How to exterminate the Death Eaters was not a concern for Harry at this moment.
He bade farewell to Veratia, walked over to where the Triwizard Cup lay nearby, bent down, and picked it up. The familiar sensation of a hook jerking behind his navel returned; Harry felt the world spin dizzily around him, and in the next instant, he appeared in the very center of the grounds.
The moment Harry appeared clutching the Triwizard Cup, waves of cheers rose from all around the stadium, each louder than the last. Mr. Weasley couldn't help but stand up, applauding Harry vigorously. Beside him, Sirius Black stood up as well, pointing both hands at Harry, looking absolutely delighted. At the same time, the band began to play Harry's victory anthem. Some students cupped their hands around their mouths, whistling to celebrate Harry's return. Students from Gryffindor rushed down from the stands, surging toward the center of the field. The Weasley twins led the charge, holding Dr. Filibuster's Fireworks in their hands; following close beside them was Cedric Diggory—that big Hufflepuff boy looked happier than anyone. Sitting beside Madame Maxime, Hagrid was also applauding Harry, shouting, "I knew yeh could do it, Harry! The Blast-Ended Skrewts couldn't stop yeh! Great job!"
Harry held the Triwizard Cup high, canceling the Portkey charm upon it, and displayed it to the surrounding crowd with overflowing passion. The cheers grew even more intense as the Gryffindor students reached the center of the field. Following behind the Weasley twins was the war correspondent Colin Creevey, clutching his camera; the lad tried to squeeze through the gap between the twins but unfortunately failed. However, the twins quickly noticed their junior's awkward predicament. They exchanged a glance, turned around, and each grabbed a leg, hoisting him onto their shoulders. "Just like that, war reporter!" Fred shouted boisterously. "You need to stand a bit higher to capture Harry's heroic form properly—the Champion of the Triwizard Tournament! The Warrior from Gryffindor! Your name will go down in Hogwarts history!" "Looks like he's going to win the Special Award for Services to the School again!" George didn't spare his praise either. "Quick, take a few more photos, Colin! And after you're done, remember to take a group photo of us with this Champion of Champions; I need to send it to my son!"
Ron had long since rushed to Harry's side, swinging his arms; he exchanged a glance with Seamus and Neville beside him, and they all let out mischievous laughs. They reached out and lifted Harry up, hoisting him high into the air. "Come give us a hand! Malfoy!" Ron didn't forget to look back and shout. At this moment, Draco had completely forgotten to spew venom at Ron; he walked over excitedly and grabbed one of Harry's arms. "Crabbe! Goyle!" Draco turned back to yell at his two followers. "Hurry up and come over here—opportunities to throw Harry Potter into the sky don't come around often..." Upon hearing this, the eyes of the people around them lit up, but Crabbe and Goyle remained unmoved, dawdling slowly toward them. Is the chance to toss Harry Potter more important than small cakes and cookies? Sigh, will there be a victory feast later? Mr. Potter won the Triwizard Tournament, so theoretically, as the host, Hogwarts must surely hold a grand celebration feast, right? They definitely will, right? Thinking of this, Crabbe and Goyle felt that joining in the celebration wasn't actually a bad idea—for the sake of this warrior who could ensure Hogwarts held a celebratory banquet! Cheers!
"Hurry up!" Draco looked back at his two dawdling followers. "Hey... Blaise, Theodore! You two come over! Hurry up!" He was calling for Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. Both were actually from ironclad Death Eater families, but as Voldemort's power waned and Harry gradually rose to prominence, they had slowly lost their loyalty to the Dark Lord. Pure-blood families were just like certain historical clans—adept at bending with the wind and siding with the victor. How did that saying go? There are no thousand-year Dark Lords, but there are thousand-year pure-blood families. Hearing Draco's call, the two Slytherin students squeezed their way over, just to rub shoulders with Harry. They actually knew of Voldemort's plan—their families had tipped them off—but they had been instructed not to leak a single word. If Harry didn't return, they would choose to follow Voldemort—but since Harry had returned, the value of Voldemort had to be reassessed. Look at you, two Dark Lords, with so many Death Eaters behind you, yet you can't even take down a fourth-year student; dozens of people fighting one and still getting the tables turned on you—are you even a Dark Lord? Stop trying to be a Dark Lord and go home!
Harry was lifted by the crowd, still clutching the Triwizard Cup in his hand. "Make sure you catch me!" he shouted loudly. "Make sure you catch me!" He wasn't actually afraid of being dropped—after all, he could perform wandless magic—but it was all for the lively atmosphere. "Don't worry, Harry!" everyone shouted back. "We'll definitely catch you! Up you go!" Harry felt a rush of centrifugal force as he was tossed high by his classmates, then caught by a multitude of hands before being thrown into the air once again. "What vibrant youth..." Professor McGonagall applauded, shaking her head on the stands, though her face was full of kindness. "Who says otherwise?" Professor Flitwick said with a laugh as he clapped beside her. "This feeling isn't bad at all, Minerva—I have a premonition that Harry will definitely become the greatest wizard of the next century!" "Indeed." Professor Sprout nodded, not forgetting to irk Snape. "What do you think? Severus?" The only answer she received was a cold "Hmph." Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick exchanged a glance and burst into laughter.
After the commotion lasted for a while, seeing Dumbledore and Veratia return to the grounds, Mr. Bagman knew the time had come. He cleared his throat and cast a Sonorus charm on himself. "Alright, students, please return to your seats in an orderly fashion. We still have to announce the final champion of the Triwizard Tournament, don't we?" "Oh, oh, oh!" The students scrambled to set Harry down and returned to their respective seats. Their faces were flushed with excitement as they chattered with the students around them, discussing the winner of the Triwizard Tournament. This was a once-in-a-century event! To witness such a grand occasion, and to see the championship belong to Hogwarts, was absolutely a story they could tell for the rest of their lives. Even the seventh-year students felt the same; although they could have left school and graduated by now, they had chosen to stay at Hogwarts temporarily to witness the final task and watch the award ceremony for Harry.
Harry clutched the trophy and looked up toward the High Table. Dumbledore was applauding him, and Veratia was doing the same. Not far away, Karkaroff finally stopped looking at him with eyes full of bitter resentment and was instead clapping happily. What was going on? Harry was a bit surprised; didn't Karkaroff always dislike him? Why would he applaud him? And look so happy about it? That's unmagical! But what he didn't know was that prior to this, Karkaroff had been tormented by the Dark Mark suddenly acting up; the sensation, like the Cruciatus Curse, had caused him immense pain. He had forced himself to endure it until now, but shortly after Viktor returned, the sensation suddenly vanished. As a Death Eater, Karkaroff knew exactly what this meant. This Hogwarts student must have dealt with that scourge, Voldemort, once again—even if he hadn't been eradicated root and branch, he had certainly been severely weakened; otherwise, the Dark Mark wouldn't have ceased its torment so easily. Therefore, based on this principle, Karkaroff genuinely applauded the Hogwarts champion. For nothing else but helping him remove such a massive calamity!
"Alright, at this thrilling moment, the Triwizard Tournament has come to a perfect conclusion," Mr. Bagman said emotionally, standing by the High Table. "With hearts full of joy, we welcome the final victor of the Triwizard Tournament—he passed the trial of the dragon, the test of the merpeople, and finally, surrounded by layers of traps, he cleared the final trial of the maze—let us congratulate him, let us shout his name, his name is—" "Harry Potter!" A deafening sound erupted from all sides of the stadium. "Harry Potter! Harry Potter!" The voices came in waves, one surpassing the other, until Mr. Bagman had to call for a halt. "So, let us congratulate the final champion of this Triwizard Tournament—the Warrior from Hogwarts, Harry Potter!" As Mr. Bagman's voice fell, trails of light with long tails rose from all directions of the grounds; they ascended into the sky and exploded with a bang, scattering into a sky full of brilliant sparks and glittering lights!
Fleur and Viktor sat in their places, looking at Harry with envy, their ears filled with the raucous cheers and the sound of fireworks. After the cheers subsided, it was time for the award ceremony. "Let us invite the special guest of this Triwizard Tournament, one of the most outstanding graduates in Hogwarts history, the Minister of the Greater German Ministry of Magic, Ms. Veratia Elizabeth Amalie Grindelwald, to present the award to the champion of this Triwizard Tournament!" As Mr. Bagman spoke, he stepped aside and gestured toward Ms. Grindelwald sitting at the High Table. Yes, after becoming the Minister of Magic, Veratia's title had automatically upgraded to 'Ms.', no longer the slightly youthful 'Miss'. "Do we need so many people for an award presentation?" Cassandra complained to Poppy Sweeting, tilting her head while she clapped, sitting in her spot. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!" Poppy Sweeting couldn't stop twitching her nose, her hands nervously picking at her fingernails as she anxiously looked at Deek; the sour smell of jealousy was practically overflowing the entire competition grounds.
Veratia stood up, bowed slightly to everyone, and then took the commemorative trophy symbolizing this Triwizard Tournament from a pretty girl beside Mr. Bagman. That trophy was a one-to-one replica of the Goblet of Fire; it felt quite heavy in the hand and was likely made of some precious metal. At the very least, it wasn't just gold-plated silver. She walked up to Harry holding the trophy. "Harry." Veratia smiled beautifully, handing the trophy to Harry with both hands. "Congratulations on becoming the champion of this Triwizard Tournament!" "Thanks," Harry said with a laugh as he accepted it, then asked, "Is giving me this trophy all you plan to do for congratulations?" "Of course, there will be more for you," Veratia gave him a charming, playful roll of her eyes. "But be careful—if Cassandra sees what I do to you, she'll be so angry her chest will explode—oh, wait, no, she doesn't have a chest, so it can't explode." "Even at a time like this, you still haven't forgotten to tease her?" Harry asked with a chuckle; Veratia was always so childish when it came to Cassandra. "Who told her to feed me Canary Creams," Veratia hmphed. "I haven't forgotten that incident... Alright, are you planning to let me keep holding this up?" "Oh." Harry finally took the trophy. At the same time, fireworks rose again, exploding in the sky, illuminating the couple and making the moment seem extraordinarily romantic.
"I shouldn't be here," Cassandra said, pouting. "I feel like I should be under the chassis of a Thestral carriage, watching the two of them being so sweet!" "Forget it," Poppy Sweeting said while clapping. "We should be happy, don't you think? Right?" "Let us congratulate him once again!" Mr. Bagman's voice rang out again. "Congratulations to the champion of this Triwizard Tournament—Harry Potter!" The cheers came wave after wave. When everyone had shouted their voices hoarse, Mr. Bagman announced again: "To celebrate the successful conclusion of this Triwizard Tournament, Hogwarts has prepared a grand banquet for everyone—now, please leave the field in an orderly manner and return to the Great Hall of Hogwarts... Please rest assured, Hogwarts is fully prepared this time; the Great Hall has been temporarily expanded to accommodate everyone dining together—of course, this wouldn't be possible without the hard work of our Hogwarts house-elves. Alright, I declare the Triwizard Tournament officially closed. Please make your way out!"
Amidst the cheers and noise, the spectators walked down from the stands and headed toward the Great Hall. Harry was the same; Ron and Hermione followed beside him, both in high spirits, constantly asking him what he had encountered in the maze. "I encountered a lot," Harry said. "There were Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts, and a Sphinx making a guest appearance—oh right, Viktor was captured by a giant spider and trapped in a spider cocoon... When I rescued him, I was thinking, it's a good thing Ron didn't participate in the tournament this time, otherwise that giant spider would definitely have caused quite a psychological shadow." "You're right, mate!" Ron couldn't bear it just thinking about it. "A giant spider, and it trapped Viktor in a cocoon? I hope that poor bloke doesn't get scarred for life by spiders from now on!"
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