Godfather And Godson - Chapter 143

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The parties and gatherings continued through the weekend as party after party was thrown by one Great Wizard Lord after the other.

When Harry awoke on Monday morning, he felt the excitement nearly reaching a fever pitch throughout the school. Tomorrow would be the first trial and even though all Hogwarts students had a free today everyone was only talking about the Triwizard tournament.

Harry took this day to relax and really do nothing. His plan of action was set and he would have to count on it working out. There was no point in worrying himself sick like so many other champions were and he saw no point in going over training regimens for the last minute and tiring himself out before the big trial.

Best to lay back and relax, and that is what he did with Dobby providing all that he needed and him just taking it easy. One thing he found out that day was that the little house-elf gave a really killer massage as he got to all the aches and knots he did not even know he had.

Harry made himself separate from everyone around him, to spend some alone time before the big day.

The next day, after he had himself a very light breakfast, Professor McGonagall hurried over to him in the Great Hall. Lots of people were watching as he wasn’t the only one approached, other school champions were spoken to by their respected school master. While he and Cedric were approached by their respected Head of House.

“Potter, the champions have to come down onto the grounds now….” she said in a low tone, then taking a pause she uttered, “You have to get ready for your first task.”

“Okay,” Harry said, standing up, his fork falling onto his plate with a clatter.

“Good luck, Harry,” Hermione whispered. “You’ll be fine!”

“Yea, you got this,” Neville reassured him.

“Give them hell Harry,” Fred and George shouted in unison.

“Waiting for you to win,” Colin gushed.

“Thanks,” Harry said to his friends, who all supported him through this.

He left the Great Hall with Professor McGonagall. She didn’t seem herself at all, she looked nearly as anxious as Hermione had been. As she walked him down the stone steps and out into the cold November afternoon, she put her hand on his shoulder.

“Now, don’t panic,” she said when really she could have used those words herself. “Just keep a cool head when the first trail begins… You don’t have to show off or even win this, just surviving would do. And we got wizards standing by to control the situation if it gets out of hand… The main thing is just to do your best, and nobody will think any the worse of you….’

“Don’t worry, Professor McGonagall,” Harry said as he smiled at her reassuringly. “I got this!”

She was leading him toward the place where the dragons were, around the edge of the forest, but when they approached the clump of trees behind which the enclosure would be clearly visible, Harry saw that a tent had been erected, its entrance facing them, screening the dragons from view.

“You’re to go in here with the other champions,” said Professor McGonagall, in a rather shaky sort of voice, “and wait for your turn, Potter. Mr. Bagman is in there… he’ll be telling you the — the procedure. . . . Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, in a cheerful voice as if he just wasn’t about to go up against f.u.c.k.i.n.g Dragons! Professor McGonagall gave him one final glance and then left him at the entrance of the tent. Harry went inside.

Walking inside the tent, Harry saw that a few champions were already in. Fleur Delacour was sitting in a corner on a low wooden stool. She didn’t look nearly as composed as usual, but rather pale and clammy. Her fingers twitched to the side of her skirt which she held in a death grip.

Viktor Krum looked even surlier than usual, which Harry supposed was his way of showing nerves. Though other than that he kept it well inside.

Tang Zhou was also here as he seemed to be meditating on his chair to get rid of all distractions before the trial.

Cedric was pacing up and down the tent which had plenty of room, so he had space to wear himself out.

While Sinopa Zuni and Jasmine Senna were speaking in low tones together as they seem to have formed a fast friendship.

When Harry entered, Viktor gave him a small nod, which Harry returned. And James gave him a wave which he returned as well.

“Harry! Good-o!” Bagman said happily, looking around at him. “Come in, come in, make yourself at home!” Bagman looked somehow like a slightly overblown cartoon figure, standing amid all the pale-faced champions. He was wearing his old Wasp robes again with his slack personality and his usual smile.

“Good morning, Bagman,” Harry nodded his head to the man.

“Indeed a very good morning,” the man said, “glad to see that you could make it.”

Raising a single eyebrow, Harry made no comment, he didn’t fault the man for thinking that he might have run away. “So where are the rest of the champions?”

“They should be arriving any minute now.”

Just then a fight broke out, turning around Harry saw Cedric and Fleur arguing with each other.

“Why can’t you just take a seat?” Fleur was shouting.

“Why do you care what I do?” Cedric was returning fire.

“I care bécaus yo’ ar distracting everyone,” Fleur answered back.

“Can’t agree anymore there,” Viktor nodded his head.

Turning his scathing look at the seeker, Cedric growled, “This has nothing to do with you. So stay out of it!”

“Alright, alright,” Bagman said, breaking things up. “You are all on edge. I sure was before a big game. Just breathe it out.”

“You English and yur mannairs,” Fleur muttered as she turned her head away.

“Hey what’s that supposed to mean,” Cedric shouted.

Bagman tried his best but scathing remarks were thrown around willy nilly. Soon more champions were drawn in and Harry was just waiting for a full on fight to break out any time soon.

And that was the scene that Hinako Miya walked into hurrying along as she called out. “Sorry I am late!” Then she drew up short as she saw everyone at each their throat.

Looking around uncertainty the young Japanese witch slowly walked to a corner as she kept herself as close to the tent wall as possible.

Then Sílvia Santos the champion for Castelobruxo entered and she was brave enough to ask, “What’s going on here?”

“You don’t even want to know,” Harry answered.

Finally Ali Abbassid came in, who looked like he came from a really wild party, “Hey Harry,” he called out. Then looking around the room, he whispered to him, “What’s going on?”

“Drama and what not,” Harry shrugged his shoulders.

Then at long last entered Catherine III who just stared at everyone and made no effort to even get to know what was happening as she seemed to care less. He did notice her eyes rested a while on him as they narrowed into slits.

Harry didn’t pay any attention to her.

He could care less what her royal highness thought of him or for that matter the whole royal Russian family. They were no friends of his so there was no point in trying to seek an alliance with them.

The Tsar and his line have been a dark family since antiquity, they had gone on to fund many of Dark Lords, most prominent in recent history being Grindelwald himself.

They have tried many times to reach their hands towards Europe, but the European wizarding communities have been able to keep them back.

So if he had offended her royal highness then too bad, she would just have to deal with it because he didn’t care.

Seeing that they were all here, Bagman seemed to be glad to get on with his job for the day and step back from those arguments. “Well, now we’re all here, it is time to fill you in!” he said happily.

“When the audience has assembled, I’m going to be offering each of you this bag” he said as he held up a small sack of purple silk and shook it at them. “From it, you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different — er — varieties, you see, different species of dr-… I mean creatures you will each have to face. And I have to tell you something else too … O, yes … your task is to collect the golden egg!”

“Is zat it?” Catherine III asked, “just get the golden egg?”

“Yes,” Bagman nodded his head, “you safely get the egg, you pass. The Headmasters and mistress will score you on how well and effectively you collect the egg. Other than that, your strategy of getting past the dra-…. I mean beast is up to you.”

“Zat sounds easy, arre you sure zere isn’t more to it?” Catherine asked with a bored expression.

“Did you just ‘ear ‘im, we will ‘ave to face dragons! How does zat sound easy to you?”

“Wait, you aren’t supposed to know that,” Bagman uttered in complete shock and surprise.

However he was ignored as Catherine shrugged her shoulder, “So?”

That was the moment that everyone heard the crowds coming in. Even all the way here hundreds upon hundreds of voices could be heard from beyond the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking, and having a good time all around.

The games have just began!

“Okay, let’s get started,” Bagman said as he opened the neck of the purple silk sack.

“Ladies first,” he said, offering it to the females first. Catherine stepped up first as she put a hand inside the bag and drew out a tiny, perfect model of a dragon — a Chinese Fireball. It had the number six around its neck.

Then Fleur came up as she drew a perfect model of a dragon, or more specifically a Welsh Green dragon with a number four on it. After her, Sílvia came up drawing out her own model of a dragon and quickly all the girls collected their own little models with numbers on them

“Alright boys,” Bagman said as he turned the bag over to them, “your turn!”

This time it was Krum who stepped up first. He pulled out the grayish black Hebridean Black. It had a number five around its neck. He didn’t even blink, just sat back down and stared at the ground.

Stepping up after him was Zhou who calmly pulled out a Hungarian Horntail with a number ten on it.

Cedric put his hand into the bag, and out came the blueish-gray Swedish Short-Snout, the number two tied around its neck.

Then Ali came up and drew out a Ukrainian Ironbelly with a one on it. Soon only Harry was left as everyone else withdrew their own little model.

Knowing what was left, Harry put his hand into the silk bag and pulled out the Norwegian Ridgeback, and the number twelve on it. It stretched its wings as he looked down at it, and bared its minuscule fangs.

“Well, there you are!” Bagman said happily as he closed the bag up. “You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now, I’m going to have to leave you in a moment, because I’m commentating. Mr. Abbassid, you’re first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right? Now . . . Harry . . . could I have a quick word? Outside?”

“Er . . . yes,” Harry said with a shrug, and he got up and went out of the tent with Bagman, who walked him a short distance away, into the trees, and then turned to him with a fatherly expression on his face. “Feeling alright, Harry? Anything I can get you?”

Raising an eyebrow, Harry just looked at him.

‘”Got a plan?” Bagman asked, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Because I don’t mind sharing a few pointers, if you’d like them, you know. I mean,” Bagman continued, lowering his voice still further, “you’re the underdog here, Harry. . . . Anything I can do to help . . .”

“I am good,” Harry said politely so as not to sound rude, “I got a plan already to handle the task at hand, thanks.”

“Nothing to be shy about, Harry,” Bagman said, winking at him. “I got a lot betting on you winning this round… I mean we are all counting on you… so!”

“I am good,” Harry said, “and I think someone is calling you.”

“Good lord, I’ve got to run!” Bagman said in alarm as he did indeed spot someone waving him over, and he hurried off. Harry walked back to the tent and saw Ali emerging from it, and Harry wished him good luck as he walked past, to which the wizard smiled with confidence.

Harry went back inside to the other champions. Seconds later, they heard the roar of the crowd, which meant Ali had entered the enclosure and was now face-to-face with the living counterpart of his model.

Sitting back in his seat, Harry listened closely to try to get an idea of what was going on outside.

The crowd screamed . . . yelled . . . gasped like a single many-headed entity, as Ali did whatever he was doing to get past the Ukrainian Ironbelly. Bagman’s commentary did make everything a bit easier to understand as Harry heard:

“Oooh, very narrow miss there, very narrow.”

“He’s taking risks with his summoned creatures!”

“Pity there goes one summoned creature! Now make that two, folks!” And then, after about ten minutes, Harry heard the deafening roar that could mean only one thing: Ali had gotten past his dragon and captured the golden egg.

“Very good indeed!” Bagman was shouting. “And now the marks from the judges!” But he didn’t shout out the marks; Harry supposed the judges were holding them up and showing them to the crowd. “One down, a few more to go ladies and gentlemen!” Bagman yelled as the whistle blew again.

“Mr. Diggory, if you please!” Cedric was trembling from head to foot; Harry felt a bit bad for him as the boy barely had any time to prepare these last few days while everyone else had weeks on hand. Everyone else in the tent stayed silent, avoiding each other’s gaze.

The same process started again as Bagman made his commentary. “Oh I’m not sure that was wise!” they could hear Bagman shouting gleefully.

“Good Lord… he is on fire. NO literally. Someone get a mediwitch in here.”

“Thank Merlin, he will make it,” Bagman said after a while as Cedric’s situation was assessed. “Please folk don’t try this at home. Dragons are no joking matter.”

“Now then can Miss Fleur come up!”

Getting up on shaky feet, the witch/Veela looked ready to fall over any second now.

“It’s okay, you got this,” Harry voiced out loud in support as he gave her a nod and a soft smile.

“Thank you,” the girl replied with a weak smile as she headed out.

“Alright, here we go,” Bagman said as he made the usual commentaries until Fleur finally passed.

“Miss Miya, you’re up,” Bagman called as the Japanese girl got up and headed out with her katana in hand.

“Oh . . . nearly had it! Careful now . . . good lord, I thought she’d had it then!” Ten minutes later, Harry heard the crowd erupt into applause once more. . . . Hinako Miya must have been successful too. A pause, while Miya’s marks were being shown . . . more clapping . . . then, the whistle blew calling the next champion.

“And here comes Mr. Krum!” Bagman cried, and Krum slouched out.

“Very daring!” Bagman was yelling, and Harry heard the Hebridean Black emit a horrible, roaring shriek, while the crowd drew its collective breath. “That’s some nerve he’s showing — and — yes, he’s got the egg!” Applause shattered the wintery air like breaking glass; Krum had finished.

“May her royal highness come up!”

Getting up the princess left without a word, Harry listened closely to Bagman commentary, but for the first time he heard nothing at all for a long while.

Then finally Bagman said, “Y-yes, the score…”

“Okay, Miss Santos please come up,” the man said, which had Harry’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Champion after champion headed out to face their own respective dragon, the tent slowly emptied out before only Harry was left.

“See you on the other side,” James said as he left the tent.

Harry nodded his head and sat still in his seat, his turn would come any moment now.

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