"This is impressive, Master Caesar. Were it not for my magic, I would have believed every bit of it."
High above the field, observing the clashes below, Maverick, Dumbledore, Olympe and Karkaroff watched closely, quietly sharing remarks about their students performance.
"It's merely a variant of the Confusion Charm, Headmaster Karkaroff. While it can fool mage apprentices, anyone with basic control over their magical sense can see through it."
"Regardless, this is remarkable. Almost like a Pensieve… marvelous. I would appreciate learning the principles, if you don't mind." Karkaroff spoke with apparent admiration, fingers brushing his chin.
With his Great Magi–level magical sense, he could clearly discern what was real and what was not. The spells fired by the kids were very much real, but the two behemoths were nothing more than harmless constructs.
"I can tell we're still inside the classroom. So what happens to the spells they're firing? The aftermath… is that illusion too?" he asked again.
"It's a bit complicated…" Maverick sighed inwardly. What with this geezer getting all nosy. In fact, on top of the illusion magic, there was also a layer of improvised mirror dimension added to absorb the aftermath, thin enough that magical senses would not be completely cut off from the outside. But Karkaroff did not know about sorcery, so he was not about to reveal that.
Anyways, just make something up. "I've layered the floor with cushioning absorption enchantments," he said finally with a straight face, making the older man tilt his head in confusion.
"Hm… little raven…" From the side, he heard the tall witch speak, calling him by that name. Bah. When was it ever his name.
"What?"
He turned, glancing at her with an eye roll. She wore a thoughtful expression, then, as if something crossed her mind, she suddenly turned sharply toward him and narrowed her eyes.
Seriously… what now?
"Little raven… I recall the first time we met… you almost fooled me using this same trick, right?"
Mavrick: ...
"I have no idea what you're talking about…"
Heh. Maxime chuckled and leaned forward, whispering so only Maverick could hear. "I remember I was completely fooled, and by completely I mean completely. Even my magical sense detected nothing. So tell me… is it really just a simple illusion?"
Maverick's brows twitched. Indeed, back then he had pulled one over this tsundere, but the display here was only a very watered-down version of the magic, just enough to affect mage apprentices. He had not shown the full extent of it, not even to Dumbledore, and only his teacher knew how absurdly unreasonable it could be.
No, perhaps even Edward didn't know, because Maverick was certain his understanding had already surpassed him.
"That's your problem, woman. Maybe you were so cocky back then that you failed to control your magic."
He denied her claim with a straight face, raised a brow, and smirked. Anyways, what could she do now? If she wanted to corner him, she should have done so back then. But that ship had long sailed.
"You know…" her eyebrow twitched, "you're beginning to sound an awful lot like that vulgar moron you call a master."
"Thank you for the compliment. I'll be sure to tell him that." Maverick replied without flinching.
The half-giant let out a scoff then, realizing she was not getting anything and turned back to the action below. Meanwhile, Dumbledore and Karkaroff stared, puzzled, unable to hear a single word despite standing right next to them.
Seconds blurred into minutes as time crept onward.
"I rather suspect our young champions will give us a most memorable performance on the trial day," Dumbledore said after a thoughtful pause.
"Hmph. My little darling will surely take first place. Just look at her." Olympe gestured toward Fleur below, performing like an elegant dance, dodging and directing spell after spell.
Indeed. They were no longer acting like cornered prey and were actively engaging. At first they struggled, but as time went on, it looked like they had found a rhythm in keeping the puppets busy.
"But it will be different with actual living dragons. And the support they receive might not be as coordinated as this," Karkaroff added after a moment of thought.
"We shall know the day after tomorrow, Igor. In any case, Professor Caesar will be monitoring security during the task." Dumbledore glanced at Maverick with his easy smile. "I trust he won't let any accidents happen."
Eventually, the survival exercise became a game of tag and dragged on for another hour. Both sides settled into their rhythm, and soon the statues were being disarmed, blasted, or bound with growing confidence.
But Maverick did not stop the exercise after just one success. He kept pushing them, making it harder with each round until he was satisfied. And the kids did not seem bothered by it either. In fact, they looked thrilled. After all, how often did they get to experience dueling like this? Never would be accurate. And by the end, despite their exhausted bodies, they all wore wide grins across their faces.
---
"Are we… back?"
Fleur Delacour, half veela and half human, so often poised and elegant, now lay sprawled across the ground, arms and legs spread wide like everyone else, her chest heaving as she fought for breath, staring blankly at the sky above.
She frowned when her vision began to change all of a sudden in that familiar way again, the blue above dissolving and being replaced by the unremarkable stone ceiling.
"I suppose…" came the reply, and she turned her head slightly to see Harry pushing himself up slowly, catching his breath just like her. With a faint flush on her cheeks, she quickly gathered herself, sat upright, and brushed her robes, not even realizing there was no dirt there.
"Told you it was all an illusion." The Boy Who Lived flashed her a smile, then glanced around. In front of him, Cedric and his team were slowly getting back to their feet as well. Where they had been on the opposite side, at least dozens of meters away just moments ago, they were now only a few feet apart, just as drenched in sweat as he was.
"You did the broom thing again." Harry chuckled, grinning at him.
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but that was way more thrilling than a game of Quidditch."
The grin on the Irish Quidditch star was just as wide, and it said it all. Clearly, they had all lived every second of that brutal yet exhilarating training, and they loved every bit of it.
Back on their feet, the champions took another look around as recognition gradually set in, the familiar classroom, the closed space, and…
"So what have you learned today?" Maverick asked, drawing their attention.
No one answered right away. It still felt unreal to them that only moments ago they had been under open sky, and harder still to accept that it might have all been an illusion. Well, Maverick never made it clear, and it was just Potter and Diggory saying so.
"No one?"
It was only when Maverick asked a second time that a hand finally went up. "Yes, Potter..."
"Teamwork?"
"Hm… that's pretty obvious, isn't it. Anyone else?" His gaze swept across the rest of the group.
"Spell coordination?" the French witch, not Fleur but her school's other champion, offered hesitantly.
"Good…" Maverick nodded. "Any other answers?"
"Combat experience?" Viktor Krum said, wearing a thoughtful expression.
"Improvising?"
"Ah, bingo…" Maverick pointed at Cedric and smiled. Then he glanced at the others.
"Actually, you're all correct. But the point of this exercise was also to test your awareness, and to see how you adapt. You all came here with expectations, I bet, and I'm sure none of you expected a drill like that, right?"
He glanced over their different expressions and went on.
"In the original rules of the Triwizard Tournament, champions were not given clues until right before the task. That led to… unfortunate accidents. Some were overwhelmed. Others were caught completely off guard. We want to minimize that as much as possible, but we also don't want to take away the thrill."
He paused, then smiled.
"Which is why you've been shown hints of what's coming. Why you've been drilled in spells that will actually matter. And today, you got a taste of facing the unexpected..."
Then his gaze sharpened slightly.
"That said, don't assume the task you'll face the day after tomorrow will look anything like what you just experienced. I can tell you very clearly, it won't..."
He nodded once, emphasizing his next words.
"My objective was simple. To make you understand the importance of using whatever advantage you have. Remember, unless the rules say otherwise, you are allowed to use any edge available, just like Mr Diggory here, who thought to take to the skies to keep the enemy busy..."
Everyone looked toward the pretty boy, who rubbed the back of his head, cheeks faintly flushed.
"Can't you at least tell us something, professeur, about the task, even if it's not the exact details?" Fleur asked, lifting her hand after a brief pause.
At her question, their focus turned back to Maverick, hopeful looks meeting him, only for them to sigh when he shook his head.
"You'll find out on the day of the task. Like I said before, telling you now would only ruin the experience."
He gave the half-blood a small smile. "But what I can tell you is that you're ready. So stop overthinking it, and for the rest of today and tomorrow, I suggest you take it easy..."
He paused, then glanced at the watch on his wrist.
"That's it for training. From here on out, including the second and third tasks, you won't receive any assistance. No clues either. Which means you're on your own."
He smiled, and ignoring their slightly changing expressions, decided to call it there. "And if there are no urgent matters to raise, you're all dismissed."
"Wait... Professor, are you certain that we won't be forming teams?" Harry raised his hand suddenly. He had a feeling there was more to it, more to this exercise than just preparing them for the unexpected. Even though Maverick had already made it clear before, his Gryffindor brain still wanted to clarify one more time.
"No, Potter." Maverick repeated, rolling his eyes. "The six of you will not be forming any kind of alliances. That I can guarantee."
If it's not us… "Then what about—"
"Alright, enough for today. Off you go. Out." Maverick cut the nosy kid off and pointed straight at the door. It really did feel like Granger had taken his place.
Then, just as they all turned away with quiet sighs, he added one more thing. "Oh… and don't mention today's practice to anyone. Otherwise, you'll be disqualified."
The six champions soon left in pairs, leaving Maverick alone in the spacious room.
"What a drag…" he remarked, rolling his eyes in a certain direction.
And just as the door closed, the three deans who had been hiding all this time finally dropped their invisibility.
"Disqualified?" Olympe Maxime raised an inquisitive brow at him, crossing her arms.
"The kid was getting too close to figuring it out..." Maverick shrugged.
Dumbledore let out a soft chuckle. "Ah, but I think Harry has already figured it out, Professor."
"As long as we don't tell them directly. That's the rule..." Maverick waved his hand, and the room seemed to fold in on itself, returning to its normal classroom size within seconds.
"So how many guests are we expecting to attend?" Olympe Maxime asked, giving the change a brief glance.
"Full attendance," Dumbledore replied. "And Miss Isabella will be broadcasting as well, correct, Professor Caesar?"
Maverick nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Bella said she'll arrive with her team tomorrow." He was indeed looking forward to it, his lioness staying at Hogwarts for the next few days.
"Thank you, Master Caesar, for including them in your practice," Karkaroff said with an appreciative nod to Maverick.
"It's my pleasure, Headmaster Karkaroff…"
"I shall go check on my boys then… Headmaster Dumbledore… Madam Maxime…" The old wizard inclined his head to the two as well, then headed for the exit.
But as soon as he was gone, the smiles on the three remaining faces faded. Dumbledore turned to Maverick and asked, "Still nothing from Lucius about him?"
"Apparently there were talks. But Riddle isn't sure where Igor's loyalty lies. Though he was once a Death Eater, he is now a powerful mage, after all. Given Riddle's current pathetic state, I'd wager he fears Karkaroff might turn against him if they met. What slave would continue serving knowing their master is vulnerable, right?"
"Does he even know Voldemort isn't fully dead?" Olympe inquired.
Maverick hummed thoughtfully. "Interesting question." He turned to Dumbledore. "Does Karkaroff still have the Dark Mark?"
"I'm afraid I cannot be sure," Dumbledore mused, fingers brushing his beard. "But as you mentioned, he has indeed grown quite powerful, and it is entirely possible he discovered a way to rid himself of it..."
"Well, we'll know soon enough. For now, we just keep an eye on him. And if he becomes a variable, we can always make him disappear quietly."
"You cannot, just, make a school's headmaster disappear," Olympe rolled her eyes.
"Relax, I'm joking." Maverick chuckled. "I just mean we don't involve him in our plans."
"Your jokes are not appreciated."
"How about a late afternoon cup of tea?" Dumbledore offered, breaking the silence.
"Let's have it here." Maverick waved his hand, and a table with three chairs appeared instantly.
"Nitwit," he called, and a house elf popped in.
"Master Caesar calls." Its large eyes widened, though they were always like that, then it noticed the others and dipped into a bow as well. "Master Dumbledore, Mistress..."
"Some snacks and tea, please, my dear," Dumbledore said warmly, settling into a chair.
"Right away…" The elf vanished.
Maverick and Olympe also sat down, and soon their conversation drifted back to the quiet movements happening behind the scenes at the school.
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Author's Note:
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