HP:BSG - Chapter 695: The Trap Behind the Trophy

Clementine bit her lip hard as she peered through the thicket, watching Wade and Harry talking beside the Goblet of Fire.

Driven deliberately by the cheetah doll, she had been circling around — and before she knew it, she actually found the trophy!

But clearly, she was too late. The two of them had already arrived before her. Yet instead of seizing the Goblet, they stood there with grim expressions, deep in what seemed like an urgent conversation.

Clementine’s fingertips dug deep into her palms.

Something is wrong — terribly wrong.

Why has Wade Grey’s doll led me straight to where the trophy is?

Could it be… that the doll has betrayed its creator?

But even if that alchemical creature has turned against its master, how could it possibly be helping her?

Clementine wasn’t some goldfish with a seven-second memory. Of course she remembered — she had killed one of its companions right before its eyes! There was no reason for it to help her.

And yet…

The chance to become champion was right there before her eyes. No matter how she got hold of the trophy — as long as she could just touch it — it would mean she had defeated Wade Grey!

That temptation was as alluring and deadly as poison. Clementine couldn’t help but raise her wand and whisper:

“Accio trophy!”

“Accio Goblet of Fire!”

But the golden cup didn’t move an inch. It was clearly protected by a counter-charm.

Of course — the organizers of the Tournament would never make such a careless mistake.

A faint wave of disappointment washed over her.

Even though Wade and Harry didn’t seem to be on guard at all, she still didn’t think she could defeat the two of them with a surprise attack.

And yet…

If the cheetah had led her here, was it just to make her watch herself lose?

If its motive was really that simple, that would almost be a relief.

The girl turned back, scanning the underbrush for the cheetah’s silhouette.

The moment she turned her head, her heart jolted violently—

The cheetah was standing just behind her, not far away, and its mouth was slightly curved upward. Its once-gentle eyes now held a glint of mocking amusement.

It seemed to be saying: “Look — isn’t that the trophy you’ve always dreamed of? I’ve shown you a shortcut!”

Clementine felt ice flood her veins.

She suddenly realized — this wasn’t guidance toward victory at all. It was the predator’s taunt as it watched its prey walk willingly into the trap.

Her blood froze, and a chill raced up her spine to the back of her neck.

By the time Clementine came back to her senses, a sudden thought surged up in her mind — I have to tell Wade Grey about the cheetah’s strange behavior!

Although the cheetah was one of Wade’s dolls, Clementine had a strong intuition: what it was doing might not be by Wade Grey’s command at all.

Whatever it is plotting, right now, perhaps the only person who can stop it is Wade himself!

Clementine made up her mind. She turned around sharply — only to find that the two of them were gone.

They had completely vanished, and in their place, a single bluebird hurled itself into the Goblet of Fire in a suicidal dive, disappearing without a trace — not even a feather left behind.

“…What…?”

The girl froze, murmuring blankly.

Crack!

Suddenly, she heard the sound of a branch snapping.

Clementine spun around — the cheetah doll had somehow crept up to within five meters of her, silent as death. Its eyes flickered in the dim forest light, like twin ghostly flames dancing in the dark.

Clementine stumbled backward in panic, waving her hands frantically.

“Wait—wait, I’m sorry, all right? I apologize! I’m really sorry for burning your companion, but we were all competitors in the tournament, it was fair play— Confringo!”

The cheetah leapt lightly aside. The blasting curse struck a cluster of branches, sending a burst of sparks flying with a loud whoosh. Clementine’s face went pale.

“Protego! Diffindo! Bombarda!”

One spell after another shot out, but the cheetah moved like a phantom, dodging every strike with eerie grace. 

Then it suddenly bared its fangs, crouched low, and sprang — its hind legs coiling like springs, spine arching in a violent stretch, before it lunged straight at her!

The killing intent was razor-sharp, slicing through the air — and in that instant, Clementine had no doubt that if it got the chance, this creature would sink its teeth right into her throat.

She screamed, hurling a Shield Charm before turning to run. Her mind screamed danger, but at that moment, raw survival instinct drowned out everything else!

And in this situation, there was only one path left open to her—

Clementine spun and dove toward the trophy. The moment her fingers brushed the cold metal surface, the entire world began to twist and distort.

Whoosh!

The cheetah, delayed only a heartbeat by the Shield Charm, pounced again — its claws slashed through the space where Clementine had just stood. The girl felt a sharp pain flare across her back, and then everything around her spun wildly out of control.

The cheetah stood still and glanced around.

The area around the Goblet was deathly quiet — no master, no enemies, no lizard, not even the bluebird that had been recording the tournament.

It stared blankly at the thicket nearby, as if it had lost its purpose.

After a long, confused pause, the cheetah tentatively reached out a paw and touched the Goblet. Its figure vanished instantly.

…

Harry staggered to his feet, and his knees were aching from the impact of the fall. Adjusting his crooked glasses, he looked around anxiously and asked with a tight voice —

“Where are we?”

“At any rate,” Wade replied, “not the school… and not the ceremony platform.”

Wade spoke in a seemingly casual tone, though a trace of tension flickered beneath the surface.

He reached out to pull Harry to his feet, and his eyes scanned the surroundings alertly while his fingers tapped three times on the badge pinned to his chest.

Under the pale moonlight, Harry finally saw where they were—

They stood in the central courtyard of an abandoned monastery. Once-grand cloisters had collapsed into ruin; the remaining stone columns jutted upward like the broken fingers of a giant pointing toward the night sky. 

Shards of stained glass still clung to the shattered windows, and fragments of old religious scenes glimmered faintly—half-faded human figures that now seemed eerily distorted.

A damaged statue of the Virgin Mary leaned crookedly in a patch of weeds, and her stone features were worn smooth by centuries of wind and rain. In the distance, the bell tower stood miraculously intact—but dark streaks ran down its outer wall, spreading slowly, like trails of blood.

Harry gripped his wand tightly; his palms were slick with cold sweat. Wade crouched to inspect the strange, radiating marks etched into the ground.

“Looks like someone performed dark magic here,” Wade murmured. “But I don’t think it was him. The symbols here—”

He didn’t finish.

A streak of blue light flashed before their eyes—the familiar bluebird suddenly appeared, fluttering in confusion before beginning to circle the area, and its tiny form scattered faint golden sparks as it moved.

Then Harry noticed something unsettling—thin wisps of golden mist had spread around them, curling close to the ground.

“What is this?”

He instinctively tried to cover his mouth and nose—only to freeze in horror as he realized his hands were shrinking before his eyes!

Harry twisted toward Wade, only to find that the same thing was happening to him:

Their bodies were rapidly shrinking, their eyes were growing round and wide, their faces were softening into childlike features. Their limbs shortened; their robes slipped off their bodies. The shirts beneath hung loosely over their small shoulders, like oversized nightgowns.

Time is flowing backward over us.

That clear realization flickered through Harry’s mind—then began to blur. His thoughts grew hazy, wrapped in fog.

“Destroy that bird!”

A hoarse voice rang out from the darkness.

The bluebird jolted in alarm, beating its wings frantically to take flight—but a blinding flash of light struck it midair.

With a sharp, pained cry, it shattered into countless fragments of blue and gold, scattering like sparks in the wind.

The final image it captured was of two small children, drowning in oversized clothes, staring around in utter confusion.

When Harry opened his eyes again, his chubby little hands were clutching the hem of his “nightgown,” and he couldn’t understand why he was no longer at the Dursleys’—or why he was in this frightening place.

Then he heard another voice, just as childish, asking in a rather rude tone:

“Hey, kid—who are you?”

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