Ludo Bagman strode to the center of the platform, beaming with excitement. He waved enthusiastically to the roaring crowd, his energetic demeanor amplifying the anticipation in the air. The stands were alive with noise—students from Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang all chattered excitedly, some waving banners while others simply leaned forward in suspense. The moment had finally arrived.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Bagman's voice rang out, magically amplified to reach every corner of the massive stadium. "The wait is over! It is time to announce our champions and the tasks they shall face!"
A new wave of cheers erupted from the audience. Severus stood at his designated spot near the emergency response team. His face remained impassive, but he noted everything worthwhile.
Bagman pulled out a parchment and glanced down at it. "Our first champion, representing Durmstrang Institute—Viktor Krum!"
A roar of applause met the announcement. The Durmstrang students banged their fists on the wooden stands in support, their cheers guttural and strong. Krum's name was chanted repeatedly, his fans clearly determined to drown out the other schools. The Hogwarts students clapped as well, though with slightly less enthusiasm—after all, their own champions were still to be named. However, there were certain fans of the Quidditch Star in Hogwarts too as they too chanted his name.
"And Viktor Krum shall be facing—" Bagman paused for effect, stretching the moment as the tension thickened. "An adult Common Welsh Green!"
A collective murmur spread through the crowd. Some students leaned in to whisper excitedly, discussing the challenge. The Common Welsh Green wasn't the most aggressive dragon, but it was still a full-grown beast, capable of reducing anything in its path to ashes.
Severus noted how some of the younger students looked at each other with wide eyes, probably realizing for the first time just how dangerous the tournament was. Clearly the first and second year students had not much idea about those things.
Bagman grinned and continued, "Our second champion, representing Hogwarts—Harry Potter!"
The reaction was immediate. The Gryffindor section exploded into cheers, some standing up and pumping their fists in the air. Others waved crudely drawn banners depicting golden snitches, broomsticks, and slogans of encouragement. Among the other houses, the response was more varied. The Hufflepuffs clapped politely, while the Ravenclaws had mixed expressions—some intrigued, others indifferent. The Slytherins, however, were barely reacting, some rolling their eyes, others muttering amongst themselves.
Severus remained stoic. Things had changed of course. Potter was second. It hadn't happened in his world. But then again, he couldn't compare everything of his world to this one.
"And young Mr. Potter shall be up against—" Bagman's eyes twinkled mischievously as he delivered the next part, "—a Chinese Fireball!"
A fresh wave of gasps and whispers rippled through the crowd. The Chinese Fireball was no joke. It was a powerful, aggressive breed known for its spectacular bursts of flame.
Severus shifted slightly. A difficult opponent, but Potter had a way of worming himself out of trouble. That much hadn't changed. Atleast in this world, he hadn't got the Hungarian Horntail.
Bagman held up the parchment again. "Our third champion, also representing Hogwarts—Cedric Diggory!"
The Hufflepuffs erupted with a deafening roar. Their cheers rivaled even the Gryffindors', many of them standing up and stomping their feet in excitement. The contrast was amusing—Hufflepuffs, usually the quietest and most overlooked, were now the loudest in the stadium.
Severus saw several younger students pointing and whispering, their expressions filled with admiration for Cedric. He was, after all, the epitome of the ideal champion—handsome, talented, and fair-minded. It was hard not to root for him.
"And Mr. Diggory will be facing—" Bagman dragged the moment out, his dramatic pause increasing the suspense, "—a Swedish Short-Snout!"
More murmurs spread through the crowd. The Short-Snout was a dangerous choice, known for its highly potent blue flames. The challenge was real, but manageable for someone of Cedric's skill level. Only one dragon remained as of now.
Finally, Bagman turned to the last name on his parchment. "And now, our final champion! Representing Beauxbatons—Fleur Delacour!"
The Beauxbatons students erupted into applause, clapping gracefully but enthusiastically. A few students waved small, shimmering flags, the school's signature elegance evident even in their celebration. Fleur's name was spoken with admiration, especially among the younger girls in the audience. Her poise and confidence had already won her many silent supporters.
"And for her challenge, Miss Delacour shall be facing—" Bagman's grin widened as he delivered the final, most anticipated announcement, "—the Hungarian Horntail!"
The reaction was immediate. Gasps, shocked whispers, and excited chatter filled the air. The Hungarian Horntail was notoriously aggressive, one of the most dangerous dragon breeds in existence. Severus could see the unease settle over some of the students, while others leaned forward, clearly eager to see how Fleur would handle such a formidable opponent.
Bagman beamed, letting the noise settle before speaking again. "And there you have it, folks! Our champions and their challenges! In just a few moments, we shall begin the First Task!"
Another round of applause erupted as the excitement reached its peak. Students whispered among themselves, making last-minute predictions and speculating on the strategies the champions might use.
Severus took the moment to survey the field once more. The Aurors were still in their positions, standing watch but not looking particularly concerned. The judges had returned to their seats, their expressions varying between amused and focused.
His gaze flicked toward the covered cages where the dragons were being held. Even from this distance, he could sense the tension in the air—the barely restrained power of the creatures waiting to be unleashed.
It was almost time.
___
The air was thick with anticipation as the dragon handlers moved with practiced efficiency, bringing out the Common Welsh Green. The massive beast, its emerald scales glistening under the mid-morning sun, let out a low, guttural growl as it was led into the enclosure. The audience in the stands collectively held their breath as the handlers carefully positioned the dragon's clutch of eggs in one corner of the arena, the golden egg placed strategically among them. The dragon's yellow eyes flickered between the handlers and the crowd, already tense, already dangerous.
Ludo Bagman's voice rang out over the magically amplified speakers, excitement lacing every word.
"And here we have it, ladies and gentlemen! Our first champion, Viktor Krum, will soon be facing the mighty Common Welsh Green! His task? To retrieve the golden egg while avoiding the dragon's fiery wrath! This is not just a test of bravery, but also of strategy and skill!"
A deafening roar of cheers erupted from the audience. Durmstrang students in the stands were particularly animated, chanting Krum's name with fervor. The Hogwarts students, though divided in allegiance, cheered all the same, swept up in the thrill of the event. The Beauxbatons contingent, though more reserved, clapped politely.
Severus stood near the opposite entrance, where the healers and dragon handlers were stationed. His arms were crossed, his expression unreadable as his dark eyes scanned the scene. The healers were to remain here, ready to intervene the moment something went wrong. He saw Grant standing a few feet away, looking unusually tense.
Severus didn't respond. His mind was elsewhere. His eyes swept over the dragon handlers standing at the ready, noting a familiar face among them—Charlie Weasley. The second-eldest Weasley son looked as rugged as Severus remembered, his arms crossed as he observed the dragon. It seemed that, even in this world, Charlie had chosen a career with dragons.
A sudden boom signaled the start of the task.
The cannon had fired.
The crowd roared again as Viktor Krum emerged from the waiting area, his stance rigid, his wand gripped tightly. He walked forward, determined, his dark eyes locked onto the dragon. The Common Welsh Green's nostrils flared, and for a moment, all was still. The tension in the air was palpable.
Then, the dragon let out a fierce snarl, baring its rows of sharp teeth, and flapped its massive wings, sending a gust of wind through the arena. The golden egg gleamed enticingly among the real ones, a cruel trick played on both dragon and champion alike.
Severus noted Krum's stance. He was calculating, not rushing in recklessly. A good sign.
With a swift flick of his wand, Krum conjured a shower of fiery sparks aimed to the dragon's left, distracting it. The beast roared, turning its head toward the disturbance. At the same time, Krum kicked up a handful of rocks with another spell, sending them skittering noisily in the opposite direction. The dragon turned its head sharply, confused, its instincts warring between the two sources of movement.
Severus exhaled through his nose. Clever.
Using the distraction to his advantage, Krum moved swiftly, his form low and controlled as he darted toward the nest. The audience watched in breathless anticipation as he got closer, each step bringing him nearer to the golden egg. The dragon, however, was not so easily deceived.
The moment Krum reached out to grasp the egg, the Welsh Green's eyes snapped back to him. A deep, guttural growl echoed through the arena, followed by a blinding flash of orange flames.
Gasps and shouts erupted from the stands.
Severus tensed, his fingers twitching toward his wand.
But Krum was fast.
With a practiced roll, he narrowly avoided the fire, though a few embers licked at the edges of his robes. He didn't falter. Instead, he grabbed the golden egg, cradling it against his chest as he sprinted away from the nest.
The dragon was enraged now, its wings flaring as it let out another roar. It stomped forward, its massive claws digging into the dirt, its tail thrashing dangerously. The handlers moved slightly, wands at the ready. If the dragon became uncontrollable, they would have to step in.
Krum, however, did not give it the chance.
With a final, well-placed spell, he sent a concentrated blast of smoke toward the dragon's face. The beast reeled back, blinking rapidly, temporarily disoriented. Seizing the opportunity, Krum dashed toward the exit.
The moment he crossed the boundary line, the crowd erupted in applause. Even Severus had to admit it, Krum was fast. He sprinted at a very high speed. Perhaps, it was adrenaline or perhaps it might have been a potion. Severus didn't bother with it. Cheating was afterall a part of the Tournament. If Krum was dosing on potions, then it was the management's duty to handle it. Besides, wizarding world lacked rules like that. Moreover, Krum was an athlete. Maybe, he was simply being too paranoid.
Bagman's voice boomed through the arena. "And he's done it! Viktor Krum has successfully retrieved the golden egg! A fine display of skill, patience, and strategy!"
Severus let out a quiet breath, watching as the dragon handlers moved in to calm the Welsh Green. Charlie Weasley stepped forward first, murmuring something in a low voice as he flicked his wand in sync with the other handlers. The dragon huffed, lowering itself slightly, though its body remained tense.
In the stands, the Durmstrang students were cheering wildly. Hogwarts students were clapping, and even some Beauxbatons students seemed impressed.
The judges, seated on their podium, began conferring in low voices, already discussing the scores.
Severus, however, wasn't paying attention to that. His focus was on the task ahead.
This was just the beginning.
___
Severus stared impassively as the dragon handlers worked swiftly to switch out the dragons. The Common Welsh Green had been returned to its enclosure, and now, the handlers were carefully maneuvering the Chinese Fireball into place. The creature snarled, fire simmering in its throat, its spiked tail lashing out irritably. The golden egg was placed in the middle of the nest, among the real eggs, just as before.
The murmurs of the crowd grew in excitement. A murky wave of anticipation passed over the stands, the cheers and chants rising in intensity as Ludo Bagman's voice boomed over the magical amplification.
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, our next champion! The youngest of the lot, the one and only—Harry Potter!"
The cheers from the Hogwarts stands nearly drowned out the rest of Bagman's words. Severus' lips curled slightly in distaste as he caught sight of the boy stepping out of the tent, his movements hesitant but purposeful. The boy's face was different from the Harry Potter he knew—less like James, perhaps, but the similarities were still there. The untidy hair, the scar, the slight wariness in those green eyes. Yet something felt… off.
Severus exhaled sharply, pushing the thought aside. He wasn't here to analyze the boy's face. He was here to determine whether this Potter was just as reckless, just as insufferably lucky, as the one he had known.
Potter stepped onto the field, his wand clutched tightly in his hand. The Chinese Fireball turned its gaze toward him, its golden eyes narrowing, nostrils flaring as it caught his scent. The crowd hushed momentarily, holding its collective breath.
Severus observed closely, his sharp eyes flicking between Potter and the dragon. The boy wasn't immediately rushing in like a fool, which was already an improvement from the reckless Gryffindor tendencies he had come to expect. Instead, Potter remained still, as if assessing the situation. His wand hand was tense, but his stance was not entirely uncertain.
Then, without warning, the Fireball let out a deafening screech and belched a burst of flame. Potter barely dodged in time, rolling out of the way before quickly regaining his footing. Severus tilted his head slightly. Quick reflexes, he noted.
Potter raised his wand. "Accio Firebolt!"
Ah. So he was going with the same strategy. Severus watched as the broom shot across the sky toward him, Potter leaping onto it the moment it reached his hand. The crowd exploded in excitement as he took to the air, soaring high above the arena. The dragon roared in frustration, its wings spreading as it reared up, preparing to pursue.
"Clever," murmured one of the healers beside him. "He's keeping out of its direct reach."
Severus did not respond. His eyes remained locked on Potter, his expression unreadable.
The boy circled the dragon, provoking it, drawing its focus away from the nest. The Fireball snapped its jaws at him, unleashing jets of flame, but Potter remained just out of reach, darting through the air in erratic, unpredictable movements. The crowd gasped each time he narrowly avoided disaster.
Severus watched with a cold, analytical gaze. This wasn't just blind luck. The boy had control. What the boy did next, however shocked him. Potter sent a Conjunctivitis Curse straight to the dragon's eyes. If that wasn't surprising, the next spell which he unleashed after the first one missed the eyes, was more surprising. The second spell was same as first but a different variant to it.
The Conjunctivitis Curse was a curse that irritated the target's eyes, forcing them to swell shut. Dragons were notably susceptible to this curse, because while their hide made them resistant to most spells, their eyes remained vulnerable. The Oculus Potion was able to counteract this curse. A variation of this curse existed which was purple in colour that completely blinded the target, which could also not be counteracted with the Oculus Potion. It was a spell which was not openly used by anyone as the spell usually bordered on the uncharted area, only to be used for emergencies.
The second spell was the same spell. The permanent variant of the Conjunctivitis Curse. The one which hit squarely in the eyes of the dragons by pure luck.
And then, in a maneuver that was either brilliantly calculated or sheer idiocy, Potter dove. Straight down, toward the dragon's blind spot, the space between its front legs where it could not see him. The Fireball roared in confusion, twisting its massive body to track him, but Potter was already past it, reaching down, fingers outstretched towards the golden egg.
The golden egg was in his grasp.
The crowd erupted in cheers. The Fireball lashed out in fury, its tail smashing into the ground just inches from where Potter had been. However, it stopped as the feral beast finally reacted to the loss of its vision. It roared angrily into the air, sending flames everywhere around it.
The boy pulled up hard, his broom spiraling dangerously for a moment before he regained control. He shot upward, higher, away from the dragon's range. The handlers were already stepping forward, wands raised, prepared to subdue the Fireball before it could rampage.
Severus felt a flicker of… something. He wasn't sure what. Annoyance, perhaps? Disbelief? The Harry Potter he had known had survived by sheer dumb luck, protected by forces beyond his own understanding. But this one. This one had skill. He had the gall to use a strong spell. A spell which some may say was a little dark. Something which he admitted too. But then again, one couldn't use light spells while fighting a dragon.
Ludo Bagman was shouting excitedly over the noise, announcing the success of the second champion. Potter landed, his face flushed from exertion, but he was grinning as he raised the egg triumphantly.
Severus exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable. He did not cheer. He did not clap. But he watched, silent and calculating.
Perhaps this world's Harry Potter was not a fool after all.