Oh You Didn't Know? Yeah, He's Awesome Chapter 4, a harry potter fanfic

Title: Oh You Didn't Know? Yeah, He's Awesome

Rating: T – M

Genre: Humor/Adventure/Drama

Pairings: None yet

Warning: Some Violence. Explicit Language. SLASH. Movie and Book verse mixed and matched

Summary: Remember Goblet of Fire? What would happen if Harry took the filter off his mouth and actually said what he's thinking? Bad things, probably. But it'll be fun as hell. My go at the Intelligent!Harry, Smart alec!Harry situation.

~oOo~

Chapter 4

The pasty orange burn salve was barely dry on his face before Cedric Diggory was up and walking and practically creating a hole in the dirt floor with his pacing. He was in the little hospital tent with Krum and Fleur. A month ago Cedric would be inwardly squealing with joy while trying to keep a cool but approachable appearance at the prospect of being in the same room as these two.

An international Quidditch super star? A girl with honest to Merlin veela blood in her? Stuff like this does not happen to Hufflepuffs, popular or not. In fact, this was just the kind of random yet wicked thing that would happen to Harry Potter.

Which was why, despite all logic telling him otherwise, for a little while he believed it when they said Potter had put his name in the Goblet of Fire. And he was right pissed off about it too!

Thankfully, reason kicked in pretty quick and the likelihood of a Fourth Year, even if it was Harry Potter, hoodwinking one of Dumbledore's spells was ludicrous. He let it go, but a simmering resentment had remained. He didn't know how deeply that resentment had taken root until today.

All last night he'd felt his conscious was cleared. He'd tried to tell Potter about the dragons several times. It wasn't his fault that Potter was being so…so weird that he couldn't organize his thoughts fast enough to tell him! And for all he knew Potter already knew about the dragons, and he'd just made himself look like a jabbering idiot for five minutes. What were the odds of Professor Moody speaking to him after his office hours, if not to reveal the Task's big secret?

Besides, in the end this was a competition! A sport! And just like any other sport having one up on your opponent was the nature of the game. Surely Potter, as a fellow athlete, would understand that?

But then he saw the look of shock and fear in those emerald green orbs as Fleur pulled out her model dragon, and the fact that Potter had not put his name in the cup and he was fourteen and Cedric had just let a fourteen year old fight a dragon without saying a word came crashing down on him all at once. He wanted to throw up and cry and hit something and beg forgiveness all at the same time.

Suddenly Cedric whirled on the other two Champions, his helpless anger needing an outlet. "Why didn't you guys say anything to him!?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," said Fleur, "I knew nothing of the First Task until today." She was sat up on her hospital cot; her foot wrapped and propped up with a pillow. In the midst of putting out the fire on her skirts she managed to twist her ankle, but was able to cover it up before the judges took notice and deducted points.

Krum, sitting on the edge of his cot with arms crossed defiantly, had also sustained some injury on his left shoulder – the slash a result of a mere grazing from his dragon's tale – which Bagman seemed ridiculously enthusiastic about pointing out.

The medic tent was apparently a last minute addition, at least according to Madam Pomfrey's angry muttering. There was another section adjacent to them separated by a tent flap, but as none of them were overly injured Pomfrey had put them in the same room.

"Oh please," Cedric sneered, "I saw Madam Maxime and Karkaroff snooping around the night they brought the dragons in, and somehow I doubt they kept that bit of information to themselves."

"You cannot prove anything without implicating yourself," Fleur looked down her nose at him, giving up all pretenses apparently. "And if you believe that the boy was clueless about ze task then you are a fool."

"Are you deaf? Or did you not hear him earlier?"

"Clearly a performance."

"What would be the point? He obviously didn't tell on us!"

"W-well if he was so worried about the danger then maybe he should 'ave thought of that before he put his name in the cup!"

"Is that what we should write on his tomb stone?"

Fleur reared back as if she'd been slapped.

"Vhy didn't you tell him?"

Cedric startled at the sound of the heavy Bulgarian accent. He hadn't heard the older teen since…actually he had never heard him speak, not even when everyone was arguing the night the Champions were named. He barely remembered Krum being there, come to think of it.

For a guy who was every die hard Quidditch fan's wet dream come to life he sure knew how to disappear in a room…

He'd been hanging around Potter far too much.

"What?"

"Vhy didn't you tell Potter yourselv? You are both from Hogvorts, yes? I thought Hogvorts students had more loyalty towards each other. More than Durmstrang at least."

"I did! I mean…I tried to but…" Cedric sighed, running a tired hand down his face, "I don't think I tried hard enough."

"Hmph," Fleur piped in, overly triumphant, "and you were zo queek to blame uz, when you only care about winning az well!"

"This stopped being about winning when a child was forced to enter a competition for adults. We, all of us," Krum looked pointedly at Fleur, "should haf remembered that."

He was right. Of course he was right. That didn't make the leaden feeling of guilt in his stomach lighten any. "What should we do now?" Cedric said in a smaller voice than he would've liked.

Krum's stoic visage seemed to soften a little as he sighed. "We vait for the Task to end. Hope for the best."

Cedric's shoulders slumped. He knew there was nothing he could do at this point. He'd made his choice with his half assed attempt last night, and now poor Harry had to deal with the consequences.

Krum's solid hand squeezed Cedric's shoulder comfortingly. If he had been in the mood he would mentally declare that he would never wash that shoulder again. As it stood, all he wanted to do now was curl into a corner and keel over. "I haf seen him many times in the library practicing spells. It vas very impressive. He vill manage."

"And now for our youngest Champion," Bagman's voice boomed from outside, "representing Hogwarts; Harry Potter!"

Boo's and cheers blasted across the arena. Cedric wanted to think that the heckling was just coming from Slytherin House, but knew that it was coming from everyone except the Gryffindors.

"…What a show of competiveness! Is it alight to share with him, Judges? Excellent! Eight minutes, Potter. Now let's see what you're made of!"

Cedric's brows rose. He turned to Krum, who mirrored his bewildered gaze. "What's he want to know your time for?"

Krum shrugged, but didn't offer any speculation. It seemed he had filled his speaking quota for the day.

"…and it looks like Potter is going to try his hand at some transfiguration. But can he outdo Diggory's impressive Labrador?"

"That's it Harry, don't try anything fancy. Just do what I did and get out of there," Cedric muttered, relieved that the Boy-Who-Lived seemed to be honest in his intention to just survive this Tournament as low key as possible.

"…appears to have transformed a rock into some sort of…small…multicolored cube. I've never seen such a device before! As far as weapons go this has to be the strangest I have ever seen. How will Potter use this unusual creation to get his golden egg?"

Cedric felt his confusion increase as Bagman's commentating went on. If he didn't know any better, then the Hufflepuff would say that Harry had created a bloody rubik's cube. 'What the hell are you playing at kid?'

The minutes ticked by, and Bagman added nothing further to clue the Champion's in as to what was going on in the dragon enclosure, only exclaiming now and then how "the clock was ticking" and "if you don't make a move soon Potter you be at the bottom no matter what spell you use!"

A half hour past, and Cedric was starting to think Harry's strategy was to sit there until the judges told him to go away, when Bagman said; "Oh! It looks like Potter's finally going to make a move, folks! It had better be something spectacular if he wants to make up for that time wasted…Seems he's going for a daring, direct approa – what on earth is he –!? DEAR LORD!"

The crowd exploded with screams. Fleur sat up with a gasp while Krum hopped to his feet. Cedric followed suit, expression wild with worry as he felt his heart drop into his stomach.

"Mon deiu, what have we done," Fleur whispered, hand fluttering to her mouth and ocean blue eyes wide with horror.

"THE DRAGON TAMERS!" Bagman's shouts were earpierceing with the sonorous charm. "SOMEONE GET THE DRAGON TAMERS! HURRY – GET HIM OUT OF THERE DAMNIT!"

Abruptly the crowds screams tapered off, and a collective "whooshing" sound was heard, as if everyone had simultaneously gasped. 'Please no,' Cedric thought. His throat was so tight he couldn't swallow. Soon to be shed tears pricked the corner of his eyes. 'Please…don't be dead…Oh God please…' He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe!

"Oh…my God. In-incredible…" Bagman breathed out.

~oOo~

Harry stared blankly at the mama Hungarian Horntail.

She stared back; crouched low over her clutch of eggs, wings half furled, spiked tail thrashing about, yellow eyes giving him the once over, and just…huge. As. Fuck.

"Oh my various wizard gods," Harry deadpanned.

"And now for our youngest Champion," Bagman boomed, happy as can be as usual. Harry wanted to choke him, "representing Hogwarts; Harry Potter!"

"Boooooooooo!" half the crowd answered.

Oh, how cute. With great restraint Harry reeled in the urge to do something childish; like give everyone the two finger salute, or whip off his pants and dishonor them with a celebratory booty dance.

Psh. They didn't deserve to feast their eyes upon his glorious butt cheeks.

Harry inhaled and exhaled slowly, going over the intricate step by step plan he had woven within his brain five minutes ago one last time, before reluctantly taking his eyes off the dragon and turning to Bagman.

He quickly cast the sonorous charm on himself and said, "Mr. Bagman! Mind telling me what Krum's time was?"

Bagman blinked in bewilderment before recovering with a bright smile. "What a show of competiveness! Is it alight to share with him, Judges?" From their raised seats the judges – Barty Crouch, Dumbledore, Maxime, and Karkaroff – leaned over and exchanged whispers. After a moment Crouch nodded for all of them. "Excellent! Eight minutes, Potter. Now let's see what you're made of!"

After a quick nod to himself for courage, Harry canceled the sonorous and set the alarm on his watch to go off in a half hour. Maybe that was a little overkill on the timing, but Harry was taking no chances with this. He then pointed his wand at a nearby rock and, after a bit of thought, transfigured it into a rubik's cube. Ever since Dudley had chucked the 3D puzzle at him in Primary School Harry had always been fascinated by the muggle toy. Plus he could never figure the damn things out, even when he cheated. They were the devil's creation. Really though.

With as little grace as possible, the small Gryffindor plopped down on the ground crossed legged and fiddled with the cube.

Time passed. Bagman's commentary quickly descended into scolding warnings and then near pleading. The crowd's excited chatter turned into confused and irritated whispers, which was well on its way to heckling again. Even the dragon seemed impatient. She heaved yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground, sort of like how a cat does when they knead their paws into fabric except…ya know, less cuddly and more maim-y.

Despite all the tension Harry waited. He waited and waited and by the time he had finished the yellow side of the cube (a new record. Brilliant) his watch finally went beep-beep, beep-beep!

Harry pocketed the cube and made a show of stretching as he stood up.

Phase one of First Task Fail: Gather intel about lowest egg nabbing time. Complete.

Phase two of FTF: Screw around with a stupid little toy and anger the masses. Complete.

Phase three of FTF: Waste enough time so your score will be lower than dirt. Complete

And now for Phase four, the pièce de résistance, the icing on the cake, the bacon to his BLT….The Injury.

Harry picked up a pebble and tossed it thoughtfully in his hand, eyeing the great lizard with careful contemplation. Now if he were a dragon, what part of the body would piss him off the most if it were prodded repeatedly?

Harry thought of every animal Dudley had ever tormented in the history of Dursley douchery. One thing stood out to him as clear as the Saran Wrap his cousin used to tape to a cat 's paws. "Tail," he said with a decisive nod.

Don't tickle a sleeping dragon, right? Right. Well, here's another tip; don't throw small rocks at a dragon's tail like it's a junk-car in an empty parking lot.

"Oh!" Bagman perked up. "It looks like Potter's finally going to make a move, folks! It had better be something spectacular if he wants to make up for that time wasted!"

Harry tossed the pebble as hard as he could. He barely spared a worry for her; a pebble combined with his less than measly human strength wouldn't even register on her pain scale. It didn't take long for the pebble to make contact. With a tiny little bounce, the pebble slid down the massive scales and…

CRACK!

The dragon's tail connected with his torso, solid stone and steel against fragile flesh and bones. The force of it sent him flying across the enclosure. He didn't even think it properly. All that went through his mind was "landing" and "will be pancake", and with those disjointed thoughts he somehow, miraculously, cast a cushioning charm on himself.

And not a moment too soon. His back collided with one of the scenic boulders. The charm held up enough to keep his innards being liquefied and shattering his bones, but not enough to shield him from the earth shattering pain wracking his tiny frame from the impact. He slid down the rock and fell to the ground, sprawled out on his stomach.

It took several eternities before he could draw breath, only for it to send shards-of-glass agony through his chest. People were screaming, Bagman was hysterically shouting something about Dragon Tamers, and the she-beast herself gave an ear-piercing ROAR that shook the whole enclosure.

A large part of him just wanted to lay there until he blacked out, a smaller part was ranting on what a stupid fuck he was for doing this, and an even tinier part than that was doing a little victory cha-cha at the fact that this stunt was sure to put him in the bottom…wahoo!

His lips curled into a smile as the thought that his fuck-tard plan actually worked quickly became his only focus. The taste of victory snapped him back into reality; the task was still going on, he still needed to finish it, mama dragon was standing on her hind legs and rearing her head back and about to do something that would likely mean no more Harry Potter.

Grunting and gritting his teeth, the little Gryffindor used all his strength to push himself off the ground. Slowly, inch by inch, Harry stood back up, hunched over and coughing uncontrollably. Blood crept up his throat and splattered on the ground with each hacking cough. His legs shook underneath him, but he fought against to urge to collapse.

Tendrils of flame gathered in the dragon's mouth, forming a mini cyclone of yellow-orange-red hot death. There was no way he could run; he couldn't even bring himself to move his quickly weakening body behind a rock, let alone try to leap out of the way. Just one choice then, at least there was only one he could think of with his brain as addled as it was. He raised his wand – him; a trembling, blood drenched, tiny, mess – and pointed it at the Hungarian Horntail, his other arm curled around his stomach in a vain attempt to stave off the pain.

The Hungarian Horntail flung her head, long elegant neck snapping forward, and let loose a wave of fire.

"Commutatus Borrire!" (1)

A small point of sky blue light appeared on the tip of his wand. The light expanded over him like an umbrella, cooling his skin like someone had turned on an air conditioner. The fire connected with his spell, completely surrounding him in a blazing inferno.

For several moments all that could be seen was a ball of fire.

Then, a ring of translucent…something….formed around where Harry stood. Slowly, little by little, the substance crawled up the flames. Consuming it, replacing it, and leaving more in its wake. As the mysterious entity climbed up the rushing fire, it became obvious what it was.

Bubbles.

Thousands upon billions of sudsy. Harmless. Bubbles.

The stream of bubbles soon reached the inside of the dragon's mouth, winking out any remaining flames. The Horntail's yellow eyes widened in what could only be described as shocked panic. She snapped her jaws shut and dropped back down to all fours, like a puppy that had been bopped on the head and didn't understand why. She opened her mouth, trying to let out another fire attack, but all she did was make a hacking noise and spout more bubbles. Several times she tried this; shaking her great head around and sending jets of bubbles all around the enclosure like one of those toy automatic bubble guns.

Lower to the ground, a large sphere of bubbles floated lazily before dispersing as well, revealing Harry Potter – uncooked, not even singed – once again.

Hazy jade eyes passed over the dragon, who was doing a remarkable impression of a wild fire hose with the water on too high, and landed on the nest of dragon eggs. He gathered the meager remains of his strength and swung his arm in a wide, graceful arc, shouting, "Terra Talitrum!" (2) As his wand pointed to the ground in the midst of his swing a fissure appeared in the earth and raced across the enclosure until it reached the nest. The moment his arm came up, his wand pointed high, the golden egg launched itself into the air. It arced over the dragon and through the fog of bubbles. It sped down towards Harry and he caught it with his other arm with an "oomf". The weight and force made him tilt to the side but he thankfully managed to right himself.

"Oh…my God. In-incredible…" Bagman breathed out, his boisterous voice rendered quiet with awe, with reverence.

For point five seconds, the entire stadium went quiet. So quiet that you could hear even the tiniest ant crawling on the ground…

Then, the audience practically broke the sound barrier with cheers and applause.

"I can't believe my eyes," Bagman continued to stammer, though you could barely hear him over all the other noise. "That…incredible…just incredible."

Swaying in his spot, Harry looked around him in consternation. 'No-no-no-no-no 'the fuck shit is this? Are they cheering? No! They can't be cheering! Why the hell are they cheering!?' he thought hysterically. No amount of mental commandments could stop the audience from enjoying his spell. Everyone, young and old, gaped happily at the bubbles, hopping and frolicking around trying to catch them.

His downward spiral into a stupendous fit of bat-shit crazy was thankfully interrupted by the sound of a booming, guttural voice; "~What have you done…ack! Damned human! My flames! What magic is – ACK! What have you done!?~"

The slight hissing quality to the voice immediately clued Harry in to what was going on. It wasn't too much a stretch of the imagination that dragons and snakes spoke a similar language, being in the reptile family and all…maybe. Whatever, he could figure out the logistics later when he wasn't bleeding out. "~Calm down woman!~" he called up to the dragon impatiently. The mighty creature froze at the address and stared back at him, occasionally hiccupping more bubbles. "~The spell'l wear off eventually, jeeze!~"

"~Vile human! You have poisoned me with your magic!~"

"~I didn't poison you. Stop being so dramatic.~"

"~Cruel, evil human! My hatchlings will be orphans now!~"

"~You were the one that launched me into next Saturday!~" Harry shouted indignantly, shaking his fist at the Horntail.

"~I was – acckkk – defending myself!~"

"~It was just a pebble! You need to work on your anger management issues lady. And stop dancing around before you squish your eggs!~"

"~My eggs!~" She whirled around and nuzzled around her nest, suddenly a gentle and sensitive little mommy kitty.

Harry smacked his hand to his forehead at the sight. "I can't take this shit anymore," he muttered.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Bagman went on, having to shriek above the noise of the crowd, even with the sonorous, "suspend your disbelief! Not only did Harry Potter do the impossible by transfiguring dragon fire, dragon fire, into bubbles, he appears to be…trash talking the Horntail! A-apparently he knows the language of the most ancient magical creature in our world – but what can we expect from the Boy-Who-Lived but the amazing, the spectacular, the absolutely unbelievable! Truly this day will go down in Triwizard Tournament history!"

Harry saw the dragon keepers rushing forward to subdue the Horntail, and, over at the entrance to the enclosure, Professor McGonagall, Moody, and Hagrid hurrying to meet him. All of them wore expression that varied between fear and amazement.

"You foolish, foolish boy," McGonagall breathed fiercely, pulling him into a hug as bubbles floated lazily out of her hair. In fact, they were all covered in bubbles to some extent. Seeing Moody with a sudsy Santa beard somehow made him more intimidating though.

McGonagall conjured a stretcher and made it float. "Here now, let's get you to the Hospital Tent."

"Mrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh, I hate the stupid hospital," Harry muttered petulantly.

"I will have none of that young man," McGonagall snapped sternly. "You could have been killed –!" her breath hitched. She closed her eyes and seemed to compose herself. "Now hold still while I levitate you."

With an exaggerated pout Harry allowed himself to be floated onto the stretcher.

They lead him out of the enclosure, McGonagall still murmuring about how foolish he was and that he was going to give her a heart attack one of these days.

"I did tell ya not to be flashy, didn't I Potter?" Moody looked very pleased despite his tone, his magical eye dancing in its socket.

"Yeh're really somethin' else, Harry," Hagrid said, gently patting his shoulder. "But please, don' ever try a stunt like tha' again."

Harry gazed up at them with big green earnest eyes. "M'sorry," he said to Hagrid, but placed a hand on McGonagall's so she knew he included her in on the apology too. He didn't mean to worry people, he just never thought about others' reactions when it came to his safety, as shitty as that sounded. No one had ever cared about him before Hogwarts.

McGonagall gave him a tight smile in return. He hoped he was forgiven, as he truly hated putting that expression of anxiety on his favorite Head of House's face.

Madam Pomfrey was waiting out at the mouth of the medic tent, pale as a ghost and wringing her hands. Oh hell in a hand-basket, she must have seen what had happened, or at least heard Bagman's terror filled ramblings. Now he couldn't even play off his injuries.

Once the three Professor's dropped him off and Harry was settled on his cot, the Mediwitch immediately began casting a diagnostic spell and summoning several potions to her. "Severe bruising on the ribs, back, lungs and stomach, several scratches, two of them deep lacerations on the back…"

She made him drink several potions; all of them were disgusting on their own but combined? Combined they tasted like juicy butter socks with a hint of armpit farts. Bleh!

Taste aside, the potions did their trick. The throbbing pain in his back and stomach that flared up at every movement slowly faded into a numbness that made him feel gloriously light headed. After dabbing a purple liquid on his cuts that stung and smoked, she pointed her wand at them and they healed instantly. The ugly, dark black-blue bruising all over his torso remained though, apparently too extensive to be healed with a spell at that moment.

"Dragons," she tutted in disgust, "they have no business being a school full of children, and this just proves it! You'll be on bed rest for weeks because of this Mr. Potter. Oh you poor dear," the Mediwitch cooed, running her hand through his hair briefly. "What were they thinking putting such a little thing like you against a wild animal?"

Harry blinked blurrily at her, "The dragon wasn't that little."

She chuckled, though Harry couldn't imagine why. That dragon knew what she was getting into…

Damnit! He wasn't short! Who voted Poppy Pomfrey King Boss of Size Declaration anyway? Nobody that's who!

She petted his hair again and he fairly purred at the attention….Fine! He would be indignant at her later. And she'd best watch out too, for his ire was formidable when unleashed.

"Now you just sit tight – stop shaking your fist at nothing! Honestly, you get the silliest side effects from these potions – and let the potions do their work. I'll bring back a Sleeping Draught for you in a moment."

She bustled out of the tent and he heard her go next door and say, "How does it feel now, Diggory?"

"What happened!" he heard Cedric exclaim, panic-stricken worry in his voice. "Is he alright? He's not hurt too badly is he? Is he!?"

Before he could marinate on that bit of information, Hermione came darting inside the tent.

"Harry!" She flung herself at him and grabbed him in a hug. Just as well that Pomfrey had numbed him to the tits because this would really be hurting him right about now.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeey," he greeted faintly.

"I was so frightened. I thought you – and then you – WHAT WERE YOU THINKING HARRY JAMES POTTER!?"

"Uhhhhh…Yolo?" (3)

Hermione stared at him.

"You're right. That's too abstract, even for me."

She looked like she couldn't decide between crying, hugging him again, or punching him in the balls. "You…you…" The intelligent witch growled in frustration as she settled on options 1 and 2 (thank you wizard Jesus), clinging to him a little more gently this time. "You idiotic, amazing, lunatic!" she said in between sobs.

Harry patted her soothingly on the back and smiled. "And I love you, Hermione."

She cried even harder.

Just as Hermione was getting herself together, another person entered the tent, this one a little more hesitantly.

Harry's green eyes flashed. "Well, well, well. Look what Raggedy ass Andy dragged in."

Ron stood at the threshold of the tent. His face was so white that his freckles stood out starkly and he was staring at Harry as though he were a ghost.

"Harry," he said, very seriously, "whoever put your name in that goblet – I-I reckon they're trying to do you in!"

"Brava!" Harry deadpanned, giving a slow golfers clap, "did you figure that out all by yourself? Someone give the man a ginger snap. Get it? 'Cuz your hair is red…I hate you!"

Hermione stood nervously between them, biting her lip as she looked from one to the other.

"Look Harry, I'm really sorry – !"

"You bet your freckled booty that you're sorry! You know I don't like being a part of this grandiose bullshit! How many times do I have to tell you that I don't want this kind of attention! That I hate that the only reason why I'm rich and famous is because my fucking parents were murdered in front of me! And not only do people shove that fact in my face every five seconds, I have a bunch of psychopaths trying to kill me for something I am relatively-fucking-certain I did not do!"

"I KNOW!" Ron burst out. His chest was heaving slightly and his blues eyes were suspiciously bright. "I know all that, okay. I – I messed up. I don't know what I was thinking –"

"You weren't thinking, that's what happened."

"You're right –"

"You were being stupid."

"I know –"

"You were an idiot."

"I know," the redhead growled, frustrated at himself. "I should have believed you wouldn't put your name in – I did really, I was just so – and I should've stood by you too –"

"You should have," Harry said with a firm nod. Suddenly his resolve crumpled, and he said in small voice, "that was mean."

"I know. I'm so sorry."

"You – you're not supposed to do that. Everyone else does that. Not – not you. You're supposed to believe me…and – and you weren't there for a month!"

Ron hesitated for a split second before joining Harry on his cot. Carefully, as if he were fighting against every iota of manly pride that rebelled against this, he wrapped his arm around his small friend's thin shoulder and pulled him into a hug. Harry buried his head on Ron's shoulder without prompting. When they spoke again it was quiet.

"You're a jerk."

"I am."

"And your face is stupid."

"It is."

"You're still my friend?" Harry warbled sadly with a pathetic sniffle.

"Yeah. We're still friends."

"Boys," Hermione whispered exasperatedly, smile watery.

"Group hugggg," Harry deadpanned as he lazily reached behind him, grasping for Hermione's arm.

Giving a part relieved part frazzled laugh, Hermione climbed onto the cot and joined in the three way hug fest.

"The judges have finished deliberating and will now reveal Harry Potter's score!"

Harry grinned a grin most maniacal. "Heh heh, five galleons says I get zeros across the board!"

Hermione and Ron gaped at him with stupefied expressions. They stood there for so long that they had to scurry after Harry as he made his way to the edge of the closure.

"Why on earth would you think that?" said Hermione.

"Why would you want that!?" Ron shrieked incredulously.

"Didn't you guys see me out there? I sucked!" Harry grinned proudly. "My time was the longest, I got hurt, annnnd I used a second year spell. Completely terrible all 'round. There's no way I can't lose."

"Harry, that spell was not second year level," Hermione explained slowly, eyeing him as if he were speaking a different language. "That wasn't even seventh year level! The only thing that can stand against a dragon flames is the skin from a dragon; no spell, enchantment, or ward has ever stood up against it, at least not for very long. What you did was impossible!"

"Nuh uhhh. It said so in the text book I was reading. I mean, it was kinda old but it still said it was for kids in second year back then."

"How old, Harry?"

"Errr, it marked the spell at 1500 BC?"

Again, Hermione could only gape at him. Harry was starting to feel bad about rendering the poor girl speechless so often this month. He hoped that didn't affect your brain cells – Hermione would kill him.

"Wow, I guess Grammy Weasley wasn't exaggerating when she said they didn't make wizards like they used to," Ron muttered. Suddenly, he did a double take at Harry. "Wait a minute, Harry! Did you just say you were trying to purposely loose!? Like…on purpose!?"

"Em, define 'Harry'."

"That hit you took wasn't an accident you…you provoked – you almost killed yourself because you're trying to loose!? Are you out of your mind!?"

Harry laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. He looked between his friends who seemed on the verge of pouncing on him and doing who knows what – bets on that it involved locking him in his dorm wrapped up in blankets with a helmet strapped on him. "Oh look, they're giving the scores!"

And indeed, Madame Maxime stood from her seat and raised her wand in the air. A long silver ribbon shot out of the tip (heh, tip) and twisted itself into a large nine.

The crowd applauded. Harry's jaw dropped. "What."

Mr. Crouch came next. He shot a number ten into the air.

"What!? Are you blind! Fleur and Cedric beat me fair and square!"

Next was Dumbledore. Harry crossed his fingers. Surely the good ol' Headmaster would score him objectively.

He put up a 10.

"Oh COME. ON!" the small teen cried. The cheering audience members closest to him paused and gave him odd looks, poking their neighbors and likely telling them about his strange reaction.

Ludo Bagman – 10. Well, no bloody shock there.

Finally, Karkaroff raised his wand. Harry waited with baited breath. This guy was as openly biased as they came. It was practically criminal that they put him on the judging panel at all. He was guaranteed to give Harry a bad score…

The Durmstrang Headmaster paused for a moment, then, with a resigned air, shot off his number.

An eight. A friggin' eight!

Harry cupped his hands against his mouth, and shouted with all his might, "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Now he had the judges and a large majority of the audience's attention. Good! Maybe they would help him sign the petition to re-tally his score that he was about to create when he got the chance!

"This game is rigged!" he continued, shaking his fist at the flabbergasted judges. "Anyone with eyes can see I was the worst out of all of them! Where's the justice!? This is an outrage! Cedric Diggory was robbed! I call a foul! BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

But all the activity, so soon after being wounded, was quickly catching up to him. His vision swam a bit and he teetered dangerously from side to side

"Harry!" Hermione hissed in alarm.

Ron just shook his head as if he had fulfilled his quota of nonsense for the day. 'You and me both buster brown,' Harry thought sullenly.

The red head wrapped his arm around his shoulders and started to steer him away. "C'mon mate, let's get you back to Madam Pomfrey before you pass out."

"Cedric Diggory for President!" Harry called behind him one last time before he was brought back into the tent.

Only to come face to face with a very angry Madam Pomfrey. "MR. POTTER! How many times have I told you not to run away when you're injured like this?"

"Twennnnnnnnnnty," Harry whined.

"Honestly, Harry! Sometimes you can be such a child," Hermione huffed exasperatedly.

"Mrrrrrrrrggggggh."

The matriarchal Mediwitch lead him back to his cot and tucked him in, tuting the entire way. She shooed his friends out soon after, then gave him the promised Sleeping Draught. "Drink up. It should start working in a few moments."

"Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii gh," he said, to which Pomfrey rolled her eyes at, long used to his antics. Harry gulped down the potion, making exaggerated faces of disgust and gagging.

"Get some rest now, Mr. Potter – and no escaping, you hear me?"

"Yes Mein Führer," he muttered crossly.

"What was that?"

"I love you!" He gave her a winning smile that she eyed sardonically. He knew when not to push.

The green eyed youth settled into his cot as his thoughts started to wander and his eyes became heavy.

Sooooooo, things didn't go quite as planned. At all. But Harry refused to let this little snafu discourage him. There were still two more tasks that he could fuck up in. He would learn from his mistakes today, because apparently people cared more about some pretty little frou-frou special effects instead of actual skill. Alright, alright. Fine. He would play their game. He was going to set world records of badness for the next task. He would do so bad that even that dick-rider (4) Ludo Bagman would give him a negative infinity score. They would see.

As he heard muffled voices shooting questions at Ron and Hermione outside his tent – Fred and George, Neville, Dean, Cedric…some people that sounded suspiciously like Delacour and Krum – He smiled and let out a happy sleepy sigh. If nothing else, at least he got his bestest pal back to talking to him, and if that wasn't worth being hurled into a rock via a dragon's tail then he didn't know what was.

End Chapter

~oOo~

1 Commutatus Borrire – directly translates to (according to Google Translate) change bubble.

2 Terra Talitrum – directly translates to (according to Google Translate) ground/earth flip

3 Yolo – You Only Live Once. A phrase typically shouted by teens and young adults before doing something tremendously stupid and irresponsible

4 dick-rider A male who is consistently kissing another man's ass in attempt to gain his acceptance (Urban Dictionary)

End Chapter Notes:

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeee! XD Soooo many reviews yaaaaaaaaaaaay! I soooo happy! Thank you all for your kind words. I will never be able to say it enough. How I love you all! I could sing it from the roof tops! :)

Many apologies for the late update, but as I said before work keeps me workin'.

RANDOMLY SELECTED SHOUT OUT TO REVIEWER: Katzztar, who couldn't wait to see what Harry would do to lose for the first task. I hope what happened in the chapter was something like you imagined! :)

And so, I bid you all adieu! Hope you enjoyed!

And remember…Like it? Hate it? Tell me about it!