Lucas stood with the crowd of students, his eyes wide with excitement. The Triwizard Tournament was unlike anything he had ever seen at Hogwarts. He had always dreamed of watching such a prestigious event, but now that he was here, standing on the edges of the action, it felt surreal. This was magic at its purest—dangerous, thrilling, and utterly spectacular.
The first task was about to begin, and Lucas could hardly contain his excitement. He stood on tiptoe, craning his neck to get a better view of the massive arena. Dragons. Real dragons. Fire-breathing, scaled beasts that seemed to be made of nightmare and myth. It was said that the champions were going to have to face them to retrieve a golden egg, but Lucas didn't care about that. He just wanted to see the dragons, their great wings beating the air, their roars echoing across the grounds.
When the first dragon was released, Lucas felt the ground tremble beneath his feet. The sheer power of the creature was almost overwhelming. Its wings spread wide, blocking out the sun for a moment as it bellowed, the noise reverberating through the stadium. The crowd went wild, and Lucas could hardly believe his eyes. He'd read about dragons, of course—who hadn't? But seeing one in person, so massive and so real, was something else entirely.
The champions' bravery was equally impressive as they took on the beasts, each one showing incredible skill in outmaneuvering the dragons. When Harry Potter stepped up to face his dragon, Lucas couldn't help but cheer, caught up in the rush of the crowd. The boy was small, but he moved with the confidence of someone far older. He was quick, agile, and managed to get the golden egg without a scratch. The crowd erupted, and Lucas joined in, clapping and yelling. It had been spectacular.
But the second task?
It was a disappointment.
Lucas had been excited for it—the champions diving into the lake, battling merpeople, magical creatures, and who knew what else in the dark depths. But when the task began, he was left squinting at the still water, barely able to see a thing. The enchanted surface of the lake rippled, occasionally disturbed by a splashing champion, but beyond that? Nothing. It was like watching a dark, watery void, with nothing but the occasional bubble or shift in the water to indicate that something was happening.
He couldn't even tell what the champions were facing, let alone how they were going about solving the task. The excitement that had once bubbled in him quickly drained away, and he found himself bored. The only real spectacle was when Harry Potter emerged, gasping for air, holding the people he had rescued, but even that was quickly overshadowed by the endless silence of the lake that refused to give any clues as to what had been going on beneath its surface.
And then came the third task, the maze.
At first, Lucas thought it might be exciting—giant hedges twisting and growing, magical creatures lurking in the shadows, the promise of hidden obstacles. But when it came time for the champions to enter, he found himself sitting in the stands, staring blankly at a maze. A maze. It didn't even move much. It was just hedges, tall and green, the occasional rustle of something, but the champions were out of sight.
He tried to stay engaged. Really, he did. But after the spectacle of dragons and the disappointment of the lake, this felt like an anticlimax. A hedge maze. Who cared?
But then, everything changed.
The ground shook beneath them.
Lucas looked up sharply, his heart hammering in his chest. The maze had been quiet for too long. Too still. The air seemed to grow heavier, thicker with an unnatural energy. Then, out of nowhere, popped someone else in the middle of the field
It was Harry Potter.
And he was carrying Cedric Diggory.
The sight of the body made Lucas freeze, his stomach dropping to his feet. There was no mistaking it—Cedric's face was pale, his body limp, the life gone from his eyes. Harry stumbled toward the edge of the maze, his face a mask of horror and disbelief.
The crowd was silent for a moment. Lucas couldn't breathe. He didn't know what he was seeing. Cedric Diggory, one of their own, the son of a respected family, dead. No, it couldn't be.
But it was.
And then Harry shouted.
"Voldemort is back!"
The words hit like a thunderclap. The air around Lucas seemed to freeze, and his heart stopped. The implications of those words were too vast, too terrifying to comprehend at once. Voldemort—the dark wizard who had terrorized the wizarding world for years, who had been thought defeated—was back?
The crowd erupted into a cacophony of voices, but it was a blur to Lucas. The reality of what he had just witnessed, what Harry had just said, was too much. A thousand questions raced through his mind. How? Why? What did it mean for the world? What had happened in that maze? What had Cedric's death even been about?
But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered right then.
All that mattered was that Harry Potter, the boy who had already faced death more times than anyone could count, was now carrying the body of one of their own, declaring that the greatest evil of their time had returned.
And the world, it seemed, was about to change.