Their Quidditch captain rushed over to him, grinning.
"Allen! Your training suggestions really worked! And get this, after hearing about how we practiced, the Minister was thrilled!"
"You won't believe it, even our reserve team got fully funded! Everyone gets to go!"
"And the Ministry promised brand new broomsticks and uniforms for all of us!"
Allen stood frozen.
Sure, that sounded amazing…
But it was way over the top.
So he had to wonder,
What exactly are they planning?
==========
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