"I noticed that during the interviews, you've been avoiding us."
Rita Skeeter, who had been happily conducting interviews, suddenly found herself surrounded by a group of girls.
"Well then! My lovely little darlings, what would you like to tell me?"
Rita Skeeter immediately recognized them—these girls were all members of Regulus Black's harem, or at least part of his entourage.
"We all like Assistant Professor Regulus Black,"
declared one naive-looking girl, clearly a first-year student who had only just enrolled.
"I thought so. That's why I knew I wouldn't get anything useful out of you."
Rita Skeeter was at a bit of a loss with girls this young. If you like someone, just go tell him directly! Why tell me, a reporter for the Daily Prophet? Do you expect me to publish a story about it?
"Aren't you going to write it down? I saw you taking notes during all the other interviews."
Another girl glanced at Rita Skeeter's quick-quotes quill and notepad. It was obvious she hadn't taken any notes during their conversation, and that simply wouldn't do. They had stopped this reporter precisely to proclaim their love for Regulus Black. How could she not report it?
Looking at their youthful faces, Rita's Ravenclaw instincts kicked in.
"First, tell me—whose idea was it to find a reporter and declare your love through an interview?"
Rita asked with a seemingly agreeable expression. Even if she was annoyed, she couldn't show it. She had to keep her emotions in check, or she might not get anything out of them.
"Oh! It was those older girls over there. They encouraged us to express our feelings for Assistant Professor Black. But they worried we wouldn't be accepted if we confessed directly, so they thought this would be a way to publicly show our affection."
One little girl lifted her chin and gestured toward a small group of older girls in a specific direction. Rita Skeeter didn't recognize them. She only knew the core members of Regulus Black's harem. These unknown girls clearly weren't part of it.
So that's what this is! Jealous little witches, using these clueless newcomers to further their own agenda and sully Regulus Black's reputation. Even if he disbands his harem, it's not going to be any of you that he picks!
Regulus Black's reputation had already spread through the great wizarding families. His taste for younger girls and his harem was an open secret. But some things are better left unsaid—speaking of them publicly would only disrupt the current balance.
Rita Skeeter knew she couldn't explain all this to a group of first-years. But she could steer the conversation in a way that would benefit Regulus Black.
"Listen, my little beauties. In life, the first thing you need to learn is how to judge character. Some things people say might sound nice, but they may not be good for you—or for those around you. Other things might sound unpleasant, but could be meant to help you. So as for what they told you, I think you should reflect on it. Do you think publicly declaring your love like this is really good for the person you admire—Assistant Professor Black?"
In truth, halfway through her explanation, some of the girls' expressions had already changed. It seemed none of them were particularly dense—otherwise Regulus Black wouldn't have taken notice of them in the first place.
Once everything was made clear, the first-year girls realized they had been used. A list of names needing revenge was quickly drawn up. The flames of young love now burned fiercely and would scorch anything in their way.
"Open it! Open it! Open it! Open it! Open it! Open it!"
The entire student body cheered, urging the three champions to open the dragon egg. It was one thing that yesterday's task hadn't been completed, but now that today's was fully done, shouldn't the secret of the dragon egg be revealed?
The cheers were deafening, while those in the know quickly left the scene.
Members of Regulus Black's harem happened to see him signaling outside and all rushed out.
Rita Skeeter sensed something was off and also moved to the doorway to peek inside.
"Open it! Open it! Open it! Open it! Open it! Open it!"
The three champions exchanged smiles. After studying how to open it, they simultaneously opened the dragon eggs in their hands.
What does it feel like to hear the cries of merpeople on land? No one could understand how Dumbledore had managed to learn the merfolk language.
Like a storm sweeping into the room, the merfolk trio's chorus knocked everyone in the Great Hall off their feet. Only the three champions holding the dragon eggs, who happened to be at the eye of the storm, received the least impact. Still, even so, visible shockwaves from the sound rippled through the hall, and the resulting harmonics tore apart everything where the waves converged.
The three champions immediately closed the dragon eggs. However, because they closed them in sequence, only Krum—who shut his last—remained standing. The two who closed theirs earlier were knocked down by the sound waves emitted from Krum's egg.
Separated by a single door, the area inside was ravaged by the storm, while outside, only faint screams could be heard.
"Rita! Don't report on this. The difference between opening one egg and three wasn't taken into account in advance."
Regulus Black's words made Rita Skeeter understand that someone would have to take responsibility for what happened—and she certainly didn't want her little man to be the one to bear it.
Thankfully, before the three champions opened the dragon eggs, Regulus Black had already ordered the house-elves to remove the tablecloths, so all the food was preserved. But no one noticed this detail at the time.
Aside from a few people suffering earbleeds, most recovered quickly. It only lasted a few seconds—but what if the three dragon eggs had been left open? Regulus Black had already seen how the air had shattered at the point of sonic convergence.
The harem members also realized what had happened. If Regulus Black hadn't called them out, they too would've been victims of the merfolk trio's chorus. They were lucky to have narrowly escaped.
"Everyone return to your dormitories. Anyone feeling unwell should report to the medical staff for examination."
Dumbledore shook his dizzy head. He understood how merfolk spoke. Their speech was extremely fast and high-pitched, resembling shrieks. Underwater, their speed slowed slightly, but this was the first time Dumbledore had heard them speak on land.
When the Ministry of Magic originally created these dragon eggs, both he and Regulus Black had participated. It seemed now that Regulus had already anticipated something like this—otherwise, he wouldn't have warned the girls he liked to leave the hall.
The challenge of retrieving the dragon egg from under the fire dragon's claws was over—but the egg they obtained turned out to be such a cursed thing. None of the champions expected this. The Delacour sisters were even glad they hadn't attended the celebration that night. Just as Durmstrang left early from Beauxbatons' celebration, Beauxbatons had likewise left early from Durmstrang's event—and had unknowingly dodged disaster.
Fleur Delacour had once opened the dragon egg alone. In just an instant, she felt as if she'd suffered a psychic attack.
She later opened Gabrielle's dragon egg, but couldn't tell the difference between the sounds from the two.
"This is clearly not Dragonese. I've never heard Dragonese myself, but Gabrielle has spoken with a Chinese Fireball. That language comes from the chest cavity, combined with physical contact to convey mental energy."
Having heard the sound twice, Fleur Delacour felt like she was losing her mind. Her temper had flared over the past few days, and she was easily agitated.
"Calm down, Fleur! We examined the dragon egg carefully—there are no visible patterns or markings on the shell, no information to help us. Clearly, the key lies in the sound inside the egg. The question is: what sound is it? If we can just determine what creature it comes from, we'll have our clue."
Madame Maxime was leading the Triwizard Tournament for the first time. This long-discontinued competition featured events that were designed on the fly. Who knew who had come up with them—or what madness they might think of next?
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