The Competition Begins

Divination Class is over.

Stepping out of the sweltering classroom filled with the aroma of spices, the crisp, fresh air outside made Loren sneeze.

Ron walked behind Harry, his hands on Harry's shoulders. His eyelids were stuck together tightly, and it was clear that he was struggling to open them, but the weight was too much for him to bear.

Harry's eyes were bloodshot, not from the Fire Dragon's antics last night, but from the ordeal in Divination Class. He suspected that Professor Trelawney really had some kind of Inner Eye, but it only targeted him. Loren and Ron were sound asleep and nothing happened, but Trelawney could see him as soon as he closed his eyes.

In the cold winter, in the warm classroom, I wanted to sleep but couldn't.

Is there any punishment more agonizing than this?

To avoid falling into a coma, Harry reviewed the results of his dream training over the past few days in class, writing down any useful spells and tactics in his notes.

Looking at the densely written parchment in his hand, Harry recalled the scenes of his intensive training over the past week.

Although the first night's memories weren't pleasant—the utterly unreasonable flames still made him somewhat apprehensive when he saw the Swedish Short-Snout —as Loren continued to adjust, the images of the other Fire Dragon became more and more realistic, with the texture of the scales and the patterns of the muscles becoming increasingly clear.

Harry felt he had gradually overcome his fear of Fire Dragon and was able to hold out longer and longer in front of Fire Dragon, especially after receiving guidance from Professor Moody, he began to use Firebolt to deal with the Fire Dragon.

Although it can't defeat the Fire Dragon yet, what's the difference between Fire Dragon that can only follow behind and eat its dust and a blind Basilisk?

I just don't know to what extent the other Champion can do it...

"Loren."

Harry handed him the parchment. "I have some ideas for dealing with Fire Dragon, and I've made several plans for different types of Fire Dragon. For example, the Hebridean Black Dragon is huge but also clumsy and slow-moving, so I can toy with it using Firebolt. The gentle Welsh Green Dragon can be passed by without disturbing it..."

Loren took the parchment and saw only messy characters all over it. He could barely make out one or two words and phrases, and it gave him a headache.

"But so far, I haven't been able to figure out a way to defeat them... I did manage to knock down the Welsh Green Dragon with Stunning Spell last Friday night, but I'm not sure if it was stunned or just wanted to sleep."

Loren felt that this level was enough to pass the competition, but he still looked at it carefully and barely recognized a few spells he had found while looking up information. He paused for a moment and said, "This Blinding Curse, hmm, have you mastered it?"

"Not yet." Harry smiled a little embarrassedly. "This spell seems to be a bit more difficult than the Disarming Charm. I can't fully unleash its power yet, but I should be able to learn it before the competition."

"This spell... is indeed very powerful, and it can even work on Fire Dragon." Loren hesitated for a moment, "However, it's classified as Dark Arts in some books. The damage it causes to Fire Dragon's eyes may take several months to heal. You'd better consider it carefully before using it..."

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

Winter had fully arrived at the Castle, and the temperature around Hogwarts had already dropped. The young wizards had all changed into winter clothes, thick sweaters, and fluffy scarves, making them look like soft, fluffy balls. Some of the chubby ones even waddled as they walked, like geese by the Black Lake.

Although it was already dark, there was still some time before dinner, so Loren and Hermione agreed to meet at the Library.

Just after descending the stairs and turning the corner, I saw that familiar figure. Hermione was wearing a brand-new winter robe and pure black trousers. Her soft, wavy brown hair cascaded down her back. The thick winter sweater made her figure look a little bulky, and her cheeks, which had gained some weight for the winter, were slightly rosy, like apples, making her look quite adorable and tempting one to reach out and pinch them.

The man's gaze was intense, his thoughts written all over his face; he was far too blunt.

Hermione looked at him warily. "Mr. Morgan... your idea is dangerous."

"What bad intentions could kind Morgan possibly have? He just wanted to massage Miss Granger's facial muscles."

"No normal person massages their facial muscles."

"Of course there are!" Loren said confidently. "Lifting facial muscles can reduce wrinkles and slow down aging!"

"..."

Hermione paused for a moment, her eyes growing brighter as she watched the man. She turned and took a step. "Let's go to the Library. If we're late, the Potions book you're looking for will be borrowed by someone else."

"If you can't win an argument, you just change the subject, tsk..." Loren still reached out and poked her cheek before he was satisfied. "Don't worry, those books are very obscure."

"..." Hermione silently noted it down in her mind, "Suddenly you've started learning Potions again, did Professor Snape give you extra lessons?"

"The make-up classes will probably have to be scheduled for next semester."

"What's the meaning?"

He said that there were ill-intentioned people infiltrated the Castle and that we should hide our connections.

Hermione quickly came up with a candidate in mind and cautiously guessed, "Professor Moody? Principal Karkaroff?"

"Possibly, but those two alone wouldn't be enough to make Professor Snape so cautious." Loren's expression was mysterious. "I've always felt that Crouch had a problem, but I didn't expect his problems to be bigger than I thought."

"Is there a problem with Mr. Crouch?"

Loren poked her cheek again. "I'm not sure yet, but Dumbledore should know something. There's definitely a lot of shady dealings going on here. Let's behave ourselves this school year."

"..."

Hermione's eyelashes drooped slightly, her eyes sparkling.

Loren's words cleared up many of her thoughts. No wonder both the Ministry of Magic and Headmaster Dumbledore agreed to let Harry participate as Champion. One side was planning to harm Harry, while the other was planning to lure out the person who orchestrated the conspiracy.

A sudden soreness rose in my cheeks.

Coming to her senses, Hermione's pupils contracted slightly; this person was blatantly pinching her face and pulling it to both sides.

"Massage, hehe, facial massage..."

"Loren Morgan!"

The girl had no expression, yet her seemingly frail body emanated tremendous power.

In the small pavilion in the Castle courtyard.

A little girl wearing a light blue, thick fleece cloak sat on a low stool, looking at the Blue Belladonna Flames in a glass jar. Her delicate and lovely face was full of curiosity. Gabrielle pressed her palm against the outside of the glass jar, and the warmth made her eyes shine.

Sitting opposite them were Ginny, Luna, Harry, and Ron, all wearing Mrs. Weasley's signature thick sweaters, who felt sorry for the girl.

After spending some time with them, she learned that Beauxbatons ' name comes from the French word for "beautiful wand," so the students at this school were all fools who cared more about style than warmth, and most students only brought silk school uniforms and travel cloaks to Hogwarts.

Even if they weren't idiots before, after spending more than half a month there, the temperature difference between Scotland and the France Pyrenees Mountains almost made them go crazy from the cold.

I heard that the thick fleece cloak the little girl was wearing was specially obtained by her sister.

Harry waved his wand, summoning several more blue flames that floated around him. After a moment's thought, he asked, "Gabrielle, the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament of Goblet of Fire is about to begin. Your sister has been secretly training with Madam Maxime. Do you know how their training is going?"

"Secret... special training..."

Gabrielle's speech was unclear, and as a foreigner and still young, she struggled to understand such long sentences.

Ginny stood silently to the side. Recently, she had vaguely noticed some clues about Gabrielle. She could listen to what Gabrielle wanted to hear much more smoothly, but she needed to improve her language skills when it came to what she didn't want to hear.

The main focus is on flexibility and versatility.

Harry nodded repeatedly. "That's right, the First Task the Champion will face is very dangerous. I'm worried about your sister. She's such a beautiful girl, it wouldn't be good if she got hurt."

"!!"

Ginny's expression froze, and she took Gabrielle's hand and stood up. "We shouldn't stay outside for too long. Your cloak is too thin and doesn't keep you warm. Let's go back to the Castle."

Harry scratched his head and watched the three girls walk away.

November 24th, the weather is getting colder every day.

Lunchtime, in the Great Hall.

The young wizards from Ilvermorny explained the origins of Thanksgiving to their new friends they had met in the past few days. Even some of the headmasters and Champion who hadn't been seen for a long time appeared, Great Hall was enveloped in a warm and peaceful festive atmosphere.

Loren sat at the Gryffindor table, hastily swallowed a piece of steak, and turned to Hermione to ask, "Why is it that their ancestors' way of giving thanks was to seize other people's land, slaughter the local inhabitants, and then solemnly establish a Thanksgiving?"

The little Witch paused for a moment, her expression gradually becoming confused, then she bit her spoon and fell into deep thought.

The young wizards around overheard this and their expressions changed slightly.

Before long, the young wizards of Ilvermorny began frantically explaining the specific meaning of Thanksgiving, but none of them could answer a pointed question posed by someone, thus slightly spoiling the warm and peaceful holiday atmosphere.

"Quiet, children, please be quiet!"

Professor McGonagall tapped her wine glass with a silver spoon, the crisp sound drowning out the chatter and drawing everyone's attention to the High Table. "The First Task of the Goblet of Fire Triwizard Tournament will be held this afternoon. We have set up spectator seats on the hill next to the Forbidden Forest. Students who wish to watch the event, please line up in an orderly manner after 2 p. m.

With a clang, Harry's fork fell into the porcelain plate.

Although he had known the news as soon as he woke up that morning, it seemed like he was sitting in the classroom taking A History of Magic one minute and then he was walking into the Great Hall for lunch the next.

The morning seemed to vanish, and the last few hours without the Fire Dragon attack also disappeared.

"Also, Champion, please leave with me after lunch. You need to enter early to have your wands checked, and to draw lots." Professor McGonagall paused for a moment, "And to draw lots."

The Great Hall erupted in excitement at the news, and the young wizards shifted their conversation from Thanksgiving to the brave Champion.

Loren listened intently for a few moments.

Some marveled at Phoebe's beautiful face, some envied Krum's robust physique, and some said that Gravis had shown off a few tricks in Charms Class.

The most talked-about characters are Cedric and Harry. Cedric could turn his whistles into singing clocks even before he enrolled, not to mention Harry's victory over the troll in his first year and his slaying of the Basilisk in his second year...

In short, they showed extraordinary talent at a young age.

The Champion listened to the surrounding discussions, and when someone came close to them, they had to force a very forced smile.

Phoebe Delacour was not as composed as usual; her face was very pale, though she was usually quite fair-skinned, but now she looked sickly.

Viktor Krum looked more somber than usual, while Pickley Gravis clutched his gold bow tie tightly, his expression stiff.

Cedric smiled at the people around him, but the muscles in his face moved awkwardly, as if he had forgotten how to smile.

Harry lost his appetite; all the delicious food in front of him paled in comparison. Some of the undercooked steaks were still bloody and looked like thighs bitten off by Fire Dragon.

No wonder Loren never liked this kind of steak... Harry's face was pale. Although he had accumulated enough experience fighting Fire Dragon in his dream, he was still uneasy on the eve of his turn to go on stage.

Until Loren said lightly, "If you don't eat something now, what if you lose your strength and fall off the broom later?"

Harry was startled and began to eat voraciously.

The Goblet of Goblet of Fire Triwizard Tournament has begun.

Hagrid led them around the Edge of the Forbidden Forest to a circular hill surrounded by stands. In the center was a huge pit with strangely shaped boulders scattered haphazardly, resembling a rudimentary giant arena.

The cold wind howled, but the young wizards were full of enthusiasm.

The Prefect organized crowds to cheer on the Champion. Because of the special circumstances surrounding Harry's participation, Hogwarts students generally supported Cedric, but Gryffindor students stubbornly supported Harry.

They took out the banners and lion flags they had prepared for previous Quidditch Match and shouted loudly.

Loren leaned on the fence and looked to the side. A canyon-like passageway had been carved out of the side wall, separated by boulders and wooden doors, leading to tents and a sheltered enclosure next to the hill. It looked like the entrance for the Champion and the Fire Dragon.

Hermione estimated the distance between here and the Castle, then looked at Ron beside her. "It's so far away, can Harry's Summoning Charm bring the Firebolt over?"

"Don't worry!" Ron patted his chest and assured him, "We tested it at Hagrid's Hut yesterday, and it's guaranteed to work fine. In addition, I specifically placed the Firebolt on the Greenhouse roof to shorten the distance by more than half, so there will be absolutely no problem!"

Merlin's stinky boots!

A familiar voice rang out, and Seamus staggered over to the group, his face a mixture of excitement and fear. "You have no idea what I overheard!"

"They're drawing from the Fire Dragon!" he exclaimed eagerly before anyone could ask. "The First Task is for the Champion to retrieve Golden Egg from under the Fire Dragon... Oh my god, Fire Dragon..."

Through intelligence gathered by the demolition expert and scout Finnigan, Loren and his team learned about the lottery results for the First Task.

Cedric Diggory, Swedish Short-Snout;

Pickley Gravis, the Hebridean Black Dragon;

Phoebe Delacour, the Welsh Green Dragon;

Viktor Krum, the Chinese Fireball Dragon;

Harry Potter, the Hungarian Horntail Dragon.