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"Director! Director, a little help here!"
Ludo Bagman's voice echoed over the Quidditch Pitch, laced with urgency.
On the giant screen, the footage began to rewind rapidly.
Time rewound to an hour earlier—
Lynn, who had just obtained his first golden egg from the Troll, stood at the cave entrance. He looked down at his prize, then up at the other locations marked on the map projection.
He chose the point furthest from his current position, tucked the map away, and set off, slowly disappearing into the woods.
"So Lynn is heading for the next objective," Ludo's commentary came in smoothly. "It looks like quite a long trek… wait, what is he doing?"
In the footage, Lynn suddenly came to a halt.
He stood still, tilting his head slightly to the right, his gaze fixed in a certain direction.
The camera zoomed in along his line of sight—
In the distance, sunlight filtered through the treetops, reflecting off something with a faint shimmering glint.
It was a lake.
Not large, but deep enough. The surface was as calm as a mirror, with the occasional breeze sending faint ripples across it.
Lynn's eyes lit up.
"No way…" Ludo's tone turned subtle. "He couldn't be thinking of—"
Before he could finish, Lynn had already changed direction and was striding straight toward the lake.
A wave of whispers spread through the stands.
"Is he going to fish?"
"The competition is still going on! He hasn't even collected all the golden eggs yet!"
"What is he trying to do…?"
On the big screen, Lynn walked to the lakeside and stopped.
He scanned the surroundings—the trees along the shore, the grass beneath his feet—then drew his wand.
"He's casting a spell!" Ludo shouted. "Transfiguration! He's turning a branch into—"
In the video, the ordinary branch transformed into a sleek fishing rod in an instant under the force of Transfiguration. Then came the grass—several blades lifted into the air, weaving together into a thin fishing line.
Next, a patch of soil was flipped up, exposing a few wriggling earthworms, which Lynn casually threaded onto the hook.
The entire process was smooth and effortless.
The stands fell into an eerie silence.
"He… he's really fishing," Ludo's voice sounded dazed.
On the screen, Lynn sat on a flat rock, cast his line, and let it drop into the water.
The bobber floated quietly on the lake's surface.
He crossed his arms and stared at that small dot without moving.
Time passed slowly, minute by minute.
Only the sound of water lapping the shore and distant bird calls filled the air.
"Uh…" Ludo said dryly. "Mr. Lynn seems to be… genuinely enjoying himself. While we don't quite understand why he's fishing in the middle of a competition, it… at least shows he's very relaxed?"
In the stands, Edgar and the others quietly covered their faces.
On the screen, Lynn remained motionless like a statue.
Five minutes passed.
Ten minutes passed.
Fifteen minutes passed.
Just as the audience began to wonder if he had fallen asleep, the bobber suddenly jerked downward!
Lynn moved.
He leaned back, arms tightening, and the fishing rod bent into a dramatic arc.
"He's got something!" Ludo's voice rose sharply. "A big one!"
The water's surface exploded.
Amid splashing waves, a golden shape burst out, tracing an arc through the air before—
Splat!
It landed on the grass at Lynn's feet.
The camera zoomed in.
It wasn't a fish—it was a golden egg.
The entire stadium went silent.
On the screen, Lynn looked down at the egg, then at the calm lake, a look of exasperation flashing across his face.
Ludo stood in the commentary box, opening and closing his mouth several times before finally forcing out:
"Let us congratulate Mr. Lynn on successfully obtaining the second golden egg of this match. His progress is now far ahead. Although the method of obtaining it is… somewhat different from what the organizing committee originally intended."
…
After a brief moment of questioning his life choices, Lynn set off again.
He stuffed both golden eggs into his pocket, patted them to make sure they wouldn't fall out, then reopened the map projection to confirm his direction and continued forward.
This time, the terrain was far from easy.
The light in the valley was noticeably dimmer, and the air had grown much colder.
As he walked, Lynn suddenly shivered and stopped, rubbing his arms.
"Strange… it wasn't this cold just a moment ago."
He looked around. The valley walls on both sides were covered in a thin layer of moss, icicles hanging from rock crevices. Fallen leaves beneath his feet were coated in frost, crunching under each step.
The temperature was at least ten degrees lower than before.
"What's going on?" Lynn muttered, raising his wand and pointing it at himself.
A soft red glow spread from the tip of the wand, enveloping him and dispelling the chill.
He stood there hesitating for a moment.
According to the map, the next objective wasn't far ahead. But this strange drop in temperature—was it natural, or was something waiting up ahead?
Should I… turn back?
Just as the thought formed—
Vwoom—
A sharp sound cutting through the air came from ahead.
Lynn looked up.
In the distance, three dark figures were racing along the valley's contours at incredible speed.
The giant screen at the Quidditch Pitch immediately switched view.
"Look!" Ludo's voice rose. "The three Hogwarts champions are moving so fast—no, wait, they're being chased!"
Harry was on his broom, hunched low over the handle. His face was strained by the wind, his glasses crooked, eyes wide.
Less than twenty meters behind him were Cedric and Roger Davies. Both looked equally disheveled, robes flapping wildly, hair whipped across their faces.
Lynn narrowed his eyes. Just as he was about to raise a hand in greeting, Harry spotted him.
Harry's eyes widened further. He opened his mouth and shouted at full volume:
"RUN—!!!"
The sound echoed through the valley.
Lynn froze for a moment.
"We got a golden egg from a Norwegian Ridgeback Dragon!" Harry shouted again. "It's chasing us—!!!"
No sooner had he spoken—
Roar—!!!
A deafening dragon roar exploded behind them, echoing through the valley. The sound carried a bone-chilling cold that seemed to freeze the air itself.
Lynn's gaze shifted past the trio.
A massive creature rounded the valley bend.
Even larger than a Hungarian Horntail, its body was covered in ice-blue scales that gleamed sharply in the light. Its wings stretched wide, each beat scattering frost and snow.
A Norwegian Ridgeback Dragon.
At that moment, its slit pupils were locked onto the fleeing trio, fury burning within them.
In its mouth, a sphere of fire condensed rapidly.
Roar—
In an instant fire erupted, surging toward Cedric and the others.
Lynn sighed and drew a circle on the ground with his wand.
The circle was precise—perfectly encompassing the three flying figures, no more and no less.
With a flick of his wrist, Lynn lifted his wand.
"Protego Diabolica!"
BOOM—!!!
Blazing flames erupted. The fire wall rose instantly, and the surrounding air ignited, heat distorting the very air itself.
The scene was clearly captured on the giant screen at the Quidditch Pitch.
A chorus of gasps erupted from the stands.
At the judges' table, everyone except Dumbledore froze in shock.
"That—" Karkaroff stammered.