Man of Archives

Zurich welcomed us with rather cool weather, which wasn't surprising given that it was December. The presence of snow was to be expected, although there wasn’t much of it. I arrived with Headmaster Dumbledore and Alastor Moody, who provided a small security detail.

 

The city itself was beautiful, nestled in a stunning location. Snow-capped mountains surrounded it on almost all sides, creating a breathtaking scene. Apparition was complicated; we couldn’t use a Portkey because the channel between England and Europe was too risky. Apparating across it could easily result in a foolishly fatal mistake. The sea is the most perilous space on the planet, filled with various monsters, both sentient and non-sentient creatures, natural anomalies, and much more that makes traversing it not just difficult and dangerous, but incredibly complex. When we reached the shore, I tried to "sense" the space and nearly passed out from the chaotic mess I encountered. In short, it’s something best avoided.

 

That’s why we crossed the channel on broomsticks. It was an unpleasant experience, to say the least. Fortunately, I could use magic to protect myself from external influences, so the flight was relatively comfortable, though I still didn’t like flying over such a large body of water, knowing there could be creatures below eager to make a meal of me.

 

We landed in a town called Calais, in France. Local Aurors met us immediately and were understandably curious about the new arrivals. They recognized Albus Dumbledore right away, and from there, the bureaucracy moved quickly and smoothly for us.

 

Moody doesn’t particularly like the French and eyed the Aurors with great suspicion. His eye whirled madly in its socket, trying to memorize and observe everyone and everything. Afterward, in the same town, the headmaster produced a Portkey that took us to Zurich.

 

We arrived at a rather wide platform cut off from the rest of the city by four large walls. Several wizards in unusual clothing stood at the entrance. They were wearing uniforms with red, blue, and yellow stripes. Even their shoes matched those colors. Each wizard held a halberd, with a sword and a wand at their belt.

 

“Guards,” Moody said respectfully. “They’re beasts in magical battles.”

 

“Are they really that good?” I asked.

 

“No one below the rank of Master in Combat Magic is allowed into the local guard,” Moody replied. “But even that isn’t enough due to the intense selection process here. They have three duties: guarding the Pope, who is a graduate of Beauxbatons, guarding Emperor Otto VI, and guarding Zurich.”

 

“Otto VI?” I was surprised.

 

“A descendant of Otto the Great, King of Germany and Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire,” Moody nodded. “Headmaster Dumbledore knows him personally.”

 

The headmaster just smiled at this but didn’t go into details.

 

“Guten Tag,” one of the guards greeted us as we approached them.

 

“Guten Tag,” the headmaster replied. “Ich bin….”

 

He quickly started saying something, but I didn’t understand a word. I had to just stand there and wait until we could move on. At one point, the headmaster pulled out a document and showed it to the guard. He quickly glanced at it, then drew his wand to make a mark. Only after that were we allowed to enter the city itself.

 

“Zurich is one of the few cities where even Headmaster Dumbledore’s documents will be checked,” Moody commented.

 

“What other cities are on that list?” I asked.

 

“Damascus, Yanshi, Thebes, Zurich, Argos, and Panticapaeum,” Dumbledore answered. “And that’s because these cities are the personal domains of the strongest wizards in the world from ancient families and lineages.”

 

The conversation then turned into a fascinating lecture that I was eager to listen to. Compared to Professor Binns’ lectures, this was like night and day. The rulers of these cities belong to the founding families that have survived to this day. Honestly, I’d like to visit all these cities after finishing Hogwarts.

 

We settled in a hotel called Continental, which has been a guest house for over seven hundred years. It’s a whole network of hotels found in almost every major city. I hadn’t noticed it in London, but when I asked the headmaster about it, he said the English Continental is located in the town of Camulodunum.

 

In general, I’m learning very interesting details from our conversations.

 

The hotel room was spacious enough for me and Moody. I took one room, and he took the other. We didn’t need to worry about food either since we’d be provided with breakfast and dinner. Lunch, if we wanted, could be bought in the local magical district or outside among the non-magical folk.

 

Magical Zurich is much larger than Diagon Alley in England. There are far more people, shops, and a multitude of interesting and attractive things from all over the world. For example, magical spices from India or self-brewing noodles from Japan. These were just a few of the many different shops.

 

After settling in, we had to register at the Olympiad committee so they’d know a participant had arrived. The main office was located in the magical university and was quite a spacious place with several separate rooms. There were no people around except for the committee members themselves.

 

The headmaster immediately approached a large desk where a dark-skinned wizard with large glasses on his nose was sitting. He was making some notes in a large book with a quill in his hand. This man looked rather amusing, as he was trying to cover his bald spot with a gray, curly wig. It was obvious right away that it was a wig.

 

“Ah, Albus Dumbledore,” the man said in perfect English but with an interesting accent. “I see you’ve brought a student from Hogwarts. We even had bets on this! Odds were really good.”

 

“And who won?”

 

“Me, of course,” the wizard said with a bit of pride. “I never had any doubts about it.”

 

“And rightly so,” the headmaster nodded. “There’s no need to doubt me.”

 

“Well, let’s put our conversations aside,” the wizard said and began to study me closely. “You’re Timothy Jodie?”

 

“Yes, sir,” I replied respectfully.

 

“Call me Mr. Flanders,” he immediately introduced himself, though he didn’t give his full name. “Are you ready for the Olympiad?”

 

“As much as possible,” I nodded.

 

“Then I need you to sign here and here.”

 

He handed me a rather long, yellowish paper with a lot of text. Not neglecting basic safety rules, I carefully read through the text. The wizards patiently waited. Once I was sure there were no tricks in the document, I signed it.

 

“Excellent!” Mr. Flanders nodded. “I like your approach to safety.”

 

The wizard rolled up the paper, and it simply dissolved into the air. Then he pulled out a small folder with several documents inside. On the back of the folder was the Transfiguration Guild's emblem, along with animated portraits of wizards unknown to me.

 

“Here’s your folder with information about the Olympiad,” he said. “I recommend studying everything to avoid any confusion later. There’s a schedule of events, rules, and other important organizational information.”

 

“Thank you, Mr. Flanders,” I nodded and gladly accepted the folder from his hands.

 

“Great,” he nodded, then paused for a moment as if trying to remember something. “What else? Ah, yes! I wish you luck and hope you perform well in the Olympiad.”

 

“Thank you very much,” I nodded.

 

We left the office and returned to the Continental. Moody immediately left the room to explore the hotel and the surrounding streets, leaving me alone with Dumbledore.

 

“Timothy,” the headmaster addressed me. “I won’t be with you during the Olympiad. You’ve already proven to me that you’re independent enough. I want to give you a few pieces of advice.”

 

“Yes,” I immediately leaned in, ready to listen to what the headmaster had to advise me.

 

“First of all, you should treat the other participants with respect,” the wizard said. “They might not be very pleasant people, believe me, but don’t rush into confrontation. Think things through. The second piece of advice is a continuation of the first. If it does come to confrontation, don’t take a step back. Whether it’s a fight or a war of words. Alastor will help you if other participants’ assistants get involved. And lastly, don’t worry. If something doesn’t work out or anything else happens, don’t let it get to you. Show a result that Hogwarts can be proud of.”

 

“I understand, Headmaster Dumbledore,” I replied, slightly bowing my head. “I’ll do my best.”

 

“I know,” the headmaster nodded. “One more thing: don’t argue with the judges. It’s not necessary for either you or them.”

 

Dumbledore paused for a few seconds as if searching for something else to say. But it seemed nothing came to mind, so he just nodded to himself.

 

“Well then, I wish you good luck,” the man said. “See you at the ceremony.”

 

The headmaster got up and simply left, leaving me alone in the room. It was quick and strange. But never mind. Shrugging it off, I went to my room and collapsed on the bed. It was surprisingly soft and smelled fresh. Summoning the folder with magic, I opened it and began to carefully study each document.

 

First, I learned how everything would proceed. As I already knew, the Transfiguration Olympiad consists of two parts. The first theoretical part will take place over two days. Tomorrow morning will be the opening of the Olympiad and the greeting of the participants. After that, the first stage of the theory will begin. The next day will be the second stage, which will last all day.

 

Two days later, the results of the theoretical part of the Olympiad will be announced to everyone. From the fifth day to the ninth, the practical part of the exam will take place. It will also consist of various stages, which will be evaluated and the results immediately made known to the other participants.

 

On the last day, the tenth, there will be an award ceremony and a grand closing ball. This will be on December 20th.

 

The next important document was about the rules of the event. The first rule stated that cheating is not allowed. Anyone caught will be penalized and banned from attempting to become a Transfiguration apprentice. It also mentioned that the three participants with the lowest scores in the theoretical part would be automatically disqualified. I’m sure I won’t be in that position, thanks to my Archive. Even without it, I’ve prepared well.

 

Duels to the death are allowed. However, only Transfiguration can be used during them. If a participant uses a spell from another branch of magic, they will be automatically disqualified. It was important to note that duels could affect the number of points. A victory would add a few points, while a defeat would subtract them. Only other participants can intervene in duels. In general, it’s all very interestingly organized and recorded.

 

Next was a document with a map of the city, marking all the important buildings that might be of interest, as well as where the other participants of the Olympiad would be located. So far, I don’t know any of them, but after the opening ceremony, the names should appear on the list along with the points they’ve earned so far.

 

To kill some time, I immersed myself in meditation and then in the Archive. Being in Zurich, I definitely can’t afford to put off filling my personal Archive. So I immediately set out to search for something important and interesting. It would be best if I were in the university, but since I’m not, I’ll have to make do with what I have. I’m sure there’s something interesting and unexplored by me here at the Continental.

 

And so it happened. I found a book on kitchen management spells. We studied such spells in Charms, but here they were more advanced. It probably belongs to one of the chefs. I uploaded it since I definitely won’t disdain even such knowledge. The upload was quick since the book itself wasn’t very large. It looked more like a pamphlet than a book.

 

After that, I continued my search in the local informational space, uploading the books that interested me. My Archive magic received another evolution from Myrtle and now allows me to see all the books in the surrounding informational space. This gives me the ability to get something interesting without even specifying a search. In general, it allows me to bypass the problem of “I don’t know what I don’t know.”

 

There were also books that had almost no direct connection to magic. These were travel notes, diaries, memoirs, and lots of other printed material. Of course, they might contain interesting personal spells or thoughts on the nature of magic, but still, it’s not quite what I need right now.

 

After uploading a little more than a dozen books that interested me, Alastor Moody returned. The wizard looked somewhat displeased. His artificial eye was spinning wildly, as if he were a madman. I’ll say that Moody doesn’t give the impression of a sane person. His movements were jerky, and he sometimes grimaced in pain. The missing part of his nose, along with the scars from spells, made his expressions even more intimidating. His sparse hair didn’t add to his charm, nor did the wooden leg he occasionally limped on. You might think this wizard was weakened and could no longer put up a fight, but that would be a deceptive impression. Alastor Moody could still take down almost any wizard in England, except perhaps the headmaster and a few old wizards from the Combat Magic Guild.

 

“Chilling?” he asked me.

 

“Mentally preparing,” I replied. “Tomorrow is supposed to be the first tough day.”

 

“It won’t just be tough for you,” he chuckled, heading to the common room. I followed him and sat down in one of the two soft chairs. Moody also sat down, propping up his wooden leg. “Your competitors are already sniffing around for information. Several wizards are watching the hotel entrance.”

 

“Should I expect any trouble from them?” I asked.

 

“Well, it depends,” Moody chuckled. “You can get cursed by any wizard, especially if it’s a weak one. No one will do anything about it.”

 

That doesn’t sound good, to be honest. I’d prefer there to be no outside interference at all. But my opinion doesn’t count, so I’ll have to live with what I have.

 

“What should we do?” I asked.

 

“You do your thing, and I’ll do mine,” Moody simply replied, pulling several sneakoscopes and other interesting artifacts from his pocket that allow you to detect danger before it arrives.

 

This suited me just fine, so I just nodded. I wasn’t planning on going outside anyway; it’s better to upload and analyze some books. That would be more useful. Sure, I’m curious about magical Zurich, but not to the extent of putting myself on display for all the other students just yet.

 

We also ordered dinner to the room since neither Moody nor I wanted to go anywhere. We ordered fairly simple food made from basic ingredients. Moody quickly and rather neatly finished his portion. I took a bit longer with mine since I was reading a book at the same time. I had already uploaded it to my Archive, but why not read it like this as well?

 

“Tomorrow we get up early,” Moody said. “We need to be the first in the ceremony hall and get the best seats.”

 

“Okay,” I agreed with him. It really did sound logical.

 

I went to bed after fully analyzing one of the books. It was another small collection of spells, many of which I was already familiar with. I also discovered one weakness in my magic. If a book is written in another language, I can’t analyze it. This means only one thing… I need to find a method to quickly learn other languages. I’m sure magical books written in other languages contain spells that could be very useful to me.

 

My sleep was calm and not too restless, but I woke up early in the morning. The room felt a bit chilly, but that didn’t bother me. What did concern me was the thick gray fog creeping across the floor, so dense that I couldn’t even see the ground. I quickly checked myself for any external influences and began casting spells, my wand already in hand.

 

Suddenly, the walls shook.

 

“You bastard!” Moody roared. A moment later, the entire fog erupted into red-purple flames, quickly dissipating.

 

He burst into my room the next second, wand at the ready. His magical eye wasn’t just spinning quickly and chaotically—it was moving so fast that I couldn’t even see the pupil. It was a somewhat terrifying sight, and his face didn’t exactly inspire confidence.

 

“You alright?” he asked.

 

“Yes, Mr. Moody,” I nodded.

 

“Good,” he said. “I see you’re not as clueless as most students.”

 

He nodded toward the several protective spells around me. Then he waved his wand again and put it away. His eye calmed down a bit and was now looking somewhere behind him.

 

I didn’t feel like sleeping anymore, so after getting myself together, I went to the common room. Moody was just brewing tea.

 

“Want some tea?”

 

“Yes, thank you,” I nodded.

 

Alastor pulled out a second mug and poured in some mint tea. The scent spread around in calming waves. When everything was ready, I took a sip and allowed myself to relax a bit.

 

“Mr. Moody, what was that fog?” I asked.

 

“That was Saint Thomas Aquinas’ Fog,” the man replied. “A vile, ancient Italian spell. Banned in England and many other countries. The punishment for its use is death.”

 

“Have you encountered it before?” I asked.

 

“Yes,” the man nodded. “The Dark Lord used it several times on particularly rebellious groups of people and creatures.”

 

“Hmm,” I muttered. “So someone wanted to take us out…”

 

“Oh, I see you catch on quickly,” Moody said somewhat mockingly. “You’ve got brains!”

 

I just shrugged, not too concerned about it. If he wants to crack jokes… fine. But I’ll remember the spell and look into where I can find it. Of course, I don’t plan to use it, but knowing it could be useful.

 

“And what was that fire?”

 

“That’s the reaction of the Fog to a Patronus,” Moody replied calmly.

 

“I never would have thought it had so many possibilities,” I replied.

 

“It’s a multifunctional spell,” Moody answered more calmly. “A personal creation of Merlin.”

 

I’ve come across mentions of this spell before, but I never got around to studying it. Perhaps I should spend some time on it when I return to Hogwarts. If I think about it, I’m not too worried about the fact that someone tried to kill me. That’s already in the past. Of course, I really want to find whoever did this and ordered it, and have a face-to-face chat with them, but I’m not going to dwell on the fact that death passed me by within millimeters.

 

Of course, I can’t sit around doing nothing, so I started practicing some basic wand movements. Moody just nodded approvingly, but he joined in. He didn’t say a word.

 

When the time came, we went to the ceremony. It was held in a small hall in one of the wings of the university. There were quite a few different people, all of whom watched the arrivals with interest. There were both young wizards and older ones. The discussions ranged from loud to whispers.

 

The Olympiad organizers were already there, unlike the participants. Several wizards approached me right away.

 

“Good morning,” said the older one. “Your name?”

 

“Timothy Jodie,” I introduced myself and immediately handed over several documents. “Participant.”

 

“Got it,” he nodded. A list appeared in his hand. He ran his wand over several lines, then made a mark. It seemed to be next to my name. “You can choose any available chair.”

 

There were twelve chairs, all made in the same style and design. It might have seemed they were from the same set. Perhaps they were. The large selection didn’t pose a problem for me. Since the chairs were arranged in a small semicircle, I chose the far-right one so my back would be protected, and I could easily observe the entire hall. Moody gave me a thumbs-up, looking satisfied.

 

Next came a tall guy with short-cropped hair. His eyes were deep-set, emphasized by pronounced cheekbones. His nose was straight, and his lips were thin. His freshly shaven chin was noticeable. He was dressed in a red sweater with leather patches on the shoulders, elbows, and back. His pants were also thick, as were his boots. His wand hung openly in a holster on his belt. He sat in the central chair and stared straight ahead. On his hand, I noticed a familiar symbol. It was the symbol of Durmstrang.

 

After him came another participant. He was tall. His tightly packed figure suggested he was not limited to just physical exercises. His arms were black. He was dressed in light red clothing with various patterns. But that wasn’t what caught the attention. The attention was drawn to a large, flat mask on his face with a crest that made it even bigger. It seems this student is from one of the African schools.

 

After him came a short guy in crimson clothes and some slippers with white socks. His narrow eyes immediately hinted at which part of the world he was from.

 

He was followed almost immediately by a short witch who suspiciously eyed everyone before sitting down. She also had narrow eyes, but slightly different ones. It’s hard to describe, but they were different.

 

Next came another guy with narrow, slit-like eyes, slightly yellowish skin, and long hair braided into a ponytail. He was smirking, looking at everyone with a sense of superiority. For some reason, I had the urge to pick up something heavy and shove that smirk deep into his throat.

 

The organizers greeting them spoke to them in entirely different languages, which I immediately noticed.

 

After that, a tall guy with light hair and rather simple facial features walked in. He glanced at everyone with his blue eyes and calmly sat down next to the Durmstrang student. He spread his legs wide and slouched in the chair, displaying his confidence.

 

Then a very attractive girl in a light blue robe entered. On her head was a small hat covering her long, light-white hair. Her legs were hidden by a short skirt that reached just below her knees. Then there were some stockings and small shoes with low heels. You could immediately tell by her outfit that she was a Beauxbatons student.

 

After pausing for a moment, she headed toward me and sat down in the chair next to mine. The barely noticeable scent of her perfume was enticing. Without showing anything, I gave her a quick once-over. My trousers immediately felt a stirring. Let’s just say, the local witches aren’t exactly ugly. I’d say she’s on par with Isolde and Tonks.

 

Then another short guy with a turban on his head and black mustache entered. He was dressed in fairly colorful clothes with golden decorations. He had both a dagger and a wand on his belt. He immediately went to one of the free chairs and began to carefully study each participant. I also noticed he had a small medallion with a crescent moon and a star right between the horns of that crescent.

 

Lastly, a black-haired girl entered. Her attentive eyes scanned everyone, lingering especially on the Beauxbatons girl. The latter smiled, trying to look sweet. The black-haired girl grimaced as if she had eaten something very sour.

 

We all sat in silence, exchanging glances. The Beauxbatons blonde pulled a magazine out of her purse. And I didn’t even notice the purse. The Durmstrang student continued to sit upright, staring blankly ahead. The light-haired guy threw his head back and sat with his eyes closed. The Asians exchanged tense and meaningful looks. The guy with the turban was cleaning his knife with a cloth. The African simply sat, tapping his long fingers on his knees. The black-haired girl was checking herself in a mirror, adjusting the tiniest details. Let’s just say, the atmosphere was tense.

 

Nine chairs were occupied. Three remained free. The organizers looked at their watches, and when the hand reached twelve, one of them clapped his hands.

 

“And so, friends,” he said loudly. “From this moment, your Olympiad has begun. Participant Damir Karash from Tripoli has been disqualified, Sanjin Kaur from Delhi has been disqualified, and Mogabe Olubwapé has also been disqualified. From this moment, the Olympiad rules apply to you.”

 

His last words were accompanied by a clap. A small, silver tray appeared in front of each participant. On the tray was a similarly silver bracelet. None of the students seemed to think this object might be dangerous. But I still remember the rules of handling unknown artifacts from my previous life. Even though those methods don’t fully work here, it doesn’t mean I haven’t found a replacement. There are also spells and enchantments in local magical arts that allow you to check an unknown artifact and make it safe for the wearer.

 

My wand appeared in my hand, and I gently tapped it on the bracelet. A golden wave spread across it, immediately revealing several threads connecting it to the other participants’ bracelets and the organizers and referees.

 

All the eyes in the room were on me. The attendants were also present, but they were a bit further away from the participants’ chairs. But you know, I didn’t feel any embarrassment. Let them think what they want. I don’t care.

 

“Ahem,” the organizer cleared his throat. “So, these bracelets will help track your actions during the Olympiad. They will record and conduct a basic assessment of your actions. All your points are recorded in a single system accessible to all participants. Points for the theoretical and practical parts will be added there as well. As you already know, the first part will be theoretical.”

 

The wizard seemed to have regained his composure after my actions and was now speaking more or less calmly. Everything he said was already known to me and the other participants.

 

“The three people with the lowest scores will be excluded from the Olympiad,” the man confirmed once again the information I already knew.

 

He then talked about confrontations. The information was almost word-for-word identical to what I read in the folder. The participants listened attentively, as if hoping to hear something new. I listened too, but it was clear that everything repeated the information from the documents.

 

“The first theoretical stage will be held in Auditorium 202,” the wizard wrapped up. “You have two hours to socialize and get acquainted. After that, we’ll see you in the auditorium.”

 

With that, the opening ceremony ended. The wizard returned to his colleagues, who were discussing something lively. Judging by the looks they gave me, the conversation was about me. The door opened, allowing everyone to leave the auditorium.

 

Moody approached me and nodded his head.

 

“You really made an impression,” he chuckled.

 

“What do you mean, Mr. Moody?” I asked.

 

“I don’t remember a student ever checking the tracking bracelet for any hidden nasties,” he said. “The general consensus is that there can’t be anything in there besides the stated tracking functions.”

 

“Is that… bad?” I asked cautiously.

 

“It’s improper,” he nodded, then added with a grin. “But I approve. Constant Vigilance!”

 

Other wizards weren’t paying much attention to us since we had already moved to the corner. The participants had already formed small groups and were chatting about something. The attendants were also talking among themselves but weren’t interfering with the Olympiad participants.

 

“Alright, I’m going to find out something,” Moody said. “Don’t miss the start of the theoretical part.”

 

The wizard immediately left and stopped near a group of wizards who were discussing something with interest. It seems Moody knew them since they greeted him quite cheerfully. He responded in kind.

 

“Hi,” the Beauxbatons student addressed me. She spoke in English but with an incredible accent. “My name is Marie Charmacain, a sixth-year student of Beauxbatons.”

 

“Timothy Jodie,” I replied. “Sixth year, Hogwarts.”

 

“Ready to be eliminated after the first stage?” she asked with a mocking and slightly proud tone.

 

“Only after you,” I replied calmly. I looked her straight in the eyes, completely unconcerned about how it might look. Someone who has already died once won’t be afraid to look another person in the eye. Even though she might possess Legilimency, for some reason, I didn’t feel any danger.

 

“Well, you’re funny,” she chuckled. “My victory here is already predetermined. Your defeat is also prede…”

 

“Shh,” I interrupted her, putting my finger to my lips. “Do you hear that?”

 

“What?” she asked with slight confusion.

 

“It’s the whip crying for you,” I replied. “The whip for your sweet back.”

 

“You…”

 

“Heh,” was all I said in response. “Alright, hiss all you want. But be careful not to choke on your own venom. Anything can happen.”

 

After that, I simply turned around, almost bumping into the tall, light-haired guy who had slept through the entire opening.

 

“Why are you picking on a girl?” he asked in broken English. “That’s not manly.”

 

“And what are you going to do about it?” I asked, taking a small step toward him, reducing the distance between us.

 

He raised his fist to strike. But… it was so slow and sloppy that I think anyone who has even a bit of experience in martial arts could have intercepted it and done something painful.

 

In short, the guy’s attack completely failed. I intercepted his hand, brought it down. With my other hand, I grabbed his clothing at the collarbone, twisted my body with a crouch, struck under his arm, and with a sharp tilt and an extra push with my leg, I threw him over my shoulder. The sharp tilt and his body slammed into the floor with a thud. It was a very precise and painful shoulder throw.

 

I stepped aside and drew my wand. The guy was now lying on the floor, clutching his back, his body twisted, and an expression of indescribable pain on his face.

 

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” two referees shouted immediately. They stepped between us, separating us. The one standing in front of me also had his wand drawn, pointed menacingly in my direction. The second referee was already tending to the groaning guy.

 

Alastor Moody appeared beside me, as if offering support. The other attendants quickly split into groups.

 

“Wand in its holster,” the referee ordered me. Behind him, I noticed another bearded man who was looking at me with great displeasure. His hand was in his pocket, gripping something.

 

“Only after you,” I replied, staying ready and calculating my next moves.

 

So, I lower my wand, and nothing happens. That’s the most preferable outcome. But the bearded man behind the referee, who had managed to control his facial expression but continued to stare at me unblinkingly, suggested that as soon as I lowered my wand, something would happen. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Moody was also quite tense, and his artificial eye was darting in all directions. If this bearded man attacks me, I’ll have to move out of the strike’s trajectory. Since I don’t know the spell he’ll use, it’s best to Apparate behind him. Surprisingly, it was possible to do that here. Then I think Moody will take action, and if not, the public should intervene. If they don’t, and the bearded man tries to cause trouble, I’ll have to think for myself.

 

All of this flashed through my mind in a matter of moments.

 

The referee began lowering his wand, and I did the same a moment later. When my wand was level with my torso, the bearded man did exactly what I expected. Maybe I should become a Seer?

 

Not waiting long, I spun and Apparated with a pop to the other side of the hall. My wand was already in the first battle position and ready for a crushing spell. I’m definitely not going to follow the Olympiad rules when I’m being attacked by an attendant.

 

The spell that shot from the bearded man’s wand hit the floor, almost directly behind where I had been standing, leaving a sizzling gray blotch.

 

“Stop!” boomed the voice of the chief referee. The other referees and organizers were already holding their wands at the ready, controlling almost every participant. No one wanted the situation to turn chaotic and uncontrollable. “Wands back in their holsters. Now.”

 

I had to obey the man’s order and put my wand away. The bearded man did the same, continuing to glare at me. But it seemed he wasn’t going to expose himself and his participant to a fight with the organizers and referees.

 

“Good,” the chief referee said, lowering his wand as well. The wizards were still tense, but not as much as in the most critical moment when the spells felt like they were hanging in the air. “And now, I want you all to understand. No fighting between participants and attendants. We will not tolerate it. The penalties for breaking this rule will be severe. After the Olympiad, do what you want.”

 

The man looked at everyone with his attentive eyes.

 

“Does everyone understand what I said?”

 

“Yes,” I replied, feeling his gaze on me.

 

The bearded man said nothing. But it seemed he agreed to this. However, I’m sure he’ll want to settle the score with me after the Olympiad. I’ll have to be ready for that.

 

Alastor Moody approached me and once again pulled me aside.

 

“You’ve got yourself in trouble, kid,” he said. “That bearded guy is a top-class combat mage from Durmstrang. His name is Andrei Bolshanov. Be careful because he’s vindictive and might hit you with something nasty and dangerous from behind.”

 

“Did he take this situation that personally?” I asked in surprise.

 

“Oh yeah,” he chuckled. “The guy you threw down so nicely on his back is his nephew. Because of his paranoia, he’ll find it hard to stomach this. If you had won in a magical duel, his reaction would have been different.”

 

“His nephew started it,” I said calmly.

 

“That doesn’t matter to him,” Moody chuckled. “Anyway, watch out for both of them.”

 

“Got it,” I exhaled. “Thanks.”

 

Looks like I’ll have to be even more careful now. But oh well, this isn’t the first time.