On the morning of May 16th, nearly everyone woke up early and, after breakfast, headed to the maze area.
No matter how confident they had sounded earlier, the thought of competing against older and more skilled young wizards made Harry, with his perpetually messy hair, feel like his stomach was full to bursting.
He forced himself to eat a little and drank some pumpkin juice. He didn't dare eat too much, afraid that he might throw up later.
"Let's go."
Hermione, who was just as tense, came over and patted Harry on the shoulder.
"Everyone's ready."
"Y-yeah, okay."
Harry stood up hurriedly, and instinctively glanced at Ron. He saw Ron sitting with Percy, who appeared to be sharing some advice. Ron's mouth was slightly open, making him look a little dazed.
This time, they were on different teams—not friends, but rivals.
Harry walked toward the umbrella room group.
Michael gave him a tight-lipped smile and silently held out his hand for a fist bump.
"Good luck! You guys can do this!"
Padma pumped her fist encouragingly.
She had opted to be a spectator, as she did not like physical confrontations and feared injuries.
When they reached the long table in the center, Neville joined the team. His legs were trembling so badly from nerves that he could barely stand.
The rules allowed each team to have up to six members.
Harry, Hermione, Michael, Theo, and Ryan were definite participants.
Padma and Wade had withdrawn, the Weasley twins had formed a team with older students, and in the end, the reluctant Neville had to step in.
"I… I can't do it…"
When signing up, Neville's voice had been trembling. "When I get nervous, I forget all my spells…"
"Then take a sword with you!"
Wade gripped Neville's shoulder firmly and said with certainty, "Trust me, you can do it!"
And then, Wade actually made a sword for Neville. The blade gleamed coldly, looking razor-sharp.
Wade had hesitated for a moment before finally handing it over to Neville.
"I hope you know that this thing must not be used on people—and, of course, be careful not to accidentally use it on yourself," Wade cautioned.
Neville took the sword with trembling hands and asked, "D-Do I have to use it?"
"Of course not—you decide for yourself," Wade said.
Michael then asked, "Are we even allowed to bring something like this into the competition?"
Wade replied, "The rules don't say it's prohibited, so that means it's allowed."
At this moment, in the Great Hall, Neville had the sword—which was as long as his leg—strapped to his side. He was dressed in practical, movement-friendly clothing, and if you didn't look at his face, he actually looked rather dashing.
Unfortunately, Neville's face was deathly pale, and he seemed on the verge of fainting.
"Don't forget to breathe, Neville," Theo reminded him. "Take a few deep breaths—I think it'll help."
Michael, feeling uneasy, still managed to offer encouragement:
"Come on! We don't have to win the championship; we just need to walk in there standing tall."
"...Michael, are you always this pessimistic?" Ryan couldn't help but quip.
The banter between the group eased some of Neville's tension. Then Theo turned to Harry and asked, "Harry, didn't Wade say you had some sort of advantage? What is it?"
Harry shook his head. "He said I'd know once we entered… but I think it's…"
He bit his tongue and hissed softly, "Ssss…"
Neville suddenly understood. "Oh, that…"
"Don't say it!" Padma interrupted immediately. Neville quickly clapped his hands over his mouth.
However, Theo shook his head. "I thought of that too… but I don't think that's it."
Michael chimed in, "Don't forget, there'll be other teams on the field, plus officials from the Ministry of Magic. If they notice…"
He trailed off meaningfully, lowering his voice before swallowing the rest of his sentence.
Everyone understood the implications—even though the exact outcome was uncertain, it was sure to be bad.
Then Michael shifted the tone of the conversation:
"But if it's an emergency, you can use it secretly. We'll cover for you so no one notices."
Harry gave a small nod, though his heart still felt heavy.
They walked out of the castle.
The weather that day was pleasant—not too hot, not too cold. A thin layer of clouds softened the increasingly intense sunlight.
The teams had begun gathering at the different entrances to the maze. Filch and Hagrid were checking the lists one by one, while Professor McGonagall stood nearby with a stern expression, ensuring no one snuck in without authorization.
"The maze today is different from usual," Professor McGonagall announced loudly. "It includes many dangerous elements. If anyone wants to withdraw, now is the time!"
Harry thought to himself, "Everyone's prepared to be here—who would back out at this point?"
But before the thought had even finished echoing in his mind, he saw a team of first-year girls raise their hands and giggle as they left the lineup.
Another Hufflepuff team was pleading with Filch:
"…One of our members was so nervous yesterday that he had a drink, and now he's too sick to get up. But we can still compete with just five of us, can't we?"
"No!" Filch said firmly. "Even if one person quits, the entire team is disqualified. Those are the rules!"
With no mercy, he crossed their names off the list.
One by one, others began leaving the competitors' lineup. Neville grew even more nervous and anxious, almost stepping out of the lineup himself.
At that moment, a group approached, led by none other than Harry's least favorite person—Malfoy.
Malfoy glanced at their team and sneered.
"I heard you're competing too, Longbottom. Is that true? What's your plan? Some clumsy little act to make your opponents laugh so hard they let you off the hook?"
Neville's face was still pale, but the trembling in his body suddenly stopped.
"I can do it! Wade said I can!"
"Oh?" Malfoy said coldly. "Then I'd say his judgment is slipping lately. Maybe he should borrow Potter's glasses."
"Get lost, Malfoy!" Harry stepped forward, clenching his fists in anger. "Or do you want to settle this right here, right now?"
"What's going on here?"
Professor McGonagall noticed the commotion and strode over immediately, her tone was very sharp.
"Malfoy, I believe you're not supposed to be at this entrance! Return to your team immediately!"
"Yes, Professor," Malfoy muttered reluctantly. He shot a fierce glare at the two Gryffindors before heading toward another entrance.
Professor McGonagall glanced at their team, a mixed group of students from three different houses. Her tone softened slightly but remained serious.
"Please, at least for today, behave yourselves! Many representatives from the Ministry of Magic are observing your performance."
Following her gaze, Harry and the others saw Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, and Wade who was also standing there.
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