Are You Really Hufflepuff?

Ollivander walked to the open space in the middle and looked at the three people in front of him.

"Miss Delacour, would you like to go first?"

As a wand expert, he immediately recognized that Phoebe's wand was the most unique among everyone present, and naturally became very curious.

"Alright." Phoebe walked over gracefully and handed him the wand in her hand.

"Not bad," Ollivander held the wand close to his eyes, examining it closely. "Nine and a half inches... maple... the core is... oh, it's Veela hair."

"It's my grandma's hair," Phoebe said.

"I see," Ollivander said. "Although I think a wand made from Veela hair is a bit too sensitive and capricious, but if you think it's appropriate..."

He waved his wand.

"Orchideous!"

A bouquet of flowers blooms at the tip of the cane.

"Very good, very good, you're in good shape." Ollivander returned the flowers and wand to Phoebe.

"Mr. Krum, it's your turn."

Krum stood up and listlessly shoved the wand over.

However, Ollivander wasn't as enthusiastic this time.

"Hmm... Gregorovitch's products," he said. "Echino wood... Dragon heart tendon... ten and a quarter inches... Avis!"

With a loud bang, several small birds flew out.

"Very good." He handed the wand back to Krum. "Then, there's only one left..."

Kyle then walked over.

"Oh, this is my product, isn't it?" Ollivander said excitedly.

If the first two times were out of interest and work requirement, then this time he is genuinely happy.

Having his work participate in the Triwizard Tournament is an honor for him.

It would be too embarrassing to have only the wands made by Gregorovitch and not his.

"Yes, I remember it very clearly..." Ollivander seemed lost in a memory, "I found a particularly tall cedar tree in the heart of the Black Forest, and I spent several days negotiating with those Bowtruckle just to get a branch from it... and that Phoenix Feather ..."

Ollivander described the origin of the wand in such vivid detail, as if he were telling a story, that he took longer than the previous two times combined.

Five minutes later...

"Wand-Lighting Charm."

A soft white light emanated from the wand, Ollivander then returned it to Kyle.

"Thank you, everyone!" Dumbledore stood up from the referee's table. "Now you can go back to class... or it would be more convenient to just go down to lunch, since you'll be out of class soon anyway."

Afterwards, they took group photos of the Champion and a few individual photos before finally leaving the room.

The referees went upstairs to the Headmaster's Office, while Kyle and Phoebe prepared to go downstairs to the Great Hall for lunch.

However, just as Kyle reached the top of the stairs, a hand that looked like a claw suddenly grabbed his arm.

"Ms. Skeeter, what do you mean by this?" Kyle asked, frowning.

"Just a few minor issues, dear... for the Daily Prophet." Rita Skeeter gave a clearly fake smile.

"I think I've already clearly declined your visit," Kyle said.

However, Rita Skeeter still didn't let go; in fact, she seemed even more excited.

Her crocodile-skin handbag was already open, and inside, a fancy quill pen was writing something rapidly on a roll of parchment.

"The young and handsome Champion finally found his true love at Hogwarts. He was completely captivated by Fleur Delacour's stunning beauty and wanted to be by her side almost every moment..."

"Never mind that pen, Kyle," Rita Skeeter said. "Can you tell me why you want to sign up?"

"Let's go, Kyle, ignore her," Phoebe said.

"No, I've changed my mind," Kyle smiled. "I've decided to accept Ms. Skeeter's visit."

The Quick-Quotes Quill in the tote bag started moving again.

"He was obsessed with increasing his fame, and even the Order of Merlin couldn't satisfy him. In order to gain more recognition, he even went so far as to give up his date with Miss Phoebe..."

Kyle took a deep breath. Thankfully, due to the angle, Phoebe couldn't see the words on the parchment from her position.

After exchanging a few words with Phoebe, Kyle walked into an empty classroom next door.

"Tell me how you feel about the upcoming match," Rita Skeeter asked eagerly as soon as she entered. "Are you excited or nervous?"

"I guess so," Kyle, casually finding a seat. "But mostly I feel fortunate; I think I'm very lucky."

"Oh?" Rita Skeeter asked curiously, "Is it because I was chosen?"

"No, it's because you came." Kyle looked her up and down. "You've given me the perfect excuse."

"An excuse? What do you mean?" Rita Skeeter felt a little lost with Kyle's train of thought; this was a rare occurrence in her career.

"Of course it's an excuse for failure." Kyle stretched and chuckled. "I've read your article... to be honest, calling it garbage is an understatement."

"You..."

"Don't rush, Miss Skeeter, let me finish."

Kyle waved his hand, ignoring the rapidly moving Quick-Quotes Quill, and continued, "But it's not without its advantages... because if my grades are too bad, I can tell everyone that it was because reading your article made me unsettled, which led to my defeat in the competition."

That way no one will criticize me anymore. Aren't I lucky?

As he spoke, Kyle started laughing.

Rita Skeeter laughed too. "You wouldn't, you're from the Order of Merlin..."

"No, I will," Kyle said. "Like you just said, I'm only fifteen, the youngest on the Champion, it's too difficult to win."

But I don't want to bear the infamy that comes with failure. Only in this way can I protect my reputation, right?

Rita Skeeter's smile gradually faded.

"They won't believe it."

"No, you're wrong, they'll believe you." Kyle shook his finger. "It's still an age issue... I'm three years younger than Phoebe and Krum, so I'm naturally at a disadvantage. Even if I fail, no one can really say anything."

But centuries later, when the Triwizard Tournament was restarted for the first time, Hogwarts suffered a crushing defeat on its own turf. They couldn't just swallow their anger.

Rita Skeeter gripped her handbag tightly, and her Quick-Quotes Quill finally stopped moving.

"So I prepared a target for them to vent their anger on... Oh, it's you, Miss Skeeter."

Kyle didn't even glance at her and continued, "Nobody cares about the specific reasons for my failure or whether it has anything to do with your article. They just need a punching bag."

And you are precisely the most suitable candidate."

Kyle stood up, bowed slightly, and said, "Thank you again!"

Rita Skeeter's face was so dark it looked like it was about to drip water.

As someone known for manipulating gossip, she knew better than anyone that... no one cared about the truth; they only cared about what interested them.

Being blamed for the failure of the Triwizard Tournament is too much... If Kyle really did what she just said, she's probably finished.

Rita Skeeter was breathing heavily.

She had learned about Kyle before she arrived; Hufflepuff with a very good reputation and was considered a model student by the professors.

And she defines Kyle as a Dumbledore student.

As a result... seeing Kyle's smiling face, Rita Skeeter felt that she was terribly wrong.

"Are you really a Hufflepuff?" she asked dryly.

"Genuine, no doubt about it." Kyle stood up and pushed open the classroom door.

"Oh, right," he turned his head and said, "I'll compensate you after the Triwizard Tournament is over, how about one hundred Galleon?"

"Aren't you afraid I won't publish this article?" Rita Skeeter asked.

"I don't think you will," Kyle said. "You're known for your fearlessness of authority; how could you possibly give up publishing an article just because of a few words from me? That's not the rebellious Miss Skeeter I know."

After saying that, Kyle left without looking back.

Rita Skeeter stood there, her expression constantly shifting.

She felt somewhat relieved.

Although he himself made a mistake in defining Kyle, thankfully, he made the same mistake as Kyle.

Rita Skeeter picked up the scroll of parchment covered in writing, tore it to shreds, and gave a mocking laugh.

"We'll see... You really shouldn't have said these things to me."