— — — — — —
The storage room had no windows. It was pitch-black, the kind where you couldn't even see your own hand. The air carried a faint, musty smell from old broomsticks.
Rita Skeeter took out a few candles and lit them, letting them float in midair. The flames flickered unsteadily, casting shifting light across her face, half in shadow, half illuminated. It also revealed the bead of sweat sliding down Jauncey's temple, tracing along his jaw.
…Was this right?
Those weren't even his words. But the more he thought about it, the more it almost sounded like something he could have meant.
"Don't worry about the quill," Rita said brightly. "Just a little journalist's trick. If I had to write everything by hand, my wrist would give out before I finished a single article."
"You don't actually think that's the final draft, do you?"
"Of course not." Jauncey clutched the hem of his robe, forcing a stiff smile. "It's just… a bit exaggerated."
"Relax. I'll polish it before it goes to print."
She stressed the word polish, tapping the quill lightly with her finger. That seemed to reassure him a little.
"Alright, let's continue."
Her questions came rapid-fire. "What do you think of Hogwarts? How does it compare to Ilvermorny? And Dumbledore, do you consider him a competent headmaster?"
She spoke so quickly that Jauncey barely had time to think. He felt like he was being led along without even realizing it.
After a moment's thought, he answered, "Hogwarts has a longer history than Ilvermorny. It's a fine magical school, but I haven't really seen many advantages yet. The living conditions aren't as good as Ilvermorny's."
"Dumbledore? Well… he's a great wizard. Very approachable, always smiling."
In truth, he wasn't impressed with either Hogwarts or Dumbledore. He'd even boasted to his classmates that he would take first place in the second round, to avenge the three teammates who had been sent home.
But in front of the press? There was no way he'd dare say that. Someone like Dumbledore wasn't even a person the headmaster would provoke lightly.
Rita nodded repeatedly. "Very good. It seems you have your own thoughts on British education."
Her quill, however, never stopped. It raced across the parchment with a frantic scratch:
{Champion Jauncey Shows Open Contempt for Hogwarts—Claims the Institution Is Rotten to the Core! Declares Both the School and Its Leadership Outdated Relics Fit for the Trash! Especially Targeting Headmaster Dumbledore, Jauncey Suggests He's Senile and Grins Foolishly at Everyone!}
The candle flames seemed to instinctively avoid the parchment. Rita tapped the metal bucket she was sitting on, the hollow clang snapping Jauncey back to attention.
"Last question. What are your expectations for the tournament? Do you think you can take first place?"
There didn't seem to be any trap in that one. Jauncey relaxed instantly and broke into a grin.
"My performance in the first task was pretty solid. I can't guarantee first place, but I don't think I'll do poorly either. I'd say consistency is one of my strengths."
{Champion Jauncey Dismisses All Competitors as Worthless—Declares None Pose Any Threat! Points to First Task Results as Proof of His Superiority!}
"Thank you for your cooperation." Rita stood, smiling as she shook his hand. "You'll be seeing your interview in the papers and morning news very soon."
Jauncey still looked a bit uneasy. "You're sure you'll… polish it, right?"
"Of course." Rita's bright red lips curled slightly. "On my professional reputation."
At last, Jauncey let out a breath of relief. He pushed open the door and left the broom closet, completely missing the mocking glint in Rita's eyes.
Professional reputation?
Since when did reporters have one of those?
Poor Jauncey had no idea what was coming. The moment he stepped into the Great Hall, he noticed his professor giving him a meaningful look.
After dinner, the two slipped away to a quiet corner of the courtyard garden.
"Don't go to bed too early tonight," the professor said in a low voice. "Come with me. We'll take a look at the second task in advance."
Jauncey nodded eagerly.
Other champions had received similar hints from their own professors or headmasters…
All except Daphne.
It wasn't that the Hogwarts staff were deliberately singling her out. It simply hadn't occurred to them.
Aside from Snape, the other three Heads of House were straightforward to a fault. In the original tournament, Cedric had only learned about the task because Harry tipped him off.
If this year's Slytherin champion had been someone else, Snape might have offered a bit of help. But since it was Daphne, he didn't bother.
With Tom around, when would it ever be his turn to step in?
...
Night fell quickly.
At midnight, Tom woke Daphne, who had already fallen asleep. He helped her get dressed, brought along Astoria, and the two of them practically dragged the sleepy heiress down to the entrance hall.
Tom stopped short when he saw the lineup of pretty girls waiting there. A helpless look spread across his face.
"…Why are you all here?"
"We're going to cheat," he said. "This isn't exactly something to be proud of."
"To see the dragons!" Penelope's eyes shone with excitement. "I've only ever seen one when I was little. All the others, I've only read about in books!"
The others nodded eagerly. Dragons were the kind of creatures that mostly existed on parchment and in textbooks.
Tom glanced at Hermione.
It was one thing for the others to say they'd never seen a dragon. But Hermione had spent time with him in Egypt. She'd seen those dragons every day.
Hermione smiled shyly and lowered her voice. "Everyone else is coming. It'd feel weird if I didn't."
Tom went quiet.
That was… a very strong argument. He had no way to refute it.
Well, they were already here. It's not like he could send them all back.
Might as well treat it as a midnight group outing.
The group made their way toward the Forbidden Forest in a noisy cluster. Tom cast Disillusionment Charms on each of them, but it was basically pointless. The girls chattered nonstop about dragons, their laughter carrying far into the cold night air.
They walked along the edge of the forest for quite a while, until the castle and lake were completely out of sight. Up ahead, low growls echoed through the darkness, mixed with the shouts of men.
The girls finally quieted down.
They'd spotted figures.
In a wide, open valley, several bonfires burned. A group of wizards gathered around them, singing and dancing. Meat roasted over the flames, golden fat dripping down and flaring the fire higher.
"Gulp—"
Tom turned his head. Daphne was swallowing hard.
When she noticed him looking, she didn't even try to hide it. Her lips glistened slightly as she looked at him pitifully.
"Tom… I'm hungry."
Smack.
Astoria expressionlessly grabbed her sister's head and turned it the other way. "Sister, did you forget why we came here?"
Only then did Daphne notice the enclosure ahead.
Inside a fenced camp reinforced with thick wooden boards stood seven dragons, each a different breed. Heavy iron chains bound their powerful legs, and bursts of flame shot from their mouths into the sky.
"Fireball, Short-Snout, Ridgeback, Ironbelly, Antipodean Opaleye, Welsh Green, Hebridean Black… and the most vicious of them all, the Hungarian Horntail."
Tom listed them off like he was reciting a menu.
The one that caught the girls' attention the most was the Opaleye. It was easily the most beautiful of the lot. Its scales shimmered like pearlescent rainbows, glowing faintly with soft, shifting colors. Its body was slender, and its face far less ferocious than the others.
"So…" Daphne finally sobered up, hesitating. "What exactly is our task?"
"Take a golden egg from under a dragon's protection."
Fleur's expression changed instantly. "Are they trying to get us killed?"
Dragons were fiercely territorial creatures. Forget taking an egg, even moving a single stone could provoke their fury.
Daphne, on the other hand, didn't react much.
They were just dragons. After everything she'd been through, she didn't feel much fear toward creatures like this.
They circled the camp for a while. Fleur kept edging closer to the dragons, trying to get used to the overwhelming pressure they gave off. But before long, professors from other schools began arriving with their own students. Not wanting to get caught, they had no choice but to retreat, glancing back every few steps.
...
..
The next day, the champions who had seen the dragons all looked preoccupied.
They had only one day to prepare. The task would take place tomorrow, and everyone was racking their brains for a way to deal with dragons.
The moment Jauncey walked into the Great Hall, he felt countless eyes land on him.
It left him baffled.
Why did everyone look like they wanted to punch him?
Then an Ilvermorny student approached, wearing a complicated expression, and shoved a newspaper into his hands.
"Daniel… confidence is a good thing," the student said awkwardly. "But you don't have to say everything out loud. Try to keep a lower profile next time."
Jauncey frowned and looked down.
The headline nearly made his vision go black.
{Ilvermorny Champion Exposed as a Product of Favoritism? Jauncey Declares: 'All Other Champions Are Trash!'}
With a headline like that, it wasn't just the other schools who wanted to hit him.
Even he thought it was outrageous.
This was what she meant by "polishing"?!
Fighting off the urge to faint, Jauncey gripped the newspaper so tightly his knuckles turned white. The pages crumpled under his fingers as he forced himself to read Rita Skeeter's article from beginning to end.
Good… very good…
She hadn't broken her promise. She'd polished it so thoroughly it barely resembled anything he'd said.
{"My family background gives me the strength and confidence I need. I know I'm different from others, because I've received a more professional education since childhood. I was born above them."}
{"Dumbledore? A senile old fool. I'm not even sure he can still tell the difference between his own students and those from other schools.}
{I think what he did in New York should've landed him in Azkaban."}
{"I'll prove it with my performance. I'll slap him in the face and show the world Hogwarts isn't worth mentioning."}
By the time he finished, Jauncey collapsed onto the table, his body twitching faintly.
.
.
.