Neither of the two people in the office are wizards whose vision is obstructed by a wall. Their gaze swept towards the door that was being knocked on, and both Ammosta and Arasto's expressions became slightly nuanced.
"Should I step aside, Brain?"
Professor Moody hides his inner anxiety behind a gravelly voice and asks.
"I don't think there's a need for that, Professor Moody--"
Ammosta spoke calmly, waving his hand to make the empty cookie box and crumbs on the desk disappear. Then, he said in a serious tone, "Please come in--"
The door clicked open, and a girl wrapped in a light blue cloak entered, hiding her face behind the hood.
"Sssssh—It's really cold outside—phew, but it's pretty warm in here--"
The girl didn't even bother to look around the office. She closed the door with her back hand, then took off her cape, revealing the silk school uniform that fit the curves of Beesbutterton perfectly. Fuchun murmured as she carefully shook off the small snowflakes on her cape.
"Wow, honestly, I really don't want to leave the carriage and come to the castle in this weather, but since Gabrielle wants to play in the snow with the students from Hogwarts, I had to come along with her. She seems to be having a great time, but I'm quite bored."
So I just thought of you. Do you understand what I mean? I've been waiting for you to invite me. Always waiting, oh, the British are too subtle in this respect, always evasive. Why can't it be as straightforward as when you beat Venta Kline in the summer Quidditch final!
Fuchun looked down at her cloak a few times, then let out a breath as if finally satisfied.
"Maybe you can invite me to have a cup of the kind of tea you often drink, Ammosta. Although I'm not too fond of its taste, at least it can warm up the head--"
Fuchun draped her cloak over her arm and then, finally, lifted her gaze to the inner office area. One look, and her expression froze in shock. The pale face, flushing red from the cold.
A silence fell, and an odd atmosphere permeated the office.
Fuchun stood there frozen like under an enchantment, while Ammosta compressed her lips, showing no emotion. Professor Moody, however, still facing Ammosta, the blue eye seemed to be malfunctioning. It would occasionally look forward and then towards his head.
"Perhaps you're not convenient now, Brian--"
Ultimately, it was Professor Moody who broke the awkward silence, his hoarse voice suddenly becoming deeper. His gaze towards Ammosta was filled with an oddly bright light.
"Or, I'll just come back another time."
"Oh, no need, Professor Moody--"
Ammosta opened his mouth to interrupt, already having a premonition that what Fuchun was here to find out would be far more troubling for him than anything related to Professor Moody.
"Oh, sorry, Professor Moody!"
Fuchun also came back to her senses, recognizing that the person opposite Ammosta was a professor of Defense Against The Dark Arts, from Beesbutterton and Demstrang. Fuchun has been taking classes with the first-year students from Hogwarts this year and sincerely hopes that the words she just murmured were not heard by Professor Moody. But having taken Professor Moody's classes for two months, she also knew it was impossible.
"I didn't see you in here... well, waiting outside!"
Fuchun angrily glared at Amostast Brean, this guy should have warned her earlier, but he didn't say anything and just sat there, watching her in disbelief.
"You don't have to leave, Miss Delacour--"
Ammosta also called out to Fuchun, who was in a hurry to leave.
"I'm just having a casual chat with Professor Moody, if you have any important matters or need help with any difficulties, you can tell me directly. I'll do my best."
Moody blinked and lowered his head, staring at his nearly empty tea cup, silently indicating that he would not interfere with the conversation between Fuchun and Ammosta.
"There's nothing, I was just--"
Fuchun, stopped by Ammosta, spoke without thinking: even though she had just complained about the British's reserved nature, she didn't want to invite Ammosta as her dance partner at the Christmas ball in front of another Hogwarts professor. However, just before she could cover up her words, Fuchun suddenly fell silent.
Fuchun had dealt with Ammosta for quite some time and was well aware of his style.
Whenever she tried to express her heart directly to Ammosta, this man would act like a slimy slug, slippery and hard to pin down, always diverting the topic or her attention.
The presence of another professor might be a good thing, which would prevent Ammosta·Brean from being able to dodge the question like he did before.
"Okay!"
The thought that flashed through Fuchun's mind made her instantly make up her mind. She tugged at her silvery hair, raised her chin slightly. The previous shyness and embarrassment disappeared, and the coquettishness and confidence reappeared on her perfectly made face. Then she walked over to Ammosta with light steps.
Fuchun's change in posture allowed Ammosta to accurately catch her shift in mood. As Fuchun approached quickly, Ammosta subtly furrowed his brow.
Ammosta has already guessed what Fuchun's purpose is.
He had seen the warrior from Demstrang invite Hermione to the ball that would be held on Christmas Eve in the library earlier. He hadn't expected that so quickly, he would be the one left out of the gossip. By having Professor Moody present, he had intended to make Fuchun cautious, but Fuchun's courage and determination surpassed his expectations.
Perhaps, he should have shown a clearer attitude--
Before Fuchun could make her invitation, Ammosta had already made up his mind in his heart.
"That is to say, I'm here to ask if you would be willing--"
Fuchun quickly glanced at Professor Moody, even she could see that this Defense Against The Dark Arts professor, known for his acute and harsh treatment of dark wizards while in office, was putting on an air, holding the cup with the bottom of the tea left.
"to be my dance partner at the Christmas ball!"
Fuchun finally still 'decisively' issued the invitation.
This is really surprising, how could the famous Ammosta·Brean have a unclear relationship with the warriors from Demstrang? If this news gets out, what will people say?
Professor Moody's face, which was scarred from battle, changed its expression abruptly. The magical eye in his socket, through the bottom of the cup, stared at the calm Professor Brean, eager to see how Ammosta would react.
"I don't want to, Miss Delacour."
Cough!
Moody was taken aback by the tea that had been caught in his throat, and he coughed heavily. He hadn't expected Brean to refuse so abruptly, without even a second's hesitation.
The silence suddenly fell without warning, Amostast Brean looked at Fuchun with a face that couldn't hide his surprise, as if he had already said everything he wanted to say.
Fuchun was indeed surprised. Before coming, she had already prepared many scenarios for how Amostast Brean might react after her invitation, she thought that if Brean really refused, he would respond as usual, using subtle hints or diverting the topic with humor. But she didn't expect that Brean would so bluntly refuse without any mercy!
"Why!"
Fuchun's breath quickened, because of shame and anger, her cheeks were even more rosy.
"Why?"
Amostast Brean asked back, raising an eyebrow.
"Because, according to tradition, while Hogwarts has planned this dance for the purpose of increasing mutual understanding, I personally have no interest in it. I don't plan on becoming anyone's dance partner or inviting someone to be mine. Of course, out of politeness and etiquette, I may dance with someone at the ball for a couple of dances, but that's all."
"But--"
Fuchun's clear blue eyes were blazing with anger.
"If you had no intention of doing so, then why did you let that little boy give me that dress as a gift!"
Amostast Brean gave Fuchun a ball gown?
The blue magical eye of Professor Moody, who was casually watching out the window, suddenly twitched, trying to direct it towards Ammostast Brean. But in the end, he suppressed this impulse. However, it was strange; he suddenly felt a mix of emotions in his heart.
"What did you just say, Miss Delacour?"
Ammosta fixed his gaze and furrowed his brow, looking quite impatient.
"Doesn't Harry tell you? The dress was a gift from him, an apology for bumping into your nose. I only gave him some advice. That's all--"
(Chapter completed)
