Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

Harry stared at the spot on his leg where he’d been injured, as if he could make flowers bloom from it.

In reality, the deep wound, which had been visible down to the bone, had already healed without a trace, and even the tear in his pants had been mended with a Repairing Charm. He was just silently staring at the scar, with a cold sweat trickling down his back.

It wasn’t that the wound still hurt; it was more that the air inside the tent seemed frozen, and the silent, boiling anger made Harry feel like he was sitting on pins and needles.

Due to Vid’s scheme, most of the people in this tent had been eliminated—though they probably wouldn’t have had a chance to make it to the second task anyway—but regardless, Harry felt every stare around him was like a thorn.

He glanced enviously to the left. Cedric, who was still regrowing his bones, groaned in pain even in his sleep. Perhaps because he looked so wretched, even the other champions couldn’t bear to be hostile towards him.

Harry enviously looked to the right, where Vid, the true focus of everyone’s resentment, sat. He was calmly fiddling with the Golden Egg, completely oblivious—or rather, dismissive—of the surrounding stares.

Somehow, it seemed like others were even angrier...

Suddenly, Vid seemed to sense Harry’s prolonged gaze and turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow as he asked, ”What is it?”

”Nothing...”

Harry sighed, bowed his head again, and began picking at a loose thread on his sleeve, enduring the torment while waiting for the moment he could leave.

Vid studied the Golden Egg for a while, pondering the Magic Text and Alchemy Technique used on it, and then he happily put it into his pocket and glanced around.

The furious, discontent, hateful, and challenging gazes clashed with Vid’s. Some instinctively reached for their Magic Wands.

But when faced with those calm, lake-like gray eyes, their gazes involuntarily flickered.

Honestly, losing to a boy younger than most of them and still pestering after being defeated truly lacked grace.

Not everyone present had been eliminated by Vid; some were merely curious about Vid and weren’t looking to settle scores with the one who defeated them.

Though Vid Gray’s ruthlessness in outmaneuvering opponents in the Chamber of Secret was a bit excessive, who wasn’t eager to showcase their skills before the competition? Besides, every school tried every means to cheat before the match. Who was really cleaner than anyone else?

Vid Gray was simply more skillful and decisive.

Understanding this, some pretended to fix their hair, others stared at their wounds, and some sheepishly set down their Magic Wands. In silence, the atmosphere turned somewhat subtle.

Suddenly, the tense silence in the tent was broken by a rush of footsteps. The entrance curtain flew open, and two bloodied champions stumbled in, supported by their classmates.

The newcomers looked exceptionally disheveled, but the gleam in their eyes starkly contrasted with the tent’s dejected, defeated contestants.

Leading the way was Natalia from Kodostorians, her Robe mostly charred, her right arm hanging limply, clearly broken. Her intact left hand tightly clutched a Golden Egg as she cheerfully spoke to the person beside her:

”Haha, when I drew number five, I thought it was over! I thought the Golden Egg would be taken by the time I made it past the Fire Dragon... But I didn’t expect there’d be so many left! I found one right away!”

Following closely was Adam from Ilvermorny; he smiled warmly, the Golden Egg brightening his weary face a bit.

Upon seeing the crowd in the tent, Adam’s expression momentarily froze, and he quickly hinted to Natalia to stop talking.

But Natalia didn’t notice at all and excitedly continued chatting with her friend: ”It’s so weird! The Golden Egg’s hiding place wasn’t even that secret! Why couldn’t the earlier champions find it... Did the Fire Dragon eliminate most of them?”

The tent fell silent, and everyone gazed at her with eyes full of resentment, jealousy, and frustration.

Her friend, who had seen the live broadcast, could easily guess that the others’ moods were probably dreadful, and quickly called out, ”Natalia!”

”What is it, so loudly?”

Natalia was startled, turning to find the tent filled with injured people lying haphazardly. Seeing their angry and sullen faces, she instantly quieted down.

Her fingers tightened around the Golden Egg, and she swallowed nervously.

The air was thick with stifling awkwardness. Eventually, two or three more people entered, each holding a Golden Egg and looking pleased.

They were much more perceptive than Natalia, or perhaps, after discovering numerous unclaimed Golden Eggs inside the scorpion, they realized the elimination rate might be unexpectedly high this time.

So, no one bragged. As they entered, they quickly concealed their smiles and casually tucked the Golden Eggs into their pockets, proceeding nonchalantly to the remaining empty beds.

[Chinatsu... are you okay?] Kitajima Rikka from the Magic Institute approached a sickbed, cautiously asking in Japanese.

Asada Chinatsu shrank beneath the covers, forcing a smile with dim eyes as she replied: [Congratulations on getting the Golden Egg.]

[You...] Kitajima Rikka didn’t ask if she got a Golden Egg, choosing instead to sit silently by her side.

On the other side, Clementine from Beauxbatons didn’t dare ask Fleur Delacour anything—Fleur seemed intent on smothering herself under her blanket, and her shiny silver hair now looked dirty and unkempt.

But Jabari from Uagadou, after his wounds healed, went to embrace Babua first, exchanged a few words, and then sat by Amina’s bed to comfort her, only to be angrily shooed away by the girl.

After a while, Ludo Bagman cheerfully jumped into the tent, beaming with delight.

”Marvelous, marvelous! Kids, you’ve all done exceptionally well! Of course, those who got the Golden Egg are even more outstanding. Even if it was...”

He quickly glanced at Vid, then scanned the other uncertain faces.

”Even if it was due to luck—who’s to say that luck isn’t a part of skill? Haha!”

Bagman’s laughter sounded especially out-of-place in the heavy atmosphere, and he quickly realized it, clearing his throat and rubbing his hands as he continued:

”Wounded competitors, please rest assured; I promise you won’t have to pay a cent for your treatment. Those whose wounds have healed can leave now.”

”Competitors who got the Golden Egg—oh, except for Mr. Digory, I suppose he still can’t stand—please follow me.”

One by one, the champions stood up and, under the complex gazes of the crowd, followed Bagman out of the tent.