Hogwarts, a Scholar Becomes a God

UPDATE: It's a chilly November afternoon.

Clark and Professor McGonagall walked out of the castle together.

They walked down the steps to the outdoors, and Professor McGonagall, who looked more nervous than Clark, suddenly put his hand on his shoulder.

"Okay, don't be nervous," she said, "keep your head down... Although we can't have some wizards around to protect you, Dumbledore said there was no danger in the whole game... Now the most important thing is to give your best No one will think that you are inferior to others in your own abilities...Are you all right?"

The dean of Gryffindor rambled, full of concern for his own students.

Faced with this concern, Clark looked at her with a smile, which greatly relieved Professor McGonagall's nervousness, "Professor, don't worry, I feel great!"

Professor McGonagall nodded, then led him into the Forbidden Forest, following the road that had been opened up before, towards the direction of Dragon Raising Farm.

When they got closer, Clark found that the space door leading to the dragon farm had been surrounded by a huge wooden ring stand.

Professor McGonagall took him around to the other side of the stand, where a tent was erected where the warriors were waiting to enter, and the entrance of the tent was facing them.

"You have to go in with the other warriors," Professor McGonagall said in a trembling voice. "Mr. Bagman is also inside... He will tell you the steps... Good luck."

"Thank you, Professor," Clark thanked, and Professor McGonagall led him to the entrance of the tent, and Clark walked in.

At this time, the other three warriors were already inside.

Fleur Delacour sat on a low wooden stool in the corner. She was not at all calm as usual, and she looked very pale and sickly.

Viktor Klum looked gloomier than usual, which Clark guessed was his way of showing his inner tension.

Bruce Stewart kept pacing back and forth, and when Clark came in, Bruce gave him a small smile, and Clark just nodded at him.

Besides them, there was another person in the tent.

"Clark! That's great!" Bagman said cheerfully, turning his head to look at him. "Come in, come in, relax, as if you were at home!"

Wearing an old Hornets robe, he stood in the midst of the pale warriors, looking like a big cartoon character.

"Okay, now that we're all here—it's time to give you a briefing!" Bagman said gleefully.

"I'll hand this bag to each of you in turn in a moment."

He held up a purple silk bag and shook it at them.

"You take out a miniature model of the thing you're going to face! They're of different—um—kinds.

As for your mission...it will be announced by the headmaster of Durmstrang himself after the audience has gathered for a while. "

Clark looked around, and Bruce nodded to show that he understood what Bagman was saying, before pacing up and down the tent again.

Fleur Delacour and Krum didn't react in the slightest, presumably they felt that once they spoke, they would vomit in panic.

At this moment, above their heads, the sound of hundreds of feet walking over the planks rang out.

The owners of those feet were talking and laughing excitedly, looking forward to the next performance of the Warriors.

Inside the tent, Bagman was already unbuttoning the purple silk sack.

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

She reached into a cloth bag with a trembling hand, and pulled out a small, lifelike model of a dragon—a Welsh green dragon with a number tied around its neck: number two.

Clark was relieved to see Fleur didn't show the slightest surprise.

This is the most harmless of the four fire dragons. It can be said that she is lucky enough.

Krum followed Fleur, and he took out the bright red Chinese fireball with the number three tied around his neck.

This was the second worst, but he didn't even blink, just sat down and stared at the ground.

Bagman handed the purple silk bag to Clark, but Clark bowed politely and motioned for Bruce to smoke first.

Bruce was also polite, put his hand into his pocket, and took out the silver-blue Swedish short-nosed dragon with the number one tied around his neck.

This time Bagman sighed, and Clark knew what was left for him.

He reached into his silk pocket, and sure enough, he took out the Hungarian Horntail, number four.

As he looked down, the little dragon spread its wings, revealing its tiny fangs.

"Okay, you all got it!" Bagman said, "You all drew the fire dragon you are about to face. The number on its neck is the order in which you will deal with the fire dragon, understand?"

The four warriors nodded.

"Okay, then I'll leave you guys for a while now, because I'm going to explain to the audience.

After a while I said, 'The game is on, Warriors are welcome', and you guys go out, understand?

So... Clark... may I have a few words with you alone? come outside? "

"Eh... ok."

Clark stood up and went outside the tent with Bagman.

Bagman took him a little further, into the bushes, and turned to look at him with a fatherly expression on his face.

"How are you feeling, Clark? Is there anything I can help you with?"

"What?" Clark said. "I—no, no need."

"Do you have a clue?" Bagman asked in a sneaky lower voice.

"I can give you some ideas if you want. I mean," Bagman continued, lowering his voice, "you're at a disadvantage here, Clark...if I can help …”

"Even if you can help, I won't forgive you your debts," Clark said first. "It's just a few words, but it's not worth a few hundred Galleons."

"I didn't...that's not what I meant," Bagman said awkwardly. "I just wanted to help a little bit. I'm also a British wizard. I..."

"No, I'm sure." Clark said very simply.

"Okay then." Bagman touched his nose.

At this time, a sharp whistle sounded in the direction of the arena.

"God, I have to run!" Bagman said in a panic, and ran away.

Clark walked towards the tent, and happened to see Bruce coming out of it, his face was even more ugly than before, it seemed that the environment inside the tent was too depressing.

But when the two of them passed by, Bruce still said, "Good luck!"

In his opinion, Clark's modesty just now made his task a lot easier.

Clark returned to the tent and sat next to Fleur and Krum.

A few minutes later, Bagman's voice rang above their heads.

"Okay, I see that everyone has almost arrived, then, let's welcome with the warmest applause - the warriors are entering!"

The thunderous applause sounded above their heads, which meant that they should enter the arena.

Clark stood up and got out from the other side of the tent together.

As soon as the curtain was opened, the clamorous voice was like pressing the zoom-in button, causing their scalps to feel numb.

In front of the four of them was an open space the size of a football field. In the center of the open space, the space door of the secret realm of Yanglong Field stood there quietly.

In front of the space door is a goblet of fire burning with blue flames.

"Okay, you can see that our four warriors have already played, they are-

Bruce Stewart of Ilvermorny!

Viktor Krum of Durmstrang!

Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons!

And Clark Prewett of Hogwarts! "

The audience applauded again, and the four of Clark also waved to the audience in the surrounding stands.

"Then it's up to our principal Karkaroff in Durmstrang to start the next step of the game.

Principal Karkaroff, please come forward—"

Amid the applause of the crowd, Durmstrang's principal, Igor Karkaroff, carefully walked down from the rostrum with a scroll of parchment full of words in his hand.

His movements are so gentle and steady, and two opposing feelings have reached a wonderful harmony and unity in him.

Clark looked at Karkaroff as he walked in, and at the scroll of parchment in his hand.

This scroll of manuscript paper is very old, the edges are frayed and fluffed, and it looks like just a few ordinary pieces of parchment.

However, in Clark's extraordinary perception, the walking Karkaroff seemed to be holding up a hill.

It seems that what he is holding in his hand is not a roll of fluffy parchment, but a heavy history and civilization.

It is a kind of difference and material, belonging to the spiritual sense of heaviness.

The spectators in the stands around the stadium were also shocked by the sense of oppression emanating from his behavior, and the originally buzzing stands became silent.

Everyone's eyes were on Karkaroff, watching him move step by step in front of the Goblet of Fire.

The burning goblet of fire also seemed to sense that something remarkable was approaching, the blue flames instantly became a bit exuberant, and the flames shot up Lao Gao.

Karkaroff walked in front of the Goblet of Fire. The next moment, he made an unexpected move and threw the parchment scroll in his hand into the Goblet of Fire.

The blue flame licked the yellow parchment, turning it into ashes in an instant.

Immediately afterwards, as if gasoline had been poured into the fire, the flames in the Goblet of Fire rose into the air with a "boom" and expanded into a huge fireball.

The blue fireball burned over the field of play, accompanied by the ashes of the parchment scroll flying and rising, and countless strange phantoms also flashed quickly in the flames, one after another.

Countless mountains, rivers, villages and towns have emerged and disappeared one after another.

Countless figures were born, grew, hunted, shouted, multiplied and died.

Countless mermen, gnomes, fairies, giants, dragons fought, betrayed and reconciled.

All kinds of images are co-authored and competed, as if evolving a long historical drama, and like a young child who has just learned to paint, repeatedly scribbling and repainting on the drawing board.

Karkaroff stood under the fireball, his arms outstretched, and he recited aloud the obscure, convoluted German poetry.

Although I couldn't understand what he was saying, the content of the lyrics seemed to be related to the image in the flame.

So with his chanting, those originally chaotic flame images also began to accelerate their evolution.

At the same time, thick dark clouds began to accumulate on the originally clear sky.

During such waiting, a scene flashed through the fireball.

The dark world, the shattered earth, the poisonous black smoke rising from fire and lava, darkened the whole world.

Countless huge corpses crawl on the ground, blood pouring into the shattered earth like a river.

A giant as tall as a mountain stood on top of the corpses of the same kind covered in scars all over his body. In the palm of his outstretched right hand, a golden ring with a charming light shone brightly.

The giant looked at the ring obsessively and carefully placed it on his finger.

The next moment, he grew hard scales and sharp fangs in the roar of pain, and his thick breath turned into a fiery flame, sweeping the entire sky and the earth together.

Lightning flashed in the dark clouds in the sky, and Karkaroff's spirit was shocked. Seeing that the image of the dragon incarnated by the giant was about to blur, he quickly pushed his hands forward.

The huge blue fireball with the phantom was like a meteor, and it smashed directly on the space door of the dragon farm.

Accompanied by it, there was a huge twisting thunder, like a javelin thrown by the god-king Odin, bombarded down heavily.

The fear spread instantly, Huang Huang Tianwei drove the crowd watching in the stands, raised his arms subconsciously, and covered his face.

However, things did not develop as they thought, and the collision of fireball, thunder and space gate finally merged together in a strange way.

Those blue lightnings and flames, and even the phantoms in the flames, were all swallowed up by the space gate long whales.

After the spectators put down their shielding arms~www.readwn.com~ in the center of the arena, only a extinguished Goblet of Fire was left, and behind the Goblet of Fire, a huge portal burning with blue flames and surrounded by thunder.

Everyone was puzzled by this strange scene. They didn't understand, isn't this the Triwizard Tournament?

Fortunately, Principal Karkaroff quickly answered their doubts.

"First game!

Dear warriors, you need to enter the historical fantasy in front of you in turn, fight against the giant dragons in the fantasy, and bring out the most precious treasures from the treasures guarded by 'them'. "

Karkaroff's words caused the audience to discuss again.

They didn't know what a historical fantasy was, but they understood what Karkaroff said.

The next task for the warriors should be to enter the space door in front of them, pass the test inside the door, and bring something out under the watch of a fire dragon.