Tent Draw

Two days later, on Tuesday, November 24th.

The morning class is Herbology.

The course covered how to prune Flutterby Bush. This is an unconscious but sentient plant, similar to Jumping Toadstool. When it senses a living thing approaching, it will frequently shake its branches, making it difficult to cut its twigs.

It only blooms when carefully cared for over a long period. Its flowers are very precious, blooming only once every hundred years. The flowers are butterfly-shaped and usually blue, but other varieties may exist. What's peculiar about its flowers is that the fragrance they emit is not fixed, but can change depending on the object it wants to attract.

This flower is most famously used in Potions for Love Potions, but it is also often used by wizard hunters as bait or traps.

It must be said that the lesson was actually quite interesting, but—all the young wizards seemed distracted, and most of them kept glancing furtively in Skylar's direction.

Because, in just a few hours, the Triwizard Tournament will begin!

On the contrary, Skylar, playing as Champion, didn't take the game seriously at all, and just let time pass as it would!

At noon, after lunch, Professor McGonagall hurried toward him in the Great Hall, followed by the thin Harry. Harry's face was extremely pale, a visibly ashen color. This was not surprising; in the original story, even knowing the questions beforehand could make him incredibly nervous, let alone facing the unknown now.

Skylar suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for Dumbledore. Was this the successor the Headmaster had painstakingly groomed?

Harry is kind, simple, and loyal. However, without the power his mother left him, he would never have been an outstanding person, let alone capable of shouldering the responsibility of being Savior.

The original text says he had courage, which came from a series of close calls (with Dumbledore overseeing things behind him). In the first year, he faced Voldemort; in the second year, he faced the Basilisk; in the third year, he faced over a hundred Dementors... Unfortunately, apart from the adventure in the first year, all his other achievements were overshadowed by Skylar.

"Skylar, now the Champion need to go to the field below... You must be ready to complete the First Task," Professor McGonagall said.

"Okay, no problem, Professor, I'm all ready." Skylar stood up, revealing a sunny smile. He gently adjusted his Supreme Robe, which clung to his body in battle robe mode, outlining his perfectly sculpted muscles. The subtle patterns on the robe radiated a captivating charm, making him appear incredibly confident, heroic, and handsome!

Daphne and Astoria stood up at the same time, showering him with kisses on both cheeks. Daphne whispered in his ear, "Good luck."

"You're such a lucky child." Professor McGonagall smiled, a rare occurrence for her. "And you look great today. Are you confident?"

"This is all thanks to the professor's meticulous guidance; Skylar that I have the strength I have today," Skylar said with a smile. "I will do my utmost and will not let the professor down—"

He glanced around the Great Hall, raised his right fist high, and proclaimed in Sonorus Charm, "We will not let you down! Hogwarts will prevail!"

Ravenclaw, led by Morrie and Cho Chang, cheered loudly, waving small flags with Skylar's image on them wildly, which crackled in the air. Luna, on the other hand, produced a horn-shaped horn from somewhere and blew it out with an exciting tune!

Led by Cedric, Hufflepuff clapped enthusiastically. Susan Bones, pulling along Hannah Abbott, Megan Jones, and several other girls—who had clearly rehearsed—chanted in unison, "Skylar! Victory! Hogwarts! Victory! Skylar! Victory!..."

Hermione from Gryffindor stared intently at herself, silently waving her clenched right fist and mouthing a silent "Go for it!" gesture. Among the group of motionless young wizards, her actions stood out. Ron, standing beside her, even showed a look of disgust, but he refrained from criticizing her because of their recent Hermione relationship.

The young Slytherin wizards all stood up, looking at Skylar with awe and admiration. Though they said nothing, their support and encouragement were evident on their faces. Draco walked over, slapped Skylar hard on the shoulder, and said with a smile, "Go for it, brother! Go for it! Mom, Dad, and I are so proud of you!"

On the professors' platform, the diminutive Professor Flitwick stood on his chair and clapped loudly, giving Skylar an encouraging look; Professor Sprout beamed, casually scattering a large shower of seven-colored, seven-flavored flower petals; Professor Trelawney raised his goblet of sherry high; Snape, abandoning his aloofness, unusually joined the other professors in clapping, though his face remained stern...

Skylar smiled, a genuine smile. He tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and became lost in the moment.

Regardless of the outcome of the match, he will never forget today, he will never forget this moment.

His name was Skylar Malfoy; his identity was that of a Slytherin, but today—

At this moment, in this minute, in this second, he is Hogwarts!

Dumbledore, watching this scene from afar on the professor's bench, had a flickering gaze, but couldn't help but sigh inwardly.

Although he was mentally prepared and had already begun trying to win over Skylar, he was still somewhat surprised by Skylar's immense prestige among the students. After all, Skylar was only a fourth-year student; he didn't recall Voldemort having such a reputation in his fourth year!

Moreover, Skylar's family was notoriously hostile towards Half-bloods and Muggle-born wizards —it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say they were infamous. And now? Even Muggle-born Hermione Champion Harry's friend, was cheering him on. What was going on?

A glint of wisdom flashed in Dumbledore's eyes. He had a premonition that all of this was probably just the beginning for Skylar. He could already disregard the distinctions between houses and bloodlines, uniting the will and hearts of the people; if he truly won the competition...

It seems my earlier act of kindness in sending Abatair was indeed prescient!

Professor McGonagall led Skylar and Harry around the edge of the Forbidden Forest toward the Fire Dragon's lair.

The weather outside was quite cold, with gusts of cold wind constantly blowing against the three of them. Harry's face grew increasingly ashen. Skylar activated the temperature-regulating function of the Supreme Robe, and not only did he not feel the slightest bit cold, but he even felt somewhat warm.

As they approached the grove of trees that would have provided a clear view of the area, a tent was erected there, blocking the Fire Dragons from view, and the tent's entrance faced them directly.

"You must go in with a few other Champion," Professor McGonagall said, her voice trembling slightly as she looked at Harry. "When it's your turn, Mr. Bagman Potter be inside... He will tell you the steps... Good luck."

"Thank you," Harry said in a monotonous, ethereal voice.

Inside the tent.

Katarin reclined languidly on a luxurious Unicorn -skin chair, her flawless white wizard robes making her alabaster skin appear even more radiant.

Her eyes were closed, her eyelashes trembled slightly, and her high, full breasts rose and fell gently, exuding a breathtakingly languid beauty, as if she had fallen into a deep sleep, like Sleeping Beauty in Muggle fairy tale.

But under Skylar's Magic Eye, he could clearly see the fluctuations of her magical energy, sometimes strong, sometimes weak, rising and falling frequently, as if the magic in her blood was undergoing continuous miniature magical surges. He knew that she was resting with her eyes closed, concentrating on nurturing the power of her bloodline, "Sword Heart," and was so focused on that she didn't even notice when someone came in.

Eleanor stood upright, gently stroking her wand in her hand, her gaze fixed on it with tenderness and focus, as if caressing her lover. Skylar frowned; his Magic Eye could clearly see the sealing power on the wand gradually dissipating...

These two guys, it's only their First Task, and they're already getting serious? Are you guys trying to slay a dragon?

As for Harry, he stood there like a statue, his whole body stiff. Skylar Harry a faint smile, but Harry returned the smile with a smile that was more like a grimace.

Well, this guy's reaction is much more normal.

A tremendous roar could be heard coming from outside the tent. Just from the deafening roar, you could tell that it was definitely some kind of large animal.

At that moment, Bagman walked into the tent with a big smile on his face.

As if sensing something, Katarin's eyelashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes. The entire tent was instantly illuminated, as if sword light was falling, and waves of invisible sharpness surged in the air, scraping against the exposed skin of the others. Everyone could feel a slight chill from it.

Bagman's face paled, and he immediately swallowed back the words he was about to say.

Bagman waited a few minutes to allow his complexion to recover somewhat before speaking, "Alright, everyone's here now. It's time to explain the situation!" His face lit up with excitement again. "Did you hear that sound outside? That's the enemy you're facing... Fire Dragon!"

"I'm going to pass this bag to each of you in turn," he said, holding up a bag and shaking it at them. "You'll each pick out the Fire Dragon model you'll be facing! There are different kinds. And I have something else to tell you... oh, right... your task is to collect the Golden Eggs!"

"Ladies first," he said, handing the bag to Katarin with his large arm.

Katarin reached her fair, delicate hand into her cloth bag and pulled out a small, lifelike model of a dragon—a jade-green body, brown pupils, and an elegant, slender neck with a number tied around it: Number Two. It was a Welsh Green Dragon.

Among the many dragon species, the Welsh Green Dragon is considered one of the most docile. Katarin's lips curled slightly, and a smile appeared in her eyes; she seemed quite pleased with her luck.

Eleanor pulled out a bright red Chinese Fireball, with the number three around its neck. The Chinese Fireball resembles a giant lion and is extremely brave and fierce. Although this dragon species is not particularly strong, it is not an easy opponent to deal with, especially when it is injured, as it becomes berserk and reckless, greatly increasing its danger.

At this moment, Eleanor's face was expressionless; she didn't even blink, as if no matter what kind of dragon she chose, it couldn't stir any emotion within her.

Skylar pulled out a silver-blue Swedish Short-Snout, with the number one tied around its neck.

Unlucky Harry pulled out the black Hungarian Horntail, number four. This was the most aggressive and dangerous of the four types of Fire Dragons. Its fearsome reputation was known even to Harry, who came from the Muggle world and had only recently entered the wizarding world.

Harry's face was now ashen, devoid of any color.

"Alright, you've all got them!" Bagman said. "You've all drawn the Fire Dragons you'll be facing. The numbers around your necks indicate the order in which you'll confront the Fire Dragons, understand? Okay, I need to leave you for a moment now because I need to give commentary to the audience. Mr. Malfoy, you're first. As soon as you hear the whistle, go into that area, understand?"

"Understood, don't worry, Mr. Bagman," Skylar nodded in reply, his face showing no nervousness, but rather a confident and composed smile.

Swedish Short-Snout, the Triwizard Tournament, here I come!