In fact, Tuesday wasn't a pleasant day for Harry.

If he could, Van Lin would rather have passed the first level himself instead of Harry.

However, this is destined to be only one thought.

He could only make Harry as skilled as he could be with the spells, the Eye Curse or the Flying Charm.

That's all he can do.

Harry's mood wasn't in the right mood, even if he had prepared so much, but the thought of those damn guys made Harry a little unmotivated.

It was a dragon after all, and even if the wizard had successfully conquered it, the power of the dragon ......

It still made Harry feel terrible.

Whether the people around him wished him good luck or booed disgruntled "We'll have a box of salvage gauze ready, Potter" as he passed by, Harry felt extremely lonely.

The tension was so strong that he wondered if he would lose control when he was led to the dragon, cursing loudly at everyone he met.

Time seemed to travel like never before, piece by piece, one minute the three of them were sitting in the first class on the history of magic, the next he was walking to lunch, and then (how did he spend the morning?, where did he go in the last few hours before he saw the dragon?)

Professor McGonagall was hurrying towards him in the Great Hall. A lot of people around saw it.

"Potter, the Warriors are going down to the playground now, and you need to prepare for the first mission. ”

"Okay," Harry replied. He stood up, and the pork he was eating fell back to his plate with a thud.

"Good luck, Harry," Hermione said, "you'll do it!"

"Yes!" said Harry, but his voice was not at all like his usual voice.

Van Lin looked at Harry with some concern, but Harry was so nervous that he forgot to say goodbye to them.

He and Professor McGonagall left the Great Hall.

Professor McGonagall also seemed uncomfortable, in fact, she looked as nervous as Hermione.

Professor McGonagall and Harry walked down the stone steps and were about to enter the playground on that cold November afternoon when she put her hand on his shoulder.

"Now, don't lie," she said, "keep a cool head, in case the situation gets out of hand, we will also have wizards to control the situation, the main thing is to try to do your best, no one will look down on you, are you okay?"

"Yes," Harry heard himself say, "yes, I'm fine." ”

She led him to the dragon's hideout, along the edge of the forest, but as they approached the walled thickets, Harry saw a newly erected tent with its population facing them, covering the dragon.

"You and the other warriors come in from here," Professor McGonagall said in a voice that bordered on trembling, "and then when it is your turn, Mister Bagmun will be inside, and he will tell you, tell you the procedure, and good luck." ”

Professor McGonagall clearly knew what Harry was up against, but that didn't change the situation.

"Thank you," Harry said, his voice flat and cold.

She left at the entrance to the tent.

Harry entered. Victor Krum seemed more arrogant than usual, and Harry thought that was how he was nervous.

Cedric paced back and forth, and when Harry entered, Cedric smiled at him, and Harry smiled back, but he felt that the muscles on Cedric's face were so stiff that he had forgotten how to smile.

"Harry!oh, all right!" said Bagmun happily, looking him up and down, "Come in, come in as if you were in your own house!"

Standing in the middle of the crowd of all pale-faced warriors, Bagmun looked a bit like an oversized cartoon character. He put on his old wasp robe again.

"Alright, now everyone is here—it's time to begin!" said Bagmun briskly, "and when the audience is ready, I'll bring this bag to you," he held up a small purple silk bag and shook it at the four of them—"From the bag you have to choose a model, and then you will have to face the enemy! Everyone's is different—well—you know, you have to have a trick. And I'm going to have to tell you something else. Ah, by the way, your mission is to get the Golden Egg!"

Harry glanced to the side. Cedric nodded once to show that he understood Bagmun's words, and began to pace around the tent again;

Fleur Delacour and Krum didn't react at all.

Maybe they thought they would be uncomfortable if they spoke, and that's how Harry felt. But at least, they did so voluntarily......

In a few moments, hundreds of footsteps were heard passing through the tent, and the men were talking, laughing, and making noise excitedly, only a tent away, but they felt very far away from the group, as if they were another kind of creature.

Then—it seemed like only a second to Harry—Bagmund opened the mouth of the small purple silk pouch.

"Ladies first," he said, handing the bag to Fleur Delacour.

With trembling hands in her pocket, she figured out a small, perfect model of the dragon—a Welsh green dragon with a number around its neck.

She already knew what she was up against, and Vanlin had told Fleur that they were friends, and that Madame Maxime, and that only Cedric knew nothing if Harry hadn't spoken to Diggory all the time.

Fleur Delacour was not surprised, but had a look of resignation.

Krum's reaction unsurprisingly proves Harry right again. What he drew was a scarlet Chinese fire dragon with a number 3 around his neck.

He didn't blink, just stared at the ground.

Cedric reached into his pocket and found a blue-gray Swedish short-nosed dragon with the number 1.Knowing that there was only one 4 left, Harry put his hand into the silk bag and pulled out a Hungarian horn-tailed dragon, needless to say the number was 4.When Harry looked down at it, it responded with outstretched wings and tiny fangs.

"All right, you've got it!" said Bagmun, "everybody draws out the dragons you're going to face, and the numbers are the order in which you're going to fight, understand? Now I'm going to go out and leave some time for you, and I'm going out to explain." Mr. Diggory, you're the first to get out of the tent and go inside the fence when you hear the whistle, okay? Now, Harry, can I say a word to you? Come outside. ”

"Well, okay. Harry said dumbfounded, and he got up and followed Bagmund out of the tent and walked a short way into the woods.

Bagmun turned to him with a fatherly look of concern on his face.

"What do you think, Harry, is there anything I can do for you?"

"What?" said Harry. "I- no, no. ”

"Have you figured out what to do?" said Bagmun again, lowering his voice like a conspirator.

"Because I don't mind sharing a little bit of information, if you need it, you know. I mean," Bagmun continued, his voice lowered, "you're the underdog here, and if there's anything I can do to help." ”

"No," said Harry, who was so rude to refuse, "no-I-I've already decided what to do, thank you." ”7110