The air in Hogwarts Castle felt heavier than usual on the morning the First Task was to be held.
The typically noisy corridors were a little quieter, and students seemed to tread more lightly. The occasional whispers carried an undertone of barely concealed tension, a palpable sense of nervousness that was quietly spreading everywhere.
Dylan first truly felt this atmosphere while walking back to the tower from the greenhouses with Neville.
They had just delivered a magical plant sample that Professor Sprout had requested back to the greenhouse.
Suddenly, the Weasley twins came sprinting toward them, their faces flushed and out of breath, clutching two crumpled, hand-drawn cards. They featured crudely drawn flames and broomsticks, next to the hastily scrawled words, "GO FOR IT!"
"Dy-Dylan!" Fred's cheeks were bright red, his words tripping over themselves. He gestured at the card's design as he rushed to speak. "You absolutely, positively have to win today! We'll be shouting for you from the stands! And whatever you do, please, please don't be nervous!"
George nodded alongside him, his own card nearly crushed in his hand. Sweat beaded on his forehead and trailed down his temples; he was clearly trembling, even though he was the one offering encouragement.
Dylan couldn't help but smile at how tense the brothers were, almost walking out of step.
They were clearly more nervous than he was, the one actually about to compete.
"We already gave Harry his card, so you just promise us you won't panic!"
"Don't worry," Dylan replied easily. "You two can be nervous enough for all of us."
By the time they reached the Great Hall for breakfast, the tension was even more pronounced.
Normally, students only moved along their own House tables, but today, many were purposefully detouring to the Gryffindor table. Some clutched homemade gifts, others simply blushed and murmured "Good luck." A few stood awkwardly nearby for ages before timidly slipping a scribbled note of encouragement onto the table.
After a while, the unusual traffic was too obvious for Dylan's friends to ignore.
Neville set down his toast and looked at Dylan, who had just accepted a gift from a well-wishing student. Neville looked perplexed. "Dylan, why do I feel like... the people wishing you well are more nervous than you are? Did you see that Hufflepuff girl just now? Her voice was shaking when she said 'good luck,' and she was clutching the tablecloth for dear life."
"Oh, that's right!" Fred suddenly clapped his hand, as if remembering a crucial piece of information. He turned to Dylan. "I overheard some students talking as I came past the Gryffindor table—they were hinting that the First Task involves dragons."
"Could it be that everyone knows about the dragons and that's why they're so worried for you?"
"Well, if it is dragons, it makes perfect sense that Dylan isn't nervous, doesn't it?" George said, his tone certain. "With magic as powerful as his, I reckon the dragon should be the one who's worried."
Fred gave him a quick look, then turned back to Dylan. "That may be true, but do you know what the actual challenge is? Is it just avoiding the dragon, or do you have to complete some kind of specific task?"
"I'm not entirely sure," Dylan shook his head, scooping up a spoonful of porridge. "But Cedric told me yesterday that he's observed the dragons being used for the tournament, and they seem significantly larger than normal ones, and incredibly aggressive. They hiss loudly if you even get close."
He paused, adding, "Based on his judgment, these dragons are very likely to be females—female dragons are particularly fierce and larger during the nesting period."
"If that's the case, the challenge isn't hard to guess. It'll probably be about retrieving something from near the dragon, like an egg, since that's the best way to test how you handle a ferocious creature."
"How did Cedric manage to get so many details about the dragons?" Fred asked curiously. He didn't recall Cedric, though magically talented, ever having a special interest in Dragonology.
"I think his dad works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry, doesn't he?" George frowned, trying to remember.
"That's right, that's the reason," Dylan confirmed. "Cedric said his dad is currently handling the logistics for the dragons being used in the Tournament, and occasionally mentions their habits to him. That's how he was able to make that assessment."
Just then, a commotion broke out at the High Table.
Headmaster Dumbledore stood up, holding a silver megaphone. It was clearly a signal for the champions to assemble.
Dylan put down his cutlery, clapped his friends on the shoulder, and walked toward the staff table. Behind him, the loud cheers of his housemates, mixing with the rapidly rising din of the Great Hall, were clearly audible.
In fact, Dylan and Cedric had once had a long, in-depth conversation.
They were sitting in a classroom, discussing their future plans. Cedric had mentioned seriously that he hoped to work for the Ministry of Magic after graduation, with the goal of joining the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, working alongside his father, Amos Diggory.
He had grown up listening to his father's stories about all kinds of magical creatures and was deeply drawn to the work.
Cedric had been working towards this goal ever since.
He'd even slowed down on his high-profile romance lately.
During recent holidays, he mostly went out with his father on assignments, helping to deal with magical creature disturbances. Sometimes he helped relocate lost beasts, sometimes he tracked the movements of Fantastic Beasts, and sometimes he even assisted with their health checkups.
These experiences had given him a wealth of practical knowledge about magical creatures. His recent studies, in particular, had given him an understanding of dragon habits, physical traits, and even emotional states that far surpassed his peers.
That was the key reason he could accurately determine that the tournament dragons were all females.
Returning to the morning of the First Task, the atmosphere in the classrooms was noticeably relaxed.
Almost every student was distracted by the prospect of the afternoon's competition.
In Herbology, someone held a pair of tweezers but stared wistfully out the window toward the Forbidden Forest, as if trying to catch a glimpse of a dragon breathing fire through the dense trees.
In Charms class, students' incantations were quieter than usual, but private discussions buzzed constantly. Some wondered if the First Task would start that afternoon. Others pressed their Prefects about when they would be told to assemble to watch. Even the most dedicated students held their wands motionless in mid-air.
This anxious wait continued until noon.
As students filed into the Great Hall for lunch, they suddenly found a crowd gathered in front of the notice board in the entrance hall. A brand new piece of parchment was pinned in the center, bearing a Spectator Notice written in golden ink.
Almost simultaneously, Headmaster Dumbledore took the steps to the High Table. His voice, amplified by a Sonorus Charm, was gentle but clear, and carried across the entire hall.
"Students, all classes for the afternoon are cancelled. Please return to your respective common rooms after lunch. Your Prefects will organize you and lead you to the temporary grandstands by the Quidditch Pitch to watch the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament."
The Great Hall erupted in cheers. The students' excitement could no longer be contained.
After lunch, the students from the other schools quickly left the hall as well. The Beauxbatons students smoothed their robes, while the Durmstrang students discussed strategy amongst themselves. Everyone's face held the same look of anticipation, having clearly received the same viewing instructions.
Just as Dylan walked out of the Great Hall, he saw Luna waiting for him around the corner of the corridor. She held a small charm, woven with silver thread and featuring a pale blue bead.
"Here, this is for you. It's supposed to bring good luck."
Luna handed him the charm, her voice as light as ever. "Don't worry too much about the result this afternoon, just come back safely! Good luck, Dylan!"
Dylan accepted the charm, quietly thanked her, and then met up with Cedric, Draco, and Harry. They followed Professor McGonagall toward the edge of the grounds.
"Now, don't you worry, children."
Professor McGonagall walked ahead of them, her usually steady voice betraying a hint of uncharacteristic waver. She blinked frequently and glanced around, her fingers tightening slightly on her wand. She was clearly less composed than she seemed.
"Headmaster Dumbledore is already waiting there, and there are Ministry of Magic officials and professors from all three schools handling security. If anything goes wrong, someone will be there to control the situation immediately. You have nothing to fear."
She paused, turning to face the four of them, her eyes full of approval. "I have seen your hard work over this past while—the training at the Whomping Willow every morning, the focused practice of the Shield Charm after class. You have poured more sweat into this than anyone."
"You are, without a doubt, the most outstanding champions. Believe in yourselves, and just perform as you have been."
As she spoke, Professor McGonagall led the four across the grass, which was dusted with a light layer of snow.
In the distance, next to the pitch, a spectacular circular grandstand came into view.
The stands were supported by dozens of huge log pillars, each one etched with magical runes for reinforcement. The seating was made of thick, spliced oak, covered with soft wool padding. Heavy ropes, as thick as a wrist, were wound around the key joints and treated with a waterproof, anti-snow potion. The entire structure felt both solid and meticulously prepared.
As they got closer, the details of the temporary stands became clearer.
A wide boardwalk, made of thick pine planks sealed with fine rope to prevent snow buildup and slips, led up to the entrance. It allowed students from all schools to quickly reach their designated areas.
The seating was arranged in neat tiers, rising progressively higher. Each row was half a metre wider than the one below, ensuring that students in any seat would have a clear, unobstructed view of the arena below, without being blocked by the people in front.
The log pillars supporting the stands were not only massive but extended nearly three meters above the top row. Beams rested on the pillar tops, supporting a large canopy of deep blue canvas. The canvas edges were secured to the pillars with metal rings. This would shield spectators from blinding sunlight on clear days and block falling snow on days like this. The canvas was also treated with a waterproofing potion, ensuring no moisture would leak onto the seats even in foul weather.
To the left of the stands was the arena for the competition: an open, spacious area enclosed by a magical fence. The snow on the ground had been cleared, exposing the brown earth, and in the distance, several metal stakes used to secure the dragons were visible.
To the right of the stands stood a tall, dark green tent. Its flap was fastened to the sides with bronze clasps, and the Triwizard Tournament crest was embroidered on the canvas—clearly the waiting area for the champions.
Professor McGonagall stopped at the entrance of the tent, not proceeding any further.
She pointed to the tent flap, her voice gentle but firm. "You are to go inside. Someone in there will tell you what you need to do next."
"Remember to stay calm, and do not let nerves cloud your judgment."
Dylan, Cedric, Harry, and Draco stepped into the tent and immediately sensed the spaciousness inside. The tent was much larger than it appeared from the outside, clearly thanks to an Undetectable Extension Charm.
The Beauxbatons champions were already there. Some were leaning against the tent walls, others stood near the central round table. They merely nodded briefly as the four Hogwarts champions entered, a simple acknowledgment without further interaction.
The tent was furnished with a dozen soft armchairs, upholstered in comfortable dark grey wool, next to several small round tables holding kettles and cups of hot water.
However, the Beauxbatons champions had chosen not to sit. Instead, they paced anxiously in their corners, occasionally touching the wands in their pockets or muttering something softly to themselves, all clearly tense about the upcoming Task.
Draco saw this, let out a soft "hmph," and walked straight to an armchair away from the entrance to sit down. He crossed his legs and interlaced his fingers in front of him, keeping his back ramrod straight and trying hard to look calm, though the slight tightness around his mouth betrayed his nerves.
"We should sit and wait, too. Standing around only encourages overthinking."
Dylan smiled slightly, took the armchair next to Draco, and poured himself a cup of warm water from the kettle on the table.
Harry and Cedric exchanged glances and also found chairs. Harry pulled out a worn Charms book from his pocket, pretending to flip through it without turning a page. Cedric took a handkerchief from his bag, folding and unfolding it repeatedly, trying to distract himself with small movements.
Soon after, the Durmstrang champions began to enter the tent.
Their reactions were similar to the Beauxbatons champions; they did not sit, choosing instead to stand in the opposite corner of the tent. Some stared blankly at the tent ceiling, others watched the entrance flap. The entire tent was filled with a thick, oppressive silence, broken only by the occasional footsteps and the sound of breathing.
This silence finally broke with the arrival of Ludo Bagman.
He was wearing a brightly colored yellow-and-black robe—the uniform of the Wimbourne Wasps team—with the team's crest emblazoned on the chest. A theatrical smile was fixed on his face.
The moment he walked in, he waved vigorously at the group, his voice booming loud enough to nearly lift the tent roof. "Excellent! So glad to see you're all here! Splendid!"