Chapter 252: Chapter 252: Unforeseen Challenges
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I would like to thank my beta, Akisu, for his help in this chapter.
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31 October 1994, Beauxbatons, France
The ride in the Hogwarts Express turned dragon was a lot more comfortable than Harry would have expected considering that they were riding inside a metallic dragon. The professors had truly outdone themselves with their entrance and he couldn't help but imagine the looks on everyone's faces as they arrived in Beauxbattons.
Truly, the entire transformation was amazing, and he could see both McGonagall and Flitwick's work in making this masterpiece. That's not to mention how efficient it was, storing as much magic as it could using jewel craft to store any remnant magic to be used later. McGonagall really had thought of everything.
In a way, she had to. In the Triwizard tournament, school entrances were often displays of power and intimidation. Hogwarts' new headmistress did not have Albus Dumbledore's reputation – to be fair, no one really did – and she wanted to show the world that she was more than capable of succeeding the man.
As for the flight itself, it was surprisingly normal, which oddly enough, was sort of weird. The stabilization charms made it feel like they were riding a normal train, while he was sure that they were flying at supersonic speeds at the very least.
And of course, the passengers left much to be desired. There were five of Harry's yearmates in the delegation, and he was on good terms with only half. Unfortunately, Susan and Daphne kept glaring at each other, Neville kept glaring at Harry, and Hermione just ignored everyone. Yeah, it was definitely an awkward ride.
Harry wasn't sure where he stood in regard to Neville and Hermione. The former Longbottom obviously did not forgive Harry gaslighting him, and the last Potter could accept that. Sure, it was short-sighted to hate someone of Harry's magical capabilities, but no one ever accused Neville Longbottom of thinking into the future.
The truth of the matter was that he had more than repaid Neville back for any harm he had caused. He had killed more of Voldemort's Horcruxes, Neville's prophesized enemy, than any other person. He had also likely saved his life, maybe even his soul when he realized how the Horcrux was affecting him and told his grandmother the truth. And if it wasn't like Harry had any other options after the chamber. Dumbledore wasn't going to allow rumours of Basilisks to spread around and lying was the best way Harry could both protect himself and even protect Neville.
His grandmother must have noticed this considering that the woman did not try to retaliate in any way. She would have done so discreetly since bringing things to the Wizengamot would have forced Harry to reveal Neville's disownment as a Longbottom, which would destroy the boy's reputation further. That's not even mentioning the fact that Harry knew what was in Neville's scar, which would easily result in countless attempts on the boy's life to prevent Voldemort from rising once more. Harry wouldn't do it, of course. He didn't have it in him to kill a boy for no reason, but the fact remained that the option was still there.
As for Hermione, she remained just as silent and as cold as ever. Ever since her return, she had done nothing but hang out with Neville and spend some time in the library. She was different, mechanic for the lack of a better word, and most of all, bored out of her mind according to his Arcane Hearing. Harry didn't know why she and Neville even volunteered to join the delegation. Well, Neville, he could understand wanting to prove himself since he lost the Longbottom name, but Hermione joining him wasn't something he had foreseen.
Was she assigned by the Unspeakables to protect Neville? For all the trouble the boy kept finding, he was still the subject of a prophecy, and fate was a very powerful weapon. Or it could be just Hermione supporting her friend? Maybe Hermione had other plans of her own?
He didn't know.
It didn't truly matter anyway.
Choosing not to think about it, Harry palmed his hand and opened a chocolate frog. The animated construct leapt out of the packaging, only to be frozen in the air. It looked like a slowing charm of some sort, but it wasn't something that simple. The slowing charm was just a way to suck out momentum from movement, making it slow down, but what Harry was using wasn't something so standard.
It was a spell he had been fine-tuning for months, to make an object experience time differently. If he cancelled the spell the frog would continue normally as if nothing happened. The system was closed, but only the passage of time was affected.
It was the extent of what he could do with time manipulation alone. The Gardens of Avalon had given him a lot of information about the concept of time, but Harry had spent years in his prison integrating it into his portal spell, nothing more. This was a completely uncharted territory in magic. He couldn't find anything about genuine time manipulation. Even then, from what he understood regarding the concept, travelling back in time was impossible. You could affect the flow of time, try to retrieve information from the past, maybe even stretch and constrict it, but creating a portal to the past or the future was impossible. Well, technically, you could stretch time to make it so a thousand years passed in just a second, there wouldn't be an actual gap in the fabric of time.
All in all, the entire concept was very complex, and Harry barely understood the high-level theory, let alone how to craft spells using those concepts. The time-slowing spell already took a lot of time to use, and even then, he was making improvements every day.
Harry's thoughts were interrupted by a small cough. He turned and saw a woman with an obscured face looking at him, "Interesting spell…"
Harry simply shrugged, "Found it in my family crest. Not really that useful compared to a slowing charm, but interesting nonetheless," he gave the woman a once over, "What's an Unspeakable doing here anyway."
Harry tried to use his Arcane Hearing to analyse the woman and almost flinched when he did. It was complete chaos. It was hard to put it into words, but it was like someone was playing a hundred completely different songs at once, songs which changed every couple of seconds. Was that some kind of protection spell against magic analysing tools?
Still, there was some kind of sense of amusement in it, somehow, and the woman responded, "Well, Britain has one of the rarest collections of magical crests in the world. Sure, there are a few in Italy and Greece, but in terms of pure numbers, Britain has the most of them. I'm here to make sure that you ducklings don't get yourselves killed or kidnapped by anyone in the duration of the tournament."
Harry nodded to himself. She was essentially a bodyguard, to prevent Britain's assets from being taken from the country. The woman then continued, "And who knows, if you brats impress me, I might teach you a thing or two."
The last Potter heard a shift in Hermione's song for a brief second. It was pure panic and anxiousness. Huh, whoever this was had made even Hermione uncomfortable…
He was bored… He could shoulder the chaos a bit and slowly dismantle the protections on the woman's magical sensing and see her true nature.
Before he could do so, he felt the metallic dragon, land with a thud. They had arrived in Beauxbatons.
He decided to investigate the Unspeakable further, prioritizing taking a closer look at the French institution, and he couldn't help but be impressed by what he saw.
As he stepped out of the carriage with the rest of the delegation, the moonlight bathed the school in a luminescent silver, casting long, dramatic shadows across the manicured lawns and highlighting the intricate detailing of rococo reliefs that adorned the facades. The large, ornate windows of the main building twinkled with the warm, golden light of chandeliers, suggesting a bustling life within its storied walls. Sculpted fountains, their waters shimmering under the night sky, added a melodious backdrop to the scene with their gentle splashing.
Above, the towers of Beauxbatons reached towards the heavens, their peaks almost touching the stars. He looked around and saw other groups of students staring at their method of transportation. McGonagall had certainly achieved her goal of making a statement with their entrance.
He noticed the Durmstrang delegation near their enchanted ship. Then there was a group wearing togas, so they were probably the Olympus delegation. The Greek school was one of the most exclusive schools in Europe. They did not take in any applications from foreign countries and their tuition fees were rumoured to be extremely high. Most people either went to other smaller academies in Greece or just to another school in Europe altogether. However, their graduates tended to be very skilled and excelled in elemental magics.
Of course, there were also the Romans. They were wearing centurion armour and looked more like soldiers than students. It seemed like Blaise's description was very accurate. There was the Spanish delegation, which Harry was actually excited to meet. There were rumours that their school held some very old Aztec spells and a grand repository of magics practised in south America.
He noticed the students from a rather new school called Nebelheim, that he hadn't really interested in. It wasn't that he looked down the schools, it was just that Harry liked deciphering old magics, and the sad truth was that Nebelheim did not have any. However, from their imitation of the Bifrost, there was more to the school than he expected.
They followed McGonagall, wearing their normal Hogwarts uniforms, only without their houses being displayed. After all, they did not represent their houses but their entire school.
When they entered the Beauxbatons hall, he was immediately struck by the splendour that enveloped the space. The hall was vast, with ceilings so high they seemed to vanish into the shadows above. Elegant chandeliers, each a masterwork of crystal and silver, hung from the ceiling, casting a cascade of twinkling lights that danced across the walls. The walls themselves were adorned with azure blue silk tapestries, embroidered with silver threads that depicted scenes of magical heritage and the historic triumphs of Beauxbatons.
Long, polished dining tables of dark oak stretched across the length of the hall, reflecting the soft glow of candlelight from the taper candles set in ornate silver holders. Each table was set with fine porcelain and gleaming cutlery, with the symbol of their schools glowing above them.
Harry felt someone's gaze on his back and smiled as he noticed Fleur looking at him. The Veela smiled back, looking somewhat uncertain. He was soon distracted by Daphne hissing at him to look forward. He grumbled, sat at the Hogwarts table, and watched as the other delegation did the same.
An old man near the staff table stood up, walked towards a podium, and spoke up with a heavy French accent, "Good afternoon. My name is Pierre Bonaccord, and I am a delegate of the ICW. I wish to formally announce the beginning of the European School tournament."
Applause and cheers followed his announcement, and the man raised a hand, quieting them, "You will probably see me around during this tournament, not just here in Beauxbatons. My responsibility here is to make sure that everything goes smoothly and that no one will be injured, competitor or spectator. The ICW has put in place a large number of security measures, and hopefully, there will be no injuries. Of course, that said, there will always be a certain degree of risk to the competitors. This means that I must implore you to think very carefully before signing up for any task…"
The entire hall stood silent at the man's ominous warning before he nodded to himself and continued, "With that out of the way, I believe it's time for us to talk about the specifics of the tournament. As you probably know, there will be seven different tasks, each one taking place in a different school. Madame Maxime, who has graciously invited us into this prestigious institution will announce the first task after I am done with my announcements, so I will leave the details to her. Each task can have one or multiple champions and the winner of each task will receive a very special prize which will be revealed with the tasks are announced. You will be scored with a score out of ten, from each of our expert judges, culminating in a score out of fifty. Now, to introduce our judges which will remain until the end of the tournament."
"As our judges, we have Rudolph Spielman from Germany, Elena Vasilev from Russia, Lars Erikson from Sweden, Catarina Barros from Portugal, and finally, Albus Dumbledore from Britain."
Well, fuck.
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AN: I sort of wrote this on two hours of sleep. As usual, please let me know what you think, and if you think I should change anything, as well as 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.
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