Fleur flinched at her younger sister's words. Unlike Gabrielle, she knew better than to provoke Leonie. Veela were notoriously short-tempered, prone to transforming into harpies when angered. Their grandmother Leonie, whose name meant "lion-like courage," was particularly volatile. Years of practice had granted her a veneer of gentility, but Gabrielle's disrespect in front of others was sure to earn her a scolding.
As expected, Leonie stiffened, a subtle heat radiating from her before she suppressed it. She picked up Gabrielle with a saccharine smile. "Come now, little Gabrielle. We mustn't bother Professor Riddle."
Gabrielle, oblivious, began to protest but was silenced by Leonie's intense sapphire eyes. Fleur internally mourned for her sister. She's probably fainted from sheer terror.
Leonie, cradling Gabrielle, turned back to Tom with a polite smile. "Professor Riddle, are you here for the opera as well?"
"What other conceivable purpose could there be? Are you implying I look like a bandit?"
"..." Leonie forced a smile.
Fleur, ever the diplomat, jumped in. "Grandmother adores Muggle opera. She brings us whenever she can. We've seen this performance several times. Grandmother would be happy to share her insights, Professor Tom… and myself, of course," she added. "Perhaps we could join you? A larger group might make for a more… interesting experience."
Leonie, who had briefly considered Fleur her savior, shot her a look of resentment. She was starting to realize that she may have overestimated Fleur's worth, and certainly didn't want to spend any more time than necessary with the Dark Lord.
Tom's acceptance extinguished any hope she harbored. "That would be delightful."
Fleur beamed, eager to escort Tom and his companions to their private box, which offered a superior view. First impressions are key.
"But what about Professor Snape, sir?" Luna asked, ever the compassionate soul.
Malfoy, recovering his composure, waved dismissively. "My godfather's a wizard. He'll find us."
Hermione started to object. "But…"
"No buts! He's my godfather! Do as I say!" Malfoy declared, attempting to end the discussion.
"But he's already here," Hermione finished.
"..." Malfoy felt a chill run down his spine as he turned slowly. "Godfather, it's not what you think…"
"Ha." Snape's frigid smile shattered Malfoy's fragile composure.
Thankfully, Snape only glared, presumably planning a future punishment, but at least there was no immediate threat of pain.
Ignoring the relieved Malfoy, Snape eyed Tom and the others. He asked me to buy tickets, then ditches me! He glared at Leonie, idly wondering how to acquire some Veela hair.
...
In the ornate corridor, Cassandra gazed at the dazzling chandelier, then turned to Tom. "You mentioned finding some interesting 'little things'…" She glanced at the Delacour trio. "You weren't referring to them, were you?"
The Delacours exchanged puzzled glances, wondering if Tom had somehow discovered their intentions beforehand.
Tom shook his head minutely. "No." He had seen them, but they were not what he was referring to.
"Then why did you agree to come along?" Nagini hissed, confused. She doubted Tom had any real interest in Veela.
"Because it seemed… interesting."
Dumbledore's training has given Tom an alarming talent for cryptic pronouncements.
The group bristled slightly. Building anticipation, only to deliver a meaningless response?
"…" Fine, keep your secrets.
Cassandra, annoyed, moved on. "So, what's this 'interesting thing'? Did you find another Voldemort lurking about?"
"Oh, no, nothing of the sort." Tom seemed unperturbed by the reference. "It's a bomb."
"Oh, a bomb… wait, what? What did you find in the opera house?"
Everyone, including Leonie, reacted with alarm. Only Nagini and Snape remained relatively calm.
"A bomb in the opera house?!" How can he be so blase? Oh right, for the Dark Lord, a bomb is a mere toy… but for the rest of us, it's rather dangerous!
"We can't watch the opera!" Leonie had no idea how many bombs were planted, but feared they could obliterate the building. I need to get my granddaughters out of here.
"Should I search for them?" Snape's expression was grim. He was ready to locate the devices at Tom's command.
"That will not be necessary," Tom replied, his gaze fixed back the way they came. "Because they have already arrived."
As the words left his mouth…
BOOM—!
The opera house shuddered violently.
Leonie desperately shielded her two granddaughters. Cassandra, Nagini, and Snape were indifferent to such petty attacks and were able to defend themselves easily. Hermione and Luna's magic was serviceable, but Harry and Malfoy were simply liabilities.
When the chaos subsided, Leonie surveyed the damage.
The good news: the bombs were weak; the opera house hadn't collapsed yet.
The bad news: the bombs had been strategically placed and detonated. Chandeliers lay in shards, sculptures were pulverized, the grand staircase had collapsed, and even structural pillars were buckling. The opera house was on the verge of collapse, teetering precariously.
The worse news: with a deafening crash, a wall disintegrated, revealing a horde of grotesque dwarves charging towards them. "Elves?!"
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