Chapter 311. The Tournament Begins and Galleons
Roskin was not surprised by Adrian Wesson's arrival.
She happily accepted the task of taking Adrian Wesson on a tour of the carriage.
Once the two of them left the sitting room, Fleur finally managed to ask the question on her mind.
"Was it you who invited Professor Wesson, Madame Maxime?"
"Hmm? Not me," Madame Maxime smiled slightly, turning her gaze to Gabrielle. "It was your sister's idea—Gabrielle?"
Fleur was a little surprised. These past few days, because she had been preparing for the tournament, she hadn't paid much attention to Gabrielle at all; Roskin had been the one looking after her.
When had her sister got involved with a Hogwarts professor?
She went over and crouched before Gabrielle, displeased. "Gabrielle, I believe I reminded you not to have too much contact with outsiders. It could be dangerous. Especially for us."
"But Professor Wesson is a good person," Gabrielle said with a pout. "Professor Roskin said so as well."
Fleur sighed softly.
Of course she trusted Roskin's judgement; they had been in contact for quite a while.
But she and Gabrielle's identities were particularly sensitive.
To many vile Dark wizards, those of their half-Veela heritage made excellent experimental subjects.
That was why she had sent Gabrielle to study at Beauxbatons so early—Beauxbatons could keep them safe.
"Sister," Gabrielle suddenly said, "there's no problem with Professor Wesson. He even told me some news about the tournament."
"What tournament?"
Madame Maxime, standing to the side, frowned, a trace of vigilance in her eyes.
"The Triwizard Tournament," Gabrielle blinked. "Professor Wesson told me the first task of the Triwizard Tournament will have to do with dragons."
At that, Madame Maxime and Fleur exchanged a look, and each saw disbelief in the other's eyes.
This…
Madame Maxime let out a sigh.
All that effort she had spent coaxing information from Hagrid—was it all for nothing?
Meanwhile, Adrian Wesson was strolling leisurely through the carriage with Roskin as his guide.
No doubt Gabrielle had already passed the news on to Madame Maxime.
Adrian Wesson smiled faintly.
Naturally he knew Madame Maxime had already got the dragon information from Hagrid.
So there was absolutely no problem with letting Gabrielle know as well.
Besides, Gabrielle was genuinely quite adorable.
On 24 November—the day of the task.
Starting yesterday—perhaps because everyone knew what the task would be—the three schools' champions had all stopped appearing in public, tacitly preparing for the task; even Harry was the same.
The professors, by tacit agreement, excused Harry and Cedric from classes so they could properly adjust their state; even Snape did so.
At midday, Harry sat in the Great Hall, absent-mindedly eating roast beef.
The task would begin in the afternoon.
It would be impossible not to be nervous—after all, he was representing the whole of Hogwarts.
Though there was still some time left, excitement was already spreading through the Great Hall.
From time to time, students passed by Harry, patting him on the shoulder or murmuring a quick "good luck."
Even students from other Houses came over—like Cho Chang from Ravenclaw—
Merlin knew how nervous he was at that moment.
At last, the time came; Professor McGonagall came in through the doors and hurried towards him.
"Potter," she said, "the champions are to go to the grounds now to complete the first task. I hope you are prepared."
Harry nodded solemnly, then turned his gaze towards the Hufflepuff table.
Like Professor McGonagall, Adrian Wesson was speaking to Cedric about something.
Presumably he was also informing him that the task was starting.
After that, Adrian Wesson was the first to lead Cedric away.
Harry followed Professor McGonagall out of the Great Hall and into the open air.
It hadn't snowed yet, but November's wind already carried a biting, damp chill that rushed at them.
They passed Hagrid's cabin, took a familiar path along the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and finally reached the clearing Harry had visited that night.
What had changed was that there was a medium-sized tent set up at the entrance to the grounds.
"Go on in; I imagine the other champions are already there," Professor McGonagall said, her face lined with worry. "Mr Bagman will explain the content of the task to you."
"Thank you."
Harry said this, then walked calmly into the tent.
As Professor McGonagall had said, the other champions were already there.
Fleur sat on a low chair, her face somewhat pale—clearly nerves; Krum looked dark and brooding, just as he had during that Quidditch match.
As for Cedric, when he saw Harry arrive, he gave him a slight nod.
Harry smiled back.
It seemed they were all the same: though they already knew they would be facing dragons, they were still, to some extent, nervous.
Aside from the champions, Ludo Bagman and Adrian Wesson were also in the tent.
Once everyone had gathered, Adrian Wesson nodded to Bagman. "Everyone's here. Looks like I should be going."
"Of course—go and enjoy yourself in the stands, Professor Wesson," Bagman said, looking highly excited. He rubbed his hands. "And thank you for helping us make the dragon models."
"You're welcome."
Adrian Wesson said no more and turned to leave.
As he passed Harry, he suddenly lowered his voice so only Harry could hear. "Remember, it's enough to get through the task. Don't harm that dragon."
Harry's head snapped up; he was about to say something, but Adrian Wesson had already left the tent.
Don't harm that dragon?
Harry thought his teacher was overestimating him. He had never fought a real dragon, but he reckoned his spells would, in all likelihood, have a hard time injuring a real dragon.
What had happened with that Transfigured dragon before had only been an accident.
"All right, champions, eyes over here, please?"
Bagman clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention.
Harry looked over at him as well.
"Now, you need to choose your opponent from among these little fellows. Ah, right—your task is to snatch a golden egg from them."
As he spoke, Bagman clapped again.
To the champions' surprise, several lifelike dragon models leapt out of a wooden crate at the side, each about a metre high.
Their hide and scales gleamed with a metallic sheen under the tent's dim lights, their wings folded against their backs, quivering slightly with each breath.
Aside from their size, they were almost indistinguishable from real dragons.
Harry felt sure he had seen these dragon models somewhere before.
Bagman looked pleased with the champions' astonished expressions.
In fact, these dragon models had been made with Adrian Wesson's help.
Of course, that wasn't the important part.
What mattered was that the organisers had allocated a considerable sum of Galleons for the purpose.
And with Adrian Wesson's help, hardly any of those Galleons had actually been used.
What?
You ask where those Galleons went?
Why, naturally, into someone's pocket.
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