Klein had been very busy lately.
Not only did he have to deal with the England Quidditch Representative Team's endless training sessions, he also had to find time to put on a grand performance with himself.
Don't ask. The answer was that his life was full.
And he'd completed Dumbledore's request the previous night, too. Using magic reversion, he'd successfully infiltrated Old Barty's home and found evidence that Barty Crouch Jr. had murdered Barty Crouch Sr.
When he heard the news, the old man's brows knitted together.
But it had nothing to do with him anymore.
"Boss, Boss, are you there?"
Klein had been wondering whether he should visit Mister Newt and his Fantastic Beasts sanctuary once this busy period was over. He hadn't expected Gasol's booming voice to ring out beside him the moment he let his mind wander.
Klein sighed and turned to look at the embarrassed muscle-bound man in the doorway. "What is it?"
They hadn't gotten along at first, but after training together for so long, they'd become fairly close.
"Boss, there are a bunch of reporters outside. They say they want to interview you."
Gasol scratched his head and chuckled sheepishly. Though Klein was more than a decade younger than him, he still felt a little ill at ease around him. (Mostly because he'd been beaten too many times.)
"Reporters?"
Klein blinked.
He hadn't done anything lately. Why did they want to interview him?
"Oh, those spineless Bulgarian guys made a big fuss about that incident in the papers a few days ago. Yesterday, they played a practice match against the Ireland Quidditch Team and apparently won by a lot.
"Ireland's a traditional powerhouse, so they got famous overnight. Then Krum, that coward, got carried away and said some pretty outrageous things."
Klein had made