Unlike Harry Potter's strategy of avoiding every enemy along the way, Draco might as well have been bulldozing straight toward the mission site. Because of that, the "battle" on Draco's side was far more spectacular and entertaining—though for most wizards, it was definitely not the kind of development they wanted to witness...
"Is that dark magic?!"
"Are you joking? Did you see that? One strike! He took down that massive troll with a single blow!"
"And not just that. Did you notice? Every enemy that attacked him along the way was taken out effortlessly..."
Word spread that Draco had defeated a giant.
Word spread that Draco had taken down a basilisk.
Word spread that Draco possessed power far beyond that of ordinary wizards.
In just four short years, rumors about Draco had become more than a few. Before today, since no one had seen it with their own eyes, these stories had left most wizards doubtful. They all came from the same school—how could the gap possibly be that overwhelming?
Not until today did they finally understand...
A genius—no, what a real monster truly looks like.
"Everyone's been scared stiff by Draco."
"Hmph! Now they finally see who the real clueless one is."
The atmosphere abruptly went silent. Seeing those wizards who had provoked Draco now turning pale, Pansy and Hermione pumped their tiny fists in satisfaction, as if finally venting all the frustration of the past few days.
But the very next moment, they seemed to notice something, and both their expressions darkened as they glared toward a certain someone on the field...
...
"Compared to my situation, the others seem to be making far less noise."
Watching the merpeople retreat back into the lake, Draco muttered to himself as he glanced toward where the other champions were positioned. Unlike the Troll-like beings with no intelligence, these merpeople were far more intelligent. Realizing Draco was simply too dangerous, they had withdrawn straight into the lake...
Dangerous creatures, a labyrinthine and treacherous environment, plus the Thunderbird guarding the task site—this was the first match of the Triwizard Tournament.
Beneath Draco's seemingly brute actions lay a calculated decision, not merely to silence those who doubted him. It was a demonstration, a test. A demonstration of his potential to the wizarding world, and a test of certain wizards' attitudes.
'This should suffice.'
Through the rain curtain, he could almost see the eyes watching from the judges' stand. At this, Draco's eyes flickered. Though risky, what he stood to gain afterward was far greater.
Just then, Draco, who had been deep in thought, suddenly drew his wand and halted.
"Are you serious?"
Though there was nothing in that direction, Draco uttered this seemingly nonsensical line, his wand pointing resolutely into the depths of the rain, as if certain someone was there...
Rustle, rustle, rustle~
The sound of robes dragging across the grass gave way to a figure that shouldn't have been there.
It was Fleur Delacour, looking somewhat disheveled but unharmed.
Facing Draco's question and wand, Fleur didn't pause. As she drew nearer, Draco could make out the faint specks of mud on her small face, and upon closer inspection, the subtle hint of grievance in her expression.
In short, Fleur Delacour, who had inexplicably appeared before him, looked like a small fox… or perhaps a tiger… that someone had thoroughly provoked.
...
There was a reason Fleur was so furious.
Not long ago...
Mastery of magic and its application are not necessarily the same thing. Simply put, it's the difference between theory and practice.
Though Fleur had cast a beautiful Transfiguration Spell with apparent ease, it actually exposed her lack of experience and her poor ability to adapt on the fly. While that spell might earn her a decent grade on an exam, it proved unwise in this competition.
Compared to Draco's Wind and Rain Charm, which anyone could use effectively, the rose-patterned umbrella made Fleur's movements and reactions cumbersome under heavy rain and constant attacks.
Only after the fact did Fleur belatedly realize that holding an umbrella in this environment made her look just as foolish as the Troll she had charmed moments earlier.
Upon this realization, Fleur promptly shifted the blame for her mistake onto a certain jerk...
"We had an agreement! That arrogant jerk actually—"
"This way, right? I won't let you off the hook!"
Though she never truly believed Draco would honor a mere verbal agreement, for some reason she still wanted to confront him. With a cold expression on her small face, she marched straight toward the source of the commotion on the field, completely forgetting the actual objective of the match.
Notably, the steady stream of commentary provided Fleur with endless intel, allowing her to pinpoint that jerk's exact location.
Finally, fortune favors the bold—Fleur arrived before Draco.
This moment left all spectators puzzled and eager, while Pansy and Hermione turned beet-red. What was this woman planning to do to Draco? Surely she wasn't going to start a fight?
...
Time rewinds to the present moment.
"Are you serious?"
"Asking that question proves you haven't forgotten our earlier agreement! Didn't we agree to cooperate, you big liar!"
Refusing to show impatience in front of Draco, Fleur responded in a sarcastic tone.
"...."
Draco merely twitched his lips, speechless. Fleur herself seemed completely unaware that her disheveled appearance held not a shred of imposing presence. In his eyes, this Beauxbatons champion looked rather pitiful, like a fool fallen on hard times yet stubbornly refusing to show weakness.
Moreover...
"I don't recall agreeing to this, did I?"
"...Huh?"
Staring blankly at Draco, who waved her off with his back turned, Fleur looked dazed.
Did I?
Didn't I?
Her head spinning, Fleur bit her lip and stomped her foot before chasing after him. She didn't know why she was doing it, but her intuition screamed: do not get too far away from this guy...
At that instant, the surrounding forest erupted in startled commotion, followed by a piercing, furious shriek.
"Squeak!!"
Clang!
And then, the shrill, bone-chilling snap of a chain breaking...
Was this an accident?
...
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