Harry Potter: The Bard of Hogwarts

Over Brioni Island.

The dragon tamers once again demonstrated the qualities of a wizard.

With Dren joining the fight, the fifteen dragon tamers no longer cared about losses. Powerful spells continuously shot out, and within just a few breaths, the five Romanian Longhorn dragons lost their ability to fly.

After doing all this, they uniformly flew towards the inland of eastern Croatia, where they could find assistance immediately.

Before leaving, Dren looked down. The appearance of the blue phoenix reassured him completely.

Then he drove his broomstick with all his might without looking back.

...

"I knew it wouldn't be that simple!" Ino gently stroked Fide's wings.

The information transmitted to his mind made him realize that besides the twelve Ukrainian Ironbelly dragons, there were also twenty-three adult wizards hidden around the island, indicating that they had no intention of leaving the dragon farm any way out.

"You'll have to contribute in a bit too!"

Ino patted Fide's back again, encouraging him. Since others didn't plan to show mercy, he didn't need to be polite anymore.

As he finished speaking, he actively invoked the power of the Boggart. Countless pitch-black smoke rose from below.

His body also slowly floated into the sky within the extreme black smoke.

In mid-air, Ino shakily looked at the huge creatures in the distance.

The Ukrainian Ironbelly dragons, nearly 80 feet long, each exuded a sense of oppression, let alone twelve of them appearing together.

But even so, he had already thought of a countermeasure.

Holding the Magic Wand tightly in his hand, he also slightly adjusted his mind, making his emotions more indifferent.

After a moment, a cold voice sounded from the sky.

"Winter is Coming!"

Despite the island being covered with dark clouds, resembling the scene before a storm.

In the next second, the entire world seemed to be shrouded in a thick white veil.

In the sky, snow fell like countless dancing butterflies.

As the snowflakes fell, a fierce gale also began to blow on the island. It seemed alive, roaring, howling, sweeping away everything it could.

Tall trees swayed in the blizzard. At this moment, they no longer appeared like towering ancient trees but more like helpless little grass.

Similarly, the entire island gradually became foggy.

At first, it was just a faint white mist, but at some point, this white mist gradually darkened.

The thick smoke, dense like ink, soon completely engulfed the entire island, resembling a prehistoric giant beast.

A distant, ethereal chirp sounded.

This was Fide's first time speaking in this world since birth, a hatchling's first cry. Though the voice was ethereal, the listeners felt as if they were facing endless malice and curses.

As the phoenix's master, even though he was prepared, Ino still felt a sense of despair from this chirp.

But if he felt this way, the other creatures on the island would feel it even more so.

The extreme cold of the blizzard, the pervasive fear of the Boggart, the despairing chirp of the cursed phoenix...

All these combined, whether it was the twelve Ukrainian Ironbelly dragons or the twenty-three adult wizards guarding the island's periphery, they all fell to the ground, twitching slightly as if kissed by Dementors.

"Bloodline magic!"

In mid-air, Ino looked at the island below that seemed like a natural disaster had struck. He suddenly understood why Voldemort was willing to sacrifice his handsome appearance.

Magic power is a direct reflection of a wizard's strength, but magic power alone does not define a wizard.

He possessed magic power nearly equal to Snape's, but given today's scenario—twelve dragons plus twenty-three adult wizards—even if Snape were here, he wouldn't have been able to achieve this outcome.

Capturing twenty-three people alive and ensuring the dragons' survival, perhaps the only cost was the island's Acromantulas and dense vegetation.

And all this was only due to the unique bloodline magic: the White Witch's snow and ice, the Boggart's fear, and the phoenix's despair.

...

While Ino was contemplating how to deal with these wizards, far away at Hogwarts, things were bustling.

Draco generously replaced the old movie mirror in the Great Hall with a new one, screening "Tom and Jerry" stories on a loop from 5 PM to 8 PM.

At the same time, the Headmaster's office was crowded with people.

After receiving Dumbledore's letter, Fudge came immediately. Although a Third-Class Order of Merlin might not seem significant, he gave it utmost importance, not only coming personally to Hogwarts but also bringing his entourage from the Minister's office.

This attention was not due to Dumbledore's letter alone. The importance stemmed from Malfoy, Flint, Parkinson, Greengrass... or more precisely, the entire Slytherin house.

Though he was part of the Ministry of Magic, Fudge was always well aware of the changes at Hogwarts.

Whether it was the Alchemy Mirror or the profits behind it, as the Minister at the pinnacle of power, he did not need to pay it much attention.

However, the opportunity provided by the mirror to unify the new generation of pureblood Slytherins was significant. This power, perhaps insignificant now, would be hard to ignore once they graduated and spread across the world.

As a standard politician, Fudge knew that some things needed a clever entry point.

And to be honest, he was thrilled the entire afternoon after receiving Dumbledore's letter.

...

"An excellent alchemical product," Fudge said affirmatively as the image on the mirror disappeared.

After the Minister set the tone, Umbridge was the first to respond.

"In such an excellent era, outstanding students always emerge, naturally also reflecting the excellent education at Hogwarts."

As the Minister's assistant, Umbridge, with her simpering voice, flattered everyone— the Minister, students, Hogwarts professors—leaving no one out and perfectly enhancing the atmosphere.

Especially her first phrase, "an excellent era," was clearly meant to praise the Minister.

Even though he was often complimented, such subtle praise made Fudge show a faint smile.

"This achievement, I believe, fully qualifies for the Third-Class Order of Merlin. I will also sign my name in the recommender section."

Fudge clearly expressed his opinion, effectively settling the matter.

...

At the same time, outside the castle on the Quidditch pitch.

Although today wasn't a day for the House Cup matches, there were still many people on the field.

"Draco, did I do something wrong?" Goyle asked, confused, trying to recall if he'd done anything out of line lately, but he couldn't think of anything.

Draco remained silent, his expression as cold as Snape's during a potions class.

Goyle felt a bit uneasy. For some reason, whenever Draco sat behind the mirror, Goyle was afraid to make eye contact with him.

After several seconds of silence, Draco finally spoke.

"Goyle, I've told you more than once, you need to act naturally! Do you understand? Stop looking back at me all the time. Do I have something written on my face?"

Over the past two months, Draco had spent most of his time on filming stories. The script was ready-made from last year's Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook, Lockhart's novels, which with slight modifications, became great stories, not even needing a change of dialogue.

Everything should have been smooth.

But he overlooked the abilities of young wizards. It wasn't just Goyle; everyone participating had their own issues. They either zoned out, forgot their lines, or even posed in front of the mirror.

"Goyle! You have one last chance! Otherwise, you'll never get any snacks again. Now go back and play the wounded villager naturally," Draco shouted in frustration.

He had had enough of all the issues. These people had no idea what natural acting was, constantly being awkward and over the top, even speaking their lines with exaggerated tones.

...

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