Inside the tent, Silencing Charms muffled the outside world, reducing the footsteps and clamour to faint murmurs.
The thin fabric barrier created two distinct worlds.
The champions sat in heavy silence, each acutely aware of what awaited them.
All eyes turned to Wayne and Bagman as they entered. Fleur grasped Wayne's hand, steadying her nerves.
Sakura watched enviously from where she huddled fearfully in a corner.
Cassandra pressed her lips tightly together, her face pale as she clutched her wand like a talisman.
Ludo Bagman was wearing his Wasp team jersey again today. Unlike the others' gloomy expressions, he was in high spirits as he raised a purple silk bag.
"Time for the draw! Choose which dragon you'll face—there are eight different breeds. Oh yes, your task is to retrieve the golden egg!"
After speaking, Bagman looked at the champions' indifferent reactions and hesitated.
There was none of the expected terror or fear.
It almost felt... as if they'd known in advance.
Seeing no one paying him any attention, Bagman remained cheerful and finally turned to Fleur. "Ladies first, any objections?"
The boys shook their heads.
Fleur kept one hand clasped with Wayne's while the other reached into the bag, pulling out an exquisitely crafted dragon model—round and plump, its wings fluttering twice after being drawn out.
Its pearl-like scales shimmered with rainbow hues, and its pupil-less eyes were pure white.
"An Antipodean Opaleye?" Fleur's voice brimmed with delight.
Among the eight dragon breeds brought here, the Antipodean Opaleye was undoubtedly the weakest—the most beautiful and least aggressive of all dragon species.
To draw it from an eight-to-one chance—Fleur's luck today was truly remarkable.
"What do you think? Cute, isn't it? I made it these past few days," Wayne teased deliberately, easing her nerves.
"It really is adorable," Fleur smiled. "Can I keep it after the tournament?"
"Of course. I can make you one of every dragon breed."
Fleur happily kissed Wayne, force-feeding everyone a dose of affection.
"I want one too," Sakura timidly raised her hand, while Cassandra glanced over.
Wayne nodded with a smile. "Everyone gets one. Consider them souvenirs for participating in the Holy Grail War."
"I..." Cedric began, only for Wayne to cut him off with a sideways glance.
"Fine, I'll buy it, alright?"
At that moment, young Cedric bitterly regretted not being a girl—otherwise, he wouldn't be treated so differently.
"Ten Galleons, please."
"I'll pay you later," Cedric rolled his eyes.
Unexpectedly, Krum immediately produced the money. "I'll take one too."
Just like that, the tension dissipated.
The drawing ceremony turned into a sales pitch, and Bagman didn't dare voice any objections. Only after Wayne finished did he pass the bag to Sakura.
"Ah, a Chinese Fireball," Bagman looked at her pityingly—far from a good draw, ranking among the top three most dangerous.
Yet Sakura remained fairly composed, even running to Fleur's side to compare their dragon models.
Cassandra reached in next, drawing a Swedish Short-Snout.
Then came the boys' turn.
Cedric—a Welsh Green, a middling dragon.
Buso—a Romanian Longhorn, highly aggressive but clumsier than others.
Vladimir—a Hebridean Black, notoriously temperamental with fierce territorial instincts.
Harry—a Hungarian Horntail.
When he revealed his model, everyone looked at the youngest competitor with sympathy.
What rotten luck—an eight-to-one chance, and he'd drawn the most vicious Hungarian Horntail.
Harry had learned quite a bit about dragons these past few days. His mind first went blank, then flooded with regret—regret for not having Sirius help him reserve a burial plot earlier.
Then he began cursing Moody internally.
Only Wayne was staring at Krum with an odd expression.
Krum was toying with a Norwegian Ridgeback model, a faint smile playing on his lips. The Norwegian Ridgeback was moderately dangerous, and he was quite satisfied with his luck. All he needed to do was avoid the flames and its hardened spine—nothing too complicated.
To help the champions identify their opponents, Wayne hadn't modelled it after Norbert but kept it as a standard Ridgeback.
He just hoped Krum would stay calm later and not act recklessly.
Otherwise, he'd be finished in this match.
Once everyone had drawn their lots, Bagman clapped his hands cheerfully. "Excellent! Once the audience is seated, you'll hear my voice. Come out in the order of the numbers on your dragon models. Good luck."
With that, he left the tent.
...
Outside.
The first Welsh Green had already been escorted to its designated spot by the dragon handlers.
Surrounded by high platforms, an artificial pit had been constructed in the centre, dense with rocks and spanning hundreds of feet in diameter. When the dragon appeared, a massive wave of gasps rose from the stands.
Many in the crowd had likely never seen a real dragon in their lives. The overwhelming pressure it exuded made them sweat for the champions.
Newt and Tina were seated in the special guest section. Observing the Welsh Green's condition, Newt gave an almost imperceptible nod.
"This dragon's in a decent mood. Shouldn't be too risky."
Tina nodded as well. Today, however, they weren't on the same side—she was here to cheer for her alma mater.
Suddenly, a familiar voice came from behind them.
"Running low on dragon blood at home. Wonder if Wayne's collected any."
"Actually, given that boy's nature, anything passing through his hands gets skimmed. He's definitely taken plenty."
Newt turned to see an unfamiliar face—a middle-aged man he'd never met before.
He whispered uncertainly, "Nicolas? What are you doing here?"
The man blinked. "Rare to see such excitement. Of course, I had to come. Plus, I'm here to support Beauxbatons."
He even pulled out a small flag and waved it, emblazoned with Beauxbatons' crest and emblem.
Newt stared at him, half-worried the old man might fracture something. "Where's Perenelle?"
"Right here." The middle-aged witch beside Nicolas, who had been silent until now, spoke up.
Both Tina's and Newt's eyes widened. "You—"
"Don't be shocked," Perenelle sighed, though her eyes sparkled with amusement. "Couldn't refuse Wayne, so here we are."
Nicolas added, "I do prefer my white-bearded look, admittedly. But I won't lie—not needing calcium supplements every day feels rather nice."
The couple exchanged glances but weren't overly surprised.
After all, something like this was trivial for Wayne and Ho-Oh.
What startled them was that the two elders, who had always insisted against reversing their age, had now relented.
Just then, Bagman and Wayne emerged from the tent.
Bagman arrived at the judges' table while Wayne soared directly into the sky.
"Friends from around the world! Welcome to the Triwizard Tournament!"
Once again acting as a commentator, Bagman waved to the crowd, receiving an enthusiastic response from everyone present.
"Our champions are actively preparing for battle. In the remaining time, allow me to introduce this tournament's distinguished guests."
"First, our Minister for Magic, who has made tremendous contributions to the tournament's preparation – Mr Cornelius Fudge!"
Fudge rose with a smile, basking in the cheers and applause. Bagman then introduced each member of the judging panel one by one. Only when the crowd grew visibly impatient did he finally announce the start of the competition.
"First to appear is Hogwarts' first champion – Cedric Diggory!"
Boom!
Enormous fireworks exploded across the sky as the badgers roared Diggory's surname in unison, driving the atmosphere to its peak. However, this infuriated the Welsh Green resting atop her nest of eggs, who angrily spewed a jet of flame.
Cedric had just emerged to witness this spectacle, his face turning pale.
The stands fell rapidly silent. Wayne stood suspended in mid-air, looking down imperiously.
He had concealed all traces of his presence, even layering on a Disillusionment Charm.
There was no choice – without these precautions, the dragons would tremble like quails at the sight of him, rendering the competition impossible.
Cedric took a deep breath. Rather than acting immediately, he first surveyed his surroundings and the dragon.
The Welsh Green merely glanced at him before dismissing the 'insect', curling protectively around her eggs and closing her eyes.
Including the mission objective – the golden egg.
All these eggs had been enchanted to make the dragon believe they were her own.
After all, they couldn't possibly use real dragon eggs. The loss would be catastrophic if one were accidentally crushed.
Having formulated his strategy, Cedric finally sprang into action.
His wand flicked rapidly at nearby pebbles, transfiguring them into two hounds and a powerfully built bull.
For good measure, Cedric prudently cast a Shield Charm over himself.
The bull charged violently at the dragon, slamming hard against its scaly hide.
"ROAR!"
The Welsh Green bellowed in fury, staggering slightly. With one swipe of its claws, the bull was torn apart, reverting to shattered stone.
But Cedric's objective had been achieved. He directed the two hounds to harass the dragon continuously, using their smaller size to evade attack after attack while subtly luring the beast away.
Bagman provided excited commentary.
"Exquisite Transfiguration! Three simultaneous animal Transfigurations – look, the dragon's completely distracted! It can't land a single hit on those hounds. The eggs are exposed now – will Diggory make his move?"
Cedric ignored Bagman, maintaining patient control over his provocation.
The Welsh Green's flame projection reached about twenty feet – this distance still wasn't safe.
In the stands, Professor McGonagall beamed with pride.
"Diggory's Transfiguration has improved remarkably. Look at that hound – more agile than the real thing. I haven't seen such mastery in years."
"He really should have been in Gryffindor!"
Professor McGonagall was genuinely delighted to see students applying Transfiguration so skilfully in the tournament. This was undoubtedly a validation of her teaching.
Professor Sprout, who had been anxiously watching Cedric, couldn't help rolling her eyes.
"Minerva, not every student good at Transfiguration should be in Gryffindor. By your logic, Granger and Longbottom are both outstanding in Herbology – perhaps you'd like to hand them over to me?"
Professor McGonagall looked embarrassed and didn't respond.
She was truly envious.
A well-mannered, disciplined and academically brilliant student like Cedric – the very model of an exemplary child – was exactly her ideal pupil.
If possible, Professor McGonagall would gladly trade the Weasley twins for Sprout's student.
Though she suspected the offer wouldn't be accepted...
On the field, Cedric intensified his offence.
Retrieving the golden egg was merely the basic requirement.
Time, the dragon eggs' condition and his own safety were all scoring factors – he couldn't afford to delay.
Two more transfigured mice scurried up the dragon's body, chattering noisily by its ears.
The Welsh Green grew increasingly agitated, straying further from its golden egg.
Now!
Cedric's eyes narrowed as he transformed a nearby rock into a goshawk that flew straight at the dragon, pecking viciously at its eyes before soaring skyward.
Now thoroughly enraged, the Welsh Green gave reckless chase.
Cedric moved swiftly, summoning what might have been the fastest sprint of his life as he dashed to the golden egg and raised it aloft.
The stands erupted in thunderous cheers, the deafening roar momentarily making Cedric feel as though he'd returned to the World Cup finals.
Noticing his success, the dragon bellowed and swooped down, unleashing a torrent of flame.
Dragon handlers stationed nearby rushed forward, dozens of spells raining upon the Welsh Green to subdue it completely.
After a brief moment of joy, Cedric swiftly fled with the golden egg in his arms.
"That was brilliant!" Bagman's voice grew even louder. "Contestant Diggory remains unscathed, employing superb Transfiguration to effortlessly retrieve the dragon egg—completing the task in just thirteen minutes!"
Dumbledore rose with a smile, applauding, his eyes filled with admiration. Fudge also beamed brightly, occasionally waving towards the reporters' direction.
The heads of the other schools, however, looked far less pleased.
Cedric's performance had been flawless.
Without any flashy spells, relying solely on solid technique, they could hardly find reasons to deduct points even if they wanted to.
Soon came the scoring segment, with Crouch and Bagman, along with the seven heads of schools, totalling ninety points.
First was Dumbledore, who awarded nine points, eliciting even louder cheers from the audience.
Crouch—nine points.
"Had the task been completed within ten minutes, I would have given full marks," Crouch explained, to which Bagman nodded in agreement.
"But it was still excellent, wasn't it?" With that, he unhesitatingly raised the ten-point placard, nearly causing several badgers to faint from excitement.
Next, five of the six judges awarded eight points—the lowest score their pride would allow.
Except for Karkaroff.
"Six points?" Bagman stared at him incredulously. "Professor Karkaroff, did you hold up the wrong placard?"
"No," Karkaroff replied stiffly. "The Welsh Green's difficulty was too low. I have high standards."
Booing erupted like thunder, with countless voices cursing him, but Karkaroff had done far more shameless things before and paid no heed.
Unfazed, Cedric sat beside Professor Sprout, cradling the golden egg with a grin that hadn't faded.
His efforts these days hadn't been in vain. With the Meditation Technique and relentless practice, his Transfiguration had improved significantly—otherwise, retrieving the egg wouldn't have been so effortless.
Seventy-four points were already quite respectable, and he was more than satisfied.
After announcing the scores, Bagman gave the audience a few more minutes to berate Karkaroff while the dragon handlers brought in the second dragon. Then he declared:
"Next, let's welcome our second champion—Sakura Kinomoto from Mahoutokoro!"
The tent flap lifted as Sakura, clad in golden robes, took a deep breath and stepped steadily into the arena.