Chapter 511: This Isn’t What Was Promised

Kanna spent most of Sunday buried in the library, tirelessly flipping through books to help Kyle prepare for the upcoming Dragon challenge. Despite Kyle's repeated reassurances that she didn't need to go through the trouble, she remained undeterred.

"I'm so nervous; I have to keep myself busy," Kanna said firmly, plopping a hefty book on the table. Its cover displayed a fierce Hungarian Horntail, its wings spread wide above a line of gilt script.

She pored over the text, flipping through the pages with focused determination, searching for any weaknesses the Dragon might have.

"I don't think the school will make you fight the Dragons," Cedric offered, leaning back in his chair. "You'll probably just have to walk past them."

"That's true," he continued. "I think using a Transfiguration Spell might work. Turn something into a distraction—a dog or something—and then sneak past while the Dragon's busy."

"Or something even simpler..." Fred chimed in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Just pop open that big suitcase they brought. Whatever's in there might do the hard work for you, and you'd breeze through the challenge."

Kyle gave him a pointed look. "Yeah, and then I wouldn't have to bother showing up for the second task, right? You're not secretly getting paid off by Karkaroff to help me lose, are you?"

Fred smirked. "If the price were right, it wouldn't be the worst idea."

"Unfortunately, we're asking too much," George interjected with a grin. "Even if Karkaroff sold Durmstrang, he couldn't afford us."

"A small discount might not hurt," Kyle replied dryly. "If throwing the match got me ownership of Durmstrang, I'd consider it."

Fred laughed. "Oh, look at him—already weighing his options."

At that moment, a sudden commotion erupted nearby. A low groan escaped Fred as he glanced toward the source.

"Here we go again," he muttered irritably. "Can't Krum and his fan club go somewhere else? The guy shows up, and suddenly none of us can get anything done."

Kanna raised an eyebrow at him. "You're all the same. Don't complain about others when you're no better."

"If I had a book open in front of me, would you believe me?" Fred asked with exaggerated innocence.

"At least we're not bothering anyone," George added.

Kanna rolled her eyes. "So it's fine to bother me, then? Is that it?"

"Of course not," Fred replied with a playful grin. "But... it's close enough."

Kanna exhaled in exasperation. "This is exactly why I'm saying it's not the same thing," she muttered.

"Come on, it's just a little Dragon," Fred said. "And don't forget, Kyle's got experience."

"Don't start bragging on my behalf," Kyle warned, giving Fred a pointed look. "I only helped when Norbert hatched, and that's hardly the same thing."

"But it's still experience," George countered. "Fleur and Krum have never even been near a Dragon before—not even Norbert."

Another wave of noise echoed from across the library, drawing an annoyed glare from Kanna.

"Here we go again," she grumbled. "Let's head back."

As she stood, she thrust the book she'd been reading, Riding on Dragonback, into Kyle's hands. She then grabbed another nearby title, Basic Spells for Dealing with Hyperactive and Irritable Animals, tucking it under her arm.

As they stepped out of the library, Hermione rushed past, her pace brisk and her face etched with irritation. Clearly, she'd had her fill of the racket inside. She muttered under her breath, her tone sharp with annoyance, "Why can't he just stay on that stupid big boat and read?"

"Stupid?"

"Why would she say that?"

Fred and George exchanged looks, their expressions a mix of disbelief and amusement. They'd always thought the boat was rather impressive, even cool.

Later, back in the common room, Kyle found himself with little to do. He passed the afternoon reading with Kanna, the quiet companionship helping the hours slip by. Tomorrow loomed large—it was the day of the first project.

That evening, despite his usual composure, Kyle felt a creeping unease. Restless thoughts kept him tossing and turning long into the night, and it was only in the early hours that he finally drifted off into a fitful sleep.

...

The next day.

From the moment Kyle woke up until lunchtime in the Great Hall, he was bombarded with encouragement from every corner.

Then, Professor McGonagall appeared.

"Are you ready?" she asked, her voice steady yet tinged with urgency. "The Champions must now go to the field... to complete the first task."

Kyle stood, brushing off the lingering nerves. "Okay."

"Good luck," Kanna whispered softly as he passed.

Cedric gave his arm a reassuring pat. "Go get 'em."

"You can take 'em!" Mikel added enthusiastically, his confidence in Kyle unmistakable.

With a deep breath, Kyle followed Professor McGonagall out of the Great Hall. She appeared uncharacteristically anxious, her brisk walk and repeated reassurances revealing her inner turmoil. "Don't be nervous," she said, though Kyle suspected the advice was as much for her own benefit as it was for his.

"We've got some wizards posted nearby to intervene if things get out of hand. And most importantly… Professor Dumbledore will be watching the entire match, so it will be fine."

"Professor, you should be more worried about the other two Champions," Kyle said with a faint smile. "I hope their headmasters are as reassuring as Professor Dumbledore."

Professor McGonagall chuckled, her tense expression softening slightly. She placed a steady hand on Kyle's shoulder. "Anyway, be careful. If all else fails… there's no shame in admitting defeat. Don't forget, you're only fifteen."

"Don't worry, Professor," Kyle replied, his voice calm.

After leaving the castle, Professor McGonagall didn't lead him toward the Forbidden Forest as Kyle had initially thought. Instead, she headed for the Quidditch Pitch. From the outside, it looked unchanged, but upon entering, a thick, swirling fog cloaked the interior, obscuring nearly everything from view. The only thing visible was that the stands had grown significantly larger, looming high above.

Professor McGonagall guided Kyle to the entrance of the Changing Rooms.

"Go in," she said, her voice betraying a slight tremor. "Bagman is inside too… he'll explain what to do next."

"Thanks," Kyle said, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

Fleur was already there, perched on a low wooden stool. She looked pale, her hands clasped tightly together.

"How are you doing? Are you okay?" Kyle asked.

Fleur shook her head faintly. She glanced up at Kyle, opening her mouth as if to speak, but before she could say a word, Ludo Bagman's booming voice interrupted.

"Kyle, wonderful! Come on in," Bagman said, grinning broadly. "Relax, relax, the competition isn't as terrifying as it seems!"

Kyle gave a small nod, stepping further into the room.

"Alright, now that we're all here," Bagman continued, clapping his hands together, "I'll give you the rundown." He pulled out three identical quills, holding them up for the Champions to see. "These are special Portkeys that will take you to the arena once the audience has gathered."

"Your task is simple: do your best to overcome all the hurdles in front of you and make it to the end. Oh, and one more thing," he added, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret, "red stones. They're extremely important and directly tied to your second task. Make sure to collect as many as possible."

The room fell silent. Neither Fleur nor Kyle said anything, only nodding slightly to signal they understood.

"Well… that's about it!" Bagman said cheerfully. "Take a few minutes to calm yourselves down." He moved to distribute the quills. "Hold onto these carefully. If you miss the start time and fail to enter the arena, you'll be disqualified…"

"Wait a minute," Fleur interrupted suddenly, her voice cutting through the room's quiet tension.

Bagman turned toward her, his brow furrowing slightly. "What is it?"

"Don't we need to draw lots?" Fleur asked, her tone a mix of confusion and unease.

"Draw lots?" Bagman repeated, puzzled. "There's no need for that. All the events are identical; the only difference is each Champion's starting position… But if you'd prefer to draw lots…"

He quickly retrieved a cloth bag, placed the three identical quills inside, and handed it to each of them in turn.

Fleur drew first, her fingers hesitating slightly before pulling out one of the quills. She stared at it, her expression uncertain as she glanced between it and the others.

What's going on? she wondered. There's no Dragon, no bypass task… This isn't what Madame Maxime described to me.