Krum had yet to answer.
Ron had already scrambled to his feet and even obligingly scrubbed the seat hard with his sleeve.
"Sit down, please! Let's sit and talk!"
He perfectly embodied a fanatical Quidditch fan meeting his idol, all but desperate to strip off his own jersey for an autograph.
"Ron!"
Hermione's voice was like a splash of cold water over Ron's burning head.
Frowning, she looked at Krum with undisguised wariness in her eyes.
"Why are you asking about Professor Holmes?"
Her voice was quiet but clear.
"The professor isn't a champion here to compete."
For the first time, Krum's gaze left Harry and settled on Hermione's face.
He seemed a little surprised by the girl's blunt questioning.
A probing look flashed through his perpetually impatient eyes.
But he lingered only a moment before his attention quickly returned to his original target.
He took the opportunity to sit on the bench Ron had polished to a shine, his tall frame making the space around them feel cramped.
Just as he was about to speak.
"Well said, Hermione!"
Two identical, teasing voices cut in from beside them.
"Well, well, George, what did I just hear?"
"I heard a disturbing possibility, Fred."
The Weasley Twins leaned in from either side, their faces wearing a mixture of excitement and exaggerated concern.
Stroking his chin, Fred said with an air of great seriousness:
"The Triwizard Tournament rules only say that the three schools each choose their own champion."
George immediately picked up the thread, lowering his voice just enough for everyone nearby to hear.
"But they don't seem to... say the champions have to be students, do they?"
"Our Professor Holmes isn't exactly old..."
"Krum."
Fred turned to the Bulgarian Seeker, his expression becoming utterly solemn.
"You haven't... already started treating our