bacchusnovels Chapter 469 The Flying Curse
Chapter 469 The Flying Curse
Chapter 469 The Flying Curse
Several figures appeared at the library entrance.
One of them was Krum.
Every time Krum arrives, it inevitably causes a bloodbath.
Even with Eileen around, many male and female wizards still linger around him.
This also unwittingly increased the pressure on Harry and Hermione to find information.
However, Krum seemed oblivious to the presence of the two people. He was doing his best to block out the distractions around him and focus all his attention on Eileen in front of him.
Eileen didn't mind some witches getting close to him, which made him feel even more guilty, and he wanted to pour all his love into Eileen in the end.
Harry and Hermione left the library empty-handed.
Harry had his head down, his brow furrowed, clutching a rather useless book in his hand: "An Analysis of the Basic Habits of Magical Creatures."
They spent hours in the library, flipping through countless books, but found no practically applicable strategies.
The dragon is still a dragon—tall, dangerous, and fire-breathing—while his magic wand remains just a thin stick.
Harry even fantasized that even if he were given the three powerful pieces of Death's armor, he probably still wouldn't be able to defeat the ferocious dragons from his memories.
After all, this isn't a fairy tale world, and even heroes aren't guaranteed to defeat dragons.
"Harry," Hermione's voice sounded beside her, tentative.
Harry took a deep breath, as if exhaling a pent-up feeling in his chest, then lowered his hand and tossed the book into Hermione's arms. "It's no use," he said, his voice full of helplessness. "These books don't explain how to survive a dragon's mouth at all."
Hermione held the book, her brows furrowed slightly, as if deep in thought.
She quickly stopped, took Harry's arm, and made him stop too.
"Harry," her tone suddenly turned serious, "you can't think like that."
"Why don't you think that way?" Harry gave a wry smile and said self-deprecatingly, "Hermione, I'm facing a dragon."
A real, fire-breathing dragon. And I—I don't even have a decent plan.
Hermione didn't speak immediately, but just looked at him quietly. Then, she reached out and gently patted his shoulder.
"We've encountered plenty of 'unplanned situations' before, haven't we?" she said. "Cerberus, Basilisk,..."
"Dementors—don't you always manage to find a way?"
Harry paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on Hermione's face.
“But this time is different,” he said, his voice lowering. “Back then—at least I knew how to deal with it.”
I know I need to find the key, I know I need to use Parsley, I know I need to summon the Patronus—but this time, Hermione, I know nothing.
Hermione sighed softly, then said firmly, "Then let's keep looking. We'll find a way eventually."
"But time is running out," Harry murmured.
Hermione released his arm, took a few steps forward, then turned back to look at him, her tone even more resolute than before, "There's never enough time, but that doesn't mean you can't win." Then, as if recalling a past experience, she hesitated, "I've been through something similar before, and back then I felt like the sky was falling."
Just as she was speaking, a familiar voice suddenly came from behind her.
"Potter, come with me." Mad-Eye Moody stepped out from the side.
Harry's heart skipped a beat, and he immediately turned around, looking at Moody in a panic.
Did he overhear their conversation?
"Um—Professor, I was just about to go to the Great Hall for dinner—" Harry quickly explained.
"Never mind that, Porter," Moody interrupted him curtly. "Come to my office."
Harry's heart skipped a beat, unsure of what would happen next.
Will Moody question him about how he knew about dragons? How should he answer? What if Moody decides to go to Dumbledore and report Hagrid? Could he even be turned into a ferret?
Harry's mind was filled with a jumble of thoughts—if he were a weasel, it would be much easier to get past the dragon.
The ferret was much smaller and harder to spot—he barely realized he had followed Moody into the office. After they entered, Moody closed the door and turned to face Harry.
The sight of that magical eye staring at Harry simultaneously with his normal eye was unsettling.
"Sit down," Moody said, gesturing to the chair next to the table.
Harry sat down and looked around—he'd been to this office before—when Professor Lockhart was still here, and the walls were covered with his ever-smiling photos—and later, when Professor Lupin took over, it was often filled with all sorts of wonderful and novel dark magical creatures—which Lupin had brought from all over the place for the students to study.
Now, the office is filled with all sorts of strange and unusual objects, which Harry guesses are tools that Moody used during his time as an Auror.
To be honest, Harry thought this office was a bit ominous.
There's even a possibility that it wasn't the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor that was cursed, but rather the room itself.
Lost in thought, Harry's gaze fell on a large glass top with a crack on Moody's table.
It was a peephole, which he recognized because he had one too, only much smaller than Moody's.
At the other end of the table, a golden object caught his attention; it was twisted like a deformed television antenna and was emitting a soft buzzing sound.
On the opposite wall hung a strange mirror, which did not reflect the scene in the room, but rather many blurry figures moving in the darkness.
It looks extremely eerie.
Moody stood in front of Harry, seemingly observing his every move.
The air between them was silent and heavy, and Harry felt as if he could hardly breathe under Moody's merciless gaze.
"You like my Dark Magic Detector, don't you?" Moody's eyes remained fixed on Harry.
"What?" Harry pointed to the twisted golden antenna. "You mean this?"
“A black magic detector,” Moody explained. “It can detect plots and lies, and it starts vibrating once it detects them—but it’s basically useless here. There’s too much interference; every student is making up lies about their unfinished homework. It’s been buzzing nonstop ever since I moved in. I had to break my sniffer because it would scream incessantly; it was unbearable. It’s so sensitive; it can detect anything within a mile. Of course, it can detect more than just students’ little tricks.” His voice was hoarse and deep.
Harry was a little confused. "What's that mirror for?"
"Oh, that's my magic mirror." Moody nodded, looking in the direction of the mirror. "See those sneaky figures? If I can see the whites of their eyes, I'll be in trouble. Then I'll have to open my box."
He gave a short laugh and pointed to a large box under the window.
The box had seven keyholes, which looked quite strange.
Harry was trying to guess what might be inside the box when Moody suddenly asked:
"So—you've discovered the matter of dragons, is that right?"
Harry froze, his heart pounding. Hagrid's situation had been bothering him, and he had only told Cho Chang, not Cedric, nor did he intend to tell Moody. But Moody seemed to have no intention of letting him avoid the issue.
“It’s okay,” Moody continued. “Cheating has always been part of the Triwizard Tournament, it’s a tradition.”
“I didn’t cheat,” Harry immediately retorted. “I found out by chance.”
Moody grinned. "I'm not blaming you, son. I told Dumbledore from the beginning that he could have been more virtuous, but I bet Karkaroff and Maxim wouldn't have. They would have done everything they could to tell their warriors everything. They'd do anything to win, even try to defeat Dumbledore. They wanted to prove he was just a mortal."
Moody's laughter was dry and harsh, and his magical eyes darted around rapidly, making Harry feel uneasy.
"So—" Moody paused, then sneered, "have you figured out how to deal with your dragon?"
Harry lowered his head, his voice heavy. "No."
"Oh, I'm not going to tell you," Moody's tone suddenly hardened. "I can't take your side, can I? I just want to give you some well-intentioned, general advice. The first one is to play to your strengths."
Harry froze. "I have no strengths." The words slipped out, and he immediately tried to take them back, but it was too late.
Moody retorted directly, "No, I disagree." He paused, then continued, "I said you have strengths, and you have strengths. Now, think about it, what are you best at?"
Harry closed his eyes, trying his best to concentrate.
What are you best at?
He suddenly thought of Quidditch. "Although it was the result of many people's help—" he blurted out.
"That's right," Moody said almost imperceptibly, his gaze fixed on Harry, his magical eyes as sharp as a hawk's. "As far as I know, you're an exceptionally talented flyer."
"Yes, but—" Harry hesitated, "I can't use a broom, only a wand—"
“I’ll give you a second piece of general advice,” Moody interrupted him, his voice almost deafening, “recite a simple and effective spell to get what you need.”
Harry looked at him, puzzled, and asked in confusion.
"What do I need?"
"You need a summoning spell."
Looking at Cho Chang, who had appeared in front of him ten minutes earlier, Sean said decisively.
Qiu Zhang paused, her brow furrowing slightly. "A summoning spell?" she repeated, her tone uncertain. "It works for flying missions, but..."
Sean nodded, interrupting his doubts. "Yes, it's usually used to summon objects, but think about it—if you could use a Summoning Charm to distract the dragon, or have something fly over to distract it, you'd have a chance." He paused, a barely perceptible smile playing on his lips. "I know it sounds unlikely, but considering the situation you're facing, it might be an opportunity."
Qiu Zhang's expression gradually changed, as if she was seriously considering the suggestion. "However, the control over the summoning spell is not strong, especially in front of such a huge creature—if it happens too frequently or senses a threat—" She frowned.
I think this method is extremely risky.
Sean looked at her and agreed, "But let's see, this isn't the only way." He paused, "However, if you can precisely control the casting point of the Summoning Charm, even just a few seconds of interference would be enough for you to get to the dragon."
Even "What?"
"You can even use the Summoning Spell to make that dragon egg fly right to your side."
This suggestion was so audacious that it momentarily shocked Qiu Zhang.
She lowered her head and pondered for a while before slowly raising it, looking at Sean with trepidation. "Professor, do you think... I really can do it?"
Sean's expression turned serious. "You can," he continued. "I've seen you play Quidditch. I know it's a different story, but if you can apply that composure and control you have in flight, the Summoning Charm isn't impossible. Besides, you have me. I can train you on the Summoning Charm over the next few days."
Qiu Zhang was silent for a few seconds, then finally nodded. "Okay, I'll give it a try."
So, encouraged by Sean, Cho Chang began training with the Summoning Charm, while Harry prepared to face his own challenges.
"We need to practice quickly, time is running out," Harry said anxiously to Ron.
Ron nodded, though he looked rather lazy, he still stood up. "Alright, I'll help out in any way I can." He said, picking up his wand, ready to begin training.
Harry stared at the book in front of him, but he didn't have much confidence.
The Summoning Spell is not as simple as it seems; it is one of the oldest known spells in the wizarding world.
At Hogwarts, only fourth-year students learn this spell.
"First, you have to concentrate," Harry read the instructions from the book, trying to recall how he felt on the Quidditch field. "Like flying, focus, stay steady."
He raised his wand, pointed it at an open space, and softly uttered the spell: "Fly here!"
However, the wand did not react. Harry nervously swallowed, adjusted his posture again, and tried to concentrate.
But no matter how hard he tried, the Flying Curse always seemed to keep a distance from him.
"Fly here!" he repeated, his tone more resolute than before.
This time, the object in the air only swayed slightly before coming to a stop, as if nothing had happened.
Harry lowered his head, his brow furrowed, and a growing anxiety rose within him—if he wanted any chance of survival in the competition, he had to master this spell—so he had to learn it.
"I know it's not easy, but it can't be completely impossible—" Harry complained, turning to look at Ron beside him.
Ron looked a little disappointed, but he still tried to comfort Harry: "You did very well, at least a little better than before."
Harry managed a weak smile, but the sense of defeat lingered in his heart.
He could clearly feel himself becoming increasingly impatient, gripping his wand tighter and tighter, his fingertips throbbing with pain from the excessive force.
"Let's try again." Harry took a deep breath and refocused his gaze on the air.
However, despite his renewed focus, the spell still failed to work.
Time passed slowly, and the night outside the window grew darker. Hermione joined the lesson, but there was still no progress.
On the other hand, Cho Chang seemed to be caught in the same predicament as Harry.
As a higher-ranking witch, she had learned this spell, but...