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The Durmstrang students had put on quite a show. Fire and flips aside; everyone was amazed by the performance, not by the pupils' talent and skill but rather their crown jewel, Victor Krum. He was a world-famous quidditch player, and the gentlemen in the room seemed more skittish towards his presence than the women. Nevertheless, Fleur whispered the question, "how many girls do you propose will ask him to the Yule Ball?"
"I already know who I am going with," I replied, glancing over to Timothée, who was goggling over Victor. We both giggled and led the Beauxbaton students toward the table closest to us. Our Hogwarts peers had blue robes draped over each of their shoulders. I noticed they had remained the most formal out of the people here, so Fleur and I directed everyone there.
We sat down with grace, and all the blue-robed Hogwarts students were gossiping excitedly with one another. With the advantage I had, I examined the students from the foreign schools. Durmstrang looked rather intimidating with their blood-red robes, fur hats, and jackets alongside their dark and sharp features. That's when I decided that the delight of meeting Victor Krum wasn't worth pushing through those older men and women. Next were the other tables filled with red, green, and yellow-robed students. There was more diversity between the Hogwarts occupants, but there were many likely families doing schooling in Scotland.
One particular set of features kept popping up at the red table. Freckles, scarlet hair, dingy robes, and brown eyes. Except for one curveball that had blue eyes like the periwinkle Crayola crayon. Another thing that stuck out was the duplicate of a boy that looked around my age. The two brothers, no doubt, were shorter than some of their peers beside them and stocker too but still could tower over the earlier years. With their freckles in perfect alignment with each other and their hair having the same thick waves in it, it was almost impossible to tell them apart. The only subtle difference was that one was taller than the other, who was also rounder on the face and shoulders. My fascination spiked. How could two people, even identical twins, which they had to be, look so alike?
By now, I was staring intently at the brothers and had missed the arrival of a feast. It wasn't until one of them looked up from grabbing a dinner roll (the thicker one) and met my eyes. The upper half of his body froze, and a crooked smile appeared on his lips. His elbow rammed into his twin on the left of him, who looked his way with knitted eyebrows. My cheeks flushed a deep crimson when the other moved his gaze to where his brother was pointing. The taller sibling grinned and winked at me.
I became totally flustered at that moment that I had to break eye contact with them and try to start up a conversation with Fleur while grabbing something to eat. During our meal, I would occasionally glance up and see the two brothers joking with their friends. But one time, I caught the hazel orbs of Timothée, who was pretending to listen to a friend of his when in reality he was leering at me. I smiled at my boyfriend and took another bite of my food.
