Chapter 203

The process of announcing scores has never interested me. More important, I think, was the fact that Hermione didn't let go of my hand. In the end, while the scores were being announced, I wondered about the results of the first task.

For starters, I was able to absorb the dragon's soul. Or rather, I was able to do so with a sword. What did it give me? I have no idea. Second, I checked the work of transfiguration into a golem-like creature of various materials. The dragon flames could not damage the alloys due to insufficient temperature, and the magic component was safely blocked by Protego. Among other things, the low practical value of such skills against wizards became clear to me, at least in the hands of ordinary users, so to speak. A powerful Finita is capable of undoing transfiguration - that's undeniable. The range of wandless spells is extremely small for the average wizard, and that means a lot.

Transfiguring yourself into some kind of combat form has a number of vulnerabilities against wizards. You might get transfigured back, get pelted with all sorts of spells, and so on. The transfiguration into a form different in size and weight from the wizard's body dramatically increases the amount of magic you consume, which means that not everyone can do it, which means you need to process the spell into a ritual, and performing the ritual takes time. A lot of time. In general, even though Delphine got a master combatant with a similar project, such spells or ritual schemes are not widespread due to their narrow range of use, specifically against weak wizards, golems, or magical creatures. Well, or Muggles with their techniques.

"Max," Hermione literally pulled me out of my thoughts by pulling my hand slightly.

<Oh, funny boy,> Rowena's voice echoed in my head with a kind of doom. <I may not have personal experience, but based on your own knowledge and observations, I can say with certainty that something must already be done about it...about it."

"Yeah?"

"Score, Max."

Even though I was distracted from thinking about it, I was still following what was going on with the edge of my mind. I appreciated Hermione's reluctance to leave me despite the fact that only champions and school representatives, such as headmasters from Hogwarts or some responsible person from Charmbaton and Durmstrang, were invited to the announcement of scores.

"And what's there?"

"That leaves Fleur Delacour," Hermione whispered. "You, by the results, share first place with Harry. That one worked pretty clean, flying his broom and distracting the dragon. He got a little stoned when the dragon kicked the cobblestones nearby. Krum very accurately hit the dragon with some combat spell in the eye, similar to a blinding curse with a flesh curse and physical destruction of the eye bed. I read something like that. True, the dragon went berserk and crushed almost all the real eggs. He got his scores cut tangibly for that."

Though Hermione spoke in a whisper, the champions standing next to her could hear her clearly.

"Fleur made a gross mistake when she put the dragon to sleep. It almost cost her her life. Ah, here..."

Hermione shook her head in the direction of the scores the judges were magically visualizing. Fleur did indeed receive the lowest score, though the difference between champions was minimal, extremely insignificant. Each of the judges, in one way or another, lowered the scores of someone. For me, for example, Madame Maxim slightly lowered the score and greatly lowered - Karkarov. Krum's score was lowered by Bagman because if I killed one dragon, then Krum - five, because eggs, eggs!

Dumbledore didn't seem any saddened by the death of the Horntail, though he gave me a nine, despite the brilliant execution of the spell and the quick execution of the task. I bet it was for the kill since it was entirely optional.

After the scores were awarded, we champions were asked to enter our tent. Now it was clearly easier to be here. There is no that atmosphere of painful expectation. Already relieved, Krum, Fleur, and Harry were standing or sitting on the bench, hugging their eggs.

"Well done, all of you!" a happy Ludo Bagman stormed into the tent, almost glaring. "I want to briefly outline the future plans. The second task is almost three months away. It will take place on February twenty-fourth at nine-thirty in the morning. But in that time you'll have a lot to think about. Look at the golden eggs in your hands. You see, they open... here are the hinges. Inside the egg is the key to the second task. It will help you get ready. Is that clear? Are you sure? Then go get some rest!"