"Accio dragon egg!"
Clenching his teeth against the searing pain in his hand, Krum pulled out his wand and cast the simplest Summoning Charm: Accio.
The Accio charm can only be used on objects the caster has previously touched. It cannot be used on living creatures, nor on items protected by anti-theft spells, nor on objects too far away or whose location is unclear.
However, the dragon egg—gleaming in the dragonfire—had been touched by Krum. It wasn't alive, wasn't protected by any spell, didn't belong to anyone, and sat right in front of him, twenty meters away, glowing like a beacon.
So, there was no reason he couldn't summon it. It was just that Durmstrang Institute of Magic placed more emphasis on teaching the Dark Arts and far less on practical everyday spells compared to Hogwarts.
The dragon egg flew over and landed in Krum's hands. His palms were scorched once again, but he let out a triumphant roar.
"Ah… ah… ahhh!"
After venting all his frustration, he finally dropped the scalding dragon egg to the ground. It landed heavily, striking a rock—but astonishingly, the egg was completely unharmed. Instead, the rock cracked and lost a corner.
The rest was naturally handled by the Aurors: soothing and healing the Ukrainian Ironbelly's eyes, extinguishing the flames across the field, then stunning the dragon, wrapping it up, and returning it to its birthplace.
As for Krum's injuries, a single bottle of healing potion from Hogwarts' medical staff was enough to fully restore his hands—oh, and he had to drink one too. That part made Krum cry again.
If it weren't for the prior warnings from some Hogwarts students about the personalities of the school's three "queens," Krum would've demanded to return to his school's ship right away.
"Everyone, please pay attention. Due to time constraints, the next three matches will be held tomorrow. Warriors, please prepare accordingly, and good luck to all of you."
Barty Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, glanced up at the darkening sky. If the event continued, not only would the audience be unable to see—neither could the champions.
Tonight marked a celebration for Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Hailing from France, both girls had successfully retrieved their dragon eggs in their own ways. Everyone applauded Fleur Delacour for her quick wit, and everyone also applauded Gabrielle's bold declaration of love—though no one took the little girl's affection too seriously.
The two dragon eggs were placed side by side for public display, surrounded by tables laden with delicious food.
Madame Maxime, the headmistress, had arranged through magic for their home country to prepare traditional French dishes for the occasion.
Durmstrang should have been celebrating too—after all, Krum had obtained a dragon egg. But he was now resting in the infirmary, while the other student, Stanislav Ivaneski, had never been highly regarded by Headmaster Igor Karkaroff in the first place.
So even though they attended Beauxbatons' celebration, the Durmstrang students sat stiffly off to the side, drinking solemnly—and before long, they all quietly left the party.
"I'm afraid we'll have to cut into your rest time tonight. I rejected the strategy Krum proposed earlier, which made the challenge much harder. Luckily, he managed to complete it. Now, Stanislav Ivaneski, what are your plans for dealing with the Swedish Short-Snout? That Hogwarts assistant, Black, who's been entertaining you these past few days—did he give you any advice on how to handle it?"
At that moment, Igor Karkaroff was particularly concerned about Regulus Black. Those two French girls had easily obtained their dragon eggs, while his star student had barely managed to succeed after a humiliating struggle. The contrast was so stark that ignoring it would make victory impossible.
"To put the Swedish Short-Snout to sleep," said Stanislav, "you need to make it a hot spring."
Stanislav Ivaneski, whose build was even larger than his headmaster's, timidly recounted what Regulus Black had done the first time he saw a fire dragon in the Forbidden Forest.
"Oh, you idiot! How could the Goblet of Fire have chosen you? Right, you were set up! Maybe the person who set you up picked you exactly because of how stupid you looked!"
Igor Karkaroff covered his face with both hands, forcing himself to calm down. Because of his earlier mistake, Krum had already been injured and had nearly lost the match. He couldn't afford to make the same mistake again.
"Setting aside whether you can even create a hot spring to put the dragon to sleep—suppose the dragon does fall asleep in the spring—do you think the dragon egg will just float to the surface on its own?"
Igor Karkaroff held back his urge to roar, speaking at breakneck speed as he scolded his student.
Exactly! If the fire dragon fell asleep and ended up lying on top of the egg, wouldn't that make things even worse?
For a moment, all the students of Durmstrang Institute of Magic fell silent.
"Use your brains! I want every single one of you to say your idea, no matter how ridiculous it sounds. We'll evaluate them one by one. Starting from the student on the far left—everyone must speak."
Igor Karkaroff nearly broke into cursing as he pointed to the student on the far left and gave his command.
The student who had been singled out looked as if he were on the verge of tears, but had no choice but to bite the bullet and stand up.
"Maybe we can copy what Fleur did—use dust to create black smoke and block the dragon's vision."
"That probably won't work. The Swedish Short-Snout is also called the Sneeze Dragon. Its nose is extremely sensitive, and using dust will only provoke it to breathe even more fire. Don't assume dragon breath isn't dragon flame—it's a high-temperature, toxic gas."
Igor Karkaroff calmed down and responded to the student's suggestion, then pointed to the next student.
It was clear the students of Durmstrang wouldn't be getting a good night's sleep. But they still managed to come up with many ideas that could serve as contingency plans for their champion.
Meanwhile, Fleur led Gabrielle over to Cedric and Harry.
"Gentlemen, may we have this dance? As victors, perhaps we could bring you some good luck."
The girls had come all the way over to ask, and although the words weren't exactly flattering, they made sense. Maybe a little luck really would come their way. After all, the girls had already won and secured their dragon eggs, and tomorrow's outcome for them was still unknown.
So, the four champions began to dance in the ballroom, gradually drawing in the other students. The festive atmosphere reached its peak.
Rita Skeeter, in the Room of Requirement, also reached a climax. The bed was covered with props Regulus Black had bought from a Muggle adult shop. Each item gave Rita a different sensation, waves of pleasure crashing over her like relentless tides against the shore.
Had she been an ordinary Muggle, she would have collapsed completely—perhaps even suffered severe physical and psychological trauma.
But she wasn't a Muggle. As a witch, a single potion could fully restore any physical damage. The same applied to mental strain—there wasn't a problem that magic potions couldn't fix. And if one potion wasn't enough, then take another.
From the soul to the body, from the mind to the will—there was no damage that couldn't be healed by potion.
Of course, this only applied to damage. If something was missing, then nothing could be done.
Look at Mad-Eye Moody, the legendary Auror. His left leg and left eye were lost, which is why they couldn't be healed. Only magical prosthetics like his enchanted eye and peg leg could replace their function.
That said, Regulus Black and Rita Skeeter never went so far as to cause permanent injury.
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