And so, the second task of the Triwizard Tournament came to a close with all champions safe and successful.
For Harry, this particular challenge had gone far too smoothly especially compared to the terrifying first task where he'd faced a fully grown dragon.
It was almost unsettling how straightforward it had been.
After all, the first time he'd been required to face down a thirty-foot Welsh Green breathing fire, whereas this time he'd only needed to retrieve someone from the bottom of the Black Lake using magic he'd already practiced. The difficulty level seemed extremely reduced.
At least for him, with his preparation and scouting trips, it had been remarkably easy.
The final scores confirmed as much. He secured first place once again without any real suspense or competition, his performance was clearly superior to the other champions.
Though the judges' panel was now down two members with Karkaroff injured and Crouch dead, this actually made the scoring process considerably fairer in Harry's favor.
After all, one of those absent judges had been particularly and inexplicably harsh on Harry throughout the competition, consistently scoring him lower than his performance.
February 25th, the first day after the competition's conclusion.
Early in the morning, before most students had even stirred from their beds, Ron paced anxiously back and forth in the Gryffindor common room, practically wearing a visible track into the carpet.
His footsteps created a steady rhythm of back and forth, back and forth that was beginning to drive the few early risers present absolutely mad with secondhand anxiety.
Finally, after watching this nervous show for nearly twenty minutes, Hermione couldn't stand it anymore.
"Haven't you already spent weeks preparing to face Malfoy?" She said with helplessness, setting down the Advanced Arithmancy textbook she'd been trying unsuccessfully to read.
"You've learned plenty of useful spells, and Harry's taught you loads of practical combat techniques and strategies. There's absolutely nothing left to worry about. You're as prepared as you can possibly be."
"I know that," Ron replied, barely glancing at Hermione as he continued his relentless pacing.
His shoulders remained tense, his hands clenching and unclenching repeatedly. "But knowing it and feeling it are two different things."
He and Hermione still had some significant unresolved issues between them as the tension from their argument about Krum hadn't fully dissipated but now was clearly not the appropriate time to discuss or address that complicated situation.
The most important and pressing thing at the moment was his upcoming duel with Malfoy.
After all, Ron had been the one to issue the formal challenge. If he actually lost after all this buildup and preparation, it would be utterly humiliating.
He'd previously mentioned that he and Malfoy would duel before the entire student body in some grand show, though that particular plan wasn't remotely realistic, of course.
Private duels between students were specifically and explicitly forbidden at Hogwarts under school regulations, listed right there in the student handbook that no one actually read.
Such a public demonstration would lose their house an enormous number of points, potentially in hundreds which simply wasn't worth the temporary satisfaction.
So, after some practical consideration, they'd altered the format and venue of the duel significantly. It would still take place secretly in their old dueling spot near the Forbidden Forest, away from the faculty. But the crucial difference this time was that their entire duel would be recorded in its whole using magical recording equipment.
Needless to say, if Ron lost spectacularly, Malfoy would undoubtedly spread the humiliating footage throughout the entire school within hours, probably making copies to post in every common room.
The thought made Ron's stomach churn with anxiety.
"Don't be so nervous, Ron," Harry said encouragingly from his position sitting backwards in one of the comfortable armchairs, his chin resting casually on the backrest as he watched his friend's nervous marching.
"Just like we practiced during all those training sessions—grip your wand firmly but not too tight, pronounce the incantations clearly with proper emphasis. If you perform well and remember everything we covered, your chances of defeating Malfoy will be as high as thirty percent!"
Ron had been gradually calming down somewhat during the first part of Harry's reassurance, his breathing evening out. But after hearing the latter half of Harry's sentence, that specific percentage his face immediately fell again, hope was draining away.
"Maybe you could work on giving me a little more confidence than that," He said flatly, stopping his pacing to stare at Harry. "Thirty percent? That's barely better than one in three."
Harry shrugged apologetically, realizing his honesty might not have been helpful.
True confidence couldn't be built through empty reassurance alone as false hope would only make an eventual loss worse. But honestly, after all these weeks of intensive special training, Ron's measurable progress had been apparent to everyone who'd observed their practice sessions.
His spell work had improved intensely, his reflexes had sharpened, and his strategic thinking was developing.
As long as he stuck to his own practiced rhythm during the actual duel and didn't let Malfoy's inevitable taunting throw him off, there genuinely shouldn't be any serious problems.
Come to think of it, Harry suddenly realized with some surprise that he hadn't actually seen Malfoy around the school in quite some time, not in classes, not at meals, not even wandering the corridors with his usual bodyguards. He hadn't even spotted the platinum blonde hair at yesterday's tournament competition by the lake.
Where had Malfoy been spending all his time?
That evening, as the winter sun set early behind the mountains, Harry deliberately intercepted Colin Creevey in the corridor just as Colin was heading enthusiastically toward the Great Hall for dinner.
"Colin! Wait a moment—"
Harry lowered his voice and quickly pulled the surprised Colin into an empty corner near a suit of armor, checking to make sure no one was watching.
"What is it?" Colin looked at the mysteriously behaving Harry with curiosity.
Harry Potter actually taking the initiative to find him—now that was an extraordinarily rare occurrence, almost unprecedented. Normally it was Colin who enthusiastically pestered Harry Potter for photos and autographs, not the other way around.
"I need to trouble you with something important," Harry said seriously, keeping his voice low. "Do you have anything that can record moving video? Like a magical video camera or something similar?"
At these words, Colin's eyes immediately lit up with unmistakable excitement, practically glowing in the dim corridor.
"Yes, of course I do!" He exclaimed, then caught himself and lowered his voice to match Harry's tone.
He excitedly smoothed his messy hair with one hand, then reached into his school robe pocket and pulled out a heavily scratched crystal sphere about the size of a tennis ball.
"I picked up this little treasure at a secondhand shop in Diagon Alley just last month," He explained enthusiastically, clearly proud of his achievement. "The shopkeeper said it was an obsolete Ministry interrogation recorder from the seventies. The memory storage function was completely broken, and the image recording system was badly damaged too. That's why she was selling it for only three Galleons instead of the usual fifty."
"But then it's basically broken, isn't it?" Harry asked with reasonable confusion, taking the sphere to examine it. "What good is a broken recorder?"
"Don't worry about that," Colin smiled with pride and carefully handed him the crystal sphere. "Here's the important part: I found detailed technical information about this model in the library, took me weeks of searching. And guess what? After studying the enchantments, I actually managed to fix its image recording function! Well, mostly. It's not perfect, but it works."
Harry accepted the surprisingly lightweight crystal orb and noticed incredibly fine silver threads flowing slowly within the sphere's depths, weaving complex patterns.
From his perspective, this was clearly a device with an extremely complex and sophisticated construction, probably requiring dozens of interlocking enchantments.
The fact that Colin had actually managed to repair something like this, even partially, was genuinely impressive!
It truly impressed Harry beyond his expectations.
After carefully examining the crystal sphere for a moment, turning it in his hands to see the threads shift, Harry asked directly: "Could I borrow this temporarily? Just for tonight?"
"Of course you can!" Colin nodded eagerly, then hesitated. "But, um, using this crystal sphere might be a bit complicated and tricky. You'll need to calibrate the focal enchantment and set the temporal recording runes, then... actually, never mind all that technical stuff."
He reconsidered. "Whatever you're trying to record, maybe I could just help you directly instead? I know all the controls."
Harry thought about this practical offer for a moment. Having Colin operate the device would certainly be simpler than trying to learn it himself in an hour.
"That works perfectly. Come with us then," Harry decided.
"Brilliant!" Colin actually punched the air with excitement, then quickly tried to compose himself into something more dignified. "I mean, I'm genuinely honored to help with whatever you need."
Harry couldn't quite understand what Colin was getting so excited about—he hadn't even explained what they'd actually be doing yet or mentioned any danger involved.
After dinner in the Great Hall, which Ron had barely touched despite Hermione's urging, Colin followed Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they slipped carefully out of the castle through a side entrance.
They moved quietly, avoiding the main corridors where prefects might be patrolling.
Night had fallen deep over the grounds, and pale moonlight frosted the sloping lawns with a ghostly layer of silver that made everything look ethereal and slightly unreal.
"Where exactly are we going?" Colin asked nervously, clutching the crystal sphere against his chest. His steps were slowing as they moved further from the castle's reassuring lights.
It was now completely dark except for the moon, and he was beginning to suspect with growing certainty that what they were about to do wasn't entirely above board or approved by faculty.
"Why did we even need Creevey to come along anyway?" Hermione asked Harry quietly, looking somewhat puzzled about the addition.
"We need a dedicated cameraman who knows how to work the equipment properly," Harry replied briefly, keeping his explanation minimal.
Ron remained completely silent throughout this conversation, lost in his own anxious thoughts. His fingers kept drumming repeatedly against his wand in his pocket.
His mind was utterly full of worries: what if Malfoy decided to back out at the last moment? What if he showed up with the entire Slytherin Quidditch team as backup? What if he'd been secretly training even harder?
Lost in these spiraling anxious thoughts, Ron barely noticed that they had already reached the vicinity of the Forbidden Forest, where the treeline created a wall of darkness ahead.
Colin looked at the ominous trees with their twisted branches and shivered. "We're not actually going in there, are we? Into the Forest?"
"No need for that," Harry shook his head reassuringly and pointed to a wide clearing at the very edge of the Forbidden Forest. "We'll wait right here in the open. It's safer."
Colin breathed an audible sigh of relief at this news, but immediately grew nervous again for different reasons as he looked around the isolated clearing. "So, what exactly are we going to be doing out here?"
Only then did Harry finally lower his voice to explain the situation properly: "Ron is going to have a formal duel with Draco Malfoy. We need you to help record the entire thing from start to finish. Think you can handle that?"
"What—!" Colin's eyes instantly widened intensely like saucers, his previous nervousness vanishing without any trace.
It was replaced by absolutely irrepressible excitement that made him practically vibrate. "Blimey, this is incredible! This is actually big news! A Gryffindor and a Slytherin meeting secretly for an illegal duel, and the reason is..."
He started speaking faster.
"Quiet, Colin," Hermione interrupted with a frown, her voice sharp with warning. "Your tone and enthusiasm are making me think uncomfortably of Rita Skeeter. Don't turn this into some sensational story."
"Oh, sorry, sorry," Colin said quickly, catching himself.
He immediately shut his mouth and made an exaggerated zipping gesture across his lips, though his eyes still gleamed with excitement.
The Forbidden Forest at night was utterly silent and somewhat oppressive, with only the occasional rustling of wind through dry leaves and the distant hooting of owls hunting in the darkness creating any sound at all.
The temperature had dropped considerably with nightfall, and their breath misted in the cold air.
"Looks like Malfoy and his lot are running late," Harry observed, glancing around the empty clearing. "Typical. Probably trying to make an entrance."
Ron continued his nervous pacing, twirling his wand repeatedly in his hand while muttering spell incantations under his breath to rehearse them one more time.
Hermione leaned against the rough bark of an old oak tree at the clearing's edge, arms crossed over her chest. She occasionally glanced nervously toward the deeper, darker depths of the Forbidden Forest beyond the treeline. She'd heard disturbing stories that dangerous beasts sometimes wandered beyond the forest's boundaries, and she kept her wand ready just in case.
"They're not going to show up, are they?" Ron stopped his pacing abruptly, his voice carrying both genuine nervousness and perhaps a hint of hope that this could all be called off.
Harry was about to answer reassuringly when suddenly, a distinct rustling sound came from the thick bushes at the very edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Everyone's gaze immediately snapped toward the source of the noise.
"Finally—" Malfoy's typical drawling voice emerged from the darkness, dripping with contempt.
"I thought you'd chickened out and run away, Weasley. Wouldn't have surprised me at all."
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