"Ladies and gentlemen!"
Ludo Bagman's voice, amplified by magic, echoed over the stands. He stood before the judges' table, holding a long roll of parchment, the smile on his face as bright as if he had hit the jackpot.
"After intense deliberation by the panel of judges, we have determined the scores for our champions!"
The stands fell silent instantly.
Everyone pricked up their ears, staring at the portly Wizard standing at the center.
At the judges' table, the expressions of the several Principals varied, but overall, they seemed satisfied.
Only Karkaroff looked displeased.
"The second task is based on a hundred-point scale!" Ludo's voice continued to echo. "Schools that rescue their treasures within the time limit and return to shore will receive a base score of thirty points!"
A low murmur of discussion broke out in the stands.
"If the treasure is rescued but the arrival is past the two-hour mark, only fifteen points will be awarded!"
Harry's face fell.
"If not a single treasure is rescued..." Ludo paused, his gaze subtly sweeping over the Durmstrang camp, "unfortunately, zero points will be given."
There was dead silence in the Durmstrang stands.
"In addition," Ludo continued, "excluding Principal Karkaroff's score, each judge has ten points, totaling seventy points! These seventy points will be evaluated based on the champions' performance during the task!"
Hearing this, most of the champions breathed a sigh of relief.
They had all completed the task within the time limit—this meant they had secured the base points, and the gap shouldn't be too large.
Only Harry looked depressed.
He had indeed completed the task, but he had exceeded the time limit.
He had been chased and slashed at by that Merfolk warrior for a long time and had finally managed to break free with all his might, but he still went over time.
Fifteen points versus thirty points—it was a twofold difference.
Harry sighed and silently comforted himself: at least it was better than zero points.
"Now, let us announce the scores for the second task!"
Ludo cleared his throat and unfurled the parchment in his hand.
"Mr. Lynn—the first champion to complete the task!"
The entire venue fell silent instantly.
On the large screen, Lynn's face was magnified. He stood there, his expression calm, showing no ripples of emotion.
"He demonstrated astonishing combat power when dealing with those magical creatures!" Ludo's voice rose. "From the Blue-ringed Giant Kraken to the four Merfolk warriors, and then to the Kelpie—his performance was nothing short of perfect!"
A burst of warm applause rang out from the stands.
"Therefore—"
Ludo paused, deliberately building suspense.
"We award him a score of ninety-nine points!"
The applause stopped abruptly.
Lynn: ???
The calm on his face instantly cracked.
Ninety-nine? Where did that missing point go?!
The audience also looked confused. Whispers began to spread through the stands.
"Ninety-nine points? Not a full score?"
"Why was one point deducted?"
"Was his performance not perfect enough?"
Seeing the situation turning sour, Ludo quickly added, "The reason Headmaster Dumbledore gave for deducting one point is—he could afford to be a little less brutal."
The whole place fell silent for a moment.
Then—
"Hahaha! Dumbledore said 'brutal'!"
"It was indeed brutal. Look at what happened to that octopus."
Lynn: "..."
He took a deep breath and looked at Dumbledore at the judges' table.
Dumbledore was holding a teacup, nodding slightly toward him with a kind smile on his face.
That smile clearly said: Child, I'm doing this for your own good.
Lynn looked away, silently making another mental note against Dumbledore.
"The champions of Castelobruxo—the second to complete the task!"
Ludo's voice continued to ring out.
"Although they entered the water later, their performance during the task was commendable!
"Especially Mr. Daniel, who once again used a bottle of wine to obtain clues about the Merfolk village from magical creatures, saving them a great deal of time and leaving a deep impression on the judges. It was as if Dionysus himself had descended!"
A burst of friendly laughter erupted from the stands.
"After deliberation by the judges, their score is—ninety-three points!"
The Castelobruxo camp instantly boiled over with excitement.
Daniel raised his fist and gave it a forceful pump. Louis and Nicolas hugged each other, jumping up and down.
Principal Lema sat at the judges' table, his back straight and his face full of pride.
"Ilvermorny is next!"
Ludo continued reading.
"The performance of the three champions, Ryan, Thomas, and Jordan, was equally outstanding! They demonstrated excellent teamwork and tactical prowess throughout the task!"
"Their score is—ninety points!"
"The champions of Beauxbatons—the third to come ashore!"
Ludo's voice rose again.
"Their perseverance during the competition moved the judges!" Ludo's tone carried sincere admiration. "Especially Miss Chloe, who persisted in completing the task despite being injured by a Grindylow!"
Lynn looked back at Chloe. This girl was truly unlucky. She had been bitten by Red Venomous Ants in the first task and injured by a Grindylow in the second—she simply had terrible luck.
Another burst of warm applause rang out from the stands.
"This perfectly aligns with the original intent of holding the Triwizard Tournament!" Ludo paused before announcing, "Eighty-seven points!"
Madame Maxime sat at the judges' table with a satisfied smile on her face.
"The champions of Uagadou—fourth place!"
Ludo continued.
"They demonstrated an exceptional level of Transfiguration during the competition. Their technique of transforming themselves into fish was breathtaking!"
A wave of admiration rose from the stands.
"Their score is—eighty-three points!"
Principal Okoye stroked his beard, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.
Next was Hogwarts. Due to Harry's overtime, they only secured a score of fifty-seven points, but compared to Durmstrang's big fat zero, it was still quite respectable.
...
After the judges' scoring session ended, the second task of the Triwizard Tournament finally drew to a close.
Sunlight spilled across the surface of the Black Lake, shimmering brilliantly.
For the champions, it was truly a mix of joy and sorrow.
This difference in emotion was directly proportional to their scores—the higher the score, the better the mood; the lower the score, the worse the mood. As for those with a score of zero...
The three champions of Durmstrang had already disappeared to who knew where.
In comparison, the students were generally happy.
Although the second task had lasted only a mere two hours and was indeed a bit short to watch, the money-distributing session after the competition was far more entertaining.
Right now, the Weasley twins were surrounded by a crowd of people.
They were packed in three layers deep, making the area completely impassable.
"Fred! My Galleons!"
"George! I bet on Lynn to win! Five Galleons!"
"And mine! I bet ten Galleons!"
Fred and George stood at the center of the crowd, with several bulging cloth bags piled beside them. They were frantically counting and distributing money, yet their faces wore smiles as bright as could be.
"Don't worry, don't worry!" Fred shouted while handing a bag full of Galleons to a Gryffindor boy in front of him. "This is yours—seven Galleons. Count them carefully!"
"George! Over here, over here!" another student squeezed through, reaching out as far as possible.
George wiped the sweat from his forehead and pulled a handful of Galleons from a cloth bag. "Yours, yours—eight Galleons!"
The scene was extremely chaotic for a while.
On the outskirts of the crowd, Ron stood there, watching everything longingly.
His eyes were glued to those cloth bags, watching the Galleons clatter out, and he was so envious he was almost drooling.
He swallowed and murmured, "So many Galleons... if only they were mine..."
Several Gryffindor students passed by him, clutching their winnings, their faces beaming with joy.
"Ron! Did you place a bet?" one of them shouted.
Ron's face stiffened for a moment.
"I... of course I did!" he said, forcing himself to sound confident.
"Then go get your money!" The student waved the Galleons in his hand at him.
Ron gave a couple of dry laughs. Watching those who had received their winnings grinning from ear to ear, he felt increasingly uneasy.
Why hasn't Ginny come back yet?
Could it really have been pocketed?
Just as Ron was lost in thought, a familiar figure squeezed out of the crowd.
Ginny was walking toward him, holding a small cloth bag.
Ron's eyes lit up instantly!
He lunged forward in a single stride, reaching toward Ginny for the money.
"I knew it!" he said, his voice cracking with excitement. "I knew Fred and George wouldn't withhold your pocket money! Give it to me, give it to me!"
Ginny immediately pulled the cloth bag against her chest.
The speed of that movement and the level of alertness were so high that even Harry, standing nearby, was amazed.
"This isn't yours," she said.
Ron's hand froze in midair, the smile on his face solidifying.
"What?"
Ginny looked at him, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly.
"I have some good news and some bad news," she said. "Which one do you want to hear?"
Ron was nearly dying of anxiety.
He looked at the cloth bag in Ginny's hand, then at the group of people still distributing money in the distance, then back at the bag in her hand, scratching his head in frustration.
"It's all the same, all the same!" He waved his hand. "Good news first!"
Ginny nodded.
"The good news is," she said, holding up the cloth bag and shaking it in front of Ron, "I won this bag of money by betting with my own pocket money."
Ron's eyes lit up again.
"Who did you bet on?"
"Lynn."
"How much did you win?"
"Five Sickles turned into five Galleons."
Ron gasped.
Five Galleons!
With his meager pocket money, he couldn't even save up five Galleons in a year!
Ginny tucked the money bag away, her smile deepening.
"And the bad news?"
Ron finally remembered there was bad news.
He looked at Ginny nervously.
Ginny cleared her throat.
"The bad news is—when I placed the bet, Fred and George saw through the fact that I was betting on your behalf at a single glance."
Ron's smile froze on his face.
Ginny continued, "They said that little trick of 'having someone else bet for you while you hide in the back' was something they stopped doing when they were seven."
Ron: "..."
"And then?"
"And then?" Ginny blinked. "Then your money was confiscated by them."
Ron's eyes widened.
"Con... confiscated?!"
"Yeah." Ginny nodded. "They said it was an 'IQ tax' to help you remember the lesson. They also said..."
She paused, as if reminiscing.
"They said next time you want to bet, just come yourself. Don't let your sister lead the charge; it's too embarrassing for the Weasley family."
Ron was completely petrified.
He stood there, mouth agape, eyes wide, his face a mask of disbelief.
Seeing him like this, Ginny couldn't help but laugh.
She patted Ron on the shoulder.
"Brother, don't be sad," she said, her tone carrying a hint of comfort. "At least you learned a lesson, didn't you?"
Ron turned his head to look at her.
His gaze was filled with the question: Are you comforting me or twisting the knife?
Ginny shrugged and turned to walk away.
"I'm going back to count my money!" She waved the cloth bag in her hand without looking back.
Ron stood there, watching her retreating figure, wanting to cry but having no tears.
---
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