I'm the King of Curry at Hogwarts

Hogwarts is not Arsenal, and it is indeed invincible.

Harry was unaware of his War God attributes; according to normal development, he was a future Auror seed.

Think about it, how bad could someone be if they could go toe-to-toe with someone who has no nose in fourth grade?

Harry's mindset changed quickly. Lying in bed, staring aimlessly at the ceiling, he found that he no longer cared much about tomorrow's dragon or anything like that, and he had a feeling of giving up.

“I think you should actually play to your strengths,” Elizabeth said abruptly. “Think about it, you’re a Gryffindor Seeker, and I’d say you’re about my level—so what are your strengths?”

Elizabeth's words made Harry fall into deep thought. Yes, what was his strength? The Excalibur? No, even the Excalibur couldn't harm a dragon like that. He was still a child, not a wizard of Dumbledore's caliber…

Suddenly, a brilliant idea struck him.

"Flying! That's right, I'm good at flying on a broomstick!" Harry said excitedly, then his face fell. "Oh no, they definitely won't let us bring broomsticks to the competition, what should I do?"

"Let's use the Summoning Charm!" Catherine pointed to the book on the coffee table next to Harry. "Accio Book!"

Harry sat up abruptly, feeling as if he had discovered a new world.

"Yes, I can cast the Summoning Charm!" Harry exclaimed excitedly. He imitated her, pulling out his wand and pointing at the book in Catherine's hand, saying, "Accio!"

The book didn't move, but Catherine's glove was pulled down halfway.

"Are you going to send the book flying, or my glove?" Catherine looked at him expressionlessly.

Harry was startled and quickly repeated, "Accio Book!"

His talent was still quite good; the book, tracing a famous parabola, hit Hermione on the head with a thud.

"Harry!" Hermione turned around and glared at Harry.

Harry quickly apologized and started practicing the Summoning Charm again, causing the poor book to fly around the room until it was almost falling apart.

"Once you've mastered the Summoning Charm, why don't you try some advanced possibilities?" Hermione interjected. "I have quite a few ideas, such as combining the Summoning Charm with the Levitation Charm... Of course, this is just an idea."

"Good idea, Harry can take note, but don't practice it now." Louis shrugged, meeting Harry's puzzled gaze, and said, "Don't bite off more than you can chew. Taking it step by step is what you should be doing right now."

Harry understood this principle, of course. He practiced the Summoning Charm until he went to bed that night, without showing any signs of fatigue. Just like a child who had just started playing computer games, he talked about the Summoning Charm in his sleep and even hooked the owl cage over and smashed it in his face.

The next morning, the atmosphere at school became unusually tense and excited, just like before a sports meet when I was a child. Classes were suspended early, and students were excitedly chatting and discussing the athletes and the outcome of the day's competition.

The Weasley twins from Gryffindor even started a betting pool, with classmates generously contributing to support their favorite players.

The school directed the students to the area encircled by the dragon, as indicated by Hagrid. Of course, they had no idea what they were about to see, nor what the warriors of the Triwizard Tournament would face.

In the Great Hall, Harry was still eating his lunch half-heartedly when Professor McGonagall hurried over. Seeing Harry still sitting there, she said loudly, "Potter, the champions are now going down to the field... You must be ready to complete the first task."

Professor McGonagall looked at Harry with pity in her eyes, and it seemed that she already knew what the first project was.

"That's a dragon, by Merlin's name..." Professor McGonagall thought to herself, silently spitting out a curse at the Triwizard Tournament's project designer.

"Okay," Harry said, standing up as his fork clattered onto the plate on the table.

"Good luck, Harry," Hermione whispered. "You will..."

Success!

"Yeah," Harry said dryly. He wanted to say something more, but he couldn't get the words out. It was as if his throat was choked up, and his voice didn't sound like his own.

He left the Great Hall with Professor McGonagall. Although Professor McGonagall appeared calm and composed, she was actually more anxious than Hermione was. If she hadn't been afraid of scaring Harry, she would have gone up to him and offered her comfort.

Professor McGonagall accompanied Harry down the stone steps and outside. The November afternoon wasn't very cold, but Harry felt a chill in his bones.

"Alright, don't be nervous," Professor McGonagall said, placing her hand on Harry's shoulder. "I need you to stay calm, Potter... Don't be afraid, don't worry, we've arranged for some wizards to be nearby, your safety won't be a big problem, and if things get bad, they'll step in to control the situation... All you need to do is make the most of your abilities. Although you're only in your fourth year, I believe you're no less capable than any of them."

Finally, seeing Harry staring blankly into the distance, Professor McGonagall waved her hands in front of him to bring him back to his senses. She asked with concern, "Are you alright?"

"It's nothing, it's nothing..." Harry didn't know what he was saying, he just answered blankly - his mind was full of those menacing dragons, and he had no mind to answer any questions.

Professor McGonagall knew he was nervous, so she didn't say anything more. Instead, she led him forward, around the edge of the Forbidden Forest, towards the place where the dragons were. When they approached the thicket where Harry had seen the dragons the day before, Harry found that a tent had been erected there, blocking the dragons from moving. The entrance to the tent faced them directly.

“You must go in with a few other warriors,” Professor McGonagall said, her voice trembling slightly. “When it’s your turn, Mr. Bagman will be inside…he will show you the steps…good luck.”

"Thank you," Ha said in a monotone, ethereal voice. Professor McGonagall led him to the tent entrance, where Louise and Catherine were talking.

"Good heavens, Mr. Mountbatten, it's wonderful to see you here..." Professor McGonagall strode forward. "Potter is in your hands now. I hope you can put him in a good position and talk to him. He seems so nervous..."

"Don't worry, Professor McGonagall." Louise patted Harry on the shoulder. "With Catherine and me here, you can rest assured."

Professor McGonagall had just left when Harry was about to speak when a greasy, sinister voice came from behind him.

"Potter," it was Snape. "I hope you'll like those cute little winged lizards in the arena. I can't wait to see them get up close and personal with you."

"Don't worry, Severus." Sirius patted Snape on the shoulder from behind. "After that, you'll also have close contact with cute little lizards. Trust in the Marauders' strength; they'll definitely give you what you want."

Upon hearing "The Raiders," Snape's face darkened even further. He glanced at Sirius Black, then tossed his robes and left.

"Don't worry, Harry, it'll be fine. I've seen what's going on there." Sirius Black put his hand on Harry's shoulder and said earnestly, "Gryffindors, you have to be brave. Think of your father; fear is not a word in his vocabulary..."

That's right. James is known as the Gryffindor Honey Badger. Even his old rival Emma is more interested in fighting than afraid of him.

In his words, Sirius Black is a spineless coward, afraid of a woman named Gryffindor? If he were even slightly afraid, he wouldn't be waving his tail like that!

This "ahhh" is the terrified cry of someone being suspended headfirst.

Of course, at this time, Sirius wouldn't expose Harry's father's true colors. What Harry needed now was a fearless role model, not a loser who couldn't beat a woman.

After Sirius finished speaking, he patted Harry on the shoulder and turned to leave.

"Come on, let's go inside." Louis called to Harry and led him into the tent.

Because of Dumbledore's instructions, Ludo Bagman did not stop Lewis from accompanying the three Hogwarts champions before the match. As soon as Harry entered the tent, he felt less nervous; after all, it was obvious to everyone inside that they were even more nervous than he was.

Fleur Delacour and Marilyn Chabanor sat together on a low wooden stool in the corner. Fleur was not as composed as usual; she looked very pale and sickly, and Marilyn was not much better off.

The good news is that Fleur and Marilyn are no longer as cold towards each other as before; they can be seen whispering to each other. Probably frightened by the dragon, their minor disagreements seem insignificant in the face of such great danger.

After all, it's impossible for two girls, Hibiscus or Marilyn, to huddle together with those guys over there for warmth, right?

Viktor Krum looked more somber than usual, his stubble-covered face etched with gloom—perhaps his way of showing his inner tension. In another corner, Vasily Petrenko sat dejectedly on a stool, his hands clasped behind his head in a look of regret, seemingly lamenting his decision to participate in the competition.

He was so focused on the glory of participating in the Triwizard Tournament that he didn't even consider the dangers involved.

Cedric was pacing back and forth, clutching a few papers. When Louis and the others entered, Cedric walked over to them, looked at Harry, and asked in a low voice, "Aren't you nervous anymore?"

"Seeing how nervous you all are makes me feel much better," Harry said honestly, not thinking there was anything to hide.

Cedric was a little speechless. What kind of answer was that? This brat…

"Ah, it's Harry! Great!" Bagman turned to look at him and said cheerfully, "Come in, come in, relax, make yourself at home!"

Bagman stood among the pale-faced warriors, wearing his old Hornets uniform again, looking like a giant cartoon bee. In Louis's opinion, it was a real shame he wasn't going to Hogwarts to study under Dumbledore.

Dumbledore is an old bee, he is a Chinese honeybee, and the tradition has been passed down through generations.

"Alright, now that everyone's here, I should give you a brief introduction!" Bagman said excitedly after glancing at Louis. "Once all the audience members have arrived, I'll be handing this bag to each of you in turn."

As he spoke, he raised a purple silk bag, a smile on his face, and shook it at them.

"You each pick out a miniature model of the thing you'll be facing! They come in different—well, different kinds. And one more thing I need to tell you… oh, right… you seemed to have seen those little cuties when you arrived. Don't worry… you won't be fighting dragons. Your task is simple: collect the golden eggs under their protection!"

When Mr. Bagman said that, he was completely unaware that the warriors didn't want to deal with the dragon, but instead wanted to take down the referee first.

Hey, you call those fire-breathing monsters outside "cute," huh? Why don't you go and befriend them, you jerk!

Cedric nodded slightly, indicating that he understood Bagman's words, and then began pacing back and forth in the tent, clutching the few sheets of paper. His face looked slightly green. Fleur Delacour and Marilyn Chabanor showed no reaction, their eyes fixed blankly on the purple silk bag in Mr. Bagman's hand. No one knew what they were thinking. Krum's face was even more ashen. His fists were clenched tightly as he stared intently at the silk bag, while Vasily sat on a stool, sighing incessantly.

Harry's expression is much better now. Seeing that everyone is struggling and afraid with him, he is not as scared as before. As the saying goes, the fear is only real when you are scared by yourself, but if someone is scared with you, the fear will be lessened.

Catherine didn't find facing a dragon scary at all. It wasn't like she hadn't fought Kristassa in her true form before. If Kristassa didn't hold back, the two could even fight to a draw. She was sitting to the side with Louis, chatting and laughing, showing off their affection, which was completely out of place with the style of the painting in the tent.

The other two school warriors, unaware of her terrifying presence, looked at Catherine with extremely mixed feelings—"Big sister, this is about to steal a golden egg right under the dragon's nose! Can't you show some respect for the dragon? You don't look scared at all..."