"The Triwizard Tournament?"
The somewhat unfamiliar term made Harry blink, but before he could wonder for too long, Hermione, with her encyclopedia-like explanation, began in her emotionless tone—
"The Triwizard Tournament is a magical competition held among the three major magic schools in Europe—our Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Durmstrang Institute in Northern Europe, and the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic in France. Each school has one representative to participate.
"The tournament aims to test the little wizards' magic abilities, intelligence, and courage. The champion will win the honor and glory of the competition, the Triwizard Cup, and some monetary rewards. The first recorded tournament was probably over five hundred years ago?
"However, the tournament had a high mortality rate, and because of the numerous deaths, it was stopped in the late 18th century."
Hermione lifted her head from the "Encyclopedia of European Mythology," pulling her thoughts away from the complex relationships of Zeus's family, and introduced to Harry expressionlessly, "Now, it seems the heads of the three schools have discussed hosting it again, so they will certainly take some measures—"
"Yes, this time there is an age restriction. Students registering must be over seventeen, which means an adult."
William nodded. The entry age for Hogwarts School was eleven, so theoretically only seventh-year students could participate, but since entry depends on whether you truly turn eleven by September 1st, if not, even if your birthday is on September 2nd, you would be delayed a year for entry.
So, many students were already twelve when they entered.
For example, Cedric.
That kid has been busy accompanying his girlfriend every day lately, and if it weren't for his duel skills not degrading, he could pass his exams excellently—William would have to show this unloyal fellow some style.
"Ah, then do we not have a chance?"
Harry blinked, sighing somewhat helplessly. Even after his birthday, he would only be fourteen, a gap of three years he couldn't possibly catch up to... right?
Not necessarily, Hermione's eyes brightened, and she subconsciously reached for her collar, but found it empty.
"You want to participate?"
After more than a year of acquaintance, William already understood his assistant (tool person), even the age issue wasn't a problem for her—as long as I use the Time Turner quickly, my age can't catch up to me—
However, the Time Turner in her hands had been taken away by Professor McGonagall, and she would have to wait until the next term to get it back.
But William still intended to dissuade Hermione, because it wasn't stable—better to have Cedric participate, as his abilities were stronger than Hermione's, even though he wasn't as proficient in practical magic runes as Hermione, he was much more adept at most charms.
Speaking of practical magic rune usage, William was somewhat surprised at the Devil's Snare · Tree Realm Descent that Hermione and Neville conjured yesterday, which could already be considered a kind of magic rune creation.
If it were more refined, it might not only restrain a Magic Rune Stone Statue but could even tie up a Fire Dragon; even if it breathes fire, the fire-resistant magic rune circuit could solve it.
Of course, applying such things to ores and plants was already the limit; applying it to animals would require Ancient Magic.
"...No, I don't want to."
Before William could start to intimidate (strikethrough) persuade, Hermione seemed to remember something and quickly shook her head. "But, from what you just said, does it mean this time's Triwizard Tournament might involve more than just the three schools?"
"Yes, this time Dum... Dumbledore said he wants to make it bigger and invited magic schools from all over the world—for example, Ilvermorny in America, Uagadou in Africa, and Castelobruxo in South America..."
William paused before continuing, "If Castelobruxo students come over, there will be fun to watch..."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked curiously.
"Because the guards Castelobruxo uses to watch over the castle are a bunch of Caipora." Hermione indeed was developing in the direction of an encyclopedia.
"Caipora? What's that?"
"Caipora are fluffy little people who enjoy playing tricks. You can think of it as if Castelobruxo students live with a bunch of 'Peeves.' I feel George and Fred might not be able to out-prank those guys."
"...That doesn't sound good."
"What? There's someone we can't prank?"
The compartment door was opened by a shocked George and Fred, who knew how long they'd been eavesdropping. They were holding a big pile of Filibuster Fireworks and Blasting Cards, evidently planning to find some playmates, only changing course after hearing about the Triwizard Tournament.
At this moment, hearing Hermione explain about Castelobruxo's guards, George and Fred's desire to transfer to South America reached its peak.
"They live in the rainforest. You might get bitten on the butt by a snake when going to the bathroom—"
"Then forget it."
"Peeves can be interesting too."
With one sentence, William extinguished their enthusiasm. However, they were clearly quite interested in the upcoming X-number (since it was unknown how many schools would agree) Wizard Tournament and began crowding into the compartment chattering around William. Time flew, and the train began to slow down.
The Hogwarts train pulled into King's Cross Station, slowly coming to a stop amidst a puff of steam.
"Don't forget to write to me during the holidays, it's my only hope—"
Harry stood in front of the red brick wall of Platform 9 3/4, reluctantly bidding farewell to Ron, Hermione, and Neville.
"Don't worry, we'll see each other soon." Ron quickly nodded. "I'll call you about the World Cup. I know how to use that thing now!" The group then parted ways at the station, with Harry pushing a trolley carrying his suitcase and Hedwig's cage.
He quickly walked towards Uncle Vernon waiting at the station entrance, and Uncle Vernon greeted him in his usual manner.
"Get over here, you little brat!"
The fat man glared at Harry, turning to yank open the car door, but in the next moment, a slightly scrawny hand pressed on his shoulder. Vernon Dursley instinctively wanted to shake off the contact, but the next moment, he was horrified to discover he couldn't even move.
"Sirius!"
Harry exclaimed with delight.
"Good morning... no, it's almost evening now, Harry."
Sirius nodded toward Harry, his tone gentle.
"Who are you? Let me go!"
Uncle Vernon apparently couldn't understand what they were saying, glaring at Sirius, his neck reddening as he started to breathe heavily, "Wait, you... you look familiar, I've definitely seen you somewhere!!"
"Probably on the TV, Uncle."
Harry mumbled, and his words revived Vernon's dead memories. He stared at Sirius, terrified.
"Don't scream, or before your Muggle Aurors catch me, I'll definitely take a scapegoat—"
Sirius now knew the Ministry of Magic had issued his wanted poster to the Muggle world, and he seemed quite happy to play this role. He tapped Vernon's neck, and the man discovered, to his horror, he couldn't shout at all.
"Guess who the scapegoat would be? Hard to guess, huh?"
Sirius said with a cheerful smile, but to Vernon, this smile seemed like the devil's.
After Uncle Vernon nodded indicating he wouldn't scream, Sirius allowed his tongue to separate from his palate, his voice low and hoarse, "Listen, fatty, Harry is my godson, I'm his godfather, and for some reasons, I can't take care of him now, so I'm leaving him with you—"
Staring into Uncle Vernon's terrified eyes, Sirius flashed eight teeth, just like that night, bringing back William's psychological shadow to him, "I'll keep in touch with Harry, and if I find out he's even a bit uncomfortable at your place—I'd be delighted to have another 'chat' with you."
The threat was evident, but Vernon could only nod repeatedly, looking at the little wooden stick pressed against his waist. He felt like crying. He knew this thing was a magic wand, just like guns in the wizarding world...
"Good."
Sirius nodded in satisfaction, looking at Harry. "Remember, Harry, contact me, you know how to do it."
"Yes, yes!"
Harry nodded eagerly, breaking into a happy smile as Hedwig clucked softly on the trolley. He was certain this summer would be far better than the last.
...
...
"Where did this guy come from?"
William looked disdainfully at Sirius sitting next to Lupin. Initially, he and Lupin had already changed into Muggle outfits, sitting in a roadside café, waiting for their "Banlangen (Extra Bitter version)." Who knew where Sirius popped up from...
"I want to go to America with you guys!"
Sirius leaned back in his chair, looking like he was determined to go and wouldn't leave if refused.
"We have official business to do there. What are you going for?"
"To have fun."
"... We planned to watch the Quidditch World Cup afterward. He asked me what we'd do before that, and he's insisted on tagging along ever since."
Lupin explained somewhat helplessly.
"Yes, I spent a lot of money to snatch these, three front-row tickets!" Sirius pulled out three tickets from his pocket, sounding a bit excited. "I spent an extra 500 Galleons! But the seats are definitely great!"
"... Is there only you left in the Black family?"
"Yes."
"... Alright, fine, you can come along with us."
William agreed with an impassive face but had already started scheming inwardly—this Sirius looked just like a rich fool. Why hadn't he noticed this before? Hmm, looks like there's a chance to inherit the Black family fortune...
"So how do we get there? Riding brooms? Or do you transform into a Thunderbird and carry the two of us?"
"You plan to fly across the Atlantic on a broom?"
"... Uh-huh."
"... We'll take a plane."
William sighed, reaching out to touch Sirius's forehead. He wasn't feverish, so how did he become so dim?