Ichigo swore violently and ducked instinctively. Kurosaki Isshin flew out of the open senkai gate feet first, sailing straight over Ichigo's head, the man's feet barely brushing the top of his orange hair.
"WOOW, ICHIGO!" Isshin hollered, getting up from the ground and dusting off his captain's haori, "It looks like your skills haven't rusted! Daddy's trained you well!"
"Shut the fuck up, goat-chin!" Ichigo shouted, glaring at his father. After the war with Aizen had ended, the former shinigami, along with Ichigo's sisters, had moved to Soul Society permanently. It turned out that since Isshin was a shinigami, Ichigo and his sisters were born in soul form. In a twisted, somewhat disturbing way, they were already dead when they were born.
"Yes, please shut up, Kurosaki-taicho," sighed a familiar voice. Ichigo turned back to the senkai gate, out of which more figures were emerging.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Ichigo deadpanned as the last figure stepped out of the senkai gate, which slid shut and vanished behind them. He stared at the eight captains and two vice-captains assembled in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch. "I know that I requested extra security, but isn't this a bit overkill?"
"Ne, I just wanted to see what Britain's like," grinned the snake-like Ichimaru Gin, captain of the Third division.
"I was here last time, and I must say the wizarding world is fascinating," smiled Hitsugaya Momo, captain of the Fifth division.
"I came to see you, Ichi-nii!" chirped Kurosaki Yuzu, vice-captain of the Fifth division.
"Hn. I came to keep an eye on your father," said Kuchiki Byakuya, Captain of the Sixth division, with a straight face. Ichigo breathed a sigh of relief. Thank kami, there was someone who could keep his idiot father in line.
"Yare yare… Nanao-chan kept bugging me about work, so I decided to take a break," said Kyouraku Shunsui, captain of the Seventh division, behind his wide-brimmed straw hat.
"My idiot son! I came to see how you were doing on your own! You must have gotten lonely all this time!" his idiot father, captain of the Ninth division, cried, a foolish expression across his face. Ichigo mentally facepalmed.
Hitsugaya Toushiro, captain of the Tenth division, shot the man a disgusted look. "I'm glad that you got all your genes from your mother, Ichigo."
"Che. Old Man Yamamoto ordered me not to fight you, Ichigo," spat Zaraki Kenpachi, captain of the Eleventh division. Ichigo paled at the sight of the hulking, violent captain. He paled even further when he noticed the absence of his diminutive vice-captain. Yachiru's absence could only mean that she was left running the Eleventh division back in Soul Society. He shuddered to think of the state of the division after only a day.
"Do you really need to ask why I'm here?" smirked Kurosaki Karin, vice-captain of the Thirteenth division. "Someone needs to shut the old goat-face up, and no offense, Kuchiki-taicho, I don't think it's a job you can handle on your own."
The noble only grunted, but in his mind he was agreeing wholeheartedly with the more aggressive Kurosaki twin.
Kuchiki Rukia, captain of the Thirteenth division following Ukitake's retirement, grinned. "Hey, Ichigo," she said. "How've the last few weeks been, babysitting the brats?"
Ichigo rolled his eyes and stifled a groan. "Please, don't remind me. Potter and Weasley got into a fight because Weasley's jealous of Potter. The Potions Master, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and the Durmstrang Headmaster all have the same dark reiatsu coming from their arms." He lowered his voice as he noticed students begin streaming into the bleachers, casting curious looks at the group of shinigami standing on the pitch. "I suspect they're Death Eaters. Dumbledore hasn't told me anything yet, and I don't have any proof other than the dark reiatsu, but Moody, the DADA teacher, is particularly suspicious. Keep an eye on him while you're here, please."
"The scarred one, right?" asked Toushiro. "Sure, no problem."
"Let us discuss the security then," said Byakuya as the group moved away from the pitch, heading off into the bleachers. "It's already suspected that Potter was forced into the tournament as a way for Riddle to harm him. Kurosaki-taicho and I shall guard the North side of the arena." Ichigo's father pouted at the thought of being stuck with the formal noble, but didn't complain. This was business, and business was to be taken seriously.
"Kenpachi, could you cover the East side?" asked Ichigo, and the Eleventh division captain grunted.
"Fine, it's not like I'll have anything better to do. You'll fight me once this mission is over, right?" A feral grin crossed the hulking man's face.
"Sure, whatever," said Ichigo. "After this mission, I'm gonna need some tough training. These wizards are so freaking soft. Anyway, Gin, could you take the South side?"
"Can I watch the tournament?" the Third division captain and informant during the war against Aizen, said with another wide grin. The captain-turned-traitor-turned-informant had been key in their defeat of a large portion of the Espada.
Ichigo sighed. It was no easy task, organizing so many high-class fighters. "Sure, as long as you're alert at all times. Kyouraku-san, please cover the West side."
"Sure, sure, no problem," drawled the lazy Seventh division captain.
"Toushiro, Momo, I need you two to keep an eye on Moody, Snape, and Karkaroff at all times. If they try anything fishy, let me know immediately with Tenteikura. If they do anything obvious, stop them." The couple nodded affirmative.
"Rukia, Yuzu, Karin, you're with me in the teacher's box," Ichigo continued. "If anything goes wrong in the arena with the dragons, we're the ones who are gonna be the closest to Potter. It's our job to protect him at all costs. Yuzu, you'll be playing the role of medic now. Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, is quite capable, but I don't know her triage and emergency first aid abilities. Since you trained with Unohana-taicho, you'll be the best for that job. Rukia, you're my support. If there are any problems with the dragons, use your ice to neutralize their fire. Karin and I will be the heavy hitters, due to our abilities. Everyone clear on their jobs?"
The ten shinigami nodded, and Ichigo finished, "Alright, everyone to their posts! The event starts in an hour. I don't want any people to get hurt, wizard or otherwise!"
#
Harry stared down at the miniature Hungarian Horntail crawling around on his palm. It was a bit cute, really. Just by looking at the tiny dragon, Harry could see the appeal in dragons, similar to Hagrid's obsession. Then he remembered that in a few minutes he would be facing the life-sized version of the thing in his hand, in all its spiked, fire-breathing glory, and that appeal vanished in an instant.
The roaring of the crowd filtered into the champions' tent as Fleur Delacour, the French witch and part Veela, faced her dragon. Harry vaguely wondered what the other champions' strategies were for the task. Krum was an international-level Quidditch player, maybe he had used the same method that Harry had been training for in the past weeks.
The crowd roared again, and Harry tuned out the noise and the sound of Bagman's narration as he gathered his nerves. Breathe in. Breathe out. With each breath, he calmed his thumping heart saturating his lungs with oxygen. Reaching into the combat holster on his left arm that he had bought, he touched the reassuring wood of his wand, the only weapon he was allowed for the task. Of course, if all went well, that wand would serve to provide the tool that Harry was planning to use.
After what seemed like eternity, Harry's ears finally caught the sound of Bagman announcing him. This was it. Opening his eyes, he took one last deep breath, stood up, and strode out of the tent and into the arena.
The roaring of the crowd assaulted his eardrums as his eyes struggled to adjust to the bright sunlight. After spending so much time in the dim tent, the sunlight caused him to squint in an attempt to see clearly.
Looking around at the stands of the Quidditch Pitch, Harry saw hundreds of students shouting, cheering, or booing. The last wasn't entirely unexpected, as the Hufflepuffs were still sore about his entrance into the tournament. What did surprise him, though, was the fluttering white overcoats of the Japanese wizards. There were at least five white-clad Japanese wizards, with one standing on each of the towers that marked the South, East, and West sides of the Pitch, with two standing at the North.
Sweeping his gaze through the crowd, Harry picked out two more of the Japanese wizards, sitting near the teacher's box. He was slightly surprised at first at how many of the Japanese were present, before he remembered that they were also acting as security for the tasks. A shock of bright orange hair caught his eye, and he looked to the teacher's box, where Captain Kurosaki was sitting. Additionally, Harry noticed his wife, Kuchiki Rukia, as well as two other unfamiliar faces. They were wearing the same black uniform as the other Japanese, but without the white jacket. The sun glinted off of something metal tied to their upper arms, and Harry wondered what they could be, as well as the significance of those white cloaks.
Harry caught captain Kurosaki's eye and noticed that the Japanese envoy was shouting at him. Unfortunately, his shouts were inaudible over the roaring of the crowd. He couldn't read lips, but the expression on the Captain's face, as well as the way the crowd's cheers turned into shouts and screams of horror, told him all he needed to know.
Acting purely on instinct, Harry dove away from the spot where he had been standing, landing on his shoulders and rolling behind a large boulder as a massive spiked tail smashed into his previous position, crushing the rock and sending spikes as long as his forearm into the ground.
The Horntail, a thick iron collar and chain around its neck staking it to the ground, roared aggressively, curling around its nest and its eggs protectively. Harry chanced a peek around the boulder, ducking away from another swing of the tail. The glint of gold told Harry exactly where the golden egg that was his goal was: right in the middle of the stone-colored dragon eggs that the Horntail was so jealously guarding.
Harry felt the air temperature suddenly shoot up, and he curled up into a ball behind the boulder as the dragon blasted it with fire, heating the other side red-hot. Sweat ran in rivulets down Harry's neck, dripping into the hem of his lightweight but sturdy combat robes. "Frigidus!" he cried, casting the cooling charm on himself to keep from burning from the heat. He dared not cast the spell on the rock itself, since when extremely hot objects were suddenly cooled, they would crack and crumble. Harry needed the rock as protection from the dragon's deadly breath.
He stepped away from the rock so that his back was no longer touching the boulder, which was not hot to the touch, and steeled his muscles. An instant later, the fire stopped roaring out of the dragon's gaping maw, and Harry took the chance.
Sprinting out from behind the boulder, Harry desperately sought for the next piece of cover. Behind him, the Horntail roared loudly, the sound easily drowning out the noise of the crowd. Harry knew that the dragon was preparing for another blast of fire, and in an instant his wand was in his hand. "Accio Firebolt!"
He didn't have a chance to see if the summoning spell had worked as he dove behind cover again, just in time to avoid another blast of flame. By now, his entire face was damp with sweat, and he could feel the heat on his face, the fire overwhelming the capability of the cooling charm. "Come on, come on!" he muttered, willing for the spell to have worked. It had to have, he'd been practicing with Hermione all week!
A startled gasp arose from the crowd, and Harry felt relief surge within him as he caught sight of the polished wood of his trusty broom whizzing towards him from the sky. The dragon stopped its breath and Harry sprinted up the rock that he had been hiding upon, feeling the soles of his shoes melting from the heat, and jumped.
For an instant, Harry was airborne, flying through the air without assistance, the wind whipping at his face, blowing his messy hair away from his forehead and exposing his lightning scar for the entire crowd to see. For once in his life Harry was thankful for wearing glasses, as they kept the wind out of his eyes, allowing him to see.
The next instant, Harry was firmly seated upon his broom, legs and hands wrapped around the solid oak shaft as he took control, shooting straight up into the air. A rush of exhilaration caused him to throw his head back and laugh as the crowd cheered deafeningly below. Harry grinned. He was in his element. The dragon was no threat now. The fire, the spiked tail, they were no different from the Bludgers that constantly sought to knock him off his broom during Quidditch matches, the dragon itself nothing more than just another opposing team.
Harry began circling just outside the reach of the Horntail's vicious claws, easily dodging the fire that it spat up at him. "Come on, dragon," he muttered under his breath as he forced his broom sideways, narrowly avoiding the spiked tail as it slashed through the air. "Take the bait."
Take the bait it did. With an enraged roar, the Horntail took to the air, flapping its massive wings, the downdrafts blowing the clothing of the onlookers wildly. In an instant, the dragon was before him, roaring a challenge at the pesky fly that had been circling its head.
Harry dove. Straight down, the wind tearing at his clothes and hair as he vanished from the dragon's vision in a fraction of a second. The ground rushed up to meet him as he dove, and he pulled up sharply on the handle of the broom, pulling out of the dive bare inches from the ground.
"Amazing! Simply remarkable! Mr. Potter, our youngest and least experienced champion, has not only taken to the skies, but also has just pulled off a picture-perfect Wronski Feint that rivals even the esteemed Mr. Krum's at the World Cup! Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?" Bagman's voice thundered through the arena as students cheered, leaping to their feet.
Harry sped parallel to the ground towards the clutch of dull grey eggs surrounding the golden one. As he drew closer, his gaze was drawn to the ground below, where his shadow was consumed by a large, familiar-looking object.
The crowd screamed in unison as searing pain tore through Harry's arm, the spiked tail of the Horntail ripping long bloody gashes through his combat robes. He grit his teeth through the pain and continued flying, dodging and weaving through the bursts of flame and swipes of claws and tail, his eyes focused only on the golden egg, glinting in the sunlight.
With a triumphant yell mingled with pain, he scooped up the golden egg, cradling it close to his body, blood from his mangled arm smearing over its gleaming surface as he raced desperately away from the enraged dragon.
"I've got it!" he shouted desperately, his lungs seared from the many narrow misses from the gouts of flame. "I've got the egg!"
He saw dragon-handlers rush onto the field to subdue the dragon, and his limbs went weak. The adrenaline seeped from his body, and he slowly drifted to a halt in front of the teacher's box at ground level, dropping off his broom as his body succumbed to fatigue.
#
Ichigo watched as Harry maneuvered skillfully around the Horntail's attacks and silently cursed. Of all the tactics the boy could have chosen to take on the dragon, it had to be this one. It was a high risk, high reward plan, and the kid knew it. He half started up from his seat as he watched the dragon slash it across the arm. "Get ready, Yuzu," he muttered out of the side of his mouth. His sister nodded, and he felt her gather her reiatsu around her palms as she prepared for emergency first aid.
He watched in relief as the boy floated to a halt while dragon-handlers rushed to subdue the raging Horntail. He, Karin, and Yuzu were on their feet in an instant, the light-haired twin rushing to Harry's side, the green glow of kidou surrounding her hands in an instant
Ichigo sighed. It was over. Or so it seemed. A massive flare of reiatsu behind him caused him to whip around, turning his attention to the Horntail. With a roar, the massive dragon jerked its neck once, twice, thrice, and with a loud SNAP the chain the dragon to the ground broke, and the Horntail spun in a circle, sending the six dragon-handlers flying.
"Shit. Yuzu, take Potter and get him out of here. Bakudo no. 77, Tenteikura! ||All shinigami, we have an emergency situation in the grounds! Combat troops, to me! Momo, help the teachers evacuate the Pitch!||"
In an instant, all the shinigami were assembled on the pitch, with Momo flash-stepping to the side to help the teachers evacuate and Yuzu healing Harry. Gin, Byakuya, Kyouraku, Toushiro, Isshin, Kenpachi, Ichigo, and Rukia stood, blades drawn, facing down the Horntail.
Another roar sounded, and the Chinese Fireball, Swedish Shortsnout, and Welsh Green appeared on the field, crashing through the stands and roaring in anger and defiance at the shinigami.
#
Cliffhanger! Who set the dragons loose? And how will the shinigami, limited as they are by their gigai, fare against them? Stay tuned!
~fokker333