bacchusnovels Chapter 472 Lottery Before the Project
Chapter 472 Lottery Before the Project
Chapter 472 Lottery Before the Project
Hermione's expression changed slightly when she heard the question.
"Why are you suddenly asking this?" She paused, her ears turning slightly red, seemingly unsure how to answer. Finally, she changed the subject, "Actually, I've been thinking about the rights of house-elves lately—"
Harry looked at her, and he already knew the answer in his heart.
He had noticed some signs of trouble since last year.
Harry was exhausted both physically and mentally when he returned to his dormitory.
Ron had been placed on the bed by him using a levitation charm, lying quietly, while his gaze kept wandering in the darkness outside the window.
Tomorrow's three-way battle for supremacy—the Fire Arrow, the Dragon—every detail of the competition keeps replaying in my mind.
His mind was filled with swirling thoughts—would he succeed? What would happen if he failed? Would he survive the dragon's flames? Or would he, like many others, become a victim of the competition?
"Stop thinking about it," he whispered to himself, but the chaotic thoughts in his mind still surged like a tide, uncontrollable.
"Tomorrow, tomorrow will be over," Harry told himself. He felt his breathing becoming heavier and his eyelids growing heavier.
Just as he was about to open his eyes again, sleepiness finally washed over him like a tidal wave.
Exhaustion and anxiety intertwined, and finally, his thoughts were completely swallowed by darkness, and he fell into a deep sleep.
It was late at night, and the dormitory was quiet except for the occasional sound of the wind outside and the swaying shadows of the trees outside the window, as if everything was preparing for tomorrow's competition.
And Harry, in the midst of a night filled with chaotic thoughts, finally drifted off to sleep—in his dream,
He stood before the enormous dragon, the surrounding air distorted by flames, as if he would be swallowed up at any moment.
On the other hand, Cho Chang found himself in the same predicament as Harry.
However, unlike him,
She wasn't thinking about dragons.
Instead, it was "Professor Phillips." Charlie walked to the side and saw Sean standing at the entrance of the arena, watching the dragon trapped in the enclosure.
"Director Phillips," another Ministry of Magic official gestured to Sean.
Sean wore a dark green wizard's robe, his hands behind his back, occasionally smiling and nodding in response to the wizards around him.
"Thank you all for your hard work!"
"It's no trouble at all, it's just serving the Ministry of Magic!"
In the arena, nine adult dragons are trapped in an area enclosed by thick wooden planks.
They were huge and muscular, their scales gleaming in the dim light, making them look exceptionally fierce. But at this moment, they were all unconscious, lying quietly on the ground, almost motionless.
Why did they all faint?
Before the middle-aged Ministry of Magic official standing behind him could say anything, Charlie jogged over and answered first.
"This is their rest time. These dragons need to maintain sufficient strength and condition for tomorrow's competition. They usually take some sedatives the day before the competition to ensure that their performance in the competition is not too intense."
Sean nodded and asked Charlie again.
"Where did these dragons come from?"
This time, the middle-aged man won first place.
"These dragons were brought in from different countries by the Ministry of Magic through diplomatic relations. This Triwizard Tournament will involve some transnational magical creature management matters, so the Ministry of Magic and the magical creature regulatory agencies of various countries have been communicating for the past few days to select suitable dragons for the competition."
He pointed to one of the dragons, whose scales shimmered with a silvery-blue luster, and said, "This Swedish short-nosed dragon was borrowed from the Swedish Magical Creatures Authority. They usually keep these dragons in valleys far from Muggles, specifically to breed individuals suitable for training and observation."
Then, the middle-aged man pointed to another black dragon, which was more majestic than the others, with particularly sharp bronze spikes on its tail. "The Hungarian Horned Dragon was imported with a special permit from the Hungarian Ministry of Magic. They are not usually lent out casually. We were able to obtain it this time mainly because the competition was of a high standard, and the Ministry of Magic put in a lot of effort."
Sean looked at the Hungarian Ceratosaurus, which, even in its unconscious state, still exuded a powerful aura of intimidation.
"What about the others?" he pressed.
The middle-aged man's gaze swept over the other dragons in the arena, and he continued to explain, "The Welsh Green Dragon is a native species, managed by the Ministry of Magic itself. Fireball was introduced from the Eastern Magical Creature Reserve through the coordination of the International Magical Creature Exchange Organization. The dragons there mainly live in high mountains and deep valleys, and are relatively irritable, so we need to be especially careful. The other ones, the Romanian Longhornosaurus, Norwegian Spinosaurus, and Peruvian Venomous Fang Dragon, were all temporarily assigned from the Romanian Dragon Training Center."
To be honest, Sean was a little confused. These kinds of things about managing magical creatures had never been within his area of expertise. "So, these dragons weren't just captured randomly, but were caught through a formal arrangement?"
"Of course," the middle-aged man nodded. "According to the procedure of the last Triwizard Tournament a hundred years ago, when magical creatures are involved, the Ministry of Magic will formulate detailed biological management plans to ensure the fairness and safety of the competition. These dragons are carefully selected, which are dangerous enough to ensure the challenge of the competition, but at the same time, they are within a controllable range."
"Controllable? But I've never thought dragons are creatures that can be completely controlled," Charlie interjected from the side.
The middle-aged man ignored Charlie and instead smiled helplessly at Sean. "He's right, Director. Dragons are never entirely controllable. That's why we administer sedatives to them beforehand to ensure they don't act too unpredictably during the competition. Of course, we also have dedicated dragon trainers on standby at all times, in case things get out of control..."
We will intervene immediately.
"Can I touch them up close?" Sean suddenly asked.
The middle-aged man immediately patted his chest and said, "Of course, Director, it's an honor for them that you can touch them."
Seeing the man's eager expression, Sean patted him on the shoulder.
"What's your name?"
"Peo White".
"If you encounter any trouble at the Department of Magical Creature Management and Control, you can report to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at any time."
The middle-aged man's smile widened even further.
The next day, Qiu Zhang was absent-minded all day.
Although the atmosphere in class was relatively relaxed, and everyone was full of curiosity and excitement about the upcoming three-way competition, Qiu Zhang was completely unable to concentrate. She sat in her seat like a walking corpse, her eyes staring blankly at the blackboard, but the letters and numbers in front of her seemed to be dancing, making it impossible for her to clear her mind.
"Qiu Zhang, are you alright?" her roommate asked softly, noticing that she looked a little off.
Cho Chang didn't answer, so she turned her head to continue listening to Professor Flitwick's explanation of spells, but her eyes were still somewhat wandering out of the corner of her eye.
Thinking back on yesterday's events, she couldn't help but think of Rita's mission.
Judging from what has happened these past few days, the task that I initially found extremely shameful doesn't seem to be a difficult thing after all.
Is this a good thing or a bad thing?
Qiu Zhang's eyes were filled with confusion.
"Miss Qiu Zhang, all the warriors are now heading to the field below—you must be prepared to complete the first task."
At lunchtime, Qiu Zhang finally received a call from Professor Flitwick.
Time was moving in a stranger way, as if it were galloping forward at breakneck speed. One minute she seemed to be sitting in the classroom having her first class, and the next she was in the auditorium having lunch—and then she had to go to the competition.
"come on."
"Akiharu, do your best!"
The atmosphere at the Ravenclaw long table instantly became lively, with everyone offering their blessings and encouragement.
Qiu Zhang listened and managed a weak smile, but his mood grew even heavier.
Professor Flitwick's expression was also not good. He couldn't imagine that the first event of this Triwizard Tournament would be for these children to fight dragons.
Dragon.
That's a dragon.
How could these children possibly handle such powerful and dangerous magical creatures?
He accompanied Qiu Zhang down the stone steps and outside. It was a chilly November afternoon, and the air was damp, as if foreshadowing rain soon.
"Alright, don't be nervous," Professor Flitwick said softly, his tone much gentler than usual. "Keep a calm mind—we've placed some wizards here; they'll intervene immediately if things get bad. Most importantly, use your abilities; no one will think you're inferior to anyone else—are you alright?"
"It's nothing." Qiu Zhang said this, but his tone was somewhat hollow. "It's nothing, I'm fine."
Professor Flitwick didn't speak, but simply nodded, leading her around the edge of the Forbidden Forest toward the dragon's lair.
As they approached, Qiu Zhang noticed that a hidden area was concealed by a large tent, the entrance of which faced them directly.
"You must go in with the other warriors," Professor Flitwick said softly, pausing. "Wait for your turn, Miss Cho Chang. Mr. Bagman is inside too; he will tell you the next steps—good luck."
"Thank you," Qiu Zhang replied calmly, his voice sounding somewhat tired.
Indeed, she was prepared to face all of this.
Professor Flitwick patted her shoulder gently, his eyes filled with worry, but he didn't say anything more.
He simply stood there quietly, watching her walk toward the tent entrance.
Qiu Zhang took a deep breath, regulated his breathing, then lifted the curtain and stepped inside.
The tent flap hung low behind her, instantly shutting out the noise from the outside world.
A tense and heavy atmosphere permeated the air, as if even the light was being suppressed by this invisible pressure.
The tent was not very large, and the oil lamps around it emitted a faint light. Several warriors each occupied a corner, each immersed in their own world.
Fleur Delacour sat alone on a low wooden stool in the corner, her arms wrapped around herself, her face as pale as if she had just recovered from a serious illness, devoid of her usual elegance and confidence. Her lips were tightly pressed together, and her brows were slightly furrowed; clearly, the dragon's challenge had begun to sow the seeds of fear within her.
Viktor Krum was as somber as ever, standing on the other side, holding Eileen's hand tightly.
Eileen also looked somewhat uneasy, but she didn't speak. She just stood quietly beside Krum, as if offering him comfort with her presence.
Cedric paced back and forth incessantly, his steps hurried and slightly agitated.
As for Harry, he didn't pace anxiously like Cedric, nor did he appear as pale and exhausted as Fleur.
Instead, he sat quietly in the corner, his hands crossed on his knees, as if trying to keep himself calm.
When Qiu Zhang came in, he looked up and gave her a forced smile.
Cho Chang returned the smile, though her heart still raced a little faster, Harry's smile eased her tension somewhat.
Bagman stood out awkwardly among a group of pale-faced warriors.
He was still wearing his old Hornets jersey, the badge on his chest faded, but his excessive excitement seemed completely out of place with the tense atmosphere inside the tent, making him look like a cartoon character.
"Alright, now that everyone's here, it's time to give you a brief introduction!" Bagman said cheerfully, his voice carrying an inappropriate lightness. "Once everyone's gathered, I'll be handing this bag to each of you in turn."
He picked up a purple silk bag and shook it; the contents inside rattled slightly.
"You each pick out a small model of the thing you're going to face! They come in different types—well, a class. And one more thing—oh, right—your task is to collect the golden eggs!"
Silence fell over the tent as Qiu Zhang scanned his surroundings.
Cedric nodded to indicate that he understood Bagman's words, then continued pacing in the tent, his face slightly green and his lips tightly pressed together, far more nervous than he was willing to admit.
Fleur Delacour maintained her haughty demeanor, one hand unconsciously stroking the hem of her robe, her lips tightly pressed together, her face paler than usual.
As for the others, their expressions weren't much better than the two above them.
Heavy footsteps echoed outside the tent, followed by hundreds upon hundreds of mixed voices—excited conversations…
Laughter and various murmurs filled the air. The spectators were pouring into the stadium, their eager anticipation creating a peculiar contrast.
This created a strong sense of isolation for everyone inside the tent, as if they and the audience belonged to two completely different worlds.
Just as he felt time seemed to be speeding up, Bagman had already untied the purple silk bag, his face still bearing that relaxed and cheerful smile.
"Ladies first," he said, handing the bag to Fleur Delacour.
Hibiscus stretched out a trembling hand, reached into the cloth bag, hesitated for a moment with her fingertips inside, and then pulled out a small, lifelike model of a dragon—a Welsh green dragon with a small metal tag around its neck that clearly read: Number Two.