Harry Potter: The Golden Viper

Moody never would have guessed that Bryan Watson's idea of "getting something to eat" would turn out like this - a rustic, spontaneous barbecue by the shores of the Black Lake on a chilly winter's eve.

With a simple wave, Bryan summoned a pair of house-elves and instructively ordered them to bring a charcoal grill, along with some glowing embers and skewers with chunks of juicy beef and tender lamb.

Displaying the incredible efficiency that house-elves were well-known for, Dobby and Reega appeared by the lakeshore in the blink of an eye, their arms were loaded with the various items Bryan had requested. After delicately setting the various objects down on the snow ground and offering polite, respectful bows, the two elves vanished into the swirling snow upon being told that their services were no longer required.

"Just a moment, Professor Moody—"

With a casual flick of Bryan's wrist, two sturdy logs emerged from the frozen earth like surfacing whales. Nimbly removing his dress robes to reveal white shirt and black trousers beneath, Bryan rolled up his sleeves. He plopped himself down on one of the logs with great delight and picked up a skewer with cubes of meat. Placing it on the smoking grill with a sizzle, he began cooking it while rotating the skewer.

This carefree, nonchalant behavior and the fluid, expert movements of Bryan's hands left Moody utterly flabbergasted in a daze of disbelief. He would bet his last galleon that if any other soul bore witness to this astonishing scene and captured it in a magical photograph or muggle video recording, it would undoubtedly become the talk of the wizarding world whenever Bryan Watson was discussed.

Delicate snowflakes waltzed and swirled through the sky, blanketing the grounds in a silver cloak that sparkled like crushed diamonds in the flickering firelight.

Not far away, the enchanting, dreamlike castle loomed out of the darkness, drawing every eye like a dazzling beacon. Little did the wild celebrators inside knew that the sparks twinkling along the shore of the Black Lake came from the renowned Bryan Watson grilling meat with his own two hands, like a common Muggle.

Shortly, an enticing aroma gradually flooded the cozy bubble of space enclosed by the radiating warmth of the glowing coals.

Moody wrinkled his nose and gazed hypnotically at the sizzling, browning meat on the grill, its golden juices were being seared out by the intense heat in a symphony of pops and crackles. Much to his own surprise, he found his mouth watering and belly rumbling.

"This is quite astonishing, Watson—"

Suppressing the sheer absurdity of the situation and the nearly irrepressible urge to burst out in hearty chuckles trying to bubble up from deep within his chest, Moody finally settled himself on the log beside Bryan with as much dignity as he could muster.

Glancing sidelong at Bryan's boyish face, now flushed a rosy kind by the dancing flames, Moody couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head.

"People would never imagine in their wildest dreams that a great, world-renowned wizard of your stature and prestige could also be such a master chef working over a crude campfire—"

"It's nothing—"

Bryan kept his eyes focused closely on the sizzling, dripping meat, as he drawled in a leisurely tone.

"Perhaps it may come as a shock to you, Professor Moody, but before I returned to Hogwarts, I spent two years wandering around various European countries. To get by, I occasionally ran errands for people. Sleeping rough in open air was a common occurrence—"

Moody pressed his lips together as if suppressing a smile at this revelation, but in the end, he managed to hold back his chuckle and gently nodded.

"That must have been an arduous and annoying time indeed, Watson—"

Moody said, his normally harsh, rough voice now sounding raspier than usual with a tinge of empathy.

Hoo—

As wizards inside the ice castle hooted and cheered, the silence between the two men stretched on for a span of about two minutes, broken only by the crackle of the glowing embers and the enticing sizzle of meat.

Bryan took the opportunity to sprinkle the browning chunks with spices and crushed salt crystals, before rolling the skewers to expose the other sides to the flame with the flicks of his wrist. After a few suspenseful moments, he plucked a particularly juicy-looking skewer from the grill and examined it carefully in the flickering light of the fire.

"Here, try this—"

Bryan passed the meat to Moody.

Momentarily dazed by this abrupt gesture, Moody nonetheless hastily raised a hand to accept it, nearly fumbling and dropping it in the process. As he gazed down at the sizzling meat before him, charred and caramelized by the flames in such a peculiar, unorthodox manner, an unfamiliar emotion welled up and took root in his heart - It brought a sense of satisfaction, yet also a tinge of nostalgia and unease.

Pop—

Bryan neatly unscrewed two bottles of butterbeer that he'd previously chilled in the snow. After passing one to Moody, he paid him no more mind, his attention was fixed only on his own portion. Piercing a few well-cooked chunks and bringing them to his mouth, Bryan tore the meat with delight, slurping the savory juices.

After finishing off a few skewers in the blink of an eye, he lifted the bottle to his lips and threw his head back, as he chugged the beer in thirsty gulps.

"Hah—"

With an air of relish, about a quarter of the bottle's contents vanished down Bryan's throat in one swig. Lowering the bottle, Bryan let out a hearty sigh of immense satisfaction, then narrowed his eyes to consider the bottle as if still not fully satisfied by the drink.

In obvious contrast, Moody had begun carefully nibbling on his meat with an air of elegance, his mouth meticulously munched each portion as if he were a posh pureblood dining in a fine restaurant. But Watson's display of enthusiasm and wildness swiftly disrupted his pitiful attempts at propriety.

Moody stared in shock at Watson through the hazy curtain of heat rising from the glowing embers. He could hardly believe it that the ever graceful and elegant Bryan Watson actually had this side to him.

Or perhaps... this was Bryan Watson's true nature, and the burden of his reputation forced him to disguise his genuine self?

"I still prefer Muggle beer—"

Bryan said pensively, not without a touch of regret as he thoughtfully swirled the remaining butterbeer in its bottle. His gaze briefly flickered towards Moody as he noticed he hadn't budged to drink his own. Arching one eyebrow, he said.

"Sinking your teeth into this smoky, juicy barbecued meat only reaches its perfection when paired with an ice-cold beer, Professor Moody. It's the only way to get the full experience, in my mind—"

"Oh, um—" Moody stammered, caught off guard. "I'll need to conjure up a glass first, Watson—"

"A glass? Oh no, you've got it all wrong, Professor!" Bryan exclaimed, waving a hand in denial. "Sipping butterbeer from a glass would ruin the ambiance of the whole situation. Just drink it as it's meant to be drunk - straight from the bottle!"

To be honest, Moody was somewhat reluctant and resistant, but for some reason, he was even more unwilling to go against Watson's request at this moment. So, he tilted his head back with resignation and took a sip, pressing the bottle's mouth to his lips.

The butterbeer Watson provided was chilled. In this bitter cold weather, the foamy liquid slid down his throat into his stomach like a knife, causing Moody to frown. But—

As the initial icy shock melted away and spread warmth through his chest, a peculiar sense of satisfaction swiftly followed in its trail, like sinking into a hot bath after a long day of trekking through snowy trenches. Quite without his permission, Moody felt a hum of pleasure escape his lips.

"A-hem! A most curious sensation indeed, Watson—" To hide his embarrassment, Moody quickly turned the hum into a heavy cough and asked in an exaggerated attempt at nonchalance, "Tell me, what far-flung corner of the world did you pick up this peculiar custom?"

Bryan did not speak but simply smiled casually. He turned his head and gazed out at the fluttering world, lost in thought. Seeing Watson fall silent, Moody also pursed his lips and quieted, staring at the snow-covered Hogwarts.

The fluffy blanket of snow drowned out all the clamor amidst the mountains and rivers. Although the ice castle remained lively and jubilant, with the students' laughter never ceasing and fireworks occasionally bursting above the square, by the lakeshore, one could only hear the monotonous howling of the wind. After listening for a while, filtering out the wind, the world seemed utterly peaceful, as if only the two of them remained.

Though the night was deep and the overcast sky held neither stars nor moon, the castle did not seem particularly dark. The snow drew in the dazzling light from the ice castle, dispersing a radiance all around and giving the pure white, desolate mountains and lush forests a touch more color.

"What do you think of life at Hogwarts, Professor Moody?"

Bryan's quiet question broke the contemplative silence. Without taking his eyes from the distant castle, he poked at the blazing coals with a long-handled set of tongs before setting another raw skewer on the grill.

"Oh." Moody blinked, startled out of his brooding reverie. "Mm, very good," he mumbled distractedly. Then, catching himself, he drew in a deep breath and forced his voice into a soothing eloquent tone. "It's quite nice here, Watson. No constant threat of danger lurking around every corner, waiting to snatch the very breath from your lungs. No vengeful enemies trailing your every step, hungry for your blood.

Our colleagues - Minerva, Filius, Pomona and the rest - are perfectly pleasant company. And the work, well, it's hardly demanding, is it? Flash a bit of wandwork, dazzle the students with a display of your true skill, and they'll be falling all over themselves to give you a standing ovation..."

"You're only seeing the surface, Professor Moody," Bryan interrupted, his tone pensive as he poked the glowing embers. A burst of sparks leapt into the air, blazing with brilliant glow before winking out of existence, snuffed by the cold.

In a calm voice, Bryan said, "In fact, for a thousand years, this ancient school has always been just one step away from collapse. The danger of destruction has continuously loomed over Europe's oldest magic school. Enemies hidden in the shadows, hoping for Hogwarts to disappear, are beyond counting."

Bryan's words were shocking, but Moody did not object in astonishment. He simply blinked as if having a realization, then cast his gaze toward the neighboring ancient castle.

"Over the centuries, the former Royal Wizard Society evolved into the Ministry of Magic, and the Royals were shut out of the Wizarding world, We've faced bloody goblin rebellions, clashed with savage werewolf packs, and narrowly avoided all-out war with the vampires. Even the centaur tribes once sought our downfall.

Time and time again, Hogwarts has staggered back from the cliffs of ruin, rising from the ashes of its own destruction like a phoenix's rebirth. In the end, those defeated opponents had no choice but to accept the bitter truth - that Hogwarts endures, unbroken and unbowed, that they couldn't destroy Hogwarts. Do you understand why that is, Professor?"

"What is it?"

Moody asked absentmindedly, still gazing at the ancient castle.

"Because Hogwarts is no longer just a school of witchcraft and wizardry," Bryan smiled and also looked toward the castle that had weathered the years. His voice carried a faint sense of emotion.

"The Hogwarts established by the four founders has become a kind of faith. It will always exist in people's hearts and countless people are willing to give their lives for this faith. Faith does not disappear, Professor. It doesn't necessarily have to be attached to a tangible organization to persist. It doesn't require the shelter of power and might to survive."

Moody had a thoughtful expression as Bryan continued, "There's also a very important point—"

He shifted his gaze from the castle to Moody, his pale purple eyes were deep as an abyss.

"Hogwarts never forgets...but she also never holds onto hatred."

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