Harry Potter with Technology System

The students weren’t far behind, the volume of the cheers deafening. Half the school were on their feet, screaming his name. Even some Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students were clapping.

Meanwhile, the professors had varying reactions.

McGonagall was seated again, looking exhausted, like she’d aged ten years just from watching that. Snape had his arms crossed, but there was relief in his gaze as he tracked Harry. Madame Maxime had one hand pressed to her chest, shaking her head slightly, while Karkaroff looked like he wanted to hex something.

Dumbledore just stroked his beard, eyes twinkling.

Harry gave the crowd a lazy wave as he picked up both golden eggs. The noise from the stands hadn’t died down—if anything, the cheers had only gotten louder, blending with the frantic murmurs of students still trying to process what they had just witnessed. He ignored them, stepping back toward the champions’ tent with both eggs tucked under his arm.

Inside, Fleur and Krum were already there, both watching him with varying degrees of incredulity. Fleur, who had been dabbing at a scorch mark on her sleeve, let out an exasperated huff.

"Two dragonz, and you walk away like you just went for a stroll," she said, shaking her head. "Do you ever do thingz normally?"

Harry set his eggs down on the nearest table and shrugged. "Didn’t see the point in getting burned."

Krum, still looking vaguely irritated from his own match, grunted. "You spoke to them." It wasn’t a question.

"Dragons aren’t complicated," Harry said. "They don’t care about rules. If you make it clear you’re not a threat, they won’t waste their energy."

Krum gave him a long look, then muttered something in Bulgarian under his breath. Fleur just scoffed, but there was a trace of amusement in her expression.

Bagman burst in a moment later, still looking like he had barely recovered from the spectacle. "Marvelous! Simply marvelous! I mean, we expected a show, but that was—well, unexpected! Brilliant flying, Potter! And that first round—what a strategy! Never seen anything like it!"

Harry leaned against the table. "Just lucky, I guess."

Bagman laughed, wiping at his forehead. "Right, right! Now, the judges are finalizing their scores, so in a moment, we’ll know where you all stand!"

Harry didn’t care much about the scores, but he stayed in the tent as Bagman fussed about, waiting for the results to be announced. Outside, the crowd hadn’t settled, and from the occasional burst of shouting, he could tell people were still debating what they had just seen.

Eventually, the enchanted parchment fluttered into Bagman’s hands. He scanned it, his eyes widening before he turned to the champions with a grin. "Alright! Here we go!"

He cleared his throat and started reading. "Fleur Delacour—thirty-eight points!"

Fleur nodded, looking satisfied enough.

"Viktor Krum—forty points!"

Krum didn’t react much, but his jaw twitched slightly, like he had expected more.

Bagman’s grin widened as he looked at Harry. "And for our double champion—Harry Potter! For your first round with the Swedish Short-Snout—forty points!"

Fleur raised a brow, but she didn’t argue. Krum’s fingers twitched around his dragon miniature, but he stayed quiet.

"And for your second round with the Hungarian Horntail…" Bagman glanced at the parchment, then chuckled. "Forty-six points!"

Fleur turned her head sharply, and Krum straightened slightly. Harry just picked up one of his eggs and inspected it.

"New record, that is!" Bagman said, still beaming. "Never seen a score that high! Absolutely unheard of!"

"Of course it iz," Fleur muttered, shaking her head again.

Krum gave Harry another unreadable look but didn’t comment.

Bagman clapped his hands together. "Well done, all of you! Now, take some time to rest! The next task isn’t until February, so you’ll have plenty of time to prepare!"

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed his eggs, gave Fleur and Krum a nod, then left the tent. The moment he stepped outside, the volume in the stadium spiked again. It was impossible to walk anywhere without people trying to get his attention—students shouting, reporters scrambling for a quote, and even a few professors looking like they wanted to pull him aside for a word.

The crowd trailed after Harry as he made his way back to the castle, students and professors moving like a tide around him. Some were chattering excitedly, still caught up in the absurdity of what they just seen, while others kept throwing glances at him like he’d grown a second head.

Harry didn’t ignore them—besides the reporters, who he flat-out dismissed whenever they tried to push through with their Quick-Quotes Quills poised. Instead, he acknowledged the congratulations with a simple nod or a quick “Thanks.” He waved back at the younger students who cheered for him.

McGonagall, who had clearly aged several years watching him handle two dragons, kept giving him long, unreadable looks before finally settling on, “That was… unconventional, Potter.”

“Worked, though,” he said, shifting the weight of the two golden eggs under his arm.

She exhaled through her nose. “I won’t argue with results.”

Fred and George practically threw themselves at him the moment they got close enough, both grinning like they’d just won the lottery.

“You absolute menace,” Fred said, slinging an arm over Harry’s shoulder.

“You know, we knew you would do something mad, but racing a dragon?” George whistled. “That’s next level.”

“Don’t forget jumping off the broom mid-air,” Lee Jordan added, grinning. “Nearly gave half the school a heart attack.”

Harry shrugged, shifting Fred’s arm off him. “It was the easiest way to win.”

“Mad,” Fred said again, shaking his head in admiration.

His Slytherin friends weren’t far behind. Daphne and Tracey had pushed through the crowd, flanking him on either side. Tracey was still grinning, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe what she’d seen.

“You didn’t just talk to the first dragon,” she said, jabbing a finger at him. “You negotiated.”

Harry raised a brow. “What else was I supposed to do? Fight it?”

“Like a normal wizard, yes,” Theodore said dryly, appearing on his right. He studied Harry with his usual cool gaze before smirking slightly. “But I suppose that would’ve been too straightforward for you.”

Draco, for his part, had an odd expression on his face—somewhere between impressed and exasperated. “I bet a lot of money on you, Harry, but I didn’t think you would win like that.”

Harry glanced at him. “How much did you make?”

Draco smirked. “Enough.”

Pansy snorted, looping an arm through Harry's. “Don’t let him fool you. He was screaming like a first-year when you jumped off your broom.”

“I was not,” Draco shot back, but his ears went slightly pink.

Susan shook her head with a little laugh. “Many still trying to figure out if you have a death wish or if you’re just reckless with style.”

Ginny looked like she wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or awed. Hermione, on the other hand, was clearly holding back a lecture. She kept opening her mouth as if she wanted to scold him, then sighing when she realized it wouldn’t make a difference.

“You know, you could’ve done that whole thing without giving everyone heart failure,” she finally said.

Harry tilted his head. “I did it without getting burned.”

“That’s not the point,” she said, exasperated.

Neville  spoke up. “That was brilliant, though.” He gave Harry a grin. “You knew exactly what you were doing.

--

The Great Hall was packed, the long tables filled with students buzzing with excitement. The celebration wasn’t officially just for Harry—the other champions were acknowledged, of course—but with Hogwarts as the host school and Harry leading the tournament, the energy in the room was clearly centered around him.

Across the table, Theodore eyed the eggs with mild interest. “Going to open them?”

Harry flicked the egg with his finger, watching it wobble. “Later.”

There were still too many eyes on him, and he wasn’t particularly in the mood to deal with whatever ridiculousness the tournament had planned next. Whatever was inside the eggs could wait.

Further down the table, Draco leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. “I still say you should’ve roasted at least one of the dragons just for the show.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Yes, because that’s what the judges were looking for—maximum property damage.”

Draco smirked. “Would’ve been entertaining.”

“Watching Harry nearly get his face clawed off was entertaining enough,” Tracey said. “Pretty sure half the school thought he was going to get eaten when he jumped off the broom.”

“Almost wish I had,” Harry said dryly. “Might’ve shut them up.”

A few students from other houses drifted over, mostly offering congratulations or staring at him like he was some kind of magical creature himself.