The wizarding world was far from peaceful. The Cavendish family had launched a three-pronged campaign, dispatching two separate forces from England to systematically consolidate smaller magical territories under Erwin's directives. Their stated objectives were twofold: to bring these independent regions under Ministry of Magic jurisdiction—flushing out the dark wizards who fled there to escape justice—and to secure two specific artifacts Erwin desperately required. Only Old Tom and Lucius Malfoy knew the true nature of these items.
Thanks to the reputation Erwin had meticulously cultivated, the native wizarding populations viewed the Cavendish intervention as a force of justice. It didn't particularly matter what their genuine intentions were; in the eyes of the public, everything the Cavendish family undertook was inherently righteous.
Time moved relentlessly forward. The atmosphere at Hogwarts grew increasingly tense; everyone understood the final confrontation was approaching.
Ten days later, on February 14th—Valentine's Day—the second phase of the tournament was set to conclude in just nine days. The Beauxbatons girls, holding the majority of parchment fragments, were growing increasingly anxious. Aside from Durmstrang's earlier failed attempt, no one had directly attacked them yet, but they knew they couldn't maintain their lead indefinitely. They needed to make a choice.
In the Beauxbatons competitors' lounge, Fleur frowned, torn with indecision. She looked at her teammates, who were buckling under the immense pressure of possessing the fragments. It was a classic case of "a commoner holding treasure"—a burden too heavy for them to bear safely. If this were Hogwarts or the East, they would have fought to defend their position. But the Beauxbatons delegation simply lacked the raw power.
Fleur gritted her teeth. "Wait here for me."
Without another word, she left the lounge.
Meanwhile, in the Kunlun and Hogwarts common rooms, Sunny Finch and Charlotte both stared at the clock on the wall with knowing expressions.
"What's happening?" Cedric asked, noticing the intensity.
Charlotte smiled faintly. "Beauxbatons should have reached their decision by now. They understand the fragments are a liability. The only viable option is to relinquish them."
"You mean they'll surrender them to us?" Cedric asked, his eyes lighting up with anticipation.
"Perhaps. Or to the East. It doesn't fundamentally matter," Charlotte corrected him calmly. "Once they relinquish control, the real battle begins. Everyone, prepare yourselves!"
The moment she spoke, the expressions of the Hogwarts competitors hardened, eyes burning with competitive spirit. Harry Potter, no longer the uncertain boy of the past but a warrior tempered by Charlotte's intensive training, was practically vibrating with anticipation. He was eager to test just how far his newfound strength could take him.
The atmosphere in the Kunlun lounge was identical; they were poised to strike.
Durmstrang, however, had largely conceded. After Sunny Finch's devastating ambush, they recognized that the East and Hogwarts operated on a completely different level than they had anticipated. They could potentially defeat Beauxbatons, but if they attempted to claim the fragments now, both powerhouses would simply eliminate them. So, the formidable students decided to observe and adapt to however events unfolded.
Fleur left the lounge and stood alone in the corridor, hesitating at the crossroads.
She knew they couldn't retain the parchment fragments. The East and Hogwarts had demonstrated remarkable restraint by not attacking directly, and it was time to be pragmatic. If she feigned ignorance, both powers would eventually overwhelm them. It was better to preserve what dignity remained.
But who should receive them?
She had considered splitting the fragments between the two powers, but that felt like a desperate attempt to hedge bets—a move that could easily backfire and trigger mutual suspicion.
To her left lay the path to the Kunlun lounge; to her right, the corridor leading to Hogwarts.
Fleur stood frozen, paralyzed by the weight of the choice before her.