Across from him, Fleur Delacour let out a stifled gasp.
A faint, dreamlike silver-blue aura spilled uncontrollably from around her body.
The powerful Veela magic deep within her bloodline was instantly awakened, surging out like floodwater through a broken dam.
Ron, who was closest to her, dropped his chicken leg onto his plate with a smack. His eyes went blank, a foolish, blissful smile spread across his face, and he began muttering to himself.
He was not the only one. A large swath of the boys nearby fell into the same entranced state, and for a time, the scene descended into chaos.
On the other side, faint cracking sounds came from Krum's body.
The muscles of his burly frame instantly tensed, and veins twisted beneath his skin like little snakes.
A fierce, primal fighting spirit flashed in his eyes, as though he might transform into that bloodthirsty shark right there at any moment.
He gripped the edge of the table tightly, forcibly suppressing the violent urge as great beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.
Before the students could recover from their shock, Durmstrang's headmaster, Igor Karkaroff, shot to his feet.
He pointed at the perfectly composed Douglas and demanded harshly:
"Holmes! What have you done to my Champion? This is vicious dark magic!"
At the same time, Madame Maxime of Beauxbatons abruptly rose as well. Her towering frame cast a vast shadow as she strode over to Pheobe and shielded her behind her.
Her enormous black eyes fixed on Douglas with anger and wariness, and her voice was low and commanding:
"I need an explanation, Professor. Immediately!"
The tension erupted in an instant. With both visiting headmasters challenging him at once, the very air in the Great Hall seemed to freeze.
"Please remain quiet, everyone!"
Dumbledore stood, and a