Wade walked up to Harry and asked quietly, "Ready?"
Harry forced a faint smile and nodded. "I'll try."
In truth, his stomach felt uneasy. He had the sense that if he said a few more words, he might vomit from nerves.
The two of them stepped into the tent and saw that most of the champions were already inside—
Fleur sat pale-faced in the corner, Viktor's expression was dark, Cedric was pacing back and forth, Seraphina's fingers tapped her wand without pause, Asada Chinatsu's lips were moving as if silently reciting a spell, Jabari Viven—who had previously turned into a rat—was rocking in his chair, and Baboucarr Okondo was doing squat exercises.
Each person looked different, but they all shared the same trace of tension and fear in their eyes. Just from the expressions on their faces, it was clear that everyone knew what they were about to face.
The tent was silent. No one spoke.
After more than ten minutes, the remaining contestants filed in one by one. Bagman cheerfully lifted the flap and came in.
"All right, since you're all here, let's go over the situation!"
He said brightly, "Because more than half of the contestants will be eliminated in this round, and to avoid any unfairness from scoring, after more than half a month of very difficult discussion, we have decided to cancel the usual Triwizard scoring system—only those who achieve the objective can move on to the second round!"
"The rules are like this: first, you'll draw a small model from this bag, each with a number. That will determine the order in which you compete."
He shook the purple silk bag in his hand.
"Next, you'll need to pass through a certain obstacle and reach a compass in the middle of the arena… oh, don't worry about missing it—it's very obvious."
"The compass will transport you into a prepared field, where sixteen golden eggs are hidden. Only students who retrieve a golden egg and return safely will avoid elimination and proceed to the next round… any questions?"
Bagman's face was lit with excitement as he looked around at them expectantly. But the tent remained silent—everyone seemed determined not to ask any unnecessary questions.
—Of course, it could also be that many were still mentally rehearsing the sequence of the contest and hadn't thought of what to ask.
Bagman waited for over ten seconds, then loosened the drawstrings of the bag and held it out to the nearest person—Harry.
"Go on, pick one. Everyone's chances are the same."
Harry glanced at Wade, then reached in and pulled out a black egg, about the size of an ordinary chicken egg, with the white number "3" on it.
The next moment, the egg cracked in his hand, and a small black dragon emerged, spreading its wings and spitting a tiny burst of flame.
Harry's face went deathly pale—this was one of the most dangerous dragons of all, the Hungarian Horntail.
"Oh…"
Bagman let out a soft gasp, surprised at Harry's misfortune. But he had no time to comment and quickly passed the bag to the next contestant.
Soon, Wade also drew an egg, a green one, with the number "1."
He thought he had been lucky, drawing the Welsh Green—but as the shell broke, out came a pitch-black creature. Its little tail gave a single sweep, smashing the egg shell beside it.
It was a Scottish Black Dragon.
Wade narrowed his eyes slightly as information about this type of fire-dragon flashed quickly through his mind:
An adult Scottish Black Dragon could grow up to thirty feet in length. From the back of its skull down its spine ran a row of jagged, knife-sharp spines, and the tip of its tail ended in a thin, pointed arrowhead that could easily pierce a person through.
The Scottish Black Dragon was highly territorial, adept at sweeping attacks with its tail, and its fire-breathing range was only average.
Its weakness was its relatively sluggish movement, combined with a violent temper.
Not bad luck at all.
Wade rather liked dealing with sluggish creatures.
On the other side, Fleur—who had drawn the Welsh Green—had at first been wearing a resigned expression. But when she saw the two dragons that Harry and Wade had picked, her face brightened just a little.
Though, her eyes seemed to say: "Poor boys, you're as good as dead."
After everyone had drawn the dragon they would face, Bagman cheerfully announced:
"You've all seen your opponents, haven't you? The number on the eggshell is your order of appearance. In a moment, someone will come to take you to where you need to be. Now then… Harry… would you come with me? I've got a few words to say to you."
Harry, clutching the little dragon model in his hand, followed the judge out with a blank expression.
Soon after, a boy with curly brown hair poked his head into the tent and asked, "Who drew the Scottish Black Dragon? Please come with me."
"Rolf?" Wade exclaimed in surprise. "Why is it you?"
This boy was the grandson of Newt Scamander. Wade sometimes corresponded with Mr. Scamander, and he got along well with Rolf too. But since they weren't in the same year, they didn't often meet face-to-face.
"Wade!" Rolf said happily. "I knew I'd run into you, so I hurried over first! Oh… you got the Scottish Black Dragon? What a coincidence."
Meanwhile, four others stepped out of the tent as well: Jabari from Uagadou, Natalia from Koldovstoretz, Hope from Salem, and Ganish from Mantra.
As they walked, Rolf chattered on:
"Last night, the Head of House said in the common room that the tournament needed a few volunteers and asked who wanted to sign up. I put my name down—and luckily there weren't many people then, otherwise I wouldn't have been chosen!"
"What do the volunteers have to do?" Ganish asked in slightly awkward English. "Boy, where are we going now?"
A tall wooden wall blocked their view, so they couldn't see the scene beyond. All they could hear was the distant hum of the excited crowd in the stands—and the roars of the dragons.
"Why, to where the Scottish Black Dragon is, of course!" Rolf turned back and flashed him a bright smile. "My job is simple—lead the champions to their spot, then remind them of their turn when it comes."
He tilted his head, asking excitedly, "Wade, which number are you?"
Wade picked up the broken shell of his egg and showed the number printed on it.
"First? First is good too." Rolf encouraged his friend, "The earlier you go in, the easier it is to find a golden egg."
Wade smiled. "That's what I think as well."
"Go for it!" Rolf clenched his fist. "I knew you could do it!"
"There's no harm in going later either," Jabari said, pretending to be relaxed. "I'm number five. You all do your best—wear down the dragon—and maybe I'll just stroll in and touch the compass."
"By then there might not be any golden eggs left, and you won't make it to the second round," Rolf reminded him.
Walking at the back, Hope suddenly said in a low voice, "You could steal one."
Rolf blinked. "Huh?"
"That's right," Natalia grinned. "Not finding a golden egg doesn't mean you can't take one."
She glanced at Wade. "Be careful. Only those who return safely with a golden egg are the winners."
Wade replied calmly, "Then you'd better be careful too—because when you go looking for a golden egg, I might already be lying in ambush right there."
The two exchanged smiles, and for a moment when their eyes met, it was as though sparks flew—an undercurrent of sharp intent.
Ganish rubbed his chin, then slowly drawled, "Tell me… if everyone's thinking the same way as you two, will there really be sixteen people left at the end?"
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