Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
A magical barrier slowly rose, enclosing the entire competition arena.
The transparent shield shimmered faintly with rippling light, making every young wizard present stare wide-eyed in amazement. Those from Muggle families were especially overwhelmed by the sheer mystery of it...
"This is… a barrier? I've only ever read about them. It takes at least three adult wizards working together to create and maintain even a small, stable barrier—not to mention one this massive!"
"...."
"In fact, every barrier has different functions. The one in front of us seems to obscure the outside view while leaving the environment unchanged. Or… maybe it only blocks magical attacks?"
Still analyzing, Hermione stretched out her hand. Rain pattered easily against her palm, proving that this enormous barrier covering the entire arena had no intention of shielding them from wind or weather.
'No… they must have done this to contain the Thunderbird…'
That realization flickered through Hermione's mind for only a second before Pansy cut in sharply, derailing her thoughts.
"Enough! This isn't the time for you to show off, Granger. Look! Draco and the others are coming out!"
"This is basic knowledge… Fine, fine—let me see where Draco is."
The moment the champions stepped onto the field, deafening cheers erupted around them. Notably, the Gryffindor section exploded into loud boos aimed squarely at Draco.
Rather than cheer Harry Potter on, they seemed far more invested in making sure Draco didn't look good…
While waiting for the champions to take their positions, the judging panel—several headmasters and Ministry officials—arrived at the scene.
But the atmosphere at the judges' table was… tense.
Madame Maxime, who held exceptionally high hopes for Fleur Delacour, turned toward Dumbledore beside her with a pointed remark.
"Albus, it appears relations between your houses are quite strained. I do hope it won't affect the performance of your school's champion."
"Heh, Mr. Malfoy is indeed a bit… special. But I have full confidence in my students," Dumbledore replied pleasantly, as though the entire matter were nothing more than childish squabbling.
"Special, is he? I've heard this Mr. Malfoy is… a Death Eater?"
"Speaking of which, we have one right here…"
"Why are you looking at me? I haven't—tch!"
At the sudden shift of attention, Igor Karkaroff scowled, waving a hand irritably as if to dismiss the accusation, clearly unwilling to entertain the topic.
Yet the Durmstrang Headmaster—whose eyes had twitched noticeably at the words "Death Eater"—subtly pulled back his arm and slid a glance toward Snape, as though trying to confirm something.
What he didn't know was that, just behind them, a rotating blue eye was gleaming with sharp awareness…
…
"Welcome to the first match of the Triwizard Tournament!!"
"WOO!!!"
A tidal wave of applause shattered the winter air like splintering glass. If Ludo Bagman hadn't amplified his voice with a Sonorus Charm, he might not have been able to keep the crowd under control at all...
"As you can see, our four brave Champions must retrieve the mission item from beneath the Thunderbird at the center of the arena! This item will also serve as the clue for the next task!"
As he explained, the spectators—looking down from the stands—could clearly see the four Champions positioned at each corner, as well as the conditions across the arena.
Every Champion had to use their wand to navigate the "battlefield" before facing the central boss… the Thunderbird!
"SKREEEEE!!!"
Whether by coincidence or eerie timing, the instant Bagman finished speaking, the Thunderbird—its entire body crackling with violent magic—let out a piercing cry. All the wizards instinctively clapped their hands over their ears.
The clangs of heavy iron chains and the darkening sky made it clear that the creature—kept within a restricted zone by thick metal restraints—was already on the verge of fury...
"It's awake!! That dangerous creature!"
"Is… is this really safe? It doesn't look friendly at all."
"It should be fine. If anything goes wrong, the professors will intervene."
The Thunderbird, terrifying no matter how one looked at it, stirred anxiety and fear in the young wizards. Many began shouting—half to vent, half to muster courage.
Meanwhile, Draco, standing in the eastern corner, focused on the center of the arena, as though trying to see through the artificial rocks to catch a glimpse of the final boss...
'Not airborne? Can't fly? They must've deliberately weakened its greatest advantage.'
He cast a quick look toward the sky. Seeing no Thunderbird, Draco's mind immediately made the connection.
"But… this thunderstorm is still troublesome."
At the entrance to his section, he watched the torrential rain that nearly blurred his vision and the lightning tearing across the sky. Such dreadful weather made him frown.
It wasn't that magic couldn't counter the elements—rather, this environment strengthened the Thunderbird.
Just like Lockhart's book described, a Thunderbird could manipulate storms and lightning, even using such forces to strike at its enemies...
...
As Draco surveyed the scene, the announcer's booming voice thundered across the arena.
"Now! Give the wildest cheers you can muster for our Triwizard Tournament champions!!"
"ROOOOAR!!"
"GOOO!!"
"Show those filthy Slytherins what we're made of!!"
"Hah! A half-blood beating a pureblood? Keep dreaming!!"
Mixed among scattered insults was far more applause and cheering—everyone waiting eagerly for the Champions to step forward.
The announcer drew a deep breath.
"First, from the northern corner, the Quidditch ace of Durmstrang Institute—Viktor~~~ Krum!!!"
BOOM!
Even though he wasn't a Hogwarts student, Viktor Krum's popularity as a star Seeker was undeniable. The screams alone proved it…
"Next, entering from the southern corner—Beauxbatons Academy's beautiful witch, Fleur~~~ Delacour!!!"
"I LOVE YOU, FLEUR!!!"
"LOOK OVER HERE!!"
As her graceful silhouette stepped out, the entire stadium erupted with hormone-fueled screams—much to the collective disdain of the girls in the audience.
If Viktor Krum drew cheers from Quidditch fans, Fleur's charm had single-handedly conquered every man in sight...
"Ahem… And from the eastern corner, the youngest Champion in the history of the Triwizard Tournament—representing Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry… Draco~~~ Malfoy!!"
Thud!
Rain splashed up, leaving dark stains along the hem of Draco's robes.
As he stepped forward, it became obvious: aside from the Slytherin snakes cheering him on, most eyes were filled with hostility, accompanied by a chorus of boos.
Compared to the previous two Champions, Draco's reception was undeniably harsher.
Anyone unfamiliar with the situation might have thought they were announcing a Roman slave being sent to fight a beast...
Even for someone like Draco—composed, mature, and even a former Quidditch FMVP—his heart couldn't help pounding with excitement.
"Suddenly, I'm feeling fired up."
His cloak swayed as he narrowed his eyes. At some point, his pale-grey irises had begun to shimmer faintly with golden light…
Rain was the romance of men.
The battlefield was where magic ran wild.
And a true king… was someone who could push forward even when facing impossible odds!
...
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