0365 Gathering

Words : 1040 Updated : Oct 9th, 2025

0365 Gathering 'Igor Karkaroff, the headmaster of Durmstrang?' In previous years, Bryan had traveled extensively across Europe. During his time in Germany, he had also heard local wizards discussing Durmstrang and its current headmaster, Igor Karkaroff. As is well-known among the wizarding community, Durmstrang stands out as the most unscrupulous and controversial of the three legendary wizarding schools on the European continent. This school still retains many traditional teaching methods. By 'traditional,' it means the school's attitude towards magic is more inclined towards that of traditional wizards, steeped in a philosophy that blurs the boundaries between the dark and white magic, treating them with an unsettling nonchalance. It was within this unorthodox and morally ambiguous teaching environment that dangerous and notorious wizards like the infamous Gellert Grindelwald were nurtured. The current headmaster, Igor Karkaroff, has taken Durmstrang's 'liberal' approach to new and unsettling extremes. There are some rumors that he tacitly approves professors to teach dark magic at the school. Furthermore, There is also hearsay that Karkaroff himself was once a Death Eaters. Judging from the palpable aura of resistance and disgust emanating from the Barty Crouch, these rumors seem to hold some credibility. Barty's indifferent demeanor, however, did little to dissuade the recently awakened Karkaroff, whose face remained etched with a warm, inscrutable smile as he smoothly shifted his gaze towards Bryan. A momentary flicker of puzzlement flashed across his face, quickly replaced by dawning recognition as he assessed the young man standing behind Barty Crouch, who, judging by his age, appeared to be a subordinate of sorts. "If my eyes don't deceive me—" Karkaroff purred, a cunning glint flickering in his piercing blue eyes as he extended his hand past Barty towards Bryan, his tone laced with an undercurrent of peculiarity. "This must be the esteemed head of Hogwarts's student security office, Mr. Bryan Watson?" "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Headmaster Karkaroff," Bryan responded, his face etched with a solemn smile as he grasped Karkaroff's rough, calloused hand in a firm handshake. "Ah, I didn't expect Dumbledore to actually send you forth," Karkaroff remarked smoothly, his lips curving into a serpentine smile. "It seems he is truly determined to host the Triwizard Tournament this time, Professor Watson." "Your name resonates even within the halls of Durmstrang," Karkaroff continued, his tone carrying a subtle undercurrent of intrigue. "Recently, the young minds at our school were all busy discussing how you single-handedly defeated Fenrir Greyback and his pack of wolves. They couldn't believe that a single wizard could slay so many werewolves all by himself. They, and my staff, are utterly captivated by your mastery of the Fiendfyre—ah, I mean the 'Spirit Fire.' It is certainly an intriguing and formidable magic, is it not?" "Haha, it's merely a trivial trick, not worthy of mentioning," Bryan said with a faint smile, though his eyes remained watchful and guarded. "But I didn't expect to be so warmly welcomed at Durmstrang. I will mention this to Dumbledore when I return. If he doesn't offer me a raise, I will threaten to accept a teaching position at Durmstrang instead," The two newcomers were both highly conspicuous figures, drawing immediate attention from all those present. Madam Maxime towered even taller than Hagrid, and she was much leaner, making her seem even more imposing – so much so that she was forced to duck her head to pass through the spacious entrance. Beside Madam Maxime stood a girl of exceptional temperament. She appeared to be about the same age as Percy, with a waterfall of shimmering silver hairs cascading down her back, reaching almost to her waist. In terms of sheer presence and temperament, this young woman was essentially on par with Cliodna, though she lacked some of the natural charm. To the other guests in attendance, Bryan himself cut quite the striking figure amidst the banquet hall. Among the assembled wizards and witches, the majority of whom appeared to be well over 40 years of age, he stood out as a youthful presence. His bearing was upright, exuding an aura of confidence. Whenever someone met his pale violet gaze, their soul would tremble, as if glimpsing an abyss that could freeze it. "That sly old fox Dumbledore has sent us a formidable new representative, Madam Maxime—" Karkaroff said, his mouth curving into a smile utterly devoid of humor as he gestured towards Bryan. "Bryan Watson. I'm certain you've become familiar with his reputation. He is a truly intimidating opponent. I fear we may have already lost the advantage before the contest has even begun." Upon hearing these words, Bryan gave a subtle sidelong glance at Karkaroff, a flicker of thunder passing through his emotionless eyes. Just as Karkaroff tried to sow the seeds of discord, he suddenly felt a tightness constricting his chest, and his grip on Bryan's arm instinctively loosened. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Watson—" Madam Maxime greeted him with a relatively friendly smile, extending her large, ring-adorned hand towards him. "I have heard much about the amazing deeds and accomplishments you have achieved. They are truly impressive feats, from all accounts." "Just a stroke of luck, really—" Bryan said, raising his hand to his cheek in a modest gesture as he grasped Madam Maxime's extended hand in a handshake. He then politely nodded his head towards the keenly observing Fleur Delacour. He was about to offer a formal greeting, but at that moment, a commotion from the main stage of the banquet hall drew his attention. A troupe of elegantly attired ladies floated onto the stage through a side door, each one holding a musical instrument in her hands. They ascended the stage via the side stairs with an almost ethereal grace, surrounded by a soft, pink radiance and the gentle fluttering of translucent fairy wings. Once assembled on the stage, each of them took their seat and began tuning their violin or other instruments in preparation for their performance. "The Woodland Fairy Troupe," Fleur Delacour explained to Bryan in a voice as sweet and melodious as the ringing of silver bells. "They are quite famous throughout France." ******************************* For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

0365 Gathering

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