"You're doing construction work?" Krum asked.
"Something like that. Still, thanks for the help. Shame you're not from our school—otherwise I could've given you some extra points." As Kasenhis spoke, the mechanical arms behind him kept moving nonstop.
If one transmission shaft wasn't strong enough, then he'd just add more of them—quantity could solve quality.
Meanwhile, Krum stared at the man in front of him. There wasn't the slightest hint of a fan's excitement on Kasenhis's face—just pure enthusiasm for construction, a body covered in mechanical arms… and a faint trace of awkwardness.
Wait—something wasn't right. Mechanical arms?
Krum blinked and took a closer look. Behind Kasenhis, more than ten mechanical arms were wildly flailing around. For a moment, he thought he was seeing things.
He rubbed his eyes and looked again. Okay, that's better—there weren't more than ten arms… there were exactly ten.
But that was still absolutely insane!
Krum glanced once more at the chaotic tangle of arms behind Kasenhis, then at the professor's politely awkward smile, and began to doubt his own assumptions.
After all, Alchemy was a purely theoretical subject—its professors shouldn't have much interest in something like Quidditch. Not everyone could be both an academic and an athlete like he was.
Still, his straightforward athlete's nature got the better of him, and he asked bluntly, "Are you my fan?"
Kasenhis awkwardly rubbed his nose. "Yeah, right, of course—Viktor Krum, Italy's finest Seeker. How could I not be your fan?"
"I'm on the Bulgarian team… and I'm German," Krum replied, now the one rubbing his nose in embarrassment.
"Oh… oh, my apologies. I'm just not that curious about the private lives of public figures," Kasenhis said smoothly, showcasing his high emotional intelligence.
"..."
Krum nodded. The response was pleasant, polite—like a spring breeze. After all, dealing with an overly enthusiastic fan could be exhausting…
Well, actually, exhaustion had nothing to do with it.
He was just now realizing that Kasenhis had never been his fan. From the very beginning, this had all been a misunderstanding born entirely of his own wishful thinking.
In short, it felt as if a bright red nose clip had been pinched right onto the tip of his pride.
As for that "passionate shout" this Alchemy Professor had made on camera during the Quidditch World Cup—it was probably just for show, part of whatever performance he'd been putting on.
"...Well, goodbye," Krum said awkwardly.
"Goodbye," Kasenhis replied, sounding almost relieved.
Krum walked away with his head down, a deep sense of defeat weighing on him. Normally, he was a calm and composed person—but today, the one time he'd taken the initiative, he'd lost so completely it was almost tragic.
Kasenhis scratched his head, shrugged, and went right back to his grand construction project.
By evening, the Great Hall was packed.
Students from all four Hogwarts houses, plus the visiting schools, and nearly every adult wizard were sitting down, feasting together.
"Where's Kasen today? Normally he's the most enthusiastic one at dinner when nothing else is going on," Dumbledore asked.
"You said it yourself—when nothing else is going on," Snape replied dryly.
"So he is busy with something?" Dumbledore asked.
TREMBBBLLLEEE...
The next second, the entire hall trembled violently. Dumbledore frowned, then glanced toward the windows lining the hall. Through the glass, he saw the base of a tower—moving.
"Ahh… Professor McGonagall, would you mind confirming whether that's the base of the Gryffindor Tower?" he asked.
On the other side, Professor McGonagall took one look—and instantly transformed into the very image of The Scream painting, clutching her face with both hands. "KASEN! WHAT IS HE DOING?!"
Everyone else, too, had spotted it through the windows: a massive structure floating in the air, shifting position as if trying to find just the right spot to settle...
"What the bloody hell is that?" Ron leaned against the windowsill, staring blankly in disbelief.
"Looks like… your tower just stood up," said a girl in a Beauxbatons uniform, leaning curiously against the window.
"Oh, I can see that just fine—uh, I mean, I'm Ron Weasley. And you are?" Ron started to reply automatically, ready to toss out his usual sarcastic remark, but stopped short the moment he saw who had spoken.
"…You may call me Delacour," said Fleur Delacour.
"Oh, that's your first name?"
"That's my surname."
"Oh, right. Then your first name's Fleur, isn't it?" Ron asked, forcing a smile as the conversation instantly plunged into awkward territory.
"…"
"Uh… why aren't you saying anything?"
"…"
Meanwhile, Kasenhis was using his mechanical arms to secure himself to the outer wall of the Gryffindor Tower.
One hand gripped his remote control as he looked down toward the ground, carefully guiding the foundation to slowly descend into the massive crater below.
Boom!
Another loud crash shook the castle. Dumbledore took a deep breath and suddenly began to regret ever approving that headache-inducing project.
Over on the other side, Karkaroff leaned over quietly and whispered, "Dumbledore, what exactly is Professor Kasen doing right now? He's not… trying to intimidate us, is he?"
Dumbledore gave Karkaroff a sidelong glance and clicked his tongue—a look that clearly said, You? Really? Have you forgotten what happened in Chapter 204?
Karkaroff, feeling thoroughly deflated, slunk back to his group of students, where he happened to bump into Krum.
"Krum, you and your classmates will be spending most of the term studying here at Hogwarts alongside the Hogwarts students, correct?"
Krum nodded. "That's right."
"Good. When you study Alchemy, make sure you actually learn something. Don't worry about losing face—if there's something you don't understand, just ask," Karkaroff said, patting Krum on the shoulder.
"Mm."
Meanwhile, after seven or eight exhausting attempts, Kasenhis finally managed to lower the tower's foundation back into that poor, battered crater.
"Finally done," he muttered with relief, wiping the sweat from his brow as he landed back on solid ground.
Waiting for him, however, was Professor McGonagall—arms crossed, expression unreadable, clearly expecting him.
The moment Kasenhis saw her, he instinctively straightened up, nerves on edge. "Professor, you know about the project—we got your approval for this plan!"
McGonagall gave him a strange look. "I didn't come to scold you. I came to ask about your progress."
"…So you're not rushing me for lesson plans anymore—you're rushing me about this now?"
_________
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