After showing Hermione my plan and practicing with the fake dragon for some time, we both decided to head back to our dormitories to get some sleep.
Tomorrow was going to be a big day, and I needed to be well-rested.
The next morning, excitement and tension gripped Hogwarts. Lessons were to stop at midday, giving everyone time to gather at the arena—though only the champions and a select few knew what awaited.
When I entered the Gryffindor common room, I saw Hermione pacing near the fireplace. She froze mid-step when she noticed me, her brows furrowed and her hands tightly clasping her robes.
"Are you ready?" she asked, her voice calm, though her fingers fidgeted at her sides.
I gave her a reassuring smile. "As ready as I'll ever be."
We headed to our morning lectures together. Everywhere I went, students whispered and stared. Some offered genuine good wishes, while others, particularly from Slytherin, tried to rile me up.
I thanked the well wishers while roasting the Slytherins, while living the day as I normally would.
As we were having lunch in the afternoon , I spotted Professor McGonagall coming quickly towards me.
"Potter, the champions have to come down onto the grounds now… You need to get ready for your first task."
"Sure," I said, quickly finishing my cake.
"Good luck, Harry," Hermione whispered, her voice soft but steady. "You'll be fine."
"Yeah," I replied, giving her a confident smile.
As I followed Professor McGonagall out of the Great Hall, the buzz of student chatter faded behind us. The crisp November air greeted us as we walked toward the champions' tent, situated just beyond the arena.
"Now, don't panic," Professor McGonagall said. "Keep a cool head. We've got wizards standing by to control the situation if it gets out of hand. The main thing is to do your best, and nobody will think any the worse of you. Are you all right?"
"Yes," I said simply, my tone calm and assured.
She seemed not to notice my response as she pressed on, her pace quickening slightly.
"You're to go in here with the other champions," she instructed, her voice a bit shaky. "Mr. Bagman is inside—he'll explain the procedure. Good luck."
"Thanks, Professor. I'll be fine," I assured her, watching as she left with a worried glance over her shoulder.
Taking a deep breath, I approached the tent that housed the other champions. Pushing aside the entrance flap, I stepped inside.
Fleur Delacour was sitting in a corner on a low wooden stool. She didn't look nearly as composed as usual, but rather pale and clammy.
Viktor Krum looked even surlier than usual, which I supposed was his way of showing nerves.
Cedric was pacing up and down. When I entered, Cedric gave me a small smile, which I returned.
"Harry! Good! Good!" said Bagman happily, looking around at him. "Come in, come in, make yourself at home!"
With a node to him I went inside and stood with the other champions.
"Well, now we're all here, time to fill you in!" Bagman said brightly. "When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag." He held up a small sack of purple silk and shook it at us.
"From this bag, you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different... er... varieties, you see. And your task is to collect the golden egg!"
We nodded to show we understood, before turning our attention away from Bagman. Cedric started pacing again, looking slightly green, while Fleur and Krum remained motionless, like statues.
We waited as the spectators filled the stadium. I could hear all sorts of shouting and laughing from the other side, with the added sound of hundreds of feet passing by.
After some time Bagman had us all gather together around him as he showed us the small green pouch he was holding. "Ladies First." he said offering it to Fleur.
She put a shaking hand inside the bag and drew out a tiny, perfect model of a dragon — a Welsh Green. It had the number two around its neck.
She showed a resigned expression, then steeled herself and sat down, her gaze fixed on the miniature dragon with determination.
The same held true for Krum. He pulled out the scarlet Chinese Fireball. It had a number three around its neck. He didn't even blink, just sat back down and stared at the ground.
Cedric put his hand into the bag, and out came the blueish-gray Swedish Short-Snout, the number one tied around its neck.
That left only me. I reached into the bag, already knowing which dragon I would get — the Hungarian Horntail, the very one Harry had faced in the original task.
"Well, there you are!" said Bagman. "You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? "
"Now, I'm going to have to leave you in a moment, because I'm commentating. Mr. Diggory, you're first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right?"
"Yes, I understand" said Cedric although his voice was unusually low.
Bagman hurried after finishing his task to go do the commentary that he was supposed to do.
A whistle sounded outside the tent. Cedric flinched slightly at the sharp noise before stepping out towards the arena.
The noise from the stadium grew louder as the audience reacted to the events unfolding. Bursts of OHHHHs and AHHHHs echoed randomly, signaling moments of tension and excitement.
After about 15 minutes, a thunderous cheer erupted, marking Cedric's successful completion of his task.
Next, Fleur was called. She walked out of the tent. The same cycle of gasps and cheers followed, though her turn seemed to pass by quicker.
Finally, Krum left the tent as Fleur's task concluded. The crowd's reactions continued unabated, growing louder as his attempt played out.
Now, I was the only one left. Sitting alone in the tent, as I waited for my turn.
Was I nervous?
Not really.
Was I exited?
Definitely.
So with time passing slowly the next whistle finally sounded signalling my turn to face the dragon.
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