Chapter 26: Chapter 26: Explanations and Evaluations

Even though Arthur hadn’t even broken a sweat during the task, Professor McGonagall still marched him toward the first aid tent. Rules were rules apparently, even for champions who’d basically just gone for a casual stroll past a dragon.

“Mr. Hayes,” McGonagall said as they walked, her Scottish accent stronger than usual, “I must say, in all my years at Hogwarts, I have never witnessed such a… peculiar series of events. Strolling through an enclosure with a dragon—a Horntail, no less!”

“Was simple and fun, though,” Arthur replied with a shrug.

“Indeed.” She pursed her lips, torn between professional restraint and obvious curiosity. “Would you care to explain how you managed it? Because unless my eyes deceived me, that dragon acted as though you were completely invisible. And Confundus Charms are hardly that effective against magical creatures.”

Arthur gave her a faint smile. “If it’s all the same to you, Professor, I’d rather explain just once in front of the judges. Repeating myself gets rather tedious.”

Professor Moody, who’d clunked up beside them on his wooden leg, let out a rough laugh. “Smart lad. Always save your energy.” His magical eye spun around crazily before fixing on Arthur. “Though I too would be bloody interested to know what kind of magic lets a seventh-year just walk past a Hungarian Horntail like it’s not even there.”

“I believe Mr. Hayes has made his preference clear,” Snape said, appearing out of nowhere like he always did. “He wishes to… maximize the audience for his inevitable display of intellectual superiority.”

Arthur didn’t say anything back, but he couldn’t help a tiny smile. Snape knew him well enough by now to know when Arthur was enjoying knowing stuff that nobody else did.

The Potions Master swept away with his robes billowing out behind him, obviously deciding he wasn’t going to give Arthur the satisfaction of seeming interested.

Inside the medical tent, Madam Pomfrey was rushing around Fleur, putting some thick orange goop on a nasty burn on her arm. Harry and Krum were nowhere to be seen. Probably back in the champions tent, since they weren’t hurt.

“The next victim? What is it now? Burns? Cuts? Broken bones?” Madam Pomfrey turned, her exasperated expression shifting to surprise as she spotted Arthur. “Hayes? Well, I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked. If anyone was going to show up unscathed, it’d be you.”

“Hullo, Madam Pomfrey,” Arthur greeted her with more warmth than he typically showed most staff members. “Lovely day for a stroll past a dragon, wouldn’t you say?”

The matron snorted, though her eyes crinkled with reluctant amusement. “Stroll, is it? The way people are talking outside, you might as well have stopped to have tea with the beast.”

“Didn’t want to impose. Dragons are notoriously poor hosts. Terrible table manners.”

Pomfrey shook her head as she approached him. “Arms up. Let me check you over.”

Arthur obliged, familiar with her examination routine after countless visits to the hospital wing following “incidents” with other students over the years.

“No singed robes,” she muttered, circling him. “No burns, no scratches, not even elevated heart rate.” She stopped in front of him, hands on hips. “You know, Hayes, when they told me they were bringing dragons to Hogwarts, I stocked enough burn paste to treat half of London. I figured you’d at least give me something to do.”

“Sorry to disappoint. Next time I’ll try to catch fire a bit, shall I? Just to keep your skills sharp.”

“Cheeky,” she remarked, but without heat. “You’re the only student I know who treats trips to the hospital wing like social calls.”

“What can I say? The conversation’s better in the hospital wing than in the Slytherin common room.”

She checked his pulse with practiced efficiency. “Well everything looks normal. Too normal. Are you quite sure you didn’t just Apparate past it? Though Merlin knows how you’d bypass the wards…”

“Just clever application of magic, Madam,” Arthur replied evasively. “Perhaps those healing primers you lent me last term sharpened my understanding of avoiding injury altogether?”

She snorted, though a flicker of amusement softened her stern expression. Arthur had indeed spent loads of time discussing advanced healing theory with her, often asking questions way beyond the NEWT curriculum. She was one of the few staff members Arthur genuinely respected, appreciating her no-nonsense attitude and deep knowledge.

“Hmph. Clever magic or sheer dumb luck,” she conceded, finally satisfied he wasn’t hiding some internal injury. “Well, you look perfectly fine. Not even a smudge. Honestly, you spend more time in my infirmary after fights with your housemates than after facing a nesting Hungarian Horntail. Off you go then, before the judges think you’ve scarpered with their precious egg.”

“Thank you, Madam Pomfrey,” Arthur said with genuine warmth before turning to leave. Snape was waiting by the tent flap, his expression impatient.

“The judges await,” Snape said curtly, turning on his heel.

Arthur fell into step beside him, noticing how the Potions Master’s pace was just slightly too fast for comfort—a subtle power play that Arthur found more amusing than intimidating.

“Not going to ask how I did it, Professor?” Arthur inquired lightly.

“I have little interest in juvenile showing off, Hayes. Though I will admit that whatever you did appeared to have been… effective.” Snape’s eyes flicked briefly toward him. “And evidently beyond the capabilities of most wizards your age.”

“Most wizards any age, I’d wager.”

“Your modesty continues to astound,” Snape replied dryly.

As they approached the raised platform where the five judges sat, Barty Crouch Sr. leaned forward impatiently.

“Severus, what are you doing here alone?” Crouch asked sharply. “Where is Mr. Hayes? Go back and fetch him. We need to score him and bring an end to the first task.”

Snape stopped, turning slowly towards Crouch with an expression of utter disdain. “What on earth are you talking about, Barty? Mr. Hayes is standing right beside me.”

The judges peered past Snape. Madame Maxime frowned. “Is zis some British humour I am not understanding? I see no one, Severus.”

“Yes, hurry up,” Karkaroff snapped. “I want to know how Hogwarts cheated and helped its champion in the task.”

Snape turned slowly toward Arthur, suspicion dawning on his face. “Did you do something, Hayes?”

Before Arthur could respond, Dumbledore chuckled softly, his blue eyes twinkling as they fixed on the empty space beside Snape. “Quite a marvellous feat, Mr. Hayes. Such a powerful illusion. Is that what you employed within the enclosure as well? Rather brilliant.”

Arthur could tell his magic wasn’t working on Dumbledore’s formidable senses—no surprise, really. With a resigned sigh, he snapped his fingers, and instantly the other judges startled as he seemingly materialized beside Snape.

Yeah, he had used illusion magic to trick the dragon. Drawing on techniques used by one of the most powerful mages in the universe, Loki, The God of Mischief, Arthur had experimented with illusion magic and gotten pretty good at it. Not as good as Loki but good enough to trick most people.

“Good evening, everyone,” Arthur said, enjoying their shocked expressions. “Having a good day? Mine, thus far, has been quite stimulating.”

Bagman recovered first, his boyish face lighting up with delight. “What incredible magic, Mr. Hayes! You fooled everyone! Never seen anything like it!”

“Yes, powerful illusion,” Madame Maxime agreed, studying Arthur with new interest. “But surely zat alone would not be enough to fool ze senses of a Horntail?”

“Correct, Madame,” Arthur confirmed. “The primary illusion targeted the dragon’s visual spectrum, rendering me effectively invisible to it. Eyes are their weaknesses after all. However, I also used secondary charms to mask my scent, suppress any sounds of movement, and nullify my body heat signature. A few backup spells were layered in just in case. One mistake and I would have been dragon barbecue.”

Dumbledore nodded approvingly. “You have clearly done your research and prepared meticulously, Mr. Hayes. Excellent work. Now, shall we proceed to the scoring?”

Madame Maxime raised her wand first. A long silver ribbon shot out of it, forming the number nine.

“Only a nine?” Bagman whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear. “But he didn’t get hurt at all!”

Next came Crouch, also giving a nine. Arthur suspected they found his performance too subtle, lacking the dramatic flair most wizards seemed to expect.

Dumbledore smiled as he raised his wand, shooting out a perfect ten.

Bagman, beaming, also gave a ten. He clearly appreciated the unexpectedness of Arthur’s approach.

Finally, Karkaroff scowled before reluctantly raising his wand. A six shot out from it.

“Forty-four points total,” Dumbledore announced. “Well done indeed, Mr. Hayes.”

As they walked back toward the champions’ tent, Snape spoke in a low voice. “Congratulations. You’re in first place. You did not embarrass Slytherin House.”

“Above Potter?” Arthur asked, mildly curious.

“Yes. Potter and Krum tied for second with forty points each. The Beauxbatons girl is last with thirty-two.”

“Interesting.” Arthur wasn’t particularly bothered about the scores—the competition itself held little real value to him—but that didn’t mean he wanted to come second to anyone.

When they reached the champions’ tent, the other three were already inside, waiting. They looked up as Arthur entered, their expressions ranging from frustration to grudging respect.

“You were bloody brilliant, Arthur!” Harry exclaimed as Arthur entered, forgetting his earlier nervousness. “Absolutely brilliant! How did you do that? Hermione’s been trying to figure it out, but she’s completely clueless!”

“Magic, Potter,” Arthur replied with a slight smile. “Just magic. You did well yourself. I might be better than you at most things, but I reckon in a race on broomsticks, you might actually give me a run for my galleons.”

“Well done, all of you!” Bagman announced, bouncing into the tent with the energy of someone half his age. “Now, just a quick few words. You’ve got a nice long break before the second task, which will take place at half past nine on the morning of February the twenty-fourth—but we’re giving you something to think about in the meantime!”

He gestured toward the golden eggs they’d collected. “If you look at those golden eggs you’re all holding, you will see that they open… see the hinges there? You need to solve the clue inside the egg—because it will tell you what the second task is, and enable you to prepare for it! All clear? Sure? Well, off you go, then!”

Arthur immediately made for the exit, having no desire to stick around for post-task socializing. He could see a silhouette outside the tent and from the looks of it, it was Skeeter. Muttering a silent disillusionment charm, Arthur made himself invisible and slipped out of the tent just as Skeeter zeroed in.

He saw her trying to corner Harry, her Quick-Quotes Quill hovering eagerly. But Harry, perhaps feeling brave after his success or simply fed up, spat out a sharp “Bugger off!” and practically sprinted away, leaving Skeeter momentarily stunned. Arthur smirked as he walked away unseen. Maybe Potter was learning after all.

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