Play Speak
On a makeshift clearing, there were around twenty students dispersed in pairs or small groups, seated on the grass. Including the professors, the total count reached about thirty.
They stared at the two figures weaving in the center, casting spells at each other in rapid succession.
"Cedric, come on!" shouted Roger Davies enthusiastically.
"Viktor, you've got this!"
Cedric dodged a spell with a quick movement, then incanted, "Armor protection!" He conjured a magical barrier, taking a breath as the opposing spell flew like a sword, crashing into the barrier with a loud bang.
The boy named "Graves," with his refined black short hair, had spells of incredible potency. He grinned, looking as if victory was assured.
"Watch your step, Viktor!"
Viktor Krum was startled, suddenly noticing two slender streams of water winding their way towards him, crossing over the grass and soil, discreetly following the direction of his feet.
Raising his wand, he attempted to react. Just then, Cedric charged forward, releasing a burst of red light from his wand tip. Graves quickly turned to protect himself, but the spell missed him entirely.
The nearby water erupted suddenly, a burst of scalding mist rising from the grass, enveloping Cedric along with Graves. Their figures appeared hazy, almost translucent.
"Thundering Blast!"
As if after a long time, the incantation Cedric cast reached the ears of those around him.
In the mist, Cedric muttered a spell, enhancing his senses with the Legilimens charm, striving to catch the shadow of Graves.
The onlookers held their breath, even the Draco quintet, who had just arrived, stood about seven or eight feet away, their gaze fixed on the hazy mist.
Quick!
It was happening too quickly!
All of it occurred within seven or eight seconds; many hadn't even processed what was going on.
"Brilliant move, Cedric set up a trap, and everything's going according to his plan," praised Flitwick with a high-pitched voice.
Felix nodded, "He seems to have been well-prepared."
"Yes, he asked me about a few spells... I already anticipated his next move," Flitwick said expectantly.
The mist grew thicker. Not only mist, but billows of white smoke swiftly spread, sealing off an area of about thirty to forty feet in diameter. It was like an overturned goblet, concealing everything within.
The arcs of the spells flashed like lightning, momentarily illuminating the cloudy sky, causing the observing students to retreat.
"It appears Cedric intends to use the dense fog as his battlefield. This might be prepared for larger magical creatures, making it convenient for both combat and withdrawal... I didn't expect it to work so well against wizards too," mused Felix.
"After all, he still needs to strengthen two aspects—first, cutting off the opponent's line of sight as much as possible, effectively blinding them; second, enhancing his own detection abilities. It would be even better if he could ignore the smoke," Felix added.
"His skill in diverting spells is impressive," Moody remarked.
As they conversed, the cloud of mist churned violently, layers of blackness expanding from a single point. Like unsightly molds growing on pristine spores, these molds spread rapidly, accompanied by a pungent smell of gasoline.
"Did Cedric do that?"
"No, that's dark magic."
Flitwick raised his wand and waved it in front of his eyes, causing the mist to automatically part, avoiding them.
Half a minute later, two figures burst out, coughing heavily, tears streaming from their eyes, the skin around their eyes reddened from the fumes.
"Cough suppressus."
Felix gestured towards Cedric, and his expression immediately softened.
The other student on the opposite side also quieted down. The two approached each other and shook hands, their eyes slightly red.
Professor Wilkins of Beauxbatons exclaimed loudly, "Well done, children, you all performed admirably... Wait a moment, where are these people from?"
Felix and Flitwick had spotted Harry and the others long before, but they remained silent. Moody, at the side, said in a low voice, "I told you, Professor Wilkins, they're from the younger group..."
In the crowd, Beauxbatons' Durmstrang took a surprised look at Norbert, recognizing many of them as his friends from Gryffindor. He inquired about their year levels and realized, apart from the twins, most of them were fourth years.
Wilkins skeptically scrutinized Harry and the others, and Harry tried to stand taller, making himself look bigger. "What about this young lady?" he pointed at Astoria, asking, "Did she pass your selection too?"
"Although it's unexpected, yes..." Felix shrugged, "She's only a second-year this year. Due to her young age, she didn't participate in training. The rest of the group, however, received the same treatment as sixth and seventh years, having achieved the same standing at Hogwarts."
"Very well, as long as they don't scream and disrupt the order..." Wilkins reluctantly agreed, his objections silenced. The group let out a collective sigh of relief.
"Most fortunate that Professor McGonagall isn't here, she left midway," Fred winked and said.
George gave a thumbs-up.
Over the next few minutes, the professors critiqued the duel that had just taken place, especially the segment involving dark magic. When it came to Felix's turn, he reminded the Hogwarts students, "Don't forget, some of you have learned the Lumos spell, which can dispel magical fog..."
Collins stared at him, she hadn't chosen Ancient Runes, nor was she a member of the Runes Club. On this matter, she was even less knowledgeable than Astoria, who had been allowed to join the club by Dumbledore's special permission to comfort her.
Following this, the students took turns entering the arena, each duel ending quickly.
Not the kind of "quick" Harry had encountered in dueling class—after thinking for a while, he finally came up with an appropriate word.
Rhythm.
The rhythm of attack on both sides flowed remarkably smoothly, a fluidity he hadn't experienced before in dueling class, a sensation reminiscent of his encounters with Sirius or in the Room of Requirement.
As for the intense training during the summer of his second year, and his few clashes with Professor Harp, he had been soundly defeated, a far cry from pleasant experiences.
An hour later, every upper-year student had taken their turn.
Felix looked at Harry and the others eagerly watching him, giving them a faint smile. He addressed Wilkins, "Professor Wilkins, why not let these younger students have a go?"
"Sure."
Wilkins nodded in agreement. He didn't find it troublesome, even though Hogwarts professors had spoken highly of these students, he believed it was an exaggeration. They were several years younger than the actual Champion candidates, and breaking through age differences was no easy feat.
Plus, he had specifically asked around, and most of the students here hadn't even passed their O.W.Ls.
Beauxbatons had similar exams, and he was well aware of the transformation these students who had gone through this year would undergo.
"You guys give it a shot! Just no dark magic." Wilkins said to his Beauxbatons students, before lazily sitting down on the grass, pulling out a bottle of wine from his robes, and taking a sip.
Yuria and Bethany exchanged glances, Yuria said, "Biles, why don't you go?"
Biles nodded in agreement.
He stood in the center, grinning widely, which got Harry and the others excited.
"Norbert, how about a try?" Unexpectedly, Biles extended the invitation.
Norbert was taken aback for a moment, then walked to the center of the arena, speaking softly, "I'm not that skilled."
"No worries." Biles chuckled, after all, it was just a friendly match, and it would be a good change of pace.
However, reality surprised him. Norbert handled various basic spells proficiently, particularly the Disarming Charm and the Shield Charm. And, astonishingly, he cast both spells without making a sound.
Silencio!
Norbert's movements were somewhat stiff, just a few steps back and forth. After a while, Biles adapted and found the pattern, but this seemingly rigid footwork appeared to have stood the test of time and countless trials. He felt like he was facing a formidable rock.
Norbert wasn't very aggressive in his attacks; he usually let Biles cast spells first. Norbert would then use the Shield Charm, stepping back a few paces while always keeping himself facing Biles. In the gaps between Biles' spellcasting, Norbert would manage to slip in a few Stunning Spells, sometimes accompanied by Shield Charms or Disarming Spells.
His face was tense, mirroring his dueling style.
Flitwick muttered, "This kind of footwork isn't covered in the curriculum for school dueling classes. It looks simple, but it requires extensive practice. Every tiny movement has a distinct purpose."
Moody tightened his grip on his staff and said in a deep voice, "I seem to recall seeing this style somewhere. It feels familiar."
"It should be Frank Longbottom's teaching," Felix said.
"So that's it..." Flitwick said in admiration, "His father is an excellent Auror. It seems he tailored this footwork for Norbert, and it suits his personality quite well."
"Yes, a resilient footwork," Felix commented.
On the field, Biles was getting a bit anxious. Despite being friends, he was a Champion candidate, so he increased the output of his magic, causing his wand to release bright arcs of light.
But Norbert remained steadfast like an unyielding stone, weathering his attacks. He was muttering something under his breath, "Steady as a rock, light as a feather, still as a pond, swift as spring thunder..." Occasionally, he dared to leap out and send a burst of red light, startling Biles, before swiftly retreating.
The magical barrier in front of Norbert shattered six or seven times, but each time, he skillfully reconstituted it just in time.
Yuria fell into contemplation, Wilkins seemed to lose interest in his drink, and Bethany anxiously watched her brother locked in a tough battle. She questioned, "What's going on? Why can't Biles break through that kid's defense?"
"Biles isn't using highly aggressive spells, that's one reason. Also..." Wilkins hesitated, "that kid's footwork is quite something, very impressive. And he's really good at using the Shield Charm, all his tactics revolve around it. I've noticed at least thirteen or fourteen different techniques, each highly targeted." He took a sip of his drink, chuckled, and then kept his gaze fixed on the duel.
"This is a test for Biles as well. He should learn to think on his feet."
After a standoff of over ten minutes, Biles finally found the key to breaking through. Bright flames shot out from the tip of his wand, forming into a blurry, large bird that soared towards Norbert.
Amidst the astonishment of the onlookers, Norbert urgently cast a second Shield Charm, firmly blocking the flames.
"Wow!" Ron looked at Norbert in amazement, seemingly reshaping his impression of him.
The fiery bird broke through the first barrier but crashed solidly against the second Shield Charm, almost dissipating. But Biles swung his wand repeatedly, causing the fiery bird to reform. This time, it maneuvered around Norbert and flew at him from the side.
Norbert surrendered gracefully.
"You could have held on a bit longer," Biles walked over, shaking his hand earnestly.
Norbert shook his head, "You already found the weakness," he said, then gave his head an affectionate pat, "Actually, my dad came up with other tactics for me, but I can't use them right now."
"Alright, seems like you have a great dad," Biles said in a helpless tone.
Norbert grinned back brightly.
Next, the students from Beauxbatons grew serious. They suddenly realized that these students, on average two or three years younger, weren't that easy to handle. They took turns entering the arena, choosing opponents voluntarily. Following Professor Wilkins' orders and Biles' example, they refrained from using dark magic and powerful spells. However, with higher levels of magic and spellcasting skills, Susan Bones, Emilce, and Shabini soon succumbed to their opponents. The students of Beauxbatons finally breathed a sigh of relief, realizing these individuals weren't all as challenging as Norbert.
It wasn't because Norbert was incredibly strong; rather, his strategy was particularly effective against opponents who relied on technical skills.
Draco's performance was also quite impressive. He engaged in a back-and-forth duel with a witch from Beauxbatons, and he almost succeeded in using powerful spells from his third-year dueling competition. However, the diligent Beauxbatons students, carefully chosen as Reserve Champions, proved themselves on par with novice Aurors.
If the positions were reversed, and the Hogwarts students initiated the attacks, the Beauxbatons students would likely be able to hold on until the Hogwarts students exhausted their magic.
...
As his companions were picked one by one, Harry started to feel anxious. Why wasn't he chosen? Just because he was shorter? Because he appeared weaker?
He stared at Astoria, who also seemed a bit sulky—no one was paying her any attention, despite her best efforts to stand at the front.
Harry suddenly felt a pang of sadness.
Even Hermione was up there. Her opponent was a wizard named "Graves," who sneered, "I've heard your name quite a few times these days, Miss Know-It-All."
Hermione raised an eyebrow, his tone wasn't particularly friendly.
"May we begin?" She calmly raised her wand.
"Of course," Graves grinned.
"Swoosh!"
A silent Disarming Spell shot out swiftly, causing Graves to jump aside, surprised.
"Is this your best spell? Many people don't realize that the individual impact of a single silent spell isn't that substantial."
Hermione's expression remained stern. "You'll see," she said. She swung her wand repeatedly, casting spell after spell, and within a short period of time, she managed to overpower her opponent. Graves was forced to conjure a curved magical barrier, enclosing himself entirely.
Flitwick exclaimed in surprise, "When did Granger master the silent spell? Moreover, she's applying it to multiple spells; this doesn't look like something she's just learned."
Moody stared at Hermione's agile spellcasting, remaining silent. As he considered his plans, he couldn't help but look at Ron, whose mouth was agape.
Felix explained, "Her control over magic has always been exceptional. When I asked her to write an essay on dueling systems, she placed the silent spell at the forefront."
"Why?"
"Her spells..." Felix pondered for a moment, carefully choosing his words, "are quite conventional, often holding surprises in the finer details of control, but the spell's power doesn't quite live up to expectations."
Flitwick immediately understood his implication, "This isn't much of a problem, her spellcasting is steady, which is her biggest strength. When she reaches adulthood, she'll be able to fully utilize her strengths, perhaps even combine spells... Oh, my!"
On the open ground, Graves broke the previous understanding.
Black flames expanded, dispersing into a dozen clusters, hovering in the air. As he swung his wand like a blade, the flames suddenly plummeted from above.
Hermione conjured a magical barrier, and then she felt the intense heat. Her hair even carried a slight burnt smell. Realizing the danger, she quickly stepped back, only to see the magical barrier burned through by the black flames, leaving a gaping hole.
"What is this?"
"Dark fire, I expressly forbade the use of dark magic, especially such potent dark magic." Wilkins said gravely, "Graves is losing control; he's too fixated on honor... Let's be prepared to separate them."
Several professors gathered instinctively. Flitwick's voice rose, "We should stop this duel; it's gone beyond the scope of a friendly match."
Felix spoke calmly, "My sentiments align with yours, Filius, but I believe in Miss Granger."
A dozen black flames crashed onto the ground, reducing the grass to ashes. They looked like the footprints of descending demons. Hermione's eyes widened, evading in a flurry, all while casting Shield Charms to resist.
Harry and Ron stood on the side, their anxiety growing. They wanted to rush forward, but with professors present, they reluctantly restrained themselves. They watched as the black flames on the ground twisted into distorted serpentine forms, coiling and advancing toward her.
"What are the professors waiting for?" Harry asked, bewildered. He drew his wand, its tip flickering with light. He wondered, "What spell should I use now? Disarming Charm, Stunning Spell, Shield Charm, or Patronus Charm?" None of them seemed right... He just pointed his wand at "Graves," contemplating whether to cast a curse on him.
Hermione remained relatively composed. She had one last trump card. She glanced at Felix, who nodded at her. With that, she stopped in her tracks, allowing the black flames to envelop her. Her fingertips glowed with golden light.
Wilkins had raised his wand, and Ginny handed hers to Yuria. "Quick!" Following that, they heard an unfamiliar incantation from the girl.
Golden flames poured down from Hermione's palm. Compared to the small flame she had conjured in the Ancient Runes office over a month ago, it had grown into something colossal. The golden blaze surged like a flood, colliding with the approaching black flames. The black flames crumbled upon impact, shattered into fragments.
Graves' expression froze on his face.
The golden flames began to contract, ultimately forming a massive golden phoenix. It was far more intricate than the magical creature Biles had conjured before, with golden flames trailing from its tail feathers. A cluster of white flames burned above its head, resembling a phoenix.
The phoenix let out a resounding, melodious cry. In an instant, the golden phoenix appeared before the stunned Graves, just a foot away. His hair turned into ashes as it curled, and his pupils reflected the elongated, golden beak.
"This is what I wanted to see." Amidst the silence, Felix nodded with satisfaction.
...
Graves was led away, his expression somewhat vacant. As he left, the residue of unshakable fear remained in his eyes.
Professor Wilkins approached somewhat somberly, offering apologies to the professors of Hogwarts, "Graves... He... attached too much importance to this Triwizard Tournament. He carried the hopes of many and sought to restore his family's honor..."
"Graves?" Flitwick repeated, "That surname sounds familiar."
"The descendant of the Twelve Aurors, just like me. This makes me empathize with him. I relaxed my vigilance towards him." Wilkins explained, "More than seventy years ago, a scandal occurred in the American wizarding world. The security supervisor of the Magical Congress—Percival Graves—was impersonated," he explained grimly, "This caused a massive uproar and nearly exposed the entire American wizarding society."
"Impersonated?" Several professors turned to him.
"This matter is quite secretive," Wilkins said in a hushed voice, "Not many people outside know about it."
"Who impersonated him?" Felix asked with interest.
"Grindelwald." Wilkins mentioned only one surname, but everyone present knew who he was referring to.
"Involved with Grindelwald!" Flitwick exclaimed in surprise, "So, the boy just now..."
"Victor Percival Graves." Wilkins said,
>
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