Hogwarts: I will not become the Dark Lord

"Eh? What's with you two today?" In the Great Hall, Harry and Neville were surrounded by stacks of books, parchment and quills scattered on the table, looking exceptionally busy.

"I've found a way to get through the first task of the Triwizard Tournament!" Harry lowered his voice, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Professor Moody gave me the idea. He suggested I make full use of my advantages and strengths. What do you think my strengths are?"

"Um… Quidditch?" Hermione thought for a moment, then asked tentatively, "But you won't have a broom during the task!"

"Exactly," Harry nodded. "But we can use wands during the task. Professor Moody said we can use our wands to summon what we need, like my Firebolt!"

"So, you're… practicing the Summoning Charm?" Jerry's gaze fell on the parchment on the table, densely covered with practice notes.

"I specifically found an empty classroom and practiced all day, even forgetting to eat lunch," Harry sighed. "But even though I tried my best to concentrate all my thoughts, I always fell just short. And, I can't help but have an image of a huge dragon pop into my head, distracting me!"

"Is it that difficult?" Jerry casually spread out his right hand, and all the books and parchment on the table flew up, circled around Harry and Neville, and then neatly stacked on Jerry's palm!

"Jerry, how did you do that? Was that the Summoning Charm just now?" Harry began to suspect that Jerry's Summoning Charm and his own were not the same spell. To achieve such an effect without using a wand or incantation, with just a look, was truly unbelievable.

"The key to the Summoning Charm is concentration, clearly picturing the item you want to summon in your mind," Jerry returned the books and parchment to Harry and Neville, explaining, "This isn't some profound spell, it just takes a little time and practice. You still have two days, that's enough! If you're really worried, on the day of the task, don't leave the Firebolt in the castle. Have Neville hold it and stand in the stands."

The day of the task finally arrived. At noon, all Hogwarts classes were suspended.

"Hey, Potter, I've prepared a whole bunch of tissues for you to cry into!" Malfoy deliberately passed by Harry, mocking loudly, causing Harry to bristle with anger.

Inside the Great Hall, the warmth of lunch had not yet dissipated when Professor McGonagall approached Jerry and Harry with hurried steps and a grave expression.

"Jerry, Potter, it's time. The champions must proceed to the task grounds immediately to prepare for the first task."

Harry stood up, the fork in his hand accidentally slipping onto the plate, making a crisp clang.

Jerry also stretched and stood up leisurely from the long table.

"Good luck, Jerry!" Hermione gave Jerry a tight hug, whispering in his ear, "I believe you will win!"

Jerry felt that Hermione was even more nervous than he was!

Subsequently, Professor McGonagall led Jerry and Harry out of the hall, across the stone steps, and into the biting cold wind outside.

Inside the tent, the atmosphere was somewhat heavy.

Fleur sat in an inconspicuous corner, unusually losing her usual composure and elegance, her face as pale as paper, revealing an unspeakable tension and unease. Viktor Krum seemed even more gloomy and unpredictable, with complex emotions flashing in his eyes. Cedric, upon seeing Jerry and Harry enter the tent, smiled at them both in a friendly manner.

"Jerry!" Fleur tightly grabbed Jerry's arm upon seeing him.

"You're nervous!" Jerry pulled his arm from Fleur's embrace, put his arm around her shoulder, and said gently.

"Who wouldn't be nervous facing a dragon? Even with the best preparation!" Fleur forced a pale smile and replied softly, "Aren't you nervous at all?"

"I have a lot of confidence in my strength!" Jerry smiled, "A dragon in my eyes is no different from a fire lizard crawling on the ground!"

"Keep dreaming, little brother!" Fleur leaned on Jerry's shoulder, rolling her eyes at him. You little brat, you're three years younger than me!

After a while, Ludo Bagman walked in, once again wearing his old Wasp team uniform. The yellow and black stripes made him look like a vivid cartoon character.

Ludo Bagman looked at the time, and after confirming it was correct, he took out a delicate purple silk bag from his pocket.

"Miss Delacour, ladies first, you go first!" He smiled and handed the silk bag to Fleur.

Fleur reached out a slightly trembling hand and slowly reached into the silk bag. After a moment, she took out a small and exquisite dragon model, a lifelike Welsh Green Dragon, with a conspicuous number tag tied around its neck—number two.

"You're really lucky, the Welsh Green is one of the gentlest of all dragons. They even tend to avoid humans, almost the easiest to deal with," Jerry tried to reassure Fleur in a light tone.

"That may be so, but no dragon is easy to deal with!" Fleur sighed. "But it's still better than drawing the Hungarian Horntail. I wonder who the unlucky one will be to draw it, I hope it's not you, Jerry!"

Next, Krum also drew his challenge from the silk bag—a crimson Chinese Fireball Dragon with a number three tag around its neck.

Cedric then slowly reached into the bag and drew a silver-blue Swedish Short-Snout Dragon, numbered one, meaning he would be the first champion to accept the challenge.

When it was Harry's turn, his heart couldn't help but beat faster, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached into the silk bag, silently praying not to get the Hungarian Horntail.

But what he feared most came to pass. Harry slowly lifted a Hungarian Horntail model with outstretched wings and bared fangs from the bag, with a number four tag hanging prominently on its neck.

"Finally, it's your turn, Mr. Green!" Ludo Bagman excitedly handed the silk bag to Jerry.

Jerry didn't show any particular concern about the remaining dragon species in the bag. In an almost casual manner, he quickly reached into the silk bag, and almost instantly, Jerry grabbed a model of a Hebridean Black Dragon with black scales and purple eyes.

Its back was lined with a row of shallow but razor-sharp ridges, and the tip of its tail was a sharp arrowhead shape. Unlike the common wide wings of dragons, theirs were more like the wings of bats, thin but powerful.