As the Ship in a Bottle revealed its true form and drifted toward the shore, several Durmstrang students watched in stunned disbelief.
Although it was a size smaller than their own vessel, a ship contained entirely within a giant glass bottle was perhaps even more awe-inspiring. Not to mention, this ship could actually fly.
Even Karkaroff stared at the Ship in a Bottle for quite a while before finally turning his attention back to Maurise.
He spoke in a tone that was neither warm nor cold. "Hogwarts certainly provides some interesting modes of transportation."
"Actually," Maurise shrugged, "this is my personal property."
Karkaroff raised an eyebrow, a hint of genuine surprise finally breaking through his composed facade.
The ship before them was clearly an incredibly rare and precious magical artifact, undoubtedly worth a fortune. Even considering Maurise's considerable income as the famous designer of the Phantom, owning such a thing still seemed excessively extravagant. Why would a student ever need to buy a ship like this?
Karkaroff silently formed his judgment: Maurise Black was highly likely a vain and ostentatious individual.
Just then, Krum descended the gangplank of the Durmstrang ship, his expression as sullen and brooding as ever. Seeing the massive Ship in a Bottle, he too paused in slight surprise, but he quickly averted his gaze and walked over to stand beside Karkaroff.
Maurise seized the opportunity. "Krum, is your meeting over? Care to discuss that flying broomstick now?"
His initial impression of Krum was relatively positive.
Krum glanced at the Ship in a Bottle, then at Karkaroff, and gave a small nod. "Yes."
He was actually quite willing to speak with Maurise. In a way, they were cut from the same cloth: both had achieved massive fame at a young age. Perhaps they would find some common ground.
"Remember to be back before noon," Karkaroff instructed, clapping Krum on the shoulder.
Under the watchful eyes of Karkaroff and several Durmstrang students, Krum walked steadily over to Maurise. Maurise then led him to the underside of the Ship in a Bottle.
"After you."
Maurise smiled, stepped aside, and gestured invitingly.
Krum tilted his head back, staring up at the massive glass bottle in confusion. "How do we enter?"
His English was halting, and he mostly relied on short, simple sentences to convey his meaning.
"Just place your hand against it," Maurise instructed.
He had recently spent time improving the entrance method for the Ship in a Bottle, making it far more convenient than its initial design.
With a hint of skepticism, Krum slowly reached out and pressed his hand against the cold, smooth glass. The moment he made contact, a bizarre sensation rippled up his arm and spread through his entire body.
In the very next second, he floated upward like a phantom, drifting uncontrollably toward the bottle.
Just as he braced himself for the impact against the hard glass, the expected collision never came. He merely felt as if he had passed through an incredibly thin layer of cool, damp morning mist.
Before he could even register his surprise, a gentle force nudged him from behind, pushing him through the wooden hull of the ship in the exact same manner.
When his feet finally touched solid ground again, he was standing on a plush blue carpet.
Looking around, he found himself in an exceptionally spacious room resembling a cozy living room. There were several large sofas and a coffee table neatly arranged with a tea set. Most eye-catching, however, was a large, rectangular metal box with a glass screen, the purpose of which he could not even begin to guess.
"Amazing," Krum muttered under his breath.
"It is, isn't it?" Maurise floated up beside him with a grin, teasing gently. "Perhaps you could try using a slightly more expansive vocabulary to describe your feelings."
"Er... astonishing?" Krum struggled for a moment before finally squeezing out another word.
"Your English still needs a bit of work, sir," Maurise said breezily. "It is a pity I do not speak Bulgarian. I just hope it will not hinder our conversation too much. Ah, if only there were a spell that could instantly translate languages."
He pointed casually to the sofa. "Please, take a seat. There is tea on the table, as well as a few Muggle beverages. I am going to grab something quickly; I will be right back."
With that, he turned and disappeared down a nearby hallway.
After sitting down, Krum let out a long breath as he stared at the large metal box directly in front of him. His typically tense expression gradually began to relax.
This truly was a wonderful place. It was quiet, secluded, and completely free from the annoying, scrutinizing stares of others. Contrary to what most people assumed, he intensely disliked being the center of attention.
Just as Krum was silently appreciating the tranquility, the heavy thud of approaching footsteps echoed from behind. He turned around, assuming Maurise had returned.
However, the sight that greeted him wildly exceeded his expectations.
A skeleton! A completely pitch-black skeleton!
Krum's pupils shrank to pinpricks. He bolted up from the sofa, his hand already reaching for the wand at his waist.
"Meow~"
A sudden, sharp meow broke the tension. Only then did Krum notice a black cat perched squarely on top of the skeleton's skull. It was appraising him with lazy indifference, its tail swishing slowly back and forth.
Krum was momentarily stunned.
"Relax."
Maurise's voice sounded from behind the skeleton. He was now carrying a large wooden chest. "These are my pets, they are completely harmless."
"Is that Dark Magic?" Krum asked, staring intently at the skeleton, his tone laced with tension.
Maurise shot him a strange look. "I assumed Durmstrang students would be entirely accustomed to Dark Magic. I am afraid you are mistaken; this is not a construct of the Dark Arts."
He walked forward, casually swiped the black cat off the skeleton's head with one hand, and shoved the skeleton into a nearby storage closet. He then turned back to Krum with a warm smile. "Just ignore him. Let us get back to discussing your flying broomstick."
Krum's expression finally softened slightly. "Alright."
Maurise knew Krum's English proficiency wasn't quite up to the task of forming long, complex sentences, so he took the lead and got straight to the point. "Krum, what kind of broomstick are you looking for?"
"You can call me Viktor," Krum said.
"Very well, Viktor," Maurise nodded amicably. "What specific requirements do you have for this broomstick?"
"Greater speed," Krum said firmly, having clearly given the matter considerable thought. "I can feel it. The Phantom is capable of going much faster, but its creator... intentionally limited its potential."
Before he could finish his sentence, his eyes widened slightly.
He watched as Maurise hefted the large wooden chest and unceremoniously tipped it upside down.
Broomsticks clattered and crashed out of the chest, piling up on the carpet until they formed a small mountain. At a rough glance, there had to be at least thirty or forty of them.
"You want more speed, right?" Maurise said, already rummaging through the pile. "When I was first designing the Phantom, I created numerous prototypes. The current Phantom Mark I is simply the most balanced of the bunch. The faster models were much harder to control and not suitable for mass production, so I just kept them here."
Krum stared blankly at the heap of broomsticks. "You made all of these?"
Only at this moment did he fully, truly believe that Maurise was the actual designer of the Mirage.
"Yes. Making broomsticks is quite a tedious process," Maurise said casually. "Ah, here we are. Found it."
He stood up and tossed a broomstick that looked nearly identical to the Phantom Mark I over to Krum. "This one is the fastest."
Krum caught the broomstick and examined it meticulously. He then looked up at Maurise, choosing his words carefully. "I still hope... to commission a truly custom-made broomstick. In return, I will pay a very fair price."
...
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