Night cast a mysterious veil over the Forbidden Forest. Moonlight barely penetrated the tangled branches, leaving dappled shadows across the leaf-strewn ground.
The distant cries of unknown nocturnal birds occasionally echoed through the darkness, deepening the profound silence.
Hagrid's enormous figure looked like a moving hill in the dim light. He deliberately softened his footsteps, yet still snapped dry twigs beneath his boots with quiet crunches.
Madame Olympe walked beside him with her usual elegance, her towering figure appearing graceful and dignified in the moonlight.
Hagrid's face was somewhat flushed, though it was difficult to see clearly in the darkness. His voice, however, carried a rare tenderness and eagerness to please.
"Olympe... it's a beautiful night, isn't it? There are plenty of interesting creatures in the Forbidden Forest. If you'd like, I could bring you to see them more often..."
Hagrid rubbed his enormous hands together.
Madame Olympe tilted her head slightly and smiled, though worry lingered in her expression.
"That sounds very charming, Rubeus. I'm certain it would be both safe and interesting with you as my guide."
She paused before sighing softly.
"It's just... when I think of the Beauxbatons students, I find it difficult to appreciate the scenery. They have no idea what challenges await them, and as their Headmistress, I simply cannot put my mind at ease..."
Even in the moonlight, the flush on Hagrid's face was faintly visible. He immediately frowned in sympathy, his enormous beard trembling with the movement.
"Oh, don't worry, Olympe! Professor Dumbledore will certainly put safety first! I dare say the tasks will be difficult, but there definitely won't be any mortal danger..."
His voice trailed off as though he had suddenly remembered something, and his eyes flickered.
Madame Olympe immediately noticed his hesitation.
She stopped at once and turned towards him, her tall figure casting a long shadow in the moonlight.
Her large eyes gazed intently at him, her expression combining worry and trust.
"Rubeus," she said even more softly, with an almost imperceptible note of pleading, "we all know that you are not only Hogwarts' Care of Magical Creatures professor, but also one of Headmaster Dumbledore's most trusted people. There can be few secrets within this Castle or upon these grounds that you do not know."
She leaned forwards slightly and lowered her voice.
"Have you truly heard nothing about the first task? I don't need specific details. Even the smallest hint would help me guide the children in their preparations and put my mind somewhat at ease."
Faced with the sincere concern of the woman he admired, along with her recognition of his importance, Hagrid's already fragile defences collapsed almost instantly.
He glanced around to make certain no one was nearby, then leaned closer to Madame Olympe. In what he believed was a whisper, but which was actually loud enough for any creature with decent hearing within fifty feet to hear clearly, he said,
"All right, Olympe, but I'm only telling you. You absolutely must keep it secret! No one can know it was me who told you!"
He repeated the warning, breathing heavily with nervousness.
"It's dragons! They've brought several of them, all different breeds, and every one of them has a terrible temper. The Champions are supposed to take something from them... though I didn't hear exactly what."
A flash of shock and understanding crossed Madame Olympe's eyes, but she controlled her expression perfectly. The unusual glint vanished at once, replaced by her previous look of worried gratitude.
She extended a well-manicured hand and gently patted Hagrid's thick, muscular arm.
"Thank you, Rubeus," she said gratefully. "You cannot imagine what this means to me, or to Beauxbatons. You truly are an exceptionally reliable and trustworthy friend."
Her touch and praise flustered Hagrid so thoroughly that a foolish grin, mingling happiness and shyness, spread across his face.
Any lingering guilt he had felt over revealing the secret was immediately forgotten. His chest swelled with delight, and he considered it a great honour to have helped ease Olympe's worries.
...
In Gryffindor Tower, the fire in the common room had burned low, leaving only a few glowing embers.
Most of the students had already returned to their dormitories, but three figures, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, remained huddled together in a corner.
They were squeezed onto an armchair, each with a thick book open across their lap.
The news about the dragons burned in Harry's mind like a red-hot brand, leaving him restless.
He needed to do something, but they had searched through countless books without finding any practical way to deal with dragons. There were some methods, of course, but most required seven or eight Wizards casting together before they became effective.
With a sigh, Harry carefully pulled the worn parchment from the pocket of his robes once again.
Countless tiny ink dots marked with names moved across its surface.
Harry's gaze first fell upon the Durmstrang ship anchored on the Black Lake.
He carefully searched for the dot representing Karkaroff.
There were not many names aboard the ship, most of them belonging to Durmstrang students. Viktor Krum's name remained inside one of the cabins, apparently resting.
But where was Igor Karkaroff?
Harry's heart skipped a beat. His name was nowhere on the ship.
"He's left the ship again?"
Harry tensed as an ominous feeling rose within him.
Ron and Hermione immediately leaned closer, their eyes fixed on the Marauder's Map.
"Again?" Ron asked tensely. "Where could he possibly be at this hour?"
They quickly turned their attention towards Snape's office in the dungeons.
This time, the name Severus Snape stood alone inside the office, completely motionless.
Perhaps he was marking essays.
Or perhaps he was developing a new Potion formula.
Whatever the case, it was somewhat reassuring that he was alone, with no sign of Karkaroff.
"He didn't go to see Snape..." Hermione murmured, her brow still furrowed as she continued scanning every corner of the map.
Suddenly, her gaze stopped on a small room not far from Snape's office.
It was Snape's private Potions storeroom, rumoured to contain many precious, rare, and even dangerous ingredients.
"Wait!" Hermione gasped, her finger trembling as she pointed towards it. "Here! Look!"
Harry and Ron followed her finger.
Inside the small square representing the Potions storeroom, a name was clearly written:
Barty Crouch.
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