The next morning came with frost clinging to the castle windows and a sharp edge to the autumn air that spoke of winter's approaching trek across the Scottish Highlands.
Before Harry had even fully emerged from the haze of sleep, Hermione was already beside his four-poster bed, her bushy hair more disheveled than usual and her brown eyes bright with determined urgency.
"Up, up!" she ordered, pulling back his curtains. "We're going to the library first thing this morning to research everything we can possibly find about dealing with dragons."
Harry groaned and rubbed his eyes, the events of the previous night flooding back to him in vivid detail. The dragon enclosure, the heat from their flames, the information that in less than twenty-four hours he would be facing one of those magnificent, deadly creatures in front of hundreds of spectators.
"We must seize every available minute," Hermione continued as she practically dragged both Harry and a bleary-eyed Ron from their beds and toward the dormitory door. "The first task is tomorrow afternoon, and we're running extremely low on preparation time."
Although Harry maintained his confidence about the upcoming challenge – his training with Adrian had given him advantages that his friends couldn't fully understand, Hermione's determination to help him prepare more thoroughly was both touching and practical.
Extra backup plans were always valuable, especially when facing creatures that could incinerate a person with a single breath.
"Dragons are far more dangerous than your casual attitude shows, Harry," Ron said in a low, serious voice as they crossed the castle's corridors. His face was unusually serious, marked by concern for his safety.
"During Charlie's first year as a professional dragon handler in Romania, he came home for Christmas visits with fresh scars every single time. I'll never forget one holiday, his entire right arm was burned black from shoulder to fingertips. The skin looked like charcoal. Mum nearly fainted dead away when she saw it, and Dad had to help her to a chair."
Harry felt a chill that down his spine.
"I understand the risks, Ron. The Triwizard Tournament has a reputation for exactly this kind of danger, that's why it was discontinued for so many decades. Too many champions died or suffered permanent injuries."
"And all of this potential carnage is supposedly justified by the glory of being crowned champion," Hermione sighed with the exasperation of someone who found the entire concept morally questionable. "Why couldn't they design some intellectually challenging but physically safe competitions instead? Test magical theory, problem-solving abilities, ethical reasoning?"
"Well," Ron said quietly, glancing around to ensure they weren't overheard, "there is also the matter of a thousand Galleons in prize money."
Hermione's response was an eye roll, followed by her pushing open the doors of the library with perhaps more force than it was necessary.
They didn't have much preparation time, as they still had classes to attend today—though the professors didn't require Harry to attend.
They selected a table near one of the larger windows, where the natural light would be best for reading, and began their search on the library's collection of dragon-related texts.
Ron immediately pulled down "Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland," while Hermione gathered an armful of more academic volumes with titles like "Theoretical Approaches to Dragon Psychology" and "Historical Analysis of Human-Dragon Conflicts."
It was while they were settling into their research that Harry noticed a familiar figure hunched over a book in one of the library's more isolated corners.
Cedric was sitting alone at a small table with an expression of intense concentration. The book in front him had the title "Advanced Defensive Spells for Extreme Situations,".
Harry suddenly realized that among all the tournament champions, only Cedric remained ignorant of what awaited them tomorrow.
This was hardly a fair competition.
"Wait here for just a moment," Harry said to his friends, rising from his chair with sudden determination.
Cedric looked up sharply when Harry sat into the chair across from him, surprise flickering across his face before being replaced by a warm smile.
"Harry!" Cedric's voice was warm. "Are you here for research as well? Though I suppose that's a rather obvious question, given the circumstances."
Harry leaned forward and lowered his voice to a whisper. "About tomorrow's competition…. do you remember the training Professor Westeros had us do before?"
Cedric's expression shifted to puzzlement, though he matched Harry's quiet tone. "Of course I remember. What about it?"
"Tomorrow's competition involves real dragons," Harry said seriously.
While Harry and his friends were engaged in their research efforts, Adrian stood in front of the magnificent Beauxbatons carriage, his breath creating small clouds in the cold as he gazed up at the carriage pulled by twelve Abraxan winged horses.
Under the sunlight, the pale blue carriage exterior gleamed with a pearl-like luster, decked with complex golden patterns.
Golden steps extended from the carriage door to Adrian's feet.
"Please do come in, Professor Westeros!" Gabrielle Delacour's bright voice called from within the carriage as her head appeared in the doorway.
Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and she waved enthusiastically. "I've already spoken with Madame Maxime in advance, and she's graciously agreed to permit your visit to our carriage!"
"How very thoughtful of you, Gabrielle," Adrian replied with genuine warmth, carefully ascending the magical steps. "I'm honored by the invitation."
The moment he crossed the threshold, Adrian felt the subtle disorientation that always accompanied entering a space that had been magically expanded far beyond its apparent physical dimensions.
The Undetectable Extension Charm work here was some of the finest he had ever encountered, so seamless that it took his eyes several seconds to detect the revealing signs of spatial manipulation.
A refreshing breeze carrying the scent of spring flowers and something indefinably French, perhaps lavender mixed with vanilla and the faintest hint of sea air enveloped him immediately.
The temperature inside was perfectly regulated, neither too warm nor too cool, creating an atmosphere of continuous comfort that hinted at use of complicated climate control charms.
In front of him stretched an enormous entrance hall, magnificently decorated hall with gilded columns lining both sides. The floor was covered with Persian carpets so thick and soft that walking on them felt like moving across clouds. Above, three massive crystal chandeliers hung suspended, their countless sides casting colorful patterns across the walls and filling the space with gentle, warm light.
"Magnificent," Adrian breathed, genuinely awed by the demonstration of magical craftsmanship surrounding him.
Beauxbatons certainly had impressive capabilities.
Such a carriage couldn't be created simply with money, no matter how vast the amount.
"Isn't it wonderful?" Gabrielle spun in place happily. "Madame Maxime told me that this carriage contains over a hundred rooms! Can you imagine? If it weren't for the Triwizard Tournament bringing us to Hogwarts, I might never have known that Beauxbatons had such a marvel."
"It truly is impressive, Gabrielle," Adrian said with sincere admiration. "This is undoubtedly the most magnificent traveling residence I've ever had the privilege to see."
The praise caused Gabrielle giggled happily, looking extremely pleased.
She led him through a corridor lined with portraits.
Their destination was a small but exquisite parlor that could have been transported directly from a luxury hotel in Paris. The walls were hung with paintings that seemed to shift between different artistic styles as Adrian watched, now impressionist, now classical, now something completely modern that he couldn't identify.
A tea service occupied a small table, the teapot maintaining a perfect temperature through some charm that caused it to steam gently but never boil over. In one corner, a golden piano played soft melodies completely on its own, its keys depressing in complex patterns despite the absence of any visible pianist.
"Please, make yourself comfortable," Gabrielle said with the formal politeness that had clearly been drilled into her since birth, though her natural innocent warmth made the courtesy seem genuine rather than rehearsed. "Professor Hill and my sister should join us very shortly."
Adrian say into a sofa that seemed to mold itself perfectly to his body, providing exactly the right amount of support while remaining luxuriously soft.
The automatically brewed tea was excellent, a blend that seem to carry traces of bergamot and something floral he couldn't immediately identify.
Besides Dumbledore, he was quite possibly the first Hogwarts professor ever invited to tour the Beauxbatons carriage.
As for why he was invited?
That was naturally because of Gabrielle.
Adrian was quite fond of children particularly who were less than 5year old, later they lose their cuteness and even become bratty but Gabrielle was quite different.
At first, Gabrielle hadn't been particularly trusting of him, but through this period of interaction with Ruskin, Gabrielle could see that he was close friends with her sister's Professor and had a good nature.
Of course, he had paid some price for visiting this carriage, such as certain intelligence about the competition.
Though this child in front of him was only single digits in age, she was very clever and was quietly trying to help her sister.
He glanced at Gabrielle as she sipped grape juice from a crystal glass, her legs swinging freely from her chair. Clearly, she was much more relaxed inside the carriage.
Shortly, the sound of approaching footsteps indicated the arrival of Madame Maxime and Fleur. Madame Maxime emerged from a side corridor, and Adrian immediately noticed the dark circles beneath her eyes that spoke of recent sleepless nights.
The dragon reconnaissance mission, no doubt, combined with the stress of managing her school's participation in such a dangerous competition.
As for Fleur, she was clearly startled when she saw Adrian, obviously surprised by this unexpected visit.
"Welcome, Professor Westeros," Madame Maxime said with a gracious nod. "Gabrielle has been speaking of inviting you to visit our carriage for some time now, and I'm delighted to have a distinguished Hogwarts professor as our guest."
Adrian rose respectfully, offering a slight bow. "The honor is entirely mine, Madame Maxime. The Beauxbatons carriage exceeds even the most beautiful descriptions I've heard."
The compliment brought a genuinely pleased smile to Madame Maxime's features. Like most people who took pride in their work and their institution, she appreciated recognition from someone qualified to judge such things.
Fleur stood at her side, her silver hair changing colors in the light filtering through the stained glass windows, looking at Adrian with an assessing gaze.
"Professor Hill will show you around our carriage later," Madame Maxime continued. "She's currently attending to the Abraxan horses but I think she'll finish her duties soon."
"I look forward to it," Adrian replied with sincere gratitude.
At the same time, beneath his robes, the Devil's Snare stirred slightly—it still sensed no abnormal conditions or dark magic aura from Madame Maxime.
It seemed the possibility of Madame Maxime tampering with the Goblet of Fire was very low.
Then...
Indeed, Karkaroff was still the most suspicious person currently at Hogwarts.
Adrian narrowed his eyes, as the face of that lecherous man with the goatee floated into his mind.
The sound of footsteps and a door opening signaled the arrival of Ruskin. She entered the parlor carrying the obvious aroma of high-quality whiskey, her appearance showing signs of recent physical work.
As Madame Maxime had said, she had just been feeding those Abraxan horses. Those particular horses only drank pure malt whiskey.
According to Adrian's understanding of magical creature behavior, Abraxan horses were typically herbivorous and weren't picky eaters.
The Beauxbatons ones had clearly been pampered to an extraordinary degree, developing tastes that would bankrupt most wizarding families.
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