Madame Maxime walked beside him, an appreciative smile on her face.
The Beauxbatons students clustered behind them like a flock of graceful blue butterflies.
As Hagrid passed the staff table, he even winked vigorously in Douglas's direction.
His eyes were full of gratitude and pride.
Only then did Harry, Ron, and Hermione come running in, all three out of breath.
The moment Harry entered, his gaze turned habitually toward the staff table.
He saw Douglas.
Douglas held a goblet and raised it toward him, wearing the smile of someone enjoying a show.
Harry followed Douglas's gaze to Hagrid, not far away.
His face instantly turned as pale as paper.
Ron and Hermione saw him too. Both froze on the spot as though struck by Petrificus Totalus, then quickly lowered their heads, pretending to look for something on the floor.
Like three quails that had done something wrong, they slunk over to the end of the Gryffindor table and sat in the least conspicuous spot they could find.
Harry felt his face burning like coals in a fireplace.
There was no need to ask.
His maternal cousin definitely had a hand in Hagrid's earth-shattering outfit.
Perhaps later, Hagrid would even tell him about the three of them asking after Douglas's romantic history that afternoon.
Just then, Igor Karkaroff entered with his Durmstrang students.
They moved like a flock of blood-soaked ravens, leaving the air thin and cold wherever they passed.
Douglas's gaze traveled over the shifting heads and settled on Krum.
Krum looked up at him, a rare smile touching his lips.
Douglas answered with a curve of his own lips.
He raised his goblet toward the young man in a silent salute.
A small gesture of encouragement from an elder.
Almost reflexively, Karkaroff took a sudden, large step sideways.
His