Although Rita Skeeter had looked quite unhappy when she left, Wade didn't pay much attention to the anger she showed.
As a fellow Ravenclaw, he knew very well that when an eagle truly got angry, it wouldn't roar and shout like a Gryffindor—remaining silent was the real way they went about big moves.
Flipping through the parchment in his hand, he found that it contained a series of recent incidents related to dark magic.
However, as Britain was currently in a special period, the Ministry of Magic was strictly controlling all news that "might cause needless public panic," so most of these events had never been reported.
If it weren't for the fact that Glenavon Forest was so close, that rapidly aging woman might never have entered the public eye either.
From the intelligence Skeeter had provided, it seemed that unusual incidents were occurring all over the world.
For example, in Japan, in a trading hub similar to Diagon Alley, a large number of dangerous dark magic items suddenly appeared, with some even flowing into the Muggle world, causing several horrifying incidents.
In Brazil, a few recent graduates on a celebratory trip discovered a grotesque, misshapen creature pieced together from animal corpses. The local Ministry later forcibly claimed it was "a black bear that had hung the skins and fur of other animals on itself as decoration."
In Bulgaria, a group of dark wizards held a gathering during which two innocent Muggles were killed.
In the United States, they captured a deranged dark wizard who was attempting to "create obedient Dementors" again.
In Egypt, the Ministry rescued two Veela who were illegally trafficked, and during the process uncovered a case in which a high-ranking Ministry official tried to steal from the Department of Mysteries.
While the British Ministry was busy preparing for the Tournament, dark magic activity was flaring up all over the world—dark wizards were like gophers: once you caught one wave, another would pop up almost immediately.
Wade was pondering the reason for this phenomenon when he suddenly heard the sound of the classroom door handle turning.
He quickly stuffed the parchment into his bag, and had just stood up when Professor Flitwick pushed open the door and smiled warmly at him.
"Wade, why are you still here? If you don't head to the Great Hall soon, you'll miss dinner."
"That's alright, I can always go to the kitchens," Wade replied with a smile. "The house-elves are always happy to serve any guest."
"Haha, you kids never take long to dig up all the school's secrets," Flitwick chuckled, showing no sign of criticizing Wade for the technically rule-breaking remark.
Standing in the doorway, he waved Wade over, and once Wade was beside him, the professor said kindly:
"I know you like spending time alone, but lately you should be careful—some people will stop at nothing to win, and they have no qualms about the big picking on the small."
"Don't worry, Professor," Wade said. "I can take care of myself."
"That's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about, Wade… Today they inspected your wand, didn't they?"
As they walked, Flitwick couldn't help but bounce a little, as if in high spirits.
"Assessing and misleading your opponents is a very important tactic. Since they've now misunderstood your abilities, you might as well play along with their expectations—act… a bit more ordinary."
Wade nodded lightly. "I understand… conceal my edge, lower the risk of being targeted."
"Exactly." Flitwick lowered his voice.
"Not just in everyday activities—even in the first two tasks, if possible, it's best to hold back a little. If your goal is the championship, then in the early stages, as long as you're not eliminated, that's already a victory."
Wade said seriously, "I'll remember that, Professor."
Professor Flitwick still seemed worried that his youthful pride might drive him to reveal his full strength too early in order to prove himself—making him a prime target for everyone else during the competition.
But Wade carried no such burden. In fact, he preferred it when others were completely off guard around him.
At times like this, Wade couldn't help but envy Cedric—Hufflepuffs enjoyed a natural level of trust throughout the wizarding world. All Cedric had to do was wrap a yellow-and-black scarf around his neck, and most people would automatically assume he was an honest, decent man.
But Ravenclaw?
People always trusted Ravenclaws' intellect, yet somehow still questioned their morals.
At Hogwarts, if Slytherin didn't firmly monopolize the school's hatred, Ravenclaw would have a hard time getting along with either Gryffindor or Hufflepuff.
…
Wade suspected that Professor Flitwick was quite pleased to see him bringing honor to the House, and had been treating him better and better lately.
Of course, not that Flitwick had treated him poorly before—but previously the professor had looked at him as a prized student; lately, it felt more like the affectionate gaze one reserved for a most beloved youngest son.
After being gifted yet another bag of expensive chocolate sweets from Flitwick, Wade could only smile helplessly. He had the feeling that if he accidentally failed to win the championship trophy in the end, Flitwick might actually cry.
Still, Wade found it a bit strange, because his Head of House had never been the sort to care much about such honors.
It seemed the allure of an inter-school magic tournament was even greater than he had imagined.
During the preparation period for the tournament, Wade occasionally met up in the library with Natalia and other alchemy enthusiasts to discuss long, abstruse theories—swapping dense, dictionary-sized alchemical texts that were duller than dull.
Meanwhile, Rita Skeeter's coverage of the tournament was published. The three Hogwarts champions only occupied a small portion of space, while most of the front page was taken up by a large solo photograph of Fleur Delacour.
Clearly, Rita had grasped the formula for attracting attention—when there's no explosive news, a breathtaking beauty could be a powerful focal point all on her own.
It was easy to imagine that this edition of The Daily Prophet would sell extremely well—perhaps even with some people buying multiple copies: one to read, one to collect, and one to show off.
During the wand inspection, Fleur had mentioned that her grandmother was a Veela, and that her wand core contained a hair from that very Veela.
Whoever Rita's sources were, she managed to produce yet another piece for page two—this time a touching, dramatic love story about Fleur's grandparents, complete with an actual photograph of the couple.
Soon, the whole school was abuzz with discussions about "unions between humans and magical beings,""how human appearance ranks in a Veela's eyes," and "how one might earn a Veela's favor."
—Even though Veela had once attacked the camp, most people conveniently forgot that fact, displaying a remarkable degree of selective tolerance.
People simply avoided talking about these things in front of Fleur herself, to avoid offending her. Still, even without such topics, that beautiful girl was in a foul mood most of the time.
Two weeks seemed to fly by in the blink of an eye, and before long, the first task was about to begin.
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