"Fire Dragon."
After listening to Ron's exaggerated, somewhat frantic gestures, Hermione blinked and repeated with a bit of confusion.
"Yes, fire dragon!"
Ron stared wide-eyed, seemingly quite dissatisfied with Hermione's rather bland reaction.
"...And then?"
"..."
"What's wrong?"
"Are you not surprised at all that the tournament is related to fire dragons?"
Seeing Hermione seemed oblivious to the seriousness of the situation, Ron stood up, his voice not loud but still attracting a few people's attention, like the other red-headed Weasleys. George curiously leaned in, "What are you talking about? Fire dragon?"
"No, nothing at all!"
Ron remembered Harry telling them to keep it a secret last night, so he naturally shook his head decisively—moreover, no one should let George or Fred know, otherwise it would be no different from the whole school knowing.
It took him a full ten minutes to shift George's attention elsewhere, and Harry beside him couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.
Then, the boy looked a bit troubled.
"So, how do we deal with a fire dragon?"
The four of them sat by the Black Lake, staring at the dark water ahead, and Harry couldn't help but sigh again.
"I think they probably won't require you to defeat or deal with a fire dragon—"
Hermione scratched her head, finally pulling Kabuda out from her hair where it had been sleeping—no wonder she'd felt her head was a bit heavy since getting up in the morning.
This Niffler has become increasingly elusive lately. Besides William's pocket, which is the fixed spawn point, it often randomly appears in various curious places. Harry remembered the last time he saw it was in the owlery, where Kabuda seemed to be arguing with Hedwig.
"...What do you mean?"
Harry took Kabuda, reached out to scratch its bulging belly, and a pile of Galleons and jewels fell out, making Ron's eyes go wide.
"The organizers wouldn't give out tasks that are absolutely deadly—" Hermione continued.
"I think so too!"
After hearing Hermione's explanation, Ron quickly nodded in agreement, saying, "I feel the same way."
You didn't say that last night.
Upon hearing about it last night, Ron had the biggest reaction among the group—
He even sincerely apologized to Harry again, saying he had doubted Harry previously for not including him in the vote, thinking Harry wanted to show off, and said if he faced a fire dragon himself, he'd rather jump out of the dorm window wearing the second-hand dress Mrs. Weasley bought him and fall to his death—
Harry and Neville both glanced at Ron and then tacitly chose not to respond.
"But even if that's the case, we still have a big chance of facing off with a fire dragon—"
"Like Norbert?"
"...Don't dismiss Norbert as just a dog-like fire dragon!"
"What's Norbert?"
Listening to Harry and Hermione's conversation, Ron suddenly felt there seemed to be a little secret they were hiding from him. The boy scratched his stomach and curiously asked.
"If it's just about controlling a fire dragon like Norbert, I might have an idea..."
Beside him, Neville hesitated for a moment before finally speaking softly.
"So, you have a solution for a fire dragon!"
Although the question was unanswered, Ron was even more shocked—he turned his head to stare at the seemingly "simple" Neville, his eyes full of questions like "When did you secretly become this impressive?", as if sitting there wasn't Neville but a troll speaking fluent English.
Moreover, "Norbert is a fire dragon? Wait a minute, am I the only one who doesn't know this name?" Ron was astonished, feeling the world had betrayed him.
"It's about control, resolving is certainly unlikely."
Neville chuckled, humbly shaking his head.
"Are you saying?"
Hermione paused, and then her eyes also brightened.
"...Can you guys include me in your conversation."
Looking at these two Riddlers taking turns with their riddles, Ron just felt as if there were thousands of Nifflers crawling in his lungs.
"Don't worry, I don't know what they are talking about either—"
Harry patted Ron's shoulder, his tone heavy, his words bringing Ron a sense of comfort, suggesting he wasn't the only fool...
"Remember last year's final exam?" Hermione suddenly spoke.
"!" Thus, Harry's eyes lit up.
Well, just him.
Ron withdrew, not understanding a single word of these encrypted conversations from the group—
"I thought you saw Norbert that night, along with Lina and Kakarong... After all, Charlie saw it."
Excited as he was, Harry didn't forget to check on his good friend.
"...Which night?"
...
...
On the day of the tournament, classes at the school were canceled by noon, and once everyone finished lunch, all the students were directed to the Fire Dragon's enclosure below—of course, the "secrecy" was well-maintained, and the little wizards didn't know what they would witness there.
"Harry, are you ready?"
During lunch, amidst a chorus of chatter, Cedric pulled down his hood and secretly sat beside Harry—he managed to lose those fans chasing him for autographs, especially some girls from Ilvermorny.
Because of this, he couldn't even sit with Cho Chang for lunch.
"...Almost?"
Harry was chewing on lobster meat; ever since students from all over the world arrived at the castle, Hogwarts' kitchen has been rolling out new dishes faster than Neville's toad gets lost, even Boston lobsters made it to the table—
This is probably the only kitchen in the British Wizarding World truly connected internationally.
"I don't know what the task is exactly, but my preparation should be enough to defeat a Fire Dragon—"
Cedric sighed too, using a knife and fork to tackle the ceviche on his plate—another new dish, said to be the national dish of Peru.
Over the past fortnight, Hogwarts' little wizards seemed to realize one thing: Great Britain truly is a food desert.
As for now, the overly noisy hall made Harry miss the "main point" in Cedric's words.
After a while, as Harry set down his knife and fork, Professor McGonagall hurried over from outside the hall, and many people watched them.
"Potter, Diggory, all the champions need to go down to the field now... you must be prepared to complete the first task."
"Alright."
Harry spoke as he stood up, and his fork clattered into the plate.
"Good luck!" Hermione said quietly from the side, "You'll definitely succeed!"
And Ron just opened his mouth, too nervous to speak—as if he were the champion.
The two of them, along with Professor McGonagall, left the hall. Professor McGonagall seemed a bit flustered—in fact, she was almost more anxious than Ron. She accompanied them down the stone steps to the outdoors; it was a very cold afternoon in November, and she placed her hand on their shoulders.
"Alright, don't be nervous."
The witch pressed her lips tightly, as if comforting herself, then she lifted her eyes, letting her gaze sweep over their faces, and finally resting on Harry's face, "No matter what you see in a moment, keep a calm mind, don't panic... we've taken enough safety measures, someone will step in to control the situation..."
Harry and Cedric instinctively exchanged a glance, wondering if Professor McGonagall knew they were given a hint?
Well, she always detested such cheating.
After the two of them agreed, Professor McGonagall continued to lead them along the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Soon, Harry saw a tent; he was sure this tent wasn't here yesterday—clearly, this was where the Fire Dragon was kept.
"Looks like everyone is here?"
Harry heard a gentle voice and turned his head, seeing an old man with graying hair squatting by the entrance of the tent. The boy blinked, "Mr. Scamander?" He remembered the man; he had seen him in the Room of Requirement on Christmas Day.
"Oh, Potter, so you're also a champion—"
Newt nodded, holding a small cloth bag tightly in his hand.
"Newt."
Professor McGonagall nodded to the old man as a greeting and then pulled Harry and Cedric over again, "You need to go in there with the other champions and wait for your turn; Mr. Bagman is also inside... he'll explain the steps to you... good luck."
With that, she turned and left them there.
"Hey, don't worry; they're just some cute little creatures."
Newt shook his head, trying to reassure them, but Harry and Cedric, already knowing the content of the competition, were wide-eyed, finding Newt's statement baffling.
The two of them entered the tent, where many people were sitting scattered around the fairly spacious area. Harry immediately saw Fleur, who was sitting in a corner on a low wooden stool. She looked nothing like her usual calm self, extremely pale and a bit ill.
The other champions were much the same, including Abeba Hailu from Uagadou; she seemed to know the content of the competition too—
Only Viktor Krum looked confused at the nervous crowd, appearing to be the only one unaware of the situation.
"Harry! Excellent!"
Ludo Bagman stood in the center of the tent, and at that moment, he turned his head to look at those who had just walked in, saying cheerfully, "Come in, come in, alright, relax, just like at home! Mr. Scamander, are you ready?"
"Of course."
Newt nodded, then winked at Harry before continuing to clutch the bag and heading towards another exit of the tent.
"...That bag he's holding, could it be?"
Cedric suddenly spoke, and Harry, belatedly catching on, reacted too.
"Alright, alright, everyone look at me!"
Bagman stood among the pale-faced champions, looking like a large cartoon figure because he had donned that old Wimbourne Wasps uniform again.