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When Lynn strolled back to the Castle and pushed open the Great Hall doors, the interior was already brightly lit and buzzing with noise.
Students from the various schools were currently sitting intermingled around the four House long tables. The Beauxbatons students were the most noticeable; they were mostly clustered together, and their section seemed to have a soft-focus filter, attracting many gazes.
However, Lynn keenly noticed that many students' eyes, especially the boys', constantly and involuntarily drifted toward the Hufflepuff long table, accompanied by hushed whispers.
"What are they looking at?" Lynn muttered to himself, following the converging gazes to his own House's long table. Upon seeing it, he couldn't help but freeze.
The seat he usually occupied was taken.
And it was occupied by two Witches.
One was facing away from him, tall and slender, her graceful curves evident even while seated. She wore a well-fitted traveling cloak. Most conspicuously, her head was tightly wrapped in a thick scarf, not even exposing her ears or the tips of her hair, as if the Castle were colder than the outside.
Lynn almost thought Quirrell had returned to Hogwarts.
Next to her sat the little girl Lynn had seen earlier in the Beauxbatons contingent. She was swinging her legs and looking around curiously.
Lynn's eyes turned questioningly toward Edgar and the other two. "Who is that woman?"
Edgar immediately signaled with his eyes: "Don't know! Not sure! Don't ask me!"
Lynn: ...Fine.
He didn't feel offended; he merely looked at them curiously for a moment longer.
But the Witch seemed unusually sensitive. She almost immediately sensed someone watching her. She turned her head slightly, and her eyes met Lynn's.
Then, in English with a slight accent but an exceptionally pleasant tone, she spoke from behind the scarf. The intonation was a bit stiff, but the wording was polite.
"Excuse me... is there something wrong?"
She seemed to be trying her best to articulate clearly, but words like "ask" and "matter" still carried a noticeable French cadence.
At the Gryffindor long table, Seamus stared at the back of the scarf-wrapped Witch, rubbing his chin and clicking his tongue.
"Just hearing that little bit of her voice... Hey, I'd bet next month's pocket money that she's definitely a beauty! Her voice is like singing!"
Ron Weasley, sitting next to him, disagreed.
"Come on, Seamus, how often do you see a beauty? Hogwarts having Cho Chang is rare enough. Maybe when she takes off that scarf, there's a snaggle-toothed mouth full of freckles underneath!"
He finished by making an exaggerated funny face.
"Care to bet?! One Galleon!" Seamus said excitedly.
Before Ron could finish the word "bet," Harry quickly tugged on his sleeve and whispered a reminder.
"Don't bet, Ron! You don't even have a Galleon! Besides... it's rude to talk about people like that."
Harry looked embarrassed, and his gaze also involuntarily drifted toward the Hufflepuff long table.
Their conversation was clearly heard by some nearby students, including a few from Beauxbatons, who shot them displeased looks.
Facing those beautiful blue eyes and pleasant voice, Lynn fell into a brief (actually, only one second) moment of thought.
Should he politely ask them to move, or directly tell them to leave? Considering they might have taken the seat unintentionally, he chose simple, direct honesty.
He pointed to the seat the Witch was occupying, showing a friendly expression.
"Excuse me, miss... er, madam. That's my seat."
The Witch wrapped in the scarf was visibly startled, realizing she might have taken someone else's spot.
She immediately stood up and quickly reached up to untie the thickly wrapped scarf.
The scarf slipped away, like a mysterious curtain being drawn back. In that instant, it was as if an invisible spotlight had shone upon her.
A cascade of hair fell to her waist. Her features were sculpted and perfect, her skin fair and delicate, and most striking of all were her clear, captivating azure eyes.
The previously bustling Great Hall seemed to have been put on pause.
Many students who had been talking, especially the boys, froze momentarily in both movement and voice, their eyes involuntarily drawn to her.
Ron stared fixedly at Fleur, his previous comments about "snaggle-teeth and freckles" utterly shattered by reality.
"I'm s-sorry," the Witch said, her cheeks slightly flushed with embarrassment. "I thought... no one was sitting here."
Her apology was sincere, and she gave a slight curtsy.
Lynn waved his hand, indicating it was fine.
"Don't worry about it, there are plenty of seats."
The Witch nodded. She took the hand of the little girl who had been looking up at her and Lynn's interaction, whispered something in French (likely: Gabrielle, let's move somewhere else), and then walked toward the other end of the long table.
There, several Hufflepuff girls, already captivated by Fleur's beauty, eagerly shifted to make ample space for them.
Not until Fleur sat down, her profile still attracting many eyes, did the low hum of the Great Hall resume, though the center of conversation had clearly shifted.
Ron stared blankly in Fleur's direction, murmuring, "Merlin... she's so beautiful! She looks like she stepped right out of a painting! Why... why doesn't Gryffindor have Witches that pretty?!"
This thoughtless AOE attack instantly struck all the girls at the Gryffindor long table.
They had originally been admiring or discussing Fleur's beauty, but hearing Ron's comment, they collectively erupted in anger.
Parvati Patil fired first. Glaring at Ron, she retorted mercilessly:
"Ron Weasley! You have the nerve to criticize us Gryffindor girls when your own face is covered in freckles? Look at yourself!"
Angelina, sitting next to her, chimed in angrily:
"Exactly! You can't even speak properly!"
"Right! Bad taste and a rude mouth!" other girls joined in the condemnation.
Ron's face immediately flushed red. He desperately wanted to argue but couldn't think of anything to say, so he looked pleadingly at Harry.
Harry slapped his forehead helplessly and muttered, "I told you not to talk nonsense..."
Just as the Gryffindor long table descended into a minor "civil war," Dumbledore stood up smiling at the High Table.
His booming voice immediately echoed into every corner of the Great Hall, causing all the noise to quickly subside.
"Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, ghosts, and—" His blue eyes happily swept over the Principals and Professors from the other five schools at the staff table, as well as the students below wearing various uniforms, "—especially our esteemed guests who have traveled so far!"
Enthusiastic applause erupted, louder and more sustained than when welcoming a single school.
"It is with the greatest pleasure that I welcome you all to Hogwarts. I hope, and indeed I trust, that you will find your stay here comfortable and enjoyable," Dumbledore continued. "The Triwizard Tournament will officially begin at the conclusion of tonight's feast."
He raised his voice slightly, ensuring everyone heard the crucial sentence.
"Now, let us momentarily forget competition and share food and wine, symbolizing everlasting friendship!"
As his voice faded, the long tables, which were already covered in food, instantly sprouted even more abundant, richer, and more internationally diverse dishes.
The House-elves had clearly pulled out all the stops, not only catering to the tastes of British Wizards but also accommodating the culinary habits of guests from five continents.
Lynn sat down in his seat, his gaze sweeping over the dazzling array of delicacies that had suddenly appeared before him.
Besides traditional Roast Beef, Yorkshire Pudding, Shepherd's Pie, and Scotch Eggs, there were also Escargots, African-style spiced roast chicken, South American tamales, North American New England seafood chowder... and even a large plate of steaming, authentic-looking Peking duck, neatly arranged beside thin pancakes, sweet bean sauce, cucumber strips, and scallions.
Lynn happily picked up a thin pancake. His eating style today was much more restrained than his usual "wild" manner; his movements appeared much more refined.
It wasn't intentional pretense. He just felt that in such an international setting, he should pay a little attention to his image and avoid spreading the reputation of "Hufflepuff Glutton" globally.
He skillfully picked up some duck meat, dipped it in sauce, added scallions and cucumber, wrapped it up, and delivered it to his mouth.
The taste was incredibly authentic—it was wonderful.
Not far away, the silver-haired Witch seemed uninterested in the traditional British food, only nibbling on salad and a dish that looked like fish.
Meanwhile, the little girl next to her, named Gabrielle, watched the glossy, fragrant roast duck in front of Lynn with wide eyes. She looked up at her older sister and asked clearly in French:
"Sister~ didn't you just say you wanted to eat that duck?"
The Witch: ???
When did I say that?
The little girl's voice was clear, and Lynn heard it perfectly.
He paused his chewing and generously pushed the plate of almost untouched roast duck toward the two sisters.
"If you want to try some, don't be shy. Treat this like your own home."
The Witch: "..."
She hadn't expected Lynn to speak French, let alone hear so well. She glanced at the duck pushed toward her, then at her younger sister, who was looking at her eagerly.
"Th-thank you," she murmured.
Perhaps feeling her reply was too brief and dry, she added, "My name is Fleur, Fleur Delacour, and this is my sister, Gabrielle."
Lynn also nodded politely in response, giving his own name.
"Lynn."
After the brief exchange of names, the two didn't speak further. Fleur merely picked up a small slice of duck to taste.
Gabrielle watched her sister eagerly, and after receiving permission, happily tried the dish as well, a look of satisfaction spreading across her face.