The path back from the Black Lake to the castle echoed with laughter and jubilation. Felix anticipated they'd occupy the Great Hall for another round of celebration, much like before. The only difference being the champions from the other schools joining the crowd, all heading towards the castle.

"Mission accomplished, wouldn't you say?" Bagman spoke from beside him. "Letting the students experience the essence of cooperation through competition."

"That doesn't quite sound like something from your lips," Felix chuckled softly.

"Oh, well... it's actually from Barty's speech; I stumbled upon it in his office," Bagman explained in a hushed tone. "I'm not particularly adept at these things, but if you need to liven things up... let's get back to business." He suddenly seemed uneasy.

"About that... what do you call them, magical projectors?" He glanced towards the distance where students queued along the marble steps into the castle, occasional bursts of crackling or red sparks emanating from wand tips.

The projection screen by the Black Lake remained in place, 'Future World' staff milling around it. These screens would soon be dismantled and stored until their next use.

"Indeed," Felix replied. In truth, there wasn't much difference between magical phonographs and magical projectors in terms of the magic employed, but Felix hoped the projectors could display regular movies.

He glanced at Bagman, who wiped sweat from his forehead. "I know 'Future World' has obtained authorization to commercially release imagery from the second project..."

Felix nodded slightly, calmly saying, "There is such a plan. The Tournament brings about discussions akin to the Quidditch World Cup, and there's a market for it. The only issue is, Lems is attempting to refine the projectors further. As Clementine puts it, imbuing it with more magical essence..."

"I can persuade the Ministry to promote these images," Bagman said, sweat glistening on his brow, making it shimmer in the sunlight. "To convince Fudge... he's been having a rough time lately. He miscalculated, and no one cares if the Ministry, under his leadership, facilitated another international potion collaboration. People want more thrilling, attention-grabbing news, like the Tournament. A colleague told me other countries have been reprinting a lot of our reports."

"I don't plan to alter the contract—"

"Oh, of course not, it won't affect you. It's just a suggestion; Fudge will agree. He wants to divert public attention." Bagman said sluggishly. "You know, there are rumors circulating in the ministry lately... the Dark Mark... old Barty's arrest, Skele-Gro's objections..."

...

"Don't be a killjoy, Hermione; we're definitely going to have a blast." Ron said cheerfully.

Fleur and her companions had just left, coming over to express gratitude to Harry. She planted two kisses on Harry's cheeks, leaving Ron immensely envious. Then the Uagadou champions dispersed from the crowd, admiring Harry's impressive Patronus Charm.

Captain Nona Leberth even gifted Harry a talisman resembling intertwined leaves and branches made of hollowed twine.

"It will protect you," Nona asserted confidently.

Two other Uagadou champions stood beside her, guarding. Harry was up close with them for the first time, realizing just how tall all three were.

Accepting the talisman, Harry murmured, "Thank you," then hung it on his clothes.

"It looks nice," Nona smiled, and they departed.

What followed overwhelmed the trio; one champion after another found an opportunity to converse with them individually. Even the broodingly astute Gravely initiated a conversation, surprising Harry, who hadn't held him in high regard after his attempt to use powerful magic on Hermione.

"What day is today?" Ron asked wide-eyed.

"It's probably the credit of your Patronus, Harry," Hermione pondered for a moment, offering an answer.

"But, I just used a spell," Harry widened his eyes. "They look at me as if I've done something extraordinary..."

"Oh, that's different, Harry," Hermione gazed at him, a mix of admiration and regret in her eyes.

Harry looked back, puzzled.

"As we reached the end of the challenge, everyone was exhausted. Without your Patronus, they might've all been hauled back by the merfolk in a lump. That's a significant difference—the evaluation between success and failure," Hermione explained. "I believe that's why they're grateful to you."

"So, does that mean," Ron was surprised, "we could've easily outstripped everyone in the second task?"

"It's just a possibility," Hermione said sternly. "I suppose if that were true, the other teams would've, at most, scored half of what they have now. But it's speculation; after all, Harry had already made his choice."

Harry scratched his head; he hadn't thought that far. He just felt in that moment that he had to do something, especially with Cedric and the others inside. Hermione's words made him blush a bit, but fortunately, at that moment, Fred and George passed by them. He gestured to the two of them and followed along.

"Hello, Mr. Bagman... can we buy you a drink?" Fred and George stepped forward, grinning.

"Oh, uh, kids... alright, let's go over there to talk..." Bagman said, hurrying away with Fred and George, nearly colliding with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who instinctively slowed down, their ears perked up to eavesdrop.

"I'll be getting some money soon, when? Today, that's when. So don't worry, kids!" Bagman raised his voice before vanishing with the twins into the Great Hall.

"Do you think they—oh, Professor," Hermione looked at Felix.

Harry and Ron greeted him too. Felix nodded at them, smiling. "Congratulations to you. You're going to be famous because of this competition," he hinted, saying, "You'll be in the newspapers?"

"I've seen quite a few reporters around, but they only circled when we emerged from the Black Lake, then turned their cameras towards the esteemed guests," Ron added sarcastically.

"Perhaps more than that," Felix smiled. "Maybe you'll have your own fans writing in... I reckon, a month or two from now?"

Harry and his friends left, bewildered.

Towards evening, Sirius burst into the office in a rush, "Felix, I need to borrow your fireplace. I nearly forgot, I've promised to return to the school to organize equipment; old Fawley can't manage it all alone..."

"How's life at the school?" Felix asked, settled behind his desk.

"It's alright," Sirius replied vaguely, hastily grabbing a handful of Floo Powder to sprinkle into the fireplace. "Those mischievous students... they're everywhere. Sometimes I really want to knock their heads with my wand."

"Perhaps that's precisely what Dumbledore is worried about," Felix said.

Sirius stared at him, dumbfounded for a moment, then exclaimed, "Are you saying he's worried I'll hex the students? I wouldn't—"

"I didn't say anything," Felix grinned, teasingly. "But you certainly can't treat yourself as a student anymore, can you? Perhaps you fancy the title 'King of Kids'? Want to be the head of Gryff

indor?"

Sirius made a crude gesture, vanishing into the rising emerald flames.

Felix redirected his attention to the book of magical texts on his desk.

It lay there quietly, blinking every few seconds, as if breathing rhythmically. Whether it was breathing, he wasn't sure, but he knew one thing—this book was undeniably growing.

Initially, it was merely a notion to organize the ancient magical texts he'd learned. Out of convenience and habit, he chose the book's form. At first, the book of magical texts was entirely illusory, lacking any solidity. Later, it gained a first page, a second page.

"In fact, I should have realized it earlier. Quantity doesn't matter; my understanding of ancient magical texts forms the skeleton of this book. As each text fills in, they spontaneously seek the best arrangement... and finally, it's time for the harvest."

His index finger lightly brushed the spine of the book, and the Book of Magical Texts suddenly opened.

The author had an urgent matter and could only present this chapter today. Apologies to the readers and will strive to make up for it tomorrow.

>

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