Chapter 343 The Triwizard Tournament Begins!
"The two closest to us, the one with silver-blue scales is a Swedish Short-Snout, and the green-scaled one next to it is a common Welsh Green."
"But to be honest, they're not in the mood for compliments right now—because they're not in good shape."
He paused and explained, "We transported them here from the Dragon Reserve, and to prevent them from getting agitated during the journey, we gave them sedatives every six hours."
"We originally planned to stop the Potion and let them rest and adapt to the new environment once they arrived, but it ended up causing problems."
"They had slept for too long, and now that the medication has worn off, they have too much energy to expend, which is why they're so restless now."
Charlie pointed to the Swedish Short-Snout pacing back and forth in its enclosure, a hint of helplessness in his voice: "Simply put, it's 'irritability after oversleeping,' the same way people get grumpy after sleeping too long."
"But fortunately, their attention is all on the Wizards around them, and they haven't paid much attention to us."
Just as Charlie said, the two Dragons indeed did not turn their gaze towards the champions.
The Swedish Short-Snout was roaring at the Wizards wandering outside the enclosure, occasionally puffing a small wisp of white smoke from its silver-blue snout.
The common Welsh Green was twisting its body and lashing its long tail, trying to break free from the iron chain around its neck. As its tail swept the ground, the accumulated snow was splashed over a meter high.
The Wizards outside the enclosure remained vigilant at all times; some aimed their wands at the Dragons' snouts, clearly to prevent them from breathing fire.
Others pointed their wands at the chain links, muttering incantations, attempting to use magic to strengthen the chains' restraint and prevent accidents.
Looking deeper into the clearing, the areas where the Hebridean Black and the Norwegian Ridgebackwere kept were equally restless.
The Hebridean Black's scales gleamed with a dull metallic luster.
It occasionally raised its head, letting out a deafening roar towards the sky, so loud that the ground subtly trembled.
The Norwegian Ridgeback appeared even more ferocious; the bone spikes on its back glinted coldly in the sunlight, and after each roar, it would breathe a dazzling burst of Dragon fire from its mouth.
The orange-red flames shot skyward, forming a brief pillar of fire in the air, before slowly dissipating into the cold air.
"See that black-scaled Dragon?" Charlie pointed to the Hebridean Black, his tone becoming serious, "It's called a Hebridean Black, and its temperament is the most volatile of these few. Its aggression is extremely strong; normally, in the reserve, it has to be guarded with extra care, and it will attack if you get even a little close."
He then turned and pointed to the Norwegian Ridgeback, his tone softening slightly: "The one next to it is a Norwegian Ridgeback, a bit milder than the Black Dragon, but it's not to be trifled with—it not only attacks creatures on land but also actively hunts young whales in the sea, strong enough to drag small whales ashore."
Harry, hearing the name Norwegian Ridgeback, couldn't help but examine it a few more times, and he also glanced at Dylan.
When they first started at Hogwarts, Hagrid had secretly hatched a Norwegian Ridgeback egg and named it Norbert.
At that time, he, Ron, and Hermione had helped Hagrid care for Norbert.
Later, it was reported by someone.
Hagrid had no choice but to send Norbert, who had grown quite a bit, away.
Into Dylan's hands.
Unexpectedly, after so long.
To see this large version of the Dragon here again, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity.
Hagrid's gaze followed the Norwegian Ridgeback, watching the cold glint of the bone spikes on its back, and suddenly let out a heavy sigh, his voice full of emotion: "A Norwegian Ridgeback… I haven't seen one in so many years, and it's still so spirited, it looks truly beautiful!"
Before the two could chat more, a more violent commotion suddenly erupted from deeper in the clearing.
The Hebridean Black and the Norwegian Ridgeback seemed to have been provoked; they suddenly stopped roaring at the sky, slowly lowered their massive heads, and their golden pupils fixed intently on the Wizards surrounding the enclosure, their eyes full of hostility.
Their throats subtly swelled, and tiny sparks began to seep from the corners of their mouths, clearly preparing to breathe fire.
"Oh no! They're going to breathe fire!" A Wizard in a dark blue uniform immediately shouted. He was the captain responsible for controlling these two Dragons, and his face was grim. "Everyone, prepare!"
"Stupefy!"
Over a dozen Wizards responded simultaneously.
They quickly adjusted their positions, aiming their wands at the Dragons' heads and bodies.
Beams of dazzling light shot from their wand tips, like dense raindrops, striking the Hebridean Blackand the Norwegian Ridgeback.
After being hit by the red light, the two Dragons' movements noticeably slowed.
They swayed unsteadily, their massive heads constantly shaking as if resisting the Charms's effects, while puffs of black smoke spewed from their nostrils and low growls rumbled in their throats, clearly still struggling, not wanting to fall unconscious.
"It's not enough! The Charms isn't effective enough! Again!" The captain shouted again, "Everyone, concentrate fire, aim for their necks and bellies, those are the areas with relatively weaker magical defenses!"
Another volley of light shot out; this time, the Charmss precisely hit the Dragons' vulnerable spots.
The two Dragons, already swaying and disoriented, could no longer hold on. Their massive bodies suddenly sank, and with a resounding "boom," they collapsed rigidly to the ground.
Two shallow craters were formed in the ground, and snow splashed into the air.
The colossal sound produced when these two enormous Dragons fell echoed throughout the entire clearing.
Even the tall trees tens of meters away trembled slightly, and the accumulated snow on their branches rustled down, as if it were lightly snowing.
The champions standing nearby were also affected by this tremor.
Harry instinctively took two steps back before steadying himself.
Draco, meanwhile, reached out to steady himself against a nearby wooden board, his brows tightly furrowed.
Although Cedric and Dylan stood more steadily, they could clearly feel the ground beneath their feet subtly shaking, and even their breathing became somewhat rapid due to the sudden loud noise.
"Phew… We finally got them under control." The captain sighed in relief, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead. "Good thing we reacted in time. If they had really breathed fire, the enclosure probably would have been burned through."
Seeing the champions retreat due to the ground tremors, it was understandable.
Since the implementation of the International Statute of Secrecy regarding Dragons, these powerful creatures have either been relocated to remote Dragon reserves and cared for by professionals.
Or they dwell in secluded, rarely visited deep mountains and old forests, with very little human contact.
Unless one works professionally in Dragon research or protection, ordinary people rarely get the chance to come face-to-face with a Dragon in their lifetime.
Now, seeing five Dragons of different forms at once, each exuding a suffocating deterrent, feeling fear and instinctively retreating is a perfectly normal reaction.
Harry stood rooted, watching the slightly flustered expressions of the champions from other schools, and secretly congratulated himself.
Fortunately, through Dylan's Pensieve earlier, he, Cedric, and Draco had witnessed the ferocity of Dragons in memory fragments.
Although the scenes in memory were not as shocking as the live experience, and the presence was slightly inferior.
But the advantage was in the quantity.
Having seen various Dragon attack methods, he had some idea of what to expect, unlike others who were completely unprepared.
Yet, even so, Harry couldn't help but ponder.
Now, truly standing before a Dragon, he could vaguely comprehend the oppressive feeling of being chased and cornered by gigantic creatures.
Just imagining a dozen Dragons breathing fire and chasing him from behind.
He felt his heart race, let alone experiencing it firsthand.
Just then.
Someone pointed to the end of the clearing and shouted, "There's another one over there!"
Everyone looked in the direction of the finger, only to see a Hungarian Horntail confined in the farthest area of the clearing.
Its size was even larger than the other Dragons, and when its wings spread, they almost obscured a quarter of the sky.
Despite being dozens of meters away, this Hungarian Horntail seemed to have sensed the commotion.
It slowly turned its head, its golden eyes fixed unblinkingly on the champions, its gaze full of ferocity, as if it would charge over at any second.
Suddenly, a few sparks shot from its nostrils, its enormous mouth snapped open, revealing sharp fangs, and a ball of orange-red Dragon fire instantly erupted, heading towards the group.
The Dragon fire traced a long arc in the air; although the distance was great, the scorching heat still clearly reached them.
"Watch out!" Charlie Weasley reacted extremely quickly, raising his wand almost the instant the Dragon fire erupted and loudly casting the Charms, "Protego!"
A transparent barrier instantly formed in front of everyone, firmly blocking the incoming attack.
Fortunately, the distance was great enough that the Dragon fire gradually weakened during its flight, finally landing on the snow a few meters in front of the barrier.
With a "hiss."
The snow instantly melted into water, emitting puffs of white smoke.
But even without a direct hit, the rolling heat wave carried by the Dragon fire still washed over them.
Everyone suddenly felt as if they had been thrown into a furnace, their facial skin burning hot.
"Glacius."
Dylan gently waved his wand, and a pale blue magical energy field rapidly spread out, enveloping all the champions, Charlie, and Hagrid.
As soon as the energy field formed, the scorching sensation instantly receded, replaced by a gentle coolness that perfectly neutralized the lingering heat.
Before the champions could react, the cold November air once again enveloped their bodies. The sudden shift from hot to cold, though abrupt, felt remarkably comfortable.
"Perfect!" Charlie Weasley lowered his wand, his voice filled with admiration, "This kind of precise temperature-controlling magic isn't simple; your control over magic is really impressive!"
At the same time.
The Wizards responsible for controlling the Hungarian Horntail also moved quickly; a dozen beams of light simultaneously shot towards the Dragon, another round of concentrated Stupefy Charmss.
The Hungarian Horntail struggled a few times, but its massive body eventually crashed heavily to the ground, completely losing all movement.
"This Hungarian Horntail is very dangerous."
Charlie pointed to the fallen Dragon and introduced it to the champions, "Not only is its fire-breathing ability excellent, with high-temperature, long-range Dragon fire, but its body itself is an extremely threatening weapon. Its claws can easily tear through steel, and the strong winds generated by its flapping wings can interfere with spellcasting. If you encounter it later, you must be extra careful."
No sooner had he finished speaking than the Swedish Short-Snout and the common Welsh Green in the adjacent area began to stir again.
Despite several struggles, they couldn't break free from the iron chains, clearly having lost patience. Sparks continuously shot from their nostrils, and low roars rumbled in their throats, evidently preparing to breathe Dragon fire to vent their anger.
The Wizards gave them no chance, immediately changing direction and unleashing another volley of Stupefy Charmss.
Two red beams hit the necks of the two Dragons respectively; they shook their heads and finally collapsed to the ground, becoming completely still.
Charlie Weasley shrugged helplessly and turned to everyone, saying, "There's no helping it, these fellows have too much energy."
"Now that they've all quieted down, you can get closer to observe them, and get a good look at the 'opponents' you'll be facing."
"And remember their physical characteristics and attack habits, it will be very helpful for the upcoming tasks."
With that, he led Hagrid and the champions towards the nearest Swedish Short-Snout enclosure.
Charlie led everyone to the Swedish Short-Snout's enclosure, and the champions gathered by the wooden boards, carefully observing the unconscious Dragon.
Some reached out to touch the protective runes on the fence, some recorded the color and texture of the Dragon scales, and others quietly discussed the attack scenes they had witnessed earlier.
Just then, someone from another house suddenly pointed to the end of the clearing and asked Charlie, "Mr. Weasley, was the tail of that Hungarian Horntail also very aggressive? I think I saw its bony tail spikes scratch the ground when it swung its tail just now."
Charlie heard this, turned to look at the person, and responded calmly, "Hmm."
There was no extra explanation, nor any additional details, as if he was deliberately controlling the amount of information in his answer.
Immediately after, another Champion asked, "And is its fire-breathing range the longest among these Dragons? When it breathed Dragon fire just now, it felt like it shot much further than the other Dragons."
Charlie still only gave a brief response: "That's right."
After several rounds of questions and answers, some gradually realized that something was amiss.
No matter what questions were asked about the Dragon's weaknesses or specific attack data, Charlieonly gave simple "yes" or "no" answers, never revealing more details.
Harry and Cedric exchanged glances, and the answer quickly came to them.
Clearly, someone had already given instructions beforehand for Charlie and his team to control the information output, to avoid leaking too much crucial information about the Dragons.
After all, the core test of the first task was to face unknown challenges; knowing too much in advance would diminish the meaning of the test.
Yes, that's how it was.
Looking at the Wizards responsible for guarding the Dragons, they all showed obvious signs of fatigue.
They had to transport the Dragons, feed them Potions regularly, and then, upon arrival, busy themselves with building fences and setting up protective Charmss, with hardly any rest.
Now that the Dragons were controlled by a Stupefy, their taut nerves finally relaxed. Many leaned against the wooden boards, rubbing their shoulders, their eyes full of weariness, clearly just wanting to finish the remaining work quickly and get a good night's rest.
The Champions stayed in the enclosure for about half an hour before walking back with Hagrid.
Hagrid walked exceptionally slowly, occasionally looking back in the direction of the Dragons, his eyes full of reluctance, and muttering softly, "I'll come see you again next time."
The Champions' moods, however, were noticeably lower.
After witnessing the ferocity of the Dragons up close, they felt the pressure of the first task more acutely.
They barely spoke on the way back, only wanting to leave the Forbidden Forest quickly and find a quiet place to digest the shocking sights and sounds of less than an hour.
On the other side.
Rita Skeeter's report on the Triwizard Tournament had already been published in the latest issue of The Daily Prophet.
According to Dylan's earlier request, the language in this report was noticeably gentler, lacking her usual sharp and cutting style, and focusing more on objective information.
The report began with a brief introduction to the three schools of magic participating in the Tournament.
It then focused on the Champions from each of the three schools, providing detailed descriptions based on their abilities and characteristics.
When mentioning the Beauxbatons Champions, Rita specifically pointed out their deep accumulation in the field of Alchemy, speculating that by the time the first task began, they might use Alchemical tools to meet the challenge.
The article also cited common tools such as "Alchemical shields possibly for defense" and "Alchemical Potions to increase speed," prompting readers to speculate on Beauxbatons' tactics.
And in introducing the Durmstrang Champions, the core of the report fell on Viktor Krum.
Rita wrote that Durmstrang students had extremely high expectations for Krum, with many even forming a "Krum Fan Club" specifically to collect and analyze his match videos.
"Everyone believes that Krum will achieve excellent results in this Tournament with his outstanding flying skills and powerful magical abilities."
Every line conveyed recognition of Krum's strength.
As soon as this report was published, it sparked considerable discussion in the Magical world, with many Wizards beginning to speculate on the strength differences between the various schools.
Students from the three schools were even more attentive, discussing the contents of the report throughout the Castle, adding more tension to the upcoming first task.
By the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, Fred was holding the latest issue of The Daily Prophet, his finger resting on the paragraph about Viktor Krum, his eyes wide, his face full of disbelief.
He looked up at the people sitting around him, his voice filled with obvious confusion: "Look, everyone, is this really a report written by Rita Skeeter? Did I pick up the wrong newspaper?"
George leaned over to look at the author's byline next to the newspaper title and nodded: "That's right, it's her name. What's wrong? Is there a problem with what she wrote?"
"A big problem!" Fred spread the newspaper on the table, pointing to the paragraph about Krum, "Look, this report describes Krum's strength wonderfully, and the part about Durmstrang students forming a fan club is quite vivid."
"But! She barely made any sarcastic remarks! When she usually writes reports, doesn't she always find an opportunity to pick flaws, or add some speculative gossip? This time, at most, she just emphasized 'everyone has high expectations for Krum,' putting a little pressure on him. This is too abnormal; it's completely unlike her style."
Neville also picked up the newspaper and flipped through it, agreeing: "It is a bit strange. Last time she wrote a report on the Quidditch World Cup, she made many players seem like they deliberately lost. This time she's so 'gentle.' Oh, did she write about the Hogwarts Champions? How are Harry and his friends preparing, did the report mention it?"
"How should I put it… you'll know if you let me read a passage."
Fred cleared his throat, picked up the newspaper, found the paragraph about Hogwarts, and slowly read, "Harry Potter – for every British Wizard, this name will not be unfamiliar."
"From thwarting a Dark Wizard's attack as a baby to resolving Castle crises multiple times after enrollment, his experiences have long become a legend in the Magical world."
"As a Hogwarts Champion in this Tournament, his performance will undoubtedly be highly anticipated."
After reading this passage, Fred put down the newspaper and spread his hands: "Did you hear it? It feels like she said a lot—'legendary experiences,' 'highly anticipated'—but in reality, she didn't say any useful information at all. She didn't mention what magic he's been practicing recently, didn't say what preparations he has for facing Dragons, didn't even mention his usual training state. It's as if she said nothing at all."
George rubbed his chin, his brows slightly furrowed: "Something is indeed off. I think she's deliberately helping Hogwarts hide its strength?"
"Look at the part where she wrote about Cedric. She only said he 'is skilled in Transfiguration magic,' and then gave a few of the most basic Transfiguration examples from textbooks, like turning a teacup into a rabbit or a feather into a key. Who can't do those?"
"She didn't mention Cedric's truly impressive abilities, such as being able to perform complex Transfiguration while moving. What's the difference between that and saying 'Cedric knows how to use a wand'? It's just correct nonsense."
"Not just Cedric! The reports on Harry and Draco are the same!" Fred suddenly reacted, pointing to another paragraph in the newspaper, "Look at what she wrote about Harry: she only mentioned that he 'is proficient in Expelliarmus' and the 'Patronus Charms,' but these two Charmss are basic Charmss that many advanced Wizards know! For Draco, she only said he 'is skilled in precise spellcasting,' without even mentioning what specific types of Charmss he excels at."
"She didn't reveal any tactics they might use once they're on the field, nor did she say what preparations they made for the Dragons, as if she was deliberately blurring the information."
"And Dylan!" George added, his tone even more puzzled, "The report only said he 'has participated in multiple magical incidents in the past and is experienced,' without a single word about his current preparations."
"Think about it, if it were the old Rita, encountering such a special situation of 'the goblet of firechoosing an extra Champion,' she would have long been digging into topics like 'what exactly went wrong with the goblet of fire' and 'why Dylan became an additional Champion.' How could she be so 'submissive' this time?"
Neville tilted his head, suddenly proposing a bold hypothesis: "Could Headmaster Dumbledore have intervened? After all, Rita always liked to write exaggerated reports before. This Tournament concerns the reputation of multiple schools, so the Principal might have spoken to her, telling her not to delve into sensitive issues or excessively sensationalize the Champions' privacy."
"It might not just be Headmaster Dumbledore!" Fred immediately added, "Don't forget, there are Principals from other schools too."
"Headmaster Dumbledore has a gentle personality and might communicate well with Rita, but someone like Professor Karkaroff might exert pressure in a more forceful way."
"No matter how much Rita likes to dig for news, she wouldn't dare offend several school Principals at once, would she?"
George nodded, finding this speculation very reasonable.
The few of them discussed back and forth, and the more they talked, the more they felt Rita's report was full of suspicious points.
The firewood in the fireplace crackled, casting their shadows on the wall, and as the discussion deepened, the confusion on everyone's faces grew heavier.
Behind this seemingly "gentle and objective" report, how many unknown reasons were truly hidden?
"Whatever the reason, the competition will begin in a few days."
Rita's report was like a stone thrown into a calm lake, stirring up quite a ripple among Hogwartsstudents.
Students finally learned about some of the Champions' magical abilities, instantly giving them much more to talk about.
Some compared notes with the newspaper, while others debated Beauxbatons' Alchemical tools.
The discussion enthusiasm for the first task was pushed to a new height, with even topics in the dining hall almost entirely dominated by "Champion strengths and weaknesses" and "task predictions."
But the Champions, who already knew the contents of the task, were not in the mood to participate in these discussions.
They knew in their hearts that the real test was coming, and every single second now was crucial.
This was especially true for Harry, Draco, and Cedric; even at night, they would secretly grab their broomsticks and avoid the crowds to practice near the Whomping Willow.
To avoid developing a dependency, they specifically did not tell Dylan about their extra practice, wanting to improve their coping abilities through their own efforts.
This persistence caused them a lot of hardship.
Sometimes they would be scratched by the Whomping Willow's branches for not dodging in time, and sometimes they would collide with each other due to errors in casting the Shield Charm.
Every time they finished practicing, they would have to go to the hospital wing with injuries, listening to Madam Pomfrey nag about "not taking care of themselves," while frowning and forcing down bitter healing Potions.
In this atmosphere, both fervent and tense, time passed day by day, finally bringing December 1st.
The official start date of the Triwizard Tournament's first task!
Chapter 344: Here, this is for you; it's said to bring good luck.
On the morning of the first task.
The air in Hogwarts Castle seemed heavier than usual.
The usually boisterous corridors were quieter, and students' footsteps were lighter.
Occasional conversations carried an imperceptible tension, an invisible atmosphere of anxiety quietly spreading.
Dylan first truly felt this atmosphere on his way back to the tower from the Greenhouse with Neville.
The two had just returned the magical plant samples Professor Sprout had assigned to the Greenhouse.
They then saw the Weasley twins running towards them, panting, clutching two crumpled, hand-drawn cards.
On them were crooked drawings of flames and brooms, with the words "Go, Go!" written beside them.
"Dy-Dylan!" Fred's face was flushed from running, and he was stammering slightly. He gestured at the designs on the card, hastily saying, "You must, must do your best today! We'll be cheering for you from below! Don't, don't be nervous!"
George also nodded, the card in his hand nearly misshapen. Beads of sweat trickled down his temples, and despite cheering for someone else, his hands wouldn't stop trembling.
Dylan couldn't help but smile, seeing the brothers so nervous they were almost tripping over themselves.
Compared to him, the one about to compete, these two were clearly more anxious.
"We've already given Harry his card, so don't you be nervous!"
"Don't worry, you can be nervous for me."
By the time they reached the Great Hall for breakfast, this tense atmosphere was even more pronounced.
Students who usually only moved between their respective House tables today made detours to the Gryffindor table. Some held small homemade gifts, others just blushed and said "Go, Go!"
Still others stood hesitantly some distance away for a long time before daring to quietly hand over a note filled with blessings.
After many such instances,
Those around Dylan noticed something was amiss.
Neville put down his toast and looked at Dylan, who had just seen off a gift-giving student, with a strange expression: "Dylan, I feel like… these students coming to offer blessings are more nervous than you are? Look at that Hufflepuff girl just now; her voice was trembling when she said 'Go, Go!', and her hand was clutching the tablecloth."
"Oh, right! When I was coming from the Gryffindor table just now, I vaguely heard people talking about the first task involving Dragons."
Fred suddenly clapped his hands, as if remembering some important information. He turned to Dylan, "Could it be that everyone knows you'll be facing a Dragon, so they're nervous for you?"
"If it really is a Dragon, then it's normal for Dylan not to be nervous, right?" George said with certainty. "Someone so powerful with magic, I think the Dragon should be the one to be nervous."
Fred glanced at him, then looked back at Dylan, "That's true, but do you know what exactly will be tested this time? Is it simply avoiding the Dragon, or is there a specific task to complete?"
"I'm not entirely sure," Dylan shook his head, picked up his spoon, and took a mouthful of cereal. "But Cedric told me yesterday that he observed the Dragons used for this competition seem to be much larger than ordinary Dragons, and they're particularly ill-tempered, hissing at the slightest approach."
He paused, then added, "According to his judgment, these Dragons are most likely female—female Dragons are especially ferocious during their nesting period, and their bodies will be sturdier than usual."
"If that's the case, then the specific test content isn't hard to guess. It's very likely to involve taking something from the Dragon's side, like a Dragon egg, as this best tests one's ability to deal with fierce creatures."
"How does Cedric know so many details about Dragons?" Fred asked curiously. He remembered that although Cedric was skilled in magic, he didn't seem to have specifically studied Dragons.
"I remember his father works in the Ministry of Magic's Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, right?" George frowned.
"Yes, that's the reason," Dylan nodded, confirming. "Cedric said his father recently happened to be in charge of the allocation work related to the Dragons used in this competition, and occasionally mentioned a few things about Dragon habits to him, which is how he was able to make these judgments based on that information."
As soon as he finished speaking, there was a sudden stir from the teachers' table at the front of the Great Hall.
Headmaster Dumbledore stood up, holding a silver whistle, clearly signaling for the champions to gather.
Dylan put down his cutlery, patted his friends' shoulders, and walked towards the teachers' table. Behind him, his roommates' loud cheers of "Go, Go!" could be heard, particularly clear amidst the gradually rising clamor in the Great Hall.
In fact, Dylan had already had a long, in-depth conversation with Cedric.
The two were sitting in the same classroom, discussing their future plans.
Cedric had seriously mentioned that he hoped to join the Ministry of Magic after graduation, aiming to work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, alongside his father, Amos Diggory.
He had grown up listening to his father tell stories about various magical creatures and was full of yearning for this job.
Cedric had always worked hard towards this goal.
Recently, even his romantic relationships weren't as attention-grabbing.
During recent holidays, he would mostly accompany his father on missions, helping to deal with magical creature disturbances.
Sometimes it was assisting in relocating lost beasts, sometimes recording the activity tracks of fantastic beasts, and sometimes even participating in the health checks of magical creatures.
These experiences allowed him to accumulate a large amount of practical knowledge about magical creatures.
Recent studies, in particular, had given him an understanding of Dragon habits, physical characteristics, and even emotional changes that far surpassed his peers.
This was also the key reason he could accurately determine that the Dragons used in the competition were female.
Time returned to the morning of the first task; the atmosphere in the classrooms was particularly relaxed.
Almost all students were distracted by the afternoon's competition.
In Herbology Class, some held tweezers, but their gaze drifted out the window, staring blankly towards the Forbidden Forest, seemingly wanting to peer through the dense trees to catch the moment a Dragon breathed fire.
In Charms Class, the students' Charms-casting voices were noticeably softer than usual, but private discussions rose and fell. Some speculated whether the first task would start that afternoon.
Others pressed their prefects about when they would be notified to gather for the viewing, and even the usually most diligent students unconsciously held their wands suspended in mid-air.
This anxious waiting continued until noon.
As students successively walked into the Great Hall for lunch, they suddenly found the announcement board in the entrance hall surrounded by people.
A brand new piece of parchment was pinned in the center, with viewing instructions written in gold ink.
Almost simultaneously, Headmaster Dumbledore ascended the steps to the teachers' table, holding a Sonorus Charm wand. His gentle but clear voice echoed throughout the Great Hall.
"Students, all classes this afternoon are canceled. Please return to your respective House common rooms after lunch, where your prefects will organize you to proceed to the temporary stands beside the grounds to watch the first task of the Triwizard Tournament."
A cheer instantly erupted in the Great Hall, and the students' excitement could no longer be contained.
After lunch, students from the other schools also quickly left the Great Hall.
Beauxbatons students tidied their robes, while Durmstrang students discussed tactics with each other.
Each face bore a similar look of anticipation; clearly, they had also received the same viewing notice.
As Dylan walked out of the Great Hall, he saw Luna waiting for him at the corridor corner, holding a small pendant woven with silver thread, with a light blue bead strung on it.
"Here, this is for you; it's said to bring good luck."
Luna handed him the pendant, her voice still soft. "Don't worry too much about the outcome this afternoon; just come back safely! Go, Go, Dylan!"
Dylan took the pendant, whispered a thank you, then met up with Cedric, Draco, and Harry, who had arrived, and followed Professor McGonagall towards the grounds.
"Don't be nervous, children."
Professor McGonagall walked at the front, her usually steady voice now carrying a subtle tremor.
She blinked occasionally, glancing around, her fingers tightening slightly on her wand, clearly not as composed as she appeared.
"Headmaster Dumbledore is already waiting at the site, along with Ministry of Magic staff and Professors from each school responsible for safety. If any accident occurs, someone will control the situation immediately; you don't need to be afraid."
She paused, then turned to the four, her eyes full of affirmation: "I have seen all your efforts during this time—the training every morning under the Whomping Willow, the focus of repeatedly practicing the Shield Charm after class. You have put in more sweat than anyone else."
"You are absolutely the most outstanding champions. Trust yourselves; just perform as you usually do."
As Professor McGonagall spoke, she led the four across the snow-dusted grass.
In the distance, beside the grounds, a magnificent circular grandstand appeared before their eyes.
The grandstand was supported by dozens of thick log pillars, each as wide as an adult's embrace, and each pillar was carved with magical runes for reinforcement.
The seats of the grandstand were pieced together from thick oak, with a layer of soft wool cushions on the surface.
Crucial connections were wrapped with wrist-thick hemp ropes, which were also coated with a waterproof and snow-proof magical potion, making the entire grandstand both sturdy and meticulously prepared.
As the distance closed, the details of the temporary grandstand became clearer.
A wide boardwalk extended from the grandstand entrance, made of thick pine planks, with the gaps between the planks filled with fine hemp rope.
This prevented snow accumulation and slipping, allowing students from each school to quickly reach their designated areas.
The grandstand seats were arranged in neat tiers, rising layer by layer from bottom to top. Each layer of seats was half a meter wider than the one below it, ensuring that students sitting in any position could clearly see the arena below without their view being obstructed by those in front.
The log pillars supporting the grandstand were not only thick but also nearly three meters taller than the top of the grandstand. Several crossbeams were mounted on the tops of the pillars, covered with large pieces of dark blue canvas.
The edges of the canvas were secured to the pillars with metal rings, providing shade from dazzling sunlight on sunny days and blocking falling snowflakes on snowy days. The canvas surface was also coated with a waterproof potion, so even in rain or snow, there was no need to worry about water dripping down and wetting the seats.
To the left of the grandstand was the arena for this competition.
An open space enclosed by a magical fence, where the accumulated snow had been cleared, revealing brown soil. In the distance, several metal stakes used to secure the Dragons could be seen.
To the right of the grandstand stood a tall, dark green tent. The tent flaps were secured on both sides with copper buckles, and the Triwizard Tournament emblem was embroidered on the flaps, clearly indicating it was a lounge prepared for the champions.
Upon reaching the tent entrance, Professor McGonagall stopped, not proceeding further.
She raised her hand and pointed to the tent flap, her voice gentle yet carrying a hint of seriousness: "Go in. Someone inside will tell you what you need to do next."
"Remember, stay calm and don't let nervousness affect your judgment."
Dylan, Cedric, Harry, and Draco entered the tent, immediately sensing its spaciousness.
The tent's interior was much larger than it appeared from the outside, clearly having had an Undetectable Extension Charm cast on it.
The Beauxbatons champions had already arrived. Some leaned against the tent walls, others stood by the central round table. Seeing the four enter, they merely nodded slightly in greeting, with no further interaction.
Inside the tent were a dozen soft armchairs with comfortable dark gray wool covers, and several small round tables beside them, on which sat kettles and cups.
However, none of the Beauxbatons champions sat down; instead, they each occupied a corner of the tent, pacing back and forth.
Some occasionally reached up to touch the wands in their pockets, others muttered something softly, all clearly nervous for the upcoming competition.
Draco let out a soft snort at this sight and walked directly to an armchair far from the tent flap, where he sat down.
He crossed his legs, interlaced his fingers in front of him, and kept his back straight, trying to maintain a calm expression, but his slightly tightened lips still betrayed his nervousness.
"Let's sit and wait too; standing around makes it easier to overthink."
Dylan smiled slightly, sat in the armchair next to Draco, and casually picked up the kettle on the table to pour himself a cup of warm water.
Harry and Cedric exchanged glances, then each found a chair and sat down.
Harry pulled out a worn Charms book from his pocket, pretending to flip through it but not turning a single page for a long time.
Cedric took a handkerchief from his backpack, repeatedly folding and unfolding it, trying to distract himself with these small actions.
Not long after, the Durmstrang champions also successively entered the tent.
Their reactions were similar to those of the Beauxbatons champions; they did not choose to sit down but stood in another corner of the tent.
Some stared blankly at the tent ceiling, others gazed outside the flap. A suppressed silence filled the entire tent, broken only by occasional footsteps and breathing sounds.
This silence was only broken by the appearance of Ludo Bagman.
He was wearing a vivid yellow and black robe.
It was the uniform of the Wimbourne Wasps, with the team's emblem printed on the chest, and he wore an exaggerated smile on his face.
As soon as he entered, he waved vigorously at everyone, his voice so booming it nearly lifted the tent roof: "Excellent! So good to see you all here, truly excellent!"
Chapter 345 Three XXXXX-level dangerous creatures!
As he spoke, he walked to the center of the tent and spread his arms in a welcoming gesture: "Everyone, there's no need to be so formal; just make yourselves at home! I specially requested these armchairs because I was afraid you wouldn't be comfortable."
He pressed the armrest of a nearby chair, nodding with satisfaction. "See, the elasticity, the texture—it's exactly like the one in my living room. You won't get tired even if you sit for a long time!"
Harry leaned close to Cedric, lowering his voice to ask, "Cedric, is Mr. Bagman trying to… lighten the mood?"
"Ha, he is indeed trying to adjust the mood, only he's adjusted it into an even more awkward mood."
Draco sneered twice from the side, a hint of mockery in his tone. "But I must 'congratulate' him; at least he successfully turned silence into awkwardness."
Hearing this, Cedric couldn't help but cough a few times, trying hard to keep a straight face and not laugh.
He also found Bagman's actions somewhat comical, but he couldn't show it.
Harry also found it a little funny, but he was afraid that laughing out loud would make the atmosphere even more awkward, so he could only tightly purse his lips, his shoulders trembling slightly from holding back laughter.
Most of the other Champions in the tent showed similar expressions; the originally oppressive atmosphere was instantly replaced by a bittersweet awkwardness.
Ludo Bagman was still chattering around the armchairs when Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons suddenly frowned.
She had been leaning against the tent wall, but now she straightened up, her gaze sharply fixed on Bagman, her tone clearly questioning: "Mr. Bagman, shouldn't you be telling us something important first? For example, when exactly will the first task officially begin? We can't just sit here and wait, can we?"
As soon as Fleur finished speaking, the somewhat relaxed atmosphere in the tent instantly became tense.
The other Champions all looked up, their gazes uniformly fixed on Ludo Bagman; it was clear everyone was concerned about this question, but no one had spoken first.
Ludo Bagman's smile immediately froze. He opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to argue something, but couldn't find the right words at the moment.
Just then, a noisy commotion came from outside the tent.
Footsteps, conversations, and laughter mixed together, growing closer, clearly the students from various schools lining up to go to the stands.
"Soon! It can start soon!" Ludo Bagman, as if grabbing a lifeline, quickly pointed to the tent flap and said, "Listen, the students are almost at the stands. Once the audience is seated, the competition can begin immediately. No need to wait much longer."
As soon as he finished speaking, the tent flap was pushed open from the outside, and Old Barty Crouchwalked in.
He was wearing a crisp dark suit, his hair meticulously combed, and his face was expressionless.
Seeing this, the Champions all stood up from their seats and walked towards him, their eyes unconsciously falling on his right hand.
He was holding a palm-sized purple silk bag, its opening tied with a golden cord, looking very mysterious.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the audience is all seated, and the members of the judging panel are all present. The competition can begin."
Old Barty Crouch's voice was steady and powerful. He handed the purple silk bag in his hand to Ludo Bagman nearby, his gaze sweeping over every Champion present.
Ludo Bagman took the bag and immediately tapped it lightly with his wand. The golden cord wrapped around the opening automatically loosened, revealing several folded pieces of parchment inside.
"The rules for the first task are very simple," Old Barty Crouch continued. "You need to overcome the obstacles of the Dragons in the arena and successfully retrieve the Golden Egg placed in a designated location—the Golden Egg is the objective of this task."
He paused, then delivered news that surprised all the Champions: "Next, you will need to draw lots to determine the two Dragons you will face. Each Champion will need to face the attacks of two Dragons simultaneously."
"Two Dragons?" Almost all the Champions cried out in surprise. Harry's eyes widened instinctively, Cedric frowned, and the composure on Draco's face vanished, replaced by a trace of bewilderment.
Everyone had originally thought they would only need to face one Dragon at most, but they didn't expect the difficulty to double instantly!
"Yes, two Dragons."
Old Barty Crouch repeated it expressionlessly, his tone completely unruffled. "According to our original plan, it was one Champion per Dragon."
"But now the number of Champions has increased to three. To ensure the difficulty and fairness of the task, the number of XXXXX-class dangerous creatures you need to face must naturally also be increased accordingly."
"If that's the case, why not just make it three Dragons? It would be even fairer."
Someone muttered softly, their voice not loud, but just enough for those around to hear.
He probably felt that since they were already facing two, one more wouldn't make much difference.
"It's good to have that kind of courage to face a challenge."
Old Barty Crouch had clearly heard his muttering. He turned his gaze to the speaker, his tone still calm. "However, you're right. In this task, there is indeed a third XXXXX-class dangerous creature, not just Dragons."
This sentence exploded like a bomb among the Champions.
Everyone suddenly turned their heads, staring at the guy who was still gaping, their eyes full of exasperation.
Why did he have to open his mouth and suggest three Dragons?
Now, they really had to face a third dangerous creature.
The man himself was stunned, clearly not expecting his casual remark to lead to such a result, and his cheeks instantly flushed red.
"Do you remember the notification letter you received earlier?" Old Barty Crouch ignored everyone's reactions and continued, "The letter only contained half a riddle, and the other half of the riddle corresponds to this third XXXXX-class dangerous creature. Its threat is no less than that of the Dragons."
He pointed to the purple silk bag in Ludo Bagman's hand and announced, "Alright, no more unnecessary talk. Let's start the drawing of lots now."
"The drawing order will be by school, starting with Beauxbatons Academy of magic. This order will also be your order of appearance later."
"Champions of Beauxbatons, please come forward and draw your opponents."
Old Barty Crouch pulled out a leather clipboard from his pocket, holding a quill in his hand, and stood solemnly to the side.
Ludo Bagman then held the purple silk bag in front of the Beauxbatons Champions, gently shaking it with the opening facing down, and several palm-sized Dragon models rolled out.
The models were incredibly lifelike, with even the patterns of the scales and the folds of the wings clearly visible, allowing one to distinguish the corresponding Dragon species at a glance.
"Please step forward and draw."
Fleur Delacour and Adèle LeFevre took a deep breath and walked to the bag.
Fleur reached out first, her fingertips touching a model with silver-blue scales. She picked it up and saw it was a Swedish Short-Snout.
Adèle then picked up a model with green scales, which was a Common Welsh Green Dragon.
"Swedish Short-Snout, Common Welsh Green Dragon."
Old Barty Crouch quickly recorded it, his tone unchanged.
Fleur and Adèle exchanged glances, clearly relieved.
These two types of Dragons were somewhat gentler in their aggressiveness compared to the Norwegian Ridgeback and the Hebridean Black, meaning there would be less pressure when facing them.
They returned the models to the bag, and the tense expressions on their faces also eased a little.
"Champions of Durmstrang Institute, please."
Barty's gaze turned to Viktor Krum and Franz Schmidt.
Krum's expression was as gloomy as ever. He walked forward expressionlessly and picked up a model with spikes on its back, which was a Norwegian Ridgeback.
Franz hesitated for a few seconds, then reached out and picked up a model with black-green scales, which was a Hebridean Black.
"Norwegian Ridgeback, Hebridean Black."
Barty finished recording. Franz tightly pursed his lips, looking on the verge of tears.
He had seen descriptions of these two Dragons in books before, and just imagining them attacking simultaneously made his scalp tingle.
Krum patted him on the shoulder, not speaking, but conveying a signal of "calm down" with his eyes.
"Next, Hogwarts School of magic."
Barty's voice finally turned to Dylan and his group.
Harry and Draco stepped forward. Harry reached out and picked up a model with black-green scales, which was a Hebridean Black.
Draco then picked up a model with green scales, which was a Common Welsh Green Dragon.
"Hebridean Black, Common Welsh Green Dragon."
Barty quickly recorded it, then looked at Dylan. "Mr. Hokewood, it's your turn next."
Dylan walked to the bag and, without hesitation, picked up two models.
One was a Hungarian Horntail with black scales and wide wings, and the other was a Norwegian Ridgeback with spikes on its back.
When Old Barty Crouch saw these two models, his previously tight brows instantly furrowed together. The quill in his hand paused before he wrote on the clipboard: "Hungarian Horntail, Norwegian Ridgeback."
The surrounding Champions heard this combination and instinctively looked at Dylan.
This was undoubtedly the most difficult of all combinations; the two most dangerous Dragons appearing simultaneously meant that a slight misstep could lead to a desperate situation.
"Next, please wait patiently. A Ministry of Magic official will come to call you to the arena, in the order of the draw."
Old Barty Crouch put away his clipboard and reiterated the rules in a serious tone. "Additionally, I need to remind everyone that for different types of Dragons, the judging panel will have different scoring criteria. Scoring will comprehensively consider your strategies, spell accuracy, risk avoidance ability, and other aspects."
"One more point must be reiterated—the only items you can bring into the arena are your wands. No alchemical tools, Potions, or other auxiliary tools are allowed. Please remember this."
After Old Barty Crouch finished speaking, Ludo Bagman carefully leaned forward and tentatively asked, "Barty, shouldn't we be heading to the judges' stand now? The audience must be getting impatient."
Old Barty Crouch nodded, without any extra words.
Ludo Bagman immediately smiled and waved at the Champions: "We're heading to the judges' stand now. We look forward to your wonderful performances! Good luck!"
He pushed aside the tent flap, and a roar of bustling voices instantly flooded into the tent.
The students in the stands were clearly impatient, their cheers and shouts mixing together, like a surging tide, instantly diluting the oppressive atmosphere in the tent, but also making the Champions' hearts beat a little faster.
After Ludo Bagman left the tent, the flap slowly fell, and the bustling voices that had just flooded in were instantly cut off, leaving the tent in an unspeakable silence.
The air seemed to grow heavy, with only the occasional sound of snow sliding off the top of the tent breaking the silence.
Around Fleur of Beauxbatons, several people were talking in low voices with their heads down. Krumand his group from Durmstrang also stood together, their fingers still gesturing in the air, clearly simulating movements to face the Dragons.
The content of their discussion was not difficult to guess; it was simply about how to divide the work to break through the combined interception of the two Dragons, and how to reserve enough magic and energy to deal with the third mysterious creature mentioned in the riddle, when and how it would appear.
The four from Hogwarts also gathered together again. Harry was the first to approach Dylan, lowering his voice and saying, "The Hungarian Horntail and the Norwegian Ridgeback, both of these Dragons are difficult to deal with."
"Their adult individuals can reach fifty feet in size, with a wingspan exceeding sixty feet. Dealing with their attacks simultaneously leaves too little room for error."
Draco 'tsk'ed' from the side, unwilling to give up, his fingers unconsciously tapping the armrest of the armchair: "It's a shame, our draw result was too ordinary."
"If we could have drawn these two Dragons, at least we could have helped you share some of the pressure."
"Yes," Cedric also nodded, with a hint of regret in his tone, "Although the Hebridean Black and the Common Welsh Green Dragon are also threatening, they are still easier to deal with compared to the Hungarian Horntail and the Norwegian Ridgeback."
"If we could have encountered those two most difficult ones, perhaps we could have helped you exhaust some of their stamina."
Harry also nodded in agreement, his eyes full of affirmation.
The thoughts of the three at this moment were actually very simple.
Since Dylan drew the most difficult combination, if they could encounter these two Dragons in advance, they could exhaust more of the Dragons' energy during their own matches.
Even if it only made the Dragons breathe fire a few more times or flap their wings a few more times, by the time Dylan entered the arena, the Dragons' condition would have declined, making them a bit easier to deal with.
What a pity.
Dylan looked at the serious expressions of the three and couldn't help but smile slightly. He naturally understood the intentions of Harry, Draco, and Cedric.
He gently shook his head and said in a relaxed tone, "It's okay, you don't need to worry about me. Don't forget, I'm the last one to go, maybe I even got a big advantage."
He paused, then deliberately added in a teasing tone, "With so many of you going up one after another, each group will exhaust a lot of the Dragons' stamina. By the time I go up, maybe those two Dragons will have been so worn out that they're not as aggressive, and it will naturally be much easier for me to deal with them. This can also be considered a kind of luck."
Harry, Draco, and Cedric instinctively pursed their lips when they heard this.
They knew very well that Dylan was just comforting them.
As top dangerous creatures in the magic world, Dragons' stamina recovery speed far exceeds that of ordinary creatures. Unless the previous matches caused substantial damage to them, a brief Consumption would not have much effect.
The three exchanged glances, all seeing the same thought in each other's eyes.
They couldn't just leave it at that; they had to think of other ways.
Even if it was just preparing some key spells to deal with these two Dragons in advance, or sharing some evasion techniques they had summarized, they wanted to help Dylan share a bit more pressure.
The discussion inside the tent continued, but compared to the initial tension, there was now more of a tacit understanding of teamwork.
Everyone was making their final preparations for the upcoming challenge, and the silent support among the four from Hogwarts became a warm highlight in the oppressive atmosphere.
While the champions in the tent were still in tense discussion, the referee's stand had already begun its final preparations.
Old Barty Crouch walked quickly to the center of the referee's table, holding a stack of neatly bound parchment, and distributed them one by one to the Headmasters and members of the referee panel.
"These are the detailed information of the Dragons that each champion will face, including their species, physical characteristics, and known attack habits, all clearly marked on them."
His voice was steady, every word clearly reaching the ears of those present.
The Headmasters took the parchment one after another and lowered their heads to read them.
Headmaster Dumbledore's fingers gently brushed the paper, a gentle smile still on his lips, but his eyes held a hint of solemnity.
Professor Karkaroff of Durmstrang frowned instantly when he saw a certain line of content, his fingers unconsciously tapping the table.
Madam Maxime of Beauxbatons sighed softly, clearly worried about the matchups of certain champions.
It was truly a case of "some happy, some sad," with each Headmaster holding their breath for the champions of their school.
"Thank you."
Dumbledore took the parchment, quickly scanned it, and placed it on the corner of the table.
He held his wand in his right hand, gently raised it, and pointed towards the arena below.
As the wand waved, an invisible wave of magic instantly spread through the air, like a transparent film, rapidly covering the entire arena area.
This was to prevent the Dragon's attacks from affecting the audience in the stands during the match, and also to clearly transmit the sounds and images from within the arena.
The task of commentary naturally fell to Ludo Bagman.
He quickly walked to the edge of the referee's table, raised his wand to his neck, and clearly chanted the spell: "Sonorus!"
Then, he took a deep breath, and his voice, amplified by the spell, spread throughout the circular stands.
Even with the clamor in the stands, his voice was still clear and powerful: "Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome everyone to the first task of the Triwizard Tournament! I am your commentator, Ludo Bagman!"
A burst of enthusiastic cheers erupted in the stands, whistles and applause mixed together, and the atmosphere was instantly ignited.
When the cheering subsided, Ludo continued, "Now, please allow me to introduce the core content of this test—each champion needs to successfully retrieve the Golden Egg placed in the center of the arena, under the protection of XXXXX-level dangerous creatures! Only by obtaining the Golden Egg can this test be considered complete!"
"They?"
"Did he just say 'they'?"
"Could there be more than one dangerous creature?"
The students in the stands immediately caught the keyword and whispered to each other, their confused voices rising and falling.
Everyone had previously thought there would only be Dragons, but Ludo Bagman used the plural 'they'.
This undoubtedly meant that the challenge was more difficult than expected!
Ludo had clearly anticipated everyone's reaction. He smiled and said, "I think everyone must be very curious now who 'they' refers to. Don't worry, the answer will be revealed soon!"
As soon as he finished speaking, a heavy sound of footsteps came from the entrance of the arena.
A dozen Wizards in Ministry of Magic uniforms, wands in hand, carefully guided two Dragons into the arena.
On the left was a Norwegian Ridgeback, its dorsal spines gleaming coldly in the sunlight.
On the right was a Hebridean Black, its black scales shimmering with a dull luster, and a low roar occasionally emanating from its throat.
With every step the Dragons took, the ground trembled slightly, making the students in the stands both excited and nervous.
And at another entrance to the arena, about ten Wizards were escorting a huge iron cage, slowly moving towards the center of the arena.
The iron cage was made of steel bars as thick as a wrist, with complex protective runes carved on its surface, and something inside the cage seemed to be gently swaying.
Because the Dragons were so enormous, attracting almost everyone's attention, only a few careful people noticed the existence of this iron cage.
Luna and her roommates sat in the designated Ravenclaw viewing area.
Seeing the two Dragons enter, Amy Carmichael couldn't help but grab Luna's hand and gently shake it, her voice full of surprise: "Oh my goodness! They actually brought out two Dragons! Didn't they say one champion per Dragon before? This difficulty is too high!"
As she shook Luna, Amy noticed that Luna's gaze was not on the Dragons, but on the iron cage on the other side of the arena.
She followed Luna's gaze and also discovered the overlooked cage, asking curiously, "Luna, what are you looking at? What's in that iron cage? It looks so mysterious."
Luna narrowed her eyes slightly and said calmly, "I think that should be a magical creature unique to North America—a Manticore. I saw an introduction about it in a supplementary reading for 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them' before."
"Manticore?" Amy Carmichael repeated the name softly, her face full of confusion, "It doesn't sound that dangerous, it should be easier to deal with than a Dragon, right?"
"On the contrary, it is also an XXXXX-level dangerous creature."
Luna shook her head and patiently explained, "The Manticore's specialty is hypnosis and Legilimency, which can subtly interfere with a person's consciousness, and its speed is extremely fast, making its attack trajectory harder to predict than a Dragon's. I think the difficulty of dealing with it will be no less than dealing with a Dragon."
"Then what do we do?" Amy Carmichael's face instantly became worried. She instinctively looked towards the entrance of the arena, as if she could see Dylan, who was still in the tent, "Dylan alone has to deal with two Dragons and a Manticore, this is too unfair, and the pressure is too great..."
Upon hearing this, Luna chuckled softly, her eyes full of certainty: "Don't worry, I believe in him. He never disappoints people, and this time will be no different."
As she spoke, she gently patted Amy Carmichael's hand, trying to get her to relax.
The Gryffindors also gasped, unable to believe it.
At this moment, at the edge of the arena, the Wizards responsible for controlling the Dragons, seeing that the Dragons had settled in the designated area, slowly retreated and left the arena in an orderly fashion along the entrance passage.
They remained vigilant until they had completely exited the arena, only then putting away their wands.
This scene was captured by Ludo Bagman, who immediately raised his wand and loudly announced with a Sonorus Charm: "Attention, ladies and gentlemen! The champion from Beauxbatons is about to enter!"
As if to echo Ludo's introduction, the two Dragons in the arena suddenly opened their mouths simultaneously, revealing their sharp fangs inside, and let out a deafening roar.
The sound waves echoed within the arena, and even students in the distant stands could feel the vibration in the air.
After roaring, they slowly turned their heads, their gazes sweeping across the center of the arena. Only after confirming that the Golden Egg lay on the stone platform behind them did they slightly curb their restlessness.
However, sparks continued to emanate from their nostrils, and their golden pupils stared intently at the entrance, clearly wary of the impending "egg thief."
"Oh! These two noisy big fellows certainly know their mission!" Ludo Bagman chuckled teasingly, then lowered his head to look at the parchment in his hand, his tone becoming serious.
Chapter 346: Fire dragons are far superior to humans, so how could Dylan be okay?
The three champions from Beauxbatons entered the arena, wands in hand.
Their tactical approach was very steady.
The champion named Claudia Laroche took the lead.
She waved her wand at the storage area near the arena entrance.
A pale golden Summoning Charm arced through the air.
A silver-grey comet 260 immediately responded, whistling into her hand.
She swung onto the broom, gently pushed off the ground with her feet, and flew towards the Common Welsh Green Dragon.
She clearly intended to use flight to attract the Dragon's attention.
"Oh! Using a broom to distract the Dragon! That's a novel idea!" Ludo Bagman's voice carried a hint of curiosity, his Sonorus Charm broadcasting his tone across the stands. "Looking at the model of that broom, isn't it a comet 260? Light and flexible, very suitable for close-range maneuvering."
"I wonder if this idea was inspired by previous Quidditch matches? After all, when dealing with large creatures at high altitudes, the most familiar tool for Wizards is the broom!"
Meanwhile.
Another champion, Adèle Lefèvre, stood at the edge of the arena, holding her wand with both hands and slowly drawing a circular path in front of her.
As the incantation sounded, various materials began to appear on the ground.
Transparent water elemental crystals were neatly arranged in a semicircle, dried evening primrose was spread between the crystals, and fine silver-white tin powder was sprinkled to form delicate patterns.
A small bottle of blue-glowing spring water was carefully poured into the center of the material array.
Each time she added something.
She would lower her head to check its position, her expression as focused as if she were completing a precise handicraft.
And Fleur Delacour walked alone towards the Swedish Short-Snout.
A faint purple glow constantly lingered at the tip of her wand, and as she moved slowly, she would occasionally point at the air above the Dragon's head.
Each time she pointed, the Swedish Short-Snout's attention would be drawn, and it would slowly follow her steps towards the other side of the arena, gradually moving away from the Common Welsh Green Dragon's activity range. She clearly intended to completely separate the two Dragons to prevent them from forming a combined attack.
Inside the tent, Harry watched Adelle's continuous summoning of materials, his brow slightly furrowed, his voice full of doubt: "What exactly is Adelle doing by summoning these things? Water elemental crystals, tin powder, evening primrose... these don't look like materials used in regular defensive or offensive magic, do they? They can't be used to cast a Shield Charm, nor can they directly attack the Dragon."
"Haven't you figured it out? These are all basic materials commonly used in Alchemy." Draco's gaze fell on the neatly arranged materials, his fingers lightly tapping the tent wall beside him. "Water elemental crystals are used to gather water-attribute magic, tin powder is a medium for stabilizing energy, and evening primrose can enhance the duration of spells — they might be preparing some kind of Alchemy-related array."
"It could also be ritual magic," Cedric added from the side, his tone more certain than Draco's. "I once had a Beauxbatons pen pal who told me that from third year onwards, their school has two compulsory courses: 'Basic Alchemy' and 'Introduction to Ritual magic,' and these two courses are often taught together."
"The materials Adelle is arranging now look like she's building the framework for a ritual magic array — after all, for Beauxbatons, which excels in Alchemy, ritual magic is their most familiar auxiliary method."
"In that case, The Daily Prophet's previous report really wasn't wrong!" Harry suddenly realized, remembering that Rita's report had mentioned Beauxbatons might use Alchemy tools, and now it seemed to be true. "I just don't know what effect this ritual magic array will have once it's set up... It can't be to directly attack the Dragon, can it?"
"Based on the materials, it should be an array related to the Water-Making Spell," Dylan explained calmly, his gaze fixed on the water elemental crystals. "Water elemental crystals can maximize the gathering of water-attribute magic in the air, and evening primrose and tin powder can enhance the effect of the Water-Making Spell several times over — not just increasing the amount of water, but also boosting the spray range and duration."
"Dragons breathe fire, so they're using water to block the Dragon's breath?" Harry followed this line of thought and quickly understood the logic. "So, they want to use a reinforced Water-Making Spell to directly suppress the Dragon's fire-breathing ability? That's a direct and very stable approach."
Dylan nodded and added, "That should be it. The normal Water-Making Spell produces too little water to effectively counter a Dragon's breath, but with the support of a ritual magic array, the Water-Making Spell can create a 'water curtain' effect. This can block the flames and also create a slippery layer of water on the Dragon, reducing its movement speed — it's an integrated offense and defense strategy."
Beauxbatons' approach to dealing with the Dragons seemed somewhat uneventful.
The Common Welsh Green Dragon was already a docile species of Dragon, and Clotilde circled ten meters above its head on her broom. As long as she didn't approach the nesting area in front of it, it would only occasionally lift its head, spitting a few tiny sparks, not even bothering to swing its tail much.
Although the Swedish Short-Snout was more irritable than the Green Dragon and its breath was hotter, Fleur handled it with great patience.
A faint purple glow always shone at the tip of her wand, and each flick would slow the Swedish Short-Snout's movements by half a beat, as if an invisible Slowing Charm had been cast on it.
Before long, everyone could see that the Swedish Short-Snout's reactions were becoming increasingly sluggish; its once swift head-shaking now took one or two seconds longer to complete, and even the intervals between its breaths grew longer.
To prevent the atmosphere in the stands from cooling down, Ludo Bagman simply changed his commentary on the fly and began telling anecdotes: "Ladies and gentlemen, since the pace is a bit slower now, let me tell you a little anecdote. Last year, when I visited an Alchemy workshop, I saw an apprentice boiling Dragon blood in an Alchemist's cauldron. He didn't control the temperature well, and the whole cauldron exploded, blackening the workshop ceiling! Now, seeing Adelle's precise operation, I realize that true Alchemy masters are so meticulous even when arranging materials!"
Someone looked at the two docile Dragons in the arena and sighed with a complex tone: "Beauxbatons' luck is really good... The Common Welsh Green Dragon and the Swedish Short-Snout are the two least fierce among all the participating Dragons."
"If it were the Hungarian Horntail we have to face, even if we set up a ritual array, we probably wouldn't have that much time to cast it."
Maria Weilman of Durmstrang frowned and nodded.
Franz Schmidt also chimed in, with clear envy on his face.
The Norwegian Ridgeback and Hebridean Black they drew were much more irritable than these two Dragons.
Viktor Krum, sitting nearby, clearly heard the reluctance in their voices. He looked up, his gaze sweeping over everyone, and said calmly: "In a competition, luck itself is part of skill. Meeting an opponent suited to one's tactics is not accidental — the key is whether one can seize such an opportunity and convert the advantage into a result."
"Isn't Beauxbatons' current setup exactly about making good use of this 'luck'?"
His words instantly silenced the discussion in the tent, and everyone looked back into the arena.
By then, Adelle's ritual array was largely complete, the water elemental crystals glowing blue in the sunlight, and Clotilde was still on her broom distracting the Green Dragon.
Fleur slowly guided the Swedish Short-Snout to the other side of the array, a steady challenge progressing in an orderly fashion.
"The Swedish Short-Snout... fell asleep?" Harry's eyes widened as he watched the Dragon in the arena slowly close its eyes, a little drool even escaping its mouth, and emitting soft snores. His voice was full of confusion, "This is too easy, isn't it? Can Beauxbatons actually make a Dragon fall asleep directly?"
"I also think something's not right," Cedric frowned, his gaze fixed on the unconscious Dragon. "Dragons have strong magic resistance, especially adult Dragons. To put a Dragon of that size into deep sleep, magic alone isn't enough; it usually requires a specialized sleeping Potion to be effective. But I didn't see Fleur use any Potion just now."
"Have you forgotten her bloodline?" Draco suddenly spoke, reminding them. "During the wand inspection ceremony, she herself admitted it — her grandmother was a Veela, which means she has one-quarter Veela blood. You've probably all seen Veela at the Quidditch World Cup, haven't you? Their songs and appearance can affect people's mental state."
He paused, then explained further: "Wizards with Veela blood naturally have an advantage over ordinary Wizards when casting mental magic. Their magic can interfere with the target's consciousness more precisely. Perhaps Fleur used this, combined with hypnotic magic, to make the Swedish Short-Snout fall asleep in a short time — which is also why no one saw her use a Potion."
Harry and Cedric exchanged glances, then suddenly understood.
Recalling when Fleur waved her wand just now, a faint, bell-like sound seemed to have permeated the air.
They hadn't paid attention at the time, but now that they thought about it, that must have been the special effect of mental magic enhanced by Veela blood.
Although Beauxbatons' tactics seemed conservative from the start.
The entire process also lacked thrilling confrontations, but the effect was unexpectedly good.
As Adèle Lefèvre's ritual magic array was completely finished, she immediately took over Claudia Laroche's task.
She waved her wand, and immediately, thick water columns, the size of bowls, surged from the magicarray. The water columns converged into a water curtain in the air, continuously spraying towards the Common Welsh Green Dragon.
Although these water columns were not enough to harm the Dragon, they successfully interfered with its vision and movements, preventing it from focusing on finding its target.
Claudia Laroche then took the opportunity to mount her broom, flying a wide circle around the edge of the arena, cleverly avoiding the Common Welsh Green Dragon's gaze, and quickly sweeping past the already unconscious Swedish Short-Snout.
Her goal was clear: the golden egg in the center of the arena.
However, the process of acquiring the golden egg was not without obstacles.
Just as Clotilde approached the golden egg, the Manticore, which had been hidden in the iron cage, suddenly broke free and pounced towards her.
Fortunately, Fleur Delacour was prepared. She immediately rushed in front of Clotilde, waving her wand to cast a Shield Charm.
A transparent barrier instantly formed, blocking the Manticore's first attack.
Subsequently, she cast several more distracting spells, continuously hindering the Manticore's movements, buying time for Clotilde.
The Manticore quickly realized that Fleur was the biggest obstacle. It suddenly changed direction and launched a fierce attack on Fleur.
Its sharp claws tore through Fleur's protective barrier, leaving a deep, bone-visible claw mark on her arm.
But Fleur did not retreat, still gritting her teeth and persevering until she saw Clotilde successfully pick up the golden egg, only then slowly retreating with her injured body.
After the task was completed, the three of them were in different states.
Claudia Laroche had almost no injuries, only the tail of her broom had a few branches charred by Dragon's breath, clearly having been accidentally caught by the flames while circling.
Adèle Lefèvre, not being adept at flying, had a red and swollen burn on her calf from the flames while dodging the Common Welsh Green Dragon's Dragon's breath, and she clearly limped when she walked.
Fleur Delacour, however, had sacrificed the most; the hem of her robes was burnt and tattered, and there were several burn wounds on her exposed skin, with the claw mark on her arm still seeping fresh blood, looking particularly shocking.
They watched the three Beauxbatons champions leave the arena accompanied by medical staff.
Ludo Bagman held his wand, cleared his throat, and tried to speak in an impassioned tone: "The Beauxbatons champions have completed this challenge in a rather... rather methodical manner! Although the process didn't have many thrilling moments, it's undeniable that their tactical planning and execution were excellent!"
He paused, then raised his voice to announce: "Regardless! Let us give a warm round of applause to congratulate the Beauxbatons champions for successfully completing the first task! Next, I invite the members of the judging panel to give their scores!"
A round of applause erupted in the stands.
At this moment, the Durmstrang champions left the tent.
Now there was no one left.
Harry was the first to break the silence, his gaze falling on the arena outside the tent, his voice tinged with obvious hesitation: "The Hungarian Horntail... that thing is really hard to deal with, isn't it — it's huge, and its Dragon's breath reaches so far."
Cedric and Draco both nodded in agreement.
That Dragon was fifty feet long, and its Dragon's breath could create a fifty-foot column of fire in the air, covering almost half the arena.
What worried them even more was that.
Dylan wasn't just facing this one, but also the Norwegian Ridgeback, which was of comparable size.
Although that Dragon's breath range was slightly shorter, its temper was much more volatile. If both Dragons attacked simultaneously, just imagining the oppressive feeling of being surrounded by flames made one feel breathless.
"It's indeed not easy to deal with, but it's still manageable," Dylan said calmly, noticing their worries.
But Cedric, Draco, and Harry all pursed their lips, knowing full well that Dylan was just trying to reassure them.
Dragons recover their stamina much faster than humans; how could it still be manageable?