Disclaimer: All characters, places, and anything familiar from the Harry Potter books and movies belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros.

A/N: Thanks to my wonderful beta KennethRose who also helped me write part of the chapter (fight scene was totally his idea). Also thanks to all the people who read, reviewed, followed and favorited the story. Hope everyone enjoys the long chapter!


Chapter 7

There wasn't a sound to be heard in the arena. The crowd was completely silent as Harry Potter made his way back to the champions' tent carrying a golden egg after his confrontation with one of the most dangerous dragons known to wizardkind.

The moment Madam Pomfrey laid eyes on him she tried to push him down in one of the beds available for the injured champions while muttering under her breath, "Making children face against dragons! Preposterous!" Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes in annoyance… even if he secretly delighted in taking the weight off his body and lying down on the soft linen.

He knew the matron meant well but mothering him when he didn't have single scratch on his body was taking things too far in Harry's exasperated opinion. He noticed Cedric Diggory lying down in one of the stretchers turned beds; half his face covered with a bright orange paste as well as his left arm and part of his torso. Some of his hair was black and charred from failing to dodge the dragon's fire.

Harry felt a small pang of guilt watching the obviously pain-ridden Hufflepuff but pushed it away without a second thought: this was a competition and the rest of the champions had voluntarily entered the tournament. He wasn't going to pass around information so the other champions could prepare as well — he was already at enough disadvantage compared to the rest of them. He was a bloody fourth year for Merlin's sake!

Madam Pomfrey was shocked after she finished checking him. She honestly couldn't remember the last time a Potter was in her care without an injury. So surprised was the matron that she spoke out loud without noticing, "Mr. Potter, how on earth did you manage to come out of the task unharmed?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders, deciding not to answer her obviously rhetorical question, slugged back the offered pepper-up potion, and then focussed instead on his memories of everything that happened the week before the tournament's first task — more specifically how he and his friends had finally managed to come up with a way to get past the dragon.


"Harry, are you even listening to me?" Daphne huffed, her irritated tone quite evident. He had been acting strange since the Hogsmeade weekend and she had no idea what had gotten into him lately. He had avoided being alone with her; a far cry from what she was used to considering that mere weeks ago he was the one looking for her and asking to speak in private.

Harry's eyes finally focused on her and he raised an eyebrow, though his body language was screaming that he wasn't really interested. She sighed. What had gotten into him? "Did you hear what I said? If you want to come out of the first task alive you'll have to do more than stare into space…"

She watched as Harry's green eyes hardened, making her finish the tirade barely above a whisper. This was something new too; his cold attitude, something that Daphne was more accustomed to giving rather than receiving. They had a little over a week left before the first task and they still hadn't found anything to help him face the dragon. They were all lacking sleep, having stayed in the classroom far past curfew consistently, and today they had gone through several books while Harry sat with a stoic expression on his face. Suffice to say that that made Daphne try to get a rise out of him… his reaction, however, took her aback.

He didn't say a word to her; instead he turned to talk to Neville. "Say Nev, dragons are a type of reptiles, right?"

Neville shrugged a clueless expression on his face; it was Millie who provided the answer. "Yes they are. Why do you want to know?"

"Remember the incident in the duelling club back in second year?" Neville and Millicent gave him puzzled looks while Daphne scoured her mind for any hint as to what the rather excited and mischievous-looking green-eyed Gryffindor was talking about. She remembered that Professor Snape had made Harry duel with Malfoy… it suddenly hit her when she chanced a look at Harry; the memory of cold, spine-tingling hisses coming out of his mouth slamming to the forefront of her mind.

If he could talk to snakes, maybe he could talk to dragons too!

Their eyes connected; blue clashing against green. His gaze was still a bit hostile but it was starting to melt slightly, and with it the ball of dread Daphne had been feeling in the pit of her stomach ever since Harry had been distancing himself from her. She silently vowed to find out why she was getting such treatment from him in the first place.

"You want to talk the dragon into handling you the egg?" she exclaimed excitedly, and at her explanation both Neville and Millicent's confused looks evaporated; morphing into ones of understanding which soon gave way to grins as they finally realized Harry's plan. If he could manage such a feat it would save them a lot of time and worry, and if the dragons cooperated... well it could very well be the upset of the tournament.

Harry shook his head after a moment, a frown marring his brow. "What if it doesn't work? I'd be burned to cinders… we have to find where they are keeping the dragons before the first task. I'm not risking my life on such a small chance."

"But Harry, how do you know which one you're going up against?" The three students turned their eyes to Neville, making him blush in embarrassment. Even though he was starting to gain confidence among them there were times he was a bit overwhelmed when the attention was focused solely on him. "What?" he said, shrinking in his chair. "I imagine there are four dragons, one for each champion. The question is, which one will be yours?"

Harry offered his friend a small smile. He was right of course. "I was thinking about talking to all four dragons. If I can actually communicate with them that is."

Millie beamed at Harry. "That's a brilliant idea; if it works maybe we won't have to keep looking for spells anymore!"

Her good mood was contagious, and soon the four students were talking about how the rest of the school and foreign delegates would react to Harry's stunt. Before they left the classroom for the night Daphne convinced Harry, after a whole lot of subtle bribery and emotional blackmail, to come along with her to the kitchens the next morning after breakfast. She was positive that Cotton knew where the dragons were being kept, and if he didn't know then some other house-elf was bound to know.


Harry got up early the next morning, and for the first time in days he felt well rested. After his conversation with Sirius in Hogsmeade he was left with more questions than answers. Sure Sirius had cleared some things up, like what the Blackthorns were like during the war and the relationship his parents had with the Weasleys, but he'd also opened a whole kettle of fish in regards his parents' relationship… and that kettle made Harry very uneasy. Every person that had met his parents before they were murdered had said that they were the perfect couple; very much in love and simply unfaultable… that is until his conversation with Sirius. His godfather hadn't come out and said it directly, but something had happened to make Sirius speak of Harry's mother that way. The sheer mystery of the whole debacle had rendered the teen completely unable to rest at night.

It also appeared that Daphne and Millie's parents hadn't told them exactly how active the underground society had been back in the day considering Neville's shocked reaction. He wanted to believe that was the reason for the conflicting versions he'd heard from them and his godfather… he hoped more than anything that they were telling him the whole truth this time, because if he ever found out they had been lying to him again, even if it was by omission, he was through. It was a bit harsh but he couldn't surround himself with people he couldn't trust completely, he didn't want to go through the pain of another betrayal.

He had to admit it had hurt when he found out they had kept things from him, and despite thinking that it would distract him from the tournament, to the point of getting himself injured or possibly killed, he'd thought that they would've learned from Ron and Hermione's mistakes. By that point Harry had been sick and tired of not being told the whole story; just little half-truths and deceptive answers that, thanks to the trust he'd given the people that fed him such tripe, he had accepted as truth and let the matter lie. But Daphne had hurt him the most. He still wasn't sure why; for all intents and purposes Neville's silence should have him all kinds of upset because he was his roommate, and had been since first year… and yet he couldn't muster the anger to stay mad at the quiet Gryffindor. On the contrary, Harry had actually gone out of his way to include Neville in on his secrets.

Shaking his head to clear those thoughts he promised himself that he'd figure out why he felt that way later. Right now he had to get ready for a long day. It was finally Friday and the first task was scheduled for the following Thursday, and that wasn't something to be taken lightly. Harry knew full well that those six days would fly by, and before he knew it he'd be standing in front of a terrifying dragon. He stretched in his bed and pulled the curtains open, bringing into view the other four boys still sleeping soundly. He gathered his clothes quietly and headed for the showers. He had started getting up a bit earlier to avoid running into Ron and Hermione in the common room.

He still wasn't sure what to do with his friends, if anything at all. He wondered what would happen if they ever came back begging for forgiveness. He doubted things could go back to the way they were before all this tournament business happened — their betrayal, Ron's blatant jealousy coupled with the things he'd said behind his back, was all but unforgivable in his eyes. Hermione's superiority complex that had reared its ugly head as of late was equally as off-putting, and the scathing insults she'd spat in his face, as well as those hideous badges, didn't help in the slightest.

Harry took off his pyjamas and got in the shower; taking a deep breath as the hot water cascaded down his back. Sleeping through the night had lifted his mood quite a bit, enough to look forward to his visit to the kitchens with Daphne, despite still feeling a bit hesitant around her.

He lathered his hair and stood under the hot water to wash the shampoo out. When he was sure all the soap was gone he turned off the tap and grabbed a towel to dry his hair and face. He wrapped the towel around his hips and stepped in front of one of the mirrors. It was covered with steam from the shower he had just taken, but a quick wipe of his hand allowed his blurry face to appear. He grabbed his glasses, putting them on, he made a mental note to ask one of his friends if there was a way to fix his eyes with a potion or spell. Surely if they could re-grow bones from scratch, such a menial problem would be a piece of cake for a wizard or witch to remedy. He noticed his face was still a bit flushed from the hot water but other than that he looked fine. The bags under his eyes were finally gone, much to his relief. Harry looked at his watch and sighed; the others would be starting to wake right about now. He dressed hurriedly and returned to his room. Sure enough he saw Seamus already sitting in his bed looking groggily around, but Harry paid him no mind and grabbed his schoolbag. He made sure his cloak and map were in it before leaving for the common room downstairs.

There were a few students already up and the majority still looked half asleep — something that Harry took advantage of by making his way through the room at a fast pace; too fast for their weary minds to even comprehend his passing. He was in a good mood, but not to the point to stay and socialize. Many of his housemates still thought him a cheat, after all. He remembered that his godfather told him he should expand his circle of friends, but how could he be sure they weren't just being his friends because he was the-boy-who-lived or the 'fourth Champion'?

Harry walked distractedly to the library. Last night before bed he'd come up with an idea concerning the dragons. There had to be a spell to imitate other spells without the damage they caused — it was magic after all.

When he arrived at the library he silently made his way through the stacks of books, and promptly discovered that he had no idea where to begin looking. When he noticed how much time he'd spent roaming without luck he decided to question Madam Pince. She gave him an appreciative look when he asked. It seemed no one ever approached her about books on spells or her opinion on anything.

"Well I've heard some charms are used for birthday celebrations and such. There are people who aren't overly fond of fireworks and those charms work fine without all the fuss."

Harry nodded happily. It sounded about right. "Where could I find a book with those kind of charms?" he asked giving her a half smile, trying to sound as polite as possible.

"Let me get it for you young man," she said returning the smile. Harry followed her to the charms section and watched patiently as she searched; finally pulling a book from one of the shelves. She handed it to him with a friendly smile. "This should have what you're looking for."

Harry was glad when the strict-looking woman didn't inquire what he needed the charms book for, and they walked together to the front desk where Harry signed the book out. He thanked her and promised to himself that next time he came to the library he would at least say hello to the librarian. It must be really boring being stuck in a place where you couldn't talk all day long.

He ran all the way to the Great Hall and let out a sigh of relief when he noticed that students were still eating. He spotted Neville sitting down near the staff's table and walked hurriedly to his friend. He grabbed a plate and sat down before piling it high with food.

"Morning," Neville greeted him. "I didn't see you in the common room and assumed you were already down here."

Harry leaned forward and said in a low tone of voice, "Stopped by the library first."

Neville raised a curious eyebrow but abstained from asking questions. If it involved the tournament as he imagined, now was not the time to speak of it. Hogwarts' rumour mill was legendary after all, and the Great Hall was hardly the most secure area to talk about such sensitive topics.

He watched as Harry practically devoured his breakfast, and when the green-eyed youth noticed his friend's surprised face he shrugged. "I still have to go to the kitchens with Daphne," he explained to Neville.

Both teens failed to notice Hermione eating her breakfast silently beside a still-sleepy Ron listening intently to their conversation a few places down the bench. Her eyes glittered with triumph.


Daphne was waiting impatiently for Harry by the corridor that led to the Hufflepuff common room. Several students eyed her warily as they walked by. He was late and she looked like a fool standing alone by a corridor that was normally only accessed by 'Puffs.

She'd seen Harry bolt into the hall from where she'd been sitting at the Slytherin table, almost completely missing breakfast, and had given him the courtesy of five minutes before standing up and leaving the hall to wait for him. How long could it take for him to show up? It shouldn't take him more than a minute to walk from the Gryffindor table to where she was standing now.

Daphne jumped when someone touched her shoulder and let out a very uncharacteristic girlish yelp of surprise. She pulled a black lock of hair behind her ear as she glared at the blushing but mischievously smiling boy standing beside her. "I really should invest in a bell for you!"

Harry laughed silently. He was quite pleased with himself. He had been planning on that little surprise ever since the black-haired Slytherin left the hall, and the look on Daphne's face when he'd touched her shoulder had simply been priceless.

He'd waited longer for another reason as well. They weren't hiding their friendship but Harry didn't want anyone following them to the kitchens since it was one of the best-kept secrets in Hogwarts with only the teachers and a handful of students knowing of its location. He'd made doubly sure checking that nobody was nosing around.

"It's good to know that my stealthy moves work. You never know when you'll need them." He smiled broadly at her when she huffed in annoyance.

"I'm glad you find me amusing."

Harry ignored her comment, instead grabbing her arm as he started walking to the kitchens. "Lets go, we don't have much time before classes start and I don't want to be late for History of Magic."

Daphne gave him a sceptical look. He didn't want to be late to that class? You could dance on the darn desk in the middle of those droning, perpetually monotone lectures and Professor Binns wouldn't bat an eyelid.

Once they reached their destination Harry made sure no one had followed them one last time before he tickled the pear. The portrait swung open and they walked through the doorway, closing it behind them. They were instantly surrounded by house-elves, and in Harry's case he had a small, floppy-eared elf all but humping his leg possessively.

He saw Daphne shoot an irritated but utterly astonished glance towards the now babbling elf; he shrugged his shoulders with a sheepish grin. "What am I supposed to do?"

Daphne ignored him with a roll of her eyes and instead sought out Cotton, upon finding him she motioned the small house-elf to follow her. They walked away from the mass of house-elves and started talking quietly; several seconds later Harry finally managed to free himself from Dobby. He really liked the elf, but the way he went about 'saving' him during second year left him a bit weary... as well as his rather… exuberant greetings. "I'll be back in a second Dobby, you stay right here, alright?"

Harry managed to hear the last bit of the conversation Daphne was having with Cotton as he sauntered over. "—you sure they're keeping them there?"

"Yes miss. Cotton heard the Headmaster say to Professor Moody were the dragons would stay until the task."

Before Daphne could thank Cotton they heard the portrait leading to the kitchens open again. 'Who would come here at this hour?' Harry thought, panicking slightly.

He saw a head full of untamed bushy hair and knew instantly who it was. He saw how Daphne tensed beside him, while he felt a sense of unease in the pit of his stomach. 'This won't end well.'

"What are you doing here?" Daphne spat between clenched teeth. Harry noticed Daphne had pulled out her wand and mentally scrambled for a way to diffuse the situation quickly, or he was in for a screaming match with hexes thrown in for good measure, at least if Daphne's defensive stance was anything to go by. He stood in front of her, blocking her partially from Hermione's view.

Harry saw all the small creatures gave his ex-best friend a very wide berth. He had heard from Neville that she was still going about trying to free the house-elves. Hermione scoffed and crossed her arms. "What are you doing here? You should be heading to class."

Harry tensed, his previous good mood vanishing instantly. Why was she always trying to question him? He had told her quite clearly last time that it wasn't any of her business anymore.

"Are you really asking me that? And how did you know we were down here?" he volleyed back.

Hermione turned red, Harry didn't know if it was in embarrassment or anger, nor did he really care. "I heard when you told Neville that you were coming to the kitchens with her," she said pointing her chin towards Daphne. He saw Daphne's wand shoot red sparks and grabbed one of her small hands, rubbing his thumb on the back of her palm without thinking in an attempt to calm her down.

"Oh, I didn't know you liked to listen in on private conversations," he mocked Hermione. "If you were so intent on eavesdropping then I must ask… why didn't you notice the rather glaring lack of an open invitation?"

Hermione's eyes flashed with several emotions, Harry recognized anger and envy among others. Was it finally dawning on her that he didn't actually need her anymore?

"Did you come here to make these poor creatures do something for you?" she replied scathingly, and this time it was Harry's wand that started to shoot small sparks. His eyes darkening with repressed fury.

"Did you even research anything on house-elves before you decided to go on this silly crusade of SPEW?"

Hermione scoffed and replied in a haughty tone. "No one deserves to be enslaved. This creatures deserve their freedom, and its S.P.E.W."

Many house-elves cringed and moved farther away from the bushy-haired girl. He noticed that she hadn't really answered his question. "Really? And do you even know what happens to them once you give them clothes?"

Hermione's face lost all colour. She shuffled nervously for a moment and finally straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. "Of course, why wouldn't I know what happens to them? They should be paid for their services, not forced to work for horrible wizards who have no morals."

Daphne giggled behind him, Hermione narrowed her eyes at the blue-eyed girl. "You think it's funny how the wizarding world treats this creatures?"

"I wouldn't find it funny if it were true!"

Harry started to panic. He knew the Greengrasses had several house-elves working for them and Hermione had indirectly called them a bunch of demoralized wizards.

"You base your assumptions on one case, Granger. How many families besides the Malfoys own house-elves? And you didn't answer Harry's question. Do you or do you not know what happens to them once you free them?"

Hermione had walked right into that one. She prided herself in knowing everything there was to know on several topics. Then why hadn't she done the same in this case? He knew the muggles abhorred slavery, and he was right there with the muggles in that opinion… but in this case Hermione was wrong.

"I… well, that is to say…" she stuttered, her face paling even further.

"They lose their magic, go crazy and die Granger, that's what happens to them once they're free!"

"That can't be true!" Hermione shouted. "What about Dobby, he's a free house-elf and he's fine—"

"Is he really free?" Harry interrupter her, "Did you ask him yourself?"

"Of course I did!" Hermione shrank back. Harry's body language was screaming he was about to explode. "He told me he gets paid for his services."

"And you believed everything he told you? A unbalanced house-elf that tried to 'save' me from coming to Hogwarts by almost getting me killed?" from the corner of his eye he saw Dobby's eyes fill with unshed tears.

"Dobby is sorry! Dobby only wanted to keep Mr. Harry Potter sir safe!" the tiny elf wailed.

"Look what you did!" Hermione tried to approach the sobbing elf only for him to shy away from her.

"It's alright Dobby, you thought you were trying to do the right thing," Harry said to Dobby gently. He saw the house-elf demeanour change completely. He went from a crying wreck to insanely happy in a blink of an eye. He did appreciate what Dobby tried to do but he wanted to keep himself as far away from the obviously crazy house-elf as possible.

"Dobby do you belong to someone even when you get paid?" Daphne spoke from her place beside Harry. Hermione was about to interrupt but one look at Harry made her shut her mouth instantly. He had to admit he too was a bit curious. It was evident Dobby was a few cards short of a deck but by now he should have been completely insane. At one time after Daphne had explained about the house-elves he thought about asking Dobby if he needed a new master, but discarded the idea just as quickly imagining the hyperactive house-elf taking care of him.

"Yes miss. Dobby has a master. He pays Dobby to work at Hogwarts!" he stated proudly.

Hermione's mouth opened in shock. "B-but that's not right, he said he was getting paid, he said nothing about having an owner!"

"You silly girl," Daphne scoffed, "You didn't ask the right questions. You only asked what you wanted answers to."

Harry smiled smugly at Hermione. Silly girl indeed. She went guns-a-blazing without gathering all the facts first. He admitted that he himself should have read up on the subject before taking Daphne's words as the truth, but everything she had said so far was right — not counting what she had withheld from him about the underground society. He made a mental note to check the book she had showed him on wizarding families to see what else it said about his own family. In fact he had a lot of research to do; he didn't want to take everything anyone told him at face value — even though books could lie too. He remembered something Sirius had said… To the victor go the spoils of war. He shuddered mentally; he wondered how far people were willing to go to hide the truth.

Once Hermione started ranting about how it was all a lie Daphne had made up to embarrass her in front of Harry he tuned her voice out. He glanced at Daphne who apparently had the same idea in mind. He felt someone pull the edge of his trousers lightly. He looked down and found Cotton shuffling from foot to foot nervously.

"Mr. Potter… you need to leave." his voice was barely heard above Hermione's loud voice, "Mr. Potter is going to be late to class!"

Harry looked at his watch and knew the house-elf was right. If they didn't leave now, even going through several shortcuts they would be late. He nudged Daphne pointing at his watch. She nodded and leaned so she was facing Cotton. "Thank you for all your help and as always if you hear anything important just send a note."

The house-elf bowed making Daphne blush. Harry tilted his head slightly to the side and raised a curious eyebrow. Daphne shrugged and mouthed 'later'.

"As fun as this is," Harry said with all the sarcasm he could muster, "We're late for class."

That stopped Hermione's tirade on the spot. She blushed and started muttering under her breath about how it was their entire fault she was late for class. Of course he and Daphne would probably arrive with barely enough time to spare but he hadn't showed Hermione all the passages in the castle that were on the map and he doubted she remembered the ones she did know about.

Daphne pulled Harry along making him notice that they were still holding hands. He blushed but didn't let go. He looked at Hermione who still hadn't moved. If they walked fast enough they could lose her in one of the corridors.

"Cheerio!" he smirked at his former friend as they walked past her. Daphne just shot her a 'stay the hell away' look and continued moving. They pushed the portrait open and walked out.

Once Harry was sure the portrait was closed he sprinted down the corridor pulling Daphne with him. When they rounded the first corner he stopped and pulled a tapestry aside. He gave Daphne no time to protest as he dragged her along with him to a pitch-black niche, covering her mouth with his free hand. The space was very small and forced them into a rather awkward position; Daphne's body pulled flush against his. Harry felt his face heat up but there was nothing he could do until he was sure Hermione had walked past the entrance of the hidden alcove. One of the shortcuts was a couple of corridors down but he wasn't sure they could've made it without Hermione spotting them so he took a chance and hid in the little dark alcove. He tensed when he heard footsteps approaching. They sounded hurried so it was clearly Hermione. Once he didn't hear noises anymore he let go of Daphne. He noticed that her breathing was a bit laboured and was about to apologize to her when she slapped him on the arm. "Why did you do that for?"

"Erm… I," he cleared his throat making the rather uncomfortable lump disappear, "I didn't want Hermione to follow us. I know a few passageways but they were too far, this was the closest niche I could remember without looking at the map."

Daphne drew the tapestry back and walked out of the confined space. Harry saw that her face was probably as red as his and she avoided meeting his eyes. He thought about calling her out on it but they were really going to be late if they didn't start moving.


During lunch Harry had gone to Great Hall, grabbed some food, and walked outside. He sat by the Great Lake on his favourite spot and ate in silence while searching for the charm he had in mind for the task. All of it would be for naught if his crazy plan fell through.

He looked through the index of Charms and Illusions: A wizard's guide for the perfect gathering, and located what sounded like a substitute charm for fireworks. He turned to the page it specified, reading through the instructions and found the spell easy enough to perform. Though he would need the dragon to make enough noise to drown out his voice for it to look realistic. All he had to do was say lux pigmentum followed by the colour he wanted, say blue. His wand would then shoot a jet of blue light just as the reductor curse did.

He practiced the charm several times, each time trying to lower his voice until it came out barely above a whisper and the charm still worked every time. When he was satisfied with the results he closed the book and stuffed it back in his schoolbag.

He felt quite proud of himself. He had no help whatsoever and had come up with the idea all on his own. Since it was a pretty easy charm with hardly any wand movement he worked it out from the very beginning.

He stood up and brushed his trousers, he made sure he hadn't left anything laying around and headed back to the castle. He still had double potions with the Slytherins and Snape to deal with.


That same evening after classes were over for the day the four students decided to skip dinner so they could make their way to the Forbidden Forest without any witnesses. Harry hoped that his plan to talk to the dragons worked. If it did it would make wining the task a lot easier without getting himself in danger.

Harry had spotted a few moving dots near the forest in the marauder's map during his History of Magic class. He guessed it was some of the wizards that were taking care of the dragons. He knew it would probably take them some time to find the exact location where they were keeping them but they still had some time to spare before curfew.

Harry noticed Neville shaking slightly beside him; the girls were walking a few steps ahead of them with their wands alight. "Are you alright Nev?"

"S-sure Harry… I just really don't like the Forbidden Forest."

Harry chuckled quietly. "It's fine Nev, I don't think many students like the forest."

Neville's cheeks tinged a slight pink. "Let's get this over with. The sooner we find them the faster we can get back to the common room."

"Let's just hope this plan works."

After about half an hour later they started to see faint lights coming from a clearing. When they reached the edge of the trees, Daphne and Millie whispered Nox and pocketed their wands. It wouldn't do them any good to get caught now.

Everyone froze when a loud roar came from the small clearing. Once Harry's sight adjusted he saw that the four dragons were being kept in huge cages with chains wrapped around their necks and extremities, tight straps were tied around their snouts to keep them from breathing fire. He didn't like seeing the beasts all bound up but maybe that way they wouldn't fry him to a crisp if they noticed him.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Harry jumped slightly when Daphne whispered beside him. He nodded his head and walked silently to one of the cages, making sure the dragon keepers weren't near any of the cages.

He'd thought about using his invisibility cloak but Daphne, Millicent and Neville were still in the dark about it, and until he was sure he trusted them completely the cloak was going to stay a secret.

The nearest cage contained a copper-colour dragon; it had several horns protruding form behind its face and big yellow eyes. He said a silent prayer and stood in front of its cage.

"Hello? Can you understand me?" Harry held his breath waiting for the dragon's reaction.


Standing in the champions' tent before the task Harry looked around to see the other three nervous teenagers' reactions. He saw pretty-boy Diggory lose the entire colour in his face and then turn slightly green when Mr. Bagman finally told them what the first task consisted of. The other two foreigners stood with stoic faces, clearly unsurprised at the revelation. It seemed Millie had been right when she said that one way or another the champions always managed to find out what they were supposed to face during past tournaments.

"Alright everyone, gather 'round!" Bagman's voice resounded in the small tent once all the judges were present.

"I have in this bag a small model of the dragon you are about to face, you will have to collect… a golden egg from said dragon," Ludo Bagman chirped happily as if he was talking about the weather. As fate would have it Harry was the last to pick from the purple silk bag.

Fleur pulled the Welsh Green with a number two around its neck from the purple sack, followed by Victor Krum, the famous Quidditch player, who chose the Chinese Fireball with the number three, and finally Cedric Diggory who got the Swedish Short-Snout with the number one around its neck… leaving Harry with the fiercest and most dangerous dragon of the four, the Hungarian Horntail. He smirked, thankful that he would be the last to go. He hoped the rest of the students appreciated the show he was about to perform for them.

Mr. Crouch stated that each player would have a limited time to face the dragon and collect the golden egg, and if they failed they wouldn't know what the second task would be; leaving them at a huge disadvantage. The judges wished the contestants good luck and left the tent. After a brief announcement that had all the students cheering, Cedric's name was called and shaking like a leaf, he dragged his feet all the way to his fate.

Harry heard the 'Oohs!' and 'Aahs!' coming from beyond the champions' tent, at some point he heard horrified screams followed by sparse applauses. One of the judges announced the next champion and this time the French veela left the tent. After the public noise died down the process was repeated a third time. Before Krum left the tent he gave Harry a slight nod.

Of the three other champions Krum had been the least hostile. Harry wondered why that was, but clearly now was not the time to ask. He returned the nod and smiled slightly.

Harry spent the rest of the remaining time pacing around the tent. He remembered how that morning, after eating some breakfast, Ron and Hermione had approached him. Oddly enough the only thing they had done was wish him good luck. He had looked at them as if they were crazy. After everything they had done now they decided to wish him luck?

He was pulled form his musings by the announcer calling his name. He heard several people booing and even less cheering than anybody before him. Despite the lack of applause however, there was some clapping and Harry wondered who those students were. Surely his three friends weren't alone out there.

Harry took a deep breath and walked out the tent, he had to admit that the sight in front of him was nothing short of impressive. The dragon was still chained by the neck, making it impossible to escape, but its legs and snout were now free. Harry looked around the arena and noticed that everyone was watching him with open curiosity waiting to see what he would do next.

He nodded imperceptibly to the dragon making people jump when the Hungarian Horntail answered with a roar of fury. Harry pointed his wand towards the dragon muttering lux pigmentum blue. Jets of blue light left his wand and smashed against the towering dragon. It was its queue to breath fire missing him by a slight hair, all planed of course. Harry crouched and dove into a roll before hiding behind a large rock.

He remembered how furious the dragons had been when he told them about the tournament. Mothering dragons were beyond aggressive when provoked, and that's what the champions had to do by steal an egg from them, even if it was a fake egg.

All four dragons had agreed to help Harry if any of them were chosen for him to face. He was extremely thankful after the Horntail had nodded its head that night. It was the first time he was grateful to have his parseltongue ability.

Harry peaked from behind the rock and shot a pure white jet of light at the dragon, making the Hungarian Horntail take a slight step back while it kept on roaring. Each colour had a meaning for the dragon to do something, either breath fire, move a step back or to the side while still making as much noise as possible while Harry worked his way closer to the nest. Finally when he was about halfway to his goal the young wizard pulled out his trump card; the pièce de résistance. He'd discovered a reference to the spell in the very same book he'd found the light-jet charm, only it was slightly more complex.

After digging around in some of the more obscure tomes in the Hogwarts Library, once again with the helpful assistance of Madam Pince, he'd finally managed to track down a copy of the book in question: 'Reality and illusion; blurring the boundaries' by a barely-known wizard, Gautier Astor Bellerose, in the late seventeenth century. He liked to think that what he was about to do was his grand statement to the world that he wasn't a push-over anymore; that he'd fight fire with fire… literally. Closing his eyes he blocked out the frenzied yells, cheers and booing. He blocked out every single thought but one; an image that he had been constructing every single night for the past week before he went to sleep.

Even the heat from the dragon's fire melting the rock he was hidden behind didn't faze Harry, and with a deliberate movement he stood on top of the rock behind him; his entire body out in the open. The crowd went dead silent for a moment, but got even louder with cheers and taunting laughs when the dragon took in a huge breath clearly getting ready to vaporise Harry with its unfathomably hot fire.

Before the dragon could follow through on its attack however, a loud crack echoed out in the arena making everybody take pause and look around for the source of the noise. Nobody noticed Harry finishing a long, complicated motion with his wand, which was held inconspicuously against his side, nor him finishing a long-winded Latin incantation. What they did notice, and what drove everybody into complete shock and silence, was Harry raising his arms and crying out with a guttural growl… seconds later ravines and cracks opened up in the arena ground… followed by the smell of brimstone that accompanied the furious fires that burst forth.

When Harry opened his eyes again he breathed a quiet sigh of relief, but didn't let his serious expression waver. Within mere seconds the arena had been transformed from a rocky obstacle course to something that resembled what should surely belong in the pits of hell itself.

Fires raged and licked the observer banisters, making those in the front seats scream and yell as they jumped backwards from the waves of broiling heat. The smell of the sulphur was enough to make people scream in terror, especially when coupled with the nightmare-inducing imagery they were beholding. Harry Potter stood proudly on top of the boulder surrounded by white-hot flames of perdition; his face devoid of anything but confidence and determination.

To everybody outside of the arena itself Harry walked through undeniably lethal flames without a single break in his step; a thin blue halo surrounding his entire body. To everybody outside the arena the dragon was roaring and breathing lancing pillars of flame at Harry… who simply raised his hand and stopped them with a small motion of his fingers. To everybody outside the arena Harry appeared to them as a man with total control of fire; a man who was in his element and besting the one creature on Earth considered to be undefeatable in its home ground.

Inside the arena it was a completely different story. Harry was walking towards the dragon who was slowly shuffling away to the opposite side of the arena. Harry was getting closer to the golden egg, and Harry was emitting a slight blue aura. The blue aura however, rather than being some incredible protection against the ethereal fires of hell and a dragon, was a manifestation of the energy required to project the image within his mind onto the outside world. As he neared the egg he could feel the incredible drain on his magic taking its toll and so hurried forth — his illusionary-self seeming to pick up the pace and leap gracefully from boulder to glowing-hot boulder with unearthly ease.

When he grabbed the egg he gave the nesting dragon a bow of respect and thanks, receiving an inclined head in return, along with a small smirk — something he thought he'd never see on a dragon — and ran back to the tent's entrance as fast as his slightly-shaking legs could take him. The moment he reached the entrance he stopped, turned around, and then made a slicing motion with his hand — initialising the last part of the spell. The draw on his magic within the next second was astronomical making him waver on his feet, his vision actually blacking out for a moment.

The cracks closed up, the fires of hell disappeared, and the smell of sulphur dispersed… and yet the boulders that had been exposed to the 'heat' of the white-hot fire still glowed and in some cases the boulders disappeared simply leaving puddles of molten rock glowing on the ground. That was the last part of the spell; ensuring that the aftermath appeared real in the wake of the illusion, and thus ensuring maximum credibility. Superheating an arena's worth of rocks and boulders was no small task, especially considering that only just recently had Harry been getting into shape and training his magical core.

With fuzzed vision and a body that felt like lead Harry left the audience behind him utterly and totally gobsmacked. At that moment, despite having done it all for showmanship, he honestly couldn't care less about what they thought. He just wanted to lie down and get a pepper-up potion.


Harry finally got rid of Madam Pomfrey after agreeing to take some draught of peace to 'calm' his nerves, and she returned to Cedric Diggory's side when the Hufflepuff started moaning and twitching in pain.

He knew the draught was taking effect when he started feeling relaxed and all the stress left his body. He sat on the edge of the makeshift bed and closed his eyes, waiting for Madam Pomfrey to give him the all-clear so he could finally leave.

Harry's eyes shot open when he heard Neville talking loudly outside the tent. One of the flaps was pulled and in came his three friends. They approached him with shit-eating and awed grins on their faces and Harry stood up to greet them.

Neville immediately patted his back, "That was… mate, I can't even describe just how bloody amazing that was!"

"Yeah, that was one hell of a show Potter," Millicent said, her tone filled with excitement and no small amount of awe and breathlessness. Harry thanked them and returned their smiles with one of his own. He finally turned his head to look at Daphne. She was standing a little behind Neville with a look that radiated extreme pride, amazement, and something else that made his face burn and a goofy smile spread across his lips. He didn't know if it was the potion the matron had force-fed him or what, but she looked quite beautiful at that moment. He felt his heart rate pick up and his palms sweat a little when she pushed Neville slightly out of the way and approached him, and his blush surged into full-force when she threw her arms around his neck.

"That… I've never seen anything so incredible in my life" she whispered near his ear making his spine tingle pleasantly. "You were… just amazing out there."

He felt himself blush even harder, if that was at all possible and was about to answer her when they heard someone clear their throat behind them. They jumped apart as if something had burned them, both heads snapping to where the interruption had come from. Their expressions turned icy when they saw just who had done the deed. Standing by the entrance of the tent was Hermione, looking smug, though with an obvious undertone of jealousy, with a red faced Ron beside her.

"What is going on in here?" Ron's voice was on the brink of becoming a scream, "What are you doing with those Slytherins?"

"Really Ron? You came all this way just to ask about that?" Harry teased his former friend. Now he knew the draught was affecting him somewhat because he couldn't even make himself angry towards Ron and Hermione.

Ron's face turned a darker shade of red and spluttered, "Since when do you associate with those slimy snakes? They're evil Harry, you surely know that, right?"

Harry watched as Neville and Millicent's faces flushed. He was completely tired of having the same type of conversations over and over again. Once upon a time he would've probably reacted the same way as Ron but they all had to grow up at some point and see the people behind the Hogwarts house stereotypes. It would do them no good to turn down a hand in friendship because they were basing their judgement of a potential new friend merely on that person's school-time house.

"It doesn't matter Ron, why are you really here?" His tired tone was evident to all the people in the tent.

Hermione decided to interrupt whatever reply Ron had planned. "We came here to congratulate you and also to…" she gulped nervously, the smugness disappearing suddenly, "We wanted to ask you to forgive us."

Harry looked from Ron's still slightly red face to Hermione's pleading one. "Why should I? What do you want me to forgive you for?"

Saying his former friends were shocked was an understatement. They had clearly not expected that answer from him. He mentally laughed. What did they think? One sorry and its all forgive and forget? Did they really think he was mentally deficient or something? Perhaps the old Harry Potter; the one that didn't study because he knew that Hermione liked to be best; the one that was so desperate for friendship who wore rags so that Ron wouldn't get jealous; the old Harry that they thought he still was… perhaps he would have forgiven them without a second thought… but he was no longer that Harry.

He shook his head slightly trying to clear it. "I probably don't even want to know, do I?" Harry asked Neville.

His friend shrugged, "It's really up to you mate."

Hermione huffed calling all the attention to her. "Now you need Neville's permission to speak to us? That's rich Harry, we are your friends not them," she said tilting her head towards Neville and the two Slytherins. "Especially not that pug-faced troll," she sneered at Millie, and Harry managed only in a nick of time to turn around and glare at all three of his friends — stopping them dead in their tracks; murderous expressions marred by shock as they saw his green eyes literally glowing with repressed magic and anger.

Taking a deep breath he turned around to face his two old friends and finally opened his eyes; both Hermione and Ron stiffening and both took an unconscious step back at the fear they felt shudder down their spines. "Alright, I'll bite," Harry spat from between clenched teeth, eliciting another step back from the pair under the terrifying gaze of his killing-curse coloured eyes. "What do you want to apologize for?"

"Erm… w-we, um… Ron and I, that is, should have been there for you. W-we should've helped you train for the tournament. It didn't look good that we abandoned you just because you wouldn't admit the truth… and, I mean, it's clear you cheated again because you can't do magic like you did today but—" Hermione cut herself off mid-sentence when small ripples started appearing in the air around Harry's body, and she felt her body stiffen in response, she was literally paralysed with shock and a decent amount of fear at the sheer power Harry was unconsciously emitting.

"I can't believe you!" he said with barely contained rage, "You dare come in here, try to apologize for stabbing me in the back, and expect me to forgive you? And more than that, you have the gall to tell me who my friends are? And then, if that wasn't enough Hermione, you dare call a very good friend of mine; a friend whose support led to my survival of this fucking task; a friend who believed that I didn't put my name into the Goblet; a friend… you dare insult her? And me by calling me a cheat all over again?!

"And Neville, he's helped me far more in this ordeal than both of you combined! In fact you've done the exact opposite! I know it was you Hermione, who helped create those badges." He smirked darkly when her face paled. "I bet you thought you were so smart; turning the school against me and making me even more of an outcast than I already was. And you, Ron, you wore one of those badges. You spread rumours behind my back; saying I was a cheat, a spoiled little rich boy… you even spread the rumour that the only reason I made it to the Quidditch team was because before our first flying lesson you taught me how to fucking fly!

"But the thing that takes the cake, really it does, is that you still think I did it! And more than that, you insult me again by insinuating that I couldn't have done what I did because I'm too weak; too stupid and to useless without you! I had to face a dragon, a nesting Hungarian Horntail! And steal one of her bloody eggs! Nesting dragon…steal egg… do you know how fucking dangerous that is?!" he finished at an almost screaming volume. It was clear to everybody that Harry's magic had well and truly burned all vestiges of the calming draught from his system. Harry wasn't a cusser at the worst of times… before this incident that is, and it spoke volumes about just how intense his anger was that he had sworn not once, not twice, but several times, and he'd hardly used the most tame of curse-words.

Ron's face was looking more and more like a tomato about to explode, and it didn't take long before Mt. Weasley erupted full-force; his face twisted into a snarl of anger and his words spat out as if they were the vilest things in the entire universe. "And those filthy Slytherins do? Hermione told me Professor Dumbledore said you cheated, why would he lie?"

"What am I, chopped liver?"

Neville's wand was pointing at Ron with its tip bright blue, and the fight was all but guaranteed to happen — however mere moments before outright war broke out between the two factions, much to Harry's relief, Madam Pomfrey came to the rescue. "I have sick students in here," she all but growled, "You will stop this nonsense this very instant or I'll assign detention to all of you!"

Everyone shrank back as the matron scolded them, but internally Harry was thanking his lucky stars that they'd only been told off. The fight that would have broken out otherwise would have been brutal… and very, very short and probably would have left both Ron and Hermione injured, which could've led to something far more serious than a mere detention. Ron turned to leave, his head down like an admonished puppy, while Hermione shot all of them a look filled with loathing. "This isn't over Harry, we will talk once you get rid of them."

'That girl has gone completely of her trolley' Harry thought. Even Ron's reaction had been somewhat mild compared to what he had in mind. Hermione on the other hand… well there had been several confrontations since they had broken off their friendship, and in all of them she had never asked for forgiveness or admitted she had been wrong. Only this time she had gone and done the one thing that Harry simply wouldn't stand for anymore; nobody insulted his friends. Granted, even Harry had gone out of his way to rip into Slytherins when Malfoy or someone else went all out on Hermione or Ron, but when had Daphne and Millie, let alone Neville, insulted them?

Well, Daphne had called Hermione that awful word, but then again Daphne had been provoked — once again because her family had been insulted. Harry was so confused. If only Ron and Hermione could admit that they had been wrong it would've made things so much easier. He probably wouldn't have forgiven them on the spot, but maybe with time they may have regained some semblance of friendship.

As it was however, Harry had the feeling that something fundamental had changed between him and his old friends. Hermione had insulted Millie in one of the worst ways possible. Harry knew from his short friendship with the larger Slytherin girl that she was intensely conscious of her attractiveness, or rather lack of, and such insults like the one Hermione had thrown would probably leave quite a mark. Harry just couldn't see why he'd want to forgive them, let alone befriend them again, when their true colours were so utterly deplorable.

And then, as if he didn't have enough on his plate already, there was the Dumbledore issue. Ron and Hermione were so sure the Headmaster was the one telling the truth, but that brought up the question of why Dumbledore would go out of his way to turn his friends against him in the first place — going so far as to tell a blatant lie.

"Harry, are you alright?" Daphne's soft voice pulled him back to reality and he nodded his head wearily. "Yeah, just a bit tired is all."

Neville patted his back once more before retreating to one of the seats around Harry's bed as the fourth champion himself lay down. "What are you going to do about those two?"

Harry looked at the ceiling of the tent unseeingly, a furrow slowly becoming more and more pronounced on his brow. 'What am I going to do?' Even just thinking about the whirlwind of emotions tumbling about inside him was giving him a headache. "I don't know Nev," he finally muttered, "I really don't know."