Harry Potter and the Ambitious Girl

For Harry, these were the worst days since he started at the school.

Despite not having entered his name in the Goblet of Fire willingly, hardly anyone believed him.

The Hufflepuffs showed him hostility, and the Ravenclaws looked at him with disdain.

While he was used to animosity from Slytherin, being treated as an enemy by the other two houses—ones he had generally gotten along with—was particularly painful.

Only a handful of people believed that Harry hadn't put his name into the Goblet.

First, there was Mad-Eye Moody.

According to him, it was possible that someone with malicious intent had entered Harry's name, aiming to harm him. Having a teacher who believed in him and supported his claim was an immense relief for Harry.

Then there were Dumbledore and McGonagall.

Although they hadn't explicitly expressed trust in him yet, Harry had faith that they would believe him. There was an unshakable sense of trust he had in these two.

Next came Hermione, Edith, and Ron.

Even in these dire circumstances, Hermione and Edith continued to worry about him, as did Ron. Edith, despite being a Slytherin, refused to wear the "Support Cedric Diggory" or "Potter Stinks" badges that Malfoy had created. Harry couldn't help but think Malfoy could learn a thing or two from her.

Lastly, there was Mirabel.

Surprisingly, she didn't think Harry had entered himself, either. According to her, "Potter doesn't have the skill for that," a remark Harry couldn't argue with. Still, trusting Mirabel entirely would be risky. She seemed to enjoy the chaos of the situation, making her, in some ways, even more troublesome than Malfoy.

The days were unbearably uncomfortable, with so few allies.

That alone was enough to weigh on Harry, but the situation only kept worsening. Rita Skeeter, a tabloid journalist, wrote one baseless article after another, making Harry's life even harder. Thinking about facing the upcoming task in such miserable conditions made his head spin.

If only someone—anyone—could take his place.

"The first task involves dragons. I have to outwit a dragon."

Harry made this statement by the lake in the school grounds.

With him were Hermione, Ron, Edith, and Edith's friend Mirabel. These four—though Mirabel was somewhat debatable—were among the few who believed in him. He shared the daunting details of the upcoming task with them.

While champions weren't supposed to know the task until it began, cheating had always been a tradition. Thanks to Hagrid, Harry learned about it ahead of time.

However, knowing didn't make the task any easier.

"Also, Sirius thinks it might have been Karkaroff who put my name in the Goblet," Harry added.

Although Harry didn't have many allies within the castle, his godfather, Sirius Black, was a steadfast supporter outside of it. According to Sirius, Karkaroff, a former Death Eater, was a suspect and should be watched carefully. He even suggested that Mad-Eye Moody's appointment as a teacher this year might have been to keep an eye on Karkaroff.

Hermione, though surprised by the information, insisted that the dragon problem was more immediate.

"Let's make sure you're still alive after Tuesday night. Then we can worry about Karkaroff."

"True, surviving the dragon is the priority," Edith agreed. "If you die in dragon fire, you won't have to worry about Karkaroff at all."

Hermione and Edith turned to Mirabel, who didn't say much but gave a small nod, indicating her agreement.

With that, the group shifted their focus to the pressing issue of how Harry could possibly outsmart a dragon with his limited skills.

"How can you outwit a dragon?"

Hermione spoke up, sharing what she had read in a book. "Dragons are so magically resilient that most spells don't work on them. It takes half a dozen wizards casting Stunning Spells to even knock one out."

The more she explained, the more impossible the task seemed. Big, powerful, fire-breathing, nearly impervious to magic—how was a fourth-year like Harry supposed to defeat such a beast?

If anyone among them could achieve such a feat, it was probably Mirabel. As this thought crossed their minds, all eyes turned to her.

"How would Beresford fight?"

"There are several ways. If it were me, I'd choose complete obliteration head-on. I'd relentlessly unleash offensive spells until the dragon was utterly destroyed."

Harry's question was met with an answer from Mirabel that seemed utterly impossible for him. Knowing her, she might genuinely be capable of such a feat, but it was Harry who had to face the task. Suggestions beyond his capabilities weren't helpful. Edith pressed her fingers to her forehead, exasperated, and said:

"That's something only you could do. Got anything simpler?"

"If we lower the difficulty a bit, there's the Conjunctivitis Curse. While dragons are generally resistant to magic, their eyes are a weak point. If you aim the curse at their eyes, it'll undoubtedly work. It's not a particularly difficult spell, so if you start practicing now, you might manage to learn it. However, you'll need to watch out for the dragon thrashing around in pain."

Mirabel raised a single finger as she presented the first solution. With at least one viable option on the table, Harry felt as though a small ray of hope had appeared.

"Next is a method to disrupt the dragon's thoughts. Again, you'll need to target its eyes. Use a Confusion Charm or an Enchantment Spell to disorient it and prevent it from thinking clearly. It's not flashy but is a reliable approach."

Mirabel raised a second finger, signaling the next solution. Once again, Harry was reminded of how formidable she was as an ally. However, her aptitude also highlighted why she was such a nightmare as an opponent, as she had been during last year's Quidditch matches.

"Then there's the distraction tactic. Essentially, create something to draw the dragon's attention away from you. You could transfigure nearby objects into animals or conjure birds from your wand. That said, dragons can be unpredictable, so this method lacks certainty. Combining it with an Obscuring Spell would make it more effective, but… well, there's no way you can master that in time."

"…Yeah," Harry muttered.

"Honestly, I wouldn't recommend this method. It's lacking in safety, reliability, and practicality—not to mention, it's unimpressive. If you're aiming for high marks, there's a far sharper, more fitting strategy for you."

Raising her third finger, Mirabel introduced the fourth and final solution. A sly smile crept across her lips as she presented what seemed like the most impossible option.

"—A frontal breakthrough. This has the most impact and is the best way to score high marks. Face the overwhelming challenge without fear, without retreating, hiding, or running away. Stand tall, confront the dragon head-on, and break through with courage. Ultimately, that's what the audience wants to see. A mundane, uneventful solution pales in comparison to a thrilling, edge-of-your-seat spectacle."

Mirabel raised her fourth finger, but Hermione immediately shouted, "That's impossible!"

"That's something only you can do! How on earth is Harry supposed to take on a dragon head-on?!"

"Listen to the end, Granger," Mirabel replied, grinning. "I said breakthrough, not 'defeat.'"

Hermione looked ready to snap, but Mirabel's grin only widened. Despite the various strategies she had suggested, she was convinced that this was the most realistic, fitting, and impactful option for Harry. Reflecting on it, Mirabel realized that even the imposter Moody must have recognized Harry's potential and carefully tailored this solution to suit him.

Given Harry's current skills and strengths, this approach was undoubtedly the best. If she taught him now, he could use the extra time to practice, and with his natural flying talent, he might even surpass expectations. Mirabel wanted to see Harry rise to that potential.

"Let me show you how it's done... Accio Silver Arrow!"

As Mirabel incanted the spell, a Silver Arrow broomstick shot out from the castle window. It zipped across the school grounds, knocking over an unsuspecting Malfoy along the way, before landing firmly in her hand.

This was Harry's best option—the perfect solution.

"A Summoning Charm!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Exactly. It's one of the few spells taught at your level that you can still master in time. Use it to summon your broom and break through the dragon's defenses. It's the method that suits you best, Potter."

With that, Mirabel climbed onto the Silver Arrow. Then, without warning, she grabbed Edith by the waist and pulled her onto the broom as well. It seemed the conversation was over; the next class was about to begin.

"Well, the choice of method is up to you."

With just those parting words, Mirabel soared into the sky.

There was no longer any issue regarding the first task. Once Harry had a broomstick, he would undoubtedly succeed. Thus, there was no cause for concern. Conversely, if he failed even after being given this much help, it would merely reveal his limits. Either way, there was nothing more Mirabel could do.

"Hey, Mirabel."

"Hmm?"

Re-entering the school through the window and helping Edith dismount, Mirabel heard her speak in a tone that barely concealed her confusion. After sending the broomstick back to its original position with magic, Mirabel turned to face her.

"You've been unusually kind... like, really considerate toward Harry. Did something happen?"

"...Who knows?"

Mirabel rarely offered assistance to others.

Especially not to the extent of explicitly presenting answers as she had this time. Just last year, she dismissed the rescue of Buckbeak with a single "Too troublesome," yet here she was, acting entirely unlike herself. Edith couldn't help but question such an uncharacteristic display of concern.

"Sometimes, I feel like doing things like this. A mere whim, you could say."

"Suspicious."

"My, how distrusting you are."

Smirking at Edith's skeptical gaze, Mirabel walked down the hallway. In truth, Edith's suspicions were spot on—Mirabel's uncharacteristic behavior was indeed driven by ulterior motives. But there was no need to explain that in detail. Without addressing Edith's doubts, Mirabel entered the classroom for their next lesson.

At a grand white villa towering over Magnolia Crescent, the interior had ceased to resemble a typical home.

Furniture like tables and chairs, along with decorative armor, had been removed entirely. Even the carpets covering the floors were stripped away.

In their place were grandiose magical circles drawn across the floors, while the walls were inscribed with ominous, indecipherable characters, unreadable to Muggles. Strange apparatuses were arranged throughout the room, each emitting an eerie magical aura.

Surveying the setup with satisfaction, Mirabel, who had briefly returned via a cabinet, nodded approvingly.

"Everything seems to be in order. Well done, both of you."

"We are honored by your praise."

At her words of commendation, Quirrell bowed deeply, and the man beside him, Holger, also lowered his head reverently.

Then, raising his face, Holger hesitantly spoke.

"But, my lady... are you truly going to proceed with this?"

"Do you object, Quirrell?"

"N-No... but the method you are pursuing for immortality is, well, incomplete. Historically, no one has ever achieved true immortality through it."

Despite fearing her wrath, Quirrell dared to voice his concerns. Mirabel responded with a cold smile.

Indeed, the immortality method Mirabel had discovered was incomplete. That was precisely why Voldemort had dismissed it entirely.

"True enough. Attempting to achieve such a state through ritual is audacious, to say the least.

The entity in question typically manifests naturally in individuals with the right traits, using blood as a medium to absorb and merge the life and souls of others. It's essentially a kind of spontaneous mutation.

Attempts to artificially replicate this have always resulted in failure. What emerges is invariably a degraded imitation, unworthy of being called a true entity."

The form Mirabel sought to attain already existed in the magical world—a creature of great renown, still considered a top-tier monstrosity. But all that currently existed were pale imitations.

The true original was not such a diluted being. It was stronger, faster, brimming with unparalleled magical power, and capable of crushing the will to fight with its mere presence. That was the ultimate apex predator Mirabel aimed to become.

To achieve this, she had scoured every resource and delved into every dark art she could find. Her studies extended beyond Hogwarts and Durmstrang, taking her across the world to gather knowledge from the great magical nations of France and Russia.

"But I succeeded. I unraveled the mechanism behind the 'accidental' occurrence and discovered a way to artificially create it."

"My lady! Forgive me, but the most critical component is missing! Only those with the natural aptitude can achieve such a transformation. This ritual lacks any means to overcome that flaw!"

"Quirinus Quirrell."

Mirabel silenced him with a single sharp glare, a sly smile playing on her lips.

It was a smile radiating absolute confidence and arrogance, proclaiming her infallibility.

"Say my name."

"W-What?"

"What's wrong? Can't you answer your mistress's name?"

"N-No! You are Lady Mirabel Beresford! Our great and magnificent mistress!"

"Good. Then there's nothing to worry about." Mirabel grinned predatorily, baring her canines.

She was no ordinary person. She was the supreme existence, born to surpass all others.

"Exactly. I am Mirabel Beresford, the chosen one who transcends all.

You claim 'aptitude is required'? Then why worry? Is there any aptitude that I, Mirabel, lack?

Even if no one else possesses it, I alone have it. That is the law of the world."

"Indeed! Indeed!! My apologies for my foolishness! Please forgive me!!"

Quirrell, groveling on the floor, was silenced as Mirabel placed her foot on his head.

"There's nothing for you to fear. If I fail, it merely means I wasn't worthy of this endeavor. Understand that, and focus solely on fulfilling your assigned role."

"Y-Yes!"

After one last stomp on the back of Quirrell's head, Mirabel finally removed her foot and turned her gaze to Holger.

"Now, I'm leaving. I'll return here only as the Triwizard Tournament approaches its conclusion."

"Understood, my lady. Safe travels."

The preparations for the ritual were proceeding smoothly, with no apparent issues. There was no reason to worry.

For now, Mirabel decided, she would enjoy watching the tournament alongside the other spectators. After all, despite everything, she did have a fondness for such grand events.

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