Chapter 360: What Makes a Champion
Chapter 360: What Makes a Champion
Felix, Flitwick, Sprout, Snape, and Mad-Eye Moody stood together. Moody leaned on a long cane, speaking loudly to Flitwick.
"It's a shame Minerva couldn't make it. We're only missing one of the Heads of House", Flitwick said.
"There's no need, Professor Flitwick", Moody's gruff voice replied. "We've already discussed everything. We're just here for the show. I want to see how the students perform..."
"Minerva is chairing the meeting. Lupin came by this morning, along with representatives from the school board. It's important for the school to have someone significant present", Felix explained succinctly.
"Is it the magic lamp?" Moody asked, his magical eye swiveling toward Felix. "I've heard of Future World Company. The Daily Prophet interviewed almost everyone in Diagon Alley about their thoughts on the sudden appearance of that building."
"Yeah, I saw it too. And there was the light show at the Quidditch World Cup, but it seems the unexpected parade stole the spotlight. I wonder if it had any impact", Sprout added.
"Actually, it's not a big issue. Remus even complained to me about having too many orders to handle. He had to hire more people urgently", Felix said with a smile, clearly pleased with the company's progress.
The professors chatted among themselves, but Snape stood silently off to the side, looking more withdrawn than usual. He wore his black robes and kept his arms crossed, remaining distant from the group.
At ten in the morning, a large crowd gathered, with some students sitting on the hillside, spreading out blankets and taking out various snacks, as if they were on a picnic, leisurely observing their surroundings.
Felix looked at the professors. "It's about time. Shall we—"
"We're here for the show", Flitwick said in a high-pitched voice. "Dumbledore assigned you to oversee the Champions' training. Your Pensieve is the best tool for this. I can't wait to leave my own memories, though I can't match Dumbledore's. I plan to leave the memory of the year I won the Dueling Championship..."
In the staff room, Professor Mcgonagall had organized several meetings to discuss the selection and training of the Champion candidates. To legitimize Dumbledore's assignment of Felix, Mcgonagall used the Pensieve to convince the other professors, though she only briefly explained its purpose, remembering the Headmaster's caution. Later, Flitwick approached Felix, asking for details and generously agreeing to provide a memory.
Apart from Dumbledore, Mcgonagall, Flitwick, and Felix himself, the other professors did not do the same. This indicated that they valued their memories highly, and Dumbledore's concerns were not unfounded. He did not want to make it a mandatory practice.
Felix bowed slightly, stepped forward, and pointed his wand at himself. His voice carried far and wide, as if speaking directly into each student's ear, making sure everyone could hear clearly.
"You've seen the notice on the bulletin board. Today, we are not selecting the Champions—that's the Goblet of Fire's job. Instead, we are looking for a group of students with potential to undergo special training. The final Champions are likely to emerge from this group. Even if they don't, they will serve as student representatives to welcome the faculty and students from the four participating schools and attend the exchange activities."
Felix casually twirled his wand. "So, what makes a student have potential, or what qualifies as a Champion?"
"The Sorting Hat can place students into one of the four houses based on their most prominent traits. You might think it would be great if there were a 'Champion Hat'..."
The students below chuckled softly.
"Or you might think I'll choose the most powerful students. That would mean making you fight each other, or at least show off your best magic. But I must remind you that the Triwizard Tournament is a long and grueling event, which means that late bloomers can catch up, and early leaders can falter.
Strength is not the only criterion. Otherwise, today's selection would be meaningless."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged glances. On their way, they had speculated whether they would be competing to see who had the strongest spells, but they realized this couldn't be the only standard. Harry excelled at the Disarming Charm, but even he knew the professors wouldn't base their decision on just one factor.
But Professor Felix's words were quite different from what they had expected, seeming to completely disregard their abilities, which left Harry somewhat disappointed.
"… After reviewing a vast amount of material, we professors have analyzed past tournaments and drawn some conclusions. One of these conclusions I can share with you is that Champions often face the most challenging obstacles, even those far beyond their capabilities. In such situations, minor differences in strength aren't as significant."
"The strongest don't always win. You will find that many invisible barriers stand in your way to victory… So, I propose a small suggestion, starting from the very definition of a Champion." Felix paused, his eyes flashing sharply. "We are back to the original question: what truly makes a Champion?"
He took a few steps forward, casting an imposing gaze over the crowd. When Felix asked this question again, the students felt a heavy weight in their hearts.
"Champions do not represent individuals or specific houses, but a unified title given by outsiders—Hogwarts students. During the summer, I visited Egypt and met a local witch. I didn't ask which house she came from because, to me, she is simply a Wizard of Wagadu."
The young Wizards' expressions involuntarily turned serious, straightening their postures. A first-year who had been about to eat a candy paused, looking around before putting it down. Luna clapped her hands and shook her Champion Hat vigorously.
"Since Champions represent Hogwarts in competition, striving for honor, I believe they should possess some common traits—"
"Brave and fearless, with remarkable courage;"
"Knowledgeable and wise, with sharp intellect;"
"Honest and loyal, with unwavering integrity;"
"Determined and calm, with a clear focus."
Felix chuckled lightly. "Of course, the above are just beautiful aspirations. If we can embody even one or two of these qualities, we are already fortunate." Unconsciously, a suspicious black mist had formed in his hand.
He pointed his wand at the mist, making it rise gently, like a black lantern. When it reached the ceiling, the black mist suddenly plummeted, trailing a long trail of smoke, and crashed to the ground, spreading out. The young Wizards quickly moved away, but the black mist didn't spread indefinitely. It stopped expanding after reaching about ten feet, twisting and forming a large, partially visible gate suspended in the air, about six or seven feet off the ground, enveloped in black mist.
At the base of the black gate, seven steps extended, each as smooth as a black mirror, leading down to the ground.
"Walk in, come out, and retrieve the invitation card, and you will be selected", Felix said calmly. He looked at Mad-Eye Moody, who was leaning on a cane, and the other professors, smiling. "Let's leave this to the students. We can have a cup of tea and discuss the subsequent training."
They had no objections. They had come together to show the school's importance. The selection criteria had already been determined in previous discussions, which was why Professor Mcgonagall had not appeared, dealing with more pressing matters.
They took a few steps, and Felix stopped, thoughtful. "By the way, I seem to have forgotten to add an age restriction. Students from other years don't need to—"
"No need for that trouble, Professor Sprout", Moody rasped, gripping his cane tightly. "The more you forbid, the more people will try. That's what I've learned this week!"
His magical eye rotated, retracting into his socket, and he raised his thumb to point behind him. The Weasley Twins were peering curiously at the black gate, only a few steps away, with one of them seemingly about to touch the steps.
The other Weasley noticed the professors turning around and quickly pulled him back, both of them flashing identical smiles.
"You want to test the students' character, and that's a good move. But instead of imposing restrictions that will make them resentful, let them all try. They will realize their own capabilities."
He rapped his cane forcefully, speaking sternly. "Not everyone can become a Champion."
Felix looked at Moody, his gaze lingering slightly. "You're right, Professor Moody."
They left together, and the students watched the professors open the door to Classroom Seven and walk out, the door closing with a thud.
After a few seconds of silence, the students burst into a flurry of excitement, their eyes fixed on the black gate suspended in the air, enveloped in black mist. The seven smooth, black steps seemed to have a strange allure, capturing their full attention.
"Swallow!"
Harry swallowed hard.
(End of Chapter)
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