HP: A Magical Journey

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“Ladies, gentlemen, and interesting miscellanea — beloved friends and tolerated acquaintance,” he said and took a pause as a big smile appeared on his face, “Welcome . . . to the Tri-wizard Tournament — first task: Dancing with Dragons.”

The second he finished, the students in the stands shattered the stunning silence, and if there was a roof over the stadium, the cheers of awes and excitement would’ve blown it off. The seven smoke rings, falling from the sky without dying, the fiery entry was already broke every expectation they had set for today.

‘Holy shit, that is a lot of eyes,’ thought Quinn as he turned on his feet to look at the entire stadium, roaming his eyes over all the excited and exhilarated people sitting in the stands. This was the first time he had this many eyes on him.

‘Potato heads and nudes, was it?’ considered Quinn before scrapping the idea; it wasn’t his style.

“Most of you might know me from the AID services in Hogwarts — diligently helping people since 1991,” announced Quinn, his amplified voice reaching far and wide. “But those who don’t know me, I will introduce myself to you all: I’m Quinn West, a fifth-year student at Hogwarts — and today, on the exciting event of the Tri-wizard tournament’s first, I will be your host for the festivities — and let me assure you something, the things we will see today will be all but boring or dull. They will be as colorful as the smokeworks in the sky.”

From the corner of his eyes, Quinn noticed someone, and that cued him to continue speaking.

“Mr. Ludovic ‘Ludo’ Bagman,” said Quinn pointing at Bagman entering the judge’s box, “celebrated Quidditch athlete and the currently the decorated Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. I would like everyone to give him a big round of applause.”

Quinn’s words were heeded to the full without any prompting as the waves upon clapping serenaded the recently debt-free Ludo Bagman. The man had thought about silently entering the judge’s box and sit himself down without arousing any attention, much less suspicion. The sudden spotlight made him freeze at the sheer suddenness, and he could only wave his hand with a stiff smile on his face.

“Mr. Bagman was supposed to be your host today,” announced Quinn growing the audiences’ anticipation, “but then he graciously handed the role to me, a student. So, here I’m standing in front of you all, about to kick this event off.”

He deliberately kept out the part where he had paid Bagman’s debt and kept the goblins from coming after Bagman’s head, and Quinn didn’t know Bagman enough to give some credit.

The three headmasters/headmistress, Barty Crouch Sr., and the Hogwarts teachers looked at Bagman, wondering why he would pass on his hosting job to a student with varying feelings and judgmental thoughts.

Quinn was about to continue when a loud voice from the stands spoke before him. “Did you say dragons?!”

He turned towards the direction of the voice and beamed in answer, “Yes, Astoria, I did say dragons.” Her question and Quinn’s answer gathered many eyes on the young Astoria Greengrass, who flushed a faint red at the sudden attention.

“The theme of the Tri-wizard tournament’s first task is Dancing with Dragons,” continued Quinn, “our four brave champions will be going head-to-head with the mighty dragons in showdowns of their life.”

He raised his fake wand over his head, and a shimmering golden light projected out of the wand tip. In the air above him, golden light began to twist, turn, bend and shift into the shape of an ornate egg with beautiful runic patterns etched on the surface.

“This the goal of our champions,” all eyes gathered over the gently rotating egg, “a golden egg.”

The holographic golden egg shimmered once before it began shrinking down and, at the same time, descend down. By the time it reached the ground, the giant magical hologram had shrunk down to the size of an ostrich egg.

“But this golden egg is no ordinary. . . er, golden egg,” said Quinn getting him a round of chuckles. A graceful wave of his fake wand made standard dragon eggs around the golden egg, and now all rested inside a nest, “this golden egg will be placed in the nest of a mother dragon.”

“All dragons that you’ll see today are mother dragons who have laid eggs are currently in the incubation period.” He pointed at the golden egg, “Four such golden eggs were secretly placed among the mothers’ nests so that the mothers would treat it as their own egg. And with time through the great work of the dragon handlers from the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary, the golden egg is now treated as a real one.”

Then Quinn raised his arms wide, and his fake wand tip flashed a brief red.

What followed was a monstrosity with dark, rough scales, ridges along its back, and a tail tipped with an arrow-shaped spike faze out of the stony ground beneath Quinn’s feet. The holographic figure flapped its wild wings and flew up into the sky.

“Dance with the Dragons,” repeated Quinn as he moved away from the egg hologram. He stared at his illusion replication of a Hebridean Black dragon that circled the sky above the stadium.

“Four different breeds of dragons, one for each champion,” grinned Quinn, but none were looking at him. All eyes were fixed on the black dragon flying in the sky.

The dragon turned its brilliant purple eyes towards the nest of eggs, and immediately, with a mighty flap of its wings, it descended towards the ground at neck-breaking speeds, but just before it reached the base, it stopped itself with an all-powerful flap before letting go and landing on the stony ground with a loud thump.

The realistic dragon hologram crawled towards the egg nest with agility, not suiting a creature of its size, but not one person doubted that this wasn’t its actual speed.

“The mother dragon will protect its unborn children,” notified Quinn, and as he did that, the Hebridean Black raised its head towards Quinn, and the purple reptilian eyes glowed maliciously.

There were gasps and shouts of warning when they saw the dragon open its maw — inside, they saw a burning blue — what followed was a forceful jet of violet flames hurled towards Quinn. In an instant, amidst screams and cries, Quinn was engulfed in the roaring flames as the dragon mercilessly breathed fire.

The flaming jet lasted for a solid five seconds before it stopped, and many expected to see a burnt body of Quinn West, but as the fire cleared, he stood there unfazed.

They turned their eyes away from Quinn towards the dragon just to see its body gradually disappearing into golden floating glitter along with the egg nest. Those who had stood up sat down with a thump — the illusion had been so real that they, in the moment, had forgotten that the dragon wasn’t real and just a magical fabrication.

“Dragons can breathe fire, have great physical strength, and have a hide that is resistant to magic,” listed Quinn as he moved back to the centre, “today, our champions will face these creatures akin to the gladiators of the yore.”

He once again roamed his eyes over the stadium and declared,

“Let the games begin!”

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Quinn climbed into the judging panel and greeted everyone there with a smile.

“Mr. West, I wasn’t expecting another surprise from you today,” said Dumbledore with his patent smile on his face.

“Mr. Bagman was generous enough to bestow such an important task on to me, so when he offered, I accepted,” spoke Quinn, glancing at Bagman, who just smiled. “It was an excellent opportunity to see if I can make a career in the announcer business. I have got a pretty good handle on Quidditch commentary, and this seemed to be perfect for trying out some diversification.”

Flitwick and a few Hogwarts laughed, and even McGonagall had a smile on her face from Quinn’s words.

“It does seem to be an exciting career line, Mr. West,” chuckled Dumbledore, “if every show and event was like this, I’m sure you would be booked all year long.”

“That’s the dream, headmaster,” grinned Quinn.

“Mr. West, if you would start,” asked Barty Sr. from his chair.

“Of course, of course, let’s get the festivities started,” nodded Quinn and raised his fake wand; its tip glowed blue, and that was the signal as a dragon handler came into the arena with an egg nest levitating behind him. He placed it in the centre and nodded to Quinn before nodding towards a gate in the arena guarded by a barred-iron gate.

The moment the handler exited, the gate was pulled up, and from inside, came charging out a Swedish Short-Snout; the magical beast wildly whipped her head searching for her eggs to notice the nest nearby. Jets of blue flames issued out of her nostrils as she half-jumped, half-flew to her eggs, cradling them under her protection.

“The Swedish Short-Snout is an attractive silvery-blue dragon whose skin is sought after for the manufacture of protective gloves and shields. The flame that issues from its nostrils is a brilliant blue and can reduce timber and bone to ash in a matter of seconds. The Short-Snout has fewer human killings to its name than most dragons, though as it prefers to live in wild and uninhabited mountainous areas, this is not much to its credit.”

Quinn announced to the spectators before taking out a whistle from his pocket to blow in it, for it to emit a shrill sound.

A few seconds later, a green-looking Cedric Diggory entered the stony arena. The first champion was sweating, and even before, he had somewhat of a labored breath from the stressful thoughts.

“Give it up for the Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory,” said Quinn, “let’s see how our first champion struggles against the Swedish Short-Snout.”

. . .

In the arena, Cedric took out his wand and held it ready for defense. He didn’t know which of his movements could trigger the giant creature in front of him.

He looked around the arena and spotted loose rocks lying across the field. ‘Three. . . seven. . . fifteen,’ Cedric continued to count, ‘this many will be enough. . . at least I hope they are enough.’

Cedric then finally looked over at the dragon, and for a time that seemed to be an eternity and a single second, he took every feature of the dragon in. When he found that he was going to face a dragon, Cedric wasn’t thrilled about it, and even though Cedric was glad to obtain the information in advance, there wasn’t much he could do about it.

Through many sleepless nights, Cedric was able to come out with one strategy.

‘I need to distract it.’

Cedric took in a deep breath to calm himself, but his composure went back into nervousness when he saw the Short-Snout’s blue flames. ρꪖꪕᦔꪖꪕꪫꪣꫀ​ꪶ​

‘I can do it, I can do it.’ Cedric repeated in his mind before raising his wand and pointing it towards a rock distant from him. A faint cream spell-light zapped towards the rock, and with a crunching noise, the stone transformed into a bullmastiff dog.

The transfigured dog ran towards the dragon, barking loudly as it picked up speed. The dragon’s eyes locked onto the dog, and immediately, it got up and swiftly place itself between the nest and sprinting dog. Its maw with razer sharp canines opened up for a jet of blazing hot blue flames to assault the dog, blazing it into a pile of a burning pile of rocks.

“Yes, it worked,” muttered Cedric, clenching his fist at his success as the dragon sat down in the new spot — leaving the eggs uncovered.

With his newfound confidence, Cedric shot two more transfiguration spells towards free rocks for another two bullmastiffs to run towards the dragon, approaching it from the left, which made the dragon move another few steps away from the eggs.

From there on out, Cedric sent out dogs to make the dragon move in his preferred direction and then wait for a minute so that she would get comfortable in her new position.

‘Okay, this is enough,’ decided Cedric, and three jets of magic transformed rocks into dogs.

The moment the dragon moved to eliminate the dogs, Cedric rushed towards the nest. Mid-sprint, he shot transfiguration spells towards the dragon’s right to keep it busy using quantity. The decision turned out to be correct as just one touch from the flames turned the dogs back into burning stone.

Cedric slid beside the nest and picked the golden egg up. The second he made contact with the egg, six dragon handlers entered the arena. The task was to retrieve the egg, so the second the champions touched the egg, the task was deemed successful.

Cedric saw the dragon handles enter the arena and the sight, along with the fact that he had the golden egg in his hands, made him relax — that was a mistake.

He was playing by the rules, dragon handling was moving by the rules, the judges would give scored according to the rules . . . but the dragon wasn’t playing by the rules. The moment the mother got rid of all the dogs, she looked towards her eggs to see a human clutching one of them outside her nest.

Red took over as she flapped her wings and took flight towards Cedric; she aimed to cover the distance in one wing-aided leap.

“Back away, kid!” yelled a dragon handler, and three out of the six of the zapped curses towards the blue dragon, causing her to falter mid-flight.

However, the mother dragon was adamant about getting back her egg, so she leaped forward, pushing with her legs. The other three dragon handles were ready and shot spells towards the dragon, and she faltered once again, stumbling to the ground. Five out of the six dragon handlers swung their wands, and thick iron chains flew into the arena and started to wrap around the dragon.

Cedric, who had turned away to run, stopped when the dragon handlers subdued the dragon, and the sixth free handler walked to him to ensure his safety and status, and Cedric turned back to look at the chained dragon.

That was a mistake.

While the Short-Snout was bound in chains, her magic was still hers. She called upon it; the fire started to build up her throat as she held it in. She opened her jaw and shot a blue fireball towards Cedric.

Cedric and the sixth dragon handler watched as a rolling ball of fire singed towards the pair. The experienced dragon handler instinctively cast a shield from years of experience. He immediately started to back away from the fireball’s path because he knew his protection wasn’t powerful enough to handle the flames and could only buy him some time.

Cedric wasn’t privy to that dragon handler experience, and while the shield covered him, it was only partially.

“AaaaAh,” he screamed as tongues of blue flame scorched his body. Cedric dropped the egg due to the pain of one part of his body being burnt by dragon flames, charred by the intense heat.

The mother dragon wanted to shoot another fireball, but the dragon handlers weren’t going to let that happen as the chain roped around her maw, chaining it shut, and the built-up fire could only escape her nostril.

The dragon handler who had cast a shield didn’t bat an eye when he saw Cedric screaming in pain from being burned and swiftly conjured a stretcher, put Cedric on it, and levitated him away out of the arena.

. . .

After the arena was cleared, Quinn once again spoke up, “Now that was a great display of transfiguration and patience. Diggory used diversionary tactics to lead the dragon away, and he was entirely successful in his venture, though he let his guard down a bit too quickly.”

While concerned about Cedric, not a single person in the stadium looked worried and bothered by what had transpired. The magical kind had a different perception of what could be classified as a grave injury. A burn like Cedric’s, while fatal to a non-magical, was nothing in the magical society.

“Oh boy, that burn covered a lot of ground,” commented Quinn, “he will be seeing a lot of skin peel tomorrow. No need to be worried as our residential medi-healer, Madam Poppy Pomfrey, will have him good as new by the end of the day.”

He turned towards the panel and asked, “Judges, your scores for Mr. Diggory’s performance.”

The four judged used their wands to write in the air: “Okay, the combined scores comes to a total of thirty-one. Let’s see how the coming three perform to see how Mr. Diggory places.”

. . .

“Now, what do we have here,” Quinn’s joyful voice reached the ears of all as they looked into the arena, “A Common Welsh Green, another native to Britain Isles. Green scales, thick hindlegs, thin forelegs; slow on their feet, quick on their wings. Common Welsh Green is famous for being a relatively subdued breed and prefers to prey mainly on sheep and other small mammals and avoid human contact altogether. Though they stumble out to muggles quite often, and our Ministry spends a lot of money to keep the damage under wraps.”

Standing over a new nest of eggs, the Common Welsh green released a melodious roar to scare away everyone from her and her nest of eggs.

Quinn blew the whistle, and within seconds, Fleur Delacour walked into the clearing, “Ms. Delacour looks like she is ready to subdue the dragon; isn’t this the perfect representation of beauty and the beast, though I doubt the beauty will be falling in love with the beast.”

. . .

Like Cedric, who had come before her, Fleur observed the mother dragon before making any move. She wasn’t as anxious and worried as she had been inside the tent. Watching the lying dragon made her seem like a harmless creature, but the fact that the dragon could rip her apart in seconds was every present in the back of Fleur’s mind.

She glanced up at the judge’s panel and saw her headmistress smiling towards her.

‘I can do it,’ she thought, ‘I just have to do as I practiced.’

She raised her wand and pointed it at the dragon. Letting out her nervousness through an exhale and in sync with that exhale, a faint wisp emitted from her wand, and like sand flowing through the wind, the pink wisps traveled to the dragon, entering the mother’s body through her nostrils.

. . .

Back in the stands, Quinn analyzed the situation and gave the spectators his valuable commentary.

“Let’s talk about Ms. Delacour’s tactic for dealing with the dragon,” he started, “from what I can see, the magic that our only female champion is casting is a bewitched sleep spell — an interesting choice, to say the least.”

“Bewitched sleep is an enchanted slumber of sorts. It is used to refer to a condition wherein the target’s body and mind are brought into a state in which their nervous system remains relatively inactive, their eyes closed, the postural muscles relaxed, and consciousness practically suspended by magical means. So-called because of how reminiscent it is to the natural sleep that typically recurs for several hours every night, there are several ways in which this condition could be induced in people; such as by simple Sleeping Charms, which simply places those subjected to it into a magically induced slumber that will eventually wear off, a more advanced spell, putting the target into such a deep sleep as to render them in a state akin to suspended animation.

As they listened to Quinn, the spectators watched Fleur circled the area with careful steps; she still had her wand pointed at the dragon with the bewitching pink magic flowing into the dragon.

“Dragons parts are used to craft wands as such it’s difficult to affect dragons with such a variety of magic that Ms. Delacour is constantly casting the spell to make sure to put the dragon to sleep.”

Eventually, everyone saw the spell take effect.

“Ah, it seems that Ms. Delacour has successfully put her dragon to sleep,” announced Quinn, “I have to say that I’m feeling impressed by Ms. Delacour’s approach; putting the dragon to sleep, how simple and yet so effective.”

. . .

Down at the stony arena, Fleur immediately took off with a run towards the egg nest. She covered the distance quickly and only slowed at the ending stretch as she was too close to the dragon.

“Now, where is the egg?” she mumbled and trekked the rocky terrain around the slumbering dragon. “Ah, there it is!” she exclaimed on finding the nest egg just beside the dragon’s face.

She leaped down from a height and briskly walked towards the nest, but just as she strolled past the dragon’s face, abruptly, a puff of fire threatened Fleur, who barely was able to pull up a shield charm. In that second, Fleur went from feeling oh so close to success to outright terrified — she was too close to the dragon.

The smoke cleared and what Fleur and the rest saw was a still asleep dragon.

“. . . I-It’s snoring fire,” muttered Fleur in disbelief. Her beating heart settled down with a sense of relief.

She decided not to waste any time and soundlessly rushed to the nest and picked up the golden egg, and with that cue, dragon handlers entered the area, signifying Fleur’s successful completion of the trial.

Two out of four chapters were done, two remained.

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Quinn West – MC – After magic and business, he would’ve done hosting.

Cedric Diggory – Status: Severely burned – Approach: Distraction with Transfiguration.

Fleur Delacour – Status: No injuries (elevated heartbeat) – Approach: Advance sleeping spell.

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