Under this atmosphere, June 24th finally arrived.
From the morning on, the entire Great Hall was unusually lively.
Even with two exams still left to sit, no one was thinking about them at all. Everyone was buzzing over the final showdown, still a dozen or so hours away.
As for Lynn, he'd earned back his "national treasure" treatment first thing that morning.
The moment he sat down at the Hufflepuff table, a mountain of food piled up in front of him.
Lynn stared blankly for a moment.
He looked up and found several pairs of eyes fixed on him.
He glanced to his left.
A girl instantly stood up and brought over a plate of pies, practically trying to feed one straight into Lynn's mouth.
He glanced to his right.
Justin Finch-Fletchley put down his fork at once and stood, ready to sprint toward the kitchen.
"Wait, wait, wait—"
Lynn quickly called out to stop him.
Justin turned back. "Lynn, need something else?"
Lynn didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "I don't need anything else. Really. This is already plenty."
Justin looked at the mountain of food in front of him, then at Lynn, nodded, and sat back down.
But Ernie Macmillan, sitting nearby, sprang up next.
"Lynn, I'll go ask the house-elves to bake a few more meat pies for you. In case you get hungry during the match."
Lynn: "..."
"No need, thanks."
"Butterbeer, then?"
"No need for that either."
"Then..."
"Ernie," Lynn cut in, "sit down and eat."
Only then did Ernie sit, though his eyes kept drifting back toward Lynn every so often.
Lynn sighed and bent his head to work through the pile of food in front of him.
"By the way, your odds of winning the championship right now are 1:1.1," Justin leaned in again, slip of paper in hand, "practically a runaway lead."
Lynn nodded and kept eating.
Nearby, Edgar watched all this, clicking his tongue in envy.
"Lynn," he said dryly, "starting your retirement early?"
Lynn didn't even look up. "If you can walk the maze for me, I'll hand this treatment straight over to you."
Edgar decisively shut his mouth.
—
At dusk.
The setting sun stained the horizon in a blend of warm orange and deep purple, its glow spilling over the towers of Hogwarts Castle, gilding the old stones in a golden halo.
Everyone ate an early dinner and flocked to the Quidditch Pitch in twos and threes.
The crowd moved like a woven tapestry, thick with laughter and chatter, lively as a festival.
When Lynn and the others reached the pitch, the sight in front of them stopped everyone in their tracks.
The Quidditch Pitch had completely transformed.
A hedge over thirty feet tall, like a massive dark green wall, ringed the entire field. It was so dense that nothing inside could be seen, its top trimmed perfectly neat, casting heavy shadows in the fading light.
A dozen or so dark openings lined its edge, like the gaping mouths of giant beasts.
Those were the entrances for the third task—one for each champion.
Above the pitch, the familiar giant screen floated overhead, cycling through advertisements. Compared to the first two tasks, there were simply far more ads this time around.
"Honeydukes Sweetshop, wishing the champions a sweet victory!"
"Zonko's Joke Shop—the secret weapon to make your opponents laugh their way into surrender!"
"Epoch-Making Alchemy, the champions' first choice! The Star Chaser Broomstick, helping you get out of the maze first!"
Lynn looked at that particular ad, the corner of his mouth curling up slightly. Allie's timing on that placement was pretty sharp.
He pulled his gaze back and looked toward the pitch entrance.
There, the champions had gathered in small clusters, chatting about the upcoming match.
Most of them looked fairly relaxed.
Partly because, after the first two tasks, the tension and sense of the unknown around the whole competition had faded a good deal.
Partly, though—
they also just knew where they stood; actually winning the championship was more or less hopeless for most of them.
So most champions had simply lowered their expectations enough to feel comfortable coasting whenever they liked, having already written themselves off as underdogs.
Ryan leaned against the hedge, chatting with Thomas and Jordan. Spotting Lynn, he waved.
"Lynn! Over here!"
Lynn walked over.
Ryan looked him up and down and clicked his tongue twice. "You don't look nervous at all."
Lynn shrugged. "What's there to be nervous about? Walk in, take a stroll, find the cup, walk out."
Ryan let out a strangled laugh. "You sure make it sound easy."
Lynn smiled. "What, should I go in crying instead?"
Ryan pictured that and laughed too.
Just as the champions were chatting happily—
Ludo Bagman, in bright yellow and purple robes, a small cloth bag in hand, walked over to the group.
"Good evening, champions!"
He came up to them, opened the bag, and pulled out several palm-sized metal cylinders.
"These are your distress signal devices."
He handed one to Cedric, standing closest.
"If you run into trouble and need rescue, fire a signal flare into the sky. Someone will come help you shortly after."
Cedric took the cylinder and examined it carefully.
It looked a bit like a Muggle firework—silver casing, a red button at the base.
"Understood?" Bagman's gaze swept over the group.
The champions all nodded.
"Understood."
"Also—" Bagman tucked the bag away, his expression growing a touch more serious, "I need to run through the rules one more time."
He cleared his throat.
"First, all flying items are prohibited. Summoning brooms with Accio, magic carpets, that sort of thing—none of it's allowed."
The moment he finished, every eye in the group swung toward the Hogwarts champions.
Roger's face flushed slightly.
Cedric's went redder still.
Harry's turned completely red.
The three of them each thought: This rule's aimed straight at us, isn't it. We really had been planning exactly that.
Lynn, standing nearby, watched their expressions and nearly burst out laughing.
Bagman went on.
"Second, damaging the maze's layout is forbidden. That includes, but isn't limited to, digging straight through or destroying walls."
This time, every gaze turned—toward Lynn.
Lynn: "..."
He scratched his head; he'd wanted to try that one too.
"Those are the only two rules. Everything else... comes down to your own skill."
He finished handing out the cylinders and hurried off toward the commentary box, his voice trailing back from a distance. "Good luck to you all!"
The champions scattered as well, each heading toward their assigned entrance under staff guidance.
Before long, Ludo Bagman's magically amplified voice rang out across the stands.
It cut through the night and the noise of the crowd, reaching every ear with perfect clarity.
"Ladies and gentlemen—"
He drew the words out deliberately, building the suspense.
"The final task of the Triwizard Tournament... is finally about to begin!"
The moment he finished, a deafening cheer erupted from the stands.
The sound rolled like waves, each cresting higher than the last, making the whole pitch tremble faintly.
As his voice carried on, those Golden Snitch-style detectors darted quickly toward the champions from every direction.
The ads on the giant screen vanished.
In their place appeared the figures of the nineteen champions, hurrying toward their respective entrances.
The cheering from the stands grew even louder.
"Seems the champions aren't quite ready yet," Ludo's voice carried a hint of teasing, "so let me announce everyone's current scores and give you all one more chance to feel the gap!"
He cleared his throat.
"In first place—Lynn! One hundred and seventy-nine points!"
On the giant screen, Lynn's image swelled larger. Beside it appeared the points he'd earned in the first two rounds, along with his total—those numbers glittering gold, impossible to miss.
The Hogwarts students clapped wildly; anyone unfamiliar with the scene might've mistaken it for an army on the march.
In the Hufflepuff stands, Edgar stood right at the front, hands raised over his head, clapping so hard his voice had nearly gone hoarse from shouting. William and Ollie stood behind him; not quite as wild as Edgar, but their faces shone with pride all the same.
"Behind Mr. Lynn—" Ludo's voice continued, "the Ilvermorny champions! One hundred and forty-eight points! In third place..."
Down through seventh place, Ludo's voice paused.
"Durmstrang... ten points."
The whole venue went quiet for a beat.
Then—
a burst of poorly suppressed laughter rippled through the stands.
In the Durmstrang section, students dropped their heads, looking like they wished they could bury their faces entirely.
Ludo pretended not to notice the awkward mood and pressed on. "Each school's scores are coming up in order, and now—"
He drew the moment out.
"Finally, every champion has reached their entrance and is in position!"
On the giant screen, nineteen images froze at once. Nineteen champions stood before nineteen dark entrances, waiting for the signal.
The night wind blew, and the hedge gave a faint rustle.
The stands fell silent.
Everyone held their breath.
Ludo Bagman's voice carried clearly to each champion through their detectors.
"Are you ready?"
Nineteen voices rang out at once, some loud, some nervous, some perfectly calm, but every one of them audible:
"Ready!" ×19
"Good," Ludo took a deep breath and raised the whistle in his hand.
"Three... two... one... let the match begin!"
---
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