Even if we uncover the reason behind Harry Potter's disappearance, it won't be of much help in the current situation. No one knows where the Portkey transported Harry Potter—not even a general direction can be determined. Only the creator of that Portkey would know its destination and the distance it traveled...
"If I recall correctly, creating Portkeys requires an application to the Ministry of Magic. Perhaps we should investigate this avenue—find out if any wizards have recently applied to create one."
"Quickly, as Dumbledore suggested, find a wizard and verify this immediately."
"Yes!"
Dumbledore's gaze flickered as he looked at Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch before him. "At the same time, I must remind you that within the Ministry of Magic, there may be hidden..."
"Dumbledore, I'm here!"
"Fudge."
Whether by coincidence or not, just as Dumbledore was about to say something that might implicate the Ministry, Minister Cornelius Fudge arrived with several wizards and cut him off.
His drenched-in-sweat appearance left one wondering whether it came from rushing over from the Ministry or from realizing what Dumbledore had almost revealed. "I've been briefed on the situation before arriving. This is an accident, trust me. We'll find Harry soon."
"Trust you? If it weren't for..."
"An accident? I'm afraid not, Fudge. I don't see it that way."
Dumbledore reached out to stop Snape, who was moments away from drawing his wand, and pushed his glasses up slightly. His gaze hardened as he looked at Cornelius Fudge.
Faced with Dumbledore's stern demeanor and rebuttal, the Minister of Magic looked momentarily at a loss.
Showing him no courtesy, Dumbledore continued, "I can sense his power growing stronger. If we go in unprepared, it will surely lead to..."
"You're going to start with that again? Those impossible scenarios? Listen, you have no evidence!!"
The shrill interruption cut Dumbledore off. Cornelius Fudge's face flushed a deep red as if he had been provoked. Dumbledore studied him meaningfully from head to toe; though the man lacked ability, he had once been Dumbledore's closest friend.
Perhaps realizing he had overreacted, Cornelius Fudge wiped his brow and forced a smile that barely passed as one. "Perhaps you're mistaken. I mean... things aren't as dire as imagined."
"Perhaps, Fudge."
While the two wizards—both respected figures in the British magical world—exchanged words, not far away Snape, whose expression had been dark and stormy, and Karkaroff, who had been anxiously fidgeting, suddenly stiffened at the same moment.
They instinctively scanned the surrounding wizards. Only after confirming no one had noticed them did they abruptly turn toward each other. That single glance made them both catch the shock reflected in each other's eyes.
After confirming what they had both sensed, Karkaroff—now visibly more panicked—stumbled toward Snape under the puzzled stares of several wizards.
"Severus, this can't be... but I felt it, right? You must have felt it too... No, I have to hide... Yes! I must hide!"
"Calm down! He's dead."
"How am I supposed to calm down? If he hasn't returned, then how do you explain... this reaction!" Karkaroff's face twisted in fear as he let out a low, hoarse cry. He seemed completely unable to hear Snape's words. Clearly, something had rattled the Durmstrang Headmaster to the core.
Looking closely now, one could see that both Karkaroff and Snape were making the same motion.
They were deliberately covering their arms.
As if some secret lay hidden there...
...
As Draco emerged from the Quidditch pitch, two figures immediately stepped forward to meet him at the exit.
It was Pansy and Hermione, both of them looking far less childish than before. The moment Draco appeared, the tension on their faces finally eased.
They'd barely had time to celebrate his victory over the Thunderbird before Harry Potter's sudden disappearance threw everything into turmoil again, leaving Pansy and Hermione feeling frustrated.
In just one short match, their emotions had been dragged up and down like a rollercoaster. The constant rise and fall even made them feel a flicker of regret that Draco had ever become a Champion.
If he hadn't, maybe they wouldn't be caught up in so much trouble—let alone danger...
"Are you okay?"
"You alright?"
The same question came from different voices.
Their synchronized concern made the two girls glance briefly at each other before turning their focus back to Draco.
Judging by Draco's bright, energized appearance, their worries were clearly unnecessary.
But while Hermione hovered nearby, Pansy—being his childhood friend—showed absolutely no hesitation. She immediately reached out to check him over, practically leaning right into his chest.
She only meant to confirm he wasn't injured, but watching her hands roam insistently over Draco's body made Hermione, who had already realized her own feelings, twitch at the eye. Her cheeks puffed slightly in irritation.
Was this supposed to be a challenge?
"Are you a puppy greeting its master? Get your hands off him!"
"Huh? What's wrong with it? Or are you..."
"I am NOT. I don't—Don't say that!"
"Oh~"
Pansy's drawn-out tone made Hermione clench her fists and glare at her, fierce yet undeniably cute.
Draco, ignoring both their bickering and the subtle tension between them, snapped out of his thoughts. He lowered the arms he'd been unconsciously folding and looked toward Pansy.
"Over there. Any movement?"
The riddle-like question made Pansy blink. She'd been busy giving Hermione a provocative look and didn't immediately catch Draco's meaning.
Hermione, on the other hand, glanced at Draco in confusion, noting the seriousness on his face.
"Over there..."
When was the last time she'd heard him say those words?