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Chapter 332: Sudden Upheaval – The Killing Curse
🕑 Added 2025-03-25 18:42:47 +0000 UTCThe Triwizard Tournament's arena was the Quidditch pitch, repurposed for the competition.
As a standard Quidditch stadium, the field itself was not particularly large—an oval measuring 800 feet long and 500 feet wide.
Surrounding it were towering stands, which naturally allowed mist and fog to gather easily.
From the moment the spell was cast, only a dozen seconds had passed.
Centered around Harry, the surrounding area—within a radius of dozens of meters—had already been enveloped in a thick gray fog.
However, the spell seemed to be losing momentum. After the initial expansion, the smoke’s spread began to slow down considerably.
Still, despite weakening, the fog covered a wide enough area for Harry to hide himself effectively.
On the field, unlike the previous dragon's cautious approach, the Hungarian Horntail quickly sensed something off in the arena.
Perhaps due to its dragon species, the one Harry was facing did not breathe fire immediately to probe the mist.
Instead, it chose the most primal method of attack—spreading its wings and lunging directly into the fog.
Inside the mist, Harry moved swiftly—dodging left and right, rolling, sprinting, and leaping.
He executed the Auror evasion techniques taught by Moody to perfection.
Even when the roaring dragonfire erupted, he was able to maintain calm precision—locating the safest spots instantly and escaping through a series of rapid rolls, dodging by a hair’s breadth each time.
However, Harry overlooked one critical detail—this was a public competition.
The fog obstructed the dragon’s vision, but it also completely obscured the audience’s view.
The last match had been a visual spectacle—a thrilling show of skill and courage.
But now, all the spectators could see was a massive cloud of thick gray smoke, covering nearly everything.
The stark contrast frustrated many in the stands, and soon, complaints began to ripple through the crowd.
It was as if they had paid for a movie ticket, only to find the entire screen covered in black smoke—an experience no one would enjoy.
The students wore displeased expressions, and even Madame Maxime and Karkaroff looked annoyed.
At this rate, Harry could simply wait out the match for thirty minutes, ensuring he wouldn’t score too poorly once time ran out.
While Harry was locked in battle, Ino had returned to the champions' tent.
He nodded slightly to Krum and Fleur, then sat back on the long wooden bench where he had been before.
The last match had left him fairly satisfied—especially the dramatic appearance of the Titanoboa.
The visuals, excitement, and unique ice sculptures made it a perfect moment.
Without a doubt, the Triwizard Tournament Special Edition of the Movie Mirror was going to be a hit.
Now, he was simply curious about one thing—would Marcus release the footage in parts or sell all three matches together?
Either way, this was going to be a success.
"Once this event is over, I’ll have to get those Alchemical Puppets back to work…"
The thought of the golems playing around in the valley all day made Ino sigh. They needed to balance work and play—a bit of labor wouldn’t hurt them.
While Ino’s thoughts drifted, outside the tent, Harry was struggling to keep up.
The sand timer in the sky slowly trickled down, just like his stamina.
The relentless dodging was taking its toll, making him feel increasingly drained.
And to make things worse, he could hear the audience now.
Though the comments were muffled, every now and then, one word came through loud and clear—“Coward.”
Harry’s grip on his wand tightened.
He wanted nothing more than to find whoever had said that, drag them down here, and make them experience what it was like to be hunted by a fire-breathing dragon.
But he had no time—dodging the Horntail's attacks demanded every bit of his focus.
Meanwhile, the dragonfire had begun to thin out the fog, gradually revealing his battered state.
With one final blast of flaming breath, the Hungarian Horntail cleared away the last of the smoke.
For the first time, the entire audience got a clear look at Harry.
He was in rough shape.
His messy black hair was coated in dust and dirt. His face was streaked with grime. His robes, once pristine, had burn marks and a torn hem.
Overall—he looked completely disheveled.
Then, someone laughed.
"Pfft... Hahahaha!"
It started with one voice—but like a chain reaction, soon the entire audience burst into laughter.
Harry lowered his head, staring at the wand in his hand.
At that moment, he felt like a complete fool.
He had trained so hard, practiced tirelessly, risked his life fighting the dragon…
And yet, all he got in return was laughter.
All the effort, all the pain—was it all just a joke?
Lost in his thoughts, Harry froze.
But the Hungarian Horntail did not hesitate.
Recognizing its tormentor, it spread its wings wide and charged forward at breakneck speed.
From the sidelines, both Snape and Professor McGonagall instinctively raised their wands.
Experienced dragon handlers rushed forward, ready to intervene.
Even Fawkes, Dumbledore’s Phoenix, suddenly appeared beside Harry, prepared to help.
But Harry didn’t move.
The mockery, exhaustion, and humiliation burned in his mind.
Anger bubbled like molten lava inside him—strong, uncontrollable, all-consuming.
And in that moment, his fury found a target—the dragon.
If not for this damn dragon…
He wouldn’t have been humiliated like this.
He wouldn’t have been mocked by everyone.
Everything was this creature’s fault.
Without thinking—without hesitation—Harry raised his wand.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A flash of green light tore through the air.
For a split second, the entire world seemed to pause.
The Killing Curse struck the Hungarian Horntail—and with a mighty crash, the enormous dragon collapsed lifelessly to the ground.
The laughter in the stands instantly died.
Nobody had expected this.
A student—a Hogwarts Champion—had just cast an Unforgivable Curse in front of thousands of witnesses.
On the main platform, Barty Crouch Sr. shot up from his seat.
"Violation of English Magical Law! Public use of an Unforgivable Curse! Harry Potter must be taken into custody immediately! The Triwizard Tournament is hereby suspended!"
"Barty, wait!" Ludo Bagman interrupted. "Something’s off—he’s just a student! Even if he knew the curse, it shouldn’t have killed a dragon!"
He had no objection to taking Harry Potter into custody, but halting the Triwizard Tournament? That would be more unbearable than anything else for Ludo Bagman.
"Fine! Do whatever you want! But I'm taking that student with me now. The laws of the Ministry of Magic cannot be defied."
Barty Crouch Sr. shot a sharp glance at his former colleague. Whatever Bagman thought didn’t matter to him. Today, there had to be a reckoning.
"Alright, the law is the law! But at least let the competition finish first," Bagman argued, his frustration evident. "Without a proper score from one of the judges, how are we supposed to complete the event?"
Crouch, however, completely ignored Bagman's protest.
Instead, his stern gaze shifted toward the one person who had remained silent all this time — Albus Dumbledore.
Everyone knew that in all of England, there was no opinion that could outweigh Dumbledore’s.
Now, they waited — for the Headmaster of Hogwarts to speak.
