"Cedric! Cedric! CEDRIC!"
Before Cedric had even emerged from the shadows of the champions' tent, thunderous cheers erupted from the stands. Hogwarts students from all four houses though Hufflepuffs dominated and chanted Cedric's name in unison.
Hundreds of black and yellow Hufflepuff scarves waved frantically in the air, while banners bearing encouraging messages and Cedric's name fluttered in the wind. Even students from rival houses were caught up in the moment, shouting support for their fellow Hogwarts student who was about to risk his life for their school's honor.
This was the unmistakable advantage of competing on home ground, surrounded by friends and classmates rather than distant foreign spectators.
At the center of the arena, which had suddenly become as silent as a tomb despite the roaring crowd, Cedric took a deep breath, gripped his wand tightly, and stepped out of the tent.
The afternoon sunlight fell across his face as he stepped out of the tent's shadows, making him squint reflexively as his eyes adjusted to the brilliant light.
He could feel the countless pairs of eyes from the audience staring into him.
In the center of the field, the magical barriers that had earlier contained the Swedish Short-Snout had vanished, leaving nothing between Cedric and nearly two tons of irritated, fire-breathing death machine.
The dragon was clearly agitated by the sudden exposure to open space and the overwhelming attack on its senses by hundreds of screaming humans. Its powerful tail swept back and forth across the ground in obvious agitation, carving deep grooves in the earth, while blue sparks shot occasionally from its wide nostrils.
"Now—let the first challenge BEGIN!" Bagman's magically amplified voice boomed throughout the arena, officially marking the start of what could very well be Cedric's last few minutes of life.
Adrian observed the unfolding drama from his position in the stands with interest, feeling reasonably confident about Cedric's chances.
Indeed, the performance that followed exceeded Adrian's expectations.
Cedric's approach to dealing with the Swedish Short-Snout was quite simple but effective.
First, he transformed a large boulder on the arena floor into a Newfoundland retriever. The massive, friendly-looking dog immediately began barking enthusiastically and leaping around the arena with realistic enthusiasm, as it drew the dragon's attention away from the approaching human.
Next, Cedric summoned an entire flock of chattering, brightly colored birds that filled the air above the dragon with constant motion, noise, and visual distraction. The birds swooped and dived around the Dragon's head in coordinated patterns, their cheerful songs creating a noise that further confused and irritated the already overstimulated beast.
Finally, Cedric casted a flawless Disillusionment Charm upon himself. His body seemed to melt into the background like a chameleon, becoming nearly invisible against the arena's terrain as he began his careful approach toward the golden egg.
It was a truly masterful combination of spells that showcased not just technical skill, but strategic thinking and perfect execution under the most extreme pressure imaginable.
The plan worked beautifully. While the dragon snapped pointlessly at the elusive transfigured dog and tried to scatter the persistent magical birds with frustrated roars, Cedric moved like a ghost across the arena floor. His nearly invisible form walking between obstacles with stealth, steadily closing the distance.
With agonizing care and silence, Cedric successfully retrieved the golden dragon egg from its nest of ordinary eggs, lifting the warm, heavy object with hands that trembled slightly from adrenaline and relief.
Unfortunately, just as victory seemed assured and Cedric began his careful retreat toward safety, the Swedish Short-Snout finally lost interest in the predictable movements of the transfigured retriever. Its nostrils flared wide as it caught an unfamiliar scent on the wind
The dragon's head spun with terrifying speed toward Cedric's location, its golden eyes narrowing as it searched for the source of this smell.
Fortunately, Cedric's reflexes and training served him well in this moment of mortal danger. The instant he saw the dragon's attention shift in his direction, he reacted with split-second timing.
His wand snapped up and forward as he cast the strongest Shield Charm he had ever produced, pouring every ounce of his magical strength into the protective barrier.
The translucent magical shield appeared just as the Swedish Short-Snout opened its massive jaws and unleashed a torrent of dazzling blue flames. The fire struck Cedric's shield with tremendous force, creating a spectacular light show.
The Shield Charm held—barely. The magical barrier absorbed most of the lethal heat and force, but it wasn't quite strong enough to deflect everything.
Cedric's outer robes caught fire and disintegrated almost instantly, leaving him standing in his scorched undershirt, while roughly half of his hair was burned away in a matter of seconds, leaving his scalp with an unfortunately crooked appearance.
Still, he was alive, relatively uninjured, and clutching the golden egg that represented successful completion of his task. It was a small mishap compared to the alternative of being roasted alive.
Therefore, despite his successful egg retrieval and impressive magical display, Cedric's overall score wasn't particularly high due to the dramatic near-miss that had cost him points for both style and safety.
Out of a theoretically perfect fifty points available from the five judges, he received only thirty-eight—a solidly middling score.
Dumbledore, clearly impressed by his student's creativity and courage under fire, awarded him the highest individual score of the round with a generous nine points out of ten.
The other judges were somewhat less enthusiastic, apparently taking points off for the finale and Cedric's failure to maintain complete control over the situation.
After Cedric's challenge concluded to thunderous applause and he was escorted off the field by relieved medical staff for a quick examination of his minor burns, the entire audience gained a sobering new understanding of just how genuinely dangerous this competition truly was.
The reality of watching a fellow student nearly incinerated by dragon fire had a remarkably clarifying effect on everyone's perception of the tournament's stakes. This wasn't a game or a sporting event—it was a potentially lethal trial that could easily result in serious injury or death for any of the participants.
"Can Harry really handle something like this?" Remus asked with obvious worry, his eyes fixed on the scorch marks that still blemished the arena floor where Cedric had made his desperate stand. "That boy just barely survived, and he's said to be one of the most talented students Hogwarts has produced in recent years."
"No problem at all," Adrian replied with calm confidence. "It's just a dragon, after all."
Hearing Adrian's casual dismissal of a creature that had just nearly killed someone, Sirius still in his pink dog form, suddenly looked up with an expression that somehow managed to convey deep disbelief despite his current species.
'Just a dragon? What an incredibly unfamiliar phrase to hear applied to one of the most dangerous magical creatures in existence.'
"Mr. Diggory's performance was absolutely remarkable!" Bagman's magically amplified voice roared across the arena once again, his enthusiasm looking undimmed by the near-catastrophe they had just witnessed.
"A masterful display of tactical thinking and magical skill! Next, let us welcome the elegant champion representing Beauxbatons Academy—the lovely Miss Fleur Delacour! She will face what may be an even greater challenge—a magnificent Chinese Fireball!"
Just as they had done for Cedric's challenge, the heavily protected dragon handlers began the coordinated process of bringing in a new containment cage, this one slightly larger and reinforced with additional magical barriers that glowed with protective enchantments.
However, the Chinese Fireball contained within this new cage was immediately more attention-grabbing than its Swedish cousin had been.
This was a frighteningly robust specimen that overshadowed even the impressive Short-Snout. Its scales gleamed like rubies in the afternoon sunlight, each one the size of a dinner plate and overlapping in perfect natural armor.
Chinese Fireballs had always been synonymous with aggressive ferocity among dragon species.
Yet strangely, the Fireball currently crouched in the cage appeared remarkably docile, even showing what could only be described as casual boredom.
It was lazily yawning with obvious sleepiness, its enormous jaws opening wide enough to swallow a small horse, revealing rows of teeth like daggers. Its pupils were half-closed in apparent contentment, showing absolutely no trace of the legendary ferocity for which its species was renowned.
The crowd murmured in confusion at this unexpected development. Several spectators exchanged puzzled glances, wondering if perhaps this particular dragon was ill or had been over-sedated by the handlers.
In fact, this was the very dragon Adrian had once raised, named Torch.
Charlie had selected it when choosing dragons for this event.
Although Adrian's mutation ability was specifically designed for plants, through his research, he had discovered that it produced certain secondary effects on magical creatures as well. These modifications included but were not limited to small intelligence enhancement, and accelerated growth.
Adrian could only wish good luck to whichever champion had drawn the misfortune of facing Torch. They had no idea what they were truly up against.
After Bagman's enthusiastic announcement echoed across the arena, Fleur soon emerged from the champions' tent and took her position on the arena floor, facing the creature that would determine her fate in this competition.
"This dragon looks... not quite right," she muttered to herself in soft French, her wand hand trembling slightly as she warily observed the unusually calm giant dragon in front of her.
At that moment, Bagman's commentary reached her through the Amplifying Charm with its usual inappropriate cheerfulness, "It seems our magnificent dragon is in a particularly good mood today! How fortunate for our brave champion! Miss Delacour, please begin your performance whenever you feel ready!"
Fleur took a deep breath that did little to calm her racing heart, then tentatively stepped forward several paces, moving closer to the massive creature while maintaining a distance from its potential attack range.
Torch, rather than responding to her approach with the expected territorial aggression, merely swished its enormous tail in what appeared to be a lazy, almost friendly gesture. Even more remarkably, the dragon then actively shifted its massive body to one side, deliberately revealing the golden dragon egg beneath it.
"This..." Fleur stood frozen in complete bewilderment, unable to process what she was seeing.
The audience erupted in lively discussion, their voices creating a buzz of confusion and excitement as thousands of spectators tried to understand what they were seeing.
"Go for it! The dragon's practically inviting you to take the egg!" someone shouted from the stands.
Despite the tempting opportunity and the encouragement from the audience, Fleur didn't act rashly or abandon her prepared strategy.
Instead, she chose to proceed with the method she had rehearsed and perfected during her preparation period.
She steadied herself, planting her feet in the classical dueling stance taught at Beauxbatons, her silver hair began to shimmer with light. Then, she raised her wand in a complex pattern and began chanting something under her breath.
A soft pink glow began emanating from the tip of her wand, starting as a barely visible shimmer before gradually intensifying into a steady, beautiful radiance. The magical energy drifted toward Torch like mist.
Adrian watched this unfolding show from his position in the spectator stands with growing interest.
This was clearly some form of sophisticated magic, probably a hypnotic or sleep-inducing spell of considerable complexity. For someone with Veela blood like Fleur, this type of charm magic was an excellent tactical choice that played directly to her natural magical strengths.
Veela possessed an innate talent for influencing the minds and emotions of other creatures, making them naturally adept at using this particular school of magic with effects far beyond what ordinary wizards could achieve.
When the pink magical glow finally reached Torch and began to settle over the dragon like a blanket, it began to sway gently from side to side as Fleur had expected.
The dragon's eyelids slowly began to droop as the spell took hold, and after several moments of increasingly sluggish movement, Torch finally collapsed onto the ground with a tremendous thud that shook the entire arena floor.
Seeing this apparent success, Fleur finally breathed a slight sigh of relief, though she remained vigilant and ready to react to any unexpected developments.
It seemed her magic was still effective against dragon-class creatures. She had previously tested similar enchantments on the Abraxan horses at her school, and they had reacted exactly as the dragon was now behaving.
After the dragon showed no signs of movement for a full thirty seconds, Fleur carefully began approaching the now-exposed golden egg with cautious steps. Throughout this entire process, she maintained a defensive posture with her wand at the ready, prepared to respond instantly to any sudden developments or signs of awakening.
"Truly amazing magical work!" Bagman's excited voice echoed above the competition field, his commentary as inappropriately enthusiastic as ever. "Miss Delacour's magic appears to be completely effective!!"
However, just as Fleur was only three steps away from claiming her golden egg and completing the challenge successfully, something completely unexpected occurred.
Torch, who had been convincingly "asleep" for several minutes, suddenly opened one eye and focused it directly on the approaching Fleur. The eye was bright with unmistakable intelligence and what could only be described as playful mischief.
Then, with perfect comedic timing, the supposedly unconscious dragon let out a tremendous sneeze.
The explosive blast of hot air from Torch's massive nostrils struck Fleur like a hurricane, instantly knocking her completely off her feet and sending her tumbling back across the arena floor. She hit the ground hard, rolling several times before coming to rest in a humiliating pile, now covered from head to toe in arena dust and looking thoroughly disheveled.
Her perfect appearance was completely ruined—her silver hair was tangled with dirt and debris, her robes were stained and torn, and her face had streaks of grime that made her look like she had been wrestling with a messy magical creature.
She looked up from her prone position in to find Torch tilting its head at her, its eyes containing what seemed distinctly human-like... mischief?
The dragon before her hadn't been affected by her magic at all!
This was clearly just toying with her!
Seeing this, Fleur couldn't help but feel a burst of anger.
"Oh dear! What bad luck!" Bagman's commentary continued. "The dragon appears to be wide awake after all! It looks like Miss Delacour's magic wasn't quite as effective as we initially thought! What creative solution will she devise now?"
Adrian watched this entire performance from the audience stands with amusement.
From his perspective, the clever Torch had probably already guessed what Fleur was trying to do—get the golden egg beneath its feet.
It was likely treating Fleur as some kind of toy to add a small bit of fun to its boring dragon life. It was truly worthy of being a dragon he had raised from young—Torch's intelligence completely exceeded that of its species.
So, the question now became: what was Fleur planning to do next?
Adrian curiously looked toward the somewhat disheveled figure in the arena.
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