"Harry! Has anyone seen Harry?"
Ron Weasley's shout made the surrounding young Lions freeze for a moment before they scrambled to search the field.
Of course, they were destined to find nothing...
"He really isn't out there!"
"Could he have been burned up by the Fiendfyre?"
"No way…"
"Then how else do you explain it?"
With their guesses growing darker by the second, Ginny Weasley looked anxiously at her brothers.
But what she saw on Fred and George's faces—tight, grim, and worried—made her stomach sink. They were clearly thinking the same dreadful thing: Harry Potter might really be gone...
"Fiendfyre… it was deliberate. He did it on purpose!!"
Unable to accept the terrifying possibility, Ginny's voice cracked as she screamed toward the field, fury blazing in her eyes. And when those eyes fixed on Draco Malfoy, everyone understood exactly who "he" was.
But was it really deliberate?
Anyone thinking clearly would deny it at once.
Then again… Gryffindors were not known for staying calm when emotions surged.
Driven by indignation and their long-standing hostility toward Slytherin, the Gryffindor students burst into hushed arguments. Unlike before, after witnessing Draco's terrifying power, none dared speak recklessly. They whispered instead, cautious and subdued.
And the moment Draco's gaze swept their way, every single one of them snapped their eyes elsewhere, avoiding him in perfect sync.
Slytherins watched the display with cold smirks, a ripple of admiration running through them for the figure still standing on the field.
Only the strong are worthy of Slytherin loyalty...
...
With the flames rising and Draco's blinding display commanding attention, Harry Potter—on the opposite side of the arena—had simply slipped from everyone's awareness halfway through the task.
Adding to that, Snape and Dumbledore, who sensed trouble early on, had left mid-match. Their departure all but guaranteed Harry's disappearance would go unnoticed until the very end.
But that inevitability was precisely what sent Severus Snape into a fury. Abandoning the cleanup effort, he stormed straight toward Dumbledore at the sidelines.
"I want an explanation, Dumbledore!"
"Severus—"
"Don't call me that! You promised me. This is not what you told me would happen!!"
His dark expression and the oppressive magic radiating off him made his anger unmistakable.
Anyone witnessing it would struggle to believe Severus Snape was speaking to the greatest wizard of the age—his tone held no deference, only accusation.
Yet Dumbledore showed no anger. He simply adjusted his half-moon glasses with calm ease.
And it was clear Harry Potter's disappearance did not alarm him as much as it did Snape…
"Severus, we have more urgent matters to deal with, don't we?"
"If anything happens, I will never forgive you."
"Trust me. And trust Harry."
"Tch."
Snape fled the scene in a swirl of cloak, and Dumbledore stepped slowly onto the pitch.
With such an incident occurring, the most authoritative wizard present—and Headmaster of Hogwarts—could no longer remain off to the side. It was time to calm the students and give direction...
Thud.
"Prefects, lead your Houses out of the arena in an orderly fashion. Return to your dormitories or common rooms immediately."
Gone was his usual gentle, easy smile. Dumbledore's voice now carried a weight that admitted no argument, tightening the nerves of every professor nearby.
As the students were ushered out, several teachers gathered around Dumbledore, clearly preparing to investigate Harry Potter's disappearance.
Whether he was alive—or dead…
…
Seeing the Headmaster and professors approaching, along with the rising tide of whispers around them, Draco—already aware of part of the situation—lowered his wand and frowned.
Others might not know, but Draco was certain his Fiendfyre Curse hadn't harmed Harry Potter or Viktor Krum.
As for dying to ordinary flames?
If that was all it took, then they had no right to call themselves Champions...
"So that was the goal."
"Hey—what's that supposed to mean?"
"We'll find out soon enough."
Draco gave Fleur that brief reply and fell silent, leaving her staring at his profile in confusion.
She didn't realize that her small, adorably puzzled expression made Madame Maxime—who was approaching—look ever so slightly displeased...
Though Draco's words were vague, his gaze drifted toward the center of the arena.
'Those must be the task items… but…'
Because so much of the ground had been destroyed, Draco could now clearly see the objects arranged on the field.
They had to be the mission targets of the First Task.
Except…
"Two are missing."
"What? Oh—oh, you mean the other two? Do you think something actually happened to them?"
"Who knows. They might've already left the field."
"Huh? If they're not here, then where—"
Fleur never finished her question. Madame Maxime reached her first and swept her into a tight embrace.
The petite girl disappeared entirely in her arms, along with her half-spoken worry.
"You're not hurt, are you? You did wonderfully, dear."
"Uwaaah!"
Compared to Fleur's enthusiastic welcome, Draco's reception was far less warm.
"Fiendfyre Curse! Do you have any idea how dangerous that Dark Magic is?!"
The first to lash out was Karkaroff of Durmstrang. With his prized student also missing, it was no wonder he was furious.
What made his magical pressure spike even higher was Draco's reaction—one dismissive glance before looking away. That blatant disregard nearly sent the headmaster into a rage.
Just as Karkaroff's temper reached its peak, Snape spoke in his cold, cutting tone—
"Rather than that possibility, I'm more inclined to suspect your student did something to Potter. Don't forget—they were together at the end."
"You—what are you implying?!"
"I think you know exactly what I mean. Everyone here is aware of your former… affiliations."
"No! You know perfectly well I've already—"
Under Snape's steady, merciless pressure, Karkaroff grew increasingly frantic, the mention of his past clearly filling him with dread and irritation.
And while Karkaroff spiraled under sudden suspicion, Dumbledore—standing not far away—seemed to notice something.
"Everyone… I believe we need to notify the Ministry of Magic."
Every professor's expression changed instantly.
They didn't know what Dumbledore had discovered, but for him to say that meant only one thing:
Something urgent—perhaps dangerous—was unfolding.
Something was about to happen...
...
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