Last-Minute Changes

  Hermione and Daphne were walking through the third-floor corridors while discussing the weaknesses of their best friends. They needed to make a list to give to their respective alliance partners so they could defeat them in the most embarrassing way possible. Because, of course, that is what friendship is about; watching your friends humiliate themselves in front of a crowd after entering a competition that, coincidentally, they had not been included in. Obviously.

  “I think Harry’s worst weakness is that he’s a mama’s boy,” Daphne said with a confident nod. “Mmm… although that’s also Draco’s weakness,” she added thoughtfully, crossing her arms.

  “And how exactly would that be useful in a competition?” Hermione asked, rolling her eyes. The conversation was starting to feel pointless, and at some point it had clearly turned into nothing more than a criticism session about their friends.

  “Oh. Right. The competition,” Daphne said, as if she had just remembered that was the topic.

  Hermione put on a tired expression before letting her gaze wander down the corridor. Then she suddenly narrowed her eyes and grabbed Daphne’s arm, pushing her behind an old suit of armor.

  “What’s going on?” Daphne asked, confused.

  Hermione gestured for her to stay quiet and pointed ahead, not too far away.

  Daphne looked in that direction and saw who Hermione was pointing at; Pansy Parkinson. The girl was looking around in every direction, acting openly suspicious, while holding several strange objects in her arms that did not exactly match a simple nighttime stroll.

  Pansy turned around, directly toward where they were hiding, so both girls quickly pressed themselves against the wall, holding their breath. After a few seconds, they carefully peeked out again and saw her begin climbing the stairs.

  “Mmm… it’s almost curfew. Where could she be going?” Hermione murmured seriously.

  Daphne adopted an interested expression before smiling.

  “Well. The only way to find out is to… follow her,” she said, grabbing Hermione’s arm and pulling her along after Pansy.

  Hermione was about to refuse; she did not want to break curfew. But just like Daphne, she was genuinely curious about what Pansy was planning, especially since Draco seemed far too guarded around that girl for it to be mere suspicion.

  Pansy moved through the corridors, stopping every so often to look carefully in all directions. Even when she was about to cross paths with a ghost, she would quickly hide in the shadows or behind a column, making her movements even more suspicious. Daphne and Hermione followed at a distance; far enough not to be seen, but not so far that they would lose sight of her.

  “This is… the seventh floor. What could she possibly be looking for up here?” Hermione said, glancing around in confusion. It was one of the quietest and least traveled floors of the castle, although it connected to several towers.

  “Come on,” Daphne whispered, pulling Hermione when she saw Pansy turn a corner.

  The two of them cautiously peeked around the corner. Instantly, both of them made confused faces and stepped out of their hiding spot, walking toward the middle of the corridor.

  Pansy was nowhere to be seen.

  “Eh? Where did she go?” Daphne asked, turning in a slow circle, scanning every corner.

  Hermione was looking around with the same confusion. Her gaze paused briefly on the tapestry of a man attempting to teach ballet to a group of trolls, the scene as ridiculous as ever.

  “Tsk. We lost her. And we wasted our time following her,” Daphne said, annoyed. She walked over to a suit of armor in the corner and lifted its helmet to check whether, in some absurd way, Pansy had hidden inside it.

  Hermione, meanwhile, crouched down when she noticed something beneath the tapestry. An apple lay on the floor. She picked it up and, as her hand brushed against the peel, she felt something strange. She frowned and rubbed her fingers together; a fine, shimmering powder flaked off softly at her touch.

  She recognized that texture.

  “Floo powder?” she murmured, frowning.

  “Maybe someone dropped their apple into a bag of Floo powder. It happens sometimes,” Daphne said with the casual tone of someone to whom that had probably already happened at least once. “Tsk, whatever. It’s better to head back before we get into trouble. I don’t want Mum to punish me again,” she added, shaking her head as she started walking back toward Ravenclaw Tower.

  Hermione nodded, but before following her, she looked for a moment at the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, as if something in that corridor was brushing against her memory without quite revealing itself. Then, finally, she turned around and followed her friend.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  …

  “WELCOME, EVERYONE!” Ludo shouted into the microphone as he looked out at the already euphoric crowd, filled with banners bearing the names of each champion they supported. Three names stood out above the rest; they were even written in specific colors for each of them. Harry in red, Draco in gold, and Luciel in silver.

  It seemed the three of them had gained a considerable number of fans after their proud first task.

  “It appears these days have only increased everyone’s excitement to return to the grounds of Hogwarts and continue this magnificent tournament,” Ludo continued, extending one arm as he looked at the enormous coliseum that had been built this time to accommodate the immense number of spectators who had traveled there.

  The coliseum was constructed entirely of wood; a gigantic structure rising in perfect circles, with tiered stands that seemed to embrace the central arena. However, thanks to the magic reinforcing every beam and joint, the structure was even sturdier than the real Roman Colosseum.

  The crowd roared with anticipation. The air vibrated with restless energy, banners waving as if the entire magical world had gathered there for this single moment.

  “Wooo!” voices echoed from every tier of the stands. Among them, French banners shimmered proudly, their supporters refusing to be outdone.

  “Alright, alright. Calm down. Calm down,” Ludo said, growing slightly more serious. “Save that energy for when the champions come out and show you what they’re made of,” he added with a smile.

  The atmosphere, which seconds earlier had vibrated like a storm, began to settle at those words. The murmur slowly faded until it became an unsettling expectancy. The crowd waited.

  Meanwhile, Harry and the other champions stood inside the tent prepared for them. Their expressions ranged from serious, to nervous, to completely focused. Each of them held in their hand a small animal created by magic; a representation of the creature they were supposedly going to face.

  Fleur’s face was the calmest of all. In her hand rested what appeared to be a unicorn. She let out a soft, almost happy sigh.

  Viktor, on the other hand, maintained a hard gaze. In his hand rested an erumpent; a beast resembling a massive rhinoceros, with a shining horn that looked capable of piercing through anything. His Durmstrang companion held a graphorn, similar to a robust lion with curved horns and thick, resistant hide, famous for enduring attacks that would make other creatures retreat.

  And then there were the last three; the crowd favorites.

  In their hands shimmered three different dragons.

  Harry held a Hungarian Horntail, known for being the most dangerous of all. He observed the small magical dragon with a slightly strange expression as he gently poked the false dragon in his hand, as if testing its shape.

  Draco had a Swedish Short-Snout, which kept spitting tiny blue flames in every direction. Draco stared at it intently, as if analyzing every detail, every possible movement.

  And finally, Luciel held a Chinese Fireball; a dragon famous for its speed and lethal elegance.

  “Well, it seems this time you will not be able to show off so much or claim a total victory,” Fleur said, stepping closer to the three of them with a mixture of pride and challenge.

  Harry glanced for a moment at Fleur’s hand with the small unicorn and then lifted his gaze to her.

  “It is said that unicorns can see a person’s soul. You should be careful, Miss Villain. If they discover your dark heart, they might try to purify you,” he commented in a teasing tone.

  Fleur looked at him with slight annoyance.

  “Oh, yes. I am sure the only thing unicorns see is beauty. So, obviously, I have that more than secured,” she replied, flipping her hair with a confident smile.

  “Ah. Then you have a certain beauty helping you,” Harry said with a soft smile.

  “Of course. You cannot appreciate beauty even when it is right in front of you,” Fleur shot back, stepping closer to him with an expression that seemed to mix pity and provocation.

  “What a misunderstanding. I can appreciate beauty perfectly well when it is standing right before me,” Harry answered calmly, looking directly into her eyes.

  “Ahem. You know, you are making the atmosphere a little uncomfortable,” Luciel intervened, interrupting whatever was beginning to form between them.

  Draco, meanwhile, wore a fed-up expression as he looked away, clearly uninterested in that exchange.

  Fleur seemed to suddenly realize the situation and grew slightly embarrassed. She looked at Harry, who returned a teasing, amused smile. That irritated her for a moment.

  But before she could respond, Ludo, who had finished energizing the crowd outside, entered the tent with a more serious expression than usual.

  “Oh, kids. I am sorry about this, but there is a small problem with your opponents,” he said gravely, looking at the magical animals each of them held in their hands. “A group of… well… particularly agitated magical creatures entered the area where Mr. Scamander was keeping the beasts for the task and…”

  He hesitated.

  “…decided they were theirs.”

  There was a brief silence.

  “They escaped?” Luciel asked, frowning.

  “Eh… yes. Or rather, it could be said that, for some reason, they joined other beasts in the Forbidden Forest and are now refusing to let anyone approach that area. It is as if they decided to claim a new territory or something like that,” Ludo explained, repeating what he had managed to understand from Scamander.

  Harry parted his lips slightly.

  He did not need many explanations.

  A single name crossed his mind.

  “So you do not have the creatures you were supposed to face,” Ludo added, trying to remain calm.

  “Wait, wait. Then is the second task canceled?” Viktor asked seriously.

  “No. Well… Headmaster Black said he would handle it. But you can already assume you will not be facing the animals that hatched from your eggs,” Ludo replied, almost apologizing with his eyes.

  “Wait. We trained for specific creatures. Specific patterns. Specific weaknesses,” Marton snapped, his voice sharp and controlled rather than loud. “You cannot just replace the battlefield and expect the same outcome.”

  “Well… I am sorry,” Ludo answered before practically running out of the tent.

  “Great. So what the hell are we going to face?” Marton muttered through clenched teeth.

  Meanwhile, in the Forbidden Forest, Sirius walked with a slightly amused expression. His steps were calm, as if he were taking a stroll instead of venturing into one of the most dangerous areas of the school. Behind him, a varied group of magical creatures followed; some enormous, others quick and nervous, all moving as if they had accepted a new and rather strange authority.

  Sirius turned for a moment toward the creatures trailing behind him. The forest creaked. Something enormous was moving the trees with far too much enthusiasm. His smile widened just slightly.

  Oh, this was going to be interesting.