The Script, It's All a Script

After spending some time in the locker room, Kyle and the others returned to the stands.

Professor McGonagall seated them in the stands next to the referee's table.

"You'll have to wait a little longer..." she said. "The scoring won't begin until all the Champion have come out."

Kyle nodded in understanding.

After Professor McGonagall left, he watched the game with the peace of mind of an ordinary spectator.

This feeling is pretty good.

On the field, both Krum and Phoebe have reached the third level.

However, as he watched, Kyle suddenly realized that he seemed to have unwittingly increased the difficulty of the game.

Because he passed the third level ahead of time, Krum and Phoebe were just facing two Dragon.

In other words, the simplest way to pass the level—two people distracting the Dragon while one person carries the stone—is no longer viable; they must now confront the Dragon directly to pass.

The problem was that after passing the first two levels, their condition was extremely poor. Phoebe was pale and panting heavily, and Krum was also holding a Firebolt, but his arm was bleeding.

To be honest, this was somewhat unexpected for Kyle... He had thought that the two of them would be less exhausted, since strictly speaking, they only really needed to face one hurdle.

"You're something else," a rough, hoarse voice came from behind.

Kyle turned around and saw that it was Professor Moody.

He looked very happy, and the demonic eye twitched incessantly in its socket.

"Your Summoning Charm was both decisive and beautiful... It would have been even better if you had used it in the first level, since the Kneazle is much slower than the Firebolt."

He spoke at length, as if commenting on Kyle's performance. "And the third round surprised me the most. Boldness, decisiveness, confidence... If you want to join the Auror, based on this competition alone, I can arrange for you to join the Auror Office ahead of schedule."

"So, are you interested?"

"Thank you, Professor," Kyle said, "But I'm still a student, so let's talk about this after I graduate."

He knew perfectly well that what he meant by being bold and decisive was just a script, all of which had been discussed in advance.

However, the effect seems quite good so far. Even Professor Moody, who has the Magic Eye, couldn't tell, so others certainly can't either... Perhaps Dumbledore exception, but the impact is minimal.

Seemingly sensing Kyle's refusal, Professor Moody nodded and said nothing more.

Kyle turned back to watch the game.

"Oh, so close... watch out... my God, I thought she had already succeeded."

"That was too dangerous, ouch... Krum's move was really close."

About ten minutes later, the audience erupted in cheers and applause once again.

After all, they were the best students in both academies, and having known about the Dragon beforehand, they were naturally not stumped.

Phoebe used a strange hypnotic spell to make the Dragon drowsy... Kyle felt that the dragon tamers would probably like to learn this trick, since they usually need five or six people to use Stunning Spell together to put the Dragon to sleep.

As for Krum, he chose a similar approach to Kyle: first lure the dragon away, then turn around and retrieve the stone.

However, he chose the wrong target. The moment he succeeded, he was whipped away by the tail of the Hungarian Horntail. When he finally came out, he couldn't even stand up, and others had to help carry him to Madam Pomfrey.

He returned after only ten minutes, looking much more listless, but at least he was able to walk again.

"Now you believe me, Karkaroff," said Dumbledore. "Our Madam Pomfrey will surely return to you a lively and energetic Champion."

Karkaroff's tense expression finally faded... Although Krum's current state was nothing like his usual lively self, it was still much better than before.

"Hogwarts has an excellent healer," he said.

"Now that all the Champion are here," Bagman stood up and announced loudly, "Let's begin the most exciting part: scoring the Champion ' performances... I'm sure you're all eager to get started."

Everyone immediately looked over.

"No more than ten points per person," Bagman said. "First up is Fleur Delacour, so I'll go first..."

He raised his wand into the air, and a long, silver ribbon-like substance shot out from it.

"7 points!"

Next up is Chris, who also gave it a 7.

"It's probably because she lost points in the second round," Cedric muttered. "Her performance back then really wasn't very good."

Then Dumbledore gave it an eight... Madame Maxime a nine.

When it was Karkaroff's turn...

"What?" George said incredulously, "Two points? That's too low! She passed all the levels, after all."

However, Bagman didn't seem to hear him.

Next up is Viktor Krum...

Bagman and Karkaroff both scored 10 points, but he ultimately scored significantly higher than Phoebe.

And then there's Madame Maxime... she really couldn't do what Karkaroff did, so she also gave her a five.

Finally, it's Kyle.

"Ah, there's nothing to say." Bagman smiled and held up his wand. "Absolutely, without a doubt!"

Chris then smiled and gave the same score.

As if they had planned it together, the four judges gave the same score of ten.

Karkaroff was the last one; he agonized for a long time, seemingly recalling every possible mistake Kyle might have made.

Finally, he extended his wand and spat out a number... 9.

"What?" Before Kyle could say anything, Fred roared angrily, "Nine points? You wretched, biased guy, you don't deserve to be a referee..."

George retorted angrily, "You gave Krum a perfect score, but did he do better Kyle?"

Everyone else was also indignant... To be honest, although it wasn't a perfect score, nine points was already very high, and everyone could accept it.

But the problem is, he just gave Krum a perfect score.

Anyone with a modicum of intelligence and basic common sense could see that Kyle performed far better Krum in these three levels... yet he scored one point lower.

This comparison is hard for people to accept... Such blatant favoritism is shameless!

However, Karkaroff was completely ignoring these voices, not even turning his head, as if he hadn't heard them at all.

"Hey, here you go!"

At that moment, something that looked like a crumpled piece of parchment suddenly flew towards them from the dense crowd, its target being Karkaroff's head.

"Throwing paper balls... Ha, that's just a child's game."

Karkaroff disdainfully reached out, ready to slap it aside.

However, the moment his hand touched the crumpled paper, it exploded... a stream of grayish-black liquid with a strong odor poured directly onto Karkaroff's face.

Karkaroff was stunned for a moment, then his face quickly turned from blue to purple, and then to deathly pale.

vomit...

It stank so badly that he almost fainted for a moment.

Everyone around, including Dumbledore and Olympe Maxime, instinctively backed away... some used the Bubble-Head Charm, some used the Whirlwind Charm, some covered their noses—everyone did what they could to try and stop the stench from spreading.

Karkaroff's expression darkened further upon seeing this.

It wasn't because no one came to help, but because he had just discovered that some of the foul-smelling juice had splashed into his mouth.