It was the first time anyone of the Gryffindor 1991 generation had seen Hermione Granger close shut a book violently. The girl's devotion to books was well known, and the harsh action was a sign of how desperate they all were.

"So" said the angry witch. "You may be facing a dangerous creature or not, since they used to be part of the first task, but the 1792 cockatrice incident made it irregular. You also may be tasked to recover something of not, because at least half of the tasks involve some kind of treasure hunt. And you also may face a complex puzzle involving charms, enchantments, and logic, since that was the innovation in the last five tournaments."

Neville nodded, turning to see the rest of his friends. Ron, Lavender and Seamus were there more as a token of support, academics not being their strong suit. Dean and Parvati were Hermione's research team, trying their best to keep up with their personal bookworm. In everyone's eyes Neville could see the frustration and fear in his behalf. He took a deep sigh.

"Thank you all. We should take a break and return here tomorrow."

The other nodded, defeat clear in their faces. Neville was about to follow everyone to the tower, before his hand brushed a paper in his robes.

Fourth floor, right side, third door from the main stairs. Tournament related. Oct. 24. Between History and curfew. ALONE.

It was today! His original distrust about the mysterious note was already overrode by his desperation about the incoming tournament in less than a month. Worst case scenario, he was about to be seriously hexed, but in the best-case scenario, the author could help him with a lead, or even solve his own predicament. In Neville's head, it was worth it.

He excused himself, saying he needed an alone walk. His friends were used to said walks, and neither thought it was weird, even if Parvati looked at him inquisitively. Knowing he was late, he sprinted to the rendezvous as soon as the others lost sight of him.

Neville really didn't know what he was expecting, so Harry Potter waiting annoyed in the unused classroom didn't exactly surprised him. For the most part.

The raven-haired man shot him an annoyed look, leaping from the desk to stand up. "I thought you wouldn't come".

Neville replied defensively. "A secret note that demanded an alone meeting isn't exactly trustworthy at first glance".

The Slytherin just stared. "I would think that being entered into the deadliest tournament in the magical world would trigger your survival instincts in more ways than just distrust".

Neville glared, as that was the exact reason he was standing there. The other boy didn't bother with the staring contest. "Anyway. The first task involves dragons."

Neville blinked. And then he blinked again. He could tell the snake was toying with him, because there was no way Dumbledore will throw him against a dragon, right? And then he remembered the Cockatrice. And the article about the Basilisk Parvati had found. And the old note about a chimaera he himself found. He fell his knees wobbling a bit.

"Well. That's it, I guess. Just wanted to give you a heads up" Potter was making his way to the door before Neville stopped him.

"Wait! What do you mean? How do you know?" The Gryffindor boy was in the verge of babbling in frustration, as he detained the other boy.

Sad boy sighed. "I just told you what I know. My da- my father heard that there was a commotion about dragons in the Department of Magical Creatures near the date of the champion selection. Then my godfather heard that the Department of Magical Cooperation had to make an extra negotiation with the Romanians. Given the dates I put two and two together."

"How could they tell you?" asked a dumbfound Neville. "They are under an oath!"

The Slytherin boy looked at him like he was dumb. "They are under an oath to not help any of the champions, not talking to family. Whatever I do with that information isn't under their oaths".

The young lion just stared, as he barely believed it was that easy to circumvent the oath. "Why are you helping me then?"

Potter closed his fists. "Your mother would have been my god-mother did you know?"

Of course Neville knew. His grandmother talked about the Potters sometimes, with her appreciation for them in diverse degrees, depending on her humour.

"In another world. In another scenario, we would have grown up as brothers." Neville just stared at the other. An Slytherin showing emotion? That was new. "I just know that if it was me the one in this situation, I would like to have all the help I could gather".

Potter made his way to the door, not stopped this time by Neville. Before exiting, he turned around. "I'm not an expert, but if you want another set of eyes or a third-party opinion, I will be here next week. Same hour"

One week later found the two boys talking in the same classroom. However, Neville's pace was even more frantic this time.

"Five!" That's the most optimistic scenario. Five simultaneous stunners to knock out a small Green-Welsh. You can try to hit it in the eyes to blind it maybe, but that won't knock it out. Almost all physical damage is also blocked thanks to their armour."

The raven-haired boy stared at him, thinking at full speed. Thankfully, the answer came to him relatively quickly, and flashed the Gryffindor with a dashing smile. "Come on. Think".

"What do you mean?" asked an annoyed Neville, clearly not in the mood for jokes or games.

"This is a trial, yes? A meant to be difficult but not impossible task." The Slytherin shrugged. "There is not real contest if the four champions fail catastrophically, so it has to be at least doable".

The other boy clearly wasn't getting it, because he stared at him like he was talking about Alchemy. Harry sighed. "There is no recorded instance of a single individual defeating a dragon alone, right?" Neville nodded. "Then you won't have to defeat it. Simple"

"Bu-but"

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering if Malfoy's nonsense about the legendary Gryffindor foolishness had some real base after all. "I can think of two scenarios. One, it's a timed challenge where the champion that last the longest wins. Two, the dragon isn't the objective, but the obstacle."

Neville widened his eyes. "Dragons are known for treasure keeping".

Harry smiled. "There you go. Research in that direction. See you next week?"

"Can it be sooner; I don't think that will take me and my friends much time".

Harry shrugged. "Fine. Three days, same hour"

After three days, Harry had an amused smiled at the presentation he was being recipient of.

"So, in conclusion, male dragons only leave their caves to hunt. Lone females are the most active with nesting females being the most territorial. The myth about them being gold hoarders comes from their natural tendencies to protect shiny objects, given that a lot of their eggs have at least one metallic colour."

Neville left a small breath. That felt eerily similar to his research presentations in McGonagall's class. Looking at his acquaintance, he found him thinking. "It all points out to an object you will have to recover. Best case scenario, it would be a young male dragon who could be easily distracted and baited away. Worst case scenario it would be a mother protecting her eggs or an old dragon with bad mobility, with whatever thingy you need to recover in the middle of them."

"And what do I do?" asked an energized Neville, hope forming in his head.

Harry almost laughed. "I don't know. Distract it and either run towards the prize or try to immobilize it. I would probably try and distract him and then fly to catch the thing, but I'm unsure how well you are in a broom".

"Below average" deadpanned Neville.

"Then I would go for either a really good distraction or attempting to immobilize it. I would probably try the first. Use your strong suit, don't try to learn a new trick in two days."

"I like herbology" snickered Neville before inspiration hit him like a troll.

He barely heard Harry´s joke about the dangers of forest fires, his brain committed to this new idea. The accelerated growth charm was useless in most magical gardens and greenhouses, because it rendered plants sterile and removed almost every single magical property in the plant. However, Neville wasn't planning to harvest the damned thing, and he knew the exact change he could make to the plants internal structure to fulfil his purpose. Leaving Harry talking to air, Neville ran towards McGonagall's office, with completely-academic-totally-not-tournament-related questions.

Scene break.

Blaise, Harry and Daphne clapped politely at the impressive display of power the French champion just delivered. Putting a dragon to sleep by herself was an indicator of an incredible amount of magical power from Delacour, and the small burns in her skirt weren't worth the amount of points the judges had deducted. Crouch and Karkaroff Harry could understand, but Dumbledore own 8 seemed more of an attempt to combat school bias, rather than a fair examination of the witch's prowess.

Krum had been disappointing. The green Welsh was a relatively calm beast (for a dragon that is) and angering her by a full-frontal attack was an uninspired strategy. Harry narrowed his eyes. That approach was more fitting of a beater than a seeker, position where improvisation and adaptability were the most dominant traits.

"Dumb move?" asked Daphne politely, not aware of the contradiction between her tone and her words.

"Doubt it." said Blaise. "He probably just doesn't care."

Harry nodded. That was a good guess.

When Neville entered, the vast majority of Slytherin booed, surprisingly supported by the badgers. So much for the spirit of international cooperation when the tournament had already divided the hosts.

However, the young man soon silenced the public. Searching in his pocket and throwing whatever it was to the floor near the dragon, the beast stared at the young champion trying to assess how much of a threat he was. Distracted, the dragon didn't see the quickly growing plants until they had reached half the dragon size.

Enraged, the beast blew fire towards the plant, dragon and public expecting to see the plant turn to ashes. Nobody was paying attention to Neville, who casted a quick charm to the vines. The fire skimmed the plants like it was nothing.

Enraged, the beast charged towards the vegetal enemy, some students now able to identify it as Devil's snare, which had continued growing to rival in size with the dragon. The flying creature was hoping to shred the thing into pieces with its sharpened claws and teeth, now clear that its fire balls weren't effective. As the beats and the killer plant got tangled, Neville casted his last spell.

The complicated transfiguration filled old Minerva McGonagall's heart with pride, as she connected the not-so-subtle questions about a convenient sixth year book that Neville had asked. The plant slowly turned to a silvery colour, slowing down but also trapping the dragon in its embrace.

Roars chilled the students watching the task as Neville ran towards the nest, grabbing the egg and making his way to the exit of the arena. A proverbial trip made him fall a couple meters from the door just as the dragon finally overpowered the plant, sending flying pieces of metal towards the thankfully protected spectators. Some of them hit Neville as he was standing, forcing him to crawl the last few meters in pain.

Silence filled the air as the black horse finished the task the quickest, showing an impressive display of cunning and magic. Daphne turned towards her companions concerned. "Are you ok Harry?"

Said boy had his fists clenched, as a turmoil of questions arise inside him, some of them certainly making their way towards the Gryffindor champion in the future. He said through gritted teeth. "Yes. I just had a couple of galleons on Delacour".

AN1: Well, I did tell you that we were going to move faster in Hogwarts.

AN2: Poor Cedric, he will have to top that performance against a Hungarian Horntail. Funny how AUs work.