A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Chapter 396: The Keeper of Security

At noon, the students of Hogwarts gathered in Clock Square, led by Professor Flitwick, and headed towards the direction of the competition grounds.

"Madam Maxime has taken the champions to the temporary tents," Professor Flitwick exclaimed with excitement.

Felix walked alongside him, moving at a steady pace in the lead. Behind him, students chattered and discussed with excitement. A wizard shouted, "I heard the roar of a dragon last night—"

Turning back, he saw a sea of people flowing like a twisting black river. They exited the castle, crossed the long bridge, and followed a sloping path downhill.

As they passed by the edge of the Black Lake, Durmstrang students descended from boats, cloaked figures joining the procession. Near Hagrid's hut, the massive doors of a carriage swung open, revealing seven or eight Beauxbatons students in blue silk uniforms, along with students from the Institute for Magical Education who emerged from their temporary residence at the Quidditch pitch. They stood beside the Forbidden Forest, waiting for their fellow wizards and witches from the Wugadug Tribe.

The uniforms of these four schools added vibrancy to the otherwise monotonous sea of black, like colorful fish in water.

The group walked along the edge of the Forbidden Forest for about twenty minutes. The castle and the lake disappeared from sight, and they had ventured beyond the school's grounds. The thick growth of trees and bushes on the right grew sparser, revealing the lush and impenetrable heart of the Forbidden Forest.

Felix heard the sound of hooves. "Is it thestrals?" Felix squinted his eyes at the dense forest, and a peculiar-looking horse head poked out — a Thestral. It disappeared as soon as he looked.

After passing another protruding grove, the landscape suddenly opened up. Before them lay an amphitheater constructed for the occasion, with tall wooden stakes supporting rudimentary walkways that undulated with the terrain.

On the western side stood a massive silver tent, and Felix caught a glimpse of Ludo Bagman hurrying inside.

"Everyone, orderly ascend to the stands, no pushing," Professor Flitwick stood on a wooden step, instructing the gathering crowd. Felix mumbled an apology and turned toward the tent.

As he reached the entrance, he sensed a solemn and subdued atmosphere. Ludo Bagman's cheerful voice seemed utterly out of place.

"Alright then, it's quite simple really. You need to pick out the models inside. Yes, you should know, dragons come in different breeds. You must select on behalf of your teams—ladies first."

Upon entering, Felix saw Bagman standing among the champions with an amiable smile, dressed in an old Falmouth Falcons robe he had worn in his youth. He held a purple silk bag in his hand.

Around him were the captains of the six teams — Viktor Krum, Fleur, Krum, Cedric, Nona Levbert, and Harry. Among these six, Harry was the shortest, especially when standing next to the tall Wugadug witch; he looked like a lost child. Yet today, he and his companions would face the threat of dragons together.

Other team members were scattered within the tent, fixated on their captains. Breathing seemed to vanish within the tent.

Fleur trembled as she pulled a small, intricately detailed model of a Welsh Green dragon from the bag, her complexion turning somewhat pale.

However, Felix's expression darkened. That was the "Fire Dragon Magic Lamp" from the "Future World"! Was the Ministry of Magic cutting corners like this?

"Ah, Mademoiselle, you're quite lucky," Bagman said. At that moment, he heard a low voice by his ear, "Can't you make your own set of models..."

Turning his head, he saw Felix looking displeased. Bagman stammered, "Felix... well, it was suggested by a young colleague at the Ministry. It's a way to use charming magic lamps to counter the stress from real dragons, to help the champions calm their nerves..."

He patted the green dragon model in Fleur's hand. It immediately sprang to life, jaws and claws moving, startling her into dropping it onto Bagman's face. Awkwardly, he picked it up from the ground and handed it back to Fleur, saying, "Oh, it seems it's not quite right."

From the expressions of everyone in the tent, this performance was an absolute disaster.

Fleur returned to her teammates with a cold expression, quickly arranging the final tactics in French. Felix glanced hurriedly, but the constant swaying of the two champions' bodies distracted him, rendering his mind unresponsive to any words.

Viktor Krum was next in line. Nona Levbert, landing gracefully, drew a dragon with pearl-like curved scales – the famous Australian Opaleye, renowned as the "Most Beautiful Dragon." But she didn't spare a second glance, eagerly discussing the detailed characteristics of the dragon with her teammates.

"Not particularly aggressive, favors sheep as food... Its flames are like molten lava, quite adhesive..."

Victor Krum acquired the Hebridean Black from the Hebrides Islands. This type of dragon could reach up to thirty feet in length when fully grown, with the females being even larger.

Next, Charlie Weasley chose a bright red Chinese Fireball. He lowered his hand, leaning against a tent pole, staring at a hole in the canopy above. His teammates approached, and in hushed tones, one said, "Viktor..."

With a composed expression, he answered, "Stick to the original plan." His two teammates nodded in silence.

Cedric Diggory drew a blue Swedish Short-Snout. His face lit up, and he approached Roger Davies and Collins, showing them his dragon. The previously solemn faces of the three displayed varying degrees of relief. This was one of their tactically suitable choices.

Lastly, it was Harry's turn. His expression wasn't good. He knew what was left — a black Hungarian Horntail, the largest and fiercest of them all.

Two nights ago, he, Ron, and Hermione had sneaked a peek, all cloaked in invisibility. He was sure others had done the same. Madame Maxime's arrival with the Beauxbatons champions wasn't a secret, at least not during the gathering with Hagrid — or he'd rather term it as the ill-timed encounter — where the Madame had brazenly observed alongside.

Oh, and they had run into the secretive Karkaroff as well.

In the expectant gaze of Bagman, Harry mechanically drew the last dragon model. Lowering his head, he stared at the adorable Hungarian Horntail in his hand. The little dragon spread its wings, revealing tiny fangs, appearing to smile. It was surprisingly similar to Bagman in some respects.

But Harry wasn't fooled. He had seen the real Hungarian Horntail — the tail, which should have been bristling with spikes, was now extremely smooth. The spike locations had turned into bronze-colored spots. He subconsciously glanced at Professor Harp, feeling that the design from "Future World" was a bit over the top.

Why hadn't he noticed this before? He wondered.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione gathered together. He quickly said, "We need to change our strategy."

...

"Alright, everyone has drawn their dragons!" Bagman said. "You've all got the dragons you'll be facing. I need to step away for a moment to provide commentary for the audience. When the match starts, others will escort you into the arena. When you hear the whistle, that's your signal to go out. Understood?"

Others fell somewhat silent. Cedric raised a question, "What's our task? And the order of the match?"

"Task?" Bagman hesitated. "Oh, uh... did I not mention it?" He looked slightly confused, casting a glance at the others. Everyone in the tent turned their predatory gazes toward him. He pulled a handkerchief to wipe the sweat off his forehead, "Alright, my mistake. I should have clarified from the beginning... You see, the objective is to get past the dragon and retrieve an egg, then make a successful escape. As for the order... there's no order. All of you will compete together."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged glances. Looking up, they noticed Cedric looking meaningfully at his two teammates. It gave them a bit of assurance, as they had practiced this strategy back in Classroom Seven.

Harry looked to Professor Harp, who was gazing at the carved patterns in the tent, showing no other reaction.

"Why compete together? What if other teams interfere?" a Beauxbatons girl asked in a shrill voice.

"This is also part of the test," Bagman cautiously answered. "You need to learn to have eyes on all sides and ears open to every direction. There will be gaps between each dragon's placement. In theory... you'll have enough space. You'll understand when the time comes. Well... Harry... can I have a word with you alone? Outside?"

Harry stared at him puzzled. They left for a while, and Harry returned with a gloomy expression.

"What happened?" Ron asked.

"I don't know. He seemed like he wanted to help me," Harry said, quite perplexed. "But I declined. We've prepared so much..."

At this point, only Felix Harp remained in the tent. The others gazed at him curiously, expecting him to leave with Bagman.

"Allow me to introduce myself. Felix Harp, the Arithmancy professor at Hogwarts," he said calmly. "You need not remember my name, just my duty — I'm one of the Keepers of Safety, and indeed, the last line of defense."

"During your match, dragon trainers from the Reserve and Ministry personnel will be scattered around. They're ready to provide protection at all times. As for me, throughout the entire match, I'll be hovering above your heads and will intervene only in the most dangerous moments — when you can't call for help in time."

"So, best of luck."

Felix stepped out of the tent, the buzz of voices surrounding him.

>

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