Sorcerer Supreme at Hogwarts (English Versión)

"An Unexpected Encounter"

"So, a Prince Charming, huh…? Well, I'm dressed in blue, so… does that count? Either way, a Prince Charming knocks on your door, and what do you do? A: Cry with joy. B: Invite him in. C: Slam the door in his face out of fear and disgust."

"Well, I would have preferred option B. That would be the most polite thing to do, right? So why am I standing in front of this door that just closed in my face, having an internal monologue for the last ten minutes?"

"Maybe I should leave, but I fear for my life if I make the wrong choice here. I remember when my friends ran away while Fleur was angry. The next time I saw them, I thought I saw it rain blood! Luckily, we managed to stop her before anyone got seriously hurt. And why did I end up getting hit too?! Why?!"

"But don't get me wrong. Although Fleur has her moments of fury, she later feels guilty and turns incredibly sweet. She's also a very well-behaved girl. It's not normal to see her angry… or at least that's what my friends say. Then why do I always see her angry? Could it be that they're wrong and I'm the problem?"

"Ah, in any case, this is my fault. I forgot to send her letters. Damn, don't tell me I forgot her birthday! No, no. I remember sending her a bouquet of flowers, just as my grandmother advised me. Though sending flowers to a girl was a bit embarrassing, Grandma's stare was terrifying. It even reminded me of Dumbledore looking at a future Harry. I hope I'm not being raised like a pig for slaughter, as Snape would say. After all, she's my grandmother."

"Alright, I'm getting off track. Gryffindor, lend me your strength! Haha, how ridiculous. Alright, enough. Time to be brave."

Finishing his monologue, Stephen took a deep breath to steel himself and stepped toward the door.

Knock, knock. "Fleur, I know you're behind the door. Open up, please. I don't have much time before I have to leave," Stephen said softly through the door.

"Fleur? Flopy? Flury? Fuchsia? Haha, come on, Belle, open up," Stephen called, using the silly nicknames he used to tease Fleur when they were younger. Belle was the nickname he had given her since her full name was Fleur Isabelle Delacour.

"Shut up already, idiot! If you have to leave, then go. Stop bothering me," said an angry voice from the other side.

"Come on, Belle. If this is about the letters, I couldn't send many because I was busy training for the dueling tournament."

After a soft sound from the door, it cracked open slightly, revealing only a platinum blonde lock of hair and a single, beautiful greenish-blue eye.

"What dueling tournament?" Fleur asked softly, intrigued, as she loved watching dueling competitions with her family. She even dreamed of participating in one when her parents allowed it.

"The tournament held here in France for under-14s! I competed in it," Stephen said, knowing this would get Fleur's attention since she loved magical duels and battles.

"I was there, and I didn't see any… wait, you! You're Steve Rogers, the one who used that combat magic!" Fleur exclaimed, throwing the door wide open as she realized Steve's true identity. He was still wearing the same robes from the duel.

"You created that magic?!" Fleur asked, momentarily forgetting her previous anger.

"Yeah. Actually, I just had to fix a few things," Stephen said, somewhat relieved.

"Awesome! Give me a book," Fleur demanded with a huge smile, extending her hand expectantly.

"Haha, I missed you too, Belle," Stephen said, looking at her for a moment before pulling her into a big hug.

"Fine, give me a book, and you can go. I'm still mad at you," Fleur said, trying to hide her embarrassment, though her flushed face wasn't helping.

"Alright, alright. Here's this book, and this other one explains the martial arts and training methods for using Eldritch Magic more efficiently. This one won't be made public, so keep it for yourself, and if you want, share it with your family," Stephen said, handing her another book with body techniques that connected to magic.

(Maybe I should make a deal with magical ministries so Aurors can train with this too.) Stephen thought, considering that most wizards disliked physical training, but Aurors would need it to be more effective.

"But these training exercises look just like the ones we did as kids. I even still do them," Fleur commented as she skimmed through the training book.

"Yeah, I've been training you all since we were kids so you could use Eldritch Magic more effectively. You should be able to use it well, but you need to practice linking martial arts with magic," Stephen explained.

"Though I doubt you'll have much trouble since you picked up martial arts incredibly fast—so fast that even I struggle to beat you," Stephen admitted.

"Obviously, little Stepy. Even if you started before me, I can easily catch up to you," Fleur said, placing a hand on her hip, lifting her chest, and raising her chin with a smug tone.

"Alright, Belle, I have to go. I need to get back to Professor Flitwick. Don't worry, I'll be back for Christmas. Oh, and take this," Stephen said, placing a beautiful silver double ring, elegantly adorned, into Fleur's hand, leaving her stunned before she became deeply flustered.

"This ring is for Last Leaf Magic. It creates a portal. It's easier to learn than Apparition, and you won't end up with your body in pieces while practicing. To link it to you, just touch it with a strand of your hair, and that's it. The book explains where you can and can't use it," Stephen quickly explained, ignoring Fleur's embarrassment, which quickly turned into anger.

"I got it! Now leave already, idiot!" Fleur shouted, furious, as she turned around, stormed inside, and slammed the door in Stephen's face—only to immediately crouch down and cover her face in embarrassment.

"Idiot?" questioned Madame Delacour, peeking from behind the staircase, a teasing smile lighting up her face.

Beside her, little Gabrielle peeked out as well, her innocent smile matching her mother's. "Who? Who?" she asked before running off with her mother while Fleur, flustered, chased after them.

Meanwhile, Stephen turned away after the door was slammed shut. As he walked away, he heard shouting behind him but didn't understand what was being said. He headed toward where Flitwick was waiting for him, feeling an odd sense of passive hostility. However, since he didn't feel any intent to harm him—only a silent resentment, like that of a florist catching someone stealing flowers—he simply continued on his way.

"Am I imagining things?" Stephen wondered, glancing around and seeing nothing, before shrugging and moving on.

On the mansion's second floor, a man glared at Stephen in anger before sighing in resignation and turning back inside to calm his wife and daughters before they wrecked the house again.

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