Rita Skeeter had earned their trust and was now permitted full access to the tournament, meaning she could freely come and go from Hogwarts during all three tasks and report with firsthand information.
As for the gossip and rumors she eavesdropped on, she only needed to prove they were spoken by others and not fabricated in her writing.
With a brand-new body, she naturally intended to offer herself first to her master, Regulus Black.
Unfortunately, Rita Skeeter was familiar with Regulus Black's physical condition. If she could become pregnant on the first attempt, it would solidify her status greatly. What a shame—such a rare virgin body.
As she watched the champions reach into the sack to draw their dragon orbs, Rita Skeeter rested both hands on her abdomen, feeling a bit sentimental.
Each dragon orb, upon being drawn from the sack, would instantly vaporize on the surface and transform into a miniature dragon.
In truth, Regulus Black had already provided the champions with the best possible strategy: the tiny dragons in their hands.
If a champion could control this miniature dragon to distract the larger dragon guarding the egg, then the mother dragon would naturally prioritize the safety of the already-hatched "child" over the unhatched egg. The latter could wait.
Beauxbatons Academy of Magic — Fleur Delacour — Australian OpaleyeBeauxbatons Academy of Magic — Gabrielle Delacour — Chinese FireballDurmstrang Institute — Viktor Krum — Ukrainian IronbellyDurmstrang Institute — Stanislav Ivaneski — Swedish Short-SnoutHogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry — Cedric Diggory — Welsh GreenHogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry — Harry Potter — Hebridean Black
Every time a champion pulled a dragon orb, Barty Crouch would immediately shout out the dragon's breed, as if it were his own tournament. He was even more anxious than the champions themselves.
Just like in the original story, Harry Potter drew the most powerful dragon—the Hebridean Black. Compared to Cedric's Welsh Green, Harry seriously considered asking Cedric if they could switch.
"Champions, please come one at a time into the side room. The Daily Prophet would like to conduct exclusive interviews. Please look your best—photos will be taken."
Rita Skeeter, now much younger, no longer carried the same sly and calculating aura as before.
However, she would still ask three sharp-edged questions:"Who do you think will come in first?""Who do you think will come in last?""Where do you think you will place?"
These questions would be broadcast live. The champions inside the lounge were unaware of this, but the audience outside would be able to see their genuine reactions.
This twist was quite engaging. All three headmasters approved the idea and promised to keep the interview format confidential.
Because this was becoming an industry. If it went smoothly, the tournament could be held annually and become an international event on par with Quidditch. Ticket sales and related services would generate significant revenue.
This was exactly why Barty Crouch was so excited—the Ministry of Magic was paying close attention to this tournament.
Rita Skeeter said, "Ladies first, of course. Let's proceed in the order you drew your dragon orbs!"
In the small room, Fleur had just entered. Rita Skeeter had her cradle the miniature dragon in her hands and guided her through various poses, while The Daily Prophet's photographer frantically snapped photos.
Her image immediately caused a sensation among the students watching outside, where a magical screen had been set up.
"Fleur! Fleur! We love you!"
The girls from Beauxbatons shouted their support, not caring whether Fleur could hear them or not.
"Fleur! You're my goddess! I love you!"
A boy from Durmstrang was shouting at the top of his lungs.
"Draco! Do you think Fleur is pretty?"
Pansy Parkinson looked at Fleur Delacour. Fleur appeared elegant in the photographs taken of her—something Pansy couldn't quite measure up to. And Regulus Black would never pass up the Delacour sisters. Pansy couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy.
"That little dragon in her hands is so cute. How did the Ministry of Magic make it? Why have I never seen anything like it on the market?"
In Draco's mind, women were worthless—dragons were far better. His entire attention was captured by the tiny dragon in Fleur's hands.
"Because that's a prop specially made by the Ministry for the tournament. So don't even dream about it. Not even money can buy one."
Pansy Parkinson knew exactly what Draco liked, having known him since childhood, but she still couldn't help rolling her eyes in disdain.
Fleur Delacour: "I believe my sister might come in first, because the Chinese Fireball is the smartest kind of fire dragon. As long as you can reach an understanding with it, the task can be completed. As for coming in last—that might be me, since the Australian Opaleye is naturally perceptive. Still, I'll do my best not to come in last."
Gabrielle Delacour: "I think my sister might be first place because she's the most capable. That blind fire dragon will be easy for her to handle. Last place? I'm not sure—maybe that Ukrainian Ironbelly if Krum gets eaten. As for me, I haven't thought that far. Can I just forfeit?"
"Gabrielle! Gabrielle! Fleur! Fleur!"
The students watching from outside cheered. Two such beautiful sisters competing in the tournament was a feast for the eyes.
In no time, the Delacour sisters had gained a legion of fans.
Viktor Krum: "I will definitely take first place. I'm the star of Durmstrang Institute—it's only natural. As for the last-place contestant… I hate to say this, but among the three extra champions, two are underclassmen. I don't think they stand a chance against fire dragons. One of them will surely come in last. My rank? I already said, I came here for first place."
Stanislav Ivaneski: "The only person who can be first is Krum. In my eyes, he's always been the strongest. As for last place—it won't be me. I may not be as good as Krum, but I consider myself better than the other contestants. My ideal ranking is second. If I come in third, I'll find that hard to accept. I never even considered the possibility of placing below third."
"Seems like Durmstrang really values the pursuit of victory."
Snape turned to look behind him. The headmaster of Durmstrang, hearing this, looked immensely pleased. After all, it was the result of his carefully honed instruction: to give everything for victory—that was the spirit of Durmstrang.
Cedric Diggory: "I'll give it my all to fight for first place. In a tournament, success comes down to effort and luck. As for last place—it might be that young girl from Beauxbatons. As for my own rank, I'm aiming for first and won't consider anything else until results are in."
Harry Potter: "First place? It could be Cedric Diggory, or maybe Viktor Krum. Fleur Delacour isn't out of the question either. As for last place, it's probably going to be one of us three remaining. My own rank? I'm not sure. My opponent is a fire dragon and... I'm sorry, I can't say more."
"Our Hogwarts students are neither exceptional nor mediocre. Just… average."
Regulus Black, standing beside Dumbledore, offered his thoughts on the live broadcast showing on the big screen. His words sounded fine on the surface—but really, wasn't that just saying they were ordinary?
Dumbledore's expression stiffened slightly. Couldn't Regulus stop being so blunt?
The reason a Hufflepuff was chosen as champion this time was that Slytherin disdained such competitions, Ravenclaw preferred to observe from a distance, and Gryffindor—well, since Harry Potter carried a fragment of Voldemort's soul, it could only be him.
Was there any choice stronger than the Dark Lord himself? Of course there was.
Little Barty Crouch, who tampered with the selection, wasn't privy to this hidden truth—because whether he rigged it or not, the result would have been the same.
All it took was to quietly toss Harry Potter's name into the Goblet of Fire.
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