Warning

The wine glasses were refilled after being finished, and the roast meat and soup were removed from the long table and replaced with chilled pudding and ice cream. The crystal chandeliers hanging from the dome cast warm yellow light throughout the Great Hall.

Groups of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff wizards gathered around, listening excitedly as Ron and Macmillan recounted how the two Champion joined forces to defeat the Acromantula in the final challenge. Their faces flushed with excitement.

The graduating young wizards wandered between the four dining tables, saying goodbye to classmates they knew or didn't know. Their glasses clinked together, and the melancholy of parting dissipated amidst the lively noise.

As the midnight bells rang, not a single professor stepped forward to announce the end of the banquet. Occasionally, a professor who couldn't hold his liquor would quietly slip away through a side door. Dumbledore sat at the High Table, a faint smile on his face, and spoke in hushed tones with Professor McGonagall.

Loren, sitting at the back of the Gryffindor table, stared at the old headmaster for a long time. His smile, though faint, was not forced at all. Dumbledore would occasionally invite Professor McGonagall to raise a glass, as if he were completely immersed in the pleasure of the banquet, leaving all his troubles outside the Great Hall.

Loren withdrew his gaze and continued fiddling with what he was holding, "A small half-cup of mango juice as a base, topped with orange juice full of fruit pieces..."

"If you like strawberries, add some strawberry pulp in."

"Mixed fruit juices might look a little unappetizing, but they'll never taste bad."

Hermione watched silently as the man concocted a strange-looking liquid.

The top layer is a light-colored, translucent juice, the middle layer contains cloudy fruit flocs, and the bottom layer is a sediment of fruit pulp, which looks like some kind of unknown Potions. When gently shaken, it releases a rich aroma of mango and orange.

If the little Witch hadn't seen him mix several fruit juices with her own eyes, she might have suspected it was some kind of Potions potion made from crude ingredients.

Doesn't it look tempting?

Loren carefully picked up the crystal glass filled with the strange liquid and handed it over. "It contains a lot of orange juice, with a rich sweetness and a hint of tartness, as well as the unique flavors of mango and strawberry. Try it, it'll definitely be delicious."

As he spoke, the man brought the cup, which emitted a mixed fruity aroma, to her lips.

Hermione glanced at his eager expression, paused for a moment, then took a small sip. It was sweet and sour, but her tongue could clearly taste a slightly astringent flavor.

It's probably because the pulp of several kinds of fruit settled to the bottom. After the layers separated, the liquid floating on top had a rather bland taste, with little sweetness and a very prominent sour and astringent flavor. It wasn't exactly unpleasant to drink, but it certainly wasn't good.

"How is it? Is it good?"

"It tastes good."

Hermione nodded without changing her expression, then looked away somewhat guiltily. "But I ate too much tonight and can't drink anymore. You drink it."

"Then you take a break, I'll get you something else later."

"..."

The person shook the liquid in the cup, took a big gulp, and smacked their lips as if savoring the taste. It seemed that the shaken liquid must taste quite good.

Hermione tilted her head, glancing at his expression and the pale yellow candlelight above him. A glimmer of light flickered in his brown eyes, and she couldn't help but fall into thought.

Was this person deliberately making themselves drink the unpleasant liquid on top?

It shouldn't be.

He could always whip up food that tasted better than what you'd find in a restaurant, and the satisfied expressions on other people's faces when they enjoyed the food pleased him. He probably preferred to hear his own praise rather than playfully tease himself.

Come to think of it, it seems like this has been the case since I first met this person. Where did he learn these cooking skills from?

Grandpa Bates couldn't teach him these things...

As their relationship grew closer, she became increasingly aware that this man harbored many secrets—

His inexplicable cooking skills;

He always knew many secrets, such as the secrets of Barty Crouch father and son, the location of Voldemort's Resurrection Ritual, and so on.

Some of the information wasn't even known to Headmaster Dumbledore, and the source wasn't Flamel from the Fantasy Book.

Hermione wouldn't completely ignore this, nor would she press for details; she trusted Loren completely, and he would always reveal these secrets to her.

In the not-too-distant future.

Before she'd even finished that oddly colored juice, this man beckoned her to join him in mixing various other drinks. Hermione thought it was a bit childish, but she still handed him the glass, handing him the juice he couldn't reach...

At three in the morning, the banquet was drawing to a close.

The group of young wizards who had been making the most noise had already shouted themselves hoarse, while some of the Hufflepuff students lay listlessly on the long table, too sleepy to keep their eyes open but unwilling to close them.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

The silver spoon struck the outside of the crystal glass, the crisp, sharp sound startling the young wizards, who all perked up and opened their eyes wide to look at the High Table.

Sometime later, the star-studded dome was reduced to a dim night sky. The crystal chandeliers and hundreds of magic candles were gone, and a row of rough torches protruded from the four walls, their blazing flames casting their glow on every corner of the Great Hall.

The solemn expressions of the principals and professors at the High Table added to the solemnity of the scene.

"Another year has come to an end." The look in Dumbledore's deep blue eyes made the young wizards uneasy. He muttered to himself, "Professor McGonagall suggested that I announce the news before the banquet began. She may be right; a pleasant banquet can ease the unease in one's heart. But this old man is looking forward to more carefree and joyful times, so I've kept putting it off until now."

He stopped speaking, and the Great Hall fell silent, a sense of oppression gradually approaching the young wizards.

"Voldemort has regained his physical form and is back in force."

A tense whisper filled the Great Hall. Everyone stared at Dumbledore with wide eyes, as if expecting him to admit it was a joke, just like always.

But he didn't. Dumbledore stood there silently, waiting for them to process this shocking fact, until the murmurs gradually subsided into silence.

"The Ministry of Magic doesn't want me to tell you this. Some of your parents might be shocked by what I'm doing. Perhaps it's because they can't believe Voldemort has really returned, or perhaps it's because they think I shouldn't tell you this, since you're all still so young..."

Loren looked around. The young wizards at the other Head of House tables all wore expressions of shock and fear. Apart from Slytherin, some of the pure-blooded ones were whispering among themselves.

"The purpose of the Triwizard Tournament is to enhance and promote mutual understanding within the Wizarding World. Given what is happening now, and given Voldemort's resurrection, this connection is more important than ever."

Dumbledore around, his gaze sweeping over Madam Maxime and Hagrid, over Phoebe Delacour and her Beauxbatons classmates, then over Viktor Krum and Durmstrang's classmates at the Slytherin table, then over Ilvermorny's students, finally meeting Headmaster Fontana's eye and nodding in greeting.

"I must make it clear to everyone here that we can only be strong when we are united, and that division will only make us vulnerable... As long as we show unbreakable trust and friendship, as long as we share the same goals and open our hearts, differences in habits and languages will not be obstacles..."