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Chapter 517: Scripted to Perfection
Chapter 517: Scripted to Perfection
After spending some time in the changing room, Kyle and his companions returned to the stands.
Professor McGonagall had arranged for them to sit in the stands next to the judges' panel.
"You'll have to wait a little longer..." she said, "until all the champions have emerged before the scoring begins."
Kyle nodded in understanding.
Once Professor McGonagall had left, he settled in to watch the tournament as an ordinary spectator.
It felt rather nice.
Out on the field, Krum and Fleur had already reached the third challenge.
However, as he watched, Kyle suddenly realized that he had inadvertently increased the difficulty of the task.
Since he had passed the third challenge ahead of time, Krum and Fleur now had to face off against two fire-breathing dragons.
In other words, the simplest method of luring one dragon away and having the other person grab the stone was no longer viable. They would now have to directly confront the dragons to succeed.
The issue was that after navigating the first two challenges, their stamina had already depleted significantly. Fleur's face was pale as she breathed heavily, and Krum, though he held a fire crossbow, had a bleeding arm.
To be honest, this turn of events was somewhat unexpected for Kyle. He had assumed that the pair would have conserved more energy, considering they only had to tackle one challenge in the traditional sense.
"Well done, lad," came a hoarse voice from behind.
Kyle turned to see Professor Moody.
The man looked pleased, his magical eye twitching in its socket.
"That Blasting Curse you used was both decisive and impressive... It would've been even better if you'd used it in the first task, as those Firebolt brooms are much slower than the Swedish Short-Snouts."
He continued, offering a critique of Kyle's performance: "And the third task truly surprised me—bold, decisive, and confident... If you ever wish to join the Aurors, I'd be happy to put in a good word for you with the Auror Office based on this performance alone."
"How about it, lad? Are you interested?"
"Thank you, Professor," Kyle replied, "but I'm still a student. Let's talk about this again after I graduate."
He was well aware that his bold and decisive actions were all part of the script—pre-planned and rehearsed.
However, the act seemed to be working, as even Professor Moody with his magical eye hadn't seen through it. Surely, no one else would be able to, except perhaps Dumbledore, but that wouldn't matter much.
Seeming to sense Kyle's refusal, Professor Moody nodded and didn't press the issue further.
Kyle turned back to watch the rest of the tournament.
"Oh, so close... Be careful... My word, I thought she had it then."
"That was too dangerous. Oof... That was a close call for Krum."
...
About ten minutes later, the spectators once again erupted into cheers and applause.
After all, these were the best students from the two schools, and with prior knowledge of the dragons, they were unlikely to be stumped.
Fleur used a peculiar type of sleep magic to lull her dragon into a drowsy state. Kyle felt that this move would be quite desirable to dragon handlers, as it usually took five or six people casting the Stunning Spell simultaneously to put a Hungarian Horntail to sleep.
As for Krum, he opted for a strategy similar to Kyle's, luring the dragon away before turning to grab the stone.
However, he chose the wrong moment to strike, and as he reached for the stone, the dragon's tail whipped out and sent him flying. When he finally emerged, he could barely stand, and had to be carried to Madam Pomfrey by others.
But ten minutes later, he returned, looking much more haggard but at least able to walk.
"Now do you believe me, Karkaroff?" said Dumbledore. "Our Madam Pomfrey will surely return your champion to you fit as a fiddle."
The tension finally left Karkaroff's face... Though Krum's current state was far from "fit as a fiddle," it was still much better than before.
Everyone immediately turned their attention to the judges.
"A maximum of ten points each," Bagman said, "starting with Fleur Delacour. Alright, I'll go first..."
He raised his wand, and a long, silver ribbon-like substance shot out of it.
"Seven points!"
Next was Chris, who also gave seven points.
"Probably because she lost points in the second task," Cedric whispered. "She didn't perform that well back then."
Dumbledore then gave eight points... followed by a nine from Madam Maxime.
When it was Karkaroff's turn...
"What?!" George exclaimed in disbelief. "Two points? That's way too low, especially since she completed all the tasks."
However, Bagman seemed not to hear his protest.
Next was Viktor Krum...
Bagman and Karkaroff both gave perfect tens, putting him significantly ahead of Fleur.
As for Madam Maxime, she couldn't bring herself to be as generous as Karkaroff and gave a five.
Finally, it was Kyle's turn.
"Ah, there's no question about this one," Bagman smiled and raised his wand, "ten points, without a doubt!"
Chris also smiled as he gave the same score.
As if they had planned it, all four judges gave identical scores—a perfect ten.
Karkaroff was the last to give his score, and he hesitated for a long while, seemingly recalling every possible mistake Kyle might have made.
Finally, he raised his wand and a number appeared... nine.
"What?!" Before Kyle could react, Fred angrily shouted, "Nine points?! You biased jerk, you don't deserve to be a judge..."
"You gave Krum a ten," George chimed in angrily. "Was his performance really better than Kyle's?"
The others also voiced their outrage... To be honest, while it wasn't a perfect score, nine points was still quite high and acceptable.
But the problem was that he had just given Krum a ten.
Anyone with a bit of intelligence and common sense could see that Kyle's performance in the three tasks was far superior to Krum's... yet he received a lower score.
This stark contrast made it hard for them to accept the result... Was there really no shame in being so blatantly biased?
However, Karkaroff completely ignored the outcry, not even turning his head, as if he hadn't heard a thing.
"Hey, that's enough!"
At that moment, something that looked like a crumpled piece of parchment flew out from the dense crowd, aimed directly at Karkaroff's head.
"Throwing paper balls... how childish."
Karkaroff disdainfully raised his hand to swat it away.
But the moment his hand touched the paper ball, it exploded... A gray-black liquid with a strong odor splattered all over Karkaroff's face.
Karkaroff froze, his face turning from blue to purple, and then to a ghastly pale.
Ugh...
The stench was overwhelming, and he had almost fainted from the brief contact.
Everyone around, including Dumbledore and Madam Maxime, instinctively backed away... Some used Scouring Charms, others Wind Spells, and those closest covered their noses, each doing what they could to ward off the putrid smell.
Seeing this, Karkaroff's expression turned even uglier.
Not because no one came to his aid, but because he had just realized that some of the foul liquid had splashed into his mouth.
(End of Chapter)
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