0565 Surprises

After Hermione, it was Fleur’s turn. With a trembling hand, she reached into the depths of the bag, feeling the miniature dragon figurines squirming in her fingers. Her heart pounded in her chest as she grasped one and carefully withdrew it. As she opened her palm, she saw the small green dragon perched there – the Welsh Green.

An immense wave of relief crashed over Fleur and she let out the breath she had been holding in a huge sigh. Although facing a dragon was still frightening, at least she knew she wouldn’t have to be the first champion to enter the arena. That dubious honor went to one of her male competitors.

Unfortunately, neither Krum nor Cedric were as lucky in their draws. Krum pulled out the third slot, but found himself matched up against the most vicious and ferocious of the four dragons – the Hungarian Horntail.

Cedric, on the other hand, would have to battle the Swedish Short-Snout right out of the gate as the first champion.

No sooner had the champions seen their fate than two tournament staff members sprinted out of the tent, clutching the parchment recording the results of the draw. One dashed off to inform the dragon handlers of the order the beasts should be brought into the rocky arena. The other hurried over to the broadcast booth to deliver the news to the commentators so they could share it with the eager crowd.

“Alright, champions, you have just a few short minutes to collect yourselves and make any final adjustments to your strategy,” Bryan said calmly. “When you hear the whistle, follow the directions of the tournament staff and make your way through the outside tunnel. Understood?”

The four young competitors nodded stiffly, their faces etched with lines of tension and worry, indicating they understood.

There was nothing more for Bryan to say. The rest depended on their own preparations. Giving them a brisk nod, he turned to exit the tent.

But before he could take more than a step, Fleur suddenly broke away from the cluster of champions. She rushed toward him, her clear blue eyes flickering with a tempest of emotions – fear, doubt, determination. When she spoke, her voice quivered and her words tumbled out in a breathless gush.

“What if… what if something goes wrong? What if the dragons break free of their restraints and rampage out of control?”

Bryan met her anxious gaze, wanting to offer reassurance but knew he couldn’t indulge the champions or give them false confidence. After all they had to be prepared for the danger they faced.

“Professor Dumbledore and I will do everything in our power to control the situation and prevent any tragedies, Miss Delacour,” He said solemnly. “But you, and all of you-“

He raised his voice slightly and looked around at the other three champions, “must understand and accept that the tasks of the Triwizard Tournament are inherently dangerous. I wish I could promise you’ll emerge completely unscathed, but that’s simply not realistic. Sustaining some injuries, even serious ones, may be unavoidable. In the end, once you step into that arena, you’ll have to rely on your own skills, instincts, and determination to overcome the obstacles in your path.”

He hadn’t wanted to dampen their spirits, but he felt it was necessary to give that sobering reminder of what they were up against.

Fleur paled slightly and took a step back, but lifted her chin, and gave him a slight nod.

Breathing a small sigh, Bryan exited the tent, with Ludo and Barty trailing behind him.

The three men began ascending the stairs to the tall circular viewing platform that surrounded the arena below. But halfway up, Bryan halted abruptly.

“Ludo, Barty – go on ahead and get settled. I’m going to check in with Charlie and the other dragon handlers one more time. I’m worried something unexpected might happen when the dragons enter the arena.”

Barty dipped his head in acknowledgment and continued climbing without pause. But Ludo lingered for a moment, watching Bryan’s tall figure striding back down the stairs and towards the tunnel leading outside. A pleasant smile appeared at one corner of his mouth, but after a moment he turned and rushed after Barty.

The large scoreboard screen at one end of the screen shimmered and dissolved into a new image. Four lines of brightly colored text appeared, one after the other:

CEDRIC DIGGORY (HOGWARTS) vs SWEDISH SHORT-SNOUT 

FLEUR DELACOUR (BEAUXBATONS) vs WELSH GREEN

VIKTOR KRUM (DURMSTRANG) vs HUNGARIAN HORNTAIL

HERMIONE GRANGER (HOGWARTS) vs CHINESE FIREBALL

The greatest of efforts had been made to keep the details of the tournament tasks a closely guarded secret from anyone not directly involved in the planning. Until this very moment, neither the eager students filling the stands nor the visiting bigwigs in the top box had the slightest hint of the nature of the challenge their champions would be facing.

When the vibrant text materialized on the screen, a hush fell over the loud crowd, leaving the stadium eerily silent for a few long heartbeats. Then, all at once, a roar of noise erupted from the section at the base of the stands where the youngest students were gathered. Shouts, cheers, and applause rippled through the assembled mass of spectators like a wave crashing onto a beach during a storm.

“Dragons! It’s dragons! This is so cool. I can’t believe they dared to do this!” shouted one onlooker, leaping up in excitement.

The youthful Gryffindors in particular were beside themselves. Seamus leapt up from his seat, accidentally toppling a full goblet of pumpkin juice in the process and sending a mini flood of orange liquid flowing across the tabletop. But he paid the spill no mind, cupping his hands around his mouth as he screamed himself hoarse, his face glowing red with exhilaration.

All around him, his housemates reacted similarly, almost competing to see who could cheer, whistle and stomp their feet the loudest to express their excitement and nervous anticipation for the spectacle about to unfold.

Of course, there were a few exceptions to the celebrations.

Neville, who hadn’t been lucky enough to witness the Quidditch World Cup in person over the summer and experience that unparalleled energy and enthusiasm, looked utterly overwhelmed by the near-pandemonium breaking out around him. But when he saw the eye-catching lines on the big screen, his whole body froze as if he had been hit by a Stunning Spell, and he remained frozen in place, gripping the edge of the bench.

Next to him, Ron hadn’t fared much better. Thoroughly drenched by the flood of pumpkin juice Seamus had released, Ron gaped open-mouthed at the giant scoreboard, apparently rendered temporarily mute with shock. But after a few seconds, he leapt up.

He hadn’t misheard that night. The tournament organizers were really making the champions face dragons.

“Gerroff, out of my way!” he roared, frantically shoving at a lump of younger students blocking the aisle. “I need to check on, make sure she’s alright! Bloody hell, I still can’t believe they’re making her battle a dragon, what are they thinking?!”

But the others, all caught up in the jubilant emotions, paid no attention to him or made way for him. After a few futile attempts to force his way through the crowd, just as desperation rose inside him, Ron’s frantic gaze suddenly spotted Harry, who was also staring at the big screen with a grim expression, in the aisle separating the viewing areas.

“HARRY!” Ron roared, waving his arms wildly to get his attention. “Did you hear that? How is Hermione now? Has the Ministry gone mad? They’re really making her fight dragons!”

Professor Watson had instructed the physical education students to maintain order at the tournament venue. They had to stay vigilant for any overexcited spectators acting out, as the arena was packed with students and important figures from the wizarding world. But when Hermione’s name appeared on the tournament screen, Harry couldn’t help his face darkening.

Amidst the surging cheers, Harry vaguely heard someone calling his name, but his attention was suddenly captured by an unexpected flicker of movement below.

Narrowing his eyes, he peered down intently at the platform at the base of the stands. To his astonishment, he spotted a furry black shape crouched there – an enormous black shadow was poking its head out to look right up at him, and its front paws were waving madly.

Harry’s eyes twitched fiercely. He almost thought he was seeing things, but after rubbing his eyes, the shadow was still there, and was even clearer than before.

Excitement and relief surged through Harry washing away the dread that had been squeezing his heart. Without a second thought about the earlier indistinct voice and the orders to remain at his post, Harry turned and sprinted down the aisle.

The black shadow, realizing it had successfully caught Harry’s attention, opened its mouth in a grin, swished its tail, and withdrew its head out of sight.

A large dog scurried happily through the tunnel, running all the way outside the stadium. Seeing no one around, it stopped and turned to wait for the pursuing Harry.

“Sirius!”

Harry chased after him, panting. The huge temperature difference between inside and outside the stadium made him shiver, but he ignored it. Instead, he stared in surprise at the big black dog in front of him, almost as tall as himself.

“Sirius! I can’t believe it’s really you! What are you doing here? And why are you transformed where anyone could see you?”

In a shimmer of magic, the shaggy black fur seemed to melt away, and suddenly a beaming Sirius was standing before Harry in the flesh.

“Why, I came to watch the tournament, of course!” Sirius said, reaching out to clap a hand on Harry’s shoulder. He turned his head to peer cautiously back down the tunnel for a moment before continuing.

“Fudge has been getting a lot of leave applications lately. Everyone wants to go to Diagon Alley to watch the live broadcast. Oh, you probably don’t know yet. The goblins have set up a viewing area in Diagon Alley. For 20 Galleons, you can go in and watch the tournament live. Because of the flood of applications, I heard Fudge got so fed up he started chucking the latecomers’ requests straight in the rubbish bin without even reading ’em!”

Mischief sparkled in Sirius’ gray eyes as he tossed his long dark hair back from his face with a roar of laughter.

“So, I figured, why settle for watching the action secondhand in Diagon Alley with everyone else when I could come see it in person? I just fed ol’ Scrimgeour some poppycock about having an important mission, transformed, and secretly snuck out! Of course, I can’t show my face in front of Madam Bones, Barty, and Ludo, or my cover would be blown!”

The excitement on Sirius’ face was just like a young wizard who had successfully skipped class and Harry grinned too.

But the smile soon faded as Sirius leaned a shoulder against the red metal rod supporting the stands, his expression sobering. “But never mind my sneaking around – the Champions are really having to battle dragons, eh? Awfully big ask of a handful of teenagers, if you ask me. Is Hermione ready for this?”

“I wish I knew,” Harry admitted heavily, digging the toe of his trainer into the dirt. “I mean, we found out ahead of time thanks to Hagrid, so it’s not a complete shock. And we helped Hermione prepare as much as we could. But with something like this, there’s only so much you can do, y’know? And I don’t know if she’s had any time for extra practice this morning. Professor Watson sent us off to Hogsmeade Station first thing in the morning, so I didn’t even see her at breakfast… Did you spot her when you came in?”

“Actually,” Sirius said, his brow creasing thoughtfully, “when I was sneaking over here, I spotted a house-elf running over from that direction in a fluster. Maybe she’s over there. We can go take a look.”

Before Harry could reply, a thunderous roar suddenly exploded from inside the arena. A split second later, Ludo Bagman’s magically amplified voice boomed out from inside the arena.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the wait is over! The day you’ve all been anxiously awaiting has finally arrived! In mere moments, the first task of the Triwizard Tournament will begin! Now, put your hands together and show your support for our first brave champion… CEDRIC DIGGORY OF HOGWARTS!”

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