Harry Potter: Becoming a Study God

Chapter 570: The Chosen One

"All right, relax a little," Bagman said cheerfully, rubbing his hands together. "Actually, your chances of making it to the second round are quite high, right? Hmm… As for guidance on the first task, Barty, why don't you explain?"

Crouch lifted his eyes listlessly, took two steps forward, and said, "The first task is designed to test your courage, intelligence, and overall magical ability."

"The competition will take place on November 24th. During the task, champions are not allowed to request or receive any help from anyone outside the arena. You may not bring enchanted dolls, Jinx-Off vests, or any other magical items…"

Many eyes swept over to Wade's face, and several people looked subtly relieved—as if they believed that without those aids, half of his advantages would disappear.

"Your only weapon will be your wand."

"The ability to face the unknown is a key quality for a wizard. Therefore, we won't give you any clues about the content of the task beforehand."

"Only after the first task is completed will you receive information about the second. Also, given the high demands and long duration of the tournament, the champions will be exempt from end-of-year exams."

After saying this, Crouch seemed to think for a moment, then added, "That should be all… You may go."

The group turned to leave the small room. Just before exiting, Wade heard Bagman say in his usual chipper tone:

"Well, our main work for today is done. Barty, shall we go to Hogsmeade for a drink? I'm missing Madam Rosmerta's butterbeer!"

"No, there's still a lot of work at the Ministry," Crouch replied flatly. Then he said to Bagman, "Have you finalized things with Marchionne? The live broadcast of the tournament…"

The door was closed by Cedric, who was at the back of the group, cutting off the rest of the conversation.

The Great Hall was now empty. The students and Hogwarts professors had already left. Only the headmasters of the eleven wizarding schools remained, chatting casually at the staff table.

The champions walked toward their respective heads of school, who were discussing things in their own native languages as they returned to their lodgings.

Seraphina from Ilvermorny was complaining to headmaster Agilbert, "Aside from knowing that the first task will eliminate half the champions, we know nothing else…"

"I know just as much as you do, child," said Headmaster Agilbert. "No matter what obstacles lie ahead—smash through them! Besides, when the time comes, you can always do this…"

He lowered his voice and began muttering something quietly.

"That... doesn't seem right," said a black-haired boy named Adam hesitantly.

"This is for the honor of Ilvermorny, children," said Agilbert. "Think about what losing this tournament would mean… Some principles can be… slightly relaxed."

...

Dumbledore, smiling warmly, looked at the three students before him and said, "I suggest you return to your common rooms. I'm sure your fellow students are waiting to celebrate with you!"

The three said nothing. After bidding the headmaster goodbye, they left the Great Hall together.

"So, I guess we're rivals now?" Cedric said with a smile as they walked down the corridor.

Wade shook his head. "33 to 16—if we can help it, it's best to eliminate the other schools first."

"Sounds good," Harry sighed in relief. "All in all… let's just do our best!"

"Well said. So then—"

Cedric extended his fist. Harry and Wade exchanged a glance, then both raised their fists to bump his.

"Let's do our best!" Cedric said with a radiant smile. "Hope we all make it to the finals!"

"Yeah!" Harry responded cheerfully.

Wade nodded silently and his gaze swept across Cedric's warm smile.

Soon after, the three parted ways—Cedric headed downward, while Wade and Harry went upstairs.

The stairwell was empty, save for the faint snoring coming from the portraits on either side. As the two passed, some of the portraits suddenly opened their eyes and shouted:

"The Triwizard Tournament is back—Hogwarts is still the best!"

The moment the words were out, the portrait subjects fell back asleep with loud snores.

When everything had quieted down again, Harry finally spoke honestly from his heart:

"I really didn't expect it to be me… Honestly, Angelina is really capable. I didn't think I had much of a chance."

A hint of unease crept into his expression. "Out of all the students at Hogwarts who entered… Am I really one of the top three?"

He looked at Wade, whose calm and steady presence had always reassured him. But he didn't know what kind of answer he was hoping for—an honest assessment of his shortcomings, or an affirmation that he truly had the strength.

"The Goblet of Fire chose you. It judged you to be qualified. That makes you a champion—no doubt about it," Wade said.

"That goblet definitely considered magical ability, but probably not just that. Maybe it also looked at courage, determination, resilience, morality, mental strength—things like that."

The implication was clear: Harry's magical power might not match Angelina's, but in other areas, the Goblet had evaluated him more highly—making him one of The Chosen.

Whether that was true or not, it brought Harry a sudden sense of relief. After thinking for a moment, he said:

"Wade… why do I get the feeling… you're not surprised at all that I was chosen?"

—Because in Wade's mind, Harry was always one of the champions.

"Someone who's defeated Voldemort twice—what's so strange about him being selected?" Wade said calmly.

Harry replied a bit awkwardly, "You know… the reason Voldemort disappeared was because of the magic my mum left me. It wasn't my own power."

But Wade said, "Wealth, power, wisdom, appearance, strength, magic… whatever you have—it's part of your strength. Fleur Delacour is beautiful, and that's part of her advantage too. Should we make her ugly just to be fair to everyone else?"

Harry burst into laughter. His shoulders shook with it, and the unease and self-doubt that had clouded his expression were completely swept away.

At the fork in the hallway, they said goodbye. Harry headed toward Gryffindor Tower. Wade glanced at the long, winding staircase—some parts of it shifting slightly on their own—and sighed quietly.

Moments later, a Peregrine falcon soared in through a window. With a flap of its wings, it headed toward the Ravenclaw Tower.

As he flew through the air, Wade caught sight of a cheetah running around the Black Lake in the distance. Its long body was stretched into a streamlined shape, and every push of its hind legs launched it forward in a burst of speed.

It was a different kind of freedom—born of the wild. When it ran, it was as if it was speed itself.

In the falcon's eyes, there was a faint smile. Then, with another beat of its wings, it pierced through the darkness and landed atop the pointed spire of the tall tower.

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