The first task of the Triwizard Tournament wouldn't begin until after Halloween.
In Dumbledore's words, the first task was very mysterious and required some special items that were currently being transported.
Harry wasn't curious; he planned to keep a bit of mystery so it could surprise him during the competition.
During a Potions class before Halloween, they were assigned by Snape to process pickled rat heads together.
"I think Harry's first task definitely isn't as hard as the job Snape assigned us," Ron grumbled after class. "I'd rather fight a dragon bare-handed than deal with rat heads in his gloomy little dungeon."
"I think so too."
Hermione's voice rang out at the same time as a greasy, drawling one.
Ron whipped around in horror, and sure enough, there stood Snape, smiling.
"Professor..."
The boy stood at attention—courtesy of Ron.
"It seems you like dragons very much, Weasley," Snape said silkily. "Perhaps I can apply to Dumbledore to transfer you to Romania to raise dragons with another Weasley?"
At that, Snape twitched his lips.
"Five points from Gryffindor."
He offered no further explanation; points deducted were points deducted, no need to explain why to you.
After Snape swept away, Hermione finally let out a long breath, as if emerging from the depths of hell.
"Ron!" she whispered. "Have you forgotten? You have the jinx effect! Why would you dare say something like that in public?"
"I forgot," Ron said, scrunching up his face. He truly regretted it.
On the Saturday before Halloween, they were approved to visit Hogsmeade.
"It'll be good to get out and relax," Ron said. "Harry's about to face the first task; I think we should go with him to unwind."
"But Harry now..." Hermione turned back, glancing at Harry, who was being mobbed by a crowd. "The situation's a bit dire. I believe if he makes it to Hogsmeade, he'll definitely be swarmed by enthusiastic classmates."
As soon as she finished speaking, a frenzied Ravenclaw upper-year girl pounced, planting a firm kiss on Harry's face.
"Hey!" Harry yelped, a strawberry now clearly planted on his cheek.
The other girls followed suit, swarming to peck at Harry's cheeks and his fair neck.
After a while, Harry finally broke free.
His glasses were broken, hanging limply, and his robes were torn into strips, making him look utterly wretched.
He didn't look like a Hogwarts student anymore; he resembled someone who'd fought their way out of a zombie horde.
"Too terrifying, women," Harry said, still shaken.
"I actually think you were enjoying it," Hermione said, frowning. "With your skills, if you wanted to run, you would've escaped long ago."
"Isn't it because I was afraid of hurting my classmates?" Harry began casting Scourgify on his glasses and clothes.
But Ron suddenly spoke up, making Harry's heart sink.
"I don't think that's the scariest part," Ron critiqued sharply. "The scariest is what you'll say tonight when you see Miss Grindelwald on your phone."
What a great question—Harry was instantly stunned.
Yeah, if Veratia found out tonight that he'd been grabbed by Ravenclaw girls and kissed furiously...
Her fury would probably purify everything, right?
But just then, Ron's owl, Pigwidgeon, flew in.
This owl was bought for Ron by Mrs. Weasley after Scabbers... that is, Peter Pettigrew, was caught.
To prevent Ron from always thinking of Scabbers, or rather, to stop him from using an owl's rat-catching abilities to avoid rats.
"Pig?"
Ron reached out to catch the letter Pigwidgeon delivered, opened it, and his face went white.
"Oh no... Merlin's pants... Merlin's holy Jesus!"
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked with concern.
"It's a letter from Charlie!" Ron whispered. He looked up, glanced around warily, then lowered his head again. "Charlie says he's coming to Hogwarts from Romania!"
"So what?" Hermione asked, puzzled. "Didn't you see him over the summer? Why are you so excited?"
"He told me! The first task involves dragons!" Ron said, his face pale. "Dragons! My Merlin's robes, he says it's no joke because he's bringing several kinds: a Chinese Fireball, a Common Welsh Green, a Swedish Short-Snout, and a Hungarian Horntail!"
"How could that be!" Hermione quickly pulled them both into a corner, confirmed no one was around, then scratched her head and asked, "The first task involves dragons? I really don't know what the Triwizard Tournament is up to. Are they going to have the champions defeat dragons? That's suicidal!"
"Not necessarily," Harry said suddenly. "I think the task just involves dragons; it's impossible for the champions to fully defeat one—you know, even elite Aurors couldn't do that!"
"There are other possibilities," Hermione said worriedly.
Because of the dragon incident, Hermione didn't organize a trip to Hogsmeade; instead, she spent the whole day in the library, searching for books on dragons.
She compiled a table listing the habits of various dragons, along with their preferences and weaknesses.
"We have to learn to win with wisdom." Those were Hermione's exact words.
Halloween arrived quickly. This time, Hogwarts didn't hold a costume ball; instead, they prepared a sumptuous feast for everyone.
The professors seemed to have other matters to attend to; most didn't join the banquet.
In the evening, Harry was called over by Poppy.
"Harry." Poppy hugged his arm, clamping it as she pulled him aside.
Harry let Poppy drag him along. In the corner, Poppy said sneakily, "I already know the first task—it's related to dragons. Newt told me; he's gone to take care of those dragons now—Merlin, he's thrilled; so many dragons, and even Tina went with him."
"I already know, but thanks," Harry said, letting Poppy bury her face in him.
He took a deep breath and kissed her flushed cheek.
"Ah!" Poppy covered her face and exclaimed, "You little rascal!"
"Oh, then I won't kiss you anymore," Harry said deliberately.
"No way!" Poppy blurted out. "I just like little rascals..."
"Hahahaha..."
They fooled around laughing for a bit, then Harry suddenly asked, "Isn't this unfair? Telling me the task content in advance..."
Poppy looked at him pityingly and said, "You're such a fool, Harry... Karkaroff has already arrived at the dragons' temporary base. Do you think the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang champions won't know all this?"
"You're right," Harry realized.
"Come on," Poppy said to Harry. "I'll take you to see."
The two used the Disillusionment Charm to hide their traces and headed out of the castle together.
Just as they passed Hagrid's hut, they saw Hagrid seeming to talk to someone.
"Something's up!"
Harry's gossip instincts kicked in; he even forgot about going with Poppy to see the dragons.
"Oh, isn't that Madame Maxime?" Poppy said interestedly beside him. "Looks like they're going on a date?"
"Follow them and see!" Harry said.
They trailed behind the pair. Madame Maxime and Hagrid were so tall, striding forward with long legs, "thud thud thud."
In comparison, Poppy and Harry could only scurry "pit pat pit pat" to keep up.
They skirted the edge of the Forbidden Forest, passed the Black Lake, and finally arrived at a temporarily set-up camp.
Harry pricked up his ears; he seemed to hear something.
A few men up ahead were shouting loudly... then came a deafening, shrill roar.
Hagrid led Madame Maxime around a clump of trees and stopped.
Harry grabbed Poppy's hand and hurried to follow, standing hand-in-hand with them— in that brief moment, he thought he saw several campfires, men jumping around them— then he saw the familiar creatures.
Dragons.
Dragons— he and Poppy's most thrilling adventure had been rescuing one from poachers.
Poppy seemed to recall that shared adventure too; she squeezed Harry's hand tighter.
"Poppy," Harry whispered. "Remember?"
"Of course," Poppy said with a beaming smile, groping to hug Harry.
The girl's body was soft and undulating; Harry wasn't oblivious to the mood and wrapped his arm around her waist in return.
Not exactly slender—that was just in comparison to Veratia; that woman's figure was already a bit inhuman.
"Take a look at the guys you'll be facing," Poppy whispered.
Harry looked again: four fiercely vicious adult dragons were confined in an enclosure of thick wooden planks, standing on their hind legs, roaring intermittently, snorting heavily— bursts of flame shot from their fanged, gaping mouths into the dark night sky, their necks arched high, mouths fifty feet off the ground.
A silvery-blue one with long, pointed horns was raging and roaring at the wizards in the enclosure; a smooth-scaled green dragon was twisting and stomping desperately; another red one, with a bizarre fringe of fine spikes around its face, was shooting mushroom-shaped fire clouds into the air; and finally a black giant, more dinosaur-like than the others, the closest to them.
At least thirty wizards were on the ground, seven or eight handling each dragon. They yanked chains, desperately trying to subdue the four beasts, the chains linked to thick leather straps around the dragons' legs and necks. Harry was utterly stunned. He looked up high and saw the black dragon's eyes, with vertical cat-like pupils, bulging—whether from fear or anger... The black dragon emitted a terrifying sound, a shrill and piercing wail...
"Stay there, don't move, Hagrid!" a wizard near the fence shouted, gripping his chain tightly. "They can breathe fire twenty feet, you know! I've seen this Horntail do forty!"
"Beautiful, aren't they?" Hagrid said softly.
"No use!" another wizard yelled. "Stunning Spells—on three, together!"
Harry saw each dragon handler draw their wand.
"So brutal," Poppy whispered. "There are better ways."
Thanks to the Disillusionment Charm, Harry couldn't see Poppy's form.
He reached up and seemed to grab something vital.
But he didn't pull back; he was bold now, even giving it a pinch.
"Not everyone has your affinity, Poppy," Harry whispered. "They can only use this dumb method."
"Mm." Poppy's voice was mosquito-thin, but Harry knew she must be blushing furiously.
"Stupefy!"
At that moment, the wizards shouted in unison; Stunning Spells shot like rockets into the black night, sparks bursting like a shower onto the dragons' scaly hides—
Harry watched the dragon closest to them wobble on its hind legs, mouth agape in a silent roar, flames in its nostrils suddenly extinguishing but still smoking— then, very slowly, it collapsed. The several-ton, sturdy, black-scaled beast crashed to the ground.
The earth trembled with it.
The handlers lowered their wands and approached the fallen dragons, each like a small hill.
They hurriedly tightened the chains, securing them firmly to iron stakes, then used wands to drive the stakes deep into the ground.
"Want to get closer?" Hagrid asked Madame Maxime excitedly.
The two walked toward the fence, and Harry pulled Poppy's hand to follow. The wizard who had warned Hagrid earlier turned around—Harry recognized him as Charlie Weasley.
"How's that, Hagrid?" he panted, coming over to talk. "They should be fine now—we dosed them with sleeping draughts; they slept the whole way here. Thought waking in the quiet night would be easier on them— but as you saw, they're not happy, not one bit—"
"I'm not happy either," Harry whispered. "Look at this: such important intel, and the first person Hagrid thinks of is Madame Maxime. Isn't this aiding the enemy? No, this is beyond ordinary aiding the enemy!"
Poppy giggled, reaching to stroke Harry's chest lightly, saying nothing, just stroking gently.
"Mr. Crouch! Mr. Crouch!"
An anxious voice called. Harry looked over: a Ministry official.
She was calling Mr. Crouch, who was talking with the person in charge in the camp.
Mr. Crouch emerged from a tent, asking gravely, "What is it? Has Bertha been found?"
"No!" the official gasped. "Message just came from the Ministry: the Austrian Ministry of Magic has announced a merger with the German Ministry of Magic!"
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