Wand inspection.
Before the Triwizard Tournament could begin, verifying each champion's wand was a mandatory step, meant to ensure nothing went wrong during the competition.
Beyond safety precautions, the procedure itself hinted at just how dangerous the tournament truly was.
In fact, when Pansy and the others first heard about it, they'd been extremely nervous...
Aside from the other champions, Draco also noticed the witch standing beside Ludo Bagman.
She seemed to sense his gaze, because the witch in the crimson robe suddenly gave him a fawning smile.
When she smiled, three gold teeth glinted, and her carefully styled yet oddly eccentric hair only added to the impression of showy superficiality. Draco couldn't recall much about her.
But it was obvious she knew him—and feared the Malfoy family behind him. Otherwise, she wouldn't have tried so hard to curry favor...
As Draco frowned, trying to remember whether he had ever seen her at some banquet or pure-blood gathering, Ludo Bagman continued explaining why they were here.
"Not to worry. The expert is upstairs with Dumbledore. Once they're done, we'll take a few photos together."
Then he gestured to the witch beside him. "This is Rita Skeeter. She's writing a little article for the Daily Prophet about the Triwizard Tournament..."
"Not so little, Ludo," Rita Skeeter cut in.
Her voice carried a theatrical affectation that made Draco's brow tighten.
Watching her approach, he noticed her gaze never left Harry Potter, as if something about the Chosen One captivated her more than anything else in the room.
A moment later, Rita Skeeter was standing right in front of Harry.
Between Harry Potter and the famous Quidditch star next to him, it was clear who interested her more—and it wasn't the athlete.
"Ludo, before we begin, might I have a word with Harry? The fourth champion in history, you know... it'll add some charm to the piece."
"No problem! I'm sure Harry would be delighted."
"Excellent!"
Without giving Harry a chance to refuse, Rita Skeeter's bright red fingers wrapped around his arm, and she promptly dragged him out of the room.
And Harry's unwilling expression was obvious to anyone with eyes.
Draco didn't bother responding to Harry's fleeting plea for rescue. He simply followed Ludo Bagman deeper into the room. Besides, Harry hadn't actually asked him for help.
Fleur Delacour, however, seemed quite fascinated by the floating quill drifting obediently beside Rita Skeeter...
At the far end of the room, several chairs had been set out. Four of the five judges were already seated there—Karkaroff, Maxime, Crouch, and Dumbledore.
The one vacant chair belonged to Ludo Bagman, who had brought the three champions in.
In front of the judges sat a velvet-covered table, and beside it stood a wizard Draco found oddly familiar.
That was...
"Allow me to introduce Mr. Ollivander. He'll be inspecting your wands to ensure they're in perfect condition before the competition. As for Harry—"
"Albus, Harry's currently being interviewed by Rita. He'll need a bit of time. Let's start with the other champions first."
"I see..."
Draco wasn't sure if it was just his imagination, but he thought he caught a flicker of displeasure on Dumbledore's face.
Was it annoyance at Bagman making decisions on his own? Or was there something about Rita Skeeter that bothered him?
"Very well, Miss Delacour, would you step forward first?"
As Fleur Delacour moved ahead, Draco finally redirected his attention to the ceremony.
He was genuinely curious about how wand inspection worked.
Ollivander accepted Fleur's wand with solemn care, then swept it through the air, producing bursts of light and spirals of flame.
"Indeed, nine and a half inches, rosewood, flexible—oh! This is..."
"...a Veela hair core. My grandmother's!"
Fleur's face radiated pride as she said it, without the slightest attempt to hide her Veela heritage. At least, Draco couldn't detect any hint of pretense. Setting aside her magical strength, it wasn't hard to see why she'd been able to stand out as Beauxbatons' champion. And why Madame Maxime valued her so highly...
With Fleur's wand inspection finished, it was Viktor Krum's turn. But before Draco could really pay attention, Fleur Delacour, who had just stepped back, suddenly appeared right in front of him. Light on her feet, she had slipped over without anyone noticing.
"?"
"Is this your wand?"
Draco blinked, momentarily startled, then glanced at the wand hidden beneath his robes. Or more accurately, the wand tucked inside the staff.
What Fleur didn't expect was that her question received no answer at all—only a light, dismissive look from Draco that made her expression tighten in irritation.
Before she could react, Viktor Krum's turn wrapped up sooner than expected.
"You!?"
"Next, our youngest champion, Mr. Malfoy. Please step forward."
Frustrated, Fleur could only glare at Draco's back, grinding her teeth loudly enough for Madame Maxime to shoot her a strange look. When the headmistress shifted her gaze back to Draco, there was a faint trace of caution in her expression.
Draco, unaffected, drew his wand from beneath his robes and set it gently onto the velvet-covered table. No one noticed the staff still hidden beneath his cloak.
"This is... I never expected to see it here. Yes, the most unique wand."
"The most special?"
"Mr. Ollivander?"
The wandmaker, lost in his own thoughts, didn't answer any of the questions. Instead, he regarded Draco's wand with a fond, almost childlike delight, giving it a joyful little flourish.
The sight left Ludo Bagman and the others visibly surprised.
Was this wand really that extraordinary...