Hogwarts: I'm Harry's older cousin

Chapter 269, Section 267: This persistent old dog

Halfway through the banquet, Hogwarts welcomed two more guests, both from the Ministry of Magic. One was Ludo Bagman, the Director of Physical Education at the Ministry of Magic, and the other was someone who surprised everyone.

"Father?"

Draco stared in surprise at the man in the Ministry of Magic uniform sitting in the teachers' seat.

It was Draco's father, Lucius.

He came as a special envoy of the Ministry of Magic, together with Ludo Bagman, to represent the three Houses.

He never mentioned this to me.

Draco noticed his father's slight frown.

This is not normal.

He planned to find some time to ask his father.

As the banquet was drawing to a close, Dumbledore cleared his throat and began to draw attention to himself: "I have something important to announce."

"I think everyone has heard some news about this beforehand."

"Yes, the legendary Triwizard Tournament, which has been suspended for centuries, will officially resume this year."

Although everyone had already guessed it, the young wizards still started discussing it with great excitement after Dumbledore officially announced it.

"One champion will be chosen from each of the three magic schools: Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons."

"Being chosen means you will be fighting alone, which is quite dangerous. Please consider this carefully before participating," Dumbledore emphasized solemnly.

Many of the young wizards had lost interest in listening to Dumbledore's words; all they wanted to do was sign up and make a name for themselves.

Then Lucius, on behalf of the Ministry of Magic, announced the rules for the Triwizard Tournament: there would be three competitions, and the one with the highest score would win. In order to minimize the accident rate, wizards under the age of seventeen were not allowed to participate.

The young wizards expressed their dissatisfaction with this rule, and it was met with a chorus of boos.

Age has never been a measure of a wizard's power.

Look at the famous Mr. Potter, who killed the Dark Lord when he was a baby, yet he is not even seventeen years old yet.

Isn't this rule just making things difficult for Mr. Potter?

Dumbledore seemed to have anticipated this outcome, so he had Filch bring out the Goblet of Fire—a large, roughly carved goblet made of a mixture of wood and glass, unremarkable in itself, but filled with blue and white flames.

The flames were not ordinary flames.

Dali used his Data Eye to see that there was a contract involved.

The Goblet of Fire is indeed a cup of covenant; the so-called three-way battle for supremacy is actually a registration process through the Goblet of Fire.

Once a contract is made, it cannot be broken; otherwise, the consequences will be severe.

Dumbledore drew a circle around the Goblet of Fire with his wand, the white lines standing out prominently.

"This age line cannot be crossed by anyone under the age of seventeen."

"Of course, if you can cross this line and successfully drop the parchment with your name on it into the cup, then you will be considered to have successfully registered."

This way, there's no age limit; as long as you can successfully register, you've passed.

"From today until this Thursday, the Goblet of Fire will be here, waiting for everyone to sign up."

Upon hearing this, many of the young wizards exchanged glances, and their inappropriate thoughts began to stir again.

Representing Hogwarts would be so interesting.

The prize for winning the crucial Triwizard Tournament is a full 1,000 Galleons.

As Dumbledore, Lucius, Bagman, and the headmasters of the other two schools left, many young wizards began to get excited.

"Those who are hoping for a lucky break can stop thinking about it now."

"The previous three-way championship was terminated due to the high number of deaths. In other words, there is no need to register if you are not prepared to face death."

Dudley's well-intentioned reminder was like a bucket of cold water poured on them, extinguishing the burning enthusiasm of many young wizards.

Glory is important, but not as important as life.

"Kakalov".

Just as Karkaroff was about to lead Durmstrang's students back to the ship to rest, a familiar voice sounded behind him, a voice that seemed to be full of anger.

Karkarov turned around abruptly, his face turning deathly pale, revealing a terrifying expression of mixed resentment and fear.

Moody was staring intently at him with his magic eye right in front of him.

"It's you!"

Karkaroff glared at Moody through gritted teeth, his eyes blazing with fury, his grip so tight it seemed he could crush all his teeth.

"It's me!" Moody glared back defiantly. "We meet again, Karkaroff."

"The last time we met was more than ten years ago, oh, it feels like it happened yesterday."

Moody spoke as if he were talking to an old friend, but Karkaroff didn't see it that way.

Sure enough, Moody changed the subject, looking at Karkaroff with a mocking expression: "I'll throw you into Azkaban like a dead dog."

Karkaroff was captured by Moody after a six-month pursuit. This former Auror who captured him left a deep shadow in Karkaroff's mind.

Moody glanced at Karkaroff's clenched fists and snorted dismissively.

"From now on, I will always be watching you, always keeping an eye on you, always keeping an eye on you. I know you've always maintained contact with those dark wizards. Heh heh, if you do anything underhanded and I catch you doing it, I will definitely drag you back to Azkaban, I promise."

Moody pressed forward relentlessly, and Karkaroff retreated hastily until his back was pressed against the wall with nowhere left to go.

"I can arrest you once, and I can arrest you twice."

"That's where you should be, surrounded by darkness and despair."

"Moodyson said."

"I'm telling you, I'm not afraid of you!" Karkaroff shouted at Moody, but his tone sounded completely unconvincing.

He had personally experienced Moody's strength and found him to be no match for him, even though Moody was an old, lame, and blind wizard. He still wasn't very confident.

While wizards aren't necessarily more powerful with age, those who were once elite Aurors are certainly no less formidable even in their old age.

The Durmstrang students behind Karkaroff exchanged bewildered glances; it was the first time they had ever seen their principal so disheveled.

"Oh, really? Heh," Moody said noncommittally, giving Kakarov a meaningful smile before slowly walking away from him, leaning on his cane.

Only after Moody's figure disappeared at the end of the corridor did Karkaroff let out a long sigh of relief, then glared at the spot where Moody had vanished with a twisted expression.

"That persistent old dog!"

(End of this chapter)