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Chapter 23: The first task
🕑 Added 2025-01-26 08:47:43 +0000 UTCCelestial Ascendancy
Chapter 23: The first task
Hogwarts.
Elias Blake.
Stepping inside the champions' tent, I focused on what I knew was coming. Thankfully, while the past few weeks had progressed faster than usual, things happened mostly as I had expected.
The Astral Candescence had worked marvelously, arriving at the perfect time. I didn’t know exactly how much it increased my training gains, but I estimated it to be around thirty percent. With its help, I earned Professor Flitwick's admiration and respect. My sword techniques had progressed at an alarming rate, enough to baffle the diminutive professor.
It was a relief to know I could trust him. He had noticed discrepancies between who I was before this year and who I had become. I had improved by leaps and bounds in these few short weeks, so much so that he admitted he was betting on me for the first task. I remembered the moment vividly, the smirk on his face as he wished me luck.
Surprisingly, I didn’t feel much pressure from his confidence in me.
Another highlight of these weeks was my growing relationship with the girls. Iris, Hermione, and I had grown even closer. Thankfully, we had no awkwardness or competition, just mutual confidence, understanding, and love. I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve this, but I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.
Iris, as usual, was the spark of energy and mischief I sorely needed to destress. Her ability to keep things light, even on the most stressful days, was a gift. She always knew exactly how to make me feel better. We spent hours practicing spells and sparring, which benefited us both immensely. The Arcane Wind was something we used daily, and I had to admit that without my brand of bullshit, thanks to the Grimoire, Iris would have left me in the dust.
It was baffling just how much talent she had. I was no slouch, but without the Grimoire, I just knew that I could not compare with the fate-touched girl.
Her unwavering support and confidence that I could handle the dragon were invaluable. The girls were understandably shocked and afraid when I told them what the first task would involve. I spent the entire night comforting them. Facing a dragon was dangerous, no matter how much I trained or planned. Dragons were magnificent creatures, and I’d need to be cautious even with my powers.
Hermione, as expected, took a more pragmatic approach. She threw herself into research like a woman possessed, determined to cram every bit of knowledge I’d need about dragons. She combed through every book in the library to give me every possible edge. It was... admirable, to say the least.
They were the best team I could have hoped for.
Taking a deep breath, I calmed myself as I opened my eyes, enjoying the looks of shock on every face present.
It was understandable. I didn’t think anyone but Professor Flitwick and the girls had seen me during the last three weeks. I had disappeared from public view, taking full advantage of not having to attend classes for the year to train until I physically couldn’t anymore.
Since I didn’t want to waste the opportunity to make an impression and lessen the bad press the girls had warned me about; I dressed for the occasion. I wore an outfit straight out of an anime, a typical adventurer's attire based on sketches I’d sent to Madam Malkin. The girls had teased me mercilessly when I described what I wanted, but when they saw how I looked, they had trouble keeping themselves from drooling.
It was far less traditional than what the other champions wore, but no one could deny that I looked cool as fuck right now.
Inside the tent, Fleur was staring at me with wonder in her beautiful eyes, and I had to stifle a smirk as I caught sight of the Beauxbatons headmistress gaping at me, her mouth slightly ajar.
Cedric and Krum were watching me with inquisitive expressions, though Krum hid his curiosity better than Cedric. Cedric’s shock was understandable—he knew me far better than anyone else here, and my body's changes over the past few weeks were glaringly obvious.
The most surprising reaction, however, came from Dumbledore. His frown deepened as his piercing blue eyes fixed on me. There was a moment of silence as he regarded me, the edges of his gaze hardening. He shook his head lightly, letting out a faint sigh before motioning me inside.
The tension in his eyes didn’t fade as I stepped closer to join the other competitors. However, he remained silent until we were all gathered.
“Welcome, everyone,” Dumbledore began, his familiar twinkle absent from his smile. It felt forced, though I wasn’t sure if the others noticed.
“Today will test your courage and cunning,” he continued neutrally, “I hope you all surpass the task without harm. But before we begin, I’d like to introduce a very special guest.”
With a graceful motion, Dumbledore gestured to a woman standing nearby, someone I hadn’t noticed before. She looked to be in her sixties, with an air of calm authority and a warm smile that immediately put most people at ease. But knowing she was a witch, there was no way for me to guess her real age.
“Welcome, participants,” the woman greeted us with a soothing voice. “My name is Pranitha Iyer, a healer from India. The French Ministry has hired me to ensure you all have the best healer available and to guarantee no one uses potions or rituals to gain an unfair advantage against the other champions.”
Her gaze swept across us as she continued, “Some of you may already know of me, but for those who don’t, allow me to introduce myself further. I’ve traveled extensively and earned recognition for my work during the war against the Dark Lord Grindelwald. I served as a front-line healer and became known for my expertise in countering Dark Curses and Rituals. I am also one of the few remaining Parselmouths in the world, and I use that gift for the betterment of others.”
Her admission about being a Parselmouth caused Percy Weasley to frown a little, but to my surprise, no one else reacted negatively. The students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang appeared more intrigued than anything else, their faces lighting up with awe and curiosity.
Of course, in Britain, Parselmouths carried a stigma thanks to Voldemort. The British wizarding world had a frustratingly long memory of associating such abilities with darkness and evil.
“Any questions before we begin?” Pranitha asked gently, meeting each of our gazes with confidence.
“What will happen if someone has taken a potion or used a ritual?” Cedric asked, raising his hand. His voice held a mix of confusion and curiosity.
Pranitha chuckled softly. “It depends on what they’ve used, my dear. Allow me to clarify. If a participant has used a potion to enhance their performance, and that potion is not illegal in their home country, points will simply be deducted. However, suppose the potion is illegal in their country of birth. In that case, I am legally required to report to their headmaster or headmistress and notify their ministry. They will handle it according to their laws.”
“What about rituals?” Fleur asked, her lips pursed as she leaned forward slightly.
“The same principles apply, Miss Delacour,” Pranitha laughed lightly. “For instance, some rituals are permitted in Durmstrang, and others are practiced within Veela covens. However, the key stipulation is that no participant may undergo a ritual after their name is drawn from the Goblet of Fire. Ritualistic magic leaves traces within the body, and I can determine when a ritual was performed based on those traces.”
Fleur exhaled softly, nodding. “Thank you for clarifying, Madam.”
“It’s no trouble at all, my dear,” Pranitha replied warmly, her kind smile calming everyone. “Now, who would like to go first? And would you prefer the inspection to be done privately or in front of everyone?”
Before she could continue, Dumbledore tapped my shoulder and motioned me to follow him outside the tent.
“Is there something wrong, Headmaster?” I asked with a frown, confused as to why he had singled me out.
“Mister Blake, be honest with me. Have you used any rituals in the past few days?” he asked seriously, his gaze sharp.
Opening my mouth in surprise, I raised an eyebrow at him. “Of course not. Professor Flitwick made sure I understood the risks back in my second year. Besides, there isn’t a book about rituals in the library—I know, I checked.”
I finished my sentence with a grumble. It always annoyed me that there was nothing useful about rituals in the library.
“And for good reason, my boy. You may believe I am exaggerating with the censorship, but I believe it is for the best.” Dumbledore said, shaking his head. “Are you telling the truth, then?”
“Of course I am, I have no reason to lie.” I replied firmly. “Why would you think I used something like that?”
Dumbledore raised a single eyebrow, looking at me as if was an idiot.
“Professor Flitwick was uncharacteristically tight-lipped about your lessons and seemed to take an unusual amount of joy in keeping us in suspense. I can see why now,” he said with a sigh. “I apologize for doubting you, my boy."
With a shake of his head, he continued, "It’s just that rituals have a certain allure, and I’d hate to lose such a promising student. Your changes caught me off guard, and I feared the worst. Your magic feels stronger now, remarkably so,” he added, his tone shifting as his sharp eyes studied me. “It feels… thick, potent, and… cold. It is completely different than when you joined the school, Mister Blake.”
I smiled wryly. I hadn’t thought much about it before, but if anyone could sense the depths of my changes, it had to be Dumbledore. He had known of me since I was a firstie, and my relationship with Iris made it that he focused on me more than other students.
“Let’s just say I’ve learned a lot about myself since the start of this year,” I said ruefully. “But it doesn’t change anything—I’ll keep doing what I’ve always done.”
“Oh? And what is that, my boy?” Dumbledore asked, rubbing his beard thoughtfully.
“Support Iris. What else?” I said with a grin.
That earned a chuckle from the scary headmaster. “Quite right, my boy. Quite right. Now, we should head back inside.”
As we returned, Madam Pranitha glanced up from her chair, her keen eyes narrowing slightly.
“Was there something wrong, Albus?” she asked.
Dumbledore waved his hand dismissively. “Not at all, my dear. Please, do continue.”
“It’s just this young man left,” the elderly healer chuckled. “The rest were brave enough to go through it before everyone.”
Dumbledore gave me a slight nudge from behind, and I approached the healer confidently.
“A pleasure to meet you, Madam,” I said with a calm smile. “What do I need to do?”
“A polite one,” she said with a raised eyebrow and a soft laugh. “Just stand still for a moment, young man.”
Nodding, I stayed still, letting her perform her diagnostic magic.
The healer waved her wand in my direction, moving it slowly from top to bottom.
I felt her magic enter my body—an invasive, uncomfortable sensation that made me frown and squirm.
I did not like this feeling at all.
"Arrey!" Madam Pranitha gasped suddenly, her wand slipping from her fingers and clattering to the floor.
The sound startled everyone in the room, and all eyes turned toward her. Madam Pranitha took an unsteady step back, sweat forming on her brow. Her breath came out in visible condensation puffs as though she were in a frozen tundra.
“Is something wrong, Pranitha?” Dumbledore’s voice broke the silence, sharp and commanding.
The healer’s gaze was settled on me, her expression mixed with confusion and awe. She took a deep breath but couldn’t entirely hide the slight tremble in her voice as she spoke.
“I’ve never felt anything like this,” she murmured, almost to herself.
Her eyes darted briefly to Dumbledore before returning to me. “What is your name, young man?”
“Elias Blake, ma’am,” I said softly, my confusion growing.
“A Muggle-born?” she asked, shaking her head with a disbelieving huff. “Rubbish, that makes no sense.”
She ignored the puzzled glances exchanged among the others in the tent and continued, “I’ve felt the magic of thousands of people in my lifetime, and never—not once—have I encountered anything like this. Your magic is potent, young man. Potent and… ancient.”
“What do you mean, Pranitha?” Dumbledore asked, his voice unusually serious.
The healer exhaled slowly, her composure returning little by little. “When my magic tried to connect with his, it pushed back. Strongly. It’s thick, cold, and brimming with power. Ancient power. It felt almost… alive.”
She looked at me again with a faint smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You could be one of the greats, young man—if you manage to live long enough.”
Karkaroff snorted dismissively. “So, do we deduct points, or are we finished here?”
Pranitha shot him a glare before shaking her head firmly. “I was surprised, that’s all. He’s clean, the tournament may proceed.”
Bagman clapped his hands. “Right then, let’s get started!”
Madam Pranitha sat in the back of the tent, her eyes lingering on me as Bagman explained the task.
I sighed as I waited for my turn to draw a dragon from the pouch, my thoughts spinning. Her words kept repeating in my mind. It made sense. The cryomancer bloodline from Mortal Kombat was ancient and powerful. And if my suspicions about my parentage were correct, I also carried Black family blood.
That had to be why I’d been almost comparable to Iris and Neville when we first started school. But now, with the cryomancer bloodline awakened in me, I had left them far behind in terms of magical capacity and quality.
Reaching into Bagman’s pouch, I groaned as I pulled out the miniature Hungarian Horntail. The tiny dragon hissed at me, its wings flapping aggressively.
Cedric and Fleur gave me pitying looks, though their concern seemed half-hearted. We all had far bigger worries on our minds.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “Your attention, please,” he began, his tone firm. “Due to the events during the selection process, we have decided to increase security measures in the stadium and adjust how the tasks will proceed.”
He paused, ensuring he had our full attention before continuing. “First of all, Aurors and dragon reserve handlers will be on standby in case of emergencies. However, if they are forced to intervene, points will be deducted from the respective participant’s score.”
Seeing our collective nods of understanding, he offered a small smile. “Additionally, each of you will be equipped with one of these,” he said, holding up four silver bracelets for us to see. “These are Portkeys, as you’re all familiar with.”
Dumbledore let the silence linger briefly before giving us each a Portkey. “To activate the Portkey, the participant simply needs to shout, ‘I give up.’ It will transport you to safety immediately. I also have the authority to activate the Portkey on your behalf if you cannot do so, but only as a last resort."
Looking at us seriously, he said, "The Aurors and handlers will only step in if you explicitly ask for their help. Is that clear?"
"Got it, Headmaster," I replied, a faint smile on my lips.
I didn’t plan on using the Portkey or calling for the Aurors, but knowing they were there if things went sideways did help settle my nerves. It was a precaution that should’ve been in place the first time around.
Dumbledore nodded, satisfied, and turned to Viktor Krum. “Mister Krum, it’s time to prepare. We’ll head to the podium shortly.”
“You have five minutes,” Percy interjected, cutting in with his newfound briskness. His pompousness has been enhanced since he started working for the ministry.
Dumbledore chuckled softly, shaking his head at Percy’s attitude.
“Good luck, Krum,” I said with a nod. “And be careful,”
Krum grunted in response, though his expression flickered with gratitude as he headed toward the staging area.
I returned to my seat, taking a slow breath and leaning back. Closing my eyes, I waited for my turn, trying to calm the nerves that churned in my stomach.
The blaring horn startled me, signaling Krum’s turn to face the dragon. Well… hopefully, no one dies.
“Mister Blake,” a melodious voice broke through my musings.
I opened my eyes to see Fleur Delacour standing nearby, her baby blue eyes studying me intently.
“Miss Delacour,” I greeted her with a polite nod. “Can I help you with something?”
She glanced at me over, her gaze appraising. Finally, she bit her lip and asked, “Are you not nervous?”
From the corner of my eye, I noticed Cedric paying close attention to our exchange, but I focused on Fleur. “I am,” I admitted quietly. “It’s a dragon, after all.”
Fleur huffed a soft laugh, covering her mouth delicately with her hand. “You seem the least nervous of all of us.”
“I’m confident in my ability to survive,” I met her gaze with a smile.
Her expression shifted slightly, her tone cooling. “prétentieux, are you?” she asked, raising an elegant eyebrow.
“I was simply wondering,” she continued, her voice tinted with irritation, “since you are the youngest among us.”
I tilted my head slightly, meeting Fleur’s sharp gaze. “Being the youngest doesn’t mean being the least prepared, Miss Delacour,” I said calmly, "I am quite good for my age."
Her lips pressed into a thin line as if weighing her response. “Perhaps,” she replied, folding her arms. “But preparation only goes so far when facing a dragon. Experience matters as well. You are just in fourth year, no?”
I nodded, taking her point. “You’re not wrong; experience does matter. But I’d rather focus on finding a way forward than getting stuck in fear.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, but I could sense her curiosity, “And you think that’s enough?”
“I do,” I said firmly. “You need confidence in situations like this. If I let doubt take hold, I might hesitate, and that split second could be the difference between returning from the task.”
Fleur studied me for a moment longer, her expression neutral. Then, to my surprise, her lips curved into a faint smile. “You are quite different from what I expected.”
“Thank you,” I replied, inclining my head slightly. “Though I must admit, I’m unsure whether that’s a compliment.”
Her smile widened, and her mischievousness reminded me of Iris. “Perhaps it is both. We shall see.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Fair enough. And what about you? Are you nervous?”
She hesitated, her confidence faltering for a brief moment. “It would be foolish not to be,” she admitted softly. “A dragon is no small challenge. Even for someone like me there is no guarantee.”
I nodded, appreciating her honesty. “True, but if anyone here has the skill and determination to face this, it’s you.”
Her eyes widened slightly, and she looked genuinely surprised for a moment. Then she regained her composure, tilting her head gracefully. “You are very sure of yourself, yet you seem to have no trouble complimenting others.”
“There’s no harm in recognizing someone else’s strength,” I said with a shrug. “Especially when it’s deserved. Besides, confidence doesn’t have to come at the expense of others.”
Fleur regarded me thoughtfully. “Like I said, you are… different from the rest,” she said. “I think I will enjoy seeing how you handle yourself.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, a slight smirk tugging at my lips. “And I’ll also look forward to seeing your performance, Miss Delacour.”
Her cheeks flushed faintly, but she didn’t break eye contact. “Bonne chance, Mister Blake,” she said, her voice softer now. “Do not let that confidence of yours get you killed.”
“And you, Miss Delacour,” I replied. “Try to keep your composure if your plan suffers a setback. Being extra careful never hurts.”
She glanced at me curiously before shaking her head, “I also had another question, mostly out of curiosity.”
Waving my hand at her, I motioned to continue.
“It was about some rumors inside the school,” she giggled, “Are they true?”
I shook my head; the rumor mill of Hogwarts entranced even the visitors.
“I haven’t paid much attention to anything besides training these past few weeks, Miss Delacour. I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re asking,” I chuckled.
“You probably get asked this a lot, Mister Blake,” she began.
“Please, call me Elias,” I said with a small smile. “Mister Blake feels like a mouthful.”
“Then you may call me Fleur,” she replied, a soft smile lighting her face. “It’s surprisingly refreshing to speak with a man who doesn’t turn into a blabbering fool after a few minutes.”
I nodded at her. “I can imagine it gets tiresome. But please, continue with your question.”
“It’s about… the girlfriends,” she said carefully. “I was quite surprised to see a polyamorous relationship outside of a Veela coven. And, from what I know of the British, I don’t believe such arrangements are common here.”
I laughed lightly. “Ah, that. You’re right; it’s not common in this country. Honestly, it just sort of happened.”
Across the tent, Cedric chuckled. “The whole school knew before you three did.”
I shot him a questioning look, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean, mate?”
“Were you really that blind, Elias?” he laughed. “Everyone’s been betting on when it’d become official. The twins have been running that betting pool since your second year.”
“What the hell?” I gaped at him. “We never even heard about this!”
“That’s the point,” he said with a grin. “No one was allowed to influence the bets. From what the twins told me, even some professors placed wagers.”
Fleur giggled beside me. “Hogwarts seems… interesting.”
“Fucking twins” I grumbled without any heat. “That explains why Madam Pomfrey was looking at us like that.”
I refocused on Fleur. “Anyway, back to your question. It just works. I like them; they like me, and we’ve been best friends since our first day of school. After everything we’ve been through together, it feels natural. There was no way I could choose between them.”
“If even a quarter of the things I’ve heard are true, I can understand that,” Cedric said, shaking his head in awe.
Fleur raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean?”
Cedric cleared his throat awkwardly at Fleur’s attention. “A Cerberus, the petrifications, dementors… I have no idea how they’re all still alive, to be honest.”
“A Cerberus?” Fleur’s voice went high-pitched. “What is going on in this school?”
“It’s been an adventure,” I said wryly. “But we’ve faced all of it together, and I hope we always will.” I finished with a small, fond smile.
“You love them,” Fleur said with quiet certainty.
“Oh? You sound very sure of that, Fleur.” I looked at her confusedly.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m a Veela. I can sense it, clear as day, when I look at you all.”
“Huh,” I murmured, shaking my head. “Well, you’re not wrong. They’re the most important people in my life.”
“That’s beautiful,” she murmured, her gaze intent.
I tilted my head. “What do you mean?”
“When you speak about them, your… aura, let’s call it that, fills with colors I’ve never seen before,” she explained.
Cheers erupted outside the tent, and the flaps rustled as Krum limped inside with his golden egg in all his shining glory. He had seen better days. Krum was bleeding a lot from his shoulder, and part of his leg was burned pretty badly.
“You good, mate?” Cedric asked, quickly standing to help him.
Madam Pomfrey and Pranitha rushed over, guiding Krum to a table and beginning their work.
“Who’s next?” I asked, glancing at Cedric and Fleur. "I was not paying attention."
“Me,” Cedric muttered, his nerves showing.
“You’ll be fine, Cedric,” I reassured him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Have some confidence.”
Moments later, the horn sounded again. Cedric squared his shoulders and walked out toward the stadium.
“And now the time is getting closer,” I teased Fleur with a grin.
“Shut up,” she huffed, rolling her eyes. “I don’t understand how you can joke right now.”
“I’m just that good,” I smirked.
----------------------------
Cedric returned shortly after, portkeyed with a nasty burn on his side. The healers worked quickly, and the worst of the injury seemed manageable. Fleur left for her task shortly after, and the tent was quiet again. I sat, starting to feel faint traces of nervousness. I squashed them immediately.
“Madam Pranitha?” I called, catching the older healer’s attention.
She turned to me with a gentle smile. “Yes, dear? How can I help you?”
“My girlfriend, Iris, is a Parselmouth,” I began. “We’ve been trying to figure out how she can practice and improve, but there’s been nothing helpful in the school.”
Pranitha’s eyebrows rose. “That is surprising. Parseltongue is quite rare in these lands.”
“It’s a shame people see it as a curse,” I said with a shake. “But Iris and I both know it can be a gift. I was hoping you might have advice.”
“Parselmouth is indeed a powerful gift,” she said thoughtfully. “It’s handy in curse-breaking and healing magic. The language amplifies certain spells and enables feats that would otherwise be impossible.”
“How should she start learning?” I asked. “I’m worried we’ll never find proper guidance.”
“I’m not surprised Hogwarts hasn’t been helpful,” she huffed. “But I can give her some pointers, for a price, of course.”
Rolling my eyes at the healer, I shrugged. “Let’s hear it first before I make any decisions. As long as you’re not asking for blood.”
“The thought did cross my mind,” Pranitha admitted with a chuckle. “But you seem to have a good head on your shoulders, and I wouldn’t want to sour your opinion of me.”
She took a deep breath, her expression turning serious. “I must admit, I can’t stop wondering what happened with your magic. I find it… fascinating, and I’m quite interested in learning more. If it’s possible, I’d like to study it.”
I frowned deeply, my guard rising. I didn’t know this woman at all, and there was no way I could trust her with information about my bloodline without some insurance.
“I don’t know you, Madam Pranitha,” I replied evenly. “And I don’t know what you’d do with any information you glean from me.”
She nodded softly, her demeanor remaining calm. “I understand your hesitation, Mister Blake. Trust isn’t given lightly, especially concerning something as personal as magic. If it would ease your worries, I could make a vow or sign a binding contract.”
“That could work,” I admitted cautiously, though I couldn’t help but smile as I saw the sheer excitement lighting up her face. Her glee was childlike for someone her age.
“I’ll speak with the headmaster before deciding,” I said politely. “Thanks to his official post, I’m sure he can help me ensure nothing bad comes of this.”
“That’s perfectly fine with me, my boy,” she said brightly, her smile wide. “Albus knows me well enough to vouch for my intentions. I’ll await your decision.”
“Will you be staying on school grounds after today’s task?” I asked.
“I believe I will,” she replied with a thoughtful nod. “Albus asked for my assistance in the infirmary, and to be honest, nothing of importance is happening in the world right now. I don’t mind spending half a year here. And now, I have even more reason to stay since I might get to study you.”
Her almost crazed enthusiasm sent a shiver down my spine. She was genuinely eager to learn about me—perhaps too enthusiastic.
Cheers erupted from outside the tent, and a minute later, Fleur entered, clutching the golden egg tightly. She had a limp, and the skin on the side of her leg was raw and burned, but that seemed to be her only injury.
Krum had already stormed out earlier, brooding as usual, and Cedric had been put to sleep to recover from his injuries. That left only Madam Pomfrey, Madam Pranitha, and me to receive Fleur.
Even injured, Fleur couldn’t hide the pride she felt in her performance. Yet there was a shadow of disappointment in her expression as well.
“Good job, Fleur,” I said, stepping forward to help her inside as the healers prepared a bed for her.
“How do you feel?” I asked with a grin. “Confident in your victory?”
She grinned back, a flicker of her usual confidence shining through. “I will get first place.”
“We’ll see,” I chuckled, “I think it’s time to show the world what I’m worth.”
My blood surged with anticipation, my magic stirring deep within, alive and restless. It answered Madam Pranitha’s earlier question, something had changed when I became a cryomancer, but I had no knowledge to notice the differences without someone pointing it out.
I felt better than ever, more confident than I’d ever been.
As I let my magic flow in preparation, it hummed through me, brushing against my skin like a living force seeking release. The air around me seemed to thrum in response. The healers stiffened, and Fleur, sitting nearby, watched me with her mouth hanging open. The faint shimmer of my magic was impossible to ignore, and for the first time, I reveled in it.
"Ah," I breathed out, "It feels so good to let go."
Today wasn’t just about surviving, it was about claiming my place in the world. I could already imagine the attention this performance would bring. Some would call it arrogance, but I didn’t care. If Voldemort wanted me dead, he could try himself. For now, I knew I couldn’t defeat him, but at the rate I was growing, I’d make sure he wouldn’t find it so easy to kill me by the third task. I was going to make him suffer for everything he had done.
No. After today, they would all know my name.
As I entered the arena, the crowd's roar hit me like a tidal wave. Gryffindors cheered the loudest, their voices a resounding with support. I instinctively found Iris and Hermione sitting alongside Luna and Ginny in the stands. Iris and Ginny waved a sign with my name scrawled across it in bold letters, their faces filled with encouragement.
Hermione, ever the reserved one, was not doing anything overt, but thanks to my new sight, I could see how she was clutching her seat.
Across the field, the Slytherins jeered, their boos venomous.
Malfoy’s smug face stood out in the crowd, his sneer easy to see. I wonder how much he had to use his influence to manage something like this. While a lot of the Slytherins were bigots, they usually were more reserved than this.
Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were mixed, some clapped and cheered, others seemed less convinced. But I didn’t care. Right now, their opinions were as insignificant as the wind.
I drew a deep breath, letting the crowd's noise fade into the background. My lips curled into a small smile as I waved toward my girls. Their grins widened. That moment of connection was all I needed to focus myself.
“Ah, here comes our final champion, Elias Blake!” Ludo Bagman’s voice boomed across the stadium, amplified by magic. His tone was overly eager, almost obnoxious. “The youngest of the group, but don’t let his age fool you, folks. He’s already made waves at Hogwarts as one of the brightest students in his year. But will he rise to the occasion, or will the dragon prove too much for him? Let’s find out!”
The crowd erupted once more, their cheers deafening. But then, a deep, guttural snarl cut through the noise, silencing them all.
The dragon.
My breath hitched as I looked at the nesting Hungarian Horntail. It glared at me atop the clutch of eggs, her massive body coiled protectively around her treasures. Smoke curled lazily from her nostrils, and her golden eyes locked onto me with anger.
Her wings unfurled, stretching wide and casting a shadow covered half the arena. The sight was breathtaking, a stark reminder of the creature’s power. The Horntail let out another snarl, the vibrations from her growl traveling through the earth and into my bones.
Spikes lined the tail, each one sharp enough to kill me. One swing of that tail could shatter the average adult shielding charm.
I clenched my fists, sharpening my senses as the familiar adrenaline rush took hold. Battlefield instincts, the perk I’d honed through relentless training thanks to the girls and professor Flitwick, kicked in, assessing my surroundings with detachment. The dragon was magnificent and deadly, but it wasn’t unbeatable.
Just as my genius girlfriend said, Ice. Ice would be my best chance. The heat from Power Through Pain would not be enough.
The moment the whistle blew, the Hungarian Horntail roared, a deafening sound that sent chills down the spines of everyone in the stands. Her golden eyes narrowed on me as she unfurled her massive wings, lifting its bulk slightly off the ground. Smoke billowed from her nostrils as she glared in my direction.
I didn’t wait for it to make the first move. My wand flicked upward, sending a jet of ice-blue light toward the ground beneath me. Frost spiraled outward in jagged patterns, forming a solid sheet of Ice that spread across the entire arena. The dragon hesitated momentarily, she did not have solid ground to attack.
“Come on,” I muttered, a smirk tugging at my lips. My blood was singing, my magic moving in anticipation. This was it.
The Horntail growled and lunged, the tail whipping around with terrifying speed. I dove to the side, the spiked tail crashing into the Ice where I’d stood a heartbeat before. My wand moved in a blur, conjuring a barrier of frost that erupted from the ground in a jagged wall. The dragon’s tail smashed into it, cracking the Ice but not breaking through.
It had taken a long while, but now my ice constructs were strong enough to block something of this level.
With a flick of my wrist, the frost barrier shattered into sharp shards that shot toward the dragon. It roared in fury, swinging its head to deflect them. One shard grazed its cheek, leaving a thin trail of frostbite in its wake.
The crowd erupted in cheers, but I tuned them out, focusing entirely on the beast before me. I did not have the opportunity to lose focus.
The Horntail inhaled sharply, her chest expanding as she prepared to unleash a torrent of flame. I didn’t give her a chance. My wand slashed downward, and a wave of freezing mist shot toward its mouth. The fire died in its throat, replaced by a choking growl as the frost numbed its jaws.
The wave froze everything in its path, the floor glinting under the sun like a beautiful snowflake.
The dragon reared back, shaking her head violently, but I was already moving. I slid across the Ice, my magic propelling me forward in a controlled glide. Moving my wand downward, a cloak of mist flew out of it to block the vision from the beast, but more importantly, the crowd's.
My wand traced an arc through the air, and a frozen clone of myself emerged from the frost, standing between me and the dragon. Using my wand was unnecessary, but I wanted everyone to believe I just learned some lost spells or something, instead of what I was really capable of.
The Horntail’s eyes locked onto the clone, lashing out with its claws, swiping through the illusion with a frustrated snarl. As it did, I leaped onto its back, my feet landing lightly on the cold spikes of its scales. A quick sticking charm made sure I would not fall that easily.
“Let’s see how you like this,” I muttered, aiming my wand downward. A pulse of cold magic shot from the tip, freezing the dragon’s wings in a sheath of Ice. It bucked beneath me, trying to shake me off, but I held firm, using my free hand to grip one of its spines.
The dragon twisted violently, and I was forced to leap off, landing in a crouch as it turned to face me. Its wings shattered the Ice, encasing them with a single powerful flap, and it roared in fury.
“That was scary,” I muttered, wiping the sweat from my brow. “But I’m just getting started.”
The dragon charged, its claws digging into the Ice for traction. I slammed my wand into the ground, and a massive spire of Ice erupted in its path, forcing it to skid to a halt. I followed up with a sweeping motion, sending a wave of frost that coated its legs in thick, unyielding Ice.
The Horntail roared, trying to free itself, but I was already moving again. I raised my wand high, and sharp spears of Ice formed above me, hovering ominously. With a flick, I sent them hurtling toward the dragon, each one aimed at the weak points I learned from all my perks.
It thrashed wildly, breaking free of the Ice around its legs just in time to dodge most spears. But one struck true, embedding itself in the thick muscle of her shoulder. The beast howled, its movements growing more erratic.
The tail whipped toward me again, faster this time. I conjured another ice wall, but the tail smashed through this time, sending shards flying in all directions. One clipped my shoulder, and I groaned in pain but didn’t falter.
I focused in my healing energy as I moved it toward my injured shoulder, hissing at the itchiness, but despite that I grinned victoriously.
The dragon rose, her wings flaring wide as it prepared to take flight. I couldn’t let that happen. With a burst of magic, I froze the air around its wings, weighing them down with thick layers of Ice. She stumbled, unable to lift off, and I seized the opportunity.
Channeling every ounce of my magic, I slammed my wand again into the ground. The Ice beneath the dragon erupted in jagged spikes, encasing its legs and tail in a prison of frost. The beast roared, its movements slowing as the cold sapped its strength.
I stood tall, breathing heavily but grinning as the Horntail struggled against the icy bonds. With a final flick of my wand, I froze the air around its head, forming a shimmering cage of frost that forced it to lower its head in submission.
The crowd exploded into cheers, the sound deafening. I turned to face them, raising my wand high in triumph. My magic still thrummed in my veins, but I reined it in, letting the Ice around the dragon slowly melt as the handlers approached.
Grinning widely, I first glanced at the Gryffindor group, savoring the hunger in Iris's gaze and the thinly veiled want from Hermione. Ginny bit her lip, her eyes fixed on me, while Luna beamed, clapping her hands enthusiastically.
I let my gaze drift away from the Gryffindors, then turned it toward the Slytherins. The stands were eerily quiet, and I couldn’t help but savor the silence.
Oh... I was starting to enjoy this. They will learn to be careful around me in the future.
With a smirk, I lifted my hand and waved at the judges, relishing the shock and awe written across their faces. Dumbledore’s expression remained serious, but the respect in his eyes was unmistakable. I’d surpassed his expectations, and the reactions were more than worth it.
Finally, I turned my attention back to the dragon. A sigh of relief escaped me when I saw it unconscious, lying motionless on the ground. A bunch of Dragon handlers waving their wands around the beast to ensure she would survive.
I hoped I hadn’t injured it too seriously. The beast didn’t deserve to be part of this tournament, especially not with the eggs at risk.
With no immediate danger left, I made my way toward the eggs, a smile tugging at my lips as I saw them untouched and safe. Grabbing the Golden Egg, I walked back to the tent, enjoying the cheers of everyone in the stadium.
After today, my name will mean something.
300 CP awarded.
