Chapter 386: Momentum
"Calculated by means?" Bagman asked anxiously.
"That's right, means. Hogwarts currently has two groups of champions. The first group comes from three different houses, while the second group is entirely from Gryffindor. Clearly, this isn't conducive to the relationships between students from the four houses. So, why not bind them together…"
"For example, five schools, plus two judges, let's temporarily calculate each individual event with a maximum score of seventy points. If Hogwarts scores seventy in one group and zero in the other, the final scores for both groups would be thirty-five."
"However, when it comes to the order of events, it's better to calculate separately," he added.
Everyone's eyes lit up, nodding involuntarily.
Madam Maxime furrowed her brow, "If I understand correctly, for Hogwarts to win the competition, they must secure first and second place. That's a significant disadvantage…"
Bagman wiped his round face with a handkerchief, looking very anxious. "Finally, someone speaks fairly. I think the same way. What if one group performs very poorly and drags down the other group that had a chance of winning?"
Karkaroff laughed, "I find this method quite fair."
Bagman said irritably, "What if one group has casualties? Uh, sorry, I mean... What if the champions of one group lose the ability to compete, like suffering from incurable injuries? Their scores would definitely be very low!"
"It's a punishment for cheating by Hogwarts, isn't it?" Karkaroff said smoothly.
"Anyone with a bit of brain wouldn't think it's Hogwarts' doing. I actually think we should investigate everyone present. Furthermore," Moody said impatiently, "You haven't cleared your own suspicions yet, Karkaroff!"
Moody's magical eye swiveled around, looking disdainfully at Karkaroff.
Dumbledore spoke up, his tone as calm as ever, "If there are no objections, we will proceed with the competition using this method. The students of Hogwarts' four houses are originally a unity. Compared to the glory of the Triwizard Tournament, I value their growth in this competition more."
Harry felt guilty to the extreme, he opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione grabbed him and shook her head firmly.
After a long silence, no one raised any different opinions anymore. Everyone accepted that Hogwarts would have two groups of champions and agreed to their unique scoring method. Frankly, this exceeded their initial expectations.
At this point, most people actually believed that the abnormality of the Goblet of Fire wasn't caused by Hogwarts. However, these speculations inevitably cast a shadow in their hearts.
Everyone became deeply contemplative.
"Alright," Dumbledore said with a twinkling smile at the others—Harry could hardly believe how he could manage to smile at this moment—"Next, let Mr. Crouch provide guidance to the champions. Barty?"
Mr. Crouch seemed to snap out of deep thought suddenly.
"Very well," he said, "Guidance, yes… The first task… This Triwizard Tournament is different from the past, completely different… Apart from the unprecedented five schools and six teams, the competition tasks will be conducted in groups. We have to increase the difficulty while ensuring the safety of the champions. Rest assured, the Ministry of Magic has arranged professional personnel to protect everyone. Additionally, Dumbledore has promised to select a powerful wizard to oversee the whole situation... Dumbledore?"
Dumbledore nodded, saying pleasantly, "I've already found a suitable candidate."
"Excellent, let's get back on track." Mr. Crouch said, "The first task is very challenging, and time is tight. It will take place on the 24th of this month… Therefore, we've prepared three key words to give the champions a direction in preparation, but we won't explicitly tell you what you'll face… You'll need to use your brains..."
"The first keyword, courage, assesses your bravery and your willingness to face the unknown—if you're not too foolish to guess. But the Ministry believes that even after knowing what you'll face, having the courage to face it is even more precious."
"The second keyword, cooperation. I don't need to say much about it. Each participating team—consisting of three people—must unite. One person alone cannot complete the task."
"The third keyword, fire," when Mr. Crouch mentioned this word, Granger glanced quickly at Harry, her face a bit pale, but no one noticed. Mr. Crouch continued, "I won't elaborate on this point. Consider it a secret and a test of your wisdom."
He paused, leaving the people in the room to ponder these three words: courage, cooperation, fire. The third word was the most important. Many people realized that the champions might face dangerous magical flames, possibly environmental hazards, traps, or even some magical creatures that controlled fire.
Barty Crouch shrank back into the shadows, while Ludo Bagman exclaimed happily, "Barty has already given everyone hints. As long as you prepare diligently, I believe you can handle those—"
"Fire-breathing dragon!" a voice suddenly exclaimed.
"What, what?" Bagman almost bit his tongue. He turned his head abruptly, staring at the inconspicuous student who had spoken.
Ron stuttered, "I guessed it would breathe fire. All I could think of was a fire-breathing dragon. Back in my first year—"
Harry kicked him, "Um, I mean," Ron desperately racked his brains, not wanting to reveal Hagrid's secret, "Someone in my family works at a dragon reserve. I visited when I was in my first year, and it left a deep impression…"
Bagman's tense face relaxed, "Is that so? Ah, that explains it… But you misheard. Barty said 'fire,' not 'fire-breathing.' " Nervously, he repeated himself, "Not fire-breathing." His body swayed restlessly, his actions not escaping observant eyes.
Felix turned away, quite speechless. Could you make it any more obvious?
"So, it's not a fire-breathing dragon?" a champion from Beauxbatons asked.
Everyone stared at him as if he were looking at a giant monster or something similar. Bagman pretended not to hear his words, turned to Dumbledore, and said, "Our task is almost complete. Tonight, I'd like to stay at Hogwarts, is that alright?"
"Of course," Dumbledore said, "Barty, why don't you stay as well? You look very exhausted."
"No, I must return to the Ministry. It's currently a very busy and challenging time... I've entrusted the young Weatherby with temporary responsibility..." He rambled on, leaving first.
Afterwards, people began to leave one by one. When the others in the room had dispersed—"Alastor," Dumbledore left Moody behind.
The door closed heavily behind them.
Felix stood not far away, waiting quietly like a statue, unmoving.
After who knows how long, the door opened again, and Moody walked out, leaning on his cane and limping away.
A moment later, Dumbledore emerged, looking at Felix in the corner, shaking his head ever so slightly.
Moody is actually the culprit? From the information currently available, his suspicion is the strongest. If not him, then who?
Felix's heart sank as Dumbledore left, leaving him alone to contemplate in silence. Inside the thinking chamber, a parade of figures appeared one after another, some clear, some blurry.
Even Professor Karkaroff's goatee kept flickering in his mind.
"Hmm, it's getting more interesting," Felix muttered to himself. "Perhaps it's time to bring out the Marauder's Map..."
On his way back to the office, he turned a corner and a group of people rushed out.
"Professor, we're willing to forfeit the competition..."
"Yes, Professor Harp."
"Could you talk to Headmaster Dumbledore again—"
Felix raised his hand to silence the chattering of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, creating a gap between them and another group of champions.
"Do you want to become squibs?" he asked.
"What?" Harry exclaimed, not understanding how the conversation had shifted to this topic. Squibs, of course, he knew about them—Filch was a squib, he had known that since his second year.
Hermione's eyes widened with fear, and Harry looked at her with a bewildered expression, a look he had never seen on her face before.
"That's the price of forfeiting, so I'm asking you, do you want to become squibs?"
"What are you joking about?" Harry shouted, his body trembling, a mix of fear and anger coursing through him. He couldn't fathom the consequences of becoming a squib. Hogwarts was the first place he truly belonged to, the first home... he couldn't allow himself to leave.
Even Cedric and the others were stunned. Despite Headmaster Dumbledore emphasizing the unbreakable nature of the contract, they hadn't expected that forfeiting would result in this kind of punishment.
Squibs, losing their magic... In truth, squibs possessed a thin trace of magic that allowed them to see what Muggles couldn't, use certain potions, and enjoy some magical conveniences. But for most of them, they would never be able to fully cast a spell in their lifetime.
"In that case, there's no need to say anything more."
Felix quickly said, "Let's move on to the second topic—why bind Hogwarts' two groups of champions together? That's something you're concerned about, right?"
Six people—Harry, Ron, Hermione, Cedric, Roger Davies, and Collins—nodded in unison.
Felix explained, "On one hand, it's a necessary compromise. You wouldn't want the four internationally renowned magical schools to be at odds with Hogwarts in the coming decades, would you?"
They all shook their heads in agreement.
"On the other hand, it's my personal hope." Felix looked at the stunned faces, finally revealing a smile. "Yes, the current situation is exactly what I wanted to achieve."
"Why?" Harry asked, his voice trembling.
"When Hogwarts had a second group of champions, I immediately realized the danger—not that someone had tampered with the Triwizard Cup's rules, that came later," Felix said, seeing Harry's intention to interject. He quickly added, "I mean, having two groups of champions from Hogwarts wasn't just about honor; it was sowing the seeds of division among the four houses. Although my efforts in the Ancient Runes Club slightly broke down the strong barriers between the four houses, I suddenly realized that if I didn't do something, this tournament might undo all my previous efforts."
"I certainly wouldn't allow such a thing to happen." Felix said. "So after consulting Dumbledore's opinion, I proposed the new scoring system."
Harry and the others stared at him in bewilderment.
"But, Professor Harp," Ron suddenly said, "this will only make Hogwarts lose the tournament. Hogwarts is bound to lose, and it will bring disaster."
"Why do you say that?" Felix politely asked.
"Because, because..." Ron raised his hand, which was trembling uncontrollably, "because... ever since I found out that the first task involves dragons, I've been like this. I'm not cut out to be a champion. If I participate, I won't be of any help, and I'll just be a burden."
"Even hearing the name scares me to death. If I really face a dragon, I'm as good as dead. I would also drag Harry and Hermione down. Just thinking about that scenario..." His face turned pale as he struggled to say, "I'd rather be kicked out and replaced by someone else. Squibs, they... they—"
"Ron..." Hermione said mournfully.
"I know I'm not as good as any of you, even among the selected students, I'm at the bottom—"
"Not the bottom," Felix interjected.
"What?" Ron looked at him in disbelief.
"Not the bottom. What I mean is, you're the worst among the selected students," Felix said. "Among the chosen students, excluding Miss Granger, you're the weakest."
"But Neville..." Ron stared at him, aggrieved.
"Neville knows fewer spells than you, but he's put more effort into Shield and Stun Spells than you have. Most importantly, he's beginning to develop a dueling style that suits him. As time goes on, your gap will become more apparent."
Ron stood there, his mind blank, looking as if he were dazed.
"Professor Harp..." Harry looked at Ron anxiously, then at Felix, not understanding why he was saying this.
"...However, I see great potential in you."
Ron's eyes flickered, and a hint of life returned to his pale face. He repeated with confusion, "Potential?"
"Yes, potential. In truth, your talent isn't bad. Even if you've been messing around, you're still at an average level. In terms of practical ability alone, you can rank ahead of most students in your year..."
Ron looked at him. "But I'm not as good as—"
"You lack the motivation." Felix scratched his head. "An interesting phenomenon is that whether it's in dueling class, Ancient Runes, or the Ancient Runes Club, your performance is consistently average, not too good, not too bad. You're the type that nobody would notice at first glance."
Ron's face wrinkled.
"But actually, these are three different levels of difficulty," Felix continued.
"That's why I think you lack the motivation," Felix said. "Originally, this was your personal choice, and I wouldn't interfere too much. But now the situation is different. For whatever reason, you've become one of Hogwarts' champions."
"In a sense, you're the most crucial one. You should understand what I mean."
Harry had never seen Ron's body shake so evenly, from head to toe. Even his facial muscles were trembling.
"I've decided whether Hogwarts can ultimately win the trophy," Ron said slowly.
"You can think of it this way: if the Triwizard Tournament is compared to a Quidditch match, you're the only goalkeeper," Felix said. "In the past, you didn't have a reason to get stronger, but now you do—"
"Put simply, you're one of the champions now, and your efforts have a chance to bring honor to the school. On a grander scale, every bit of effort you put in now is also protecting the lives of your two good friends—Potter and Granger."
"I'm looking forward to your performance in the first task."
He took a few steps away and turned back to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "The next few days might be tough for you, especially with the addition of another group of champions. And particularly when the scoring rules are announced."
"Only after the first task is over might your situation improve..."
"Professor Harp!" Cedric said, "I'll step forward and explain to the others. I heard it all; Harry and the others are also victims."
"I'll talk to the Ravenclaw students and explain. After all, I'm the prefect." Roger Davies said.
"I will too, Professor Harp." Collins said, glaring at Ron. "I'm determined to win the cup. I'll keep a close eye on you."
Felix smirked, waved his hand, and left.
>
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