Kasenhis leaned back in his chair. By now, no one in the hall was still standing—the students from both visiting schools had taken their seats, along with their respective headmasters.
It was worth noting that Karkaroff was originally supposed to sit to Dumbledore's left, right next to Kasenhis. But, for whatever reason—perhaps recalling some rather unpleasant memories—he quietly swapped seats with Madam Maxime.
At this point, three empty seats still remained at the professors' table.
"Severus? Whose seats are those supposed to be?" Kasenhis asked in a low voice.
"Most likely someone from the Ministry," Snape murmured back. "And another one looks to be for the dragon reserve. Since you stirred up quite the commotion in Italy during the holidays, Beauxbatons got wind of Hogwarts' plan to invite a dragon reserve for the Tournament. They probably guessed there's a connection between the reserve and the Triwizard Tournament, so Dumbledore extended an invitation to the director."
"The Romanian reserve… might be a problem," Kasenhis said quietly.
"Hm?"
"Might be one of your former colleagues," Kasenhis replied, briefly grasping Snape's wrist before letting go. Then he gave a quick summary of the incident when he and Sirius went to capture Lupin—and ran into Neos.
"Let's just hope he's only deadpan, not dead inside," Snape said tersely.
"Yeah," Kasenhis nodded.
Soon after, the Ministry's representative arrived—but it turned out to be just one person: Ludo Bagman.
As for the other Ministry official and Neos, there was still no sign of either of them.
"Those two sure know how to make an entrance," Kasenhis quipped.
"They're from the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Probably in the Forbidden Forest right now, greeting the Romanian wizards," Snape murmured back.
"Mm-hmm…" Kasenhis nodded, remaining seated as he waited for the two latecomers to finally show up. Before long, the pair he'd been waiting for pushed open the doors to the Great Hall and walked in.
"The two-meter-tall muscle giant over there—that's the Death Eater suspect you mentioned?" Snape asked under his breath.
"Pretty obvious, huh? You know him?"
"Never seen him."
"A pleasure to finally meet you in person, Headmaster Dumbledore," Neos said as he took the seat beside Hagrid.
"Yes, until now our meetings have only been through letters," Dumbledore replied with a genial smile, raising his glass toward Neos.
The two men exchanged a toast across the table, while poor Hagrid—sitting between the graceful and elegant Madam Maxime on one side and the strikingly handsome, powerfully built Neos on the other—looked utterly lost.
What was he supposed to do now...?
So hard to choose.
In the end, Hagrid's love for magical creatures triumphed over his hormones and genetic impulses.
"Ahem… Mr. Neos, sir, I heard you run a dragon reserve?" Hagrid asked cautiously.
"Mm. Is there a problem with that?" Neos glanced at him.
"Uh… n-no problem at all."
Hagrid didn't know why, but something felt off. Normally, he wasn't particularly sensitive to other people's emotions—which explained his peculiar kind of popularity at Hogwarts.
As the saying goes, enthusiasm conquers all. With Hagrid's brand of overly earnest social energy, most people couldn't quite handle it, but they didn't truly dislike him either.
Well… some did keep their distance—but since Hagrid never noticed, he just kept on being his cheerful, unfiltered self until everyone slowly got used to him.
But Neos was different. Even with Hagrid's reflexes slower than a dragon's and his awareness duller than a cauldron bottom, he could still feel that cold, distant aura from Neos.
That, in itself, was almost a talent.
Soon after, the two Ministry officials finally arrived. Kasenhis swallowed hard—finally, dinner time! He picked up his knife and fork, waiting for the house-elves to bring out the food.
But before he could so much as cut into a roll, Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman exchanged a glance, turned toward Dumbledore, and upon receiving a slight nod, walked straight behind Kasenhis.
One on each side, they grabbed him under the arms and lifted him clean off the chair.
"???"
"What are you doing? What are you doing?! I came here for dinner! What are you trying to do?!"
Kasenhis shouted as he struggled, just about to find the right moment to land a solid hit on the two of them before lunging at Dumbledore in protest—when Ludo Bagman suddenly leaned in and whispered something in his ear.
The next second, he regained control of his legs and started walking toward the exit of the Great Hall.
"So right now, I'm seriously doubting—just how stupid is this damn Goblet of Fire supposed to be? How did it even break a-fucking-gain?" Kasenhis sighed as he looked at the shattered remains of the Goblet scattered across the floor.
"Probably due to age and lack of maintenance," Barty Crouch replied.
"I just fixed it not long ago," Kasenhis said dryly. "It's survived centuries of wind and rain, and somehow it breaks the moment it ends up in your hands. Care to explain that?"
......
"Can it still be repaired?"
Kasenhis's mouth twitched. "That's difficult. For an ordinary alchemy professor like me, fixing a Goblet of Fire that's broken to this degree… well, let's just say it'd probably delay the Triwizard Tournament by about three years."
Ludo Bagman looked up at the ceiling and sighed. He could practically see his retirement fund vanishing before his eyes… or maybe, his early retirement fund.
Meanwhile, Barty Crouch decided he might as well go back and write his resignation letter.
Rather than have that idiot Fudge pat him on the shoulder, pretend to comfort him, then reassign him to some useless position to rot away—it'd be better to just quit and go home altogether.
No, wait—he'd already lost the son he'd resurrected using his wife's corpse. Now the whole family was a mess anyway. Maybe going to work was actually the less painful option…
Damn it. What a fucked up life… what a FUCKED up life indeed!
CLANG!
Just as the two of them were sinking into their own miserable thoughts, a loud metallic clang echoed through the room. Startled, they turned toward the source of the sound.
There stood Kasenhis, having placed a pitch-black anvil on the ground. With one hand, he hefted the man-sized Goblet of Fire and set it squarely on top of the anvil.
Then, picking up the scattered fragments from the floor, he began fitting them back together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. When everything was aligned, he pulled out a hammer from God-knows-where and gave it a light tap.
"Fixed," Kasenhis said, clapping his hands.
"…Didn't you say it would take at least three years to repair?" Ludo Bagman asked, his mouth twitching.
"I said that was for an ordinary alchemy professor. Do I look ordinary to you?" Kasenhis frowned.
Bagman and Crouch exchanged a glance.
Beautiful.
Their jobs were safe.
_________
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