The sound of a thousand excited chattering voices reached my ears, even from the considerable distance that still separated me from the First Task's arena. I could feel the cold November air as it warms in my lungs with each deep breath, the way the grass gave into my weight with a crunch was as noticeable as my own legs moving, even the warmth radiating from Hermione's body as she walked beside me was obvious.

Everything was more alive, more intense. It's a shame you only feel this way when you are close to not feeling anything anymore. I shuddered.

A few minutes before I had been eating in the Great Hall, as McGonagall had informed me it was mandatory for the day of the task, when the champions were summoned to the tent next to the arena to be 'given further instructions'. I stubbornly refused to go before finished eating, so I probably was one of the last ones, either champion or public, to get there. Hermione waited to walk with me, she really is a great friend.

Further ahead, at the tent's entrance, I could see, although barely, Cedric's brown hair as he was egged on the inside by a gaggle of his admirers.

"Remember, the first thing you need to do is cast the cooling charms and the protect from fire spell, the sticking charm on the glasses, you cannot affor-"

"Mione, calm down. You are more nervous than I am." Okay maybe a little bit of a lie, but she was starting to hyperventilate.

After a bit of gesticulating she flung herself at me and hugged me for all she was worth. I returned her hug with a bit more tenderness and patted her back.

"Be careful Harry, please." She sniffed

"I'll try, I promise." By now I noticed that she was hugging me with both arms. "Hermione... Where is my broom?"

"*Sniff* Neville has it. He's in the stands already, saving me a seat." She let go off me and rubbed her eyes.

"Don't wish me luck, eh? You know how my luck is."

"Break a leg then," she smiled, "but only one."

"I'll try."

I didn't say anything else. It wasn't necessary, not between us.

After a last reassuring smile, I went inside.


The first thing I noticed inside the champions' tent was the silence. None of the rumble from outside could be heard inside. Krum was standing near the centre of the tent with his brow furrowed, as usual. Only, nerves made him look more constipated than brooding. Cedric was to the side of the fairly Spartan tent, walking and muttering to himself. He was going over spells in his mind, most likely.

The tent was littered with ministry officials, some Aurors and that Baggins bloke, or was it Bagger? No matter, I had just spotted Fleur sitting as far away from everyone else as the constraints of the tent permitted her.

As much as she would like to make the world believe she is calm and in charge, she couldn't fool me. For one she was sitting in a high chair identical to the one in L' ermitage, complete with a red and gold blanket.

"As social as ever I see," I said as I approached and sat on the floor next to her.

"Are you saying I 'ave a dirty ass, Monsieur Pot?"

"What?" I said with a blush, Fleur was not one to make that kind of comment often.

"That did not translate well," a faint dusting of red showed on her face ruining her queen-like façade, "I meant you are as social as I am."

Of course, Monsieur 'Pot'.

"We say the pot calling the kettle black, but of course, we're not decadent and barbaric as the French"

I always count it as a victory when she has to hold back a laugh.

"You learn fast," she made a gesture of dismissal, "for an English man."

"Thank you, your grace." I inclined my head, which served the added purpose of hiding my smirk.

" 'ush, plébéien." We both chuckled at the ridiculousness and the levity of the moment, something we both dearly needed.

A flash of white light then engulfed my vision, I rolled to a crouch and drew my wand. I could feel Fleur move next to me and the shimmer of a shield form in front of me. My vision came back and in front of us was... a camera? I blinked the spots from my eyes, blonde hair, green tacky dress, oh Gods damn it. The weird reporter from the other day.

"Oh my, what a pretty, pretty picture. What a story must it have." Even this woman's voice was creepy, as if she would pounce on us. "You simply need to tell me. You wouldn't be one to keep... Secrets, eh Miss Delacour?"

"Rita, sorry but we need the champions, we're about to give the instructions. The interview will have to wait, hope you don't mind."

We were so focused on this 'Rita' and she on us that we didn't notice Baggins approaching. Or calling out apparently.

"Of course not Ludo, dear. Maybe the story will get even better with a bit of... Maturation. It's fine really..." She said with a forced smile that said it was anything but, and walked out with more drama than was necessary.

"Well then; Miss Delacour, Mr Potter, come with me and you'll get your instructions.


A few minutes later I stood with an angry little dragon in my hand, wearing a small collar with a number four puffing red-black fire from time to time and trying to look menacing. It was cute really.

So, gather the golden egg. They managed to make a dangerous situation even worse.

For all the nerves I had up until now, I was feeling pretty good at the moment. Focused.

After bouncing Baggman told us about the task Krum and Cedric returned to their musings and Fleur, whose dragon was wearing a number one, threw a mournful look at her chair and stood straight, facing the exit. I noticed her hands were shaking slightly.

"Try not to win with too much margin, okay? I'd prefer not to be embarrassed at the first event."

She smiled in a way that I could not entirely decipher. Grateful, maybe.

"Oh, I don't know. I am quite looking forward to free chocolates at le village.

"Then go earn them." I managed to say before the start cannon fired, signalling the beginning of the event; and sharpening into focus, Fleur got out the tent.

The wait was excruciating, whatever magic kept the tent silent didn't change with the start of the task. Some fifteen minutes passed in an eternity of time before a second boom summoned Cedric to the exit of the tent, leaving just Krum and me waiting. I chose to sit in Fleur's chair since she had forgotten to dispel it, and frankly, it probably brought me the same comfort in its familiarity as it did her.

Sometime later it was Krum's turn, neither Cedric nor Fleur had come back to the tent. It probably was a good sign that neither came back, they probably were sent elsewhere.

The cannon went boom again, like the gavel of a judge. I let out a breath, nothing for it now.

I stepped outside to the thunderous sound of an excited crowd. After the silence of the tent, it felt like an explosion.

As soon as I stepped out I discretely cast a sticking charm on my glasses, Hermione had remarked in its importance enough for me to forget it. And as my eyes grew accustomed to the light I was glad that I didn't forget to do it.

The enclosure looked like a giant had decided to carve a toy coliseum from the very floor; it was circular and rough, the dirt on the floor looked like a herd of bulls had stampeded around while pulling a plough.

Parts of it looked like they had crystallised into a shiny black rock, and the gouges on the floor were as deep as the length of my leg. Huge boulders, the lesser of which was taller and broader than me, peppered the arena; and in the centre of all this lay the dragon.

If it weren't for the fact that it was so damn massive it would have been hard to distinguish it from the black boulders and the molten floor. Its scales were an absolute black that didn't even reflect the, admittedly poor, sunlight.

Steam rose from its body and the cold air distorted around it, bending to is heat. There was no doubt why dragons were so feared, it's power could be felt. Deep in my gut, in my bones, I could feel the thrum of eldritch power, like the feeling when I first held a wand and felt the rush of magic but a hundred times stronger.

Curled as it was, it wasn't easy to tell much detail from its form; Its head was the only thing I could see clearly for it was facing me, it was scaleless but looked as strong as if it was made from steel, it was about as long as I was tall and then it extended smoothly to four straight horns on each side, creating a natural crown.

The only bit of colour it had was in its eyes. Two smouldering red pits that glowed with enough intensity that it was noticeable from a distance and, as its tail swung behind it, a metallic bronze glint at the tip of it. Horntail indeed.

"Accio," I murmured as I raised my wand to the air. The dragon, apparently, took offence to this, and almost as quick as I could perceive it unfurled with a step forward and spat a column of red-black fire with the sound of a jet and a car crash.

I threw myself behind the closest boulder all the while cursing everything and thanking quidditch training. Even protected by the stone the heat was unbearable, the fire had enough power that it pushed against the stone as if it was a current of water and tongues of flame and molten stone swirled and splattered around it. My sweat evaporated as soon as it appeared.

I hurriedly cast the flame retardant charms and the freezing charms I had found on myself and then cast them again. I still felt as if I was dying inside a stew pot, even if I was now steaming from the difference in temperature. Then over the awful screeching of the dragon I heard the swish of am an incoming broom, and with a skill honed from a thousand hours I jumped in its path and flew away and out of reach from the column of fire.

The rush of fresh, cold air was wonderful and invigorating after the infernal heat of that hellish creature. From the vantage point I had gained I could see the whole arena, but no clutch of eggs, and judging by the reluctance of the dragon to fly in pursuit they were likely below it (her?)

Now in the air I stowed away my wand and flew as fast as I could towards the dragon before swerving past, baiting it. My speed was too great for it to easily swat me away and it was making it grow visibly irritated, but it didn't look as if it would move from atop the eggs. And so I kept swirling around it, weaving between its head and it's tail, flying close enough to reach and touch it and then away, tempting it to follow.

It was a mistake to believe the dragon to be a stupid, brutal beast. Only the sudden smell of sulfur and a sound like two rocks hitting each other warned me to the explosion of fire that rose in my path. I reversed directions so suddenly that I felt like my stomach kept going forward without me, and as I turned I was faced with a clawed, gigantic paw that I barely manage to avoid.

I could not keep this up for too long, the dragon was too fast, had too many appendages and its fire could change direction way too swiftly. It was like flying against ten of Dobby's killer bludgers solely focused on me.

I dove to the floor, spinning out of the way of a cone of fire and saw the eggs. The dragon had risen enough that I could fly between the floor and it's belly and get the sodding egg. I was focused solely on the gold glint of it, so much that I failed to see the bronze spike heading my way.

My wand was in my hand in an instant, the words for a solid shield on my lips. The tail of a dragon hit the shield with a mighty gong and I heard my left arm snap, the air was driven from my gut as I flew backwards, away from my broken, pierced shield that remained floating where I cast it as inertia took my broom into a roaring inferno.

The landing felt as bad as the take-off and left me gasping for air and with black spots flying in my vision. The good news? I don't think I broke anything else and my sticking charm held, so I was not blind. The mixed news? I had landed fucking far away from the dragon, which probably saved my life but now I had to get close again. The bad news? My arm hurt like no one's business. At least it wasn't bent.

In a moment of brilliance, I thought to wrap my sleeve tight (fucking ouch) and transfigure it to wood. Improvised splint, check.

I would need to fly a lot faster if I wan- my broom. My broom kept going forwards after I fell. Into the fire. Sirius broom, gone. Not even ashes left.

A flare of rage hotter than any fire the dragon could produce hit me, and with a scream, I started to throw blasting curses; my wand moving like a conductor's baton, a symphony of destruction.

The orange balls of energy exploded against the dragon without any obvious effect apart from some surprise from it. The crowd was roaring as much as the dragon now, and I was getting frustrated.

With a hiss the blasting curses gave way to bone withering curses; and in between flashes of purple, scales started to fall.

The roar of pain from the dragon drowned every other sound and with a mighty pull, the chains holding it snapped as it lunged at me. A quick ascendio saved my hide as the beast landed where I had been and swiftly turned to face me, I pushed everything I could into a banisher and one of the huge boulders flew, striking it in the head and staggering it. A second boulder hit it in the side and made it fall prostrate in the middle of spewing a bout of flames.

With the sudden light of Dragonfire came a glint of gold, and riding on instinct as I was my eyes couldn't help but stray towards it. The eggs! The clutch was unprotected and the fake egg was there for the taking.

I looked back towards the dragon and saw that it was almost on its feet again, I would not have another chance to end this. With a small prayer to the Goddess of wisdom, I intoned the words to the most taxing spell I had ever tried to cast.

"Kyton Carceri," I murmured with the utmost focus I could manage. The magic took hold and I felt like Atlas, a violet swirl of energy took form over the dragon, and tendrils of it shot to the ground burrowing deep. In seconds the dragon was pinned to the ground under an ever tensing net of violet chains.

I took the fact that I was not dead or unconscious as a victory, though I did not know for how long that would remain true. Every time it tried to escape I could feel each push and each pull on every fibre of my body. Every time it breathed fire on the ethereal chains I felt as if my arms would melt off.

I started towards the eggs without laying my gaze off the struggling mother, my wand arm shaking with the effort of keeping up such spell, step after small step, and when I finally got there I hugged the golden prize to myself as best I could with my splinted arm.

A dozen or so wizards entered the arena at that moment and casting something simultaneously at the dragon several times, managed to knock it unconscious.

I let go of the spell and fell on my arse as if the rope on a tug of war had snapped. Huge black spots danced on my eyes and my legs didn't feel solid at all, but with effort, I managed to get up and then Ron was holding me upright and saying something I could not hear over the sound of my own blood in my ears. No, not Ron. Ron is a gangly bastard, maybe his brother? The dragon handler? I could not focus enough to remember his name.

He helped me towards the tent where I was before the task, I went stumbling the whole way.

When we got there I realized it was a different tent, this one looked like the hospital wing and smelled the part, too. I was getting my bearings back, the sound of blood no longer rushing through my ears and I could stand a bit better without leaning so much on... Charley? Yes, Charley was his name.

"Hey thanks, mate," I said, trying to stand on my own and stumbling a bit.

"You better sit. eh, Harry? That was some show you put out there. I don't know how you are still standing." He guided me to a bed

"Barely, that's how," I muttered as everything started spinning when I sat. "I think I'm going to barf."

"Then get on with it, if you throw up the potions they won't work." If there was ever a voice I could distinguish in any state of consciousness it was Madame Pomfrey's.

"I should have known the task was not over yet," I laid back against the bed head despite myself as the world kept spinning out of control.

"Opinionated as ever Mr Potter, drink this and stop complaining." She said with the suppressed amusement I had learned to pick up from her.

I knew from my ample experience that complaining would serve no purpose, so I gulped down the two phials I was handed. The world ceases it's crazy twirling almost immediately and I felt a bit better. At least I didn't feel like I was going to fall asleep on the spot. At one point Charlie walked out without me noticing it.

"What did you do to your arm Mr Potter?" She said, her wand tracing familiar patterns over it.

"I broke it, I think. I transfigured my robe into wood to splint it." It truly looked strange, the way the fabric turned where I tightened and then flowed into a cast made of wood that looked suspiciously similar to my wand's.

Pomfrey let out an exasperated breath I was all too familiar with and vanished the cast before, with a mere gesture from her wand and a soft snap, mending my arm.

"It was a clean break, the best you could hope for considering what struck you."

"It struck my shield, not me. I still felt the strike thought, only on my arm weirdly enough," I flexed my fingers as I examined said arm.

"You should read your spell books more carefully Mr Potter, not all shields disperse the energy in the same way."

"So I'm probably going to get a lecture from Hermione then."

"A well deserved one." She pursed her lips

"I thought I was going to get a lecture from you too.

"Honestly, it would be pointless. I have accepted the fact that you'll always be under my care." She said as she suppressed a smile.

"How sweet, Poppy." People often thought strange that I was so familiar with Madame Pomfrey, but after all the time I had spent under her care, it shouldn't be surprising.

"Appart from your, now fixed, arm you are only suffering a case of exhaustion and some bruising on the back. Nothing a good night's sleep and a warm meal can't heal. The invigorating draught you drank will help but don't overextend yourself, it is only borrowed energy after the effects fade you'll crash again."

"So... Get to my bed and sleep?"

"Basically, yes. You need to get to the arena to get your scores and then go out through the other tent. After that go and get some rest, if I see you in the hospital wing again in the next month I'll make you regret it, Mister." She wagged her finger at me, one hand on her hip.

"You got it, Poppy. Thanks for everything." I got out the bed, only slightly dizzy now. My fixed arm was a bit sore and my back was starting to sting but overall I was not feeling too down. Pomfrey grumbled something about dragons and some part of Dumbledore's Anatomy as I got out of the tent.


The arena was mercifully free of fire breathing creatures when I got out, but I couldn't help flinching to the sudden sound of the crowd. The medical tent was silenced too apparently.

I walked towards where the judges had their table set up. Bagman raised his wand and a 10 exploded from it, confetti and all. What an excitable fella. Mr Crouch gave me a 5, claiming the use of questionable and banned spells and earning a loud booing from the crowd. Maxime gave me an 8 looking like it pained her to do so. Karkarof gave me a 7 also looking reluctant.

Dumbledore looked at me in between worry and pride and gave me a 10 'For mastering spells well beyond what most wizards could wield, in a situation where it would be difficult to keep a calm mind.'

I think he forgot I wasn't competing for Hogwarts.

A total of 40 points, that should be enough to get fir-

"With forty points, Harry Potter, representative of house Potter claims second place!"

Well, sod. Wonder who got first place.

It was in this distracted state that I entered the champions' tent again and almost found myself on the floor from a resounding slap. Immediately after I was in a crushing hug, my mouth full of golden hair.

"You told me you 'ad a plan, you.. you inbécile!"

"I didn't say it was a good plan." I returned the hug hesitantly.

"You owe me all the chocolate in the hog's villagé." That made me chuckle, and she hit me in the back of the head without breaking the hug.

"Ow. You really need to stop hitting me before I get a concussion. You are way too strong for someone so thin."

"This thin and delicate girl is in first place." She said pulling away enough to look me in the eyes. Or more likely, to allow me a glance at her smug expression.

"How many points?"

"Forty-two." That smug smile again.

"Damn. I almost got you."

"Almost, Monsieur, is not enough."

"You are so proud," I said as we started walking towards the exit.

She bumped my shoulder, "You say it like you don't like that."

I looked at her as she walked beside me, looking happier and more relaxed than I had seen her, hair shiny as it bounced even in the low light of the tent. I felt my expression soften and could only think one thing: I was in trouble. Big trouble.

"It is more endearing than it should," I said, now knowing exactly why that was.


AUTHORS NOTE.

Hello readers, first I apologize for the delay. work has been crazy lately and then I got hooked reading 'The Sum of Their Parts.' Awesome story, by the way, thought i felt a bit cheated with the jump from the last chapter to the epilogue.

Now responding to some reviews:

George1892: Harry didn't forget about Cedric, I just skipped the scene. I implied it though, read the last part of the last chapter more carefully.

Stealacandy: thanks for your corrections mate, I'll change them in the chapters when i have a chance.

Anabeth Ginebra Swan: No me esperaba una Review en Español, eh? Una sorpresa agradable.