Each Showing Their Skills

"Oh, that's a very straightforward approach. I'm not sure if it's wise to do it this way!"

Accompanied by Bagman's deliberately somber tone, the unconscious Gravis was led into the tent by Madam Pomfrey, causing the young wizards to sigh with worry.

"Now, judges, please give your scores!"

As soon as he finished speaking, everyone's eyes turned to the referee's table, where the atmosphere among the referees was somewhat subtle.

Headmaster Fontana felt extremely uncomfortable, as if everyone around him was looking at him strangely, especially Maxime and Karkaroff, who would glance at the others every now and then. After their eyes met, they seemed to reach some kind of consensus before looking back at him.

It seems that the principals share some secret, but they exclude him from the list.

This feeling made him extremely awkward and uncomfortable, as if Horned Serpent were crawling all over him.

Although Pickley's journey to obtain the Golden Egg was somewhat chaotic, unlike Cedric Diggory's earlier appearance, his ability to remain calm and use a combination of magic and his excellent skills to pass the test after suddenly learning that the First Task was Fire Dragon was not bad at all...

What kind of expressions are Maxime and Karkaroff making?

The Champion from your other two schools might not perform as well against the Fire Dragon.

Fontana was thinking to himself, but his face remained calm and composed, displaying the demeanor of a student from the prestigious Ilvermorny University.

Dumbledore glanced at him, then at the other two professors, and asked intriguingly, "I suddenly have a question for you, Aegilbert. What kind of training have you been giving to the Champion of your school during your month at Hogwarts?"

Crouch remained calm, as if it were none of his business.

Maxime and Karkaroff remained silent, glancing discreetly at Fontana.

"Train?"

Fontana didn't understand why he asked that, but still answered, "Some routine dueling training, and explaining to him the differences between wizards from different countries, and then let him choose some courses from your school."

"I heard that you used to have lessons on Animagus and Patronus Charm during regular classes, but they were canceled this year. That kid was quite disappointed."

"..."

Dumbledore silent, his gaze subtle and complex.

Maxime asked tentatively, "Did you know that the First Task was already being deployed before we arrived? The Fire Dragon Enclosure is located in the Forbidden Forest."

Fontana vaguely sensed something, but hadn't quite grasped it yet. He cautiously replied, "I don't know if the First Task is the Fire Dragon. I only know that the venue is in the Forbidden Forest, so Pickley's training grounds are all located on the open ground by the Black Lake, which is some distance from here."

"..."

Maxime and Karkaroff also fell silent, a deep silence.

Crouch coughed lightly. "Let's begin scoring."

In a tacitly understood atmosphere, Pickley Gravis, who was seriously injured and left the field in a sorry state, achieved the same score as Cedric, averaging 7 points.

Fontana gave the lowest score, looked at Dumbledore with a puzzled expression and asked, "Why did you all give such high scores? Pickley took longer to get the Golden Egg and was more seriously injured."

"Aegilbert, we can't just look at appearances," Dumbledore said meaningfully. "Gravis deserves this grade. Look at those bloodstains; every drop is imbued with an indomitable spirit and a strong will..."

He rubbed the corner of his eye, as if he was so moved that he was about to cry.

"Is that so?"

Fontana seemed unsure, Maxime and Karkaroff nodded in agreement, but Crouch's lips curled into a mocking smile, the meaning of which was unclear...

"Call out..."

The whistle blew.

The third Champion has entered the arena.

Loren and Hermione looked down and saw Phoebe Delacour, dressed in a light blue silk petticoat, walking gracefully out of the passage. She wore a light-colored long-sleeved floral chiffon blouse, and her fair, smooth arms and neck were wrinkled with goosebumps from the cold wind, adding to the chill of the Forbidden Forest at the end of November.

Not only the boys, but even some of the girls were stunned.

She drew the most docile Welsh Green Dragon, with green scales and a medium to small size. They mainly feed on small mammals such as sheep and actively avoid humans. They have no terrifying venom, nor extremely dangerous flames.

The Common Welsh Green is almost the least troublesome of all Fire Dragon; its most serious previous incident was the Ilfracombe Incident.

In 1932, a mischievous Common Welsh Green attacked a group of sunbathers in Ilfracombe, Devon, England, but was stopped by the Toke Family, who happened to be traveling there. Although it triggered the largest collective memory wipeout of the 20th century, no one was injured.

The green dragon, lying lazily on the boulder, caught sight of the Witch in its field of vision and let out a not-so-loud roar from its mouth and nose.

The green dragon's roar is very unique, and in some ways even quite beautiful.

Phoebe Delacour controlled the maximum distance of the green dragon's flames, stood firmly, bowed gracefully to it, and then began to dance lightly.

The dress was neatly tailored, outlining the girl's graceful figure. Her arms were slender, her legs were long, and the drape of the silk was like a flowing stream, with the hem swaying smoothly, making the Witch look like a fairy from a legend.

Some boys were mesmerized, their eyes glued to the screen. The girls' expressions varied; some were appreciative, others showed a hint of disdain. Almost all the young wizards shared a common question:

Why is she dancing for the Fire Dragon? What is she doing?

As Hermione sized up the Fire Dragon, she caught a glimpse of Justin and the others in the opposite stands, completely absorbed in the spectacle. Just like when she saw the Veela at the Quidditch World Cup, the girl, for some secret reason, quietly turned to look at the person next to her.

Loren grinned as his eyes met a pair of dark eyes.

Hermione paused for a moment, then turned her head to continue looking at the arena.

As Phoebe's dance movements became lighter and slower, some perceptive young wizards noticed something amiss. The already languid Welsh Green Dragon's eyelids were drooping, like a student struggling in Divination Class, its eyelids beginning to tremble.

Amidst astonished gazes, the green dragon closed its eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

Phoebe watched as the green dragon lost consciousness, breathed a sigh of relief, and rubbed her sore shoulders.

She jumped continuously for almost half an hour, longer than she had expected, but fortunately, her grandmother's hypnotic magic really worked on the Fire Dragon.

Phoebe, lifting her skirt, tiptoed closer to the green dragon, carefully holding the Golden Egg in both hands. Just as she announced her success, the green dragon suddenly started snoring, and a burst of golden flames shot out, igniting the hem of her skirt.

Phoebe was startled and hurriedly summoned water to extinguish the flames before running away as if fleeing.

In the stands, Ron watched Phoebe's retreating figure and chuckled to himself, "Even her exit is so beautiful..."

Hermione cast a disdainful glance at Loren beside her, whose eyes were clear and bright, and felt a little better.

Not everyone is so vulgar.

"Speaking of which..." Loren's low voice sounded in my ear, "I've never seen Professor Granger dance before. Although I attended Professor Granger's dance class, back then it was more about teaching and experiencing..."

"How about you dance for me as my Christmas present this year, just for me alone..."

You're vulgar too.

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to look at the judges' scores.

"That was a wise move..."

Dumbledore chuckled softly, "I've always felt that spells and violence aren't the only solutions to problems. In that beautiful dance just now, I saw communication, and for that, I'd give it a 9 out of 10."

"She is very talented, and I am proud of her."

Madam Maxime said reservedly, but gave it a perfect score of 10 without any hesitation.

"Indeed, an amazing performance..."

Fontana pondered how to score, but that uneasy feeling resurfaced. Beauxbatons ' Champion had managed to pass the test so flawlessly...

However, in return for Madam Maxime's earlier high score for Gravis, he still gave it an 8.

"If only we had been more careful at the end."

Crouch gave it a score of 7 as he spoke.

Bagman nodded repeatedly. "Moreover, this method takes too long and cannot deal with an emotionally unstable Fire Dragon. I can only give it a 7 out of 10."

"A high score... that won't do..."

Karkaroff muttered something under his breath, then casually raised his wand, spitting out a thin beam of light that twisted in the air to form a large "4".

"What?"

Maxime's voice was filled with shock and anger, his right hand clenched into a fist larger than his head. "4 points? With such an outstanding performance from Phoebe, why only 4 points?"

"Oh, like I just said, this method is too opportunistic. I can't see any spell level or combat skills at all..." Karkaroff said confidently.

"Oh!"

Maxime slowly calmed his angry breathing and gave Karkaroff a meaningful look. "Well said. Let's see how Krum performs!"

With a whistle, Viktor Krum, his face grim, stepped out of the corridor.

His opponent was a Chinese Fireball Dragon, with bright red scales, a lion's nose, and a ring of golden, tassel-like spikes around its face. It could shoot mushroom-shaped fireballs from its nostrils, hence the name Fireball Dragon.

Loren had no time to observe the Fireball Dragon's abilities; he only saw Krum cast an Blinding Curse, and the intense pain and blindness caused the dragon to lose its mind, struggling painfully on the field.

Krum carefully avoided the Fire Dragon's wildly swinging tail and claws, and in less than twenty minutes, he successfully picked up the Golden Egg.

The overwhelming applause shattered the winter air like broken glass.

"This is the first Champion to wound the Fire Dragon!" The Witch of the Stargazing Club cheered.

On the judges' stand, watching the keepers enter to soothe the Fire Dragon and clean up the remains of the dragon eggs that had been crushed by the Fire Dragon, Dumbledore frowned. "A brilliant spell, but it shouldn't have destroyed those dragon eggs... For that, I can only give it a 6."

"Yes, life is gestating inside the dragon egg!" Maxime said compassionately, though a faint smile played on his lips.

Although Karkaroff gave Krum full marks for getting the Golden Egg the fastest and without a scratch, his final average score was only barely 7 points.

The last to appear.

The most ferocious Hungarian Horntail.

Could the lottery results be any worse?

Inside the Champion ' waiting tent, Harry sat anxiously behind the canvas, listening intently. Aside from the chaotic cheers, Bagman's commentary became his way of gathering intelligence about the outside world.

The events of the day kept flashing through Harry's mind. He tried to focus on the upcoming match, but all sorts of chaotic thoughts kept popping up uncontrollably, like wild grass growing by the roadside.

Ludo Bagman was quite strange; he sneaked up on him after the draw and offered to help.

Phoebe Delacour, she's so beautiful...

Pickley Gravis, he seems to be a jinx, only finding out about the Fire Dragon today.

Viktor Krum was a gloomy and aloof man... Harry had originally wanted to exchange Seeker techniques and experience in dealing with Fire Dragon with him, but he remained expressionless the entire time...

Phoebe is so beautiful...

Harry's expression froze, and he shook his head to clear his mind, but his mind quickly wandered again.

After an unknown amount of time, the whistling sound came from afar. At first, it was indistinct, but it became clearer and clearer, more and more piercing, like the rumble of a glacier cracking open, like the cry of a tender bud breaking through the soil.

Harry walked through the tent exit, across the path beside the bushes, and slowly but steadily into the entrance passage.

Deep in the Forbidden Forest, the cold winter wind, carrying the fresh scent of damp trees, blows into the depths of the brain through the ears, nostrils, and eyes, freezing away all feelings of tension, fear, and unease.

Harry saw the scene before him, but he couldn't see it clearly; it was like a vividly colored dream.

Turning his head, he saw hundreds of faces looking at him from the stands. Ron, Loren, and Hermione were in the stands on the right, along with some familiar faces. Some were waving at him, and some were shouting at him.

The sounds were indistinguishable as well as ill intent; a cacophony of noise surged in like a tide, then receded, gradually dissipating.

At the other end of the paddock, the Hungarian Horntail stands prominently.

It crouched low, guarding its nest of eggs, its wings half-folded, its body enormous, covered in scales, and its spiky tail leaving pitted marks on the hard ground.

Those vicious yellow eyes were staring intently at him.

Harry stared directly at the enormous creature opposite him, his emerald green eyes unwavering.

In the nightmares of the past month, those Fire Dragon also had similar sharp teeth and claws, and even more terrifying flames. He had lost count of how many times he had perished in their jaws, turned to ashes, and how many times he had watched the world shatter into pieces like mirrors.

Finally standing in front of the Fire Dragon in reality, I felt a sense of relief and ease.

Harry raised his wand and shouted, "Firebolt, Accio!"

Then, the audience in the stands heard a whooshing sound.

Looking up, a fiery red streak of light streaked across the sky and flew swiftly towards them.