Hogwarts Champion // Triwizard Tournament

IX

THE SPHINX'S RIDDLE

The highly anticipated day had dawned at last. The sun rose, casting a golden glow over the sprawling grounds of Hogwarts. Excitement buzzed through the air like electricity as students from every house, along with visitors from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, congregated in the vast arena just beyond the Quidditch pitch.

A thin veil of mist draped over the scene, adding an ethereal quality to the morning ambiance. The air was crisp, infused with the freshness of the new day and the promise of adventure that lay ahead. The fog danced lightly over the grass, swirling and twirling as if in anticipation of the imminent spectacle.

As the first light of dawn illuminated the arena, it heralded the beginning of the Triwizard Tournament's inaugural challenge. With hearts pounding and nerves on edge, me and the other competitors gathered in a tent just outside the arena. The Minister and Headmaster Black entered and began to explain the rules of the challenge, a sense of anticipation filled the tent.

"Good morning, students," the Minister began, his voice carrying authority and warmth. "Today marks the beginning of the Triwizard Tournament, a time-honored tradition that tests the skills and bravery of young witches and wizards."

Headmaster Black stepped forward, "In this first challenge, you will face the Sphinx," he continued, his gaze sweeping over the assembled competitors. "Your task is twofold: answer its riddle correctly, or demonstrate your strength should you fail."

A murmur of anticipation rippled through the tent as the gravity of the challenge sank in.

"The rules are simple," the Minister added, "Each competitor will enter the arena one at a time. You will approach the Sphinx, where you will be presented with a riddle. Answer correctly, and you may proceed unharmed. Answer incorrectly, and you will face the Sphinx in a physical trial."

As the officials concluded their explanation, a solemn silence settled over the tent. The weight of the challenge ahead hung heavy in the air, Ivan and Genevieve were steeling themselves for what lay ahead.

With a final nod from the Minister and Headmaster, the tension in the tent reached its peak. The time had come for the first competitor to step forward and face the Sphinx, setting the stage for an unforgettable trial of wit and courage.

As Ivan Volkov, representing Durmstrang, stepped forward to face the challenge first, a hush fell over the tent. Sebastian turned to me, his expression a mix of concern and confidence.

"You've got this, right?" he asked, his voice low but tinged with urgency.

I nodded, a surge of determination coursing through me. "I can handle it," I replied, my tone firm and resolute.

Sebastian offered a teasing smirk, his words laced with playful mockery. "Good. Slytherin's reputation is riding on it," he quipped, though there was a glint of genuine encouragement in his eyes.

With that, Sebastian turned and walked out of the tent, leaving me to gather myself in the quiet solitude of the canvas enclosure.

Taking a deep breath, I sat on one of the cots and focused my thoughts, steeling myself for the challenge that awaited. Whatever lay ahead, I was determined to face it head-on, ready to prove myself in the eyes of all those watching from the stands.

As the moments ticked by, the anticipation grew. It was now up to Genevieve, the representative from Beauxbatons, to face her challenge. A ripple of anticipation ran through the air. I watched her go with a mix of nerves and curiosity, twiddling my thumbs in a subconscious effort to ease the tension that coiled in my stomach.