After dinner, Madame Maxime outlined the next day's arrangements.
With competitors staying at Beauxbatons for nearly a month, their studies couldn't be neglected – they'd attend classes alongside Beauxbatons' young witches and wizards.
Only then did Wayne learn that Cassandra was merely a fourth-year.
A fourth-year representing her school in the championship... He stole a glance at Lafferty.
Had the old codger pulled strings for this?
Lafferty didn't notice Wayne's surreptitious look, but Cassandra, who'd been observing him, did.
"I didn't get here because of my father!" she protested urgently. "My Herbology and Potions marks have always been top of the school – even upper years can't match them!"
"Why so defensive?" Wayne looked at her strangely. "I didn't say anything."
"Your gaze betrays you." Cassandra snorted lightly. "I'll do my best to take first place in this competition."
"Sure, go for it." Wayne nodded indifferently, his dismissive attitude irritating Cassandra further.
The group left the antechamber, with Wayne lingering at the back before approaching Madame Maxime alone.
"Madame, may I ask if it's mandatory to attend classes for my current year?"
"What are you thinking?" Maxime inquired.
Wayne smiled sheepishly. "I'm quite interested in Beauxbatons' alchemy courses, but they're only available for third-years and above."
After a moment's contemplation, Maxime suddenly had an idea. "How about this? You can attend classes with Fleur from now on."
"That would be perfect. Thank you, Madame." Wayne nodded gently.
"It's nothing." Maxime smiled. Truthfully, she felt Wayne hardly needed to attend classes at all.
Any student capable of publishing papers in Transfiguration Today and The Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, while casually conjuring natural disasters, was beyond extraordinary.
She wouldn't object to him attending any year level he wished.
...
Students from various magical schools returned to their pre-arranged dormitories. With numbers being limited, each was allotted a small single room.
After instructing their respective students not to wander at night, the professors reconvened with Madame Maxime.
"Olympe, how are preparations for that matter progressing?"
Lafferty couldn't wait to ask the moment they entered.
"There's significant resistance," Maxime sighed. "Many believe the Triwizard Tournament should remain exclusive to Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang – that this fine tradition must be preserved."
"Is that so?" Lafferty looked disappointed, then turned to Snape. "Professor Snape, what is Headmaster Dumbledore's stance?"
"He expressed support," Snape said coolly. "But Dumbledore has never been one to involve himself in such matters. It's McGonagall who sits on the Tournament Committee."
"Could he help persuade others?" Lafferty asked hopefully. "With Dumbledore's endorsement, our chances would improve dramatically."
"Indeed, Mr. Snape, please convey our strong wishes to Dumbledore."
Professors from Uagadou and Castelobruxo chimed in, their heavily accented English making Snape frown.
"I'll relay your messages. What Dumbledore chooses to do afterwards is beyond my influence."
The professors nodded in understanding.
Whether from Ilvermorny, Uagadou, Castelobruxo, or the yet-to-arrive Mahoutokoro, they all shared one common goal: participation in the upcoming Triwizard Tournament to strengthen ties with other schools.
Ilvermorny and Mahoutokoro were particularly eager, being the youngest institutions with relatively weaker foundations.
Grindelwald, Dumbledore, Voldemort – every wizard who'd shaken the magical world had emerged from the three great schools.
The heart of the wizarding world had always remained in Europe.
This wasn't merely about exchange; it was about learning – absorbing exceptional concepts and methods to integrate into their own institutions. But for now, the difficulty of getting involved seems relatively high.
The Triwizard Tournament was discontinued due to its excessive casualty rate. Though Maxime's efforts have led to plans for its revival, every step will be taken with extreme caution.
Expanding to include so many schools at once would inevitably bring a tidal wave of complications and preparatory work.
That's precisely why it's so challenging.
However, Maxime is quite keen on facilitating other schools' participation, as it would allow Beauxbatons to extend its influence across different continents.
After discussing this primary agenda, the professors moved on to deliberating the tournament's procedures.
It wasn't until late at night that they finally left the Headmaster's Office.
...
The next day.
Wayne's door was knocked on unusually early. The young man, still brushing his teeth, rushed to answer it and found Fleur standing there with a radiant smile.
"Come on, I'll show you around the campus. It was too late yesterday, and with the professors around, we missed out on all the fun spots."
"Give me a moment." Wayne gestured before darting back to speed through his morning routine and change clothes.
By the time they stepped out of the castle, the sky was only just lightening, with not a single student in sight.
Wayne turned to Fleur with an exaggerated look of relief. "Last night I was terrified there'd be no bathroom in my room. If I couldn't find one outside either, I'd have had to resort to the bushes."
Fleur caught the teasing tone and burst into laughter, playfully pinching Wayne's arm: "You're awful! This isn't the Palace of Versailles!"
As the favourite residence of the Sun King Louis XIV and one of the world's five greatest palaces, the Palace of Versailles' artistic splendour and opulence need no elaboration.
Yet one notorious flaw was its near-total lack of toilets, with only a handful of commode chairs reserved for nobility.
Guards, servants, and even minor officials had to relieve themselves wherever possible.
In truth, this wasn't unique to Versailles - all of France at that time reeked so badly that visiting ambassadors from other countries reportedly fainted from the stench.
Wayne was clearly poking fun at this historical absurdity.
They wandered towards the rear gardens, where Beauxbatons' most distinctive features lay in its abundance of fountains and small ornamental gardens.
Even after a whole morning, they'd only explored a fraction before needing to return to the Great Hall for lunch.
By now, the student population had swelled. Unlike Hogwarts' house system, everyone at Beauxbatons wore identical uniforms. Contrary to popular media portrayals, the school wasn't exclusively female - though girls did outnumber boys.
As the pair entered, most eyes turned their way.
The boys' expressions ranged from shock to undisguised envy, their gazes turning dagger-like at the sight of Wayne and Fleur's clasped hands.
The girls' reactions were more nuanced. Wayne noticed many seemed distinctly unfriendly towards Fleur.
"Ignore them," Fleur sniffed, sweeping past the stares to guide Wayne to empty seats. Summoning breakfast for him, she explained:
"I've never been one for making friends. It's natural some would take issue with me."
"Understood. Female jealousy can be formidable." Wayne nodded without offering empty comfort.
He could tell Fleur wasn't putting on a brave face - she genuinely didn't care.
As the two were eating, Cassandra and the other two Ilvermorny students arrived. She stood at the entrance, scanning the room, and upon spotting Wayne, walked straight towards him.
Fleur's brows furrowed, instinctively assuming Cassandra was here to cause trouble.