[99] The Champion's Shadow

Previously, Hall had suggested to the house-elf that some of the school desserts could be made sweeter, since everyone has different tastes. As soon as he spoke, the house-elf in charge of desserts began screaming and punishing himself in various ways — pinching his head against the oven door, comparing the hardness of his head to the cutting board, and so on. Hall finally reprimanded him sternly, and only then did the house-elf stop, crying. Since then, Hall hadn't dared to offer any suggestions.

"I'm going back to eat now," Hall said, eagerly returning to his seat.

Draco sat nearby, listlessly stabbing at a piece of steak on his plate with his fork. He couldn't eat anything. He really missed his mother's little cake.

"A little cake!" Draco stared incredulously at the cake that had suddenly appeared in front of him.

Hall quickly pulled him back. "Your mother asked me to bring this for you," he explained softly.

Draco's eyes lit up, and he eagerly opened the box, placing the delicious little cakes in front of him. He picked one up and took a careful bite. "Hall, what would I do without you?!" Draco's expression was so happy he was almost crying.

Suddenly, his face turned serious. He sat up straight and looked at Hall. "Hall, how much would it cost? Could you send me my mum's little cakes once a week?" He looked at Hall pitifully.

"I can't. Begging me won't work." Hall cruelly pushed Draco away, decisively refusing. If he agreed, he would be blatantly telling everyone he had ways to get in and out of Hogwarts. It was practically asking Dumbledore for a beating.

Hall took one of each type of cake from the table and placed them in front of him. Then, amidst the pained expressions of his classmates, he ate with relish. Five or six cakes were devoured in no time. Hall felt his life was complete. Sweets really were the most wonderful thing in the world.

When I become the richest wizard, I'll definitely open a huge cake shop in Diagon Alley, he thought to himself.

Clang, clang, clang.

Dumbledore stood up on the main stage and tapped his cup. The crisp sound echoed throughout the Great Hall. "Quiet, everyone, quiet." He drew the attention of all the students. "Now, I have something to announce."

Hall's heart skipped a beat. His brow furrowed involuntarily. He instinctively glanced back in the direction of George and Fred, and sure enough, the two of them were beaming with excitement. This must be the matter they hadn't finished discussing earlier.

"This school year, this castle will not only be your home, but also the home of some very special guests." Dumbledore paused, and the students below began to murmur. "Hogwarts has been chosen to host a highly prestigious tournament — a tournament with a history spanning seven hundred years —"

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Hall's heart skipped a beat. A name quickly flashed through his mind. But the timing was wrong — the tournament shouldn't be held until next year.

"The Triwizard Tournament!" Dumbledore announced loudly.

As expected. Hall's pupils contracted sharply.

"Wow!" The students cheered. Hearing the name, the students were a mix of confusion and excitement.

"The Triwizard Tournament is a series of magical competitions between the three schools: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang." Dumbledore's voice echoed throughout the Great Hall, his expression serious and solemn.

Dumbledore's announcement silenced the hall.

"Each school will select one of its best students to represent them in the competition." Dumbledore's face swept seriously over all the students present, as if he could see right through them. "The chosen one must rely on their own strength and courage, facing the challenge alone." His tone grew sterner. "I solemnly remind you that those who are not mentally strong are not suitable to participate."

"We will discuss the specific details of the competition later." Dumbledore concluded. "Now, let us focus on preparing Hogwarts, so that we can greet the other two schools in our best form next Wednesday."

As his words fell, the entire Great Hall erupted in enthusiastic applause and cheers. The older students stood up, clapping and screaming excitedly, including even the usually aloof Slytherins. The younger students, however, looked confused and bewildered, staring blankly at the older students who were now in a frenzy.

Dumbledore smiled and nodded, then left first. His departure did not quell the students' enthusiasm. On the contrary, they began to chatter animatedly about the upcoming tournament. The Great Hall was filled with noise; everyone was filled with curiosity and anticipation.

Hall, Draco, and the others walked along the corridor. Quidditch team captain Marcus Flint explained to them what the Triwizard Tournament was and why they were so excited.

"You mean this tournament is held every five years?" Draco sensed something was amiss. He looked at Hall, a hint of doubt and unease in his eyes. Recent events at home gave him a bad feeling that something was brewing beneath the calm surface.

"Yes, according to the normal schedule, it should be held next year," Marcus Flint said casually, oblivious to the anomaly.

"It doesn't matter whether it's held this year or next year. The most important thing is that Hall remembers to attend Quidditch practice." Marcus Flint patted Hall on the shoulder, speaking earnestly. "What could be more important than Quidditch?"

Oliver Wood, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, happened to walk over from the other side. Before Hall could answer, Flint rushed over and started arguing with Wood, the two exchanging insults. Both were full of fighting spirit for this year's Quidditch match.

Hall watched Flint's departing figure, sighing inwardly. He wondered what their expressions would be when they learned that holding the Triwizard Tournament would cancel this year's Quidditch. Thinking of this, Hall felt a sense of helplessness.

He shook his head and pulled Draco back to the common room.

Draco was still confused, muttering to himself, "Why would a competition that hasn't changed in over seven hundred years be moved up suddenly?"

Hall's voice sounded languid, but his words left Draco bewildered. "Someone must have needed it moved up."

"Someone? Who?"

Not only Draco, but Blaise was also filled with curiosity.