A Whole New World Chapter 9


Clad in black Mary-Janes and a blue summer dress, Octavia sprinted through the dungeon corridors with Pansy, the girls' heels clacking against the stone ground loudly. They were not exactly late to the beginning of the first challenge in the tournament, but had arranged to meet with the boys fifteen minutes ago. They just hoped that Blaise and Theodore had saved them both good seats on the stands. Not for the purpose of having a front-row seat to the dangerous excitement of the challenges, but to ensure that they could watch their friends with concern and displays of support as they competed.

Octavia had come to the decision over the course of the last two months that the tournament was utterly preposterous. Not only were Draco and Harry contracted by the Goblet of Fire to participate in the tournament despite their age, they had to enter the first task without any indication as to what it would entail. For that reason, Draco and Harry had been considerably stressed and irritable as of late. Of course, Draco never took out his troubles on Octavia, but he had not been his usual self. It wasn't of fear that his behaviour had changed, but stress and reluctance. Or, at least, that is what she assumed it to be.

The two girls sprinted onto the main corridor that led to the atrium before skidding to a halt and stumbling. Professor Snape stood in the shadows of an alcove, talking in whispers to Draco and Harry, but they fell silent at the sound of the girls' approach. The three of them turned their heads to the side to identify the intruders of their private conversation, both Harry and Draco looking pale. Well, Draco looked paler than usual, which was definitely saying something.

Instead of his usual marble-like pale and flawless complexion, Draco's skin had a sweaty sheen to it, as well as an observable green tinge. Harry seemed as though he was moments from upchucking or passing out, and there were black rings around his weary eyes. Snape, however, looked as cool as a sea cucumber, void of any emotion, other than the glint of anticipation in his black eyes.

"Miss Granger, Miss Parkinson," Snape greeted in a cold drawl. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

Pansy and Octavia glanced between the three of them, O's brows knitted together as she sensed the tense atmosphere. They quickly came to their senses and nodded before they continued to walk through the corridor. Harry kept Pansy's gaze as she neared, Draco locking eyes with Octavia. Both girls gave small tight smiles in gestures of reassurance, but their expressions appeared to be more like grimaces than anything.

"Good luck," the girls whispered in perfect unison as they passed.

Harry and Draco nodded once in response, but neither seemed to be reassured or comforted in the slightest. They still looked as though they had just been informed that everyone they knew had died or something equally as tragic. Although Octavia thought she noticed – with a blush, mind you – that Draco's silver eyes swiftly raked over her appearance, a small smile playing on his pink lips. But the girls had passed by them before she could be sure.

Once Pansy and Octavia reached the atrium of the castle, they resumed their sprinting and sped out onto the grounds toward the arena. The stands that enclosed the arena were huge and plenty, assumedly constructed magically earlier that morning. As they reached the arena they noticed that there was a specially delegated stand for faculty members, parents and judges, draped in all colours and crests of the participating schools. It looked much comfier than that of the students' stands.

Climbing up the stairs of the stands decorated in green and silver, Octavia and Pansy quickly located Theo and Blaise in the front row. Thankfully, they had saved both girls a seat on either side of them.

"Took you long enough," Theo said as the girls approached and seated themselves.

"Octavia couldn't decide on an outfit," Pansy complained, sitting beside Theo.

"And that is what you chose?" Blaise asked, quirking his brow as he eyed the attire of the girl beside him.

"Shut it," Octavia scowled, straightening out her baby blue dress.

It wasn't the style of attire she normally wore, and she only owned the girly dress as her mother had insisted she take something 'appropriate' to Hogwarts that year. She had worn it that day on the off-chance that she would meet Draco's parents who were both seated on the faculty stand ahead – at least, she assumed the two attractive and snobbish pale blonds to be his parents.

As Octavia was aware that Draco's parents harboured prejudices toward her kind, she had decided on being as sweet and lovely as possible should they be introduced. It was unlikely that they would like her, but a part of her craved their approval. For what reason, she did not know. All she knew was that she was compelled to smooth out her appearance, including her wild curls that now fell in a sleek cascading heap down her back and decorated with a pink ribbon.

The stands surrounding the empty pitch below gradually filled to capacity over the space of thirty minutes or so. Although, it did seem like a dreadful eternity to the anxious Octavia. They had absolutely no idea what the champions would be facing in the area, but given the severity of Dumbledore's warnings at the start of the school year, she didn't think that it would be Cornish Pixies. Especially if the team of strange men setting up a nest of massive eggs in the centre of the pitch were anything to go by.

The impossibly loud chatter of the crowds of onlookers dimmed as Dumbledore stood from his seat. The Headmaster was between Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, the rest of the first row of seats occupied by Ministry officials. It was safe to assume that the first row was reserved for – and occupied by – the judges of the Tournament.

"Attention!" Dumbledore called, the tip of his wand pressed against his windpipe. "The first task of the Triwizard Tournament will begin at the sound of the cannon. I ask you all to remain seated throughout the duration of each champion's turn, lest you lose a limb or two. One by one, the champions will enter the pitch and attempt to retrieve the golden egg" – most onlookers turned their gazes to the neat cluster of white eggs, noticing that there was in fact a shiny golden one right in the centre – "before their time is up. Each champion will be allotted no more than forty-five minutes to complete this task, and will be judged in three categories; dexterity, creativity and injuries received and caused. At the close of each performance the judges will raise a card to show the score that they are granting the champion, which will be totalled by our own Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Mr Barty Crouch."

A man with a thick and bushy moustache stood from his chair at the end of the front row, bowed slightly at the scattered applause before reseating himself.

"These scores will be given at the end of the first and second tasks of the Tournament, and will determine who will receive a head start in the third and final task." Dumbledore advised loudly.

The Headmaster seated himself elegantly, but no one paid him any further notice. For the attention of the observers were suddenly drawn to a massive gate by the champions' tent that creaked as it opened. The same team of men who had set up the eggs reappeared through the gate, all walking backwards carefully, their wands raised and expressions of great concentration gracing their faces.

A ripple of gasps coursed through the crowds on the stands as a massive sleeping dragon levitated through the gate after the men. A dragon! A scaly, green, huge, monstrous dragon, vapours of smoke seeping out of its impossibly large nostrils as it snorted mid-sleep. The group of men – presumably dragon tamers – lowered the dragon to lay beside the cluster of eggs before they left the pitch and closed the iron gate behind them. But not before they all waved their wands and lifted the sleeping charm from the frightful beast.

"First to compete is Mr Krum of Durmstrang Academy!" Dumbledore announced from his seat.

But half of his announcement was cut off by the premature bang of the cannon, deafening all within vicinity. After a few moments, Viktor Krum emerged from the champion's tent, head held high and wand gripped firmly in his hand. A loud roar of applause and cheers came from the Durmstrangs on another stand, shouting and yelling words of support. If Viktor heard them, he sure didn't show it.

Clad in combat gear, the burly Quidditch player aimed his wand at the dragon, the two of them entirely still as they assessed one another. Suddenly, the dragon stood, thrashed its massive tail threateningly and roared to the heavens.

"Oh my god," Octavia whispered, grabbing Blaise's hand tightly as she watched with wide terrified eyes. "Dragons? Are they fucking serious?"

"They'll be fine," Blaise said through the roar of the dragon and cheers of the crowd. "Don't worry, Tavs."

Their hands remained clasped firmly, Octavia almost breaking his fingers as they watched Krum battle the dragon. And by battle, she meant that he cast the Conjunctivitis Charm on the beast, blinding it with a layer of soggy crust over its eyes.

Shrieks, applauds, gasps and hollers resounded through the morning air as the dragon stumbled around, unable to see. Its tail thrashed around before it stumbled onto the real eggs, breaking the vast majority of the precious things.

"He'll lose points for that!" Theo shouted over the noise of the crowd.

Blaise and Octavia nodded in agreement, but continued to watch with enthrallment as Krum successfully retrieved his egg.

It all went pretty similarly for Fleur Delacour too; she entered, was attacked but narrowly missed being charred to ash, before she cast a powerful sleeping charm on her own dragon, plunging it into a deep slumber. Although, the Beauxbatons champion got too close to the snoring dragon when taking the golden egg. The dragon snorted in its sleep, a surge of fire escaping its nostrils and setting her tight battle attire aflame. Most Hogwarts girls laughed at her expense, though she quickly doused the fire with a jet of water from her wand. That made the girls laugh even louder – Octavia included – for Fleur then resembled a drenched rat.

Octavia's grip on Blaise's hand tightened impossibly as the dragon on the pitch was replaced and the bang of cannon sounded out for the third time.

"Tavs, I need that hand," Blaise winced, trying to pry her slender fingers from his hand. "Seriously, that hurts."

"Shh!" Octavia hissed, clutching his hand even tighter than before.

"Hogwarts champion; Harry Potter!" Dumbledore announced a second before Harry emerged from the beige tent by the gates.

Everyone fell silent, the Hogwarts students encompassed in the tensest and most anxious silence yet. The atmosphere was so thick that Octavia could almost feel the pressure of the air against her lungs, the blonde girl finding it difficult to breathe.

Harry was clad in similar combat gear to Krum, though sported the Slytherin house colours. His boots connected softly with the rocks surrounding the snarling dragon, his movements slow and careful as he raised his wand to the sky.

"Accio Firebolt!"

Nothing happened. The dragon kept its protective stance by its eggs, hissing and snarling repeatedly. The mass of onlookers were silent and anxious, and Harry remained perfectly still, his attentive gaze fixed on the beast ahead of him.

Suddenly, the whizzing sound of the Firebolt racing toward Harry was heard, but only for a moment before it was drowned out by the roar of the dreadful dragon. Harry's broomstick reached him just in time, the Slytherin mounting it and taking off speedily. The spot he had just stood on was now black with soot and flickers of flames dancing around the ground. But Harry was soaring up high in the sky, winding and weaving, ascending and dropping, twisting and turning, evading the emitted bursts of fire from the dragon just barely.

The crowd erupted into terrified shouts and shrieks and gasps, watching as Harry narrowly missed constant jets of fire. Harry flied up so high that his form had become hazy and miniscule to the onlookers and dragon. He could barely be seen hovering above, presumably inspecting the pitch below, whirling through potential tactics. Abruptly, Harry nose-dived on his broomstick, racing at an impossible speed toward the ground as the dragon roared and fired jets of fire at him. Luckily, Harry dodged and weaved his way around the exploding bursts of fire, but flames slithered up his right arm.

"He's been hurt!" Pansy shrieked, jumping to her feet in a panic. "His arm! His arm!"

Rather quickly, most observers had gotten to their feet, watching the most dangerous and entertaining performance yet. Pansy was correct; Harry's sweater had been burned to nothing on the bicep of his right arm, revealing scorched flesh. But he didn't stop or falter. He kept flying around the dragon in jagged circles, as though his flesh hadn't been bubbled and boiled by fire.

"Go on, Harry!" Theo roared, waving a Slytherin flag vigorously.

The flag was the same that most Hogwarts students waved; cartoon drawings of Draco and Harry scowling forebodingly with the Hogwarts banner above them. Octavia supposed that the other Hogwarts students would see Harry and Draco as foreboding and mean boys, but she knew them. They weren't like that at all, so she almost found the merchandise to be rather comical. Almost.

In that moment, there was no humour within her. Only fear for her friend as well as confusion. For he continued to fly in circles around the dragon, the beast turning rapidly on the spot to follow him with its fire and gaze.

And then it all became clear.

"YES!" Pansy screamed in perfect unison with Theo.

The crowd erupted into applause and cheers, but no one cheered harder than the those on the Slytherin stand. For Harry had circled the dragon until it became tangled in its chains and constricted. The dragon thrashed around on its back, unable to move more than an inch … or metre – Octavia wasn't very good at calculating distance, you see. Harry grinned widely as he swooped down and snatched the golden egg. He soared up and held the egg above his head as everyone screamed their cheers.

Pansy jumped up and down on the spot, cheering like her life depended on it, wiping away her shed tears of relief. Blaise and Octavia stood tall and proud, praising their friend joyously as Theo repeatedly shouted – "That's my mate!"

After a few moments, however, Octavia's joy diminished into nothing but total fear and misery. For now, it was Draco's turn. Harry returned to the champions' tent, and the atmosphere was vibrant and excited, but Octavia didn't feel that way at all. She felt sick to her stomach. For another dragon was brought into the pitch, replacing the tangled up one. A new golden egg was placed with the others, and the canon deafened everyone once more.

Swallowing back the bile that crept up her throat, Octavia already began to shed tears. Her terrified hazel eyes sparkled with the tears that overwhelmed her, adrenaline pumping through her veins and fear tearing at her pounding heart.

"Octavia," Blaise whispered, shocking her as he rarely used her full name. "He'll be fine. You know him; he's as crafty and skilled as they come."

Octavia knitted her brows together, nodding slightly as tears fell down her cheeks. Blaise sighed and held out his reddened hand.

"You need it more than I do," Blaise smirked, offering her his assaulted hand.

Octavia gave a watery smile, taking his hand again and turning her attention to the pitch. Draco emerged from the champions tent, his silver eyes not even glancing at the dragon. He searched the stands before resting his stare on Octavia. She grinned and cried as she waved.

She didn't know if Draco saw her gesture of support, for he suddenly whipped out his wand and slipped behind a rock to hide from the dragon. Luckily for him, for the dragon roared viciously, sending blasts of fire right at the spot he had been standing in seconds ago. Octavia gasped, her hands cupping her agape mouth as she watched intently. Blaise's hand dropped from her grasp at the movement, so he slipped his arm around her waist instead, gripping her side tightly in an effort to comfort her.

Draco remained behind the rock for a moment before he peaked over the side and flicked his wand to a boulder closer to the dragon. The boulder shivered and trembled, rolled and jittered, before it transformed into a massive snake, bigger than the largest python.

"What the hell is that?" Octavia shrieked over the gasps of terror that ripped through the stands. "Oh my God, it's huge!"

"A basilisk!" Theo shouted with an expression of absolute horror.

"That's some transfiguration skills," Blaise said in awe.

The basilisk hissed venomously, slithering upwards into a predatory stance, its yellow eyes fixed on the dragon. The two beasts hissed and snarled at one another, Draco going forgotten behind the rock he crouched by.

"I thought … basilisks – Aren't they meant to kill anything with just their eyes?" Pansy frowned, shouting over the noise of the crowds.

"It's not a real basilisk, is it?" Blaise countered. "It's a transfigured imitation."

"What happens if the dragon gets it?" Theo asked.

"It'll turn back into a rock, I presume." Blaise said quietly, his tone laced with fear.

For if the basilisk returned to the form of a rock, the dragon would return its attention to the other threat by its eggs; Draco.

The two beasts reared and snarled, the crowd all holding their breaths anxiously as the air went still. A fierce roar tore through the dragon, fire billowing out of it as it initiated its attack on the feral basilisk. The scaly snake soared out of the way just in time, snapping at the air in front of the dragon, the beasts battling fiercely.

Draco slipped out from behind the rock, expertly jumping from boulder to boulder with complete stealth. The creatures didn't notice him as he snuck closer to the golden egg step by step, winding and weaving his way through the rocks silently. As he neared the cluster of eggs, however, the dragon exhaled billowing balls of fire, setting the snake aflame instantly.

The cries of the basilisk ripped through the air, but they were almost drowned out by the uproar of the crowd.

"DRACO, WATCH OUT!" Octavia screamed, her panicked voice lost in the shouts from all stands.

The dragon whipped around, just as Draco had landed perfectly on the boulder closest to the eggs. Draco froze as the dragon snarled, foolish enough in thinking that he had more time to retrieve the egg.

Suddenly, the dragon reared back, threw its head up high before releasing a huge jet of fire right at Draco. He dived out of the way, landing harshly on another rock, but wasn't quick enough.

"NO!" Octavia cried as Draco's form was submerged in roaring fire, the crowd screaming in total terror. "DRACO!"

Octavia was so distracted by her fear for Draco's life that she didn't notice a trickle of blood drip from her nostril. She became quite light headed, but pushed through long enough to watch the fire leave Draco's body and soar up into the air before it dispersed entirely. Blood now poured out of her nose, but nobody noticed. For Draco stood on the boulder, completely unscathed despite being submerged in fire seconds ago.

The dragon released another jet of fire, but this one didn't even make it to Draco. The flames parted before reaching him, as though colliding with an invisible barrier.

"How the hell is he doing that?" Theo shouted, utterly baffled, whilst in palpable awe.

Draco seemed to be in as much shock as the people on the stands, constant streams of fire coming from the dragon, but never reaching him. The flames either parted around him, soared up into the air or dispersed entirely.

Stumbling on her feet, Octavia gripped onto the bannister as her vision blurred. She could only just make out Draco sprinting toward the egg, the flames exploding around him, but not touching him.

There was a loud eruption of applause; Draco had the egg, dragon tamers came, Blaise was shouting something. But all of it was mere echoes and blurry scenes.

And then Octavia saw only darkness right before she crumbled to the ground, blood leaking from her eyes, nose, mouth and ears.