Krum was thoroughly bewildered.
Of course, he'd visited the dragon enclosure that night, but between the shock of the tournament's content and Norberta's position at the very back, he hadn't gotten a proper look.
He'd only heard Wayne and the Headmasters listing the dragon species involved in the tournament – there'd been no time for detailed comparisons.
Now, observing Norberta's leisurely repose with closed eyes, Krum found himself momentarily at a loss.
"Referee, is this truly a Norwegian Ridgeback?"
Bagman blinked but replied, "Of course, Mr Krum. The task has begun – please don't waste valuable time."
With the referee's confirmation and no intervention from Karkaroff, Krum had no choice but to accept this reality.
He still hadn't grasped the severity of the situation, assuming Norberta was merely an unusual variant that remained a Norwegian Ridgeback at heart.
Besides, his strategy would work against any dragon.
Krum darted towards Norberta with the agility befitting a world-class Seeker, maintaining perfect distance control – precisely thirty feet between man and beast.
This accounted for the standard Norwegian Ridgeback's twenty-to-twenty-five-foot flame range, with an extra five feet reserved as respect for potential variation.
Finding his angle, Krum shouted sharply, "Conjunctivitus!"
A jet-black beam shot from his wand – the very eye-scorching Hex Sirius and Harry had mentioned. A relatively mild Dark Magic spell, yet remarkably effective against dragons.
Typically the domain of poachers, though Durmstrang's tradition of teaching Dark Arts made Krum's use unsurprising.
Norberta remained prone, not even granting the courtesy of a glance.
Just as Krum thought his spell might take effect, crimson wings shifted with a sudden motion, intercepting the dark beam with a crisp 'ping' before the magic dissipated into the air.
Undeterred by the failed attempt, Krum remained hopeful that at least he'd drawn the dragon's attention.
Yet to his chagrin, Norberta simply lay there, showing not the slightest inclination to move.
"Krum's attack has proven ineffective! Will he continue his assault?" Bagman's commentary rang out. "His opponent appears remarkably arrogant, showing no reaction whatsoever!"
"Impressive defence," Karkaroff murmured, eyes narrowing.
While dragons were famously magic-resistant, resistance wasn't immunity – spells should still cause some damage or at least discomfort.
Merely negligible effects against their massive frames.
Yet Krum's spell had struck Norberta's wing without leaving so much as a mark.
A sense of foreboding rose in Karkaroff's heart.
Could it be... that Krum was about to meet his downfall here today?!
Ding ding ding ding!
Feeling utterly disdained, Krum's expression darkened further. His wand fired spells incessantly, but to little effect—aside from treating the audience to a fireworks display, it hadn't moved Norberta a single millimetre.
Wayne shook his head slightly mid-air. This kid was truly stubborn—did his brain only contain the idea of brute force?
A real wizard wasn't some reckless brute who only knew how to wield a wand like a Gatling gun.
Time trickled away, and before long, cold sweat had broken out on Krum's forehead.
Damn it, even if his spells had hit a solid steel wall, they should've blasted a crater by now. This dragon was just too absurd.
Meanwhile, Fleur and the others, seeing him drenched in sweat, couldn't help but feel relieved.
Thank goodness they hadn't drawn such an unlucky lot—otherwise, they'd be in no better state.
Bagman, at this point, had no idea how to commentate anymore. He could only grit his teeth and praise Krum's spell proficiency and the variety of magic he'd mastered.
Finally, the Command Seal on Krum's hand lit up.
Originally, he'd intended to save his trump card for the final round or a critical moment. But now, the issue wasn't whether he could win the championship—
It was whether he could even retrieve the golden egg and advance to the next round!
With fury, he unleashed a crimson beam several times thicker than before—but not aimed at Norberta. Instead, it struck the ground near the dragon.
BOOM—!
The earth began to tremble. Krum had finally learned his lesson—he couldn't rely on brute force, so he'd changed tactics.
The hard ground quaked violently, then started to churn.
"A Swamp Charm! A stroke of genius!" Bagman perked up at last, finally finding something worth saying.
"The dragon's sinking into the swamp! It's moving at last! Oh—Merlin's beard! Thank goodness, he's alive! He's hiding behind a rock!"
Bagman's face twisted momentarily as Norberta, trapped in the swamp, flapped her wings and effortlessly broke free—only to become utterly enraged.
The filthy mud had sullied her beautiful scales. For a vain 'little girl' like her, this was an unforgivable sin.
"ROAR!"
Platinum-white flames spewed from Norberta's maw. Krum's face paled—the fire crossed thirty feet in an instant, nearly engulfing him entirely. Thankfully, his Seeker reflexes saved his life.
A quick roll, and he took cover behind a large boulder.
The rock grew scorching hot, glowing red—then, to the audience's gasps, the solid stone began to melt!
Krum hastily scrambled further away.
Norberta soared into the sky, raining fire indiscriminately. The temperature in the arena skyrocketed, and many spectators were already sweating.
At the centre of the grounds, aside from the swampy section, nearly half the rocks had been scorched crimson, turning into molten lava.
Karkaroff was on the verge of calling for the match to be stopped—Krum was already injured, blood dripping from his arm, his robes half-torn.
He activated another Command Seal, pointing his wand at the swamp and bellowing, "Depulso!"
The mud quickly parted, revealing the dragon egg and golden egg that had sunk to the bottom. Risking his life, Krum charged forward and narrowly managed to grab the golden egg.
Norberta let out a displeased roar before shooting several bursts of flame into the sky. Without waiting for the dragon handlers to intervene, she flew back into the dragon enclosure.
She remembered Wayne's instructions – no fatalities. Had this been in the wild, Krum's speed earlier would have earned him a crispy fate.
"What a tense and thrilling match," Bagman's voice rang out as he wiped sweat from his brow. "But the ending is satisfactory – Contestant Krum has successfully retrieved the golden egg. Now we move to the scoring phase—"
By now, over twenty minutes had passed, nearly exceeding the combined duration of all previous contestants.
Combined with Krum's dishevelled appearance and injuries, his score was destined to be low.
After removing the highest and lowest scores, he only managed thirty points.
He became the first champion to be escorted away by Madam Pomfrey for examination in the second tent.
Next up was Vladimir from Koldovstoretz.
During this period, students from different schools had gained some understanding of each other's styles.
To the young wizards, Koldovstoretz seemed like a school of drunkards – nearly seventy per cent of students drank daily, all behaving like reckless brutes who'd fight at the slightest provocation, with their Headmaster never bothering with such trivial matters.
Yet Vladimir's performance today shattered these perceptions.
He adopted the same strategy as Cedric, conjuring several small birds to harass the Hebridean Black. Compared to the Common Welsh Green, the Black had a more aggressive temperament and was quickly provoked.
However, Vladimir's control over animals was poor. After two bursts of flame from the dragon, the birds' rigid flight patterns saw them instantly reduced to ashes.
When this failed, Vladimir swiftly changed tactics. If control wasn't working, he'd abandon it entirely. He conjured a dozen goats – the Black's favourite meal – scattering them across the arena while using blind spots to gradually close the distance himself.
As the dragon chased the most distant goat, he dashed forward to claim the golden egg.
Though the process was convoluted, his uninjured state and undamaged dragon eggs earned him a respectable score – fifty-three points.
Even Wayne found himself impressed by this bear-like champion's unexpected subtlety, so unlike his usual brash demeanour.
The penultimate contestant was Buso from Uagadou.
Strange war chants rose from the stands as Uagadou students brought out hand drums to cheer their champion.
"Quite catchy," Hermione remarked, noticing her leg had unconsciously started tapping along before she stopped it.
Many young wizards from other schools began humming along too, momentarily transforming the arena into something resembling Uagadou's home ground.
Buso flashed a brilliant white grin, enthusiastically waving at the stands.
At Bagman's starting whistle, Buso took two steps back, inhaling deeply.
He didn't draw his wand, instead making a series of peculiar hand gestures without uttering any spells.
The wand was a product of Europe, arriving in Africa quite late, with vastly different methods and philosophies behind its creation.
Most students at Uagadou had mastered wandless magic, and many ancient spells required accompanying hand gestures.
The teachers and students from other schools couldn't comprehend Buso's rapid movements, but how could Zaka not understand? His fists clenched tightly.
"Moo~!"
With a long, drawn-out call, Buso transformed into an enormous grey savannah elephant, each thunderous step causing the ground to tremble.
"An elephant! Contestant Zaka has transformed into an elephant! At this size, it's nearly comparable to a dragon!"
"I've never encountered an Animagus this large before!"
Bagman's exclamations carried far across the arena as Wayne narrowed his eyes, observing the rapidly approaching elephant.
The Transfiguration techniques passed down at Uagadou were indeed rather intriguing.
While Bagman correctly referred to this transformation as Animagus, the term wasn't entirely accurate.
Animagus generally refers to a category of animal transformation magic, but in Europe, it specifically denotes fixed transformations of that type.
Uagadou's Transfiguration differed.
Take Sirius Black, for example - his first attempt at transforming into a black dog was most dangerous, but once successful, the transformation became instinctive, allowing him to change at will thereafter.
Uagadou's Transfiguration didn't work that way. Even after mastery, each transformation carried risk, requiring complete focus and effort.
However, it allowed for multiple transformation types, limited only by how many a wizard wished to master.
Both approaches had their merits, with neither clearly superior.
Yet Wayne knew Buso's current transformation must involve tremendous risk - the sheer size disparity between human and elephant meant his magical power had temporarily manifested as flesh to maintain the form.
"Moo~!"
The elephant's appearance put the Romanian Longhorn on alert, prompting it to blast flames in an attempt to drive the creature away.
But Buso's elephant proved unexpectedly agile, sidestepping the fire before rearing up and bringing its massive forelegs crashing down on the dragon.
BOOM!
The earth groaned under the impact. African elephants typically weigh around five tonnes - combined with the momentum of the charge, even a dragon couldn't withstand such force.
The crowd watched in awe as the elephant's powerful legs forcibly shoved the Longhorn aside, delivering two more crushing stomps to its head that made the entire arena tremble.
With the dragon displaced, the golden egg came into view.
A swift flick of the trunk secured the prize.
"ROAR~!"
The Longhorn's pained howls quickly turned to rage as it realised - it had been trampled?!
"Look out, Buso!" Zaka shouted frantically as flames engulfed the elephant, drawing agonised bellows before the form twisted back into Buso's human shape. The sudden size reduction carried him clear of the fire.
As the Longhorn moved to pursue, claws bared, its stone platform abruptly rose, catapulting the entire dragon away.
Wayne had intervened - his duty being to protect contestants' lives. In Buso's current state, he'd never have survived that attack.
Though the Transfiguration had mostly reverted, his right leg retained elephantine features, becoming quite literally an elephant's leg.
...
After some handling, the Longhorn was removed while Buso was rushed to Madam Pomfrey for emergency treatment.
He bore burn marks from the dragon, and the backlash from Transfiguration was even more severe—he might well need another trip to St Mungo's.
The judges had completed their scoring—forty points.
Truth be told, the score should have been lower. Many dragon eggs had been destroyed, and the handlers were injured, too. But several judges, impressed by his courage to wrestle the dragon bare-handed, had added an extra point or two.
At least his bravery was commendable.
The stands erupted into commotion once more—now only Harry remained.
Despite their differences, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students had unfurled banners cheering him on.
Led by the Weasley twins, Gryffindor roared Harry's name.
In the guest stands, Sirius and Lupin—the former wearing a hat—grew tense.
"Lupin, do you think Harry's mastered the Conjunctivitis Curse?"
"I'd rather he hadn't," Lupin replied with a bitter smile as the vicious Hungarian Horntail was led in. "You're practically wishing for Harry's death, teaching him such a dangerous spell against a Horntail."
Sirius looked sheepish. "I didn't expect his luck to be this poor. You're right—flying would've been better."
Amidst the crowd's anticipation, Harry finally appeared.
He raised his wand.
"Accio Firebolt!" he shouted.
At this moment, he employed the Meditation Technique's focus exercises, visualising the Firebolt with unwavering clarity.
His mind honed to a razor's edge, Harry entered a peculiar state. The cheers around him grew sharper—he heard the twins' voices, remembered the idea they'd proposed.
Before facing the dragon, Harry would've sworn he'd rather die than resort to such a ludicrous plan.
But seeing the Hungarian Horntail's savage maw and jagged spikes thirty feet away, he realised nothing mattered more than survival.
Thus, with even greater resolve, Harry bellowed:
"Accio Dungbombs!"