Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

Chapter 324 First Project

Prince Philip looked at Dumbledore, as if trying to discern whether he was joking or serious.

Dumbledore's expression was calm, but there was a hint of a smile in his eyes—this old man was always like that, making it hard to tell when he was telling the truth and when he was just teasing you.

"Are you kidding me?" Prince Philip was starting to lose his composure.

"Half and half," said Dumbledore.

The two people crossed the lawn and walked up to the stands on the hill.

Prince Philip sat down in the VIP section, a very good position with a commanding view of almost the entire stadium.

The field was an open grassy area with a rope cordon around a square area about fifty meters in size.

Several huge wooden stakes were placed in the area, and a dragon was tied to each stake.

There are four dragons in total, each occupying a corner, with a distance between them.

The Hungarian wood bee is located in the northeast corner. It is dark green all over, with sharp black spines covering its back. Its tail swings powerfully like a spear, and with each swing, a "whoosh" sound is heard in the air.

The Welsh Green Dragon is located in the northwest corner. Its scales are a beautiful green that shimmers softly in the morning light. It is smaller than the Hungarian Tree Bee and looks gentler.

The Swedish short-nosed dragon is located in the southeast corner. Its scales are silver-gray, it has a short blue horn on its nose, and it constantly spews out tiny blue flames from its mouth, as if its breath contains sparks.

The Chinese Fireball Dragon is located in the southwest corner. Its scales are bright red with a golden edge, making it particularly eye-catching in the morning light, like a burning flame frozen into the shape of a dragon.

Prince Philip looked at the four dragons, remained silent for a moment, and then turned to Dumbledore.

"Where did these dragons come from?"

"It was borrowed from nature reserves in Romania and Scotland," Dumbledore said. "We started preparing for it several months ago."

"Can you borrow four dragons?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore, "provided the money is right."

Prince Philip chuckled at the reply: "Why do you talk like my wife?"

"Her Majesty the Queen is also a pragmatic person," Dumbledore said with a smile.

A cockatoo imprisoned in Nurmengard: Alert.

Prince Philip sat in the VIP section, flanked by Dumbledore and Madam Maxim.

Karkarov sat on the other side, his expression tense, his gaze constantly scanning back and forth between the four dragons on the field.

"Your Highness," Draco leaned closer and asked, "is that the Chinese Fireball Dragon?"

"It should be," Henry said. "Its scales are red with gold edges, which matches the description in the book."

"It looks a bit smaller than a Hungarian wood bee."

"But when it breathes fire, it's a spherical flame," Pansy said. "It's explosive, and its destructive range is much greater than that of the Hungarian wood bee."

Draco glanced at Pansy but said nothing.

Mr. Bagman stood on a high platform in the center of the arena and used an amplification spell, his voice clear and loud in the morning light: "Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the first event of the Triwizard Tournament—the Dragon!"

A burst of applause and cheers erupted from the stands. Startled by the sound, the four dragons simultaneously raised their heads, glanced in the direction of the stands, and then lowered their heads again, as if assessing whether these people were worthy of their attention.

Prince Philip straightened up slightly in the stands. He had seen many things in his life—warships, airplanes, dignitaries from various countries—but this was the first time he had ever seen four fire dragons appear in front of him at the same time.

Mr. Bagman's voice continued to echo: "The first task is simple—each warrior must take a golden egg from their own dragon. The dragon will place the golden egg on the ground beside it, and the warriors must take the egg without being harmed by the dragon."

"The first warrior to take the court—French Delacour from Beauxbatons!"

A round of applause erupted from the stands, and the students of Beauxbatons stood up and cheered loudly, their light blue silk robes resembling a lake rippling in the morning light.

Hibiscus emerged from the entrance of the arena, wearing a form-fitting silver robe. Her steps were unhurried, as if she were walking on a red carpet rather than in a dragon's arena.

She walked towards the Chinese fireball dragon, which was squatting on the ground in the southwest corner, with a golden egg beside it.

Furong walked very slowly, calculating the distance with each step, her eyes never leaving the eyes of the Chinese Fireball Dragon.

She stopped, raised her wand, and uttered a spell in a soft yet firm voice.

A soft silver light shot from the tip of her wand, enveloping the head of the Chinese Fireball Dragon.

The dragon's pupils began to dilate, its eyelids drooped heavily, and its massive head swayed slightly—as if resisting, or as if being dragged into sleep.

Furong took another step forward, but the dragon did not react.

She took another step, and the dragon's head drooped even lower, emitting a low, snoring sound from its throat.

Furong quickened her pace and headed towards the golden egg.

Just then, the Chinese Fireball Dragon let out a loud snore.

The snoring was accompanied by a burst of blazing flame that shot out of its nostrils, the trajectory of which just grazed the hem of Hibiscus's skirt and the edge of her silver robe, igniting it. The flames quickly spread upwards.

Furong exclaimed in surprise and quickly patted her robe, but she did not stop.

She bent down, grabbed the golden egg, and turned to run back, swatting out the flames on her skirt as she ran.

A chorus of applause and gasps erupted from the stands; some of the Beauxbatons students covered their mouths, while others shouted her name.

Prince Philip shifted slightly to the side in the VIP section, as if avoiding something.

He turned to Dumbledore: "Her dress is on fire."

"It's out," Dumbledore said. "I must say, she handled it very quickly."

"She's incredibly brave," Prince Philip said. "I admire her for being able to keep running even when she's on fire."

""

Well, you probably admire her for being pretty.

"Miss Delacour took four minutes!" Mr. Bagman's voice rang out again. "Alright, good girl, you can go back and rest now. As for the scoring—we'll have to wait until the last warrior comes out!"

"She used sleep magic," Theodore said softly, but Henry could hear him clearly. "The spell put the dragon into a semi-sleep state. But the dragon's fire-breathing while snoring is an uncontrollable factor."

1

"It works, but it's not perfect," Henry said. "It's like—"

He didn't finish speaking because the next warrior had already entered the game.

"The second warrior to enter the arena—Viktor Krum from Durmstrang!"

The cheers from the stands were even louder than before—not just from Durmstrang students, but also from many Hogwarts students. After all, he was an internationally renowned Quidditch star; his name alone was enough to excite people.

Krum emerged from the arena entrance, his steps quick, wand in hand, tip pointing straight ahead. He walked toward the Welsh green dragon in the northwest corner, its green scales shimmering softly in the morning light.

Krum stopped about twenty paces from the dragon, and without hesitation, quickly raised his wand and cast a spell precisely.

A beam of light struck the Welsh green dragon's eye.

The dragon let out a deafening roar and violently shook its head, as if something had pierced its eye.

It spun around in agony, its tail whipping wildly across the ground, kicking up dust and pebbles. The dragon's claws crushed several real eggs scattered on the ground, sending golden fragments flying.

Taking advantage of the dragon's momentary confusion, Krum rushed forward, bent down to pick up the golden egg, and then quickly retreated.

Upon witnessing this, Prince Philip frowned and asked, "He hit the dragon's eye?"

"It's the Eye Curse," Dumbledore said. "It attacks the dragon's most vulnerable spot—its eyes. This strategy is very effective, but the cost is that the dragon's behavior in pain is unpredictable."

"So the dragon crushed its own egg," Prince Philip said.

"Yes."

"Will he get points deducted for this?"

"Probably," Dumbledore said, "because those eggs are part of the playing field."

Sure enough, Mr. Bagman's voice rang out: "Krum took six minutes! Alright, next one—"

The Durmstrang students began to applaud. Although they had lost points, their warriors had successfully obtained the golden egg, which was the most important thing.

Prince Philip glanced at Dumbledore: "The girl just now used magic to put the dragon to sleep; although her dress was burned, the dragon wasn't harmed. This boy directly struck the dragon's eye; although he succeeded, he destroyed the dragon egg. Professor Dumbledore, which do you admire more?"

Dumbledore picked up his cup of tea: "I appreciate a method that doesn't harm the dragon to get the golden egg. But I also understand that winning is the primary goal in a game."

"You didn't answer my question," Prince Philip said.

Dumbledore smiled. "I appreciate that neither is perfect, but both have their merits. That's the charm of the Triwizard Tournament—no one is perfect, and everyone solves problems in their own way."

Cedric is next on the court.

As he walked toward the Swedish short-nosed dragon, deafening cheers erupted from the stands from the Hogwarts students; almost all the Hufflepuff students stood up.

Cedric stood at the entrance to the arena, took a deep breath, and walked toward the silver-grey dragon. He stopped about twenty-five paces away from the dragon, raised his wand, and cast a transmutation spell on a stone on the ground.

The stone rapidly expanded and deformed, transforming into a Labrador Retriever.

The dog ran in the opposite direction from the golden egg, trying to attract the dragon's attention.

The Swedish short-nosed dragon lowered its head, its gaze momentarily drawn to the dog that had suddenly appeared.

But its attention quickly returned to the golden egg—it seemed to realize that the dog was not a real threat.

Taking advantage of the dragon's momentary distraction, Cedric quickly stepped forward.

But the dragon was faster than him. It whirled around and spewed a ball of fire that grazed Cedric's shoulder, scorched a corner of his robe, and even burned his skin. He winced in pain, but did not stop.

He rolled sideways in the flames, enduring the pain as he rushed forward, grabbed the golden egg, and then quickly retreated.

The stands erupted in even louder applause and cheers. The Hufflepuff students nearly broke through the railings. Despite his injury, Cedric succeeded.

Upon seeing Cedric's burns, Prince Philip leaned forward slightly and said, "He's injured."

"It looks like a minor injury," Dumbledore said. "A glancing blow from the flame shouldn't be a big problem. Madam Pomfrey will take care of his wound."

"He reacted very quickly," Prince Philip said. "He could keep running even after being burned—this boy has guts."

Dumbledore smiled and said, "Cedric is Hufflepuff's best student. Hufflepuff is known for its loyalty and diligence, but many underestimate the courage of its students. Cedric has proven that."

"Cedric finished in five minutes!" Mr. Bagman announced. "Well done, lad!"

The cheers from the stands grew even louder.

"The last warrior to enter the fray—Harry Potter from Hogwarts!"

Applause erupted from the stands, but it was quieter than Cedric's. The Gryffindor students cheered, while students from other houses clapped or watched.

Harry emerged from the arena entrance. Unlike the other champions who walked towards the dragon, he stood at the entrance, took a deep breath, and raised his wand.

"AccioFirebolt!"

All eyes turned toward the castle. After a second of silence, a golden shadow burst through a window high above the castle—it was Harry's Firebolt. Like a shooting star, it streaked across the sky and landed precisely in Harry's outstretched hand.

Prince Philip, seeing this, raised an eyebrow in surprise: "His broom flew over?"

"The Summoning Spell," Dumbledore said. "The Summoning Spell. Harry used this spell to summon his flying broomstick."

Prince Philip leaned back in his chair: "Interesting. Everyone else is trying to get close to the dragon, but he plans to fly over."

Harry flipped himself onto the broomstick, pushed off the ground, and rose into the air.

The Hungarian wasp raised its head, its gaze following Harry's figure. Its pupils narrowed to thin slits, and its tail flicked gently.

Harry didn't fly upwards; instead, he flew to the side, keeping a distance of about twenty meters from the Hungarian Hornet. He was observing the dragon's movements, waiting for an opportunity.

The Hungarian hornet began to turn its body in his direction. Harry suddenly increased his speed; he was feinting, suddenly diving and then suddenly pulling up. The Hungarian hornet was fooled by his feint, turning its body in the direction of his dive, but Harry had already pulled up and flown to the side and rear of the dragon.

Prince Philip's self-illumination followed closely behind Harry's broom. He had seen Quidditch many times, but this was completely different. Quidditch was a sport, a dance between life and death.