The students in the stands blinked, their cheers snuffed out before they even began by Tver's words.
How to survive an encounter with a Dragon?
Leaving aside how unlikely it was they'd ever run into one, if they really did meet a Dragon, with their level of skill… they wouldn't have any chance of surviving in the first place.
"Splendid performance!"
Bagman's voice rang with unmistakable glee and excitement. When Tver drifted lightly over to the judges' table, Bagman even clapped him on the shoulder.
"But I must remind Mr. Fawley of one thing. Even if you're treating this as a performance, you're still a Champion."
"The goal of this task isn't to make the Dragon cry. It's to get the golden egg."
"So… where's your golden egg?"
"Uh…"
Tver looked down at his empty hands, then glanced over at the dragon handlers already beginning to tidy up the arena.
"Do you think if I go back for it now, it'll still count?"
It was rare to see their professor at a loss, and the students immediately burst into laughter, using it to vent their resentment about the homework.
But the awkward moment didn't last. Charlie thoughtfully brought the golden egg over, rescuing Tver from his predicament.
"Ahem. It seems this exceptionally capable Champion failed to complete the objective. In that case, we can only give him a passing mark," Dumbledore said, putting on a show of sincerity.
Karkaroff opened his mouth as if to argue, but in the end he swallowed it.
Judging by the First Task alone, Tver's performance was unquestionably in a class of its own.
Even if Karkaroff insisted on counting Tver's score properly, the others would never agree. It would be no different from handing him the championship outright.
So he could only sigh, watching Madam Maxime raise her wand and send a ribbon of silver into the air.
"Six."
The silver ribbon twisted into a score that meant "passable"—and only just.
The next judges followed suit. Three more sixes came in a row, and only Karkaroff stubbornly threw up a ten.
"Giving him ten points won't change the fact he's still last!" he snapped, forcing an explanation at Dumbledore.
Tver only shrugged, unconcerned, and flicked his gaze toward Cynthia in the stands.
She wore a perfectly practiced smile, but while everyone's attention was caught by Karkaroff, she subtly tapped a finger in Bagman's direction.
Tver's brows lifted in immediate understanding.
He'd already felt something was off about Bagman, which was why he'd had Cynthia look into him at the Ministry.
And now it seemed he'd found the answer. This was the one who'd put Tver's name into the Goblet of Fire.
Bagman noticed where Tver was looking and returned a smile that carried far too much meaning. Then he stood and walked up to Tver.
"Come along, Mr. Fawley. The Champions must return to the tent to receive information about the second task."
"Of course."
Tver smiled back, and the two of them returned to the tent in silence.
The other four Champions were already inside, all wearing relaxed expressions. Fleur's dress had lost a small scorched strip, Cedric's face was smeared with orange ointment, and Harry's robes had been torn open at one seam.
No matter how well they'd done, for people who'd spent the last two days on edge, simply making it through the task was already a relief.
"Well done!" Bagman said brightly the moment he stepped inside. "I'm sure you don't want to hear me prattle, so I'll keep it short."
"The Second Task will begin at nine-thirty in the morning on February twenty-fourth next year. As you've heard, you'll have a long time to prepare."
"But during that time, you have one more assignment."
"See the golden eggs in your hands? There's a crack along the shell. Open the egg, and the clue for the Second Task will appear."
"Your job is to work out that clue before the competition begins next year!"
"Any questions? If not, off you go. I expect your classmates are waiting to celebrate."
"I have one more question," Tver said suddenly. "One I'd like to ask Mr. Ludo Bagman in private."
The other four blinked in surprise. Bagman, however, looked as though he'd been expecting it, and he waved a hand.
"Alright, you lot head back first. I'll have a chat with Professor Fawley."
Harry and Viktor both looked as though they wanted to say something, but Tver and Bagman were already locked onto each other, neither sparing them a glance.
Noticing that, Fleur and Cedric each tugged one of them along, and the four quietly left the tent.
Outside, however, they ran into someone else.
"Are Tver and Ludo Bagman inside?" Cynthia asked with a polite smile.
Thinking of the strange tension in the tent, Viktor quickly nodded.
"Thank you."
The smile faded from Cynthia's face. With a casual flick of her wand, she cast soundproofing and alert charms over the tent, then stepped inside.
"…Who are you, really? And why did you put my name into the Goblet of Fire?"
The moment he sensed Cynthia's presence, Tver dropped all pretense and demanded an answer.
Anyone capable of getting the Goblet of Fire to select him had to be among the top tier of wizards in the magical world. Certainly far stronger than someone like Barty Jr.
He'd waited until Cynthia arrived to ask, both as a precaution and to prevent things from escalating too publicly.
Bagman smiled calmly and spread his hands.
"I have no idea what you mean. I'm Bagman. The genuine Ludo Bagman."
Tver let out a short laugh and tapped his round belly.
"At an event this important, Bagman would never skip wearing that Wasps jersey that represents his former glory."
"And don't you think you've been a little too professional today? You knew every species of Dragon inside out, and you identified the ancient magic Fleur used at a glance."
"If Bagman really had that level of skill, he'd have been Minister for Magic ages ago."
There was more.
In Tver's impression, Bagman had always been the energetic, athletic type of wizard. To put it bluntly, he was a bit of a cheerful fool.
But ever since reappearing at Hogwarts, this Bagman had felt different.
He handled odd situations with effortless composure, and there was a lazy detachment to him.
As if everything unfolding here were nothing more than a show.
"Well, as sharp as ever," Bagman said with an easy shrug.
"I did think about the jersey, but it was hideous. I went with this suit instead. Best thing I could find in his wardrobe."
"As for the commentary… I suppose I got carried away. Nearly forgot I'm meant to be Ludo Bagman right now."
He shook his head with a faint chuckle.
The moment he admitted he was an impostor, Cynthia's grip tightened around her wand and she stepped forward. Tver, however, raised a hand to stop her.
"Tell me something," Tver said calmly. "Did you really have to be this secretive? Why not just tell me directly… Professor?"