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7 November 1994, Beauxbatons, FranceRoger Davies cursed as he dodged the incoming giant club in the hands of a particularly large mountain troll. He quickly retaliated with a Conjunctivitis curse at the monster's eye. For the tenth time that day, he lamented at how he had found himself in this position.
He knew that the European tournament wasn't going to be a breeze, but fighting an entire herd of trolls at the same time was a bit too much. That's not mentioning the small Acromantula that kept attacking them every chance it got.
He growled, "Diggory! Just do whatever you're planning."
The Hufflepuff counted down, and the three other Hogwarts Champions sent stunners at the trolls one by one, overwhelming their magical resistance and knocking them out.
With that done, he slumped slightly, "Next time, one of you will be the bait."
Johnson snickered, "I don't think any of us can be a better damsel in distress."
The other two chuckled, infuriating Roger even more. He remembered that their conversation was probably going to be watched by every single important person in Europe, and he didn't want to look like a petulant man-child.
Truth be told, participating in the tournament wouldn't have been his first choice. He didn't like being under pressure, having his every move analysed and critiqued by everyone around him. Unfortunately, he had no other alternatives. He was good enough at Quidditch to probably join a mediocre professional team for a few years, but he wouldn't make enough gold to support him for what came after. He had seen it in professional Quidditch players whose contracts were not renewed or picked up by any other team in their mid-twenties, leaving them without any practical skills in an economy that was going downwards.
Roger also knew that it was unlikely that he would be picked for an apprenticeship or by a guild, especially considering how bad Hogwarts' reputation was on the international scene. He had to prove himself during the tournament and get any sort of opportunity… It was better than graduating with nothing. Even if he didn't win, his future might be set.
They couldn't be all lucky bastards like Warrington, who the Longbottom Matriarch paid off to avoid suing her grandson. That guy might have been hurt during a duel, but he more than made up for it…
Roger had a similar opportunity. Someone had given him a chance. Fifty thousand Galleons to take out the Potter brat. He was going to do it discreetly, the moment they started fighting. He would have blamed it on the confusion and being twitchy. But the boy just had to disappear only five minutes into the task. They had all given up on trying to find him after a while, especially since they hadn't really found anyone else. The boy had probably gotten himself taken out by someone else, taking Roger's dreams of gold and security with him.
Sure, the brat was good. He had seen that the previous year, but he definitely wouldn't be good enough to take out every other champion. Now that would be ridiculous. Even an experienced Auror wouldn't be able to do it. No matter how skilled someone was, numbers did matter, and so did raw power. Potter was, after all, just fourteen years old.
So, yeah. Roger was pissed. The constant attacks by trolls and giant spiders did not help in any way.
The Ravenclaw heard Bole's voice from the other side, "Guys… I think I see some kind of camp."
"Finally," Johnson murmured audibly. He didn't blame her. This was probably the first headway they'd made since the task started.
Sure enough, there was a camp. It was actually a decent one. However, he heard nothing, "It looks deserted…"
Damn it. They could have scored a medallion out of it. Bole didn't seem as pessimistic, "This is too much work for them to just leave. It's been a few hours. They're probably on their way back. We could ambush them."
As he started to step forward, Diggory stopped them with a frantic expression, "Don't! It's warded."
They froze and turned to the Hufflepuff, who sighed in relief, "Don't worry, I'll take care of it."
The boy waved his wand a few times, revealing a dome of light surrounding the camp, which he hit with a burst of spells, making it crack like glass and disappear into mist. Angelina Johnson whistled, "I didn't know you knew any curse-breaking, Cedric."
Diggory looked embarrassed, "I have a knack for it. My neighbour, Bill Weasley, has been teaching me a few tricks during the summer. Those were some pretty impressive wards, too."
They walked up and froze when they saw two boys wearing centurion armour knocked out just at the entrance. Roger knelt down to see if they were still alive, and thankfully, they were still breathing, "They're unconscious…"
Bole entered their camp with his wand raised before lowering it in disappointment, "The rest are here. Also unconscious… I can't see the medallions anywhere. The attackers must have gotten them first."
Diggory looked around and hummed, "No, it was an ambush. Someone broke in here and knocked the three of them out at once. They then either waited for the others and knocked them out as well, or just left another trap…"
"It doesn't matter anyway," Bole complained, "Whoever did this took all of the medallions, not just one. This means that even if we find the others, we won't be able to find the finish line."
"We need to find whoever did this. They still have to go through us to win too," Angelina answered back.
"Unless they already got Potter's medallion…" Roger commented.
Yeah, Potter's actions really were biting them all in the ass. It was already bad enough that they'd wasted hours looking for him, but now he was also a liability.
Diggory, ever the optimist, shook his head, "Look at the bright side, an entire school is out of the task. That means that whoever attacked them will have to be tired and maybe even injured. I trust Harry to take care of himself, and even if he's taken out, I'm pretty sure he would rig his medallion or wear a fake one to get one over on them. You know how tricky he can be."
Even if he was frustrated by the boy's actions, he couldn't help but be amused by the way the boy just liked to outsmart others. There was a real chance that Diggory was right and that Potter would pull one on whoever managed to eliminate him.
It didn't really matter in the end. They still needed to reach the finish line anyway. Potter's fate would not really change anything. Roger was about to respond if it wasn't for Angelina Johnson exclaiming in surprise, "Fuck me!"
His eyes met what she was looking at and he almost did the same. He settled on just gaping at the sight, feeling a mixture of horror and shock.
A giant reptilian creature, one that he had never seen before, laid face-first on the ground. The damn thing was taller than a fucking giant, had claws that were probably sharper than swords, and was impaled by some kind of ice spear.
The trees around it were so uprooted that the area became some kind of artificial clearing. Grass became nothing more than mud, and the ground looked like a dozen wizards had cast explosive charms at the same time.
What fucking kind of battle happened there? Holy shit, they really were getting lucky, weren't they?
Bole was the first to stop gaping, "What the fuck is that?"
Diggory answered him absentmindedly, and didn't even comment on the Slytherin swearing, "I have no clue. My father works in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. I know my magical creatures, but I've never seen anything like it. It's like a hellish mix between a lizard and a water dragon somehow. I've never heard of anything like it before…"
Roger couldn't help but ask, "Is it dead?"
"I don't think so… But I don't really want to check."
Johnson interrupted their conversations, "I think there are people down there…"
She immediately ran forward. Well, that was the typical Gryffindor recklessness. Seriously, how the members of the House of Lions didn't just get themselves killed during their seven years of schooling is simply mind-boggling. Roger attributed it to the efforts of Madam Pomphrey and McGonagall's dedication to the school.
Cautiously, they followed her and were surprised to see around ten other champions lying around the probably unconscious monster. It was easy to tell where they were because there seemed to be a spike of ice near each group for some reason. Cedric looked closer to see who it was and froze in surprise, "This is Krum. I'd recognize him anywhere. Holy shit, this is the Durmstrang Champions."
"Nebelheim too," Johnson retorted. "I remember one of their faces."
"Please tell me they're not dead. I don't think the ICW can handle an international Quidditch celebrity dying in the first task of the tournament," Roger answered.
"They're all just unconscious on my end," Diggory answered after waving his wand.
"So are the ones on my side," Johnson spoke back.
Roger decided to check on another group of students. He waved his wand and saw that they were also still alive. There were electrical burns around them for some reason. Seriously, what the fuck happened, "Did the two schools fight each other and they were interrupted by the monster, and took each other out…"
Bole shook his head, "If they did, then they would have still had their medallions. I can't see any… Can you?"
Diggory shook his head, "Nothing on my end. As far as I can tell, there are two ways that this could have happened. The most likely scenario is that the two schools were fighting, either each other or were working together to fight the monster. Someone used a large-scale spell that knocked out not only the beast but also every champion. Another school, who could have cast the spell as well, would have come here and reaped the benefit. If you look closely, they've all been taken out exactly the same way…"
Roger nodded. It sounded logical. From the way the battlefield looked, they were all surrounding the beast, their wands in hand. They were all taken out by a lightning spell. Maybe one of the Olympus champions did it; they were known for their elemental magic and lightning was obviously used in the fight…
Johnson, though, had to ask, "What's the other possibility?"
"That someone fought both schools and the monster, and took them out all at once…"
And wasn't that a terrifying thought? Roger suppressed the urge to shiver and said, "Unlikely… Even an Auror team would have had a hard time against ten wizards, let alone whatever this monster is…"
Bole shrugged, "In my time in Slytherin, I've learned just how ridiculous things could be…"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Angelina exclaimed.
"Nothing you need to worry about. What we should do is think about the ramifications of this. Three schools are completely out… That narrows down the culprits easily enough. The Greeks, the Spanish, and the French."
Roger spoke up, "My guess is that it was the Greeks. That kind of lightning spell isn't something that's normally taught in other schools. I remember that one of the other champions was bragging about his lightning magic. It might be him."
"That's all guesswork now," Cedric retorted, "We need to find people who aren't actually taken out. Or else, they'll find us, and I'm not really looking forward to being on the receiving end of this."
He pointed at the miniature crater with the monster and the unconscious students. They all gulped and nodded in agreement.
A minute later, they continued exploring the forest, looking for any signs of other people. Half an hour later, they heard the sound of spell fire. They quickly snuck closer under disillusionment and silencing charms and saw an all-out brawl between the French, Spanish and Greek Champions.
For some reason, there were only three of the Greeks. Two of them must have been taken out… Perhaps they had been injured when they fought the giant monster thing in the crater.
To call it chaos would have been an understatement. Each student was fighting people left and right. There was practically no sign of tactics or anything similar. The only ones being remotely organized were the Greek Champions, who must have been ambushed.
One of them was using earth magic to shield the others, who were attacking quickly. One of them was using some kind of water magic, and the other was controlling ash… They were remarkably effective but definitely on the defensive. They must have been the ambushed ones.
Almost half the battlefield was filled with curses, ready to be activated. Already a couple of French Champions had been taken out by them.
Cedric decided to intervene and motioned to the Greek Champions. Bole nodded and they quickly branched off and attacked from behind, taking out the earth manipulator. Immediately, the earth collapsed back into dirt, and the two other Champions were stunned by the other combatants. Well, that was the Greek out for the count, but their position was revealed.
Roger and Angelina were on the other side and stunned two of the French Champions from the back, while the gorgeous girl with silver hair conjured some kind of golden rope that took out two Spanish Champions at once. Roger was captivated by her beauty, but the way Angeline looked at him with a glare just woke him up from whatever spell it was.
The last French Champion was barely able to shield herself when she was hit by five spells at ounce. Unfortunately for her, her shield was quickly overwhelmed and she was hit by a stunner from Angelina.
That left four Hogwarts champions against three Spanish ones. They all stood there, their wands ready. Cedric, of course, tried to be his charming self, "I don't suppose you would agree to split the medallions and make it an actual race?"
They snickered, looking very amused, "Now, why would we do that? The only thing you have is numbers, nothing more. You defeated the Greeks because you attacked from behind like cowards... I bet you've been hiding all this time, acting like scavengers."
The Hufflepuff shrugged, "It's not our fault every single Champion we met was knocked out and didn't have any medallions."
"Who was taken out?" The boy suddenly asked.
"Everyone else… We assumed it was the Greeks considering the damage, but whoever attacked the Romans had to be very skilled in Ward Breaking…"
"That was not us."
Before any of them could process that information further, Bole spoke up, "Guys, the Greeks only have their own medallions. I don't think they were the people who fought Durmstrang and Nebelheim."
"Nothing on the French too… Just their medallions." Johnson commented.
Then who was it?
Before they could even ask this question, the three remaining Spanish Champions seized up and fell down, unconscious. Roger couldn't help but yell out, "What the fuck?"
They didn't even have the time to process what had happened when a sound not too dissimilar to that of a canon spread across the forest. Afterwards, a female voice spoke up with a French accent, "Harry Potter has finished in first place!"
Slowly, a bird came out of nowhere and delivered to them a transfigured bag filled to the brim with medallions, and then flew away. The four Hogwarts champions looked at each other, feeling bewildered, until Johnson finally put what they were feeling into words, "What the actual fuck just happened?"