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Harry Potter and the Silent Guardian : Ch. 235
🕑 Added 2024-09-18 18:59:28 +0000 UTCChapter 235: "Preparations for the First Task"
The morning of November 24th dawned crisp and clear, a deceptively beautiful day for such a perilous event. As the sun climbed higher, excitement rippled through Hogwarts like a living entity. Students and staff alike made their way down to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where a massive arena had materialized overnight, a testament to the power of magic.
The newly constructed stadium was a marvel of magical engineering. Towering stands surrounded a rocky enclosure, the perfect stage for the impending clash between champions and dragons. As spectators filed in, the air buzzed with anticipation and the faint scent of smoke, a portent of the fiery spectacle to come.
In the champions' tent, Harry stood with Krum, Fleur, and Charles. The atmosphere was tense, each lost in their own thoughts as they prepared for the challenge ahead. Harry observed his fellow champions: Krum's surly expression betrayed a hint of nervousness, Fleur's usual grace was tinged with anxiety, and Charles... his younger brother looked pale but determined.
Before Ludo Bagman could enter with his purple silk bag, Harry stepped out of the tent, a determined look etched on his face. He had a mission - to prevent an overlooked tragedy from the original timeline, one that had been carelessly disregarded by everyone else.
With purposeful strides, Harry approached the judges' table, where Dumbledore, Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, and Barty Crouch Sr. sat, engrossed in a serious conversation. Their voices hushed as Harry drew near, four pairs of eyes turning to regard him with varying degrees of curiosity and suspicion.
"Excuse me," Harry said, his voice polite but firm, "I have a concern about the task that I believe needs to be addressed immediately."
The judges looked at him with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he asked, "And what might that be, Mr. Potter?"
Harry took a deep breath, steeling himself. "I understand the task involves retrieving something precious that the dragon guards. Will the dragon be alone, or will it be guarding its eggs?"
The reaction was immediate and intense. Madame Maxime's eyes narrowed suspiciously, her large frame seeming to grow even more imposing. "'Ow do you know so much about ze task, Monsieur Potter?" she demanded, her French accent thickening with her agitation. "It should 'ave been a secret!"
Before Harry could respond, Karkaroff jumped in, his dark eyes flashing with accusation. "Yes, Dumbledore," he sneered, stroking his goatee. "Is Hogwarts cheating? I call for the disqualification of Potter!"
The tension at the table was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. But Harry remained calm, his posture relaxed yet confident. When he spoke, his voice was steady and clear, cutting through the accusations like a well-honed blade.
"You're mistaken, Headmasters," he said, meeting each of their gazes in turn. "No one helped me. I found and deduced everything on my own." He paused, allowing his words to sink in before adding, "I can't say the same about other champions."
The implication hung in the air, causing Karkaroff to shift uncomfortably and Madame Maxime to purse her lips. Harry continued, his voice taking on a more urgent tone, "I heard about Hagrid's visit to the dragon enclosure a few days ago, and there were some... unexpected visitors with him." He let that information settle, watching as the judges exchanged meaningful glances. "But that's not why I'm here. Are there going to be real eggs involved?"
Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully, his blue eyes piercing as he regarded Harry. "Yes, Mr. Potter. The champions will have to collect a special golden egg from a nest of real eggs."
Harry's face grew serious, his green eyes darkening with concern. "Then my fears are confirmed," he said, his voice low but intense. "Using real eggs poses an unnecessary risk. If they're accidentally destroyed during the confrontation, it would be a terrible loss for such a rare and endangered species."
The judges exchanged glances, clearly taken aback by Harry's concern. Barty Crouch Sr. frowned, his brow furrowing. "Mr. Potter, the use of real eggs is essential to ensure the dragons' protective instincts are fully engaged. It's crucial for the challenge of the task."
Harry stood his ground, unwavering in his conviction. "With all due respect, sir, I believe the risk outweighs the benefit. As a participant, I feel it's my duty to point this out. If something were to go wrong, the blame shouldn't fall on the champions."
At that moment, a flash of acid-green caught Harry's eye. Rita Skeeter had sidled up to the group, her Quick-Quotes Quill poised and ready, hungry for scandal. Harry suppressed a smile; her presence might just work in his favor.
"Perhaps," Harry continued, gesturing subtly towards Rita, "we should consider the public reaction if rare dragon eggs were to be destroyed in what is essentially a school competition."
The effect of his words, combined with Rita's presence, was immediate and profound. The judges shifted uncomfortably in their seats, clearly aware of the potential PR disaster looming before them. Dumbledore's brow furrowed as he stroked his beard, his mind visibly working through the implications.
After a moment of tense silence, Dumbledore spoke, his voice grave. "You raise a valid point, Mr. Potter," he said. Then, raising his voice slightly, he called out, "Mr. Brown, could you join us please?"
The head dragon handler, a stocky man with burns on his arms, jogged over. His face was flushed with excitement, but it quickly turned to concern as Dumbledore explained Harry's fears.
Brown's brow furrowed deeply as he listened. When Dumbledore finished, he shook his head, a mix of frustration and worry evident in his expression. "I mentioned this to Mr. Bagman long ago," he said, his voice gruff with suppressed emotion. "But he insisted that without the real eggs, the task wouldn't be exciting enough." He turned to Harry, a look of respect in his eyes. "I share Mr. Potter's views. If anything happened to those eggs, it would be a catastrophe. Dragons are already endangered as it is."
Harry, emboldened by the support, turned to face the judges directly. His voice took on a passionate tone as he spoke. "I understand the need for challenge," he said, his green eyes blazing with intensity, "but surely the safety of endangered species should take precedence. I'm merely pointing out that if something goes wrong, the responsibility should lie with the organizers, not the champions." As he spoke, he glanced meaningfully at Rita Skeeter, who was scribbling furiously, her eyes alight with the promise of a juicy story.
The judges huddled together, whispering urgently. After what seemed like an eternity, they broke apart.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, his blue eyes twinkling with what looked like approval. "Mr. Potter, your concern is appreciated and, indeed, valid. We have decided to use artificial eggs for this task."
Harry nodded, satisfied. As he turned to leave, he overheard Karkaroff muttering to Crouch, "We'll bring the real eggs first, then switch them out just before the task begins. The dragons won't notice with all the commotion."
Pretending not to have heard, Harry returned to the champions' tent, a small smile playing on his lips. He had achieved his goal - the rare dragon eggs would be safe.
As he re-entered the tent, the other champions looked at him curiously, but before any questions could be asked, Ludo Bagman burst in. His round face was flushed with excitement, his lurid yellow robes clashing horribly with the tent's subdued colors.
"Well, now we're all here - time to fill you in!" Bagman announced brightly, his voice booming in the confined space. He held up a small sack of purple silk, shaking it enticingly. The soft rustle of whatever was inside added to the tension in the air. "When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag, from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different - er - varieties, you see."
He paused for dramatic effect, his eyes roving over each champion's face. "And I have to tell you something else too... ah, yes... your task is to collect the golden egg!"
One by one, the champions reached into the bag. Fleur went first, her delicate hand emerging with the Welsh Green. Krum followed, drawing the Chinese Fireball. As Harry stepped forward, Crouch suddenly spoke up.
"Perhaps young Mr. Potter should go next," Crouch suggested, a strange glint in his eye. "He is, after all, the youngest."
Harry's eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded graciously. "Of course, Charles, go ahead."
Harry now knew why he had the inkling he would be against the Horntail. The Crouch under disguise wanted him to fight the more difficult dragon and give the easier one to Charles. However, Harry had no problems with this, so he decided to let Charles go ahead.
Charles reached in, his hand trembling slightly, and pulled out the Swedish Short-Snout. The blue-gray dragon in his palm puffed a small jet of flame, causing Charles to nearly drop it.
Finally, it was Harry's turn. Now certain of what awaited him, he calmly reached into the bag and drew out the last dragon - the Hungarian Horntail. The miniature beast was as fierce as its full-sized counterpart, its black scales gleaming in the tent's dim light. It snapped at Harry's fingers, tiny teeth glinting dangerously.
Despite its ferocity, Harry found himself oddly drawn to the little creature. An idea began to form in his mind - with a bit of transfiguration and some permanent enchantments, this could make a delightful and unique toy for young Aries.
As the champions awaited their turns, the roar of the crowd outside grew steadily louder. The excitement was palpable, seeping through the tent walls and adding to the nervous energy within. Each champion retreated into their own thoughts, no doubt running through strategies and spells in their minds.
