In this magical world, there exists a potion known as the Water of Life and Death. For those unfamiliar with it, the name might suggest it's a poison.
In fact, the Water of Life and Death is a powerful sleeping draught. Just how powerful is it? Well, the name alone should give you a clue.
It allows one to sleep soundly, bringing complete mental rest—so much so that it can bring a person to the threshold of life and death.
It can be used like a regular sedative or prescribed to wizards suffering from mental disorders. It has an excellent calming effect on the psyche.
In this regard, wizards are far ahead of many psychiatrists. While Muggle doctors work tirelessly to identify causes and chart the pathological formation of mental illnesses, the Water of Life and Death simply erases the chaos of the mind—allowing for a complete reset.
A person's worldview, values, and sense of purpose can all be reshaped. If they relapse afterward, then the issue lies with the individual, not the treatment.
It's like formatting a computer. If it still gets a virus after being fully reset and rebooted, then clearly the problem isn't the machine but the person operating it.
Harry Potter experienced a near-death encounter due to lack of oxygen. The effects were similar to those of the Water of Life and Death—only it was as if he had overdosed.
Adding to the confusion, the Voldemort soul fragment within him didn't want him to die, while the love of his parents resisted the influence of that fragment.
This resulted in Harry appearing to be in a state akin to schizophrenia.
Fortunately, Harry just came out of it appearing a bit more mature.
Meanwhile, Sirius Black had been grounded by Regulus Black. He was confined to the old Black manor, unable to go anywhere, with all his daily needs handled by Shining—just so he wouldn't sneak back into Hogwarts to stir up more trouble.
Regulus hadn't taken away his right to write letters or read newspapers, though. So naturally, the ever-impatient godfather soon sent Harry a letter, apologizing for being unable to visit—and using that same letter to hurl a string of insults at Regulus.
Just as Harry finished reading the letter, Regulus appeared. How he spotted the wax seal from such a distance remains a mystery.
"My idiot brother insulted me in his letter again, didn't he?"
Regulus Black sat down directly across from Harry, who felt a little awkward, having just finished reading the very harsh letter. Sirius had not held back in the slightest.
"Mr. Black! My godfather… in his letter… sends his regards!"
Harry answered awkwardly. Sirius had specifically asked Harry to pass on his greetings.
Who knew what kind of relationship those two brothers had? They actually needed a third party—Harry—to act as a messenger.
Suddenly, Harry and the students nearby felt as if they were being stared down by a fire dragon. In an instant, an aura erupted from Regulus Black that rivaled the pressure of a dragon.
"Is that so? Then please include my regards in your reply. And do let him know that your recent mishap was due to a flaw in a device I created. If he hadn't refused the job I arranged for him at the Ministry of Magic, this year's competition gear would've been his responsibility. Sirius must bear secondary responsibility for your accident."
The surrounding students looked as if they'd just swallowed a mouthful of cockroach paste. My god! So there was this kind of backstory to the whole incident? What were they supposed to say now?
But for Assistant Professor Black to openly provoke Sirius like this—was that really okay?
"Excuse me… is it okay if I don't include that part in the letter?"
Harry really didn't want to be stuck in the middle of this, so he timidly asked for permission.
"No. Harry, what are you so worried about? My idiot brother has never once beaten me in a fight."
Regulus Black gave Harry a reassuring look, as if to say, Relax, I've got this.
But Harry wasn't worried about Regulus—he was worried about Sirius.
After the last fire dragon competition, Harry had gone to see his godfather, whose bones had been completely shattered. The sight had been so horrifying that Harry couldn't help but cry.
That was a barehanded brawl between wizards—no weapons involved. The brutality of the scene was unimaginable.
But in the wizarding world, even an injury as severe as a full-body bone fracture could be cured with a single bottle of Skelegro.
Everyone present could already picture the brutal scene of two wizards engaging in a vicious fistfight, ending with one of them lying on the ground in agony.
"Do you still like the music box?"
Casually, he asked the question—after all, these were props he had created himself, so there was no reason he wouldn't understand them.
Was this Regulus Black, the assistant professor, preparing to explain something to Harry Potter?
"I won't reveal any competition details, but I can tell you how to use the competition props more effectively."
Regulus Black drew his wand and pointed it at the cylindrical bronze piece in front of Harry Potter. "Engorgio!"
The bronze piece immediately expanded into a cylinder, about the size of a forearm guard.
He grabbed Harry's left arm, rolled up his sleeve, and fastened the bronze piece onto it. "Reducio!"
With a wave of the wand, a perfectly fitted bracer now covered Harry's arm.
"This bronze cylinder has already been enchanted. You only need to use the 'Engorgio' and 'Reducio' spells to transform it into a bracer. It's also essential equipment for entering the third task. It allows for a full live broadcast of your progress to the audience."
Regulus Black was clearly proud of the magical props he had created.
"This is a finely crafted bronze bracer, and the magical inscriptions on it offer decent protection. However, its main function is to monitor your location and livestream your movements."
Regulus grabbed Harry's left hand again and pointed to the markings on the bracer as he continued explaining.
"A competition maze will soon be planted next to the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts. The maze's layout matches these inscriptions. But this only shows the map of the paths—the traps and mechanisms inside won't appear here. You'll have to discover those yourselves."
Regulus Black's explanation caused a wave of realization among the listeners. So it was just a map! No wonder. If it only involved following a map, it would be far too easy. So of course there were traps and devices waiting for them.
"This bronze bracer has another function—it can detect the location of the Triwizard Cup, because the cup moves!"
At Regulus Black's mischievous grin, everyone felt a chill run through them. This assistant professor was clearly planning trouble.
They all instinctively took a few steps back—everyone except Harry Potter, who stayed where he was, bracing himself. He had one last question.
"Mr. Black! I don't quite understand what you mean. Shouldn't the Triwizard Cup be fixed in one place?"
After speaking, Harry felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, as if he'd broken free from some burden.
As for the answer? Whatever it was didn't seem to matter anymore.
"The cup is indeed placed at the center point. However, if more than one person enters that area—specifically, if at least two people step into the circle where the cup sits—the cup will randomly relocate to one of six other locations. In other words, there are seven potential placement spots in total throughout the maze."
Regulus Black was clearly proud of his design. It was crafted precisely to give the champions a hard time.
"Regulus! What's the point of a setup like that?"
Fleur had arrived with her sister Gabrielle. Upon hearing that Regulus Black was in the hall explaining details of the third task to Harry Potter, she had rushed over. Most of what she'd overheard matched the general predictions made at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.
But the last part? What was going on there?
If the cup would randomly change location whenever two people stepped onto its pedestal, then all previous efforts would be wasted. They'd have to set off again toward the cup's new position, turning the challenge into another race.
There had to be more to it—something that hadn't been explained. If she could figure it out, winning might be much easier.
Fleur Delacour closed her eyes and sank into thought. Regulus Black's mischievous grin was a distraction, something that would cloud her mind. Only by shutting it out could she think clearly.
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