HP Magic Biography

In fact, Tuesday was not a happy day for Harry.

If possible, Fan Lin would rather pass the first level by himself instead of Harry.

However, this is destined to be only an idea.

He could only try his best to let Harry master the magic spell proficiently, the eye disease spell or the accident spell.

He can only do this.

Harry wasn't in a very good mood either, even though he had prepared so much, but when he thought of those damned guys, Harry couldn't get motivated.

After all, it is a dragon. Even if the wizard has successfully conquered it, the power of the dragon...

It still made Harry feel bad.

Whether the people around were wishing him luck, or hissing disgruntled We'll have a box of salvage gauze ready, Potter, as he passed by, Harry felt extraordinarily alone.

The tension was so strong that he wondered if he would lose control when he was led to the dragon, cursing loudly at everyone he saw.

Time seemed to be advancing in a way that had never been done before, piece by piece, one minute the three of them were sitting in the first history of magic class, the next minute he was walking to lunch, and then (how was it in the morning? Spent? Where were the last hours before seeing the dragon?)

Professor McGonagall was hurrying towards him in the Great Hall. Many people around have seen it.

Potter, the Warriors are going down to the field now, and you have to prepare for the first task.

Okay, Harry replied. He stood up, and the pork he was eating slammed back onto his plate.

Good luck, Harry, said Hermione, you'll do it!

Yes! said Harry, but his voice was not at all like usual.

Fan Lin looked at Harry worriedly, but Harry was so nervous that he forgot to say goodbye to them.

He and Professor McGonagall left the Great Hall.

Professor McGonagall also looked uncomfortable, in fact, she looked as nervous as Hermione.

As Professor McGonagall and Harry came down the stone steps and were entering the playground that cold November afternoon, she put her hand on his shoulder.

Now,

Don't lie, she said, keep your head down, if things get out of hand we'll have wizards to take control, the main thing is to do your best, no one will look down on you, are you okay?

Yes, Harry heard himself say, yes, I'm fine.

She led him towards the dragon's hiding place, along the edge of the forest, but as they approached the grove of trees that surrounded the wall, Harry saw a newly erected tent with its mouth facing them, hiding the dragon.

You and the other warriors go in here, Professor McGonagall said in an almost trembling voice, and when it's your turn, Mr. Bagmon will also be inside, and he will tell you, tell you the procedure, good luck transport.

Professor McGonagall obviously knew what Harry was about to face, however, this did not change the situation.

Thanks, said Harry, his voice flat and cold.

She leaves at the tent entrance.

Harry went in. Viktor Krum looked more arrogant than usual, which Harry thought was his way of being nervous.

Cedric was pacing back and forth, and when Harry entered, Cedric smiled at him, and Harry smiled back, but the muscles on Cedric's face were stiff, as if he had forgotten how to smile.

Harry! Oh, now! said Bagmon cheerfully, looking him up and down. Come in as if you were at home!

Standing in the midst of this group of all pale-faced warriors, Bagmon looked a bit like an oversized cartoon character. He put on his old wasp robe again.

Okay, now that everyone is here—it's time to start! said Bagmon briskly, When the audience is all here, I'll bring this bag to you,—he held up a little purple The small silk bag shook the four of them—“From the bag, you have to choose a model, and that is the enemy you will face later! Everyone’s is different—well—you know, you have to There are tricks. And I have to tell you something else. Ah, yes, your mission is to get the golden egg!

Harry glanced sideways. Cedric nodded once to show he understood Bagmon's words, and began pacing around the tent again; he looked a little blue.

Fleur Delacour and Krum didn't react at all.

Maybe they thought they'd be uncomfortable if they spoke, and that's how Harry felt too. But at least they did so voluntarily...

After a while, I heard hundreds of footsteps passing by the tent. Those people were talking, laughing, and making noises excitedly. There was only one tent away, but they felt extremely far away from the group of people, as if they were another biological species. generally.

Then - what seemed like a second to Harry - Bagmond opened the top of the little purple silk bag.

Ladies first, he said, handing the bag to Fleur Delacour.

With trembling hands, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, perfect model of a dragon—a Welsh green dragon with a number around its neck.

She already knew what she was going to face. Fan Lin told Fleur that they were friends, and Mrs. Maxime. From the beginning to the end, if Harry didn't tell Digory, only Cedric would be nothing. known.

Fleur Delacour was not surprised, but had a look of resignation.

Krum's reaction also proved Harry right again, as expected. He drew a scarlet Chinese dragon with a number 3 on its neck.

He didn't blink, just stared at the ground.

Cedric reached into his bag and pulled out a blue-gray Swedish Brachysaurus, number 1. Knowing that there was only one 4 left, Harry put his hand into the silk bag and took out a Hungarian Horntail, needless to say The number was 4. When Harry looked down at it, it responded with outstretched wings and tiny fangs.

Okay, you've got them all! Bagmon said. Everyone has drawn out the dragons to face, and the number refers to the order in which you want to fight the dragons. Do you understand? Now I will go out and give some time to the dragons. You guys, I'm going out and explaining. Mr. Diggory, you're the first to get out of the tent when you hear the whistle and go inside the walls, will you? Now, Harry, can I have a word with you? Go outside Come.

Well, okay. Harry said blankly, and he got up, followed Bagmon out of the tent, and walked a short distance into the woods.

Bagmon turned to him with a look of fatherly concern on his face.

How do you feel, Harry? Is there anything I can do for you?

What? said Harry. I—no, no need.

Have you figured out a countermeasure? Bagmon said again, lowering his voice like an accomplice.

Because I don't mind sharing a little bit of info, if you need it, you know. I mean, Bagmon went on, lowering his voice, you're the underdog here, and what can I do to help you? Say it if you're busy.

No, Harry said, refusing so much that he felt it was too rude, no—I—I've decided what to do, thank you. 7110