0552 Wand-weighing Ceremony

Bryan lowered his gaze, his mind racing as he quietly pondered the implications of Ollivander's words. He could roughly understand what Ollivander meant.

The more Bryan considered it, the more he came to realize that Harry was, in every sense, the perfect opponent chosen by fate for Voldemort. Their souls were intertwined, bound together by the twin wands they wielded, each housing at its core a feather from the tail of Fawkes.

And if Voldemort did indeed choose to use Harry's blood in the dark ritual that would restore him to physical form, it would forge yet another link between them, another layer of connection to add to those that already existed.

These three ties—the link between their souls, the bond of their wands, the mingling of their blood—each represented a form of powerful magical protection in its own right. Bryan tried to imagine himself in Voldemort's position, and he couldn't help but shudder at the thought of trying to overcome such defenses.

Bryan glanced sneakily at Dumbledore, trying to gauge his reaction to Ollivander's words, but his expression remained inscrutable, revealing not even a hint of his inner thoughts.

Bryan felt a sudden surge of admiration for the man.

To an outside observer, the situation might have appeared dire, with the Dark Lord biding his time in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to plot his return. But Dumbledore had already mapped out the path to Voldemort's ultimate defeat. Perhaps the only remaining obstacle in Voldemort's demise were his Horcruxes.

In theory, Dumbledore's plan was comprehensive, perhaps a masterstroke that would checkmate the Dark Lord and put an end to his reign of terror once and for all.

And indeed, in theory, that's how it was, but unexpected events always occurred, right? Just like this time, he and Dumbledore had already gained the upper hand, but the result was still an unexpected situation.

Because of his appearance, the originally predetermined 'destiny' of this world had diverged. It seemed that he had perfectly dealt with most of the crises, but in reality, those invisible dangers were lurking in the dark. Bryan had a feeling... no, it could almost be determined that on a certain day in the future, these accumulated crises would completely explode. At that time, the situation would likely become uncontrollable!

Dumbledore, for his part, seemed content to take a back seat for the time being, to let others handle the day-to-day affairs of the school and the tournament. He had already delegated most of his responsibilities to Professor McGonagall, entrusting her with the smooth operation of Hogwarts itself, while Bryan had to serve as the school's public face, its representative in all dealings with the outside world.

"Shall we, Mr. Ollivander?" Bryan said at last, rising from his seat and gesturing for him to follow. "I believe it's time we met our champions and got this wand inspection underway."

The room set aside for the ceremonial examination of the champions' wands was located on the second floor of the castle, a spacious classroom that had been specially prepared for the occasion. It would serve not only as the site of the inspection itself, but also as a venue for the champions to make their first official appearance Infront of the gathered representatives of the wizarding press.

Bryan had been flooded with requests for interviews and exclusive access to the tournament participants, but he had thus far managed to keep the media at bay, determined to shield the young champions from the spotlight for as long as possible. He knew all too well the kind of pressure that came with being thrust into the public eye, and he had no desire to subject the champions to that particular ordeal any sooner than absolutely necessary.

But now, with the first task looming on the horizon, the time had come to give the champions a small taste of the scrutiny that awaited them. It was crucial that they begin to develop a sense of the stakes involved, to understand the weight of the expectations that had been placed upon their young shoulders.

A long corridor on the second floor resounded with a buzzing roar, as if thousands of bees were flapping their wings. When descending the stairs, Bryan found that Filch, who was ordered by him to maintain order, had been squeezed out of the classroom door arranged for reception. He was struggling to squeeze into the classroom while letting out desperate shouts.

"Well, well," Ollivander chuckled, seeming not the least bit disturbed by the chaotic scene that awaited them. "It seems we have quite the lively gathering on our hands. I must say, it's been many years since I've seen such enthusiasm for a simple wand inspection."

"Let me handle it—" Bryan arrived behind Filch, patted his shoulder, and took out his wand. Standing in the corridor, he pointed it at the classroom. After a series of complex spells, the space suddenly became hazy for a moment. Then, the reporters in the classroom felt a dizzying sensation. When they came back to their senses, they were amazed to find that the space in the classroom had changed greatly, becoming as large as the Great Hall below.

"Well, that's more like it!" one of the photographers grumbled, rubbing at a foot that had been trampled on in the earlier crush. "Wish someone had thought to do that from the start!"

But then, as if by some unspoken signal, all eyes turned to the doorway, where Bryan now stood against the light spilling in from the corridor beyond. For a moment, a hush fell over the room as every gaze locked onto him.

And then, just as quickly as it had descended, that silence was shattered by an eruption of noise that seemed to shake the walls of the castle, a roar of sound that was somehow even more deafening than the clamor that had come before it.

"You promised me an exclusive interview, Watson!" Rita Skeeter was the first to shout. She stood on tiptoe among a large group of colleagues, screaming shrilly. Her oddly stiff wavy hair had already become a mess, and her bejeweled eyes had many fingerprints on them for some reason.

"You're the only one the Daily Prophet sent, aren't you?" Even though the classroom was noisy, Bryan still managed to make his voice reach Rita's ears precisely.

Dozens of camera flashes went off simultaneously in front of Bryan, and many people were talking to him.

"Mr. Watson!" one of them yelled, a wizard with a distinct American accent. "The tournament committee just announced that Hogwarts as the host school is going to be allowed two champions this go around! Any truth to the rumors that you pulled some strings to give your school a little home field advantage?"

"Talk about your views on the four champions, Mr. Watson!" A goblin jumped onto the top of a pile of desks on one side of the classroom, frantically waving his arms at Bryan. "Who do you think is most likely to win?"

"WWN announced that they would use special means to broadcast the Triwizard Tournament events simultaneously in multiple countries all across Europe. Goblins have been renting multiple Muggle sports venues and selling tickets, and preliminary investigations involve a huge amount of money. They all claimed to have permission from the tournament organizers, but there's been some nasty rumors floating around about kickbacks and backroom deals! Care to comment, Professor Watson?"

Each of the more than 100 reporters in the classroom were asking questions, some of them were quite sharp. But Bryan seemed to take no notice of the barrage of questions, his smile never wavering as he made his way across the room towards the small group of champions and their respective headmasters. On his way forward, the excited reporters parted like butter cut by a hot knife. No one dared to block his path.

Finally, Bryan saw the champions surrounded by people. Judging from their expressions, they seemed to be quite frightened by the scene.

Viktor and Fleur had both dealt with the public before, but they looked helpless at the moment, not knowing how to face the excited interviewers. Fortunately, Madame Maxime and Professor Karkaroff were here, so they were not too nervous.

But it was the Hogwarts champions who truly looked out of their depth, their faces were pale and strained as they stared out at the sea of eager faces that surrounded them. Cedric and Hermione looked for all the world like a pair of frightened rabbits caught in the jaws of a pack of hungry wolves.

"You've arrived not a moment too soon, Monsieur Watson," Madame Maxime said stiffly, her voice tight with barely suppressed anger.

"Indeed," Karkaroff added acidly, plucking at a large hole in the sleeve of his silver furred robe. "We are truly fortunate to have such a shining example of Hogwarts' organizational prowess on display for all the world to see."

"My deepest apologies," Bryan replied, his smile taking on a faintly rueful tone. "Indeed, someone suggested to me to arrange this meeting on a day off, so the professors would have time to help maintain order. But I thought if we arranged it that way, it might cause even more chaos. You know, the young wizards in this school have a strong curiosity."

Bryan looked at Cedric and Hermione, giving them a reassuring look, which finally allowed the two terrified young wizards to relax their shoulders that had been tense for a long time.

"Well then!" Ludo Bagman squeezed out from somewhere, panting and dizzy, looking like he had just been bombarded by reporters. "What's next on the agenda, Bryan?"

Bryan looked around and didn't see Barty Crouch, which was expected.

"Before we introduce our champions to the world," he said, pitching his voice to carry throughout the room, "we have a bit of traditional ceremony to attend to. It's time to inspect the tools these brave young souls will be relying on as they face the challenges ahead—the wands that will be their constant companions throughout the coming trials."

Hermione noticed that Professor Watson didn't do anything special, but after he started speaking, the place suddenly became orderly, completely unlike the previous chaos. She didn't even remember how she entered this classroom. It seemed that as soon as she appeared at the door, she was carried in by countless hands.

The wand-weighing itself was an almost perfunctory affair, a bit of empty ceremony that seemed more for the benefit of the gathered media than anything else. One by one, the champions stepped forward to present their wands for inspection, Ollivander examined each in turn.

A few muttered incantations, a shower of sparks here and there, and it was done. As rituals went, it was hardly the most thrilling thing Hermione had ever witnessed.

Slightly more interesting was the next order of business—the taking of the champions' measurements by the proprietor of Gladrags Wizardwear, who had been contracted to provide their official tournament robes. He took the champions' measurements in a small room conjured out of thin air by Bryan Watson.

Fleur gave Bryan a resentful glare but ultimately didn't raise any objections under the watchful eyes of everyone.

In all, the whole process took perhaps half an hour, with the champions standing stiffly as they were poked and prodded and measured. At long last, Bryan called an end to the spectacle, inviting the champions and their respective headmasters to take their seats at a long table that had been set up at the front of the room.

"And now," Bryan said with a smile, "I believe we're ready to field a few of the questions that have been burning in the minds of witches and wizards across the globe. But do be mindful of the time, ladies and gentlemen. We wouldn't want to keep our champions away from their studies for too long, now would we?"

"Mr. Watson!" As if time had resumed, the enlarged classroom immediately became noisy. The pressure brought by the eager reporters made even the headmasters of the other two schools feel suffocated, let alone the immature champions.

Many people were asking questions, but Bryan still picked out Rita Skeeter. After all, they had some history, although it was hard to say whether it was good or bad.

"Ms. Skeeter," he said, nodding to Rita whose hand had shot up like a student eager to impress a favorite teacher. "I believe you had a question for us?"

"Rumor has it that among the two Hogwarts champions this time, one was selected through means that did not comply with the rules!" Rita looked sharply at Hermione, and her sharp question made Hermione's face turn pale, her body stiff as if she had been hit by a Petrification Curse. "To cover up the scandal, the tournament organizers temporarily modified the rules, allowing Hogwarts to have two champions. Would you care to comment on these allegations, Professor Watson?"

This question, which made Hermione's heart tremble, did not shake the gentle smile on Bryan's face.

"I'm afraid Ms. Skeeter has been misinformed," Bryan said smoothly, his voice carrying across the room with clarity. "The truth of the matter is far less sensational than the striking imaginings of the rumor mill."

He paused for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, and then continued. "As many of you may recall, this is the first Triwizard Tournament to include an age restriction for potential champions. In years past, any student was eligible to compete, regardless of their age. But out of caution, and a desire to ensure the safety of all participants, the organizers of this year's tournament found it appropriate to limit the champions to only those students who are of age."

After another pause, Bryan continued. "Needless to say, this decision was not universally popular among the students of the three schools. Many underage students felt that they were being unfairly excluded, that their skills and abilities were being overlooked simply because of an arbitrary age limit. And so, in the spirit of fairness and inclusivity, the Hogwarts administration decided to conduct a bit of an experiment."

He gestured to Hermione then, and she felt the weight of every eye in the room settle upon her. "Miss Granger here was one of a select group of outstanding students chosen to participate in this trial run. Their names were submitted to the Goblet of Fire alongside those of their older peers, as a way of testing the feasibility of expanding the champions in future tournaments.

And as you can see, the Goblet found Miss Granger worthy of representing her school on the grandest stage our world has to offer. She will compete on behalf of not just Hogwarts, but of every underage witch and wizard who has ever dreamed of testing their mettle in this competition."

'It was a lie. A complete and utter fabrication, spun out of whole cloth with nary a shred of truth to it.'

Hermione could hardly believe the ease with which the words flowed from Professor Watson's lips, the sheer audacity of the tale he had concocted on the spot. How could he stand there, bold as brass, and spout such blatant lies in front of so many witnesses? 

If Bryan knew Hermione's thoughts, he might smile and say to her, "You're too naive—"

The truth always spreads only in a very small circle. Even if all Hogwarts students could tell that something was wrong, it was still a minority. For the tens of thousands of magical folks in the vast European Wizarding world, they just wanted to watch the excitement. They would even hope that the Triwizard Tournament would produce as many champions as possible. As for the reason behind this incident, a logically sound explanation was enough for them.

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