In the last chapter: The night after Harry learns of what awaits them in the first task, Harry pulls Cedric aside and shares in what he found. Harry also gives Cedric some of the baby-dragon-scent-potion to help him. Then Moody/Barty comes along and half-heartedly tries to give Harry advice about the first task. The four champions prepare.
November 24th, the morning of the first task, Harry awoke nearly an hour before dawn and could not find it within his restless body to try and return to sleep. Getting up before anyone else, Harry dragged himself into the bathroom to chase away the early morning chill and lethargy by standing under the hot spray of the shower. Staring up at the tiled ceiling, Harry released a loud sigh as his shoulders drooped a little lower than normal and nerves began to wreak havoc on his empty stomach at the prospect of what would come later in the day.
When he finally dredged up the will to begin cleaning himself, he made sure to wash with a scentless soap. He'd already made sure the night before to call up a Hogwarts house elf to wash both his simple black and dark blue uniform for the task, as well as his school uniform for the day, in scentless detergent separate from the rest of the clothes. Harry was unsure how strong his own scent might be against the fragrance of the potion, but he didn't want to take any risks when he got into the arena.
When Harry returned to his room and dressed for the half-day of classes, he couldn't help but silently bemoan the still-dark sky outside of his window. The sun should have already begun to rise, but the heavy darkness outside indicated a morose day of thick cloud cover and possible downpours. Of course.
However, as the morning progressed and true to his predictions, the deep rolling rumble of thunder echoed through the castle ominously, the buzzing excitement of the student body could not be subdued. Feeling spiteful in the face of his peer's glee, Harry quietly hoped that it would rain harder and that the stands wouldn't have any charms up for protection during the task. It would serve them right to have to suffer too. Harry thought a bit vindictively.
Though, in truth he wasn't feeling as anxious as he'd thought he'd be. In fact, he felt a little detached all morning. It was not necessarily a pleasant feeling, but it was a familiar one. It was second nature to him . . . before, when he didn't have anyone to try to drag him out of his own head.
That morning, however, he was grateful for it. Anything was better than fear at that point.
Though, it seemed that while he was ready to put his focus into his studies for the day, nobody else could get their mind off the first task. When lunch time finally came, Harry was the first one out of the class so that he could get changed and still have time to eat a decent lunch. Though to others it probably appeared as though he was just as excited as them, he really just wanted to get away from the constant whispers and pointed glances at him and the other champions that they passed in the halls.
Thankfully, when Harry entered the dorm it was empty and he was able to dress in peace. Once dressed, Harry locked the door with a quick spell and got out a few items from his trunk:
The first being a small leather pouch, no bigger than a galleon, that he had shrunken down and magically expanded within to fit all of the materials he needed for the ritual. It wasn't everything, as there were a few more things he needed to prepare—but it would be sufficient if he needed to perform the ritual last minute. That being said, Harry doubted he would be seeing Voldemort so soon. The pouch was heavily warded, undetectable, invisible once worn, and was tied with a long leather cord so that he could wear it around his neck and under his clothes during the tournament. The locket was also inside the pouch, which meant that for the first time in months, Harry could not feel the magical presence of the locket—which was uncomfortable, if he were being entirely honest.
The second item he withdrew was the remainder of the potion he'd stolen from the dragon trainers that would mask his natural scent and simulate the pheromones of an infant dragon. Harry transfigured the bottle it was in into a spray bottle and quickly made work of spraying down his clothes and then coating his skin, hair, and concentrating the rest on his pulse points where the scent would be the strongest.
Harry was immediately relieved to note that the potion didn't smell overpowering or foul—as it would draw far more attention than it was worth. Instead, it was quite light and smelt faintly of some sort of wildflowers with something a bit deeper and more earthy underneath with the subtle undercut of smoke throughout. If anyone got close enough to smell him, it could easily be mistaken for the scent of the outdoors and Harry being in the general vicinity of a fireplace recently.
Harry just hopped that the potion wouldn't fade too much before the task itself. Just to be safe, Harry cast a few stasis spells on his clothes that made them a little stiff, but would hold the scent until he removed the charms.
Once finished, Harry made his way down to the Great Hall and resolutely ignored the way that half of the hall's eyes turned towards him when he entered. When he sat down, a quick glance around the room verified that the others were also wearing their uniforms, so he knew all the looks had nothing to do with his clothes.
The hall was louder than ever before, yet, in contrast his friends were almost silent as they ate, offering gentle smiles, the brush of a hand on his shoulder or forearm, or small offerings of support and encouragement. It spoke volumes about how well they knew Harry, knew what he needed at that time. He was an unwilling participant in a deadly competition that could very well take his life. He needed their understanding and support. What he didn't need, was hundreds of students cheering him on and trying to get him 'excited' to face such dangers.
Anthony sat on his left, Draco on his right, and the girls across from them. Both Anthony and Draco sat close enough that their arms brushed as they ate and were it anyone else, he would probably feel cramped and uncomfortable with so much physical contact, but from his close friends, it only relaxed something tight inside of his chest and allowed him to get some food down without it making him feel sick.
Then, just a few minutes before lunch officially ended, four people descended from the head table and made their way through the students to escort them out of the hall. Harry supposed that had Cedric been the only Hogwarts student in the tournament, Dumbledore would have escorted him out, as the two-foreign headmaster and headmistress did with their own champions, but apparently, they didn't want to show any sort of favoritism between him and Cedric, because instead they were escorted by their heads of house.
Since Flitwick's legs were much shorter than the others' he reached Harry last and so he was the last to leave the Great Hall. His head of house offered a few solemn words of encouragement as they stepped out of castle and into the rain-trodden landscape. Harry was quick to cast an umbrella charm that sprouted out of the tip of his wand and protected him—and more importantly, the potion—from the rain.
He could just see the back of Ms. Delacour disappearing between the towering dark trees of the forbidden forest.
Looking up at the sky through the invisible cover of his umbrella charm, Harry took in the flashes of lightning that flickered within the clouds and the low tremble of thunder that he felt through the soles of his boots more than he heard with his ears. 'Seems rather fitting, doesn't it?' Harry mused silently as they moved over the soft, wet ground, ever closer to the cover of the trees.
'And what might you be referring to, little one?' His companion inquired, the rumbling rasp of Death's voice carried on the building breeze. Far off in the distance over the tree tops, the air was ignited as the sky met the earth in a bolt of light, electricity, and power with a resounding crack. He wondered if one of those ancient trees had met its match and had been cleaved down its center.
'The storm. If I didn't know any better, I'd think that those trainers released their dragons into the sky. Roaring and beating their wings with all their might as they spewed white hellfire between the clouds of smoke and vapor. By Merlin, it must be some kind of blasted 'divine foreshadowing!'' Harry refrained from rolling his eyes, but only just.
The constant percussion of the thunder was accompanied by Death's chilling laughter, which tugged at the corners of Harry's mouth and made him feel a little more himself as they entered the tree line.
They didn't walk very far before they came to the start of an enormous clearing that had not been there when Harry last entered the forest. Directly before them was a large tent that seemed to reside in the shadow of an enormous arena that no doubt would hold the first task. Harry tried to ignore the hulking structure as he entered the tent where the three other champions were currently waiting. Like the others, Harry was left there by his escort.
The uncomfortable, nervous silence was broken when Cedric quickly made his way over—looking incredibly relieved to see a familiar face—and greeted Harry warmly. However, it wasn't long until the fidgeting was back and the older male became once more ridged with tension. Harry noticed and inwardly sighed. With a gentle hand at his elbow, Harry maneuvered them over to a more deserted side of the tent to speak more privately. He silently thanked the universe for such a thing as magical expansion, allowing them quite some distance from the others.
"It's going to be alright, Cedric. Remember what I told you? We will most likely be required to dodge the dragons for this task, also there'll be trainers waiting on the sidelines to intervene if it becomes too dangerous. Just don't think about the time or the scoring; take your time, play it safe, use those shield charms as often as necessary, and keep moving." Harry's voice belied a confidence that was not entirely authentic. Don't get him wrong, he had confidence that Cedric and the other champions would hold their own and make it through, he just didn't have as much faith in the spectators' willingness to step in. No, the wizarding world was not known for its ridged safety standards, nor its compassion for that matter.
None the less, Cedric seemed to believe something in Harry's voice and appeared to settle a little more. Harry smiled encouragingly and lightly squeezed his arm. The contact was brief, costing Harry a little to step outside of his comfort zone, but the uncharacteristic gesture in and of itself seemed to hold significance to the Hufflepuff. Cedric must have seen this as well and gave the younger champion a grateful smile and nod before walking back over to the sitting area where the others were congregating on the other side of the tent.
Harry remained there for a while, still feeling quite separate from the other champions, knowing he was not meant to be there.
It was then that Harry noticed what sounded like hundreds of feet making their way through the forest at a sedate pace and eventually parting around the tent to get to the arena. Must be the crowds filing in. With his focus momentarily captured by the sudden noise outside the tent, he then realized that the soft slapping of heavy raindrops hitting the canvas had faded out into only the occasional patter of a droplet most likely coming from the sopping treetops above. Harry sighed as he let go of a worry didn't even realize he had until then—that it would be pouring when he faced the dragon, therefore rendering the potion he'd covered himself with useless. Despite his earlier vindictiveness against his peers, Harry wasn't brazen enough to truly wish away any advantage he might have.
The snippets of conversation were still seeping muffled through the cloth walls from the outside when the tent flaps were thrown aside and in came the five judges with expressions of forced jovialness to mask any doubts or nerves they may have for their champions' first task. The only one that seemed genuinely excited was Ludo Bagman, who beamed at them all as he clutched a velvet bag in his hand that almost appeared to be squirming.
"Good day, champions!" Dumbledore exclaimed, gathering the attention of the tent's occupants. "Now, you've waited, you've wondered, and finally the first task is upon us. Ludo?" Dumbledore stepped back to make room for the overly-eager man to sweep in and usher the champions closer to make a circle around him.
"Miss Delacour, if you please." Ludo held the wriggling, slightly smoking bag before the French student and gave her an encouraging nod when she hesitated, looking at Bagman as if he were mental.
With a slight flinch at whatever her fingers found, Fleur carefully extracted her hand along with the agitated little creature that was the shrunken image of a Common Welsh Green if Harry wasn't mistaken. A very lucky draw if he were honest, since that particular breed tended to be rather skittish of people and was less prone to provocation.
Ludo swiftly moved on to Viktor, who retrieved the Chinese Fireball—a scarlet beast that was slightly bigger than the Welsh Green and notably more aggressive in nature. Viktor's constant look of consternation only deepened the slightest bit when the miniature dragon blew little mushroom shaped plumes of flame at his fingertips and singed the leather of his gloves.
Cedric was next to stick his hand in the bag and Harry silently admitted to feeling relieved when he ended up with the Swedish Short-Snout. It was a little smaller than the Fireball, though its distinctive blue fire burned far hotter and it was quite an agile beast. Still, Harry was relieved because that breed had a particularly good sense of smell for dragons and Cedric would have a better chance then.
But Harry's relief was short lived when Ludo turned to him and he realized that by being the last to pick, he knew exactly what dragon he would be facing. Double the size of Viktor's Fireball at a terrifying 50ft in length, bronze spikes on both its head and tail for defense, it could also spit its flames in jets as long as its body, arguably one of the most aggressive of its kind, and incredibly fast and agile. Harry had his work cut out for him.
Reluctantly, Harry reached in the bag for the small dragon and was rewarded with a few sharp punctures in his palm from both spikes and long teeth. Harry ignored the few grimaces sent his way when the little beast came into view. Ludo drew back everyone's attention as he spoke up once again.
"There you have it. These represent four, very real, dragons. Each of which has been given a golden egg to protect. Your objective is simple! Collect the egg. This, you must do, for each egg contains a clue, without which you cannot hope to proceed to the next task. Any questions?" Bagman's question was barely heard as the four teens absorbed the information and tried to quickly formulate a plan using what they'd practiced and studied the past few weeks. They weren't given much time at all.
"Mr. Diggory, I believe you are up first!" Crouch chimed in for the first time just before an explosion went off just outside the tent, it had sounded more like a thunderclap than the cannon Dumbledore had immediately assured the startled occupants of it being.
Cedric turned stiff and pale, but there was a determined set to his shoulders and a hard light behind his eyes that was commendable as he was led towards the opening at the back of the tent that Harry had not noticed before that he assumed led straight to the entrance of the arena.
Only a beat after Cedric left the tent, the rumbling of hundreds of voices chanting his name reached them. It soon dissolved into screams of excitement and fear, accompanied by the enraged bellows of the dragon. Harry had already been informed that he would be going last, so he didn't have to fret as much about his own performance and was able to listen closely to the commentator as well as the reactions from the audience to try to piece together exactly what was going on.
It all seemed to be going fine up until the very end when Cedric made a daring move for the golden egg without fully distracting or incapacitating the dragon first and—if the commentator was to be believed—came out a bit worse for wear with burns that were immediately being treated. He succeeded though, even if he had lost a chunk of points because of the injury, and soon Fleur was striding confidently through the tent flaps following the second cannon firing. The temporary 'infirmary' must have been in a separate tent because the Hufflepuff didn't return to their current tent.
Fleur's task went a bit faster, but apparently, she was also unable to escape the flames from her dragon and ended up with Cedric in the infirmary.
Viktor was up and waiting by the opening before the scores were even finished being given.
"Oi, Krum." Harry called out. Viktor's head snapped up from where he'd been straightening out his gloves, a hard-straight eyebrow quirked up. "Good luck." Harry hadn't the chance to wish the same for the others, as they had distractedly marched out before he could even open his mouth. Krum, on the other hand, seemed far more level-headed than the others and wouldn't be knocked off-balance by the slightest disruption.
Viktor didn't respond for a moment and Harry wondered if he would be snubbed by the Bulgarian who had continuously acted rather unfriendly towards him since the beginning of this mess. A few beats later, though, he received a curt nod and Viktor left the fourteen-year-old alone in the tent. Almost as soon as Viktor left, Harry was hit with the deafening roar of the crowds, screaming louder for their famous quidditch player than for either of the other champions that went before him.
Harry soon cast his focus inward, however, and began mentally preparing himself to face the most fearsome of the four dragons. He would wait until the very last moment to cancel the stasis spell he'd placed on himself to protect the scent from fading away. Though he wasn't sure how much it would really matter once he got into the arena and had to put all his effort into not dying.
In a familiar gesture, Harry closed his eyes and gripped the small pouch that hung around his neck through his shirt. He couldn't feel the power like he usually did when touching just the locket, but there was a faint pull that soothed him, if only a little. Harry focused on deep breaths, letting his mind follow the current of air that slipped passed his lips, down his throat, and pooled in his lungs before slipping back out through his nose.
It felt like only seconds had gone by, but Harry was suddenly startled from his focus when the announcer exclaimed Viktor's praise and gladly stated that Viktor was currently in the lead. Harry wasn't surprised when Viktor came striding confidently back into the tent with a large golden egg under his arm and hardly a scratch on him. Though, he was caught a little off guard when Viktor paused, met Harry's gaze, and gave what could barely be considered a nod of acknowledgement.
The announcer informed the still-cheering audience that their youngest, and last champion was up next. There was a bit of a commotion from within the stadium as Harry imagined the Horntail was being brought out and not exactly thrilled about its predicament.
The cannon sounded took a deep breath, set his shoulders, and wandlessly cancelled the stasis charm. Harry took a moment of comfort in the smell of the potion that wafted up to him from his clothes before exiting the tent, holly wand clutched tightly in-hand. There was a short canvas tunnel that led straight up to the entrance of the arena. Harry moved cautiously and at the first glimpse of the crowds, the arena erupted into cheers and shouts. He winced slightly at the noise, he could only imagine what all that noise did to the already-aggravated dragon. All in all, it probably wasn't doing him any favors.
Harry stepped out of the archway and quickly took in the arena. It was about the size of a quidditch pitch, but instead of a flat stretch of grass, it was full of jagged boulders and sharp juts of rock from the ground. There was barely any flat ground and Harry wondered if they had simply used the naturally rocky, uneven, and treacherous landscape of the forbidden forest where the mountains pushed up through the ground. Just minus the trees.
The raining had—thankfully—softened into only a light misting, but the previous downpours—as well as the previous forays between champion and beast just before Harry—had made the compacted dirt soft and muddy, and all of the rocks were dangerously slick. The mud would swallow his footsteps, slowing him down, and the rocks would be even harder to climb. It was not a promising turn of events.
Harry had only a few moments to take that all in before he was violently ripped from his thoughts by the sudden appearance of an enormous tail with spikes as long as his arm that slammed into the rock next to him, breaking through it as if it were nothing, and causing him to fling himself off of the ledge at the entrance and drop down to the muddy space between rocks and run to escape the next few attempts to turn him into minced meat. The screams and gasps from the stands became background noise as Harry turned all of his focus on the dragon.
He stopped behind a boulder when the beast released a jet a fire at him that would have left him charred if he tried to continue running. His chest was heaving more from adrenaline than exertion. The drab pallet of the scene around him was cut through by the brilliant orange flames licking around sides of the boulder. Waiting until the very second that the dragon stopped to take another breath, Harry shot around the side and cast a quick shield and then several overpowered stunners and bombarda spells at the creature as he ran for the next closest cover. Both of which barely gave the enormous creature pause.
As soon as Harry reached cover, he was dismayed when he was not followed by flames, but the thumps and scrapes of claws against stone as the Horntail decided to come after Harry and use its other defenses instead. Cursing under his breath, Harry forced his body to move as fast as possible without slipping, hoping to put more space and physical barriers between him and the dragon. He was almost to the next cluster of boulders when he noticed the sudden increase in shouting from the crowd, and how it had sounded more panicked than excited. That had been Harry's only warning before the dragon, that was much closer than he'd anticipated, hit him from the side with the back of its foot and swatted him aside as if he were nothing. Harry was airborne for only a moment before he connected with a rock face and tumbled off the side.
Where he fell left him mostly hidden from the crowd's view, making the arena go eerily quiet. Harry was thankful for the cover, because it meant that nobody saw his expression of intense pain when he sat up. His impact with the unyielding rock face came with the gut-wrenching pop and an explosion of pain through his shoulder as it felt like the muscles were being torn apart. The pain was so intense that Harry immediately felt the blood drain from his face and the first warning shivers of shock up his spine. When the arm connected refused to move at his command Harry instinctively knew that it have been dislocated.
Reaching across his chest with his good arm, Harry carefully slipped his fingers under the collar of his shirt and ever so gently prodded his shoulder. Sure enough, where there was usually the firm curve of his shoulder, there was now a soft and malleable indent of space. It was good news, in that he hadn't broken anything, and it wasn't his wand arm, but it would also cost him dearly in points if the judges saw.
Taking several deep breaths, Harry cast a powerful numbing charm on his shoulder and tucked it close to his body. He knew that the rest of his body would be aching something fierce as well, had his system not been flooded with adrenaline. He only knew how badly he'd been banged up by the numbness in certain areas, as well as the warmth at points of his body that had been cut or scrapped and now oozed lethargic crimson into his blue uniform. But nothing they could take points for, unlike his shoulder.
The dragon hadn't turned his little shelter into a furnace of hellfire yet, so Harry assumed that it had retreated to the center hill of shale where the make-shift nest resided. It was on the defensive and Harry knew his minutes were ticking by, he would have to make an attempt for the egg soon if he had any hopes of not being last.
Slowly peaking over the top of the rock, Harry ignored the raucous cheering and shouts of relief as the audience finally caught sight of his very-alive form. As he'd expected, the Hungarian Horntail sat perched on the center-most rock, tending to its eggs. Making sure that it was looking away when he did so, Harry carefully climbed out of his hiding place and silently slipped over the back of the rock and down to the muddy earth.
Keeping an ear out for the dragon, Harry quickly made work of producing a suitable distraction. Finding a large rock roughly the size of his head, Harry quietly transfigured it into a rubber ball about the same size and charmed it into a fleshy peach color. Shrugging carefully out of his outer robe, Harry levitated the ball, slid the hood of the robe over the ball and stuck them together with a household spell he'd learned first year. A few more spells and it filled into roughly his height and weight.
He was incredibly grateful that he'd taken the time to look through different variants of levitation spells when preparing for the first task. During his search, he'd found the class of magic used for toys and other inanimate objects given a very low caliber of sentience so that it could move on its own. Harry wasn't very well versed in that particular magic, so he knew it wouldn't hold for long, but if he moved quickly it should work.
With that final spell, Harry's decoy turned around and shot off in the opposite direction. It would stay close to the wall and dodge whatever came at it the best it could. Harry waited, watching the dark hulking figure in the distance until it suddenly perked up and shot off of the rock with a bellow. Not wasting another moment, Harry set off towards the nest at a dead sprint, though he kept light on his feet.
Unfortunately, the ground was still too wet and slippery underfoot and he dropped to the rocky floor a few times, no doubt bruising his shins, cutting his hands, and scraping his knees even further. Each time though, Harry was careful not to break his fall with his left hand. As such, he wasn't making nearly as good of time as he'd hoped. Though, he could still hear the dragon chasing his decoy and spewing flames around the edges of the arena.
Finally, Harry came to the base of the pile of boulders that led up to the nest and he felt a surge of energy at being so close. Pushing everything else out of his mind, Harry began his mad scramble upwards, climbing each boulder as fast as he could with his injured shoulder. However, Harry froze only halfway up when his ears rang with sudden silence. Heart clenching hard and blood throbbing in his veins, Harry slowly turned to look over his shoulder, as if afraid any movements would bring everything crashing down around him.
For the second time during that first task, Harry felt all the blood drain from his face and extremities. The sight that greeted his back was heart-stopping. The Hungarian Horntail was at the other end of the arena and its large gold eyes were trained right on the young Ravenclaw, glistening like galleons in the pale overcast light. Even from that distance, Harry could see its pupils dilate and its entire frame become still as stone, ready to attack.
For three solid beats, Harry didn't dare breathe. But when his mind started to function again, Harry knew he needed to move before the dragon decided to. Making sure he had a solid foothold in the rock still, Harry tensed his body and then a second later all hell broke loose as Harry put all of his strength into turning and launching himself over the rocks to get as high as possible. All the while he heard the crunching of rocks and claws and bone-chilling growls as the dragon also surged forward.
Harry forced his every muscle and joint into working overtime to get him up the rock faster, but it didn't seem to matter. The dragon was moving too quickly, his injured shoulder greatly impeded his movements, and there was no way he'd be able to grab the egg and make a run for it. On the other hand, he knew that the trainers wouldn't think to step in until it was too late and Harry had a dozen new holes impaling his body, so he knew he had to do something.
Putting all of his inhibitions out of his mind, Harry gritted his teeth and pushed up the last foot he needed until he was on top of the rock. Leaning into the large nest of sticks and branches, Harry reached over the other eggs and grabbed the golden imposter. But he was too late, he could practically feel the hot breath at his back and before he could leap to the other side of the rock, a long claw swiped down and caught the leg of his trousers—thankfully not piercing his actual leg—and dragged him down so that he lost his footing and fell onto his stomach beside the nest.
His eardrums protested painfully when the dragon roared at his back. In one final last-ditch effort, Harry rolled over and flung out his good arm with his wand held tight. In a desperate and determined shout, Harry's voice barely broke through the sound of the dragon's cry as he used the only spell that came to mind in that moment of panic. It was very complicated and certainly above the level of someone his age, but he had to throw caution to the wind if he wanted to protect his biggest secret.
"CONFUNDO!"
The lightless spell exploded out of Harry's holly wand with so much power it sounded like a thunderclap and the air was visibly disturbed by the magic. The dragon jerked back as it was hit and shuddered violently as it blinked and tossed its massive head about. Harry didn't waste the opportunity, though his trousers were still caught by the massive claw and he couldn't go anywhere, he truly hoped his efforts hadn't been for naught and that this would actually work.
Using wandless and nonverbal magic, Harry wove his magic out and through the strands of wind and tugged a strong gust down towards himself. It hit his feverish flesh in a painfully icy blast that permeated his clothing and swept down his skin. Then he used his magic to guide the currents up into the face of the confunded beast just as it ceased its wild shudders and uneasy movements. Harry noted the way its almond-shaped nostrils flared at the end of its snout with bated breath. Then came the fluttering dilations of its slit pupils as it, hopefully, processed the scents it'd received.
It huffed a few gentle breaths before its enormous jaws snapped shut and the head that was larger than Harry, came forth and softly nudged at his abdomen as it snuffled and took in his scents. Harry practically collapsed against the rock in relief, his head hitting the hard surface rather painfully, but he couldn't care less. He breathed hard and huffed out a few shaky laughs as the nesting Horntail continued to sniff him curiously.
The stadium, which had gone deathly quiet right at the end there, burst into cheers louder than he'd ever heard. Even the announcer was shouting and exclaiming how Harry's impressive confundus was powerful enough to stop the dragon—only partially true. Harry only thought to move from his exhausted reprieve when the dragon started to focus its sniffing-business on his dislocated shoulder—which had started to truly throb again now that the numbing spell was wearing off—and was making high-pitched whining noises that Harry really didn't need anyone noticing.
Sitting up carefully, Harry held the egg under his bad arm—as it would give him an excuse not to move it—and started sliding down the rock. The dragon, in turn, moved up the rocks and began to tend to its eggs once more as Harry made his way out of the arena, keeping his back straight and his posture relaxed. The pain in his shoulder was starting to really take up all of his attention, so Harry only vaguely took in the score the judges had given him, which left him tied with Viktor for first.
The stands continued their loud celebrating and Harry slipped back through the arena entrance and into the champion's tent, where only Viktor resided still. The Bulgarian champion seemed ready to ignore him, but Harry had other plans. Dropping the golden egg on one of the transfigured couches, Harry looked over at Krum and sighed with what he was about to do.
"Krum." Harry called, pulling the distracted gaze of the older boy who'd been studying the designs on the outside of his own egg. It was then that Viktor looked at Harry for the first time and truly took in the muddied, slightly scraped up, and haggard appearance of the young champion and one of his dark brows rose. Harry spoke before he could comment. "Mind helping a fellow champion with something quick before the others get here?" The last part of his proposition seemed to elicit enough curiosity for Viktor to actually stop what he was doing and approach Harry.
"What do you need help with?" He asked, his English quite good and clear despite his deep accent.
"It'll only take a few seconds, but can you come stand right here?" Harry indicated to his left side, pretending not to notice the perplexed look the other was giving him until the seeker complied. "Brilliant. Now I need you to do exactly as I say and this'll be over in a jiff." Harry kept his upper arm pressed to his side and bent his elbow at a ninety-degree angle and rotated it until it stuck out in front of him like he was about to shake someone's hand. At that point, the pain flared up so intensely that Harry had to stop and he could feel his face blanch and beads of sweat form all over his body.
"Okay, I need you to take ahold of my hand and elbow, and slowly turn it until my hand is closest to you. If you feel resistance, stop for a moment then we'll start again. I'll be keeping my upper arm against my side. I'll tell you what to do once we get there." Harry explained, his voice sounding strained even to his own ears. It took a moment, but eventually the confused champion complied.
Harry closed his eyes and breathed through the pain as his arm was turned. Once it was in the proper position, Harry opened his eyes once more and continued to instruct the larger boy, still sounding rather choked.
"Alright, next I need you to, slowly, lift my arm whilst keeping it bent like this. Move it upwards as if I were trying to touch my other shoulder over my head. Again, if you feel resistance, stop for a moment then start again." Harry watched as Viktor's eyebrows shot up and comprehension filled his face.
"You dislocated your shoulder?!" It was not really a question, but Harry answered anyways. Giving a wry smile that probably looked more like a grimace.
"It would seem so, wouldn't it?" Harry's attempt to make light of the situation went right over Krum's head and the older boy just frowned.
"Why didn't you go to the infirmary tent like the others?" His tone was accosting and Harry was reminded of how lucky he was that Viktor was the one there to see him hurt and not one of the overprotective devils he tended to keep in his company. Harry did not let himself be cowed by the other's tone and leveled him with a deadpan look.
"Isn't it obvious? The judge's doc points for any even remotely serious injury and Merlin knows Mr. Karkaroff and Madame Maxime are just itching to take as many points as possible from the 'extra champion.' I need any advantage I can get in this tournament if I'm going to make it out alive. And besides, it's a dislocated shoulder, not a broken bone. I don't even need magic to fix it and as soon as it's back in place, I'll barely feel it—certainly not worth losing so many points over. Speaking of, I'm in quite a lot of pain right now and would appreciate if we finished this conversation after." Harry reminded and Viktor seemed to jump as he realized Harry was still very injured.
Refocusing on the task, Krum slowly raised Harry's arm, pausing twice when there was a tug of resistance and Harry hissed in pain. This part was by far more painful than just turning it had been. Harry's elbow was almost above his head before there was a sudden pop as the joint slid back into place and Harry sucked in a harsh breath through gritted teeth. There was only a flash of bright pain before it suddenly dropped down into a heavy throb that was far more bearable.
Viktor helped him lower his arm, even though he could technically move it now. It felt like all of the muscles in his shoulder and upper arm had been strained and stretched too far and now he would just have to wait a few days for the ache to go away. Harry got his hard breathing under control and managed to shoot Viktor a grateful smile just before the flaps to the tent opened and in came an entourage of people.
Fleur and Cedric shuffled in, already smeared with a glistening healing salve for their burns, which looked nearly gone. They were followed by the five judges. Viktor was moving back over the table that he'd deposited his egg upon when Cedric made his way over and quietly asked Harry how he was doing.
"I could hear the crowds through the tent and bits and pieces of what the tournament commentator was saying, but I'm still not really sure what happened. All I know is that there was a whole lot of screaming." Cedric admitted, looking weary from his own run-in with a dragon. Harry nodded, even though he wasn't fully aware of just how much screaming had taken place, he recalled it being loud.
Harry shifted closer and lowered his voice so that he wouldn't be overheard by the others.
"That potion, it really saved my hide back there." Harry confessed and Cedric matched the small secret smile they shared.
"Good. I guess I didn't really need it, as I never got that close to it, but I have to say that it was certainly comforting while I was in there." Harry didn't tell Cedric just how close he had to get and what he had to do in order for it to work, and instead just nodded in acquiescence.
"Ladies, gentlemen, if I may have your attention for a moment." Ludo called for attention. "Now, as I mentioned before, these eggs each contain a clue as to your next task. The second task will take place on the 24th of February. Quite a-ways away, but do not slack, for time will pass before you know it!" There was a pause and Bagman's serious expression gave way to amusement and jubilation. "I'm sure you'll all be wishing to celebrate your victories with your friends and peers now so I'll cut you loose. Off with you!" Ludo Bagman exclaimed and the champions ambled out with their headmasters and headmistress.
Harry ignored the twinge in his shoulder, as well as the gaze he could feel on his back from an undoubtedly curious Viktor Krum, as he made the short walk through the trees towards the castle. At that point, the crowds were in the middle of evacuating the arena and bringing their celebration into the warm confines of the castle.
Harry was soon joined by his frantic friends and two fatigued guardians who had watched from the stands. Harry's procession was stopped by the several pairs of arms that encapsulated him, though he couldn't find it in him to complain. Most of the crowds had dwindled to nothing by then anyways. Harry was only chided a little by the worry warts as they squeezed and lamented their fears at seeing Harry in such a situation. Soon his friends decided to give them some space and said that they would see Harry inside, leaving the three to themselves.
Remus, who was holding Harry tightly, pulled back a little used his fingers to brush away some of the dried mud on Harry's cheeks and sooth back his wild hair. It was such a strangely affectionate and parental gesture that a solid lump formed in Harry's throat and he had to look away from the odd glisten in his guardian's eyes for his own seemed to burn slightly in response to the sight. Remus pulled him closer once again, one arm around his shoulders and the other with a hand on the back of his head to press his cheek to the wolf's chest. Harry fisted his hands in Remus' robes and listened to the rapidly pounding heart against his ear, as well as the soothing rumble of the wolf behind his ribs.
"You're going to give me a heart attack, pup!" Remus whispered into his hair. Harry's only response to that statement was to turn his face away from the cooling evening air and press his forehead to Remus' chest to that he could better surround himself with the scent of home, instead of fear and potions and smoke.
In that moment, Harry desperately wished for a night off. To be able to leave Hogwarts for one evening, go home with his family for a quiet night of food that always tasted better on his own plates and lighthearted discussions by the fire. To reconnect with what grounded him through all of the chaos that was his life. Harry's chest swelled and for a moment he felt hesitance, knowing that this had nothing to do with his goals, would not bring him any closer to resurrecting Voldemort, would gain him nothing. And yet . . . when he pulled back and asked to do just that, for the first time in a very long time, Harry felt small and dependent and filled with such unabashed longing that it nearly took his breath away. It was something completely new, untraversed territory, to put himself in the care of someone else so willingly.
Remus didn't even hesitate to nod firmly and look at Harry like he would like nothing more in the world. Harry went in for another hug and his eyes burned once again because finally, finally, he felt like he was becoming a part of this little family. That he was finally allowing himself to be a part of it instead of just going through the motions. It wasn't just 'Harry and Guardians,' bound together by the broken shards of past ties and friendships Harry never witnessed or bindingly legal duties to provide. They were a family, and they were his parents.
Harry felt gold running through his veins, molten and beautiful. The very air he breathed turned into vaporous honey in his lungs and his fingers and toes tingled with the intoxicating feeling of it. Now he understood what drove people to do anything to protect this. It felt so delicate yet so powerfully grounding. Harry would do anything to protect it as well.
It was a tiny, flickering flame in the palm of his hand and more than anything, Harry wanted to share it. He wanted to carry it in his palm through every trial and tribulation, keeping it lit and bringing it to another who despaired in darkness for so long. Harry would light that flame so that they too could feel this warmth, this sense of belonging. Even if he had to do it himself and remain right there the make sure it stayed alight. His other would be ignited.