On the judges' platform.
"Dragon fire formed from Fiendfyre… a mimicry? Albus, this student of yours never stops surprising us."
Madame Maxime frowned as she looked up at the sky smothered in Fiendfyre. She rubbed her throbbing temples with her enormous hand, her wand already in her grip.
Whether it was this unexpected development or the heart-stopping danger Fleur had just been through—as turbulent as a roller coaster—it made the magic pressure around the half-giant witch rise and fall chaotically.
That was why she tossed a sharp remark at Dumbledore.
Of course, perhaps there was also that strange, unwelcome feeling… as if her little white rabbit were about to be carried off by a big bad wolf...
"..."
Dumbledore didn't answer her right away.
If anyone had glanced at Dumbledore's face just then, they would have noticed that the gentle smile he'd worn since the start of the competition had vanished long ago.
More precisely, the lower half of his face was hidden behind his interlaced fingers, impossible to see clearly. And the calm eyes behind his half-moon spectacles lent him an even deeper, unreadable air.
Dumbledore clearly had a plan in mind...
No one could guess what he was thinking—not even Minerva McGonagall, who had worked beside him for years. Perhaps only Severus Snape might have had an inkling.
Just as Madame Maxime opened her mouth to speak again, Dumbledore—silent until now—suddenly rose to his feet, startling everyone nearby.
"I believe Severus could use a bit of help. I'll leave things here to you, Minerva."
"Eh? But…"
"Don't worry, Minerva. Everything is under control. I promise nothing will happen."
"...All right. I understand."
He might be old, but that didn't mean his eyes were too dim to see what was happening on the field.
A heartbeat before he turned to leave, almost no one noticed Dumbledore's glance shift toward the spot where the task's target was supposed to be.
There stood Harry Potter, his Disillusionment Charm dispelled, his figure now visible.
And Viktor Krum—leaning in, saying something quietly to Harry Potter...
...
Even Fiendfyre cast by an ordinary wizard could become disastrous with just a single spark.
Because it burned everything in its path.
The torrential rain had originally been the ideal environment the Thunderbird created for itself.
But now, the very rain that should have dampened the flames and calmed it instead seemed to fuel the Fiendfyre Flame Dragon, helping it grow at a chilling, explosive pace...
The spiraling serpent of flame and its silent, gaping roar made every wizard swallow hard.
The young wizards couldn't help staring at the figure on the field, a tyrant wrapped in fire. A sudden thought struck them:
Was that really their classmate?
What kind of joke was this...
Unbothered by the shockwaves his actions were causing, Draco focused only on the Fiendfyre Curse in his hands. "Is this the limit?"
Feeling his magic drain like a rushing tide, Draco understood that this spell could never be used as a regular weapon.
Simply put, it was only suitable as a finishing move, because its consumption far surpassed anything reasonable. In fact, once the Fiendfyre reached this scale, it was no longer something an ordinary wizard could control. The moment the magic feeding it faltered, it would immediately slip free and turn on the wizard who summoned it...
"A bit flashy, but it is my first time doing this."
"First time?!"
Though Fleur suspected Draco had misunderstood the meaning of "flashy," what truly startled her was that this shape-shifting Fiendfyre was actually his first attempt.
Draco, seemingly unaware of the strangeness in her tone, tried guiding the Fiendfyre before him. "Ah, well, to be precise… I've never made it this… big."
"...."
Following Draco's gaze, she looked up at the flames that nearly blotted out the entire sky.
Fleur's small head bobbed in a dazed nod.
Yes… it was very big.
...
If ordinary, uncontrolled Fiendfyre was a soldier recklessly charging forward, then Draco—who could shape and command it—was the general it obeyed.
"Screech!"
The Thunderbird, which possessed a degree of intelligence, now found fear flickering in its own eyes—an almost human kind of fear.
Weaknesses aside, even brushing against that fire might mean being swallowed whole within a heartbeat. Instinct and reality alike warned it:
Do not touch that flame.
Not even a little.
So when the Fiendfyre surged toward it, the once-confident Thunderbird instantly climbed high into the sky, watching the blaze below with sharp caution.
In truth, if not for the magic barrier around the arena, it would have fled the moment this fire appeared...
"I knew this was a Dark Magic, but seeing it up close… it's terrifying. But it can even control temperature?"
Standing at the center of the battlefield, Fleur was the wizard most qualified to comment.
She'd also noticed something about the Fiendfyre Curse.
The air around them shimmered with heat distortion, yet standing behind Draco, she didn't feel even the slightest burn. The grass beneath their feet was still green and full of life.
Compared to the charred, crystallized landscape around them, it felt like they were in a separate world.
"If that's the case, this spell is basically both offense and defense in one. Maybe I could learn it too?"
Fleur murmured to herself, completely missing the strained look on Draco's face.
There was no such thing as an invincible spell.
To wield Fiendfyre at this level required not only magical reserves far beyond those of ordinary wizards, but also extraordinary control. Only with both could someone create the sight before them.
And though it sounded simple, few wizards could ever achieve it.
Unaware of the bright, eager eyes fixed on him from behind, Draco kept all his attention on the Thunderbird circling above.
At the rate his magic was draining, he needed to end this quickly...
"Now it's my turn!"
Wings unfurled—wings made of pure flame.
Fangs bared—the dragon's fiery jaws slowly opening.
Behind them stood Draco, his body seeming to wear armor of fire, golden light burning in his eyes.
In his hand, his wand rose like a knight lifting his blade...
BOOM!
A charge.
A dragon's roar.
A breath of fire.
This was a Crimson Dragon Knight...