"I actually lost?"
In the arena, Kelly still couldn't believe he'd let victory slip through his fingers. What had felt "so good" a moment ago now turned into a "terrible feeling." He didn't even know how he was going to face Snape's scowling face after this.
No doubt, the Head of Slytherin would look at him with that cold, contemptuous glare and sneer:
"Lost to a first-year, Kelly Ralph? I'm ashamed on your behalf. Perhaps you should return to the first-year classes for retraining—or better yet, have Madam Pomfrey check if your brain still works. My mistake was letting you advance in the first place!"
No matter how dejected he felt, Kelly had no choice but to leave the field.The arena would soon be cleared, and the next contestants would have to draw lots again.
"Whew—" Kelly exhaled, recalling his Ariados. "You did well." Then he turned his gaze toward Harry.
Harry and Pikachu glared back without hesitation.
Slytherins were always like that—annoying to the last breath. Even in defeat, they rarely admitted their shortcomings outright; instead, they left behind sharp words, as if they were some kind of Dark-type Pokémon themselves.
"Harry Potter, your Pikachu is strong. I trained my Spinarak in secret to evolve into Ariados, and I still lost. Next time, we'll battle again."
With that, Kelly turned and left without another word, leaving Harry and Pikachu staring at each other in confusion.
"When did Slytherins become so polite?" Harry murmured, puzzled.
Back in the waiting room, Ron and the others immediately crowded around to congratulate him. Harry had heard this kind of praise plenty of times before—mostly after Quidditch matches—but this time felt different.
"Congratulations, Potter," said Cho Chang, smiling brightly as she approached.
Harry froze on the spot.
Ron, still clueless, wondered why his best friend had suddenly gone silent."I'm telling you, Harry, that last move with Pikachu was incredible! Harry? Are you even listening?"
"Uh—yes! I mean—hi!" Harry stammered awkwardly.
"What are you—" Ron didn't even get to finish before Harry pressed a palm over his face and pushed him aside.
"What are you doing?" Ron protested.
"Looks like our little Ronnie still hasn't grown up," Fred said, strolling over with George. Both twins shook their heads and gave Ron's hair a patronizing pat.
"Exactly. He still doesn't know what's truly interesting," George added.
"But I think Harry might have a strong rival," Fred said, glancing toward Cedric Diggory, who was standing not far away—his eyes practically burning with jealousy.
George followed his brother's gaze. "Forget Cedric—I'm more worried about Ginny. What'll she do if Harry actually gets somewhere?"
"Don't worry," Fred replied confidently. "Ginny's not like our dear little Ronnie."He couldn't resist another jab at Ron while praising his sister.
"Stop calling me that! And what are you even talking about?" Ron shouted, fuming.
"You'll understand when you're older," George said with a grin as they walked away.
Teasing their younger brother was one of their greatest joys in life.
Unable to stand it any longer, Ron grabbed the still-flustered Harry and dragged him away."Come on, Harry, let's go! Stop spacing out—Wood's up next!"
Watching this, Cedric nearly jumped for joy—he could've kissed Ron on the spot.
Cedric:If you don't mind, sir, I'd gladly call you father!
Soon, the second round began.
This time, the duel was between a Ravenclaw wizard and Oliver Wood. Both were fifth-years, and the match promised to be no less exciting than the last.
Wood's two Pokémon were both Flying-type. His Spearow had evolved into Fearow, and his Pidgey into Pidgeotto. These two species were known to dislike each other fiercely; back when Wood first caught them, he'd spent ages trying to make them cooperate.
Fortunately, once Pokémon left their natural flocks, their temperaments gradually changed.
The arena for the second match was a rugged, rocky desert. Charles Gold had enchanted the field himself, summoning a moderate sandstorm to make things more realistic.
In terms of level and base stats, Fearow clearly had the upper hand.However, navigating narrow rocky cliffs required agility, so Wood chose to send out Pidgeotto instead.
Madame Maxime and the other judges were completely absorbed in the battle. Even the American Aurors mingling among the spectators were watching intently.
In fact, they'd already found the "evidence" they needed during the first match—after all, Pikachu appeared frequently in the Muggle Pokémon comics. Yet instead of leaving immediately, they decided to stay at Hogwarts and watch the entire tournament.
They weren't here to protest Pokémon themselves, only to investigate their appearance in the Muggle world. In truth, they were now seriously considering the possibility of introducing Pokémon into American wizarding society.
Among the thousand or so spectators, the only one who seemed distracted was Karkaroff.
The old man sat with his head tilted, one hand pressed to his forehead, visibly uneasy.
"What's wrong, Karkaroff?" Dumbledore asked kindly, noticing his discomfort. But behind the half-moon spectacles, his bright blue eyes glinted with thought.
"Nothing, just a slight headache. It's a bit high up here—the wind's strong," Karkaroff replied quickly.
Then he took the chance to strike up conversation.
"Dumbledore, my old friend, how many matches will there be today? Or will it go on until a champion is decided?"
"Oh, no," Dumbledore said with a small smile. "There are thirty-six contestants in total. Today we'll narrow them down to sixteen. As you know, Pokémon need rest too. The remaining matches will continue tomorrow—each trainer will only battle once per day."
"I see." Karkaroff nodded thoughtfully. "So the order for the second round will also be randomized?"
"Not quite," Dumbledore explained. "For instance, since Harry won the first match, when the sixteen are decided, he'll face the winner of the second match."
"Ah, I understand now," Karkaroff said, falling silent.
He'd asked all he needed. Now all that remained was to wait for today's tournament to end—and prepare.
The master's plan must be carried out, he thought grimly. Otherwise, I'm as good as dead…
His cold gaze swept toward the battlefield, where the two wizards' Pokémon clashed fiercely. In his mind, he was already calculating how to obtain Harry Potter's blood.
Perhaps… he'd need a little Polyjuice Potion?
Looks like he'd have to make a trip to Knockturn Alley tonight.
(End of Chapter)