251 Chapter 251: Anticipation and Adaptation
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31 October 1994, Beauxbatons, France
Fleur Delacour made sure that there weren't any wrinkles in her uniform for what was probably the thirtieth time, much to the amusement of her friend, Aurelie Dumont. She glared at one of her few friends, who snickered in response, before huffing and taking out a book from her bag.
It wasn't her fault that she was nervous. Her father had more or less told her to get as close as she could to Harry Potter, and the boy was coming to her school anytime soon. To be perfectly honest, Fleur was looking forward to speaking with him again. There weren't a lot of people who could keep up with her when it came to enchanting, and even fewer who could handle actually talking with her without turning into stuttering messes.
The sad thing was that it wasn't even because of her allure. She could understand if their behaviour was some kind of magical effect, but her bracelet counteracted her allure. She had tested it extensively and that was the undeniable result. The sad truth was that most boys just became either flustered or completely overconfident in front of a girl that they found very attractive, and Fleur's natural beauty put her leagues above any other girl.
The young boy's suggestion during the World Cup did help her. She realized that a couple of her classmates were analysing the runic scheme to find a way to counter it, in an effort to embarrass her during the tournament, but just transfiguring a very thin layer of steel to go over the bracelet solved this problem, much to their disappointment.
She had thought that he was just a smart boy, whose brilliance was exaggerated. It wasn't really an uncommon thing. Every country promoted its youth as the next incarnation of Merlin until they inevitably disappeared from the spotlight when they didn't meet up with the expectations. Aurelie's brother, Davet Dumont, was France's current golden boy. He was often used as a comparison by their professors during their classes and is currently a rising star in the research and development department in the French Ministry of Magic.
Aurelie had quite the inferiority complex because of her brother's success and worked herself to the bone hoping to surpass him, only to always fail. It wasn't that she was a bad witch – she was actually the best student in her year in potions and transfiguration – but she never explored the topics she was the best at, trying to become a better copy of her brother.
However, Harry did meet up with them. At least, he looked like he did from the brief conversation she had with the boy. It was odd. Fleur felt like she was talking to one of her professors, not some boy three years her junior. It made her intrigued, to say the least.
Her father's insistence on getting closer to the boy was just icing on the cake. She was looking forward to seeing Harry again, but that excitement was mixed with the anxiousness of failing her father's request.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Aurelie hitting her shoulder, "Hey, stop daydreaming about your mysterious crush already."
The Veela spluttered in indignation, "I do not have a crush on Harry. I've barely spoken to him for more than a few minutes and made a fool of myself while doing so."
"But you've also talked about him more than any other boy you've ever met aside from your ass of a father."
Fleur glared at her friend even further making her raise her hands in defeat, "Fine, I won't talk about the love of your life or whatever. What are you reading, by the way?"
The Veela suppressed to urge to throttle her friend, "It's called the 'The Tragic History of the Tri-Wizard Tournament'. It's written by a brother of the headmistress who was killed during the tournament back in 1792. It's a pretty grim book, but it's one of the few actual complete books on the subject."
Her friend groaned in consternation, "Why don't you secretly read romance novels like the rest of us?"
Fleur blushed and looked away, "Well, it gives me a good idea of what to expect in the European Tournament, since it's based on this one. If there's something I've known while listening to my father's boring meetings, it's that most politicians don't have an original bone in their bodies. So, the tournament is bound to resemble this one, if a little less bloody to keep up with the times."
"Alright, I'm interested. What did you learn?"
"Well, the trials of the old Tri-Wizard Tournament in general authorised frontal assaults against magical creatures. However, except on occasions when the Tournament was held at Durmstrang, the champions were rarely demanded to attack straight-on a Cockatrice or another dangerous XXXXX-class beast. Nine times out of ten, the goal is to recover a clue for the next trial, not killing a magical creature that seasoned Aurors would have a lot of trouble dealing with. The British once tried to force the champions to capture a cockatrice and got a lot of spectators killed. It's why the whole thing got cancelled in the first place. They definitely won't ask us to do something like this."
Aurelie looked paler as Fleur's story progressed. In the end, she stuttered, "So, we won't have to fight dragons or something?"
Fleur chortled, "Of course not. They're not stupid. Personally, I think the best way to go about it, is to look for any documentation or filed paperwork involving the import of dangerous creatures. We'll be able to be prepared then."
"Wait, you're signing up for this task? I thought you were just going to do it in the duelling tournament, or at least wait until we're sure that the ICW isn't going to get the participants killed."
Fleur grimaced, "Papa told me that it wouldn't be that dangerous and strongly suggested that I sign up. I have it on good authority that Madame Maxime is going to select the delegation depending on our own initiative. Meaning that signing up for the first task would give you a better chance of being chosen for the tournament delegation, even if we don't get selected to complete the task."
"And how is the selection done?"
The Veela was thankful that her friends did not force the issue about her father forcing her to sign up for the task. She had been leery of doing so, especially without doing some proper research, however, her father was adamant with his decision.
She took that to be a good thing, all things considered.
For all his ruthlessness, Sebastien Delacour still loved her and would not risk her life for some tournament. He must have known for sure the first task was when he asked her and dubbed the risk to be minimal. It was comforting in a weird way.
Her father had essentially given her the opportunity to be part of the Beauxbatons delegation with the possibility of participating in a task with very low risk – assuming he really did not want her dead or crippled – and would allow her to be free of any obligation for the rest of the tournament, as she would focus on making connections and learning magic from foreign schools.
Fleur decided to respond to her friend's query, "I don't know. I think it's up to every school to decide. At least they haven't used that loathsome Goblet of Fire. Who in their right mind would bind themselves magically for just a school tournament?"
She never heard Aurelie's response as the school started to shake slightly. Since Fleur was sitting near the windows, she noticed the lake outside the school rumble slightly. Seconds later, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake's floor.
In the midst of the whirlpool's turmoil, a long, dark pole started to rise slowly. Emerging from the whirlpool's centre, a giant ship appeared, its outline highlighted by the moonlight. It looked almost like a ghost ship, with a skeletal structure that hinted at it being brought back from the sea's depths. The dim lights from its portholes flickered like eerie eyes in the night. As the ship fully emerged with a loud splash, it steadied itself on the choppy water and began moving toward the shore. A small platform appeared, providing a way for people to get off the ship and onto land.
So, that was the Durmstrang infamous ship. She had read about it in one of the school's history books. It was an underwater means of transformation that was used by Ancient Vikings to attack unsuspecting ships. It was later captured by a wizard who liked it and kept it to himself for years. A descendant of this wizard, Nerida Vulchanova, would go on to create the Durmstrang Institute and donate the vessel to the school.
Fleur did not have the time to admire the ship as she was blinded by a giant flash of light. A giant bolt of lightning had come out of nowhere, both blinding and deafening them. By the time they adjusted themselves, a small group of wizards wearing traditional white togas, walked towards the platform. That must be the Olympus Academy delegation.
Of course, their entrances were followed by the earth shaking. Out of nowhere, a formation of spectral horses, conjured from the pages of Italy's legendary cavalry units, appeared with the students wearing centurion Armor. So, that had to be the Accademia Arcana Italia students.
A whirlwind followed soon after, and left behind a nice group of students, that Fleur recognized to be in Spanish traditional outfits. The Colegio de la Luz Oculta, or the College of the Hidden Light, was a rather new school compared to the likes of Beauxbatons, Hogwarts and Durmstrang, but it had a solid reputation when it came to the competency of its graduates.
Suddenly a giant rainbow appeared out of the sky and allowed a metallic chariot to make its way down. Huh, a play on the Bifrost. This must be the Nebelheim Academy delegation. It was a new school that was created less than a century ago in Germany before but grew very quickly after the Great War. It used to just teach the Muggleborns in the area, which weren't accepted by Durmstrang and was treated as nothing more than a joke. Unfortunately, after the Great War, Durmstrang's reputation as the school Grindelwald was enrolled in – even if he was expelled – was in tatters, and Nebelheim became a true rival for the older school, which spiralled into an almost infamous rivalry.
Every single entrance was a show of power and magical knowledge. There was a reason why the schools decided on Samhain being the day they would arrive. They wanted to use the energy to power enchantments that they wouldn't have been able to use normally. It made the arrivals just that more dramatic.
So far, only the Hogwarts delegation remained, and Fleur wondered what they would come up with. Her inquiry was quickly answered by a giant roar, as a metallic dragon flew through into the air and landed with a giant thud.
The dragon, a colossal beast forged from shimmering, dark metal, its scales glinting under the sunlight, exhaled plumes of smoke from its nostrils as it settled before the awestruck delegation. Fleur didn't blame them; she was gaping as well. Transfiguration of this level, coupled with the expansion and animation charms, were almost unheard of…
With a grace that belied its massive form, the dragon lowered its head, opening its maw wide to reveal a glowing interior, as if its belly were a forge alight with magical flames. From this fiery gateway, the Hogwarts students began to emerge, one by one, stepping out onto the dragon's outstretched tongue as if it were the drawbridge of a castle. Their robes, untouched by the heat, billowed around them, casting dancing shadows on the ground.
Seven schools, and seven tasks. A very powerful combination, and Fleur could not help but marvel at the scale of the tournament, and what its inevitable consequences were going to be. She had a feeling that Europe would not be the same afterwards…
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AN: So the tournament finally begins. I'm so excited about this arc. I have something special planned on that front. As usual, please let me know what you think or if you have any suggestions.
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If you want to support me check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr
I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.
Thank you guys for your support in these hard times.
