(Gilderoy Lockhart)
Thursday, November 24, 1994
The day of the first task had finally arrived.
And I could proudly say that I had done absolutely everything within my power to prepare the champions for the mortal danger awaiting them.
Of course, I had done so while remaining within the rules of the tournament.
Technically.
Admittedly, I had bent those rules to such an extent they were now probably questioning their purpose in life, but importantly, they had not snapped.
That distinction mattered.
I had personally inspected the dragons when they arrived at Hogwarts several days earlier.
Magnificent, terrifyingly beautiful creatures.
For me, dealing with them would hardly be difficult. I could comfortably handle all three with my eyes closed and one hand behind my back.
Possibly while maintaining a conversation.
But the same certainly could not be said for ordinary wizards.
Even the dragon handlers, professionals with years of experience and enough scars to prove it, required teams of ten just to control the beasts despite the dragons already being restrained by enchanted chains.
Honestly, I still had absolutely no idea which lunatic suggested using nesting mothers for the task.
The dragons had been angry enough already.
A mother dragon protecting her eggs?
That crossed the line between dangerous and spectacularly stupid.
Fortunately, I had managed to intervene.
The Ministry officials had originally insisted on using real dragon eggs "to preserve authenticity."
Authenticity.
Right.
Because apparently potentially enraging giant magical reptiles for entertainment was considered a sensible decision.
The dragon handlers themselves had looked one step away from collective despair.
I still vividly remembered the expression on Charlie Weasley's face.
The poor young man had looked like someone had just informed him his house was on fire with his family inside.
Thankfully I had solved the problem elegantly.
I simply offered to create perfect replicas myself.
Identical in appearance.
Identical in magical signature.
Identical scent.
Even the dragons themselves would be unable to notice the difference.
The relief from the handlers had been immediate.
A few of them had nearly cried.
Charlie had shaken my hand for an uncomfortable amount of time.
I considered it one of my finer moments.
Now I sat comfortably within the stands of the newly constructed arena, observing the crowd below.
The structure itself was enormous.
Roughly twice the size of a Quidditch pitch, perhaps slightly larger.
And even then, every seat appeared occupied.
Students packed the stands shoulder to shoulder, voices merging into one massive wave of excitement and anticipation.
Foreign guests filled entire sections.
Teachers stood scattered throughout.
Ministry officials moved around importantly while pretending not to look nervous.
And beneath all that noise...
I could feel it.
That tension.
That anticipation before something happened.
To my left sat Aurora.
Baby Gienah rested in her arms, happily kicking her tiny feet while making adorable babbling noises at absolutely everything in sight.
"Ba!"
She pointed enthusiastically toward the arena.
Aurora smiled.
"Oh? You excited too?"
"Ba!"
I leaned over slightly.
"Excellent instincts," I said proudly. "Clearly she inherited my intelligence."
Aurora rolled her eyes.
"Yes dear, definitely your intelligence."
I narrowed my eyes suspiciously.
That sounded sarcastic.
Before I could investigate further, Gienah suddenly grabbed one of my fingers with her tiny hand and I immediately softened.
Beside me, Rosmerta hid a smile.
Traitor.
Speaking of Rosmerta...
I looked toward my right and felt another small wave of concern.
She sat comfortably enough, but heavily pregnant had become somewhat of an understatement at this point.
She looked ready to burst at any moment.
I had specifically told her to remain home and rest.
Repeatedly and firmly.
But then she had looked at me with those eyes and softly said:
"I'll be fine if you're with me."
Completely unfair.
Absolutely shameless manipulation.
I knew it.
She knew I knew it.
And somehow it still worked.
Rosmerta noticed me staring and smiled innocently.
"What?"
I stared at her.
"You know exactly what."
She blinked.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"...Mhmm."
She looked entirely too pleased with herself.
Meanwhile poor Tonks was absent today.
Unfortunately, she had returned to work only a month after giving birth and was currently drowning beneath what I strongly suspected was a mountain of paperwork created by her colleagues.
Or rather...
A mountain they had saved for her during her months of absence.
Such thoughtful coworkers.
Truly inspiring workplace behaviour.
I had briefly considered storming into the Ministry and setting the paperwork on fire.
Then I remembered that Tonks would probably still have to rewrite it afterward.
So unfortunately, arson had lost some appeal.
A trumpet suddenly sounded through the arena.
The crowd's chatter immediately began dying down and I straightened in my seat.
Ah.
Showtime.
…
"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the Ninety-Second Triwizard Tournament!"
Ludo Bagman's magically amplified voice boomed across the arena with enough enthusiasm to wake the dead.
"The first tournament in over two hundred years since its unfortunate cancellation!"
The crowd erupted into applause and cheers.
Bagman spread his arms dramatically in the centre of the arena, practically vibrating with excitement.
"Allow me to briefly introduce the history of this glorious tradition while our staff prepares the arena for the first champion!"
And so he began.
"The Triwizard Tournament was established in 1294 as a means of fostering friendship and cooperation between Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang…"
He enthusiastically continued explaining the history of the competition, mentioning famous champions, legendary victories, and various historical moments.
Ordinarily, people might have listened.
But unfortunately for Bagman, something far more interesting had just appeared.
The dragon handlers were guiding an enormous creature into the arena.
And suddenly nobody cared about history anymore.
The crowd's attention shifted as one.
A collective silence spread through the stands.
Even Bagman noticed and trailed off for a moment.
Slowly, the beast emerged.
Green scales shimmered beneath the sunlight like polished emeralds.
Massive wings folded tightly against its sides.
Four thick limbs supported its mountainous body, and every step made the ground tremble beneath its weight.
THUD.
THUD.
THUD.
The dragon's enormous tail dragged behind it, carving shallow grooves through the earth.
Then it lifted its head, its golden reptilian eyes sweeping across the arena.
Baby Gienah immediately pointed toward it excitedly.
"Ba!"
Aurora looked down.
"No dear," she said gently. "That is not a puppy."
"Ba!"
Seeing her shining eyes I rubbed my chin.
"Maybe I should get her one as a pet."
Aurora stared at me.
"She was pointing at the dragon."
"I know."
She narrowed her eyes.
"You're not getting our daughter a dragon as a pet!"
I raised my hands in surrender.
"It was just a thought."
Suddenly the Welsh Green jerked its head sharply and the chains around its neck snapped taut, causing the handlers holding it to be yanked off their feet violently.
Gasps immediately spread through the crowd.
The men flew through the air like ragdolls, but just as they were about to crash, they abruptly froze several feet above the ground.
A collective sigh of relief followed.
Apparently the handlers had prepared for such incidents beforehand.
Sensibly.
One of the suspended wizards simply sighed as though this happened every other day.
The dragon snorted smoke angrily and planted its feet firmly.
For a moment it seemed unwilling to move any farther.
Then...
Its eyes suddenly landed on the nest waiting in the middle of the arena.
Five eggs rested inside.
Four ordinary dragon eggs, and one golden egg hidden among them.
The dragon immediately surged forward, causing the crowd to collectively hold its breath.
It lowered its massive head toward the nest, and one by one, it inspected each egg carefully.
Several tense seconds passed, until finally… The dragon relaxed and a deep rumbling sound escaped its throat, almost like a purr.
Slowly, the enormous reptile curled itself protectively around the nest.
The handlers immediately moved into action again.
Chains were secured around heavy enchanted anchors buried deep beneath the arena floor.
Additional containment wards shimmered briefly around the perimeter.
Precautions upon precautions.
Good.
Very good.
Because dragons had a nasty tendency to interpret "suggestions" as optional.
Around me, several Hogwarts students suddenly looked very uncomfortable.
I understood why immediately.
They recognised it.
Last year during Fight Club I had created an artificial dragon for the students to fight, and it had been the same species as the one currently resting in the middle of the arena.
Only...
Mine had been somewhat smaller.
Quite a lot smaller, actually.
The comparison was becoming increasingly obvious.
I noticed a Hufflepuff boy several rows below staring at the creature with dawning horror.
"I FOUGHT THAT?!"
"No," his friend immediately corrected.
"We fought the discount version."
"THAT WAS THE DISCOUNT VERSION?!"
I looked away.
Details.
Ludo Bagman's voice rang out again.
"As you can see, our first champion shall face the fearsome Welsh Green!"
The dragon snorted grey smoke from its nostrils and several students flinched.
"But fear not!"
Bagman continued cheerfully.
"The champion merely needs to retrieve the golden egg hidden within the nest!"
I stared at him.
Merely.
Merely.
Yes.
Because stealing something from a nesting mother dragon was such a simple task.
Why stop there?
Perhaps next time they could merely ask contestants to tug on a sleeping manticore's tail.
Rosmerta leaned toward me.
"You're making that face again."
I blinked.
"What face?"
"The one where you silently judge everyone around you."
"…I have such a face?"
She stared at me.
"Yes."
"Ah, I hadn't noticed."
…