Vol 2 Chapter 564: Game start

In fact, Tuesday was not a pleasant day for Harry.
If possible, Fanlin would rather pass the first level instead of Harry.
However, this is destined to be only an idea.
He could only let Harry master the spell, the Eye Curse or the Thing Fly Curse as much as possible.
He can only do this.
Harry wasn't in a good mood, even though he had prepared so much, he couldn't motivate him a little when he thought of those guys.
After all, it is a dragon. Even if the wizard has successfully conquered, the power of the dragon...
It still made Harry feel bad.
Whether the people around him wished him luck or hissed dissatisfiedly as he passed by, "We will prepare a box of rescue gauze, Potter," Harry felt extraordinarily lonely.
The tension was so strong, he wondered if he would lose control when he was led to see the dragon, cursing loudly everyone he saw.
Time seemed to travel in a way never before, piece by piece, one minute before three people were still sitting in the first class of magic history, the next minute he went to have lunch, and then (what is the morning? Spent? Where did you go in the last few hours before seeing the fire dragon?)
Professor McGonagall was hurriedly approaching him in the Great Hall. Many people around have seen it.
"Potter, the warriors are going to the playground now. You have to prepare for the first task."
"Okay," Harry replied. He stood up, and the pork he was eating fell back into the plate with a snap.
"Good luck, Harry," Hermione said, "you will do it!"
"Yes!" Harry said, but his voice was nothing like usual.
Fanlin looked at Harry with some worry, but Harry was so nervous that he forgot to say goodbye to them.
He and Professor McGonagall left the hall.
Professor McGonagall also seemed very uncomfortable. In fact, she looked as nervous as Hermione.
Professor McGonagall and Harry walked down the stone steps and were about to enter the playground on that cold November afternoon, when she put her hand on his shoulder.
"Now, don't lie," she said. "Keep your head calm. If the situation gets out of control, we will have wizards to control the situation. The main thing is to try our best to do your best. No one will look down on you. Ok?"
"Yes," Harry heard himself say, "Yes, I'm fine."
She led him to the dragon's hiding place, along the edge of the forest, but when they approached the walled bushes, Harry saw a newly erected tent whose population was facing them, covering the dragon.
"You and the other warriors go in from here," Professor McGonagall said in a trembling voice, "and then when it's your turn, Mr. Bagmon will be there too. He will tell you, tell you the procedure, and good luck. Luck."
Professor McGonagall obviously knew what Harry had to face, but that didn't change the situation.
"Thank you," Harry said, his voice flat and cold.
She left at the entrance of the tent.
Harry entered. Victor Krum looked more arrogant than usual, and Harry thought that was his way of nervousness.
Cedric paced back and forth. When Harry entered, Cedric smiled at him. Harry smiled back, but felt that the muscles on Cedric's face were so stiff, as if he had forgotten how to make a smile.
"Harry! Oh, all right!" Bagmon said happily, looking him up and down, "Come in, just like in your own home!"
Bagmon stood among the group of all pale-faced warriors, a bit like an oversized cartoon character. He put on his old wasp robe again.
"Okay, now everyone is here--it's time to start!" Bagmon said briskly. "When the audience is all there, I will bring this bag in front of you."--He held up a little purple The little silk bag shook to the four of them—"You have to choose a model from the bag, then the enemy you will face later! Everyone’s is different—well—you know, There are tricks. And I have to tell you something else. Ah, by the way, your task is to get the golden egg!"
Harry glanced aside. Cedric nodded once to show that he understood Bagmon's words, and then began to pace around the tent; he looked a little blue.
Fleur Delacour and Krum did not respond at all.
Maybe they thought they would be uncomfortable if they opened their mouths, that's what Harry felt. But at least they did it voluntarily...
Within a short time, I heard hundreds of footsteps passing by the tent. Those people were talking, laughing, and arguing excitedly. They were only separated by an account, but they felt extremely far away from the group of people, as if they were another species general.
Then—it seemed only a second to Harry—Bagomon opened the mouth of the little purple silk bag.
"Ladies first," he said, handing the bag to Fleur Delacour.
She shook her hands into the bag, and found a small, perfect dragon model-a Welsh green dragon with a number around its neck.
She already knew what she was going to face. Fanlin told Fleur that they were friends and Mrs. Maxim. From beginning to end, if Harry didn’t talk to Diggory, only Cedric would be nothing. Known.
Fleur Delacour was not surprised, but had a resigned look.
Krum's reaction proved that Harry was right again, as expected. What he pulled out was a scarlet Chinese fire dragon with a number 3 on his neck.
He didn't blink, he just stared at the ground.
Cedric reached into the bag and found out a blue-gray Swedish short-nosed dragon with the number 1. Knowing that there was only one 4 left, Harry put his hand in the silk bag and took out a Hungarian horn-tailed dragon, needless to say The number is 4. When Harry looked down at it, it reported with outstretched wings and small fangs.
"Okay, you all have it!" Bagmon said, "Everyone has drawn out the dragons to face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you want to fight the dragons, understand? Now I will go out and leave some time for You guys, I'm going out to explain~EbookFREE.me~Mr. Diggory, you are the first one. Go out of the tent and go inside the wall when you hear the whistle, okay? Now, Harry, I can tell you something A word? Come outside."
"Well, okay," Harry said blankly, and he got up, followed Bagmon out of the tent, and walked a short distance to the woods.
Bagmont turned to him, with a fatherly caring look on his face.
"How do you feel, Harry? Is there anything I can do for you?"
"What?" Harry said. "I—no, no need."
"Have you figured out a countermeasure?" Bagmon said again, lowering his voice like an accomplice.
"Because I don't mind sharing a little bit of information, if you need it, you know. I mean," Bagmon continued, his voice lowered, "You are a disadvantaged person here, if there is anything I can help Just say if you are busy."
"No," Harry, refusing so fast that he felt too rude, "No need—I—I have decided what to do, thank you." 7110