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Time ticked by, minute by minute. The evening wind, carrying the dampness from the lakeshore, made the waiting chill grow increasingly biting.
They had originally thought the remaining Beauxbatons and Durmstrang delegations would follow closely behind. Yet, the teachers and students from the four schools waited from afternoon until the stars and moon began to rise without seeing another soul.
The grounds before the Castle were shrouded in night, with only the light from torches and the Castle windows providing a bit of warmth and illumination. Some thinly dressed students were already shivering slightly from the cold, murmuring complaints.
The smile Professor McGonagall had maintained for most of the day stiffened. Frowning, she quickly walked over to Dumbledore, who had been calmly gazing into the distance, and asked in a lowered voice, "Albus, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang... are they definitely arriving today? Could there be a mistake in the communicated date?"
Dumbledore stroked his beard, a flicker of doubt also crossing his eyes. "It should... be fine, right?"
Even his tone didn't sound very certain.
"We can't let the guests who have already arrived continue waiting in the cold wind. That's no way to treat guests. Shall I arrange for everyone to enter the Great Hall to warm up first?"
Dumbledore nodded, just about to say, "That might be best," when his gaze was suddenly drawn to a moving point of light in the sky.
He narrowed his eyes, then revealed a knowing smile. "Ah! Please be patient, Minerva—if these old eyes of mine aren't failing me, I believe our French friends have arrived elegantly as promised."
Upon hearing this, all the teachers and students immediately followed his gaze, looking in unison toward the dark night sky.
Below the moon, the outline of a massive object was rapidly enlarging, skimming over the dark waters of the Black Lake and flying toward the Castle with a whistling wind.
The object grew clearer and clearer—it was an astonishingly huge, powder-blue carriage. Its body was made of glossy oak and ornate metal fittings edged with gold, resembling a moving miniature palace.
Twelve orange-glowing glass lanterns floated around the carriage, dispelling the surrounding darkness.
The carriage drew closer and closer.
"Merlin! They're Abraxans!" a knowledgeable student exclaimed in surprise.
The enormous carriage landed steadily on the open ground before the Castle with a lightness that belied its size, its wheels not even stirring up much dust.
All the students stared wide-eyed, rendered speechless by the sheer extravagance of this mode of transport.
The carriage door opened, and a figure bent over and stepped out.
When she stood fully upright, the students couldn't help but gasp again—she was a Witch absurdly tall, appearing to be half a head taller than Hagrid.
She wore an exquisite black satin gown, with expensive opal jewelry gleaming at her neck and on her fingers. Despite her great height, her demeanor was exceptionally graceful, her face wearing a reserved yet polite smile.
Madame Maxime stepped forward, extending her hand to shake hands with the Heads who had come to greet her: Dumbledore, Piquery, Okoye, Lema, and others.
"Welcome to Hogwarts, Madame Maxime," Dumbledore said, looking up with a beaming smile.
"I am also very pleased to visit this historic school, Headmaster Dumbledore. The journey was long, but ultimately smooth. These," she gestured gracefully behind her with a slight wave of her hand, "are the students I have brought with me this time."
About twenty to thirty male and female students filed out of the carriage in an orderly manner, standing neatly behind Madame Maxime.
Most wore exquisite silk robes, their bearing outstanding. They appeared to be around seventeen or eighteen years old, fitting the age for champion selection. A few looked younger, about the same age as Lynn and his friends.
However, the most eye-catching was an exceptionally petite figure at the end of the line—a little girl who looked only eight or nine years old. She stood quietly beside her tall senior students, curiously surveying Hogwarts Castle.
Madame Maxime glanced at the teachers and students from the four schools already gathered around the grounds and raised an eyebrow slightly. "Has Karkaroff and his students not arrived yet?"
Dumbledore blinked. "If their journey is going smoothly, I imagine they will appear tonight. Would you prefer to wait here a moment to greet them, or enter the Castle to warm up first? The feast is ready."
Madame Maxime hesitated almost not at all. "I think we should warm up first. The lake wind on the English highlands at night is indeed not to be underestimated. However... my precious ones need proper accommodation. They've had a hard journey."
"Rest assured," Dumbledore said gently, "our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Rubeus Hagrid, is an expert who deeply loves and understands large magical creatures. He will certainly take meticulous care of them."
Upon hearing the name "Hagrid," and considering that the other man might merely be a Hogwarts teacher rather than a professional Abraxan handler, a flicker of doubt crossed Madame Maxime's face.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, I do not question this Professor's ability. It's just that these Abraxans are of pure bloodline, very delicate and picky eaters. They only drink pure malt whiskey from specific regions. Only a true professional who understands their habits can..."
Her words cut off abruptly.
Because as she spoke, while glancing worriedly at her beloved horses, the scene before her made her eyes widen instantly.
She saw her Abraxans, at this moment, gathered in a circle without any semblance of decorum.
Each horse held a transparent glass bottle in its mouth, tilting its head back and making "glug glug glug" sounds in its throat as it heartily drank the clear liquid inside.
A strong, distinctive aroma of alcohol drifted over with the wind.
And at the center of this "herd of horses drinking heartily" scene, Lynn stood calmly between two of the tallest Abraxans.
With one hand, he skillfully stroked the neck of the horse on his left. With the other, moving so fast it left afterimages, he plucked small tuft after small tuft of tail hair from the Abraxan on his right.
The horse being plucked showed no anger. Instead, it comfortably narrowed its eyes, even actively moving its tail closer to his hand, incidentally letting out a snort carrying the scent of alcohol.
Madame Maxime: "..."
She recognized that boy, Lynn. Luc had even taken him on a tour of Beauxbatons before.
Sensing someone staring at him, Lynn turned his head, a brilliant smile appearing on his face.
"Good evening, Madame Maxime! Welcome to Hogwarts! Your horses must be tired from the journey. I happened to bring some 'hometown specialty' to help them unwind. It seems they quite like it."
Madame Maxime looked at Lynn, then at her Abraxans, who had finished their drink and were now affectionately nuzzling Lynn with their heads, even trying to search his pockets to see if there was any more "specialty" left. For a moment, she didn't know whether to be angry or amused.
In the end, she merely lifted her chin with reserve and said to Dumbledore, "It seems your school is indeed 'teeming with talent.' Since... since this student gets along so 'harmoniously' with my horses, I suppose I can rest assured."
"Of course, Madame!" Lynn readily agreed. "Professor Hagrid has the purest whiskey and spacious, clean sheds over there. They certainly won't be mistreated."