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All Monday, I'd been checking and rechecking my transfiguration spells, practicing Hermione's spell, and being in a real fighting excitement. Even at night, instead of sleeping, I sat in the Chamber of Secrets and, under Delphine's watchful eye, practiced using Hermione's spell and my own in turn, turning myself into a four-legged, tailed monster of different metals. Rowena helped me greatly in this matter. Since she is a full-fledged consciousness, we tried to divide the duties - I hold one spell and she the other one. It was her help that allowed me to create two spells at the same time. Delphine, as a more experienced and stronger witch, who was no stranger to amplifying her body through chimerology, could have pumped magic into such a spell without the crutches, but I couldn't do it myself.
Half the night, I practiced controlling two bodies - a monster and a small bird. For this reason, on Tuesday morning, the day of the first round, I was very tired and decided to simply sleep through breakfast and the time of the first classes. What if I lacked a little concentration and focus?
By noon, everyone was taken out of class, a small lunch in the great hall, and that's where Hermione had already shoved me out of my den.
"Sleeping through the first round - it would have been just phenomenal!" the girl nudged me in the back with feigned indignation as she led me down the hallways from the second entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.
"You're pushing me into an event where people die, Miona," I woke up quickly, walking more cheerfully and confidently.
"I believe in you. After all, you killed a basilisk!"
"I was just lucky then. It was chasing Potter... Hmm, maybe I should transfigure a golem in the form of Potter to distract the animal? The first round is traditionally always "animal." Class five danger. Who do you think will be brought in?"
"Hardly anyone too dangerous. And I am sure that the security measures are more or less well thought out. Maybe it will cripple, but it will not kill."
"You talk about it so easily."
"Occlumency is at a maximum, Max. I'm trying to quell worries about things I can't change one way or another."
Upon reaching the great hall, I met Draco and company. Specifically, this company included the unchanging Crabbe and Goyle, Nott, Daphne, and Parkinson. Parkinson, by the way, is quite a pretty girl with a bob of black hair. However, as soon as she opens her mouth, all the favorable impression is washed away down the drain.
"What, Knight, ready to die?" grinned Malfoy at me. "I bet you'll last even less than Potter."
His company immediately chuckled obsequiously, and we simply ignored them, making our way further into the hall and sitting at our empty seats at the House table.
"Ready for the contest?" immediately inquired Seamus.
"I think so. Let's see what will be there."
"It must be something incredible!" smiled Seamus with anticipation. "I hope no one gets hurt, and the spectacle will be awesome."
"It's nice to hear you put 'no one gets hurt' first," Dean Thomas shoved a comrade in the side.
Just as we were about to finish our lunch, Professor McGonagall came over to our table and carefully examined me and Potter with her stern gaze over her neat glasses.
"Mr. Knight, Mr. Potter," the professor spoke. "All the champions have already left. Time to get ready for the first round."
"I'm coming," Potter replied somehow huskily, rising, dropping his fork on his plate with a clink.
I just nodded and stood up.
"Good luck," Hermione whispered.
Ron looked at both me and Harry with distaste. Well, his dislike wasn't as strong in the latter case, but there was still something about the look that wasn't pleasant.
We left the great hall with the professor, walked down the stone stairs, and out into the overcast and cold November afternoon. Here, at last, some anxiety appeared on the professor's face, and she put her hands on our shoulders.
"Don't be afraid," she said. "There are wizards on duty in case of complications... Most importantly, do the best you can, they won't think anything bad of you... Mr. Knight?"
Here McGonagall noticed something amiss.
"Why aren't you in your Hogwarts uniform, or at the very least, a Quidditch outfit like Potter?" funny, but when the professor is outraged, all the "mister" and "miss" disappear from her speech without a trace.
"What's the big deal?" I shake off invisible dust particles from my cloak collar with surprise. It's just that I'm wearing my Graves-style costume. I don't even know why. "If they have to put me in a coffin, they won't even have to change my clothes. Already dressed up."
"Mr. Knight!" exclaimed the professor, and we had already come to the edge of the forest, to the champions' tent. There, a little farther away, a large corral with bleachers could be seen through the tree trunks. "What are you talking about?!"
"No, well, you never know what. Ready for anything."
The professor shook her head.
"Come in here with the other champions," McGonagall's voice trembled slightly. "You will wait your turn. Mr. Bagman is there. He'll explain to you what to do... Good luck."
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