Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits.

ΔOl

Chapter Twenty: The First Task I

"Potter, the champions have to head to the grounds now… you have to get ready for the first task," Professor McGonagall's voice seemed strained in Harry's ears as she stood rigidly next to the Gryffindor table.

"Okay," Harry nodded, dropping his fork onto his untouched plate with a clatter as he stood from his seat.

A comforting had touched his elbow. Glancing down he found Hermione smiling worriedly up at him, "Good luck, Harry. You'll be fine!"

"Yeah," Harry sputtered out hoarsely as he trailed behind the Transfiguration professor out of the Hall, his tongue feeling like it had swelled over three times its size in his mouth and his left pinkie finger had appeared to have developed a nervous twitch. He didn't dare look in Ron's direction.

McGonagall didn't seem like herself either, her steps were overly precise as she bustled Harry down the stone stairs of the entrance into the chilled November air, only to stop him at the base with a hand on his shoulder.

"Now, don't panic," she said rehearsed, "Just keep a level head and everything will be fine… Everything is under control… We have wizards monitoring the situation the whole time if things get out of hand… Nothing to be worried about... Just do your best and nobody will think any less of you... Are you alright?"

"Yes," Harry heard himself lie, "Yes, I'm fine."

McGonagall watched him for a moment before turning on her heel, her spine still unnaturally straight as she led him around the edge of the Forbidden Forest until he could no longer see the lake or the castle. As they headed towards a familiar clump of trees on the edge of the forest, Harry found that a large tent had been erected, hiding the dragon enclosure from sight.

"You have to go in there and meet with the other champions," McGonagall said unevenly, coming to a halt just outside the tent flap, "And wait for your turn, Potter… Mr. Bagman is already in there to tell you… about the particulars. Good luck."

With that, McGonagall gave him one last worried glance before heading back in the direction of the castle. Harry felt his tongue swell back up, threatening to choke him as he pushed his way into the tent.

Fleur Delacour was seated on a low stool off to the side, looking far less composed than her usual self. Her skin was clammy and tinged grey, her usually shiny hair flat and lifeless. Krum was hiding in a corner of the tent, an even deeper frown creasing his face as he moodily ignored everyone. Cedric had taken to pacing the length of the tent, muttering to himself under his breath while Danny leant against one of the supporting pillars nearby, his expression distant and pained as he fiddled with a small diamond ring. When Harry entered, Cedric gave him a small nervous smile which Harry struggled to return.

"Harry, my boy! Good-oh, you're here!" Bagman cried happily, waving him further inside, "Make yourself at home! Don't be shy! Come around everyone!"

Bagman was wearing his old Wasp robes again, looking quite out of place in the circle of ashen-faced champions with his almost manic cheeriness.

"Well, now that you're all here, it's time to reveal the big surprise!" said Bagman, the usually friendly smile was sickening to Harry under the circumstances, "Now. Once the crowd has all entered the stadium, I'm going to offer you this bag," he held out a small purple silk sack and shook it merrily at them, "From which you will select your, er, specified model to face off against!" Bagman's face clouded in confusion momentarily, "What else was I supposed to tell you lot? Ah, yes! Your goal for this task is to collect the golden egg!"

Bagman looked around the group excitedly, as if expecting to see them rushing to be chosen first. Cedric was nodding as if he understood the ministry representative before turning to continue his pacing, his complexion turning slightly green as his pace sped up. Fleur and Krum hadn't reacted, simply looking as Harry felt. Danny had sat down in Fleur's vacated seat to hold his head in his hands, shaking it softly.

Soon after Bagman's announcement, Harry heard the thundering of feet as they passed by the tent, students joking and laughing easily in excitement. Harry felt a slight resentment against them as the students' careless chatter made him feel even more alienated and sick.

Bagman tugged open the neck of the purple bag, which was now smoking lightly, "Ladies first," he said in an odd form of chivalry.

Fleur stuck a hesitant, shaking hand into the sack, and drew out a perfect, tiny model of a dragon, a Welsh Green with the number 'two' around its neck. The Welsh Green snorted in the palm of her hand, flapping its wing irately. Fleur's face quickly transformed from meek to one filled with determination, Krum's too. It was obvious that both Madame Maxime and Karkaroff had told them about the upcoming task.

"Wait, we're going against dragons?"

Harry and the others turned to look at the shocked Danny, who was staring wide-eyed at Fleur's model. Harry cringed. Harry couldn't remember seeing the Casper the night Hagrid showed him the dragons. Obviously neither he nor his replacement Headmaster had known.

Bagman's face stretched wider, seemingly ignorant to Danny's fear-filled expression, "Yes! It'll be a one on one against an almighty magical beast, with only a wand to defend yourself with. Isn't it fascinating?"

"Not really, no," Danny admitted.

Bagman ignored the Casper champion's response to instead shove the sack out to Krum and Cedric – Krum respectively drawing the scarlet Chinese Fireball with the number 'three', and Cedric pulling out the greyish-blue Swedish Short-Snout with the number 'one'.

Then it was Harry's turn, the dark depths of the pouch hiding whatever dragon was wait him. Closing his eyes, Harry shoved his hand into the bag, grasping at the first model he laid his hand on and yanked it out. Peeking an eye open, he nervously unfolded his hand.

A tiny moving replica of the Hungarian Horntail sat in his palm, the spiked tail swishing madly as those haunting yellow eyes glared up at him, a 'four' wrapped around its black scaled neck.

Bagman had quickly moved onto Danny, saying, "Lucky last, my boy."

Danny let out a rattling, high-pitched laugh as he tersely pulled out the model. A sandy-coloured dragon sat in the older student's hand, its sharply spiked back and short tail made it resemble a reptilian hedgehog with wings, a number 'five' tied around its neck. The replica snapped at Danny's fingers.

"Well, there you are!" said Bagman, tucking the silk sack into his Quidditch robes, "You each have your own dragons! You can see they each have a number tied around there neck – this is the order that you will each be going out in, get it? Cedric, you'll be first. Just head out to the arena when the whistle is blown, alright? I'll have to leave soon to join the judges. Harry, can I just have a quick word with you outside?"

Casting one last glance around the tent, Harry reluctantly followed the sportsman outside.

ΔOl

Yes, Danny, Dragons. You're screwed.

People have been hassling me as to when we would actually get to the Tournament. It's called suspense and, since I apparently managed to peeve a lot of people off with the pace, it worked. So HA! You fell for it!

Also a lot of people are complaining about the length; this is a snapshot story, all of the chapters are less than 2000 words – think of it as a drabble series. I update twice a week anyway so I don't see what all the fuss is about...

Props to the people that doubted this story but decided to stick and found they liked it too! That's a pretty sweet thing to hear.

Enjoy, review and I'll see you Wednesday.