"-and Wong takes it! He actually clinches the victory from Osman! What an upset, ladies and gentlemen! But, hold on, what's this?! Coming out of the treeline are not one, but two dragons! The Chinese Fireball and the Hungarian Horntail! How in Merlin's name is our Muggle champion supposed to get out of that?!"
Bagman's voice thundered across the stadium, feeding the crowd's frenzy.
"Meanwhile, over on the other side, the Beauxbaton champion and the remaining two from Hogwarts have run into the third dragon! A... er... sorry, I have no idea what species that is. Can someone get me a name here?"
...
"Wha—?! How?!"
"I knew Wong was dangerous, but not like this."
"What kind of potions did he drink to hit that level of strength?"
"Think we can coax the recipe out of him?"
"What? No chance!"
"Huh? Why not? If a Muggle can reach that level through potions alone, why can't we?"
"Look at Potter. Does he look like he's breaking human limits right now?"
"Well... no, but what does that have to do with—"
"What does that have to do with it? Everything, you nitwit. If Wong hasn't shared the potion, it means something's wrong with it."
"If there was something wrong, why's he out there looking fresh as a daisy? Don't tell me he's just hoarding it."
"Or he's still testing it."
"What do you mean—wait. Are you saying—?"
"That Wong tests them on himself? If the rumors are true, that's exactly what he does. Supposedly he wants to make sure there's no long-term damage before giving it to anyone else."
"That's absolutely mental."
"He's not called the Mad Scientist for nothing."
...
Amidst the energized atmosphere, Hermione could be seen bouncing nervously on her heels.
"Oh no, this isn't good," she said for what felt like the tenth time (at least, according to Arnya, who had begun silently counting). "Ron, are you seeing this? Ron?"
Ron, unusually quiet, was staring at the screen showing the Durmstrang champions, eyes narrowed at the only girl on their team.
"I think I recognize her from somewhere," he muttered.
"Ron! Don't you see that Vince is in trouble?!"
"Relax, Hermione. It's Vince. A dragon or two won't take him down."
He winced the moment Vincent narrowly avoided being roasted alive on-screen, a corner of his robe catching fire.
"STOP TRYING TO TORCH MY BLOODY ARSE!" Vincent's distorted shout echoed across the stands as he sprinted for dear life with both the Horntail and the Fireball barreling after him.
The viewing screens were enchanted with a specialized charm that allowed spectators to hear audio from whichever screen they focused on while muting all others. According to Hermione, it was a heavily modified spell known as Audio Focalis, originally designed for Wizengamot hearings to separate overlapping testimonies.
"Well... maybe he'll have a bit of trouble," Ron conceded. "If anything, I'm more worried about Harry, especially if he's facing...that."
"We'll just have to trust that Nott taught Harry well," Hermione's words earned a snort from Ron.
"Trusting a Slytherin? Now that's something..." Ron muttered before looking back at the screen showing the Durmstrang champions. "Ah, that's right. Nina Fortner...She's a top Wizard Chess player."
...
The sound of something massive crashing through trees tore through the clearing, followed by a plume of dust bursting outward from the impact. Two figures sprinted out of the cloud, with two more shadows chasing close behind.
"Potter, I need some wind."
Harry skidded to a stop beside Nicholas, both boys pivoting with wands raised at their pursuers.
"Wind, heed my call and impede my enemies."
"Fire, let thy wind assist thee."
A powerful gust surged forward, slamming into the two advancing figures just before a torrent of wind-fed fire erupted. A wall of flame roared to life, scorching the undergrowth, charring the trees only slightly despite the sheer size and intensity.
"The Forbidden Forest has a resistance to burning. We don't need to worry about a wildfire," Nicholas said, catching Harry's bewildered stare. His voice was calm, almost bored, despite the situation. "Good work keeping pace with my chant. But we're far from done."
Right on cue, several ashen projectiles tore through the fading flames, only to flatten uselessly against the shield Nicholas cast without so much as a whisper.
Harry didn't hesitate. He leveled his wand toward the source.
"Expelliarmus!"
The spell shot into the embers just as Fleur and Eloise burst through the dying fire, the heat parting around them like water. Eloise reacted instantly, as she scooped up a handful of lingering flame and hurled it into the path of Harry's Disarming Charm, detonating it into a shower of sparks that Fleur strode through effortlessly, wand raised with a small, knowing smirk.
For a moment, Harry's brain hiccupped.
She's beautiful.
He barely registered Fleur's spell as it shot toward him, only regaining clarity when Nicholas slammed a shoulder into him, knocking him aside. The blast whistled past Harry's head by inches.
"Focus, Potter. Now's not the time to ogle women," Nott said dryly, making Harry flush with embarrassment. "Although... with her, I can't entirely blame you."
"What do you mean?" Harry muttered, scrambling upright as both pairs faced off, wands aimed, tension coiled tight.
"That girl, Delecour, she has a passive charm on her. No wandwork required. Something akin to a Veela or Siren," Nicholas replied in that maddeningly calm manner. "Keep your head clear. The smallest crack and you'll be drooling at her feet."
"As obzervant as ever," Fleur purred, flashing a grin. "Zo, gentlemen... will you rezign, or zhall we do it for you?"
Nicholas glanced at Harry. "Well, Potter? Should we?"
"Don't you dare," Harry snapped.
"You heard the man. Looks like we're still going," Nicholas sighed, as though apologizing on Harry's behalf.
"If you inzist," Eloise said, glancing skyward, her eyes tracking something unseen. "Sylvie iz 'aving trouble keeping the dragon down. We need to end thiz quickly, Delacour."
As if summoned by her words, a thunderous roar tore through the trees, followed by violent crashing. Shockwaves rippled through the forest.
'Flamel's engaging the dragon, while these two are blocking us from interfering. It also looks like Bernard is keeping in contact with Flamel somehow, most probably through Legilimency. Seeing that she's still relaying the situation to Fleur vocally should mean that she can only connect with one mind at a time, although that might also be done to mislead us into thinking like so, either way, it's troublesome, especially since I don't know to what extent she can peer in other people's minds,' Nicholas thought, analyzing the current situation, 'No sign of the other Durmstrangs or Wong. Either we take these two down here... or we run.'
Eloise moved first, four rapid spells chained together in a blur. The boys split immediately, darting to opposite sides as the ground exploded where they had stood.
Fleur didn't miss a beat as she adjusted her stance snapping her wand forward.
"Fulgur."
A string of lightning tore forward, flinging out from her wand like a whip as it came crashing down on Nicholas who responded quickly, his wand snapping forward to meet the whip.
"Protego: Parry."
At the moment of impact, a slight flash of light was emitted, blasting the whip to the side and leaving no sign of damage on Nicholas' wand as he pointed it at a stunned Fleur, who's arm had seemingly snapped back from an unseen recoil.
"Stupefy."
"Protego!"
Nicholas clicked his tongue in annoyance as soon as a simmering blue shield blocked his spell, courtesy of Eloise. Fleur took advantage of the sudden breath of air as she aimed her wand at Harry who was in the middle of chanting.
"Wind—no, um—gather—gather and deflect—"
His chant faltered. The magic stuttered.
Fleur didn't miss the opening.
"Confringo."
The spell screamed toward him. Harry dove aside, hitting the dirt just as the blast carved open the earth where his feet had been.
"Potter, keep breathing. Relax," Nicholas said without looking back. "You are too tense. It is throwing off your timing."
"You make it sound easy," Harry muttered, diving behind a tree as a flash of light scorched past.
Nicholas sighed, long-suffering, as he ducked beneath a vine whip snapping toward his head. His wand flicked upward.
"Diffindo."
The conjured vine severed cleanly and recoiled with a hiss.
"Potter," Nicholas called, tone maddeningly even, "what makes a witch or wizard strong?"
Harry blinked. "Are we really doing this? Now?!"
"On your right, Potter."
Instinct prickled. Harry threw himself sideways just as Eloise's next spell tore a chunk from the tree behind him. She pressed forward with three more spells in rapid succession, only to stagger when a red-white beam smashed into her quickly conjured shield from behind, as if she had eyes in the back of her head.
Harry whipped around. Nicholas had not even turned. His wand rested lazily on his shoulder as though he had cast the counterspell by accident, all the while dodging Fleur's own barrage.
"When thinking of strength," Nicholas continued, running up a tree trunk as if gravity did not matter, "everyone looks to Dumbledore. His power? His speed? His knowledge?" He flicked a silent spell down at Fleur. She blocked it and retaliated, her spell animating the tree's branches into a grasping swipe that nearly caught Nicholas as he leapt clear.
"There are many witches and wizards with similar talents. So the question remains: what is strength?"
Harry, sweating and scrambling to stay alive, sincerely wished Nicholas would save philosophy for a time when he was not being shot at.
"The answer is simple." Nicholas swatted aside a conjured projectile and shot down another approaching spell, reducing it to dust. "To survive as a witch or wizard, is to have more than one answer to the situations you face. To be strong is to have the power to act on those answers. To be the strongest," he said as he landed beside Harry in a smooth slide, "is to choose the best answer and make it real."
Harry barely blocked a chest-high shot with a shaky shield charm. His heart hammered as he tried to process Nicholas's meaning.
They ended up side by side again, facing the advancing Beauxbatons pair.
"So, do you have a plan then?" Harry panted.
"No. You will come up with it," Nicholas replied, perfectly calm.
"HUH?!"
"Exactly what I said." Nicholas conjured three waist-high stone bulwarks, slowing the girls' approach. "Find Wong. Come up with something that'll lead us to victory. I'll join you after I deal with these two."
Harry stared at him in utter disbelief. Nicholas continued in the same instructional tone:
"Do not mistake this for a noble sacrifice. It is simply the best move. Bernard can sync with Delacour and read our thoughts through Legilimency. You have had no training to guard your mind."
"So I'm deadweight," Harry said flatly.
"If that is how you want to interpret it, then yes, you're deadweight," Nicholas replied without hesitation.
A thunderous impact struck the stone barricades, Fleur and Eloise testing their strength against them.
Harry exhaled hard. "Fine. I'm going. Crash and burn for all I care."
For an instant, so quick he questioned it, Harry thought he saw a smirk tug at Nicholas' mouth.
"How harsh," Nicholas murmured. "Get going."
Harry didn't need him to tell him twice as he took off, leaving Nicholas to face the crumbling wall, wand raised as he came face to face with the two girls who both caught sight of Harry's back as he disappeared into the forestry.
"Do you really think that boy would be able to come up with something?" Eloise asked, having already gleaned Nicholas' conversation from Harry's mind, just before he left.
Nicholas shrugged. "Who knows, that kid has only just started branching out into his own path. If he fails now at least it could be used as learning material rather than an obligatory."
"And uz?" Fleur raised a brow as she aimed her wand at Nicholas' chest. "How do you plan to deal wiv' thiz?"
"I think I can handle you two ladies just fine—" Nicholas stopped, scratching the part of his cheek that had his zipper, as the two girls stared deadpan at him. "Apologies, that came out wrong."
"Evidently."
...
"I probably would've made a killing if I opened my food stall today," Vincent muttered while hanging upside down from a branch. "Instead I'm spending it trying not to become someone else's lunch. Yay."
A sharp crack sounded behind him. Vincent dropped instantly, and the branch he had been hanging from exploded as a barbed tail smashed through it like a whip.
He kicked off the trunk to avoid a stream of fire slicing past him. He latched onto another branch only to spring away again when a massive set of flaming teeth snapped shut inches from his leg.
Blue light burst from his palms as he hit the ground in a roll. Ice gathered and solidified in the air, forming a large hammer in front of him.
He grabbed it with his free hand and launched himself at the Fireball. The dragon inhaled to blast him again, but Vincent cracked the hammer across its jaw before it got the chance.
"Gwhoo?!"
The hammer splintered, shards of ice flying everywhere. More ice reinforced the weapon as Vincent moved to swing again, but a sudden rise in temperature warned him that the Horntail had closed in behind him.
Vincent reacted instantly. He hooked the hammer's handle around the Fireball's neck and swung himself around, using the dragon's long neck as a shield against the incoming torrent of flames. Ice coated his clothes and skin, forming a temporary shell.
Thankfully, it was enough as the blaze washed over him and the Fireball, with the latter only being only mildly annoyed at the sudden attack by its teammate as it regained its clarity.
As the heat died down the Honrntail made dash, hoping to chomp down on Vincent before he could escape, only to pause, seeing an empty, half melted iced cocoon on the Fireball's neck.
Where did the human go?
...
"Got it," Vincent sighed with relief as he reattached the blue gem to his recovered Arc-Wand. "This should give me some breathing space."
He had escaped in the middle of the flames, constantly regenerating ice around himself as he dropped away. The burns on he had were mild, but a quick use of healing from his wand fixed that with no problem.
"The drain seems less than before," he murmured while examining the wand. "If anything, it felt... right?"
He had tested the gems many times. Wand or gloves, it made no difference. The gems drew power from him first, ignoring other energy sources until he consciously directed them elsewhere.
Even in the silver wand in his hand, with a gold inner layer, a conduit with near-unmatched magical longevity, was a secondary option compared to his own energy.
It was almost parasitic in a way.
"...Guess that theory I had a year ago doesn't seem so farfetched after all," Vincent muttered.
It was an almost outrageous idea born from a stray thought he had. One that could shake the very foundations of the Wizarding world if it worked. Yet Vincent had no plans of putting it into motion, because if he did...
...he may not come out of it in one piece.
"Speaking of which, I still haven't named them after all this time," he mused. "SEED. That works."
He shook his head. He could think about that later. He still had a Tournament to win.
Heavy footsteps pounded behind him. He sighed and started running toward the pillar of fire he had seen earlier, hoping to regroup with his teammates.
"At least the trees make it harder for the dragons to fly," he muttered while vaulting over a fallen trunk. "And judging from the state of this place, they must've run into the third dragon... wonder how that—hold on, is that Harry?"
Vincent stared as his friend appeared in the distance running frantically alongside one Sylvie Flamel.
"-ou fool! Why did you try and save me?!" Vincent could barely make out their words, screaming as they were. "Now we're bothv doomed!"
"Some thanks would be nice! I just saved you from becoming a pancake!"
"I don't see 'ow a 'reakfast 'eal 'as anything to do wiv this!"
"It was about to bellyflop you if I hadn't put up that shield—!!"
"Vich' my golem 'vould 'ave blocked jus' 'vine!"
"You mean that pile of scrap back there?! Look how well that turned out!"
"Harry!" Vincent's voice cut through their squabble, making Harry's face light up as he turned to see his friends smiling face—
—only to pale in sheer horror as he saw the two dragons charging through trees and undergrowth looking absolutely murderous.
"Vhat in ve-?!" Sylvie didn't get a chance to speak before Vincent grasped her crystal, crushing it. "Oh 'ou vittle fu—"
Her form collapsed inward like crumpled paper, and then she was gone, the distortion of a Portkey taking her.
Harry didn't have a second to react before Vincent grabbed him and threw him over his shoulder.
"Where did she learn those words?" Vincent wondered aloud, completely at odds with how dire things were. "Harry, long time no see. Want to catch me up?"
"Me?! What about you—no, never mind, Vince you need to get out of here, now!" Harry's eyes looked downright terrified.
"Working on it," Vincent replied while glancing over his shoulder. The two dragons were still coming. "But I'm guessing they aren't what's scaring you. Is the third dragon really that bad?"
"That thing is not a dragon," Harry said, voice hollow.
"What do you mean—"
A strange roar echoed through the forest. Vincent felt the hairs on his neck rise.
"Why does that sound like—"
"The dragons stopped," Harry whispered.
Vincent slowed. The dragons behind them had indeed halted mid-charge, staring into the sky with something like fear.
Another roar followed. The trees swayed violently as something massive beat its wings overhead.
"It's here," Harry breathed.
A colossal shape crashed into the ground ahead. Dust billowed. Vincent raised an arm to shield his face until the air cleared.
A glimmer of gold appeared through the haze. Then more gold, spreading outward, unfolding...
A golden dragon stepped forward, towering above even the Horntail. Its body was immense, its wingspan enough to wrap the forest canopy. Yet those same wings folded inward, sliding into its back beneath two plates of shell-like skin that sealed seamlessly, leaving no trace they had existed.
But that was not what made Vincent tremble.
The head was shaped differently from any dragon he had seen. Two pincer-like horns curled forward around its mouth, like mandibles. The silhouette resembled...
...a beetle.
"Dretle?"
Vincent's voice cracked.
His creation stood before him, alive, aware, and staring straight at him. The Dretle's gleaming eyes widened in recognition.
They made prolonged, horrified eye contact for a solid thirty seconds.
Even the dragons went quiet, as if politely stepping back from a deeply personal moment.
Then, the Dretle barred mouth, seemed to curl upward, and Vincent knew, that was his cue to leave.
Vincent bolted, Harry slung over his back like a screaming backpack.
The Dretle let out an excited roar and charged after him, the dragons thundering after, not too far behind
"DAMN IT ALL!!!!!"
...
Meanwhile, in a quieter corner of the forest, Krum kept guard while Nina worked. She cycled through materials with ruthless efficiency—transmuting, separating, rejoining—her hands moving faster than her breathing. Sweat dripped from her brow; her voice was hoarse from the nonstop stream of charms and curses she wove into the item. Even so, her focus never wavered.
A small wooden raven fluttered down and perched on Krum's shoulder. It went still, letting him lift it and read the information it carried.
A rare grin cracked his otherwise stony face.
"What are you smiling at?" Nina rasped, snapping him out of it.
"Situation update. Things have become... rather chaotic out there," he said, eyeing the rope she held. "You're finished?"
Nina exhaled and handed him the seemingly ordinary length of rope. "Wrap it around its neck and the dragon should respond to you."
"And the conditions that make it stronger?"
"Simple enough," she said, lifting her hands in a tired shrug. "You must put it on the dragon without using magic. If you manage that, the spells woven into the rope will hit full potency. After that point, you can use magic again—but I can't." She gave a weak laugh. "I'm tapped out. No spells from me for the rest of the day. You're on your own for the remainder of the round."
"That's a steep price," Krum said, slinging the rope over his shoulder.
"It had to be. We're dealing with a dragon," Nina murmured, stifling a yawn. "At least that nimrod Osman managed to tag Wong as bait with that smoke before he so graciously got eliminated."
"From what I've seen, he didn't need to," Krum chuckled. At Nina's confused look, he added, "You can watch the recording later. The... aggro Wong's pulled somehow speaks for itself."
"Right. Well, since I'm magically bankrupt, I'm off." Nina gave him a lazy wave before crushing her crystal. She vanished from sight as she eliminated herself from the trial.
Krum rolled his shoulders, stretched, and then headed deeper into the trees, with an eager spark in his typically impassive eyes.
One hour and fifty minutes into the trial, the Durmstrang champion finally made his move.
...