At that moment, the eyes of everyone present were fixed on Maurise.
Not even Madame Maxime and Fleur were exceptions. Fleur's gaze held an undisguised, scrutinizing curiosity; she was genuinely interested in seeing if Maurise could bypass the Age Line.
Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Maurise slowly raised his wand and pointed it at the glowing line. He gave it a gentle flick.
The segment of the Age Line directly in front of him was silently erased, looking as if someone had just rubbed away a pencil mark with an eraser.
It was simple, and it was brutal.
Having done that, Maurise lowered his wand, glanced down at the newly created gap, lifted his foot, and stepped right through.
He walked up to the Goblet of Fire and smoothly dropped his slip of parchment into the cup. Just as it had done for the others, the Goblet immediately flared with blue flames, consuming the paper.
He then turned around, walked back through the gap, and stopped in front of the Weasley twins.
"Just like that," he said.
The moment he finished speaking, the erased section of the Age Line seemingly came to life, instantly reknitting itself back into a perfect, unbroken circle.
Fred and George stared at Maurise, their expressions completely dumbfounded, exactly the same way they had looked at Fleur a moment ago.
After a long silence, Fred finally spoke, his tone desperate. "Maurise, you have to teach us!"
Right then, a massive cheer erupted from the crowd. The entrance hall broke into a chaotic boil. The underage students, in particular, swarmed around Maurise, bombarding him with a cacophony of questions.
"Did you really just put your name in, Maurise?"
"Black! Black! Black!"
"What spell did you use?!"
Maurise hadn't expected them to be so enthusiastic. Trapped in the center of the mob, surrounded by dozens of eager, expectant eyes, he found himself in a slight dilemma.
He thought for a moment before speaking up. "Since you all want to know so badly, I will give you a brief explanation. It is quite simple."
The entrance hall fell silent in an instant. Everyone strained their ears to listen carefully. Even the Beauxbatons students were paying close attention.
Maurise said, "The magic I just used is very simple. It is a general counter-spell: Finite Incantatem. I am sure you have all learned it."
"Wait!" Fred yelled in disbelief. "Just Finite Incantatem?!"
"Correct," Maurise confirmed.
"Brilliant! I am going to try it!"
Fred excitedly pushed his way through the crowd and strode toward the Age Line.
"Fred, wait—" Before George could finish his sentence, Fred was already standing right at the edge of the line.
He drew his wand, aimed it at the glowing ring, and shouted, "Finite Incantatem!"
The golden line flashed violently, detonating in a blinding burst of golden light. Before Fred could even react, he was blasted backward, flipping head over heels twice in mid-air.
Fortunately, Maurise had anticipated this and caught him seamlessly with a Hover Charm.
The moment Fred's feet touched the ground, he spun around and yelled at Maurise with an exaggerated expression of betrayal, "You lied to me!" He purposefully feigned a tearful look, his long white beard quivering comically with every movement.
Maurise chuckled. "That just proves you need more practice."
In his estimation, Dumbledore had cast that Age Line with the explicit intention of preventing underage students from even touching the Goblet. Well, except for him, that is.
Fred was just about to retort when a gentle, amused voice drifted over from the entrance.
"Maurise is quite right. Only a student with a sufficiently high level of magical proficiency could possibly breach that line."
Everyone turned their heads in unison.
Albus Dumbledore stood at the entrance to the hall, wearing the opulent purple robes he reserved for feasts. A small, neat bow was tied into his beard.
He glanced at the long white beards adorning Fred and George's chins, and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. "It seems quite a few underage students have already attempted to cross." His tone held a hint of knowing amusement.
"Yet the only one to succeed is this young gentleman here," Madame Maxime remarked from the side. "Dumbledore, have you come to observe your students as well?"
Dumbledore turned to her with a warm smile. "Indeed I have, Madame Maxime. Furthermore, we are hosting a spot of afternoon tea today, and I formally invite you to join us."
"I would be delighted," Madame Maxime replied immediately.
The two headmasters exchanged pleasantries for a while longer. Meanwhile, Fred and George were already huddled together, furiously whispering about alternative plans to bypass the Age Line.
Maurise didn't plan on lingering. He prepared to leave. According to his schedule, he still had to perform evolution rituals for at least two skeletons today.
As he reached the doorway, a voice sounded from his side.
"Your magic is very impressive."
Fleur Delacour was standing a few paces away, watching him intently. At that moment, she was struck by a peculiar, inexplicable premonition: the young man standing before her was highly likely to become the Hogwarts champion.
"Oh, thank you," Maurise replied politely.
His magic was naturally far superior to that of an ordinary student. However, compared to truly powerful wizards, he still had a long way to go. Like Sclep, for instance.
"Do you think you will be chosen as a champion?" Fleur asked suddenly.
"I have no idea," Maurise shrugged. "After all, it is just a cup doing the choosing. It might have a mind of its own."
Fleur flashed a radiant smile, her eyes sparkling with absolute confidence. "I, however, believe I will be the champion for Beauxbatons."
Maurise replied mildly, "Then I congratulate you in advance. Confidence is a good thing. Do your best." He genuinely didn't care who his opponents turned out to be.
Fleur was slightly taken aback by Maurise's reaction. She had expected him to display at least a hint of competitive spirit, but there was none. In fact, his tone sounded more like a senior encouraging a junior.
Why... did that feel somewhat infuriating?
She was just about to press the conversation further, but Maurise had already turned and walked away.
"Fleur, you look a little flushed. Are you feeling unwell?"
Madame Maxime's voice called out. She had finished her conversation with Dumbledore.
"It is nothing," Fleur replied quickly.
---
After leaving the castle, Maurise headed straight for the Black Lake.
The weather was pleasant. The sun was only peeking through the clouds, but it still provided a comforting warmth.
Currently, the most eye-catching object on the Black Lake was undeniably the massive sailing ship Durmstrang had arrived on. At that moment, the Durmstrang students were lined up, boarding the vessel.
Karkaroff stood by the gangplank, scrutinizing each student as they boarded. Seeing Maurise approach, he immediately fixed his gaze on him, his eyes flashing with suspicion.
"Mr. Black?" he asked, sounding puzzled. "Taking a stroll by the lake? Or are you taking an interest in our ship?"
He was relatively willing to engage with someone of Maurise's minor fame.
Maurise shook his head slightly. "I am just looking for my ship."
"Your ship?" Karkaroff paused, looking around the empty shore. "Where is it?"
"It will be here to greet me momentarily."
Maurise turned around and faced the Black Lake.
Right beside the Durmstrang ship, the surface of the water began to churn violently. A massive, dark shadow slowly expanded from below, looking as if some leviathan were rising from the depths.
Karkaroff involuntarily took a step back. Several Durmstrang students who hadn't yet boarded froze in their tracks, turning their heads to stare at the lake in shock.
It was coming up!