Dumbledore, having received a notice from the Ministry of Magic, temporarily left for London, and before his departure, he entrusted the task of presiding over the duels to Professor McGonagall.
Lunch in the Great Hall concluded amidst a mix of excitement and anticipation.
Before the aroma of honey-roasted ham and the sweetness of pumpkin juice had completely dissipated, the young wizards eagerly surged back toward the dueling arena, the air filled with a festive restlessness.
The stands quickly filled, the atmosphere even more enthusiastic than in the morning.
After the thrilling duels and the inter-school exchanges during lunch, the students seemed more relaxed.
Many held treacle tarts and chocolate puddings pilfered from the Great Hall, or Butterbeer "amicably negotiated" from the Hogwarts house-elves.
Just then, two figures in wizard robes with fiery red hair weaved through the aisles of the stands like nimble fish.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Don't miss out!"
Fred Weasley bellowed, his voice loud enough to cut through the noisy crowd.
"Weasley Twins proudly present duel-watching snacks!"
George Weasley, seizing the opportunity, held up a tray filled with colorful vials and oddly shaped snacks.
"Refreshing 'Dragon's Breath Peppermints,' guaranteed to make your eyesight sharper than Krum's—only three Sickles!"
"Waterproof, damp-proof, and boredom-proof 'Rainbow Popcorn!' Watch the match come rain or shine—large bag for five Sickles!"
"And our exclusive 'Instant Class-Skipping Sweets – Duel-Watching Edition!' Guaranteed to let you slip away smoothly when you're bored... uh, I mean, when you need to step out briefly! Only seven Sickles—limited stock, so hurry!"
The twins' shouts drew laughter, but their business was brisk.
Many students couldn't resist the temptation and eagerly paid, and soon the stands were filled with the strange, sweet scents of all kinds of magical candies.
Only the Duel-Watching Edition of the Instant Class-Skipping Sweets didn't sell a single one—because watching a match wasn't class. And as long as it wasn't class, young wizards were enthusiastic about everything.
Just as the top three contestants were preparing to enter, and the audience munched on snacks with eager anticipation, the sky unexpectedly darkened.
Several heavy clouds, as if forcibly dragged in by an invisible hand, quickly gathered over the dueling arena.
Moments later, cold raindrops began pelting the roof of the stands and the faces of the front-row spectators.
"Oh no!" someone wailed.
"My new robes!" some girls cried out.
"Damn it, 'Rainbow Popcorn' can't actually withstand a downpour!" George's face twisted in dismay as he looked at the dampening product packaging.
"Don't worry, old chap," Fred said, clumsily applying a Waterproof Charm to the tray, a mischievous grin on his face. "The instructions don't say it's storm-proof, and our verbal claim of 'rain or shine'... that's just artistic exaggeration, you know? Legally, it's not a fake or shoddy product!"
"Merlin help you convince Madam Pomfrey with that twisted logic—if anyone gets an upset stomach from eating soggy popcorn," George grumbled, beginning to cast spells.
Complaints rose one after another.
The rain gradually intensified, turning from scattered drops into a torrential downpour. Cold rainwater poured down, pounding the protective shield and the roofs of the stands with loud splashes.
Small puddles quickly formed in the center of the arena. Fleur frowned slightly, brushing droplets from her shoulder. Krum remained expressionless, though a flicker of displeasure passed through his eyes. Cedric, however, was thoroughly soaked, wiping his face vigorously as rain dripped continuously from his chin.
The audience descended into chaos—students huddled up, shrinking their necks, using their robes as makeshift umbrellas or squeezing toward the back rows. Snack wrappers were soaked and crumpled, littering the stands.
The twins cursed the awful weather for ruining their business as they frantically cast Waterproof Charms over their goods.
At this time of year, the thick ice on the Black Lake had only recently melted, and the air still carried a chill.
As the wind swept across the dueling arena, many drenched young wizards began to shiver, arms wrapped tightly around themselves.
"Quiet! Quiet!"
Professor McGonagall's stern voice, amplified by a Sonorus Charm, rang out as she tried to maintain order—but even she seemed somewhat powerless against the roar of the downpour and the restless crowd.
It was amidst this chaos and widespread complaints that Sagres finally set down his teacup.
He didn't stand up; he simply drew his wand from an inner pocket of his robes and casually pointed it into the air toward the noisy audience.
"Silence."
A clear, steady voice instantly swept across the arena, cutting off all sound.
The crowd fell into a dead silence. Some students were still mid-sentence, their mouths opening and closing, but no sound came out—those opposite them could only watch in confusion as their words vanished into thin air.
The only sound that remained in the entire dueling arena was the relentless, oppressive noise of the rain battering every surface.
Sagres slowly lifted his head, his deep gaze piercing the heavy curtain of rain, locking onto the churning heart of the storm above.
There was no thunderous incantation, no dramatic flick of the wand.
He simply raised it lazily upward at an angle, and a shimmer of spell-light shot into the sky.
In the next moment, a surge of powerful magical energy rippled through the clouds like a stone cast into still water.
Then, a miracle happened.
The leaden storm clouds were suddenly swept away in all directions, as if brushed aside by an invisible giant hand.
Even the torrential rain seemed to pause—the downpour halted mid-air, and the falling droplets vanished before they could reach the ground.
The arena and stands, glistening from the rain, were once again bathed in warm, bright sunlight. The damp air felt as if it had been wrung dry by an invisible hand, instantly turning fresh and comfortable, carrying even a faint scent of rain-kissed grass.
The entire transformation happened astonishingly fast—from torrential downpour to clear skies and sunshine, it had taken only a few seconds.
Everyone stared blankly at the brilliant blue sky above, then instinctively looked down at their now-dry robes and the dry ground beneath their feet, as if the rain moments ago had been nothing more than a shared illusion.
Then, after a beat of stunned silence, the crowd erupted into thunderous applause and cheers—louder and more enthusiastic than ever before.
"Merlin's underpants!"
"How did he do that?!"
"Was that a Weather Charm?! That was a Weather Charm, right?!"
"Professor Greengrass! That was incredible!"
The students screamed with excitement, their gazes filled with unrestrained awe and admiration as they looked toward Sagres.
Even the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students had begun whispering among themselves; some of the Beauxbatons girls, only now realizing it, murmured that this Professor Greengrass was clearly capable of more than just Transfiguration.
"Silence!"
Sagres repeated, his calm voice once again spreading clearly throughout the arena. This time, however, he didn't use a spell—he simply swept his gaze over the entire crowd.
At the same time, he muttered under his breath, Let the match start soon, there's a Bronze Feather gathering tonight…
After silencing the noisy young Wizards with nothing more than a look, Sagres put away his wand, his expression as composed and unreadable as ever.
He didn't acknowledge the audience's reaction, only giving a slight nod to Professor McGonagall, who still looked somewhat stunned.
"Please continue, Professor McGonagall."
Professor McGonagall pressed her lips together and nodded, quickly regaining her usual stern demeanor. She glanced at the wide-eyed students, then simply said dryly, "The weather's nice. Let the match begin."
As soon as she spoke, the names Fleur and Krum appeared on the stone tablet, and the two stepped onto the stage to the sound of renewed applause and cheers.
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