Ten minutes later, at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Harry finally understood the true reason behind Hagrid's extraordinary transformation into formal attire.
At this moment, Hagrid was strolling through patches of moonlight alongside Madame Maxime, whose figure stood a full head taller than even Hagrid's height.
If Harry was being completely honest, the scene could barely be classified as romantic though perhaps that was partly due to his own presence as an invisible third wheel trailing behind them under his Invisibility Cloak.
The pieces had fallen into place: Hagrid was clearly infatuated with the headmistress from Beauxbatons Academy. His nervous preparation, the formal attire, the hair oil, it all made perfect sense now.
But what could this…possibly have to do with the first task of the Triwizard Tournament?
Harry maintained a careful distance as he followed the two deeper into the forest. The guilt of spying on what was clearly intended to be a private moment troubled him, but his curiosity about the tournament information Hagrid had promised proved stronger than his conscience.
At least, he told himself with some relief, apart from their leisurely walk through the moonlit forest, Hagrid and Madame Maxime weren't engaging in any behavior that would make his presence truly uncomfortable.
Time seemed to stretch as they went farther from the castle's lights. The forest around them grew denser, filled with the subtle sounds of nocturnal creatures.
Finally, Hagrid led Madame Maxime through a particularly thick grove of oaks and into a dense thicket. Harry quickened his pace slightly, not wanting to lose sight of them in the maze of branches and shadows.
"This is..." Harry's whispered words died in his throat as he pushed through the vegetation and emerged into a clearing.
In front of him was an enormous cage surrounded by wooden fencing.
Within it were four massive dragons!
They were chained to enormous wooden stakes with heavy iron chains, yet remained restless, breathing flames that turned the night sky above the Forbidden Forest a fiery red.
Seven or eight wizards gathered around each dragon, their faces bearing the exhausted, soot-stained evidence of recent struggle. The ground around each dragon's position was blackened and scarred.
Harry's eyes automatically searched the gathered handlers for Adrian's figure, then remembered that he had seen his professor strolling through the castle courtyard with Gabrielle Delacour barely an hour ago.
This meant that these dragons were real, not products of Adrian's Transfiguration magic.
So... these dragons were the content of the first task?
Wait!
Could Professor Westeros have already known about the competition content in advance?
Harry could hardly believe it.
"Hello there, Hagrid! And Madame Maxime!"
Just then an energetic voice interrupted Harry's racing thoughts.
Charlie Weasley emerged from behind the nearest dragon, his familiar red hair darkened with sweat and his dragon-hide protective suit still releasing wisps of smoke.
He wiped his forehead with the back of one gloved hand, leaving a streak of soot across his brow. "We just finished transporting these magnificent creatures here from their native habitats. They're incredibly agitated by the relocation. We've had to administer triple doses of calming draught just to get them to this level of relative peace."
As Charlie spoke, his eyes swept the area behind Hagrid and Madame Maxime. For a heart-stopping moment, Harry felt certain he had been discovered despite his cloak. His breath caught in his throat, and he pressed himself more firmly against the rough bark of the tree that concealed him.
Fortunately, Charlie's gaze moved on after only a moment. Harry released his held breath in a slow, silent exhale and carefully repositioned himself deeper in the shadows.
"They're absolutely magnificent," Hagrid breathed contentedly. His earlier nervousness had vanished completely, replaced by the genuine wonder Without any apparent thought for his prepared romantic evening, he took several eager steps toward the nearest dragon, a Hungarian Horntail.
Harry watched with a mixture of amusement and secondhand embarrassment as Madame Maxime's eyebrows drew together in a frown of disapproval.
'That wasn't particularly gentlemanly behavior, Hagrid,' Harry thought with sympathy for both parties.
After this, Madame Maxime no longer paid attention to Hagrid and began wandering around the cages by herself.
Harry watched as she deliberately paused by each dragon, clearly observing them carefully.
Meanwhile, Hagrid seemed to have completely forgotten her existence. He remained absorbed by the dragons, occasionally engaging Charlie in discussions about their feeding habits, temperaments, and dragon handling.
His formal attire looked increasingly ridiculous in this setting, the arranged flower in his lapel wilted in the heat radiating from the nearest dragon.
Harry, still under his Invisibility Cloak, also quietly approached the fence.
He paused in front of one particular dragon, immediately recognizing the characteristics of a Norwegian Ridgeback. This dragon was particularly different from the one Adrian had conjured during their training sessions, the ridge of spines running along its back displayed a deeper, more vibrant coloration.
He couldn't help but think of the dragon Adrian had once kept, called Torch—that was a long time ago, when he had just learned he was a wizard.
Come to think of it, he had also cared for Torch for a while, but that was when it was very small. Once Torch grew larger than him, Remus no longer allowed him near it.
He wondered how Torch was doing now...
Crouching carefully by the fence, Harry strained to listen to the dragon tamers' ongoing conversations, hoping to collect additional useful intelligence.
"That Chinese Fireball there is probably our most dangerous specimen," one scar-faced wizard was explaining to his colleague, gesturing toward a dragon. "Puzzlingly, it's actually the most docile of the four in terms of temperament, but don't let that fool you. Its physical strength and the intensity of its flame production far exceed what you'd normally expect from the species."
"I honestly have no idea how it grew to such an extraordinary size," his companion replied, shaking his head in obvious bewilderment.
Harry absorbed this information while studying each dragon in turn. He had limited experience with real dragons, most of his knowledge came from Adrian's conjured version and theoretical study but even his unexperienced eye could recognize that these creatures possessed a power and presence that far exceeded the fake dragon Adrian had conjured.
Defeating creatures of this caliber would require more than simple spell-work and quick reflexes. It won't be easy.
After observing the dragons and their handlers for what felt like an appropriate amount of time, Harry decided he had gathered sufficient intelligence.
Hermione was undoubtedly still waiting anxiously in the common room. He couldn't stay out too long without causing her worry.
Besides, his primary objective had been accomplished: he now knew the nature of the tournament's first task. The knowledge that dragons were involved would allow him to begin proper preparation, even if the specific details remained unclear.
Though the fact that Madame Maxime had also obtained this intelligence meant his advantage would be limited at best.
Just as Harry was preparing to begin his journey back to the castle, a flicker of movement in his peripheral vision made him freeze.
Like himself, another figure was concealed behind one of the forest's trees, definitely not one of the official dragon handlers. This person stood motionless in the shadows, but when a portion of moonlight lit their position, Harry could make out a sharp, angular chin and goatee that he recognized immediately.
Igor Karkaroff, the headmaster of Durmstrang Institute, was conducting his own investigation.
"Of course," Harry thought with grim amusement. Not only had Madame Maxime come to gather intelligence for her champion, but Karkaroff was obviously doing the same for Krum. It seemed that on this night, everyone had their own business to attend to.
To avoid any potential complications and unwanted encounters with Karkaroff, who might be less understanding about Harry's presence than the dragon handlers would have been, Harry decided not to linger any longer. He carefully walked through the forest, moving as silently as possible until he was well clear of the dragon cage and its various hidden observers.
The journey back to Gryffindor Tower passed without incident, though Harry found his mind racing with plans and possibilities.
The Gryffindor common room lay in complete darkness when he arrived, the fire was reduced to barely glowing embers that provided only the faintest light.
But Hermione was there, standing alert near the portrait entrance like a guardian owl watching for his return. Her silhouette was clearly visible against the faint light from the dying fire.
The moment Harry became visible after removing his cloak, she rushed forward with obvious relief.
"How did it go?" She asked with urgency, her voice pitched low to avoid waking any students who might be sleeping in the dormitories above. "Did Hagrid actually have useful information?"
"Dragons," Harry replied simply, his single word carrying the weight of everything he had witnessed. After confirming that they were alone in the common room, he lowered his voice to match hers. "They've prepared four different species of dragon, each one easily as large as a small house."
"Dragons?" Hermione's voice rose slightly before she caught herself and dropped back to a whisper. "They actually expect you to fight fully grown dragons? That's not just dangerous – it's completely insane!"
"I agree completely," Harry nodded, sitting into one of the armchairs beside the dying fire. "Which is why I'm fairly certain the task won't involve direct combat. My guess is that we'll need to retrieve something from their vicinity probably dragon eggs, since I noticed they had brought clutches for each dragon. The challenge will be getting past the dragons without being incinerated in the process."
"That would still be extremely dangerous," Hermione said, sinking into the chair opposite him. "Even the most docile dragon species becomes violently protective when guarding eggs. They'll attack anything that comes close to their nests."
"Probably," Harry agreed. "But there's something else you should know. I wasn't the only one investigating tonight. Both Madame Maxime and Karkaroff were there, which means that by tomorrow, all the champions will know exactly what they're facing."
Hermione leaned back in her armchair and shook her head with a mixture of resignation and disapproval. "It seems that no one has any intention of following the tournament's rules. So much for fair competition."
Harry shrugged with the pragmatism. "As I mentioned before, there's no specific regulation in the tournament rules that prohibits champions from gathering advance intelligence about the tasks. If the organizers wanted complete secrecy, they should have been more careful about who they allowed near the preparation areas."
"Well, let's set aside the ethics of the situation for now," Hermione said, leaning forward. "The more important question is: do you have confidence in your ability to survive an encounter with a dragon? Because 'somewhat dangerous' doesn't begin to describe what you'll be facing."
"Absolutely," Harry replied with quiet certainty. "While dealing with dragons will certainly present challenges, you need to trust me on this, dragons will not pose a genuine threat to my life."
Hermione observed his face in the dim light, searching for the source of this remarkable confidence. She had no way of knowing about his training with Adrian.
What she could see, however, was the absolute certainty in his expression. And despite her logical concerns about the inherent dangers of dragon encounters, Harry's confidence was contagious.
If he believed he could face these creatures and survive, then perhaps, just perhaps, everything would work out as it should.
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