Chapter 312: A Vastly Different First Task
November 24th dawned with crystalline clarity, the day of the Triwizard Tournament's first task finally arriving like a long-anticipated storm.
As Hogwarts' champion destined to compete that afternoon, Sean found himself sitting through morning classes with remarkable composure.
Chapter 312: A Vastly Different First Task
November 24th dawned with crystalline clarity, the day of the Triwizard Tournament's first task finally arriving like a long-anticipated storm.
As Hogwarts' champion destined to compete that afternoon, Sean found himself sitting through morning classes with remarkable composure.
While he harboured no particular distaste for academic pursuits, the surreal nature of attending Transfiguration theory while preparing to face fire-breathing dragons struck him as absurdly mundane.
The final morning bell released a tide of barely contained excitement throughout the castle. Hogwarts officially suspended all remaining classes, and the students' months of anticipation exploded into frenetic energy. After hastily consuming lunch, the entire school population streamed toward the competition grounds like pilgrims seeking salvation, hoping to claim the finest viewing positions before the arena gates opened.
Under Snape's protective escort, Sean made his way to the modest canvas pavilion erected outside the competition venue. The structure fluttered in the autumn breeze like a captured bird, its peaked roof offering meagre shelter from the weight of destiny pressing down upon them.
Fleur and Krum already occupied the tent's interior, their greetings cordial but strained. Tension radiated from both champions like heat from forge fires. Clearly, they too had discovered the draconic nature of their challenge and the overwhelming scope of what awaited them.
Sean settled beside Fleur, noting the tremor in her usually steady hands. "Don't let nerves cloud your judgement," he offered quietly. "Trust your abilities, and you'll emerge victorious."
"Sean, I still remember your words at Castelobruxo." Fleur's voice carried grudging admiration mixed with apprehension. "I must admit, regarding this first task at least, your predictions proved devastatingly accurate."
"Perhaps as the tournament progresses, you'll find my other insights equally prescient."
Fleur attempted a smile, though the expression sat awkwardly on her elegant features. For someone blessed with Veela heritage and natural grace, such visible anxiety spoke volumes about the challenges ahead.
"Excellent! Now that our champions have assembled, it's time for the briefing," Ludo Bagman announced with characteristic enthusiasm, his voice cutting through the tent's oppressive atmosphere like sunlight through storm clouds. "Once our audience settles into their seats, you three will draw lots to determine both your performance order and assigned competition venue. Each champion receives precisely one hour to complete their task. When time expires, the match ends immediately, regardless of circumstances. Scoring will reflect both the number of golden eggs in your possession and the quality of your overall performance.
That's correct. Upon entering your designated arena, you must locate and secure as many golden eggs as possible. These treasures are guarded by dragons of various species and temperaments. You may choose to defeat them through combat, deceive them with cunning, or lure them away through strategy. Any method that successfully separates eggs from their guardians counts as an achievement. Above all else, prioritise your personal safety. Glory means nothing if you don't survive to claim it."
Bagman produced three diminutive golden eggs, each no larger than a quail's offering, their surfaces gleaming with inner light. "Come now, each of you select one."
"Ladies first," Sean declared with courteous formality.
Krum, who had been reaching forward, paused mid-motion and withdrew his hand respectfully. Fleur acknowledged Sean's gallantry with a grateful nod before claiming the centre egg. Krum followed suit with the right selection, leaving Sean the remaining option.
"Apply gentle pressure to reveal your assignments."
The fragile shells cracked under minimal force, releasing wisps of purple smoke that coalesced into glowing numerals on each champion's wand hand. The magical tattoos pulsed with ethereal energy, embedding themselves into skin like living brands.
Fleur bore the number 1, Sean received 2, and Krum claimed 3.
Sean examined the violet marking adorning his right hand's back, sensing layers of complex enchantment woven into the simple digit. This wasn't merely organisational convenience but sophisticated protective magic, designed to shield competitors from the tournament's most lethal aspects.
Fleur stared at her marking with visible trepidation, her composure finally beginning to crack under mounting pressure.
"Calm yourself," Sean counselled. "Mr Bagman's explanation reveals that we'll face entirely separate venues. In essence, these numbers represent only our performance sequence. Since our arenas differ completely, each challenge will be unique with no precedent to reference. You're simply competing first among equals."
The reality would prove far more complex than his reassuring words suggested, but since competitors couldn't observe each other's trials, Sean's logic remained sound.
Bagman departed for approximately twenty minutes before his magically amplified voice suddenly boomed across the entire complex, reaching every spectator in the packed stands.
"Honoured guests and students, please direct your attention to the arena! Will contestant number 1, Miss Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, please enter and commence her trial!"
Taking a steadying breath that seemed to draw courage from the very air, Fleur lifted the tent's rear flap to reveal an opening that led into what appeared to be a primordial forest. Ancient trees towered beyond the threshold, their canopy so dense that only scattered beams of sunlight penetrated to the shadowed floor below. Without another word, she stepped through and vanished into the green darkness.
The first match had officially begun.
Through Bagman's enthusiastic commentary, Sean and Krum could follow Fleur's progress despite being confined to their canvas prison. The announcer's voice painted vivid pictures of narrow escapes and clever strategies, with several heart-stopping moments that sent gasps rippling through the distant crowd.
Rather than strain to catch every detail, Sean closed his eyes and settled into meditative calm. The familiar weight of his wand against his palm provided comfort, while mental rehearsals of various scenarios played out behind his closed lids.
Krum maintained his vigil near the tent's edge, analysing Bagman's commentary for tactical insights that might prove useful during his own trial. The Bulgarian champion's intense focus spoke to his competitive nature and professional approach to danger.
An hour felt simultaneously endless and impossibly brief. Time stretched like heated metal while Sean waited, each minute crawling past with agonising deliberation.
Finally, a sharp whistle pierced the afternoon air. Fleur's ordeal had concluded.
She had secured three golden eggs, establishing a baseline score that guaranteed her final tally couldn't fall below three points. Respectable achievement given the circumstances.
The five-member judging panel now rendered their verdicts with ceremonial gravity.
Madame Maxime awarded 9 points, her loyalty to her student evident in the generous score.
Dumbledore provided 7 points, reflecting measured appreciation for solid performance.
Karkaroff contributed a miserly 5 points, earning a withering glare from Maxime that could have melted steel.
Ludo Bagman offered 7 points with characteristic optimism.
Barty Crouch delivered 6 points in his typically understated manner.
Total: 34 points.
Not exceptional by absolute standards, but considering the task's brutal difficulty, certainly respectable.
According to Bagman's detailed narration, Fleur's forest venue had contained six dragons distributed throughout its verdant expanse. She had employed some form of enchanting sleep magic to claim her first prize, then used advanced Transfiguration to create an eagle decoy that lured the second guardian away from its treasure.
When she discovered the third golden egg with time running desperately short, prudence gave way to desperation. Her frontal assault succeeded in securing the prize but resulted in injury that would have proven far more severe without the protective barrier projected by her glowing number. That reckless moment had cost her dearly in the judges' estimation.
Medical personnel whisked Fleur away to Madam Pomfrey's capable care while Ministry workers began the complex process of arena transformation. Dragons were treated, relocated, and replaced while magical construction crews reshaped the competition space entirely.
"Will contestant number 2, Mr Sean Bulstrode of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, please enter!"
Bagman's amplified announcement cut through Sean's final preparations like a blade through silk. He lifted the tent flap and immediately staggered under an assault of sensory overload. Thunderous cheers crashed over him in waves while blazing sunlight struck his face like a physical blow. The air itself seemed to shimmer with superheated intensity.
His designated arena was a vast desert wasteland, complete with rolling dunes of golden sand that stretched toward distant mirages. The temperature differential from the cool tent interior to this furnace of competition made him gasp involuntarily.
Somewhere among those sun-baked sands, dragons waited with their precious cargo, and Sean's hour of trial was about to begin.