Harry Potter with Technology System

Dumbledore stepped forward, signaling for quiet. "The second task has officially concluded. Champions, you may return to your common rooms and rest. The third and final task will be announced in due time. Congratulations to all participants."

The judges began filing away, though Karkaroff looked like he wanted to launch himself into the lake just to avoid speaking to anyone. The students, however, lingered, especially those still buzzing from the spectacle Harry had put on.

Harry stretched his arms, then glanced at the others. "Right. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving."

Daphne raised a brow. "You did nothing but stand on a lake for five minutes."

"Exactly," Harry said. "Exhausting work."

Neville, still toweling himself off, sighed. "If we go inside, will everyone stop staring at me like I just fought a dragon?"

"No promises," Ginny said.

They made their way back toward the castle, ignoring the lingering stares. As they reached the Entrance Hall, a small group of Beauxbatons students passed by, their eyes flickering toward Neville. One girl, clearly older, smiled at him before whispering something in French to her friend. They both giggled.

Neville groaned. "Brilliant. Just brilliant."

Pansy smirked. "Well, you did get kissed in front of the entire school. That’s practically a marriage proposal in Hogwarts terms."

Blaise was relentless. "Can’t believe Neville was first to get a kiss in our age group. Always figured it’d be Harry. Emperor Potter, your reign is over. No matter how many achievements you rack up, you can’t beat that."

Harry nodded solemnly. "True. We shall now address him as Emperor Longbottom, the fair Ruler of Love and Flirtation."

The group snickered while Neville groaned, pulling his cloak tighter around himself. "Oh, come on. It wasn’t even like that."

"Sure it wasn’t," Tracey teased. "Keep telling yourself that, Loverboy."

Astoria, still wrapped in her blanket like a sulking owl, glanced at him. "It was very dramatic, though. Diving into the freezing lake, emerging with Fleur’s sister in your arms… and then the kiss? I’d say that’s worth a headline."

"You lot are insufferable," Neville muttered, stuffing his damp gloves into his pocket.

Ginny grinned. "This is Hogwarts, Neville. One public display of anything, and you’re stuck with it for the rest of your life."

Luna gasped, looking genuinely distressed. “That won’t do, Harry. I’ll help you.”

Before Harry could react, she leaned in, clearly intending to plant a kiss on his lips. He raised a hand and placed it on her head, stopping her with pats.

“No need to rush,” he said, amused. “I don’t need to be first, just the best.”

Luna blinked up at him, tilting her head like a curious bird. “Are you sure? It’s a strategic advantage.”

Tracey let out a loud snort. “Merlin, she’s actually considering this from a tactical standpoint.”

Daphne sighed, rubbing her temple. “Of course she is.”

Ginny, sitting beside them, was grinning. “You lot are unbelievable.”

Luna stepped back, thoughtful. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know.”

Harry smirked. “I’ll keep that in mind, Luna.”

Following days were calmer, but everyone could see Neville and Fleur were spending more time together. It wasn’t anything dramatic—just small moments here and there. Neville would walk with her between classes, and Fleur, usually reserved around most Hogwarts students, actually seemed to enjoy his company.

Ginny found it hilarious. "I can’t believe it," she muttered, watching them from across the Great Hall. "Neville Longbottom. Hogwarts' most eligible bachelor."

Tracey smirked. "Are we sure it's not the hero complex? Saving her sister and all that?"

Pansy scoffed. "Please. If Fleur just wanted a ‘hero,’ she could’ve picked someone flashier. No, she actually likes him."

Daphne glanced over at them. "He's polite, doesn't act like an idiot around her, and isn't trying to impress her every second. Honestly, it's probably refreshing for her."

Harry, sitting next to Daphne, took a sip of his pumpkin juice. "Or she just enjoys watching him turn red every time she talks to him."

That earned a round of snickers from the table. Neville, oblivious to all of this, had just held the door open for Fleur as they left the Great Hall, and judging by the way he nearly tripped over his own feet afterward, the teasing wasn’t stopping anytime soon.

Tracey leaned closer to Harry. "So, what’s next, oh mighty two-time champion? Any more reality-breaking stunts planned?"

Harry smirked. "I don’t know, Trace. Any suggestions?"

She grinned. "Oh, I’m sure I can come up with something. Maybe we should see how much of the castle we can explore without getting caught. I heard there’s a hidden wine cellar somewhere—"

Astoria nudged Tracey with a smirk. “Wanna sneak out with Harry? Find a broom closet to snog in?”

Tracey gave her a flat look. “You first.”

Astoria grinned. “Tempting, but I think I’ll wait for a grander setting. Maybe the Astronomy Tower, under the stars, with dramatic music in the background.”

Pansy snorted. “So, you want a whole theatrical production? Should we bring an audience, too?”

“Obviously.” Astoria grinned like a little imp. “What’s the point of being a hostage if I don’t milk it for all it’s worth?”

Harry rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “You already have.”

Astoria beamed. “And I’ll continue to do so.”

Daphne sighed. “Let’s just go before she starts writing a memoir about it.”

March came and went, then Easter arrived, bringing with it another of Harry’s now-expected traditions—an Easter Egg Hunt. But this time, it was bigger. With both Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students now familiar with the Duelling Club’s magical books, they could easily participate.

Harry had decided on a themed hunt, incorporating elements from different magical cultures alongside aspects of the first two tournament tasks. Some eggs were hidden in enchanted locations requiring problem-solving to retrieve, while others contained minor challenges inspired by magical traditions around the world. It wasn’t just about finding eggs; it was about working through puzzles, breaking simple enchantments, and sometimes, dealing with minor magical creatures placed strategically for extra fun.

Predictably, the event turned into a competitive frenzy. Hogwarts students, already used to Harry’s events, had a head start, but the visiting schools caught on quickly. Beauxbatons students, particularly those familiar with charms, excelled at detecting enchantments, while the Durmstrang lot—who favored brute force—tended to smash through obstacles rather than work around them. It was chaotic, noisy, and entirely entertaining.

Madame Maxime was particularly taken with the whole thing. She had been watching closely since the tournament began, already impressed by the magical books that had become essential to Hogwarts’ Duelling Club. Seeing how seamlessly the students engaged in structured magical exercises through the hunt, she had started talking to Harry more often about implementing something similar at Beauxbatons. She wasn’t subtle about it, either.

“This,” she had said, gesturing toward a group of her students eagerly debating a ward-breaking puzzle to retrieve a particularly stubborn egg, “is what education should look like.”

By the time the event wrapped up, Maxime had all but confirmed she wanted a permanent version of this in her school. She even floated the idea of starting a tradition of friendly competitions between Hogwarts and Beauxbatons. Harry had agreed to visit during the summer to help set it up.

With the hunt behind them, life at Hogwarts settled back into its usual rhythm—classes, training, and the occasional minor disaster. The castle buzzed with post-task speculations, everyone trying to guess what the third challenge would be. Theories ranged from a death battle with Death Eaters to a full-on battle royale.

Fred and George were taking bets, of course.

“I say they throw you all in the Forbidden Forest and let you figure it out,” Fred announced one evening.

George nodded sagely. “Or maybe just lock you in a room with Rita Skeeter. See who cracks first.”

Harry smirked. “Oh, I would win that one.”

Tracey chimed in. “That’s because you’d actually crack her. Probably in half.”

Daphne sipped her tea. “Five Sickles says they’ll try and make it a test of leadership. Force you to guide a group through something ridiculous.”

Blaise snorted. “If that’s the case, Potter wins by default. Half the school already follows him around anyway.”

It wasn’t an unfair point.

As April stretched on, Hogwarts saw an increase in Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students lingering around the Duelling Club. More and more of them were joining the training sessions, eager to test themselves against Hogwarts’ students.

Durmstrang’s lot brought their aggressive, combat-heavy style, which clashed interestingly against Hogwarts’ mix of tactics. Beauxbatons students, on the other hand, had a precision-focused approach, excelling in control-based magic. The result was an unexpected blending of styles, which made for some of the best duels of the year.

Harry had no complaints. He was more than happy to let them all fight it out.

Krum had been one of the more frequent visitors, often dueling with Hogwarts’ best. He was a skilled duelist—fast, aggressive, and with a natural sense for combat. But against someone like Daphne, who thrived on counters and adaptability, or Hermione, who exploited every rule and technical advantage available, he had to work for his wins.

It wasn’t just Krum, either. Fleur had started taking part as well, though more selectively. She was less interested in direct combat and more focused on refining her spellwork. But even with her careful approach, she was competitive, and she didn’t like losing.

“You don’t take it easy, do you?” she had muttered after a particularly rough duel with Tracey.

Tracey had smirked. “Wouldn’t be fun if we did.”