Chapter 335: Draco and Harry's Grand Reconciliation
If the process of exploring magic were compared to climbing a tall tower, with each core power mastered being a step up...
Then Lord Voldemort undoubtedly severed the crucial step of "love" forever; no matter how high he climbed, he would always lack the most fundamental cornerstone.
"This is the only way I can think of. Is this the price of losing 'love'?" Dylan then looked up at Headmaster Dumbledore. "Headmaster Dumbledore, can I understand it this way—after he obtains Harry's blood, although he gains the qualification to harm Harry, it's merely 'the ability to harm' him."
He paused, clarified his thoughts, and continued, "In fact, he will become part of Harry's magical protection, and he will also be bound into that magical contract."
"To put it another way, his role in this contract is actually not much different from Harry's aunt and uncle? And because he voluntarily joined, Harry's protection can even be extended for quite some time?"
"Oh?" Dumbledore was a little surprised. He straightened up, his eyes lit up, and even his circling thumb stopped. "Dylan, you actually thought of this?"
"This is how I've analyzed it." Dylan met his gaze and smiled faintly. "Lord Voldemort wants to be reborn through Harry's blood, so the protection and contract within Harry's blood will naturally enter his body along with the blood."
"But what he truly gains is not the 'qualification' to harm Harry, but a contract that binds himself, as if he painstakingly squeezed into that 'eggshell' only to find himself trapped inside, unable to get out again."
"Lord Voldemort can at most become the inner membrane of the 'eggshell'."
Dylan continued, his fingers tracing outlines in the air as if sketching the structure of the contract. "In the end, he still has to fulfill the duty of the eggshell, helping to stabilize Harry's magical protection, but he will never touch the core 'yolk'. As long as he cannot access the essence of the protection, he cannot fatally harm Harry."
"You can understand it that way." Dumbledore nodded gently, his approval growing stronger in his eyes. "Go on."
"Of course, what I just said is actually Lord Voldemort's perceived goal versus the actual outcome he caused, which are two entirely different things."
He deliberately emphasized, "You mentioned before that adulthood and non-adulthood are two stages, and this is very important."
"So that means the original magical contract's protection period only lasted until Harry reached adulthood. 'Adulthood' is a fixed point, and this won't change."
"But now there's an unexpected turn: Lord Voldemort, after his rebirth, also became part of the 'eggshell'."
Dylan's speaking pace gradually quickened. "The magical contract was originally most closely linked to Harry, so its expiration time only depended on Harry's age. But after Lord Voldemort joined, something interesting happened."
"He is caught between the contract and Harry's protection, and is actually closer to the 'eggshell' itself than Harry. Plus, he is 'reborn', which means—"
At this point, a smile played on Dylan's lips.
"Once Lord Voldemort is resurrected through Harry's blood, we can start calculating the time from the moment of his 'rebirth'."
He deliberately paused to make his tone more steady: "With Lord Voldemort's 'kind' help, the magical contract's expiration time now refers to a new standard. Harry's protection can be extended by at least another seventeen years. The contract will only truly expire after this 'reborn' Lord Voldemort reaches 'adulthood'."
"magic," Dumbledore's smile was particularly evident, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes crinkling together, "isn't it wonderful?"
"Indeed, it's wonderful; I've always thought so." Dylan thought of the joy he found in studying magic.
"However," Dumbledore's smile receded slightly, and his tone deepened, "Lord Voldemort's target isn't just Harry."
Dylan's heart stirred, and he pointed to himself: "The other target wouldn't happen to be me, would it?"
"Exactly, it's you." Dumbledore nodded emphatically. "You and Harry have, in different ways, disrupted his plans time and again. He has long considered both of you thorns in his side."
"He wants Harry's blood to decipher the magical protection he doesn't understand, and he likely wants your blood to strengthen himself."
Dumbledore added, "After all, you possess many special magical powers. He has always been skilled at extracting power through blood magic, and I have led you to become a young leader. The other Professors haven't deliberately hidden your talent either, so he will likely set his sights on you."
"That's not surprising." Dylan replied, "There are no absolute boundaries between different types of magic. The deeper you research, the more connections you discover. Lord Voldemort's mastery of blood magic is profound, so it's reasonable for him to have this idea."
However, who would ultimately drain whose power remained to be seen.
"Speaking of which, because I didn't want to directly release the Slytherin, I haven't even really studied that Horcrux recently. Perhaps I could release the other party and then torture... study a new Horcrux."
"It's a pity Lord Voldemort isn't at Durmstrang right now." Dumbledore sighed softly, with a hint of regret. "Otherwise, we could have unearthed more of his plans through Barty's memories."
"Being able to figure out his two recent targets is already a considerable gain." Dylan smiled. "At least we know he'll be watching me and Harry next. Being prepared in advance is always better than reacting passively. Thank you for telling me all this, Professor Dumbledore, it allows me to be prepared."
Although Dylan often communicated with Harry, Draco, and Cedric, helping them clarify their thoughts and ease their emotions...
In the following week, the three of them could still clearly feel an invisible pressure, like a thin veil wrapped around them, lingering and refusing to dissipate.
But at the same time, their popularity was visibly increasing.
Walking down the corridor, students they met would always stop and smile, saying, "Good luck."
Younger Gryffindor students would excitedly gather around Harry and Dylan, asking all sorts of questions.
Slytherin upperclassmen, upon meeting Draco, would pat him on the shoulder, telling him not to disgrace the house.
Cedric, no matter where he went, was met with cheers from Hufflepuff students.
Even more remarkably, this encouragement wasn't just from their own houses; Ravenclaw students would also actively give them a thumbs-up when they saw them.
Harry and the others gradually realized...
The identity of "Hogwarts Champion" was like an invisible bond, quietly connecting the four houses that were originally distinctly separate.
But it was precisely this special connection that made them feel even more pressure.
If someone made a mistake in the first task and messed up the competition, would they disappoint everyone's expectations?
Would it cause these hard-won close relationships to revert to their former state of mutual non-interaction?
At breakfast, Harry sat at the long table, his fork poking at the fried egg on his plate, having no appetite whatsoever.
Ron sat opposite him, busy making his own sandwich.
First, he spread out two slices of whole wheat bread, stuffed several thick layers of bacon and sausage inside, then picked up the gravy boat nearby.
With a "splash," he poured a large spoonful, the grease dripping down the edges of the bread.
"Why think so much? Think more about Snape." Ron mumbled, adding a slice of tomato to his sandwich. "Even if something goes wrong, it's no big deal. The worst that can happen is going back to how things were before."
He took a huge bite of his sandwich, not caring that breadcrumbs fell onto his shirt. "And it might not even go back to how it was. Think about it, has Snape changed recently? He's still the same old Snape."
Although he said it casually, Harry suddenly snapped back to attention and nodded in agreement.
Ron was absolutely right; Snape hadn't changed a bit.
Just yesterday in Potion Class, because his brewed Potion was a little too dark, Snape immediately deducted five points from Gryffindor and sarcastically criticized his Potion-making skills as being as disappointing as his father's.
Ron knew this so clearly, of course, because he was Harry's deskmate.
Every time Snape deducted points from Harry, he would turn to glare at Ron, coldly dropping a line like, "Why didn't you remind Mr. Potter? It seems you are just as inattentive," and then deduct another five points.
Harry even felt that Snape would never change in his entire life.
If one day Snape suddenly smiled and said to him, "Good luck, Potter."
He would probably immediately pull out his wand, suspecting that the person in front of him was an imposter who had taken Polyjuice Potion, and possibly even a Death Eater in disguise.
Hermione, who was beside them, had initially frowned, clearly finding Ron's method of comfort too perfunctory, and wanted to retort.
But the words caught in her throat, and she pursed her lips, swallowing them back.
After all, Ron's intentions were good, and continuing to argue would only make Harry more agitated.
Since she hadn't spoken, there was still room for maneuver. Hermione abandoned the thought of refuting, turned to Harry, and her tone softened considerably: "Harry, don't put too much pressure on yourself. You've been working very hard these past few days, researching information, practicing spells every day, and going over every possible countermeasure you could think of."
"Exactly!" Ron immediately put down his sandwich and nodded vigorously in support. "We've found so much magical information about dangerous creatures, from binding spells to healing spells, surely a few of them will come in handy!"
Hermione's heart resonated with those words. She nodded in satisfaction and continued to remind them, "And haven't you already agreed? After breakfast, meet in the empty classroom on the fourth floor to compile all the information you've found and discuss a strategy together. You haven't forgotten that, have you?"
"Of course not!" Harry's spirits lifted, and his previous dejection vanished.
He picked up his fork and, in one go, speared a fried egg, a sausage, and mashed potatoes into his mouth, chewing vigorously.
He needed to eat quickly to have the energy to sort through the information with everyone.
Dylan sat next to Neville, looked at him, and smiled, "I told you, don't be so nervous. They're just some trials."
Draco, Harry, and Dylan entered the empty classroom on the fourth floor almost one after another.
As soon as they crossed the threshold, they saw that Cedric had already arrived.
He was bending over, moving the desks and chairs from against the wall, one by one, to the center of the classroom, forming a makeshift long table. On the table were several rolls of blank parchment and quill pens.
"My father helped a lot." Cedric saw them and placed a roll of parchment he was holding on the table. "He got a lot of information on 5X-rated dangerous animals from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. I've organized it all."
He picked up the top roll and unrolled it, his finger tracing the paper. "Among so many dangerous animals, Dragon should be the most likely. There are Dragon reserves all over the world, making them easy to gather, and they have always been a common choice for high-difficulty challenges."
With that, he distributed the parchments to the other three.
Harry and Draco took them and couldn't help but gape.
The paper was densely covered with writing and simple sketches, detailing everything from the Dragon's species, habitat, habits, to weaknesses. It clearly took a lot of effort.
"Cedric, this information is incredibly detailed," Dylan said, flipping through the parchment, his tone filled with admiration.
This was far more detailed than the information he had found himself.
"It's nothing, really." Cedric smiled, his ears slightly red. "My father had ready-made files, so collecting them wasn't difficult. It just took some time to transcribe and organize. But it's definitely unrealistic to memorize all these species. I think we need to filter out the most likely ones first."
"You mean, considering the regions where each magic school is located, to find representative dangerous animals?" Draco immediately understood his meaning and looked up at him.
"Exactly, that's what I was thinking." Cedric nodded emphatically. "Didn't Mr. Crouch say that the difficulty would be adjusted because of the increased number of champions? Adjusting the difficulty definitely requires considering preparation time. If each school's region provided one dangerous animal, it would save time and seem fair."
"If it's Durmstrang, it's highly likely to be a Swedish Short-Snout." Draco looked down, flipping through the parchment, his finger stopping on a certain line. "And the Norwegian Ridgeback. This Dragon is very common in Northern Europe and is also very aggressive, so the possibility is also very high."
"As for Hogwarts," Harry added, his gaze sweeping across the paper, "the Common Welsh Green and the Hebridean Black Dragon both operate in this area. It shouldn't be outside these two."
"Beauxbatons is in France, so the corresponding one should be the Hungarian Horntail Dragon," Dylan added, his finger pointing at the sketch depicting the black Dragon.
"No matter which one, Dragon is not easy to deal with." Cedric gave a wry smile. "Especially this one and the Hebridean Black Dragon, they are simply the trickiest of the tricky."
"The Hungarian Horntail Dragon is 'the most dangerous Dragon'?" Harry read the text on the information, his brows furrowing tighter. "Its scales can resist most magic, the sting on its tail is poisonous, and its personality is particularly vicious, with extremely strong aggression—its body length is actually fifty feet?"
He looked up and gestured. "That's about four or five stories high, right? And its Dragon breath also has a range of fifty feet. It's practically a mobile attack fortress."
Putting down the parchment, Harry looked at the other three. "If we really encounter this kind of Dragon, the best way to deal with it should be—" "Broomsticks!" Harry, Draco, and Cedric spoke almost simultaneously, their voices overlapping.
Cedric was startled at first, then couldn't help but laugh. "What a coincidence, it seems we thought alike."
"Mainly because Dragon has too few weaknesses, especially this kind of high-level Dragon. magicattacks are basically useless."
Harry scratched his head and explained, "Dylan said before that circling Dragon with a broomstick is very convenient, and now it seems that this is indeed the best way."
"And the judging panel shouldn't actually make us kill Dragon." Draco added, his tone confident. "At most, like the selection assessment, they'll specify how long we have to evade Dragon's attacks, or complete a certain task to pass."
"Wait, I found a key point!" Harry suddenly blinked, his eyes lighting up. "It seems we are all Quidditchplayers! In terms of broomstick riding skills, the champions from other schools definitely can't compare to us. This is absolutely our advantage!"
"I'm not," Dylan said.
"Well, but Dylan, you're much better than us, I know," Harry added.
Dylan shrugged.
"But there's one thing that must be considered." Draco suddenly spoke, his finger harshly gripping the edge of the parchment, a clear flicker of disgust in his slightly narrowed eyes, and undisguised contempt in his tone. "That guy must have thought of this too."
Harry immediately nodded; he instantly understood who Draco's "he" was referring to.
Karkaroff of Durmstrang!
That guy would even interfere with the goblet of fire, so there's no reason he wouldn't meddle with the event's content.
"Would they really go to such lengths?" Cedric frowned, his tone filled with confusion, his finger tapping the table. "No matter what, he's still the Principal of a magic school, he should have some regard for his reputation, right?"
"Reputation?" Draco scoffed, his expansive gesture conveying natural sarcasm. "He threw his reputation to the wind long ago."
He glanced at Dylan and added, "Isn't Dylan becoming the so-called 'fourth champion' Karkaroff's doing? It's just that everyone cares about appearances and hasn't explicitly said it. Anyway, for people like him, it's always right to assume the worst."
Dylan blinked at Malfoy.
This guy was well aware of this point.
It must have been from his upbringing.
"Maybe Karkaroff would object?" Harry scratched his chin, uncertainty in his eyes. "Krum is Durmstrang's champion. If the event is beneficial to Quidditch players, Krum would also benefit."
"Regardless of whether they'll play dirty tricks, let's be fully prepared first." Dylan gestured for everyone to be quiet, his tone steady. "If the first task really involves Dragon, and broomsticks are allowed, there's another crucial point to note."
"What point?" Harry, Draco, and Cedric asked almost simultaneously, their gazes fixed on him.
"The Dragon's size." Dylan didn't keep them guessing and went straight to the point. "The Hungarian Horntail and Norwegian Ridgeback are similar in size, averaging fifty feet. The Hebridean Black is slightly smaller but still forty feet. The Swedish Short-Snout averages forty-five feet, and the Common Welsh Green eighteen feet."
As soon as he finished speaking, he waved his wand. A wisp of pale silver mist first emerged from the wand, and then the mist rapidly spread, condensing into shape in the corner of the classroom.
A curled-up, misty Dragon appeared, its wings pressed tightly against its sides, yet still occupying almost half the corner. Cedric instinctively took half a step back, Harry's Adam's apple bobbed as he quietly swallowed, and Draco's face instantly darkened.
Even though it was only made of mist, its enormous outline still exuded a suffocating sense of oppression.
"This is a Swedish Short-Snout, roughly this size," Dylan said, pointing at the misty Dragon, his tone as calm as if describing an ordinary object.
"This is too big—" Harry couldn't help but murmur, his eyes filled with shock. "And it's still curled up in the corner, its wings aren't even spread out yet."
"This is only a medium-sized one." Draco took a deep breath, his tone carrying a difficult-to-hide gravity. "If it were a Hungarian Horntail, its size would be twice as large as this. Just its wings spread out would probably fill the entire classroom, wouldn't they?"
"So, we absolutely cannot let the Dragon get close to us." Cedric frowned, his finger tracing the Dragon's habits section on the parchment. "A casual swipe of its claw or sweep of its tail could cause considerable trouble, let alone its fire breath."
The four stared at the misty Dragon in the corner in silence, their eyes vacant, clearly simulating in their minds the scenario of facing a real Dragon.
How to quickly ascend, how to avoid attacks, when to look for opportunities to counterattack... Only breathing and the faint "flowing" sound of the misty Dragon remained in the classroom.
"I might be able to provide some practical help." Dylan waved his wand again, and the misty Dragon in the corner instantly dissipated, leaving only a few wisps of faint smoke.
"Regarding Dragon, I have a lot of memories and experiences that I can share with you."
"Share memories?" Cedric reacted, his tone tinged with hesitation.
Chapter 336: Group Discussion of Hogwarts Warriors
"But a Pensieve is too precious; it's not something you can easily get."
"What's so hard about that?" Draco said dismissively, as if talking about asking his family to send a box of Honeydukes sweets. "I'll have Dad send one over in a couple of days; he has a spare one in his study."
Tsk, he didn't even have a Pensieve yet.
"Let's store the memory first."
Dylan shook his head, raised his wand, and steadily pressed his finger to his temple, slowly drawing out a wisp of soft, glowing silver thread.
That was his research memory on Dragons.
He pulled a clean Potion bottle from his robe pocket, unscrewed the stopper, carefully placed the memory thread inside, then tightened the cap and handed it to Draco.
"Draco, could you please keep this safe for me?"
"Leave it to me."
Draco immediately straightened his back and solemnly took the Potion bottle, carefully placing it into an inner pocket of his robe, even pressing the pocket opening to ensure it was secure.
"Shall we continue our analysis then?" Cedric was the first to break the brief silence, gesturing to the parchment on the table. "Next, we should look at what other 5X-rated dangerous creatures there are."
"I'll look for records from other regions."
Harry immediately lowered his head, his finger sliding quickly across the parchment, soon stopping on a page. "Horned Serpents are 5X-rated, but they live in water. It's highly unlikely the task will choose an aquatic creature, right?"
"And there's the Cat-Panther." Draco flipped to another roll of parchment, his brow furrowed, his tone grave. "Its size is similar to a lion, yet it can walk upright like a human, its running speed is so fast it almost leaves afterimages, and it's skilled at using hypnosis to confuse opponents, even capable of rudimentary Legilimency."
He looked up, a hint of helplessness in his eyes: "Sure enough, if it's a 5X-rated dangerous creature, none of them are easy to deal with."
Cedric couldn't help but sigh, and Harry and Draco both nodded, clearly having a clearer understanding of the upcoming challenge.
"There's also a 5X-rated dangerous creature..." Harry's finger slid rapidly across the parchment, suddenly stopping on a page, his voice involuntarily rising, his eyes wide with surprise, "It's a Nundu?"
He jabbed his finger hard at the text on the paper, reading it out word for word, incredulously: "The material says this is currently the most dangerous magical creature in the world. Despite its enormous size, it moves without a sound, almost like a shadow."
As he read the crucial part, Harry gasped, his Adam's apple visibly bobbing: "Even more terrifying, its breath is highly poisonous, not only causing Muggles to contract fatal illnesses, but in severe cases, it can even destroy an entire village! And to subdue one Nundu, at least a hundred Wizards must work together..."
He looked up at the other three: "The school wouldn't really bring in a creature like this, would they? It's too dangerous; if it got out of control, there would be no way to contain it."
Cedric leaned over, glanced at the description on the parchment, and nodded softly: "It's indeed unlikely. Nundus are too large; transporting them to Britain, just the overseas journey alone would be incredibly expensive, and specialized protective facilities would need to be built. The judges wouldn't create such trouble for themselves."
"Besides, there are several other dangerous creatures, such as the Giant Lion and the Rainbow Serpent, but they all have similar problems—either they exceed the size limit or have extremely high environmental requirements, making transportation and placement very difficult."
Dylan added, his finger tracing another roll of parchment, "Compared to those, a Dragon or that Cat-Panther is more realistic, especially since the Cat-Panther is similar in size to a lion, making it much easier to transport."
The group discussed the possibilities of dangerous creatures for a while longer.
Ultimately, they leaned towards the conclusion that "Dragons are the most likely test."
After all, Dragons have a wide distribution, are less difficult to prepare, and fit the tradition of the Triwizard Tournament.
"Regardless of what creature it ultimately is, I have an idea for how to deal with it."
Draco suddenly spoke, pulling three neatly folded pieces of parchment from an inner pocket of his robe and handing them to Dylan, Harry, and Cedric.
"These are a few magical plants I've selected that I think might be useful."
He paused, then added: "I have a lot more complete information at home, but it was too heavy to bring. These are the most practical ones I picked out; you can take a look first."
The three unfolded the parchment, revealing neat, densely written text, with key points marked.
Draco had clearly put a lot of thought into it.
The parchment listed three types of magical plants:
Venomous Tentacula, Biting Cabbage, and Snapping Teasing Thistle.
Each one detailed its growth habits, attack methods, and even cultivation techniques.
"My idea is simple." Draco's finger pointed to the section on Venomous Tentacula. "Using accelerated growth Potions and spells, these plant seeds can grow quickly, and their aggressiveness can be used to restrain dangerous creatures. Especially the Venomous Tentacula; if its venom can seep into a Dragon's wound, it can paralyze the creature and weaken its combat ability."
"Venomous Tentacula..." Cedric cleared his throat, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. "I remember this plant isn't cheap, is it? I asked at a flower shop in Diagon Alley last time, and even the seedlings were quite expensive."
Dylan blinked, instantly recalling the prices in Diagon Alley.
A single leaf of Venomous Tentacula cost ten Galleons, let alone an entire seedling; it was indeed not something ordinary students could afford.
However, he had quite a few cultivated in his own world.
"I think the hardest part isn't the money, it's finding the right accelerated Potion and a matching spell."
Draco shrugged, looking somewhat relaxed, clearly not bothered by the price. "As long as they can cause trouble for dangerous creatures, spending a bit of money is nothing. I still have that much family wealth."
As he spoke, he patted his pocket, looking self-assured.
The financial resources of the House of Malfoy were indeed sufficient to support his preparations for these magical plants.
Harry and Cedric exchanged glances, both tacitly agreeing to the feasibility of this plan, as more preparation meant a greater chance of success.
"Wait, could there be any restrictions?" Harry suddenly frowned, tapping the table with his finger, a bit hesitant. "I mean... can we bring all these things onto the field?"
Fearing they hadn't understood, he quickly added, speaking a bit faster: "For example, broomsticks, and those magical plant seeds you've prepared, would the judges allow us to bring them directly into the arena?"
"I thought of that long ago. I asked my dad to inquire with someone from the Ministry of Magic."
Draco immediately spoke, with a hint of almost imperceptible pride, clearly pleased with his foresight.
"Champions can only bring their wands directly into the arena; nothing else is allowed."
He paused, then changed his tone: "But the rules don't say you can't summon them with a wand. As long as you hide the items near the arena beforehand, summoning them with a Summoning Charm during the competition won't be a violation."
"In that case, the Summoning Charm is something we absolutely must master." His gaze swept over Cedric and Harry, with a hint of confirmation, "You two should both be proficient in using it, right?"
Feeling his gaze, Cedric immediately nodded: "Of course, it was on the Transfiguration O.W.L. exam last year."
Harry also chimed in: "I often use it to summon things that accidentally fall under the sofa, so it's definitely not a problem."
"But the Summoning Charm can only summon solid objects, like seeds in a box."
Cedric quickly realized, looking down at the parchment Draco had given him, "No wonder you said you'd need an accelerated Potion to go with it. After summoning the seeds, you'd have to use the Potion to make them mature immediately."
"That's exactly the plan." Draco nodded emphatically. "And seeds have another advantage: they're less likely to alert a Dragon. The Venomous Tentacula's venom can harm it, so it would be very sensitive to a mature plant, but its vigilance would be much lower for inconspicuous seeds."
"But a Dragon's scales are so thick, the venom wouldn't be able to penetrate them."
Harry frowned, pondering for a moment, then suddenly looked at Draco, a bit uncertain, "Are you thinking of throwing the sprouted Venomous Tentacula into the Dragon's mouth?"
"Exactly!" Draco raised an eyebrow, a triumphant smirk playing on his lips. "It'll be perfect for using a broomstick. We can ride the broom around behind the Dragon and throw it in when it opens its mouth to breathe fire. It'll definitely hit."
"But didn't you consider this earlier?" Harry immediately pressed, earnestly. "What if they forbid the use of broomsticks? Even though the Summoning Charm can summon anything, what if the judges suddenly add a rule prohibiting the summoning of flying tools like broomsticks? What then?"
"This..." Draco's smile instantly froze on his face. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
When he had thought of this plan before, his mind was entirely focused on how to use plants to attack, and he hadn't considered the possibility of rule changes at all.
Even the idea of using a broomstick was a sudden inspiration during their discussion, and he hadn't expected Harry to immediately poke a hole in it.
He clutched the parchment, somewhat embarrassed, and turned his gaze to Cedric, as if grasping at a lifeline: "I remember you... didn't you master Animagus? If you transform into a flying animal, you could also complete the delivery, right?"
"My Animagus form is a puma; I can't fly." Cedric shrugged helplessly, a hint of regret in his voice. "As for a second Animagus form, it requires a deep connection with a pet. My owl was a gift from my dad; it's close to him, not me, so I can't currently meet the conditions for making the Transfiguration Potion."
"This is troublesome."
Draco frowned, let out a heavy sigh, and said nothing more.
Harry and Cedric also fell silent, each staring blankly at the parchment on the table.
The plan they had just managed to come up with had run into a dead end in an instant.
The classroom was so quiet you could hear the rustling of leaves outside the window, and the atmosphere became somewhat heavy.
"Do you remember the five exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration?" Dylan spoke at the opportune moment, his tone calm, instantly breaking the deadlock.
"Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration?" Cedric suddenly looked up, a glint in his eyes, as if he had suddenly thought of something. "Dylan, are you saying... we could Transfigure the box containing the seeds? For example, turn it into a small bird and have it fly into the Dragon's mouth on its own?"
The more he thought about it, the more feasible it seemed, and his speaking speed quickened: "A bird after Transfiguration is essentially still a box; it wouldn't violate the rule of 'not conjuring living things out of thin air.'"
"Once it flies into the Dragon's belly, we can then reverse the Transfiguration, the box returns to its original state, and the seeds inside, under the effect of the accelerated Potion, will have just sprouted, allowing them to take effect directly inside the Dragon!"
"The difficulty of this Transfiguration isn't low."
Harry scratched his head, somewhat worried.
It required transforming a box into an agile flying animal and then controlling it to precisely find its target, demanding extremely high control over Transfiguration.
Draco also nodded, and though he said nothing, the worry in his eyes was identical to Harry's.
"Leave it to me."
Cedric volunteered, straightening his back, his tone filled with confidence. "I'm quite talented at Transfiguration!"
He gestured with his hand, mentally outlining the process: "The specific steps would roughly be this: Harry and Draco first use a Summoning Charm to summon the box containing the seeds and accelerated Potion. I immediately cast a Transfiguration on the box, turning it into a sparrow."
"While the Dragon is breathing fire and its defenses are relaxed, we'll have the 'sparrow' fly into its mouth."
"Once we confirm it's inside, I'll reverse the Transfiguration, the Potion will immediately ripen the seeds, and the Venomous Tentacula will be able to take root and sprout in the Dragon's belly."
"What about us?" Harry immediately asked, his fighting spirit rekindled.
"We're responsible for distracting the Dragon," Cedric explained. "We'll use Expelliarmus and Obstacle Jinxes to harass it, trying to lure it into opening its mouth to breathe fire, creating an opportunity for me to Transfigure and deliver."
"This division of labor is feasible!" Harry lightly tapped the table with his fist, his eyes firm. "I'm very proficient with the Obstacle Jinx; I can accurately hit its wing joints to slow its movements."
"The Venomous Tentacula will deal with the Dragon, and the Biting Cabbage and Snapping Teasing Thistle can deal with the Cat-Panther."
Draco also came back to himself, flipping to the latter half of the parchment, his tone becoming resolute again. "The Cat-Panther's Legilimency and hypnosis are useless against unconscious magical plants. When the time comes, we'll summon the seeds, make them mature, and have the plants entangle its limbs, which will restrict its movement."
As soon as Draco finished speaking, Harry cleared his throat and pulled a crumpled small notebook from his robe pocket, clearly his turn to share his preparations.
"I've simulated various scenarios of encountering dangerous creatures these past few days and compiled a batch of practical spells. You can see if there's anything to add..."
As Harry spoke, he tucked the crumpled notebook back into his pocket and instead pulled out a stack of neatly organized parchment from his backpack.
It was clearly a fresh copy, the handwriting much neater than in the notebook.
He handed the parchment sheets one by one to Dylan, Cedric, and Draco, his finger tracing the paper, his tone serious: "The Summoning Charm we just talked about, I've already written it at the very beginning, and I've even marked a few syllables that are easy to mispronounce."
He paused, then continued to explain: "Besides that, there are the Repelling Charm, Stupefy, Impervius Charm, and Shield Charm; these defensive and offensive spells will definitely come in handy."
Chapter 337 Sirius: Pensieve? Small money!
"Additionally, I've included the Reviving Charm and the Extraction Charm, just in case someone is affected by magic, we can remedy it in time."
"There's also the Cleaning Charm and the Healing Charm. Although the Healing Charm is complex to operate, we can prepare some Strengthening Potions and Dittany Essence in advance, then summon them over with a Summoning Charm to treat injuries immediately."
"These spells are very practical, especially the Flame-Freezing Charm."
Dylan took the parchment, his gaze quickly locking onto a certain line. He tapped it lightly with his finger, "A Dragon's breath is much hotter than ordinary flames and contains sulfur venom. Ordinary protective charms can't block it at all."
"But the Flame-Freezing Charm can form an insulating barrier, at least reducing the direct damage from the Dragon's breath. Even if it rains during the competition, this charm can block the rainwater, preventing the wand from getting damp and malfunctioning."
As he spoke, he waved his wand, and a wisp of pale blue smoke emerged from its tip.
The smoke condensed into a small human silhouette in the air.
Immediately after, Dylan softly chanted a spell, and a transparent film instantly covered the surface of the silhouette.
"This is the effect of the Flame-Freezing Charm; it can protect the body comprehensively."
Then he waved his wand again, and the smoke transformed into a pile of jumbled stones: "When encountering obstacles like these, using the Banishing Charm to clear them is the most convenient."
"If you're dealing with agile creatures like a Cat-Leopard, you can even use the Banishing Charm on a nearby tree trunk to make it fall and block its path. Its uses are very extensive."
The smoke continuously changed shape with his explanation, sometimes mimicking a Dragon's fiery breath being blocked by a barrier, sometimes demonstrating the trajectory of an obstacle being blown away by a spell. Every magic effect was clear and intuitive.
Harry and Draco watched intently, and even Cedric leaned slightly forward, his eyes full of concentration.
They already knew Dylan had a high level of magic, but they never expected him to explain magical principles so thoroughly, even demonstrating their effects in practical scenarios.
This was completely different from simply knowing how to use magic!
The three of them had actually mastered these basic spells, but many of the application methods Dylan mentioned were things they had never considered.
For instance, the Shield Charm isn't just for blocking attacks; it can also envelop the entire body when approaching a Dragon, reducing the scorching heat.
Besides dispelling curses, the Extraction Charm can also remove excess moisture around poisonous tentacula seeds, accelerating their germination.
What surprised them even more was that Dylan subtly incorporated the ideas of war magic into his explanation: "With three or more Wizards cooperating, basic synergistic magic can be performed. For example, if we simultaneously use the Impediment Jinx on the same target, the spell's power will be tripled, enough to temporarily trap a Dragon."
As the explanation neared its end, Dylan's tone suddenly became serious: "There's a crucial point I must remind you of: to cooperate in casting the same magic, superficial understanding isn't enough; deep trust is also required. This is actually very difficult, as we used to belong to different houses and even had disagreements."
He changed the subject, glancing at the parchments and material in their hands: "But today's discussion makes me believe we can do it!"
"Everyone is willing to frankly share the information and ideas they've found, without holding anything back. When a novel idea is heard, we all work together to find flaws and think of solutions."
"These are things that can never be achieved by fighting alone, and they are our most valuable advantage as Hogwarts champions."
Cedric was the first to nod, raising the parchment in his hand: "That's right, just the information compiled today is more than what I could find alone in a month."
Although Draco didn't speak, he quietly hummed in agreement.
Harry nodded even more emphatically, his eyes full of anticipation for their upcoming collaboration.
After carefully checking the dangerous creature response plan and the spell list one by one,
and agreeing to practice synergistic magic during their free time next week,
the four finally concluded their discussion.
Harry initiative collected the scattered parchments, stacking them by house.
Cedric carefully placed the potion bottle containing Dylan's memories into the side pocket of his satchel.
Draco folded the magical plant information into a square and tucked it into the inner pocket of his robes.
Dylan did a final check of the empty classroom, ensuring nothing was left behind. Only then did the four of them exit the room one after another, heading towards their respective houses.
Dylan, meanwhile, went to the library.
Harry walked towards Gryffindor Tower, holding the organized documents, his steps much lighter than when he arrived.
The discussion just now felt like the mist before his eyes had cleared, and the previously vague response strategies became incredibly clear.
Occasionally, students passed by in twos and threes in the corridor. Seeing the documents in his arms, they smiled and nodded in greeting. Harry responded to each of them, the warmth in his heart more real than the sunshine.
Pushing open the common room door, he walked straight to the dormitory. As he stepped onto the stairs, he vaguely heard a familiar voice coming from the direction of the bedside table: "Harry, are you there?"
Harry suddenly stopped in his tracks, slapping his forehead as he remembered.
Today was the weekend, and he had already arranged to meet Sirius in Hogsmeade to talk about the Triwizard Tournament.
He had been so engrossed in discussing magic applications with Dylan and the others—from spell combinations to synergistic techniques, every detail was captivating—that he had completely forgotten about it.
He quickened his pace, rushing into the dormitory. The moment he put down the documents, Sirius's voice rang out again, with a hint of teasing: "You didn't go on a date with some girl, did you, and completely forgot about your godfather?"
Harry quickly dove to the bedside, grabbing the two-way mirror from the bedside table.
The mirror already reflected Sirius's smiling face, his hair even messier than the last time they met, his eyes full of mischief.
"No! Absolutely not!" Harry quickly waved his hand, his cheeks slightly flushed, "Dylan, Cedric, Draco, and I were discussing the tournament. We don't know what the first task is, so we need to prepare in advance."
"So you were strategizing with your companions? That's more important than a date, I suppose."
Sirius raised an eyebrow, much of the teasing fading from his smile, "It seems you all get along well? No squabbles over house matters?"
This question hit exactly what Harry was thinking.
He sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers tracing the mirror's rim, his voice filled with obvious emotion: "More than just well, Dylan coordinated things exceptionally."
"I used to think Slytherin people were all difficult to get along with, especially Draco. But in this discussion, not only did he bring out his family's information, he also proactively suggested a magical plant plan, without holding anything back."
"Dylan also said that for the three of us to work together on the task, we must trust each other. If there's suspicion, accidents can easily happen during the competition."
Harry continued, his voice becoming firmer, "Now we are fighting for Hogwarts, and I don't want to mess things up because of my own prejudices."
"That's right, trust is a team's most powerful weapon." Sirius smiled approvingly, then raised his hand to look out the window, "Don't just talk about these things. Honeydukes in Hogsmeade has freshly baked shortbread this afternoon. If you don't come over soon, they'll all be gone. Hurry over and tell me all the strategies you've come up with."
"Coming, coming!" Harry immediately stood up, grabbed the jacket draped over the back of the chair, and rushed out the door, Sirius's hearty laughter still echoing from the two-way mirror.
He didn't forget to get Ron and Hermione either.
As they pushed open the wooden door of the Three Broomsticks Bar, a wave of warm air, mixed with the scent of malt and baked bread, washed over them.
The bar was packed on the weekend, students in robes of various house colors squeezed between tables and chairs. Laughter and the clinking of cups and plates rose and fell, and even the air carried a festive, slightly tipsy buzz.
"Sirius is over there!" Hermione stood on tiptoe, peering over the bobbing heads, and pointed to a corner by the window.
Sirius was sitting at a round table, his black coat casually draped over the back of a chair, his hair still messy, yet he stood out remarkably in the crowd.
The three of them struggled to push through the crowd, occasionally having to turn sideways to avoid waiters carrying trays, finally reaching the table with difficulty.
Harry almost immediately rushed over, giving Sirius a firm hug: "Sirius!"
Although they could usually talk through the two-way mirror, the real body warmth and touch were far beyond what the mirror could offer. Harry's voice was filled with irrepressible excitement.
Sirius smiled and patted his back, with such force that Harry almost coughed: "Sit down, all of you. Don't stand."
He gestured to the empty seats around them, "Order whatever you want to eat or drink; it's my treat today."
"I'll get the drinks!" Ron's eyes lit up, already captivated by the scent of butterbeer wafting from the bar. He glanced towards the bar, then turned to ask Sirius, "What would you like to drink?"
"Mead is fine, with two ice cubes." Sirius stroked his chin, watching Ron walk briskly towards the bar, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips, "That boy is clever; he knows what you two like to drink without even asking."
His gaze drifted towards the bar, as if seeing the past through the crowd: "When I was at school, whenever we came here, Lupin was always the one who went to the bar."
"Every time, without us even saying anything, he'd bring back James's favorite Firewhisky, my preferred mead, and Peter's juice."
"You probably teased him a lot back then, didn't you?" Hermione said with a smile. She had heard many interesting stories from Harry about Sirius's school days.
"Of course." Sirius laughed even harder, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "We always teased him, saying he must have a crush on Madam Rosmerta, that's why he always rushed to the bar. Every time we said that, his ears would turn red all the way to his neck."
Just as he was speaking, Ron returned with a tray, on which sat three steaming mugs of frothy butterbeer and a glass of amber-colored mead.
The aroma of the butterbeer was especially rich, and the foam on top gently swayed, looking utterly comforting.
Harry and Hermione picked up their mugs, tilted their heads back, and took a big gulp. The warm liquid slid down their throats, and their cheeks instantly flushed with a faint blush.
Sirius picked up his mead, took a small sip, and his gaze fell on Harry's face, nodding: "A few days ago, I felt something was off with you in the two-way mirror. Your brow was so furrowed you could kill a fly, and your dark circles were as heavy as a panda's."
"You look much better today. It seems the morning's discussion wasn't in vain? Quick, tell me, what have you all figured out?"
Hermione and Ron immediately looked at Harry as well, their eyes full of curiosity.
Harry and Dylan had both left in a hurry that morning, and they hadn't had a chance to ask about the discussion's outcome.
Harry put down his mug and recounted everything he, Dylan, Cedric, and Draco had analyzed, from the possible encounter with a Dragon to the plans for dealing with it using magical plants and synergistic spells, in great detail.
"If we really have to face a Dragon..." Ron finished listening, then chugged another gulp of butterbeer, let out a loud burp, and looked worried, "I can't even imagine what my mum would do if she found out."
"I know that clock, an old Weasley family item, quite interesting." Sirius chuckled in agreement, then pressed, "How exactly do you plan to execute it? The combination of Transfiguration and Summoning Charms isn't easy."
Just as Harry was about to continue, he remembered the Pensieve Draco had prepared and added: "Draco said he'd have his family send a Pensieve over, so we can watch Dylan's memories of encountering a Dragon. Cedric said that thing is quite valuable."
"A mere Pensieve, it's not worth much." Sirius scoffed dismissively, his tone nonchalant, "In the future, if you encounter anything that needs money to solve, don't try to outdo him. Just tell me, and I'll get it for you."
"Wouldn't that be a bit much?" Harry blinked, somewhat hesitant, "We still have to compete with Draco. If we can get along, let's not cause any trouble."
"I agree with Harry too." Hermione immediately nodded, "Teamwork is most important right now; there's no need to argue over these small matters."
"Haha, you're right, I was being thoughtless." Sirius said with some emotion, "But this is really good, much better than our time. Back then, James and I never had a good face for anyone from Slytherin; our relationship was as stiff as ice."
"Actually, it still depends on the person." Harry thought of Regulus. Sirius had recently told him about it, also mentioning that Dylan had resolved a major crisis. "Just like your brother, Sirius, even though he was a Slytherin and a Death Eater, he ultimately sacrificed himself to destroy Lord Voldemort's Horcruxes. You can't just label people based on their house."
"Well said!" Sirius patted Harry's shoulder approvingly, his eyes full of praise, "But you still need to be careful; ultimately, it depends on what he does."
He changed the subject, returning to the topic of the competition: "By the way, you just said you collected a lot of spells? Let me see. I just thought of one, the Conjunctivitis Curse. It should be quite effective against a Dragon; it can temporarily blind it."
Harry quickly pulled the parchment covered in spells from his pocket and handed it over.
Sirius unfolded it and saw it densely filled with spell names, uses, and precautions, along with many symbols marking important points. He couldn't help but praise, "Impressive, so meticulously organized!"
"It's not all collected by us."
Harry scratched his head a little sheepishly, "Many of the uses and techniques were thought of by Dylan; I just wrote them down."
Chapter 338: Rita: You're Becoming More and More Charming, a Rising Star of the Wizarding World
"Harry, you absolutely must let me copy this with a Doubling Charm later!" Hermione suddenly said eagerly, her hands instinctively reaching for the wand in her pocket, her eyes fixed on the parchment in Sirius's hand.
The spells and their uses recorded on it were too important for Harry and his friends' preparations; an extra backup meant an extra layer of security.
Harry took the parchment Sirius handed back, smiled, and nodded: "No problem, we'll find an empty table later, and you can copy it at your leisure."
"Then—could you also copy one for me?" Ron immediately leaned over, his tone a bit tentative, still holding an empty non-alcoholic butterbeer mug, "I'm afraid I won't remember everything, and it's convenient to have notes to look at anytime."
"Let me see the content you've organized again, I'll take a close look." Sirius didn't wait for Hermione's response, he took the parchment from Harry's hand, his fingers gently caressing the surface, and lowered his head to read it carefully.
"Impervious Charm, Repelling Charm, Shield Charm—"
As he read, he softly recited the spell names, his brows sometimes relaxed, sometimes slightly furrowed, clearly pondering the combined uses of these spells.
After a long while, he slowly put down the parchment, a hint of helplessness in his tone: "To be honest, I have nothing more to add. You've already organized it quite comprehensively, from defense to attack, and even emergency remedies, covering almost all possible situations."
He paused, his finger tapping the edge of the parchment, his tone becoming serious: "If I had to find something to add, it would be methods for practical practice. For example, casting a Shield Charm on a teammate while moving is not a simple matter; you need to ensure the spell's coverage while also not interfering with your teammate's movements due to magic fluctuations."
He pointed to a line of annotation in the notes and continued: "You also wrote here that if the Shield Charm is unstable, it will become an obstacle for your teammate. Have you thought about how to solve this problem?"
"We are worried about that, and we're already discussing practice plans." Harry quickly replied, a hint of relief in his voice, "We plan to go to an empty classroom after school every day, starting with casting spells on teammates from a fixed position, and then trying moving cooperation once we're proficient."
"That's good." Sirius raised his fist, lightly resting it against his mouth, his voice a little lower, with a hint of satisfaction in his eyes, "Hogwarts has four Champions; being able to help each other and practice together is much better than fighting alone. Back in my day, James and I didn't have such good conditions."
After a while longer.
"Oh, by the way, it's already been a week." Ron suddenly spoke, holding the parchment Hermione had just copied with a Doubling Charm, his eyes a bit unfocused, clearly pondering other things, "How come there's no new hint for the Triwizard Tournament yet? They haven't even announced the specific time for the first task."
"I'm not sure either." Harry shrugged, recalling their previous conversation, "Cedric helped ask someone from the judging panel before, and they said the original plan was to hold the first task at the end of this month. It might be because of the extra Champion, so they're still adjusting."
"Actually, this is better." Hermione immediately interjected, her tone full of optimism, "You have more time to prepare, and then you'll be more composed when facing dangerous creatures. It's better than rushing into battle."
"Almost forgot what I just said." Sirius suddenly straightened his back, his voice instantly regaining its usual vitality, his eyes shining, "Harry, I'll teach you the Conjunctivitis Curse. This spell is especially effective against Dragons; it can temporarily blind them, giving you time. After you learn it, tell Dylan and the others, and you can all practice together."
As he spoke, he picked up a small spoon from the table and pointed to the spoon handle, saying: "Watch carefully, pay attention to the stress in the spell's pronunciation, and keep your wand tip steady—"
"Okay! Great!" Harry's eyes lit up, and he immediately nodded, his tone full of anticipation, his body unconsciously leaning forward, "Then where should we practice? If it's an empty classroom, we might run into other students."
"Let's go to the Shrieking Shack." Sirius said with a smile, tapping the table lightly with his finger, a glint of cunning in his eyes, "It's out of the way, usually no one goes there, it's very quiet, perfect for practicing magic without being disturbed."
"Shrieking Shack?" Ron immediately frowned, almost dropping the parchment in his hand, "I remember Hermione mentioning it before."
He turned to Hermione, his tone a bit uncertain, "Isn't that the haunted house that's cursed, that the Hogsmeade villagers don't dare to go near? I even heard it's the most haunted place in all of England?"
"Oh? Is it that famous now?" Sirius couldn't help but laugh, his eyes full of nostalgia, as if recalling some interesting past event, "Did I never tell you about it?"
Harry carefully recalled in his mind; from meeting Sirius until now, he had indeed never mentioned the Shrieking Shack, so he gently shook his head: "I don't think so."
Hermione and Ron also nodded, clearly as clueless as Harry about its past.
"Well, perfect," Sirius's eyes flashed with reminiscence, a gentle smile gracing his lips, "When we go to practice, I'll tell you about the fun times James, Lupin, and I had there back then, and how we secretly studied there."
As he spoke, he stood up, picked up his coat draped over the back of the chair, and said to Harry and his friends: "Wait for me, I'm going to buy some more food from Madam Rosmerta. Practicing takes energy, so you can have something to eat then."
With that, he quickly walked to the bar, and soon returned with a paper bag containing a few sandwiches and a small can of nuts.
The four then walked out of the Three Broomsticks Bar together, heading towards the Shrieking Shack.
Just as the Charms Class bell rang, Dylan and Neville walked out of the classroom together, while Harry and Ron lingered behind.
As they reached the staircase, Neville, who was ahead, suddenly stopped and pointed to the corner of the corridor ahead, his tone a bit surprised: "Is that Mr. Ollivander? Why is he at Hogwarts?"
Dylan looked in the direction he pointed, and saw an old man with white hair and round glasses standing at the end of the corridor, carrying a familiar dark brown wooden box.
It was the owner of Ollivanders Wand Shop in Diagon Alley.
He couldn't help but walk over, then bowed gracefully: "Good afternoon, Mr. Ollivander."
"Good afternoon, Dylan." Ollivander smiled and nodded, his eyes behind his lenses full of gentleness. He looked Dylan up and down and asked softly, "Do you feel pressured to participate in the Triwizard Tournament alone?"
"I'm still a little worried." Dylan said honestly, "After all, the situation is special this time, with one more Champion, the difficulty of the tasks will definitely increase accordingly. I'm also afraid I haven't prepared enough."
He paused, then changed the subject: "But besides being worried, I'm also very much looking forward to the upcoming competition. No matter what the outcome, I believe that as long as I do my best and leave no regrets, that's enough."
How could he leave any regrets at such a good opportunity to extensively plunder slaves—no, people, and various test subjects?
"Having such a mindset is excellent." Ollivander's tone was full of praise. He lightly patted the wooden box in his hand, then suddenly changed the subject, "By the way, can you guess why I've come to Hogwarts this time? Here's a hint—it's related to the Triwizard Tournament."
"Related to the Triwizard Tournament?" Dylan raised an eyebrow upon hearing this.
The competition rules clearly stipulated that Champions could only bring their wands, and as the only casting tool, if a wand had any problems, the consequences would be unimaginable.
He looked at the familiar dark brown wooden box in Ollivander's hand, and quickly found the answer, saying with certainty: "We can only bring our wands when we compete. It is the most important companion and absolutely cannot have any problems. You're here to help us check the condition of our wands, aren't you?"
"Exactly, you are very perceptive." Ollivander smiled and nodded, raising his hand to pat the wooden box, "It contains professional tools for testing wands. Let's go upstairs first; the Champions from the other schools should be arriving soon. Let's not keep everyone waiting too long."
Dylan turned to Neville and said he'd talk later, then quickly followed Ollivander's footsteps, ascending the slowly moving staircase together.
In the portraits on both sides of the staircase, the figures all peered out, curiously examining Ollivander.
This renowned wandmaker rarely came to Hogwarts on his own accord.
The two soon arrived at the door of a rather small classroom.
Pushing open the door, quite a few people had already gathered inside.
Dumbledore sat in a soft chair by the window, his silver-white beard hanging down to his chest, conversing in low tones with Karkaroff beside him. Ludo Bagman and Old Barty Crouch stood by the podium, holding thick folders, seemingly checking some content.
What surprised Dylan even more was a familiar figure standing in the corner of the classroom.
A striking magenta robe, and a glittering hairpin in her golden curly hair.
It was Rita Skeeter, a reporter from The Daily Prophet. She held a Quick-Quotes Quill and was vigilantly observing everyone present, clearly looking for interview material.
Mr. Ollivander walked directly to Dumbledore, and the two began to converse in low voices.
Rita Skeeter, as if discovering a new continent, quickly walked in front of Dylan, her face adorned with a professional smile, and her voice deliberately sweet: "Dylan, would you like to give me an exclusive interview? I promise to put your content in the most prominent position in the report, even longer than Harry's article."
"Sorry, I'm too busy," Dylan said calmly, without the slightest ripple in his tone.
After Old Deng's inexplicably dragged him into becoming some kind of youth representative, Rita had tried to interview him multiple times, but he had always refused, citing academic commitments.
"Of course, but you're not busy now, are you?" Rita shrugged, deliberately raising her voice. "However, it's not really suitable for an interview right now; this is very private, you understand."
Rita winked at Dylan.
"Your charm is growing, a rising star in the Wizarding World! Even Mr. Ollivander has specifically postponed the wand inspection time for you."
Seeing Dylan raise his eyebrows, she immediately leaned in closer, lowering her voice, but still loud enough for those around to hear: "You don't know yet, do you? Just now, several Principals were still arguing about the inspection time."
"One Principal said that it gets dark early now, and postponing the inspection would affect the lighting for the group photo, making the pictures look bad. Headmaster Dumbledore, however, shut him down with a single sentence, saying, 'It's truly inappropriate to make students delay their classes for a wand inspection'—oh, look how beautifully that was put; that Principal immediately had nothing more to say."
She paused, a hint of slyness flashing in her eyes, and changed the subject: "However, as far as I know, 'The Boy Who Lived,' Harry, would probably be very happy to miss Potion Class. As for which student would regret delaying their classes, Mr. Star, who do you think it would be? Draco? After all, Malfoychildren always value their grades highly."
Before Dylan could answer, Rita leaned in closer again, lowering her voice even further: "Honestly, the Triwizard Tournament has become so special this time, with an extra champion and the project difficulty unclear. It must be related to some Principals' little schemes."
"If you could reveal more details, in a couple of days, they might receive quite a few 'kind regards' from readers—for example, letters 'caring' about their educational philosophy."
"Ms. Skeeter," Dylan gently shook his head, his tone still calm but with an undeniable firmness, "As Mr. Ollivander said, our focus now is on preparing for the competition. Do you think I would disrupt the normal exchanges between magic schools for such an unimportant matter?"
His words were neither harsh nor soft, clearly stating his position while cleverly steering the conversation back to the competition itself, giving Rita no opportunity to continue pestering him.
Rita pouted, clearly not expecting such a blunt refusal, and could only turn away, casting her gaze towards Harry, who had just entered the classroom.
Watching Rita's retreating back, Dylan suddenly felt that this would probably be the easiest interview he would face in the future.
He hadn't been pressed for gossip, hadn't been deliberately led to make controversial statements, and even though there was a brief entanglement, he had decisively fended it off, feeling no discomfort throughout.
And Rita's appearance, to him, was actually quite amusing; she stood on the other side of the classroom, her magenta robes hanging loosely on her, her once sparkling eyes now dull, her fingers unconsciously fiddling with the Quick-Quotes Quill.
Her listless look was exactly like the "sad bug that couldn't find nettles" Luna had once described, with even the corners of her mouth slightly downturned.
Dylan knew exactly why she was so disappointed.
After all, they had dealt with each other a few times, and although he had always pushed her away, she knew that the content he spoke would never be exaggerated.
Any interview he participated in had to be based on objective facts, without exaggerated speculation or sensational guesses, which clearly did not align with Rita's usual writing style.
After all, it was content that would make it into the report.
Dylan didn't want to attract too much inexplicable attention.
Although Rita could also write such conventional reports, it would undoubtedly take more time to refine the details, far less effortless and enjoyable than writing gossip news.
Thinking of this, Dylan suddenly had an idea. He took two steps towards Rita and said, "Ms. Skeeter, there's something I think perhaps only you can help with."
"Oh?" Rita immediately stopped what she was doing, her previously slumped shoulders tensing slightly. The Quick-Quotes Quill she had adjusted stood upright on the parchment with a *thump*, its tip trembling slightly, clearly ready to record.
Her eyes instantly lit up, and her voice held a hint of eagerness: "I'm the most suitable person? I didn't expect to hear such words from the mouth of a magic star."
She leaned forward, her voice full of anticipation: "You wouldn't still want me to write those bland reports, would you? Have you changed your mind?"
"Do you want to teach some Principals a lesson?" She grew more and more excited, even beginning to incite him, "Honestly, those little schemes they pulled before really deserve to be exposed. You don't need to feel any burden at all."
Dylan's face showed no ripple, his tone still steady, as if he hadn't heard her incitement: "Ms. Skeeter, I'd like to ask how much you know about the magic school 'Durmstrang'? Please note, I'm only asking about the school itself, not involving other people or events."
"Only about the school?" The excitement on Rita's face instantly faded, her brows furrowed tightly, and her fingers unconsciously tapped the table as she began to search for relevant information in her mind. "The most unique thing about Durmstrang should be their curriculum."
"Students there can systematically study Dark Arts, unlike other schools that only teach defense. And they never admit Muggle-born students, which is very rare among European magic schools."
She paused, then added: "Another widely known fact is that they expelled Gellert Grindelwald—that Dark Wizard who almost dominated the Wizarding World back then. It's said that his extreme ideas were exposed while he was studying at Durmstrang, which led to his expulsion by the school."
"But this school hasn't had much presence these past few years; it's been quite quiet," Rita's tone was somewhat casual, as if recalling irrelevant old news. "I only recently found out that Viktor Krum is a Durmstrang student while researching for the Triwizard Tournament report. I never expected such a low-key school to produce such a famous Quidditch player."
She frowned in thought, then added another point: "If you go back further, there are only unconfirmed rumors left. For example, their method of Principal succession—there's news that Durmstrang doesn't look at qualifications or ability; as long as you can kill the previous Principal, you can inherit the position. It sounds like a barbarian's rule."
"Speaking of which, Durmstrang is indeed quite mysterious," Rita's curiosity was thoroughly piqued. She took two steps forward, her Quick-Quotes Quill tapping lightly on the parchment, her eyes full of inquiry. "Mr. Hokewood, I'm getting more and more curious—what exactly do you plan to do by suddenly asking these things?"
"Ms. Skeeter," Dylan did not answer directly, but instead changed the subject, saying calmly, "I have read your work, *Armando Dippet: Master or Moron?*"
"Oh? You've actually read that book?" Rita's eyes instantly lit up, and her face immediately filled with a triumphant smile, her previous disappointment completely swept away.
She even unconsciously straightened the ribbon on her chest, her voice filled with unconcealed anticipation, "Mr. Hokewood, what did you think after reading it? Objectively speaking, the depth of this book is quite extraordinary."
"Objectively speaking, it's very consistent with your usual style," Dylan's tone remained steady, without any exaggeration. "The language is sharp, even scathing, with a strong sense of incitement throughout, easily guiding the reader's emotions."
"Exactly!" Rita immediately nodded repeatedly, clapping her hands together forcefully, clearly highly approving of this assessment. "I want readers to feel the power of the words at a glance, rather than reading those bland, mundane accounts."
"Besides that, there's another very important point," Dylan changed the subject again, his gaze falling on the quill in Rita's hand. "Ms. Skeeter, your writing speed is incredibly fast."
"Oh? You even noticed that?" Rita showed a surprised expression, raising an eyebrow, her tone containing a hint of astonishment and a touch of secret pride. "Very few people pay attention to that."