Iris Potter and the Goblet's Surprise

by AutumnSouls

The Girl Who Lived is young, small, but fierce and not easily controlled. A story of her mischief and troubles in her fourth year of Hogwarts. New tasks, lots of snarky humor, fem!Harry/Fleur. ABANDONED.

9. First Degree Burns

Author's Notes:

Somebody mentioned to me that my Dursleys must have been more abusive than canon for Iris to still be affected by them. Honestly, if anything, I think JK Rowling seriously downplayed the child abuse. Petunia swung a frying pan at his head often enough that he learned to duck it. He grew up in a cupboard. He was often called boy or freak. He didn't have any friends. There's no way, realistically, that Harry would become this brave and witty sociable person the second he walks into Hogwarts.

The Dursleys here didn't beat Iris. They didn't torture her, rape her, brand her with a cross, or anything ridiculous like that. But she did grow up in a cupboard. She was often called freak, girl, or you. She didn't get a chance to feel pretty, to dress nice, to play like a kid should. Ten years of that, especially if it's in the early years of a person's life, will seriously fuck a person up. Iris was worse off than Harry when she first arrived to Hogwarts in this story, but she was mostly able to move past it by the time second year started. The stay with the Weasleys helped. Two years was enough for me to move past my issues with the people who raised me, so I don't think I'm being unrealistic with Iris.

---

Chapter 9

First Degree Burns

1994, November 24, First Sector.

She was in a field of flowers, half the size of the Great Hall. There was an empty clearing on the far side of this small arena, where there were no flowers or grass, but instead, a wooden floor. Iris took this as the place she was supposed to go. Before she began to walk, she heard a fluttering behind her, and she turned.

There was the enchanted Snitch, an eyeball with two small white wings attached to the small bits of gold on both sides of the eye. Iris tilted her head at it, curiously. It was rather disturbing. She tore her own eyes off of it and stepped further into the field of flowers. Was something to jump out at her? Surely not. The grass wasn't nearly tall enough to let a creature large enough to hurt her hide inside. Of course, not every dangerous creature was large. She could think of a dozen different things that were small and capable of killing her —

There was buzzing, the same she had heard before, in the tent, and the flowers began swaying, though there was no wind. The field became a cacophony of color. There was no pattern, no coordination — they were all moving their own directions, as if each had a mind of its own.

And then, new flowers began crawling up from the existing flowers, and they were all blue. It looked as though flowerheads were sprouting from the stems of already existing flowers —

But they weren't flowers at all, for these new blue shapes were now reaching above the flowers, and none had stems. The buzzing was growing louder, and Iris finally realized what they were.

Billywigs.

Iris almost laughed. These were unnerving her as they came from beneath the flowers?

Iris raised her wand, and put as much force into her spell as she could — though not lethal, there were enough to sting her to leave her levitating for weeks. "Ventus!"

The gust of wind that shot from the end of wand sent the majority of the billywigs spiraling out of control, but it wasn't enough. There was another version of the Wind Charm, but Iris couldn't seem to think of it. Instead, she said, "Depulso!"

This sent the billywigs even more out of control, and Iris took the opportunity to sprint to the wooden floor. She reached it in seconds, but there was nothing there. She looked at the ground, hoping to see a lever or handle of some sort — she even stomped on it, but her search was stopped short when the angry droning of the billywigs headed her way, vehemently.

Vehemently.

She whipped around and raised her wand, having suddenly remembered the more powerful version of the Wind Charm. "Ventus Vehemens!"

It was as though a giant had gotten on its knees and let out a gale of breath, as though there was a sudden hurricane in this very confined spot; the flowers, the grass, the billywigs, it was chaos. The grass looked as though a heavy boulder had just rolled through, flattening it temporarily. The billywigs that weren't directly in front of her were sent flying into the wall and the tent, and the ones closest to Iris were now laying on the ground, perhaps dead.

"Oh," Iris said in surprise.

"And Miss Potter has —" Bagman began, but before Iris could hear the rest of his amplified sentence, the wooden floor beneath her disappeared, and with a small yelp, she fell into depths of the abyss below, Bagman's voice no longer audible.

She turned as she fell, pointed her wand downwards, and performed a spell to slow her fall down drastically. It was one of the first spells Wood had taught her when she joined the Quidditch team. However, she didn't sense the feedback of the ground below, and yet she continued falling. She lit her wand, gave a little flick, and the ball of light shot downward.

The ball of light hit something, and Iris shouted her spell again, "Arresto Momentum!"

She felt herself slow down, and she could tell that it wasn't just her own spell helping her. Her spell would have let her land without breaking every bone in her body, but it wouldn't have been a fun landing.

Of course, they wouldn't have let a champion simply fall to their deaths. Of course they'd put their own charms in place. This, with the addition of Iris's own spell, greatly decreased her descent, and after a few moments, she spun herself in midair, and landed softly on the ground, feet first.

The Snitch came to fly steadily — more steadily than normal Snitches did — in front of her, and with irritation plainly shown on her face, Iris gave it a rude gesture with her hand.

It was the silence and darkness that greeted Iris as she took in her surroundings. It reminded her eerily of what happened in the Forbidden Forest. She flicked several more balls of light in every direction, illuminating the large cave. The darkness was replaced with walls full of spiders and bats both as large as house-elves, and snakes as long as brooms. The giant bats in particular looked more than a little irritated at Iris, their dark eyes glinting malevolently, either from anger or from the spells Iris had cast. Or perhaps both.

"Ah, Professor Snape! Good to see you," Iris joked at one of the larger bats. She was sure she could sense the vein bulging from Snape's forehead from here.

As she stood in the center of it all, the bats staring down at her from their high vantage points, the spiders staying silent and still on their walls, and the snakes slowly making their way towards her, she heard a small whining coming from one of her pockets. She found the pocket, and found Inigo inside, hiding.

"Coward," Iris whispered. It was likely for the best, however, because she wasn't sure if the judges would be happy if she had a pet dragon flying around helping her, setting anything dangerous on fire. "Stay in there, bud," she said, and she used her wand to stitch the pocket up half way. Inigo would be able to breathe and stick his head out, but he wasn't to escape this way.

And then she heard a whisper from near her: "She must have one of ours."

Iris slowly turned her head to look in the direction of the noise, but found only snakes.

"No," hissed another snake, "she is it. She is a speaker of ours. A Serpent-Tongue!"

The snakes around this one erupted into hissing, and Iris could make out bits of the conversations — or rather, arguments:

"Impossible, it is unlikely." "No, it is true." "She has no serpent in her clutches, it must be her!" "Blasphemy!" "Quiet, Rodent-Devourer!" "I have not said anything!" "Not you, the other Rodent-Devourer!"

Iris stood frozen, her jaw hanging, as she listened to the snakes bicker amongst themselves.

"Enough!" she hissed at the group, and they all turned to her.

The snakes burst out in hissing again. "I told you!" "Speaker!" "Never would we expect this!" "Bow down to the speaker!" "We can not bow, imbecile." "Nonsense!"

"Silence," Iris hissed. "Tell me, my friends, where the exit from this place is."

Before they could answer, there was a whoosh, and Iris felt something slam into her back. Sharp teeth dug through both her leather jacket and the sweatshirt underneath, into her shoulder, and painfully pierced the skin.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Iris before she instinctively reached her right hand over her shoulder, and felt a furry head. She grabbed it hard, and swung the bat over her shoulder and onto the ground in front of her. Before she could stomp on it, several snakes dove at the bat, hissing angrily.

She reached her fingers to where it stung. She had hoped nothing would get through two layers of charmed clothing so easily, but blood appeared on her fingers as she pulled them back. She wasn't that surprised. Even between her and Hermione, there were only so many charms they could place on a piece of clothing.

Iris heard another bat swooping down and she sidestepped it before it could attach itself to her. There was a soft clattering of steps now, and she saw the spiders making their way towards her, far quicker than she would have thought possible. She could imagine Ron's face paling.

"The spiders!" Iris hissed urgently, but the snakes were already throwing themselves at the large spiders.

She ducked as another bat tried to pounce on her. "Reducto!" she said, and the bat was hit hard enough to send it back, its blood trailing the body. Another bat dove at her and it was nothing more than blood and bones after Iris tore it apart with another spell.

She glanced at the battle between the spiders and snakes, and saw they were tearing each other apart. She felt a bit of guilt, having ordered them to their death, but they had defended her before she had asked them to.

Several more dead bats later, Iris began making her way towards what looked like an exit. The bats seemed to have understood they couldn't take her down by themselves, and a dozen grouped together in the air, and began to dive at her. She raised her wand at them.

"Confringo!" Iris bellowed, pushing as much magic into her spell as possible, and the cluster of bats exploded in fire. Iris was forced to throw up a hasty Protego Charm when the cluster of bats turned into a flaming cluster of bats.

She cursed. The Expulso Curse would have done better there.

She leaped over several spiders and dead bats, shot a quick Flame-Stream Curse (Igneum Perpetua) over her shoulder. She heard the shrieks of the burning bats, but didn't turn to look; she raced to the exit, a swarm of them flying behind her — she saw a wooden door. She threw a Shield Charm over her shoulder — the shield falter as at least a dozen bats slammed into it — she slammed into the door, turning the handle as she did so, and shut it as quickly as she had opened it. She heard several thuds on the other side.

"Duro!" Iris said harshly, breathing heavily. The door turned to stone, and Iris immediately sent three balls of light into the room she was now in.

There was no need; the room was rather small and only had a ladder in it, which led up to a trapdoor.

"Alohamora," Iris whispered, and she heard the trapdoor unlock. Each step on the wooden ladder weakened not only the ladder itself but Iris's faith in the ladder holding up. She cast the Hardening Charm on the ladder and let it turn to stone before she tried again. She had a foreboding feeling about the door above though.

"Expulso," Iris said, pointing her wand up. There was a small flash of blue light before the trapdoor above her became an explosion of splinters, the wood reaching the ceiling of the room the trapdoor led into, and falling back down; Iris ducked her head down and threw her hood over her head before continuing the climb; the wood rained down, and indeed, it was as though only rain fell on her head.

She looked back up at the hole she had made. Why did she bother using the Unlocking Charm? She should have just blown it up from the beginning.

If they're going to try their hardest to kill me, I'll be damned if I don't blow up everything of theirs that I can.

Inigo poked his black scaled head out of her pocket and hissed.

"Get back in there," Iris ordered. Inigo obeyed, but before Iris could continue her way up the ladder, she heard the crow of a rooster coming from the room above.

A rooster? It couldn't be just a rooster. Unless it's a thousand roosters, it was the sound of another creature. But what other creature sounded like that? Iris couldn't think of any as she made her way up the ladder.

She poked her head above the hole and looked around. There were numerous large crates and furniture scattered throughout the room, which was roughly the size of the Great Hall. She climbed through the hole and stood at the edge of it, observing her surroundings. She heard the pattering of light footsteps behind some crates, and she backed away from the hole in the ground. It wouldn't do to fall through and die that way.

She held her wand in front of her, ready for whatever it was that was lurking behind it all —

And then, green fumes came from behind one of the crates, and it began to spread throughout the room quickly. She had no idea what it was, but it looked dangerous, just by its sickly green color.

Iris threw herself over one of the smaller crates, aimed her wand at the gas, and said, "Incendio!"

Before the flame even visiblyreached the smokish substance, the entire area covered by the green fume exploded in fire — Iris was forced to duck behind the crate to avoid being scorched. She hoped it killed whatever it was that was there with her.

There was a loud and angry screech from right behind her. Her instincts kicked in — she threw herself to the side just as a spiked tail slashed across the ground where she had hidden. Iris looked up, wide-eyed, at the creature. It stood on top of the smoldering crate. It was a creature with two legs, a scaly body, two large feather wings, and a rooster's head; it was about the size of a hippogriff, but much thinner and more serpent-like.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Iris muttered.

A cockatrice? They added a cockatrice on top of everything else? It was as if they actually wanted her to die. Didn't one injure several judges in one of the previous tournaments, and they were adding one as part of a task?

The cockatrice opened its mouth, and Iris saw the green vapors — she had a spell ready: "Ventus Vehemens!"

The fumes coming out of the cockatrice's mouth were immediately blown back with the owner. The cockatrice flopped backwards, unto the ground, and slid back several feet before getting back up, screeching, and charging Iris again.

"Confringo!" Iris yelled, but the spell bounced right off the cockatrice and into a table, causing it to burst into fire. Iris racked her brain for the reason for this. She threw a Reductor Curse, a Blasting Curse, an Expulso Curse, a Stunning Spell, but all they did was slow it down. Cockatrice's were incredibly resistant to magic, apparently.

The cockatrice lunged at her — "Protego!" — Iris dove behind a group of large crates and navigated her way through the tightest spots she could, hoping the cockatrice would be too large to follow her too deep in the maze of wood. She could hear the cockatrice searching for her, tearing apart anything it could; she had really pissed it off. What was she to do now?

A plan formed in a split second. She would just need something to cover the hole.

Iris burst through an opening from the crates — she sent a table and several chairs at the cockatrice with an overpowered Banishing Charm. Unlike the Expulso Curse, the Banishing Charm wouldn't destroy whatever its target was, even if it was overpowered; it would magically push the targets away, and in Iris's usage just now, at a great speed.

Iris slid behind a crate and banished it at the direction of the cockatrice. She barely heard the pained squawk — she flipped a table over and sent two Severing Charms at the table legs.

The cockatrice was back again, and Iris rolled sideways, narrowly dodging another swipe of its tail. She grabbed a table leg, threw it in front of her, and Banished it at the cockatrice. To her great pleasure, it went straight into its throat, and the cockatrice reeled back, choking.

Iris grabbed the other three table legs and began transfiguring each of them. It was slower than she wanted, but she had never been the best at Transfiguration. By the time she had gotten two of them, the cockatrice had coughed up the table leg and Iris was forced to throw the third table leg aside.

The cockatrice leapt at her — Iris grabbed the two small transfigured spears with both hands, her wand left forgotten on the floor — what good was it now really? — just as with the basilisk and the sword, she threw her entire weight behind the spears — one spearhead pierced a weak spot on its neck, the other bounced off the scales.

The cockatrice's momentum pushed the spear further in, and it attempted to reel back once more, this time with a spearhead in its throat. Iris let go. She turned, kicked the tabletop, letting it slide just above the hole she had created. She went to grab her wand, but was forced to withdraw her wand as the cockatrice's tail swiped near the spot. She picked up the other spear, swung on her heels, and swiped at the cockatrice —

The force of her swipe and the hard scales of the beast caused her to drop the spear as it vibrated hard in her hands. It was no matter — she reached for her wand, turned, and leapt as far as she could — she flew over the table top, somersaulted, turned on her knees, and it was just as she hoped: the cockatrice was running straight for her.

"Accio Tabletop!" Iris shouted, and the tabletop left its spot at precisely the correct moment. It slammed into her knees painfully, but the hole was unveiled — the cockatrice leapt over the hole and at Iris instead — she lifted the tabletop at the last second, the claws of the creature latching onto the wood itself. Its beak began attempting to pluck the skin of her face off — she had to tilt the tabletop in a manner to get it to back off, and then, with the greatest physical effort it had surely ever cost her, she managed to push the cockatrice off of her and towards the hole.

It tried to escape, but with Iris manoeuvring the table just so, its claws were unable to escape the wood. Iris managed to push on of her legs up, and she used the ground as something to push against. She threw her whole weight behind the tabletop and pushed as hard as she could. The cockatrice was so busy trying to stop the push that it didn't think to simply reach over and jam its beak into the back of her neck.

With one final push, something she should not have been physically capable of doing, given the fact the cockatrice was twice her size, she toppled the cockatrice over and into the hole. It screeched the entire way down, until —

There was a soundly thud, and the room was completely silent with the exception of the young champion's heavy breathing.

She knew she wasn't done with the first sector yet — there was at least a three-headed dog left, but an immense feeling of satisfaction, relief, and delight washed over her. She, Iris Potter, a fourteen year old girl, had just killed a cockatrice single-handedly, and she had gotten away without a scratch —

That reminded her. She felt along her left shoulder and felt wetness. She had completely forgotten about healing the bat bite in her adrenaline, which, admittedly, was still running through her veins. She took her leather jacket off and tossed it aside, ignoring the angry hissing coming from inside the jacket. She pushed the collar of the sweatshirt aside.

It wasn't pretty. Two large puncture holes were drilled into the back of her shoulder, and blood was still seeping out and running down her front and back. It was only then that she realized that parts of her sweatshirt, from top to bottom, were drenched in her blood.

"Episkey," she said, holding her wand to her wound. The two holes sealed up instantly, but to her dismay, the skin didn't seal back up to the point where there was no signs of a wound ever having happened. She tried the heal the wound again, but nothing came of it.

"Damn it," Iris said irritably, glaring at the Snitch hovering in front of her, which was observing her. "Bagman, you're buying me a new shoulder."

Iris put her jacket back on and got up from the floor. She looked around, trying to find another door, but saw none. She looked up, and saw another trapdoor on the ceiling, but with no way up there.

Then she noticed that it was right above where the first trapdoor was. She bent over the hole, and saw something that made her cringe. The ladder she had climbed up on was supposed to be pushed up to this room, to be used to get up to the next trapdoor. It had a little contraption that seemed to be there to help her slide the ladder up, amongst the little rollers. Only now, it was completely ruined.

She would have used a simple Mending Charm, had she known what in the world to visualize as she cast it. She tried anyway.

Nope, it was Levitation Charms then.

And a minute or two later, she had successfully built a rough staircase made of crates leading up to the trapdoor. As she stood on top of the highest crate, she noticed an engraving on the trapdoor.

Fluffy. Kill no more beyond this door.

So Fluffy was next. She doubted she could Summon her flute here, definitely not while she was underground. She had no idea if Fluffy was magically resistant. Most likely. Otherwise, Quirrell would have just hit him with a Stunner.

There was only one easy solution.

She hoped Fluffy liked cockatrice.

---

The Stands

Hermione was digging her own nails into her skin, her heart beating fast. Fleur was sitting next to her, still a bit shaken by what she had been forced to fight through during her turn. Madame Maxime had asked her to sit by her, but Fleur refused; she was outraged by how dangerous the first task was and the fact that she wouldn't even be in it if Madame Maxime hadn't tried so hard to get her to put her name in the Goblet didn't help matters. When Iris began commanding the snakes, Fleur noticed that the crowd grew uneasy.

A large part of the crowd laughed collectively when Iris blew the trapdoor up, laughed again when she nearly blew herself up, and laughed once more at Iris's disbelief at the fact she'd have to face a cockatrice.

If only she knew what was coming.

Fleur grimaced as Iris dodged another swipe of its tail. Her own cockatrice was just as dangerous, so she had resorted to using all the junk in the room to transfigure herself numerous tools. A large crate was turned into an iron cage. Chairs were strung together to eventually form a long iron chain, which she wrapped around the cockatrice. She wrapped one end of the chain to a bar of the cage, and began merging the two metals into one, thereby pulling the cockatrice slowly into the cage as the chain shortened from the merging. It was simply a case of sealing the cage from that point, and casting the occasional Wind Charm to blow away the cockatrice's toxic fumes.

She wouldn't dream of taking the creature clutching spears or — what was she doing with that tabletop?

The crowd watched in stunned silence as Iris fought the cockatrice single-handedly, as her plan eventually unfolded, and as Iris pushed it through the hole, killing it.

"My goodness!" Bagman exclaimed excitedly. "Miss Potter has just slain her cockatrice through physical means! Incredible! Oh-ho! Leave it up to Miss Potter to make a joke while bleeding to death!"

Fleur heard Hermione took a deep breath beside her.

"Buy her a new shoulder?" Bagman burst out laughing. "I must say, a sense of humor after a deadly experience such as that — let's hope Miss Potter stays alive to continue that sense of humor."

"Shut — up — Bagman," Hermione bit out.

"And what's she doing now? Is she Summoning — oh dear, she is! She's Summoning the cockatrice's body. Is she doing what I think she is?"

Fleur watched amusedly as Iris opened the second trap door and magically flung the cockatrice's body through it. After nothing happened, Iris climbed through herself, to find herself facing Fluffy, the three-headed dog, who was staring at her in a manner that he did not use for Fleur.

Fluffy had begun growling immediately when Fleur had entered that room. She had been forced to put the dog to sleep with a charm. With Iris, however, Fluffy almost seemed glad to see her.

"Hey Fluffy!" came Iris's voice from the screen. "Good to see you!"

Fleur's lips twitched. Of course she would have already met the dog. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hermione and Ron share a furtive glance. "I should not be surprised that she already knows this dog, should I?"

"I won't be surprised if she already knows the dragon," Hermione grumbled.

"I'm sure she will make it out of this okay."

"She's already gotten herself injured and she's only a sixth of the way through!" Hermione said, before she buried her face in her hands, peaking at the screen through her fingers.

Fluffy was absolutely delighted when Iris gave him the cockatrice's body — happily let Iris walk right on by and through the door leading to the beginning of the second sector.

"And Iris Potter has gained her first ten points for the task!" Bagman yelled and the crowd burst into applause as Iris walked into the second sector's arena; Fleur noticed some of the crowd clapping only politely. "It just goes to show how many problems can be fixed with some food. Speaking of, is there a waiter nearby?"

Hermione sent a fond smile at Ron, who was nodding along.

On the other side of the stands, Draco Malfoy was staring at the screen in dismay. He had just lost fifty galleons. He had stupidly bet that Potter wouldn't have gotten past the first sector without either dying or being forced to use her portkey to skip it. Several people had taken him up on his bet, and now he was fifty galleons poorer. Fifty galleons itself was nothing to him, but it was the fact that Potter that had done much better than he had expected that was worrying him.

He had also bet that Potter would come in last place. If she came in at least third place, he'd owe another two hundred galleons. If she came in at least second, he'd owe a hundred extra on top of the two hundred. And if she somehow came into first place, he'd owe an extra fifty galleons. That meant that if she won first place, he'd owe all the people that took a bet against him; around four hundred galleons. The possibility of Potter coming into first place was absurd, and yet, many Gryffindors had gladly taken on his bet.

The growing unease of Iris's use of Parseltongue didn't go unnoticed by Dumbledore either, and he was beginning to regret telling Iris that Parseltongue could be useful the night before. Apparently, the majority of people still found the ability evil.

No matter, it'll all blow over as these things usually do.

He watched as Iris was attacked and bit by one of the bats, how she kept a cool head and fought her way out without succumbing to fear. He wasn't sure if he should be proud, or hate the fact that one as young as her had gone through so much that this type of ordeal wasn't worth panicking about. Then again, who was he to complain? He was the one who set up the events leading to Iris confronting Quirrell. He really had no right to complain about fate if he had once been one to design it.

---

The Second Sector

It wasn't the Forbidden Forest, she was certain of that. It was much brighter, more green, and it had no foreboding sense of doom. Well, at least not in the same way the Forbidden Forest did. This was still part of the Triwizard Tournament.

The trees were scarce, leaving plenty of room for the dying sunlight to beam down and warm her skin; it felt wonderful, especially after the cold, damp, and dark cave. The trees were so scarce, in fact, that it left plenty of room for three hippogriffs to soar from above and onto the ground below, landing next to several other hippogriffs which Iris only just noticed.

She walked to them, slowly, carefully, her wand nowhere in sight. They watched her with cautious eyes. She bowed, again slowly, carefully, her eyes never blinking as she locked gazes with the hippogriff in front of her. She held the gaze for a few moments before the hippogriff bowed to her. Iris straightened up and held out her hand, hoping to be able to pet the hippogriff.

"It appears Miss Potter is trying to get friendly with the hippogriff! We only saw Miss Delacour try this before," Bagman's amplified voice said from the stands. Iris tuned him out.

The one in front of her took a few step towards Iris, and brushed its beak against her palm. Iris rubbed its beak and feathers, smiling softly. She wondered if —

There was a sudden screech and Iris whipped her head around. A hippogriff, on its hind legs, was coming down upon her — she used the beak of the hippogriff in front of her to push herself away. She felt a sharp pain on her upper arm as she rolled away. The friendly hippogriff backed away as Iris flicked her wand out into her hand and cast the Shield Charm to stop the other from charging at her again.

"Arietes Augue!" Iris said angrily, her elbow reaching back, and the hippogriff was engulfed in flames a second later, toppling backwards from the force of the spell. It screeched in pain and galloped away, jumping soon after into a large pond of water that Iris had not seen.

Iris scrambled to her feet and stood defiantly, glaring at the rest of the hippogriffs, daring each to just try; try as the last one did and see what happens. Most of them didn't seem to care that she had just set one of their own on fire, which surprised her. If they wanted to, they could all come at her at once, and she wouldn't stand a chance. She could portkey out, she supposed. Her portkey had updated to say, 'The Third Sector,' when she had taken her first step into the forest.

Iris looked at her left upper arm and saw it was bleeding slightly. It was a shallow cut, thankfully. With a murmured, "Episkey," the wound sealed up and the skin looked as though there was never a cut in the first place. She cast a spell to clear up the blood, and another to repair her torn jacket and sweatshirt.

She didn't think the area around the previously torn section would protect her anymore, but she was sure that it had when the hippogriff had attacked. Malfoy might have exaggerated the wound on the days after the attack, but she knew the hippogriff could have easily broken her arm like one had Malfoy's if she and Hermione hadn't charmed her clothing.

"Thank you, Hermione," Iris murmured. She looked up at the hippogriff she had petted. She tilted her head at it, wondering if the judges would stop her from doing this. It would be the best choice. She had no idea where she was supposed to go from here. Just straight on? Why not get a better vantage point? "What say you and I take to the skies?"

She moved towards the hippogriff, making sure not to make any sudden movements, and began petting the hippogriff once more.

"What do you say?"

The hippogriff looked at Iris for a moment longer, and then it lowered itself to the ground, letting Iris slide onto the back.

"Look at this!" Bagman shouted. "Miss Potter is going to ride a hippogriff, therefore bypassing some of the other obstacles! I'm not even sure if she's allowed to do this."

Iris stared at the Snitch in disbelief. Had Bagman really just told her she'd be capable of flying over them? She was just planning on seeing where she had to go, but if she could just fly over them…

She hopped on the hippogriff's back. "Let's go, beautiful."

The hippogriff gave a chirp, spread its wings, and lifted off. Iris was forced to duck as she came dangerously close to being knocked off by a heavy branch.

"And off she goes!" Bagman shouted in delight, bursting into chuckles after.

The two cleared the trees and soared above the treetops. Inigo stuck his little head out to feel the wind. Iris had a good look at everything from here. The forest she was in wasn't that large, but she reckoned it would still take her roughly five to ten minutes to make it out of there on foot.

It was then that she noticed where she was. She saw the cliff and the stadium from far above her. The entire time, she thought she was within the walls she saw, but she apparently wasn't. She wondered what those trees were for then, the ones inside the walls on top of that cliff, because they weren't the trees from the forest she was just in. She was still in some arena, however, as she could see the walls even down here.

Up ahead, beyond the forest, there was a stone bridge that crossed over a river. She thought she saw something near the water, but her hippogriff had suddenly snapped its head to the right. Iris looked in the same direction but saw nothing. She heard it though. A rushing sound, as though something large was flying quickly through the air. Was it another hippogriff?

She saw the shadow before its owner rammed into her and the hippogriff. The force pushed her wand out of her hand and it fell into the forest below. Iris didn't have time to look at what it was that was attacking them as she was too busy holding onto the hippogriff; she couldn't stop her fall now, not without her wand.

There were screeches coming from her hippogriff and the other beast, which Iris had now realized wasn't another hippogriff. hippogriffs didn't have wings that big. Her hippogriff whined in pain, and Iris realized they were falling slowly. The hippogriff tried fighting back, but whatever this thing was, it was larger and stronger. They twisted and maneuvered around each other in midair.

Iris swung her fist at this new creature. It did nothing. She wasn't sure what to do. The hippogriff spun in a spiral and Iris's legs repeatedly fell from the hippogriff only to crash back on. And then a great yellow beak nearly tore her throat out, and it would have hadn't Iris turned around to look for the thing attacking her.

She saw it clearly for the first time, just before her hippogriff crashed into the branches of a tree below. It looked like a hippogriff, but with a lion's body, and with larger wings. The hippogriff slammed into a large branch, sending Iris flying forward from the sudden stop in speed. She rammed through several small branches, one large one, and fell into a bush.

She groaned as many spots in her body ached in pain.

The griffin landed near her and the hippogriff. It didn't seem interested in the hippogriff however. It was looking around for her. She desperately wished she had snakes to help now. And then she realized.

She reached into her pocket, making sure to not make too much noise, and pulled Inigo out. He hissed at her.

"Enough!" Iris whispered furiously in Parseltongue. "Inigo, we'll both be dead if you don't listen. I need my wand. I don't know where it landed. I'll direct you in the general location. When you find it, send out flames into the air, okay? If I die, you'll be eaten. Get it?"

Inigo didn't do anything to make Iris think he had understood at all, but she set him down in the grass anyway, giving him a small push towards the direction she assumed her wand had fallen in. She desperately hoped it hadn't fallen into a tree. Could Inigo even fly?

Her thoughts were interrupted as the bush was suddenly smacked with a wing. Iris tumbled out of the bush, grabbing a branch as she rolled to her feet — she had it up for not even a second before a claw slapped it back down.

It landed on top of her foot and Iris kicked it right back into her hand as the griffin rose on its hind legs to attack one last time. The griffin faltered for a second, and it was enough. Iris positioned herself in front of the griffin, in a stance that would allow her to pull back the branch if the griffin tried to smack it down again, and also to be ready to ram the sharp branch into the griffin should it charge.

There was a moment of silence, where Iris and the griffin slowly circled each other. Iris realized she was at the top of a hill, at the very edge of it. She knew she couldn't win this fight.

Iris dug into her pocket and pulled out the strip of leather. That second of movement was a mistake — the griffin lunged at her — Iris grasped the branch with both hands and held it in front of her, positioning it to stop both strikes. The griffin's claws slammed into it — the branch shattered, sending several splinters into her hands — Iris felt an excruciating pain across her thigh and she couldn't hold back the cry of pain.

She tripped backwards, one bloodied hand clutching her thigh and other the portkey, and she tumbled down the hill, each roll becoming more painful than the last. She crashed onto flat ground with a gasp, most of the air in her lungs having been knocked out as she hit the ground chest first.

She turned on her back, still clutching the leather portkey. The griffin was nearly upon her; it was sprinting down the hill now — it would soon leap and land on her, its claws likely digging deep into her chest. She'd be dead in a few seconds if she didn't use the portkey. They was no other choice. She'd have to lose the points. She sent a pulse of magic into the portkey with her fingers —

Then she had a sudden and very stupid idea, one that might cost her the points anyway, one that might not even work, one that might forfeit her last chance at surviving.

The magic in the portkey was still at work, she could feel it.

The griffin was near now, only a dozen or so meters away, so close, so ready to kill her.

With a great effort, and not without any pain, she lifted herself on one elbow —

The griffin was leaping now.

She pulled back her other arm, the one with the portkey, her fingers still sending pulses of magic into it — and she hurled it. "The Third Sector!" Iris cried out.

The griffin was descending now, its claws only feet away from her torso. There was a small distortion in the air, a fracture of time and space, and the griffin was gone.

Iris only vaguely heard the audience's screaming, and Bagman's frantic yelling. She let herself rest back against the dirt, breathing heavily. She couldn't believe it had work. She couldn't believe she had even tried it in the first place! What was she thinking? She might lose points for it anyway.

The Snitch flew in front of her, trying to get a better look at her no doubt, perhaps to even see if she was still alive. Iris certainly felt dead.

"Bagman?" she asked quietly.

There was a moment of silence before Bagman's booming voice replied, "Yes, Miss Potter?"

"Since I didn't go with the portkey, that means I don't lose my points, right?"

Iris heard distant laughter and the amplified laughter of Bagman. "No, Miss Potter, you technically did not use the portkey yourself, so your points remain."

Iris smiled weakly. The adrenaline was starting to slowly fade away, and the pain was coming back in full force. She was fairly certain she had not broken any bones, and that was good. A broken bone meant that she was likely out of the task. No amount of Dittany would fix that. Her entire body still hurt though, and that, at the moment at least, really wasn't much of a difference when it came to continuing or not continuing the task. She'd rather lay down and sleep.

She looked down to her left thigh and saw far too much blood.

"Miss Potter, say the word and we'll send someone in to —"

"No," Iris interrupted. "Half of that damn stadium thinks I'm going to die or come in last place. I want to see their faces when I end up in the first place," she whispered.

There was another moment of silence.

"Very well," Bagman said. There was an undertone to Bagman's voice that made Iris think that Bagman was trying very hard to not cheer at Iris's words. She guessed that he had likely bet on her himself, and that coming in first place would be very rewarding for him indeed.

Iris closed her eyes. The cuts on her thigh were beginning to become nearly excruciating now that the adrenaline was dying down. She saw the grass around her soaking with blood. She reached into her sleeve and slowly removed the Essence of Dittany from her wand holster, the numerous splinters in her hand making even that process painful.

"It seems as though Miss Potter has some Essence of Dittany with her," Bagman said, and Iris could hear the sly smile in his voice.

She looked down to the wound. It wasn't a wound. It was three wounds. Three of the griffin's talons had made its mark. The sight of the bloody mess increased the pain, and Iris had to grit her teeth to not whimper. She wouldn't. She had let out a cry of pain when it happened, but no more. Not while everybody was watching. She wouldn't make a noise, no matter how much the middle gash, the deepest one, made her want to.

She tore apart the fabric around the cuts, leaving a large hole in side of her trousers, and she began letting drips of the potion fall onto all three cuts. Her arm ached as it moved, and her hands burned with the splinters dug within the skin. She could deal with that later. She had already lost too much blood. The griffin's cuts were more serious.

The cut above her knee was thankfully shallow enough that the potion made it close up instantly, leaving only the faintest of scars. The gash in the middle of her thigh was deep and disgusting. She didn't think it was deep enough that she could reach the bone with a finger, not unless she really pushed in, but it bled profusely, drenching her entire leg in blood. Iris had to pour the majority of her potion on it to get it to close. The healing process was agonizing and she closed her eyes to stop the tears of pain from leaking out.

She only opened her eyes after a moment and she saw the skin slowly knitting itself together. She let out a deep breath through her nose. She used the remainder of her Essence of Dittany on the slash on her upper thigh, which wasn't shallow, but still not as deep as the middle one.

As the upper cut was healing, Iris looked over the other two. The lowest one remained faint enough that Iris had some hope it wouldn't be noticed if one didn't look close. The middle one had healed fully now, and Iris looked on in disgust at the scar. Tough looking? Sure, but it wasn't pretty. It wasn't cool. It already looked days old, and it was ugly.

Iris rose to her feet slowly, tossing the empty vial aside. Dull aching pains sprung up over her entire body. It wasn't a surprise, really. She had hurtled through several branches and had also tumbled down a hill. Was she really expecting that the damage was all gone now that she had used some Essence of Dittany?

She began to walk back up the hill, little by little, thinking of getting her wand, each step causing pain to shoot up both of her legs, and especially in her thigh. Though the cuts were sealed, they still stung.

It was five slow minutes later when she finally came upon her wand. She had walked up the hill to see a burst of fire erupting from the grass in the distance. There, where the fire had come from, she found Inigo, lying on his back, his wings spread lazily, spewing fire every couple of seconds. He tilted his head when she appeared over him and let out a small squeak of what must have been pride, for there, right next to him, was her wand.

"Before one of you complains," Iris said, picking up her wand and looking directly at the Snitch, "a pet dragon was not on the list of forbidden items."

Iris scooped up Inigo, petted him with a single finger, and placed him back in her pocket with a hissed, "Thank you."

"Besides, I would have found the wand without Inigo anyway," Iris continued. "So unless you wished to watch me search the grass for half an hour, or you believe the true challenge of the Triwizard Tournament is to stare at the ground, don't bother complaining about Inigo helping me."

It took a moment, a moment in which Iris began walking back towards the direction she believed the bridge and river to be, but eventually Bagman said, "No points will be taken from Miss Potter as she has, once again, not broken any rules, technically."

Iris sat back down and began healing all her bruises. "Episkey," she repeated at every bruise she could find on her body. It was a minute or two later when she finally felt she was ready to continue the task. She didn't care if the audience had gotten bored, simply watching her heal herself. They weren't the ones that were nearly killed by a rampaging griffin.

She was still a little surprised that she wasn't dead or at least dying. Many wizards and witches who go up against a griffin usually don't stand much of a chance, and that's with their wands. It wasn't exactly as though she had done any damage to the griffin, but she had lived, hadn't she? Now that she had time to think about it, she was getting a bit angry. They set a griffin on her. The cockatrice wasn't enough? What the hell else would she go up against? A manticore? She'd leave the damn planet if they made her battle a manticore.

She ignored Bagman's commentary as she neared the edge of the forest, but she couldn't ignore the strange sound coming from behind her. It sounded like moaning and creaking wood. She turned around. Though there was no longer any light to be seen through the treetops, she saw the trees still, and it was likely what she was supposed to see, for a few of the trees were walking towards her.

Animated trees? Really?

"No," Iris said, shaking her head resolutely. "I'm so done with all of this. Igneum Perpetua!"

The walking trees were quickly engulfed in flames and Iris set the nearby trees and grass on fire as well, just for good measure. She turned around and continued walking towards the end of the forest, casually, as if there wasn't a raging fire just behind her.

A single remark from Bagman slipped into her ears, pleasing her greatly. "And Iris Potter continues to leave a wake of destruction behind her!"

Iris snorted. A bit of an exaggeration, wasn't it? She glanced back at the blazing forest. The sun had dipped well below the horizon now, but the orange glow of a sunset remained, and it was due to the inferno, which was spreading far quicker than Iris had expected. Would she lose points if the fire killed a hippogriff? Surely they would flee from the fire.

She turned her back to it and continued forward. It was all so stupid. The other three got to complete their task in the daylight. She'd have to do hers under the darkness? She doubted the others cared. Iris Potter, the Girl-Who-Lived, fighting to the death as a great forest fire lit up the night sky behind her. It was certainly dramatic enough to make the front page of the Daily Prophet.

There was a loud bellow of pain from behind her. Iris turned around and saw a large shape emerge from the forest, howling as it tried to put out the flames that licked up the majority of its body. Apparently there had been a troll in the forest.

She couldn't kill it. She wasn't sure if the fire would eventually do it for her. Sighing, she lifted her wand and said, "Lumos Maxima." She flicked her wand in the direction of the opposite bank of the river, hoping the ball of light would be stopped there instead of continuing past the river.

The river was illuminated by her spell and she crouched down, hoping the darkness would hide her, as what she now knew to be a forest troll stomped its way to the water, no doubt hoping for some instant relief.

And then the bridge burst into pieces.

There was a roar of anger as another troll made its way from the river onto land. Its skin was purple and incredibly droopy, and its stomach actually hung below its own knees. It was an unpleasant sight, but Iris didn't have time to dwell on it. The river troll had begun grabbing pieces of the stone bridge and throwing them at the flaming forest troll.

Then there was a cacophony of screeching and piercing cries, and a group of flying hippogriffs swooped down from the sky, landing on the bank of the river.

The griffin Iris had portkeyed away flew from above the forest too. It had apparently gone right back into the forest after being transported to the third sector. Iris realized she had forgotten about the portkey.

"Accio Portkey," Iris whispered as she watched the carnage unfold in front of her. The forest troll had put out the fire and was now wrestling the river troll. The griffin was looking ready to attack several hippogriffs at once, but neither side seemed to want to make the first strike.

The portkey hit her arm and Iris caught it before it hit the ground. She stuffed it into her pocket. There was a thud, one awfully close to her. It couldn't have been either of the two trolls, as they were both in the water, and their steps were muffled by it.

There were more thuds now and they were rapid. Whatever it was, it was clearly running, and in her direction. Iris turned around and saw a mountain troll charging directly at her.

"This feels like a reenactment of my last three years at Hogwarts," Iris said as she stood up, and aimed her wand at the mountain troll — she only had a few moments. The troll had a club, like the one in her first year carried, but at its running speed, she had no hopes of levitating it and dropping it on its head.

"Accio Club. Incarcerous!"

The club was wrenched from the troll's hand and it flew towards Iris. The ropes, however, did not come from the tip of her wand. She wasn't surprised. It was N.E.W.T. level spellwork and she still hadn't been able to perform it. The troll slowed down, confused by the fact it was missing its club.

She sidestepped the now sliding club, and was forced to form up a new plan on the spot. "Accio Club!" she said again, and the club flew back towards her. This time, as she sidestepped it once more, she cast another spell: "Ventus Vehemens!"

To her dismay, the club barely gained any speed. Despite its power, the club was still too heavy for the Wind Charm, which was mostly designed to blow away numerous small objects. The troll had already begun running again. It picked up its club on the way and swung it at Iris — she flattened herself against the ground as the air just above her hair whooshed.

She flipped on her back. "Vexo Oculorum!" Miraculously, for she did not expect her aim to be true, the Conjunctivitis Curse struck one of the troll's eyes; Iris was already rolling to avoid a swing from the club when she realized she had been successful. She fired off another Conjunctivitis Curse in hopes of getting the other eye, but it missed, for the troll was jumping about as though doing so would fix its eye. Iris cast one more, and this time, she was successful.

With the troll blinded, she leapt to her feet, firing off two Expulso Curses. She knew it wouldn't wound the troll, but it certainly pushed it back. Iris jumped backwards as she cast the two spells, and when she was certain she was far enough, she tried her previous plan again.

"Accio Club!" The club flew from the troll's hands and almost barrelled into her. She Summoned the club again once it settled onto the ground behind her. It flew at her once more, and this time, she cast a spell designed to push objects away from her, regardless of their weight, within reason of course: "Depulso!"

With the momentum of the Summoning Charm, combined with the Banishing Charm, the club was sent into the troll's legs at great speed. There was a loud, sickening CRACK, and the troll collapsed on its own two legs, howling with pain.

Iris was so fed up with the entire task that she didn't spare the troll another glance, no matter how much it was wailing. She looked to the others. The hippogriffs were beginning to flee and the griffin was nowhere in sight. Iris Summoned the club again, and with another Banishing Charm, she sent it at the wrestling trolls.

It thumped the river troll in the back of the head, and it fell face first into the bank of the river. The forest troll looked around, confused. The only thing it saw was a jet of fire heading straight for it. Iris could have sworn she heard it yelp as it dove into the water, swam to the opposite bank, and ran to the trees that weren't on fire.

"Trolls, three-headed dogs, deadly plants, moving trees, large spiders — only a matter of time before a basilisk and dementors show up, really," Iris said.

"M-m-my goodness!" Bagman stuttered in his loud voice. "Did you see — was I the only — you all just saw this, right? Absolute chaos! Miss Potter is definitely entertaining! Iris Potter wins another fifteen points, leaving her with a total of thirty-five! I must say, I —"

Iris ignored the rest. She was slowly transfiguring the rubble from the bridge into a wooden raft. She was just about to hop on it when she came to the conclusion that she might find a dangerous creature or two inside the water itself. She spent another minute improving her raft, enlarging it, building up walls, reinforcing everything she could. It was shoddy work, if she was honest with herself, but it would do.

She pushed the wooden boat into the river and jumped in. The boat was swept down the river instantly by the fast currents.

It was as she was travelling down the river when the question, 'Where had the griffin gone?' was answered. This time, Iris had her wand. It was a simple, "Arietes Augue," and the griffin was hit with the full force of the spell. It spiraled down into the water.

"Not so challenging now, are you?" Iris muttered irritably as the griffin was swept up by the currents. Its struggle slowed it down, and Iris's boat was able to be pulled much quicker along the river.

Iris was exhausted by this point. She used the trip down the river as time to rest. It didn't last very long, because soon Bagman's booming voice interrupted her.

"Miss Potter is coming upon the fourth sector now. Will her boat hold?"

Iris laughed quietly. Bagman wasn't the smartest, was he? He had practically just confirmed that the fourth sector would hold an underwater creature. Iris sat up in her boat and realized she wasn't sure how she was going to stop the current from carrying her into the small lake that she could now see further down. She knew there were spells to freeze water, but she hadn't learned any strong enough to freeze an entire river, much less one with strong waters. She wasn't the best at conjuration either, so shooting a rope to pull herself to —

She nearly slapped herself. She was being incredibly stupid. She didn't need to conjure any.

She broke off a piece of the boat's wooden wall and began transfiguring it into rope, muttering the incantation under her breath as she did so. When she thought the rope was long enough, she tied one end to the newly transfigured hook in the center of the boat, and then Summoned a rock from the water below. She quickly molded it to resemble a treble hook with a few more muttered spells, tied it to the rope, and used a Banishing Charm on the hook.

It flew from her boat and landed in a fallen tree, easily hooking onto one of the branches. The boat was easily brought to the lakeshore with Iris tugging on the rope. She hopped out and began to walk around the lake, keeping a careful distance from the water as she did so. She noticed the small island in the center of the lake, and she used the Wind Charm to disturb the water, hoping to see what was under.

She wasn't disappointed.

A large serpentine head rose from the water, horned, black, and with a jewel centered on its forehead. It rose with its scaly neck until it towered over Iris, whose eyebrows shot to her hairline. They went so far as to get a horned serpent? She was sure she had read that they weren't native to the waters of the United Kingdom.

"I suppose you'll do for a basilisk," Iris said amusedly.

"I am not a basilisk," the serpent hissed.

"That's good," Iris said in Parseltongue, unfazed. This might have also been what Dumbledore was talking about in regards to Parseltongue being useful. "Because if you were, I'd have to kill you. What say you give me a ride to that isle there?"

The serpent waited a moment before replying. "You speak my tongue. I've never met a human that did, though I had always wondered what it would be like."

"Er — seems Miss Potter is speaking to the serpent," Bagman said uneasily. Iris had to hold back the sigh of frustration at Bagman's behavior.

"Well, here I am, one tired, pissed off, wand-wielding speaker of serpents." Iris began pacing nearer to the water, daring the serpent to try something, almost hoping. Vehemently, she hissed out, "I've fought wizards capable of turning your lake into a sea of fire. I've slain basilisks hungry enough to swallow you whole. I've battled trolls large enough to have you for dinner."

Iris paused.

"I've also spent hours conversing with a sphinx. I've been protected by centaurs. I've had aid in the form of not one, but two phoenixes. I've a pet dragon in my pocket right now." Iris stopped pacing, and she levelled her stare at the serpent, the question hanging in the air, unspoken.

The serpent lowered itself into the water, only its head still hovering in the chilly air. Iris was sure she could see something in its eyes, a challenge almost, and she felt she knew what was going to happen next —

The serpent lunged at Iris, its mouth closed however, and she forced herself to stand still, to not flinch. The crowd above gasped, but the serpent stopped feet from her face. Iris raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"I believe," the serpent said, pausing for a moment, almost dramatically, "that I'd like to belong to your second category."

Iris smiled. "Do me a favour then, and take me to the isle in the center."

"Only if you truly prove you are capable of being a challenge."

"Oh?" Iris said, "and how would I do that?"

"Your kind will likely take me back to my confinement tomorrow, a place where I do not have much, where I cannot feel free enough."

"You want me to get you to the bloody ocean? There's no way —"

"You misunderstand me," the serpent said. "There is another lake here, is there not?"

"How do you know?"

"I can sense it. I want something of yours, something you value, so I know I can trust you. If you accept and don't follow through, I will keep it."

Iris nodded. It was a reasonable request. She had no idea on how she would get past this creature otherwise. It would easily tear apart any boat. It would easily tear her apart. She didn't know any spells to turn the water into ice, not at this size anyway. She wondered if…

"Accio Firebolt," she said, pointing her wand casually at where Hogwarts would be, as she couldn't see it from where she was. She wasn't sure if it would work, at least not at this distance. Even up at the stadium, where the dragon would be, it would have to take the utmost concentration. Maybe if she spent a little more time practicing the Summoning Charm instead of so much time on the shield for dragonfire…

Iris ignored the serpent's questions about what she was doing as she listened for the rushing sound of her Firebolt speeding towards her.

"Miss Potter," Bagman's voice came, "the first five sectors have been charmed to not allow any Summoning Charms to bring in anything from outside of the arena."

Iris cursed, then turned to the serpent. She dug out Inigo from her pocket. "This is the pet dragon I spoke of before. If I leave him with you, will it be enough? Will you keep him safe until I return for you in the night? Inigo, can you stay with… this serpent —"

"Nerissa," the serpent said silkily.

"Will you stay with Nerissa here for a couple of hours?"

Inigo let out an angry, but adorable small roar.

"Fine, you can stay with me. Come, let's go battle a giant dragon large enough to swallow a thousand of you as an appetizer," Iris hissed out, starting to feel more irritated.

Inigo took one look at Iris before leaping out of her hands and slowly gliding to Nerissa's head, landing on top of her. Nerissa looked up at the dragon, and she almost looked amused before she slid close to the shore to let Iris climb on her back.

Iris did so, and a few moments later, she was standing on the isle in the center of the lake. "I'll come before sunset… hopefully."

"See that you do, Vanquisher of Dark Wizards, Slayer of Basilisks, Battler of Trolls —"

"Really?"

"— Converser of Sphinxes, The One Dependent of Centaurs, Companion of Phoenixes, and Pet Dragon Handler."

"Are you done?" Iris asked impatiently.

"You're the one who insisted on being dramatic with your accomplishments," Nerissa said, and she flicked her tail at the water, drenching Iris completely, before swimming away, Inigo lying on her head.

Muttering to herself, Iris looked to the pedestal in the center of the isle, and saw that it had a small, black, torn cloak on it. "And this is where we complete the set. Dementors."

She touched the cloak — there was a tug from behind her navel — and she was plucked away from the isle.

She felt the cold settling deep within her bones before she even hit the ground.

Her chest was the first part to hit the ground. All of her breath suddenly vanished.

She gasped, but no air came. She lifted her wand, but couldn't breathe the words.

"Eh — Expec —" But the words died on her lips. Why now? Why did magical travel have to do this to her, especially now?

Black cloaks swirled around her. A flying Snitch, colored differently, floated above it all. Withered hands reached down for her. Surely they weren't going to Kiss her? They must have told them not to go that far, but Dumbledore had once told her dementors won't listen. Maybe —

She heard a man's voice, yelling at his wife to take her and go, to disappear. There was a woman begging, and a high-pitched laughter too. It was too vague, too blurry to make it all out, but she saw flowing red hair, a cloaked man with red eyes, and death —

She was in a torch-lit room now, and a man with a turban flicked his wand at her. She lifted from the ground and her shoulder hit a wall, hard, and she was sure something has cracked beneath her skin. Quirrell flicked his wand again, and again she flew through the air. Again, and again he did it, until she could barely keep herself upright. Everything hurt. He was coming closer now. He was reaching for her. He was screaming now. The pieces fell together and she used the last of her strength to jump at him. She was watching a man turn to ash in front of her, and she heard her name now, and the silver beard swung in front of her pale, pained face —

A silent tear rolled down her cheek. Her hand was wrapped around Hermione's stony one. She shouldn't have told Hermione she'd follow her from the library in just a minute. She should have stayed. She remembered walking out of the library only to find Hermione's stony body. She wrapped her hand around Hermione's tighter now, and she felt something, a piece of parchment —

Hermione had been right. She should have studied more. Much more. She should have learned more. She was stuck repeating the same spells, over and over, as the acromantulas came down upon her and Ron. She couldn't believe this was how she was to die, and she had led Ron here too, a place where his worst fear scuttled after him, their numbers in the dozens. There was some kind of growl, a bright flash of light — no, two lights, a pained squeal as an acromantula flew by her, and then the car that had flew to Hogwarts in was —

White-hot flames was flicking at her insides. No, it was anger. How dare he come back here, to her home? How dare Voldemort show his face here again? She dodged the basilisk again. How dare this oversized worm hurt Hermione? It didn't matter that Hermione would be fine soon, that she wasn't really hurt — all that mattered was that these two deserved to die for the suffering they put people through. The basilisk lunged again, and then it was dead, and she — she was dying too. Her veins blackened, she made her way to Ginny, slowly, barely holding herself together. She was waking now, and maybe this was her end, maybe her story stopped here, but Ginny was safe, and her family would be —

No, there was Hagrid now. He was telling her she was a witch, and she felt offended that he thought so. Was she really that ugly? Surely not, the giant must be joking. But he was not, and her world changed forever —

She was making her first friend on a train. A red-haired boy. Her very first friend, outside of Hagrid and Hedwig. The compartment door slid open —

She had awoken from her sleep, had opened the doors to the infirmary, and Hermione Granger flew into her arms, eyes full of tears. She saw Ron behind her, and he beamed at her. Everything was okay. All was —

Hermione Granger stood at the entrance of the Great Hall, her eyes scanning all the heads that had turned to look at her. Iris was on her feet before she knew what she was doing, and now she was sprinting — she knocked both herself and Hermione over in her hug. Ron laughed behind her and she was sure she'd burst with happiness —

And now she was in Slytherin's Chambers, which was usually chilly, but the roaring fire made it all nice and comfy. Hermione was reading a book, and she looked healthier than ever. There was no worry around her eyes like there had been after her best friend's name had been selected by the Goblet of Fire.

Ron sat in a chair playing chess with Ginny; the twins sat together experimenting on each other; Aberforth and Albus Dumbledore sat a table, discussing something that she could not hear, but it was a friendly discussion; Sirius was curled up on her feet, warming them, as Padfoot; Fleur Delacour's hands ran through her hair, and she closed her eyes to the touch.

Her eyes snapped open. That one had not been real, but it was enough.

"Expecto Patronum," Iris whispered with the little oxygen she had, and the silvery doe burst from her wand in an explosion of light and happiness. The withered hands retreated, their owners making a strangled, dying rasping sound, and a great, dark weight was lifted off of her shoulders.

Her senses came back to her. And though a bit embarrassed about her own shallowness concerning Fleur, she pushed more into the Patronus and the doe grew brighter, the dementors fleeing further. She barely heard Bagman's shouts of incredulity. He was being dramatic; he had seen her produce one before.

She was already running. She had hardly taken in her surroundings, but now she could see she was definitely in an abandoned building. She wouldn't have been surprised if this was where the dementors lived, what with the utter darkness of the place, the feeling of decay and death, the sense of suffocating it gave her even with her Patronus protecting her.

She ran.

The doe gave off light as it ran forward, commanded by Iris to guide her. She was in a very long hallway, and the walls which had started far apart seemed to be closing in around her.

She ran faster.

The walls were closing in on around her. The hall was getting thinner. The floor was on a slope downwards. She felt dizzy.

She still ran, as fast as her worn legs could carry her.

The doe stopped then. It was a dead end. Iris nearly cursed herself for wasting so much time — how much time had she even spent lying on the ground back there? Likely more than a minute, surely. But then she saw a small leather strip on a small table by the wall, with the engraving, 'The Final Sector.'

She snatched it and quickly said the words. She felt her link to her Patronus vanish, and before the dementors could descend on her again, she did the same.

---

The Stands

"Incredible! Miss Potter is the first champion to get past the dementors in under a minute, the only to not lose points in the fifth sector! Wonderful!" Bagman exclaimed happily. Iris Potter had a total of fifty points now! He didn't care if she lost both her legs going up against the dragon, he'd be giving her full marks. He grinned obnoxiously at the goblins. They flashed their pointy teeth at him.

Bagman had to stop himself from jumping up and down in his seat. People had told him he was a fool for betting so much on Iris, that the rumors of her achievements were just that: rumors. Well, they would be in for quite the surprise, wouldn't they?

Cassius Warrington tilted his head at the screen, only slightly, curiously. He had figured that with so many rumors going around the school, at the end of every year, with Potter being in the infirmary consistently, that at least one of the rumors had to be true. One might think that she was used to fighting for her life. Perhaps Rita Skeeter was telling the truth for once. He had to admit that she had far more resourcefulness than he had expected. Maybe the sorting hat did want Potter in Slytherin.

Viktor Krum wasn't all that upset at Potter, but he had felt a twisted sense of satisfaction in denying her apology. That fall down the stairs had really hurt. He knew that the mild dislike between the two could escalate if he wasn't careful. He knew that if she beat his score, he'd be more than a little bitter. He knew that with the fifty points she had now, she was likely to beat his score unless she gave up the rest of the task. Maybe dragons would be her downfall.

Fleur had scowled when the crowd had begun murmuring again as Iris spoke to the horned serpent. She looked over to Rita Skeeter and saw her scribbling away with an almost maniacal look in her eyes. Fleur looked on with disgust. Iris was likely to face a lot of bigotry for this. And then Iris had overcome the dementors with relative ease.

That had stung more than a little. She tried to push her hurt pride aside, but she couldn't. She had been raised to be prideful, and it was only her exasperation with the world, when she had decided she was done worrying about silly things, that stopped her from becoming a haughty, conceited epitome of a spoiled little bitch, like Iris had said; not that she hadn't been exactly that at times.

---

The Final Sector

Iris fell onto the ground, but thankfully did not lose her breath this time. She got up instantly, not wanting to be fried by a dragon. She was in another tent now. It wasn't as big but it was still a nice size. There was no Snitch in sight.

"Miss Potter, please step out into the arena when you feel you are ready."

Iris sure wasn't going to wait. She took out her small vial of firewhisky, uncorked it, and drank it all at once. It was the same as before. Her fears washed away and she felt ready. Nothing could stop her. She hadn't lost a single point so far. She'd get full marks here too, surely. A full hundred out of hundred points. What could she do to get that?

Fight the dragon with her bare hands, naturally.

No, no, that would be too much. Iris laughed to herself. If firewhisky made her think this way all the time, she'd likely become an alcoholic soon.

The dangerous thoughts died out fairly quickly, but the calmed nerves remained. She was ready to end this. She stepped through the exit of the tent.

In front of her, a few hundred feet away from her, was the Hungarian Horntail. Blacker than the night sky, and with spikes protruding from its tail, its head, and many other places. The crowd around her cheered. The stadium was enormous. Hundreds, if not thousands, were here. And the arena was large enough so that none of a dragon's fire would be able to reach the audience, what with the dragon being shackled down. That might make things easier.

The walls to the enclosure had many torches on them, but the light didn't even get close to helping her see the entire enclosure clearly. Still, it was enough, she supposed.

A Snitch appeared next to her. Iris looked up and saw two large screens above the two longest sides of the stadium, and she saw herself from the Snitch's perspective. It was a bit bizarre.

Iris walked slowly to the dragon. All her plans, plan A, plan B, plan C, plan D, all of them seemed to vanish from her thoughts as she stared at this enormous creature. She was right; before, when she thought of how much more terrifying it would look when she was so close to it, she was definitely right.

But enough about that. She had a job to do here. Hundreds were watching her. They wouldn't be able to say anything negative about her after this —

But first, she'd try something.

"Hey there!" Iris hissed loudly in Parseltongue. The dragon's eyes narrowed. "Say, you mind if I have that golden egg there? You see, it's not actually yours. These fools, these humans, they only want to watch the two of us battle for entertainment. I'd rather not give it to them. The golden egg is fake. Don't play to their demands. Let us show them we are not under their control."

Iris had to jump backwards as a quick stream of dragonfire came to stop just feet from her. The fire illuminated the dark arena.

"There's no need to curse at me," Iris joked, and the dragon breathed more fire at her, but it couldn't reach her. "Right then. Accio Firebolt! Accio Fire Protection Potion! Accio Hermione's Runic Shield!" It took the utmost concentration, but she could feel the spell working. She moved on, keeping the Summoning Charm at the back of her mind.

Abandoning any thoughts of embarrassment at what could make her happy, she visualized: Fleur's fingers were combing her hair, and her head was on Fleur's lap. Hermione sat by, and —

That was enough. Iris waved her wand in a small, loose circle, and said, "Expecto Patronum!" Her silver doe burst from her wand once more, ready to do what Iris needed. She mentally commanded it to stick by her until she was ready for it to be of use. She considered Summoning her cloak, but she wasn't sure if it would survive against a dragon's fire. She didn't feel right risking something of her father's.

She heard the rushing sound of something travelling through the wind, and she looked up to see her three objects speeding towards her. The broom came to rest next to her in midair; the potion flew into her hand; the large circular shield impaled itself into the ground, directly where Iris had been standing a moment before — and here she was, thinking she had completely mastered the Summoning Charm.

Iris opened the potion, ignoring Bagman's excited shouts, and drank it all. It was almost instant: she felt as though she had swallowed the coldest water imaginable. Her very veins felt like they had turned to ice for just a moment. Iris shook the effects off, and grabbed the shield, pulling hard to remove it from the ground.

"Is Miss Potter going to use a shield against a dragon?!" Bagman exclaimed wildly. Iris felt her Patronus diminishing slowly, and she forced Bagman's voice out of her head, and filled it with happy thoughts instead. She put her attention back to the shield.

It was an iron, circular shield, one with gold and silver inlays. It was absolutely saturated with magic, and Iris could feel it as she slapped the handle-side to her back; the runic Sticking Charm Professor Babbling had applied caused the shield to instantly stick. Professor Babbling had applied much more than Sticking Charms as well, as requested by Hermione, because even Hermione was beat in regards to charming a shield to stop a dragon's hit.

Unfortunately, Professor Babbling had limited time in her work, leaving the shield only capable of taking a single physical blow from something with the strength of a dragon. Even with Professor Babbling's limited work on it, Iris could see the many complicated runes spread across the surface of the shield.

The shield wouldn't simply not break, but it would absorb a heavy blow, and push the force into the outer segments of the shield, causing those parts to break off forcefully. Iris herself wouldn't absorb the hit, at least not much. The idea had come to her when she thought back to the basilisk fight. She had used a physical object to defeat it there, so if the Dragonfire Shield Charm did not work, she'd have a physical object here to help her too. It wasn't something most wizards would have thought of, using such Muggle methods.

And having fought the cockatrice with spears, she was much less opposed to using a shield now than she was before the task started.

Up in the stands, Professor Babbling raised her eyebrows and looked towards Hermione, who refused to meet her eyes.

The potion was working; the shield was on her back, ready to take a hit from the dragon if needed; and Iris was now on her broom, ready to outfly a dragon. She pointed her wand at her hair, said, "Crinis Texo," and her hair began braiding itself. A moment later, she had one long black braid trailing down her back. She tucked it beneath the shield.

Turn the broom into a sword and I'd look almost like a viking, Iris thought to herself.

"By the gods! A shield and a broom! This might be the most interesting one yet!" Bagman said, and to Iris's surprise, the crowd cheered very loudly. But perhaps some of the cheers were simply because they were hoping she'd soon be dragon food.

She kicked her feet off the ground and forced her broom upwards. She was up in the air, at least fifty feet up, the wind sweeping through air, the dragon still large, and then she was a hundred feet in the air. Her nerves settled as the feeling of complete freedom washed over her. This wasn't quite like another Quidditch game, but it was close enough.

She looked down at the ground below and saw her Patronus was still there. It was just a small thought, but with it, the doe ran into the air and directly at the dragon's head. Iris dived downwards. Her hair came from under the shield, trailing in the air behind her as she raced towards the egg.

The dragon went to bite at the Patronus.

Iris was getting close now. Was she going to grab the egg this quickly? Was it to be this easy? She flattened herself on her broom. She'd have to slow down before she reached the egg, to not break all her fingers, but —

She swerved suddenly as the dragon's spiked tail nearly turned her to mush. The tail missed her by mere feet. She turned on her broom and was forced to pull back instantly as the enormous jaws nearly bit her in half. The crowd screamed.

Iris had misjudged how far up the dragon could reach.

The Patronus was still attempting to get its attention, but it was no longer working. The Hungarian Horntail was ignoring it now. Iris let go of the mental focus for it, and the doe vanished.

Iris took a deep breath and sped around the dragon, forcing it whirl around completely, then she took a sharp turn and dived again, this time hoping she could fly right by the side of the dragon. A burst of hot fire filled the space she was in mere milliseconds before — but now she was speeding amongst its neck, ducking under its wing, and the tail was coming up again — she dodged it on her broom successfully.

The egg was right there.

She reached her hand out — fire engulfed the area where the eggs lay — Iris took one of the sharpest turns she had ever taken in her life — she felt her muscles tighten painfully as the broom turned. She was forced to, otherwise she would have flown directly into the fire. Even a quick fly-through would have likely hurt and maybe even damaged her skin. It wasn't until after that she realized it likely wouldn't, not with the potion she had drank.

She turned around on her broom again, foolishly thinking she was far enough — but she wasn't. She only had a second to attempt to shoot out of the way of another swipe from the tail. An unspiked part of the tail slammed into her, her shield, and her broom. She desperately clutched her broom as the force of the hit sent her flying back, and she faintly heard the crowd scream in terror over the rush of wind.

She gripped the broom and attempted to slow herself down, but it wasn't working as it should —

Something hard slammed into her back — or did she slam into it? She slid down the wall of the enclosure, clutching the broom and trying to get back on it. But again, something wasn't right. Iris opened her eyes fully and looked down. It was with a pang of guilt, sorrow, and anger that Iris saw her precious Firebolt was snapped in the middle, barely held together with the smallest piece of wood.

She slid the rest of the way down the enclosure's wall, staring in anguish at the broom as it slowed her descent down. The Hungarian Horntail's bellow brought her out of her numb disconnection of what she was seeing. Her eyes snapped to the dragon, and she felt an anger she hadn't felt in a long time, not since she had confronted Sirius in the shrieking shack all those months ago.

She leapt to her feet, ignoring the aching in her side. "Vexo Oculorum!" Iris roared, pointing her wand at the dragon's eyes. She was only going to use one. Bagman had told them they weren't to smash any of the eggs, and a completely blind dragon just wouldn't do.

The spell hit the dragon in its left eye and it roared in anger as the eye was swelled shut. Iris was already running towards it by that point. Distantly, she heard the crowd and Bagman panicking, and she was sure Hermione's scream was in there somewhere.

She didn't care. She was finishing this task right now.

The dragon's head pulled back slightly, and its underside glowed red. Iris knew what was coming, and fear pierced her heart, making her forget all about her broken Firebolt. There was simply no chance of her dodging this, especially without her broom, especially if the dragon could move its head as it spewed flames, especially with how close she was.

The crowd screamed again as they realized what was to happen.

In the crowds, Hermione's cheeks were bleeding profusely as she dug her fingernails into them, as she watched the dragon get ready to kill her best friend. Ron grasped her wrist tightly as he too, wide-eyed, watched.

Fleur was clenching her teeth together painfully. Iris had nowhere to go. She wanted to scream at the dragon handlers to go and take care of the dragon.

Iris's heart pumped hard. The sound vanished. The thousand faces blurred from her view until they too vanished. It was only the dragon now. Was this it? When she had thought that this was the day she'd die, could she have been right? She couldn't even hear her own words. She didn't see her wand make two spiraling circles. The fear of dying this way clenched at her heart. Her last thoughts were of her friends, and the fear was overcome with a warmth, and she was sure it was the fire, engulfing her, dissolving her.

But the dragon was no longer in front of her. The fire that had been coming for her was gone, replaced by a brilliant aqua green shield, and the fire behind it flowed and billowed to the sides of the shield.

Sweat poured heavily down her face.

She expected the fire to die down quickly, but the pressure only increased. The dragon must have realized it didn't have her, or that there was a strong resistance — could dragons even do that?

It didn't matter.

The shield expanded until the feeling of heat wasn't as pronounced, until she could see more of the ground in front of her. The sound was still gone, but that was good. Iris didn't need it.

She felt the pressure increase again, and she too increased the amount of mental focus she was putting into this spell, and then her shield began pushing back. Iris let her amazement show for a second — her shield faltered — and she focused once more, bringing the shield back to its full strength.

Sweat began pouring down her face again, but not from the fire's proximity, but rather from the amount of work Iris was putting into this spell. She had never, not even with the dementors at the lake, put this much focus, this much strength, this much of her will into a spell. Not ever before.

The shield was now pushing further, and Iris could see the stands in her peripheral view again.

And then her wand kicked, recoiled, and her shield was no longer a simple shield, but a thick torrent of magic shooting from her wand, exploding once it entered the fire, keeping the flames at bay. Iris wasn't sure how she was doing it, but now wasn't the time to think about it — she was willing the spell do what she wanted, not what the creator intended, and that was enough for her.

She watched as the aqua green spell continued to pour out from her wand, almost like a powerful Water-Making Charm, but with a vapor-like substance to it. The fire and the spell met in midair and aqua green clashed against deep red, each fluid-like cloud of mass battling the other for dominance —

The fire stopped suddenly, and the dragon took a large step back to examine the scene. It was silent, unmoving, just as the crowd was.

Iris stood in front of the dragon, the edges of her clothing burning only slightly, like embers. But she was unharmed. Not even Bagman spoke, and the dragon handlers who were rushing into the arena began withdrawing.

Iris took a deep, steadying breath. This was something she wouldn't even bother processing now. She'd think over what just happened later.

She pulled her shield from her back and into her left hand, and began running. She sent a stream of fire into the dragon's head, so it wouldn't use a more precise attack such as its claws or mouth. Just as she thought, the dragon recoiled from the flames, and instead swept its tail among the ground.

She saw it coming slowly, as though time itself was slowing itself. She reached her left hand to her right shoulder, preparing to strike against the dragon's tail with her shield. It was insane, and she knew she'd have Hermione lose her mind at her after, but it was too late to turn back now.

The tail was destroying everything in its path as it swept the ground to her left, and Iris went to bash it with the shield — she smashed the shield against the tail as it finally reached her — the two collided — Iris felt her left arm snap and the terrible pain that came with it. The shield hadn't held it back completely, but Iris stood her ground for the most part; her feet dragged against the ground slightly, and she faltered in her run.

The shield's outer parts broke off forcefully, and several of its pieces flew directly into the dragon's tail, which had been stopped completely by the shield. The dragon howled with pain as the shield's fractured parts dug deep past its scales. It howled with greater pain as the hexagram shield that was leftover was Banished into its tail too.

Iris was already running again. She ignored the blinding pain in her arm and sprinted on. The dragon, in its confused attempt to find Iris with the pain in its tail, stomped around — and Iris was forced to dodge a large claw which nearly sliced her in two.

She sprinted past the dragon's feet, seeing the tail coming for her again, and she knew the edge would hit her. She jumped as high as she could, making herself parallel with the ground — it was no good.

One of the spikes from the dragon sliced through a part of her back, through her right shoulder blade. Iris let out a small yelp of pain as she slid across the rocky floor, rolling uncontrollably, with the small, sharp rocks embedding themselves in her skin, but she immediately shot to her feet.

The adrenaline was pumping through her veins. Her vision was sharper than it ever was before. Everything irrelevant, unnecessary, not completely life-threatening was filtered out.

Iris aimed her wand over her shoulder — or tried to, but the wound on her back was too painful to let her move her right arm — and her broken left arm was no good either. Instead, Iris pointed her wand forwards, shouted, "Fumos!" and twitched her wand from side to side. Gray smoke began filling the air in front of her, and she jumped right into it, hearing the area behind her get crushed by the dragon's tail. She continued to let the smoke come out, now with her wand held loosely to the side.

Then she tripped.

She was in the nest. She plucked the golden egg with both hands, trying her best to ignore the excruciating pain she was feeling now, and ran as if Voldemort himself was chasing her.

The crowd burst into cheers as Iris emerged from the smoke with the golden egg in her hands. The dragon handles immediately all sent stunners into the dragon, and it collapsed on the ground with a heavy thud, and that was it.

Iris collapsed on the ground near a tent in exhaustion. She only vaguely noticed Madam Pomfrey exit the tent and levitate her inside, and to a bed. She heard Bagman shouting about her time in getting the egg, the quickest apparently.

"Goodness me! Goodness me! You foolish girl! I don't know whether to scold you or compliment you on somehow surviving the impossible again!" Madam Pomfrey said as she began healing Iris, who groaned in pain as she was pushed to a sitting position.

Iris felt her bone in her left arm snap into place and heal. Madam Pomfrey pulled out some purple potion and began applying it to her back, and with a tap of the nurse's wand, Iris felt the cut on her back seal up. Madam Pomfrey looked at her left thigh and began casting spells there too. Somewhere in Iris's foggy mind, she hoped she'd be able to remove those scars. But she was too exhausted, too shocked that she had really done it to really bother asking. The bruises and cuts that ached and stung everywhere began to heal as well.

It was amazing, Iris thought, what magic could do. She was in agonizing pain just moments ago, and now she only felt a bit stiff and achy.

Madam Pomfrey clicked her tongue in disapproval. "Two puncture wounds, four separate cuts, two of them very deep, numerous internal injuries, two broken bones, even more numerous small cuts, how you do it is beyond me, Potter."

Iris grinned feebly. "Simple, really, I —"

"No, no sarcasm now — sit down! Stop trying to move!"

"You're not going to let me finish my joke?"

"There," Madam Pomfrey said, ignoring her. "I'm afraid I can't remove any of the scars," she said, seeing Iris look down at her thigh with a look of distaste. Madam Pomfrey repaired what she could of Iris's clothes, but there was still a large hole on her thigh, exposing her skin, and the small bits the dragon had burned off were gone for good. It was a shame. Iris had liked how she looked in these clothes — when they didn't look as though they'd gone through several battles, that is.

Iris closed her eyes. "Is my back bad? The scar, I mean."

"No, no, it's not… bad, necessarily. It was just deep. I couldn't remove the scar with my wand. It was from a dragon after all. It's not terrible though, not like — well —"

"My leg?"

"Well, yes," Madam Pomfrey said. "We can get any of them removed later, if you wish, but it'll require a special potion, one students unfortunately have to pay for, given how expensive —"

"Forget it," Iris interrupted. "I don't care. I'm just glad I'm alive." And she was, and a bit agitated that she had been forced to go through all of that, lest her magic be ripped from her body.

Professor McGonagall burst through the mouth of the tent, and there were three people behind her. Moody, Rita Skeeter, and Hagrid.

"Excellent, Potter!" McGonagall said, smiling with pride. "Poppy, is she alright?"

"Very impressive, Potter," Moody said while Pomfrey and McGonagall talked. "That kind of pain tolerance, that will to keep going, you'd make for a fine Auror, lassie."

Iris stared up at his grizzled face. "Are scarred are the rest of the Aurors?"

Moody chuckled. "You're already halfway there from what I can see. Three scars right there, see?" he said.

"These?" Iris said, looking down at the three scars on her thigh. "Let's see. Three on my left thigh, one on my right ankle, one on my right arm, two on my left shoulder, one on my back, one on my forehead — oh yes, I'd love to become an Auror."

Moody looked unimpressed. "Don't be a child, your looks will fade one day anyway."

"I just battled a dragon. I'll be whatever the hell I want, Frankenstein."

"Y'know," Moody said, scratching his chin, "Frankenstein was the monster's creator, not the monster itself."

"Y'know, I don't really care."

Moody grinned at her, and she grinned back. "Come on, lass, we've got to get your scores."

"Good job, Iris!" Hagrid said, patting her on the back, directly where the dragon's tail had swiped her. Iris winced. "I knew yer could do it! Wha' did I say, eh? Agains' the wors' dragon of 'em all, and yeh handled her better than the res' of 'em." He beamed down at her. Iris patted his elbow and thanked him.

"Iris!" came a familiar voice from behind her. Iris turned around and saw Rita Skeeter there, standing and smiling. "Can I ask you a question?

"Apparently."

"Is that a yes? I was wondering if I could ask a few actually — or a quote would do just fine, what do you —"

"You want a quote? Sure. How about this? Potter says no."

And she walked out of the tent, picking up her golden egg from a table on the way out.

"Maybe you shouldn't be an Auror," Moody said as he hobbled out of the tent with Iris, who raised an eyebrow in silent question. "That kind of sarcasm would never make it through Auror training, and I think you'd shrivel up and die without your sarcasm."

"Oh, ha, ha. If you asked me that a month ago, I'd seriously consider it. But I'm already sick of all the adrenaline from the last month alone. By the end of the year, even if Voldemort hasn't reappeared for our end of year fight, I'll be taking a holiday."

Moody shrugged, gave her a pat on the back and as he turned to leave her, he said, "Wait here for your scores. Y'know, there is this one lass whose sarcasm survived Auror training. You two should meet. Nymphadora Tonks is her name."

And he walked unsteadily away, leaving Iris with a thoughtful expression on her face. Nymphadora Tonks. Sarcastic, and a Metamorphmagus too as Iris remembered Hermione telling her.

"That's a ridiculous name!" Iris shouted to Moody's back.

"Don't let her hear you say that… or her name at all!"

Iris was now in the arena again (the dragon was gone) and was standing near the tent she had walked out of, looking up the stands where the judges sat.

"We'll be getting Miss Potter's score in just a moment!" Bagman said from his chair, which was draped in gold like the other four seats. And then, from her right, Iris saw Hermione and Ron making their way to her. Ron was holding her broken Firebolt, gazing down at it sadly.

"Iris!" Hermione said as she hugged Iris tightly. "Oh, sorry, are you still hurting? You must have a lot of internal injuries! Did Madam Pomfrey clear you? Should you even be out here?"

"No, I'm not; I did, but not anymore; yes, she cleared me; and yes, I'm supposed to be out here," Iris said.

Ron stared at her, his face very pale. "Bloody hell, Iris. We — we thought were going to lose you there."

"I thought the cockatrice — the griffin nearly — and then the troll began running at you and I knew — then the dragon was ready —" Hermione tried to say, but she burst into tears and flung herself at Iris again.

"Blimey Hermione, let her breathe," Ron said, smiling faintly. He still hadn't regained the color in his face.

"I — I just don't know what they were thinking! I don't know what you were thinking! That's not what the shield was for! It was only meant to be a safety precaution, not to be used to smack a dragon!" Hermione said very fast, pulling away from Iris.

"Yeah, but it worked, didn't it?" Ron said. "And it was brilliant. She slapped a dragon's tail away, Hermione!"

"And broke my arm in the process," Iris muttered as the two began bickering.

"Dragons themselves was enough! It's no wonder so many have died in this tournament before!" Hermione went on.

"It's done now, Hermione," Iris said. "I'm okay."

"Now you're okay!" Hermione said. "But this is just the first task! What if it gets harder from now on out?"

"I doubt it," said Ron, rubbing his chin. "The other champions had a lot of trouble too. You dealt with the dragon the quickest, Iris, so if you still nearly died, I doubt they'll increase the difficulty."

"We'll talk later, they're about to give the scores out," Iris said, pointing out Bagman.

"And now we're going to get Miss Potter's scores!" Bagman said. "Miss Potter received a full fifty points from the other sectors. To avoid last place, she only needs nine total points."

Krum frowned at Bagman from his spot in the stands. Even he, though, had to admit she had done well, better than him even.

"Madame Maxime, if you will," Bagman said.

Madame Maxime pointed her wand upwards and a silver ribbon shot from it, forming into a large figure eight. The Gryffindors cheered very loudly, but Iris noticed the other houses' cheering wasn't as strong.

"An eight? What's she playing at? She hates me!" Iris exclaimed.

"She gave Fleur a nine," Hermione said.

"She should have given a ten," Ron said. "You were easily the best, Iris. Warrington did a bunch of Transfiguration and used a lot of smoke, much more than you did in the end there. Though, the dragon just blew most of it away. It took him a couple of tries to finally get his egg. He transfigured nearly all of the rocks in the arena by that point."

Barty Crouch came next. He pointed his wand upwards and shot a number ten in the air. The crowd nearly exploded in sound.

"But — but I got hurt?" Iris said, confused.

"Blimey, I didn't expect that," said Ron. "He didn't give anything higher than an eight for the rest. You did do it the fastest though, and that shield thing you did was amazing — both the physical shield and that spell."

"What did Krum do to get such a low score?" Iris asked.

"He killed a hippogriff," Hermione said, disapprovingly. "I think it was by accident, but he lost all the points there and had ten points removed from his final score. So he really lose twenty points there. If he hadn't killed it, he'd have seventy eight points."

Dumbledore threw a number nine into the air. The majority of the crowd cheered loudly again. Iris saw the Weasley twins pretend to faint from up in the stands.

"That's twenty-eight points already, Iris! You're definitely going to beat Cassius Warrington too!" Hermione shouted happily.

"The twins were already telling us how they were going to throw a giant party after this, but after seeing these scores so far, we'll be lucky if the Gryffindor tower remains standing in the morning," Ron said.

Karkaroff shot a seven into the air.

Ron's eyebrows shot nearly to his hairline. "He gave a ten to Krum but a six to both Warrington and Fleur. You must've impressed him."

"Of course she impressed him! Did you hear the crowd when she pushed that fire back?" Hermione said.

"The crowd wasn't making any sound at all —"

"Exactly! Iris, how did you do that?"

Iris shrugged. "Dunno."

Hermione and Ron both bit back their laughter at Iris's uncaring attitude concerning doing the impossible.

Bagman shot up a number ten into the air, and the crowd definitely exploded this time.

"That's a total of forty-four points!" Hermione shrieked. "You beat everyone, Iris, you beat everyone!" Hermione hugged Iris again and began jumping up and down. Ron stared at her in shock and excitement.

A chant from the Gryffindors ascended from the crowd: "Potter! Potter! Potter!"

Iris smiled radiantly. She had actually done it. She had come in first place. She looked over to the large Slytherin group and was pleased to see many of them looking shocked and devastated, especially Malfoy.

Ron must have seen what she was looking at for he chuckled and said, "Malfoy was taking bets you'd end up in last place. I imagine he owes quite a lot of people money since you're in first place now."

"Suppose I should go give them this egg," Iris said, looking down at her golden egg.

Hermione frowned. "Iris, they don't get it back. It's yours now. You get to keep it."

Iris looked up with a smirk. "Damn right I do."

Hermione sighed and Ron snickered.

As the crowd died down, Bagman spoke again excitedly, "Fourty-four points! That leaves Iris Potter with a total of ninety-four points for the first task, giving her first place!" Bagman's cheeks would surely rip with how wide his smile was.

"Can't believe I actually did it," murmured Iris.

"Congratulations, all of you! What a spectacular task! A fantastic show! I dare say Iris Potter showed the Daily Prophet just how wrong they were! Now, a few last words. The golden egg you four received contain a clue to help you with the third task. No, not the second task, but the third, which will be held on February twenty-fifth. The second task will be held in January, but we won't be telling you the exact date. It'll be a surprise! Now go on, I'm sure you'd all like to celebrate!"

"Iris, Iris! Bloody hell!" came Charlie's voice from behind her. Iris turned to see Charlie running at her, his mouth hanging open. "How did you do that? I've never been able to do something like that with my Dragonfire Shield Charms!"

"I thought you said you couldn't do them at all?" asked Ron.

"What?" Charlie said, frowning at Ron. "I told you that two years ago, Ron."

"Oh," Ron said, smiling sheepishly as Iris shot him an exasperated look.

"I thought you were a goner," Charlie continued, looking at Iris, "but then you did the shield, and all of us were right shocked, I'll tell you, but one of us nearly fainted when we saw you start to push the fire back. It looked like an incredibly strong combination of both the Water-Making Charm and Dragonfire Shield Charm. What spell was that?"

Iris shrugged. "Praesidio Incaendium, the Dragonfire Shield Charm. I could tell that the dragon knew I wasn't done as the fire kept going, getting stronger and all, so I just pushed back harder. That's when the shield turned from a dome to that torrent."

"Well, whatever it was, it —"

But whatever he was going to say, it was stopped by the dreamy expression that suddenly washed over his and Ron's face.

Iris turned around and saw Fleur walking towards her. "Mademoiselle Delacour," Iris said. "Mes jambes sont en feu."

Fleur stopped and stared at Iris, a seemingly reluctant smile making its way upon her face. "Who told you to say that?" Fleur asked, holding back a laugh.

"Charlie here did," Iris said, nodding her head to the man in question.

Fleur turned to him in surprise, saw the state he was in, and wrinkled her nose at both him and Ron. "I am sure he did," she said. "Congratulations on first place, Mademoiselle Potter."

"Jealous?"

"Iris!" Hermione whispered.

"Non," Fleur said haughtily, "You simply got lucky."

Hermione's eyes flared. "She did not get lucky!"

Fleur turned to her, ignoring Iris's amused look. "Ah, and you must be 'Ermione Granger. Professor Snape 'as told me so much about you."

Hermione stared incredulously at Fleur. "Professor Snape?!" she exclaimed. "What — you were — unbelievable! You were all supportive up in the stands, how could —" Hermione stopped when she heard Iris snickering beside her. "Oh, very funny, the both of you are hilarious," she said sarcastically, and she turned around and left.

"Hermione!" Iris called out, still laughing. "I'm sure Snape said wonderful things about you!"

"I'm going to sleep!" Hermione yelled back.

Iris stared at Hermione's back. "She's going to sleep? If anyone deserves to go to sleep at this hour, it's me."

"I did mean it, I hope you know," Fleur said as the two began following Hermione back up to the castle, leaving two redheads behind them. There was something odd in her voice though. "You did very well."

"Are you okay?" Iris asked.

"Hm? Oh, oui. It's just — Madame Maxime asked me to finish 'ere quickly, then come to the carriage. I would rather not, however. Many of the other students will just insult me for losing to you, a fourteen year old."

"Don't go then," Iris said, shrugging.

"I'd rather not 'ave to 'ear Madame Maxime rant later because I ignored her. You are to be going up to your tower, are you not? To 'ave a party? You deserve it, for the way you fought the dragon."

"What, viking style?"

"Viking style?" Fleur asked, confused. "How so?"

"The shield, the braid, the — well, that's really it actually. Nevermind. I'll see you later then?"

"Oui, I'm sure. Goodnight, Iris."

"Night, Fleur," Iris said, and she made her way back to the castle alone, until Ron caught up with her and handed her the broken Firebolt. "Think they can get this fixed?"

"Most — most likely," said Ron, out of breath. "Might cost a bit, but it's not damaged like your previous broom was. Blimey, I still can't believe I just witnessed you battle a dragon."

"Blimey, you're saying blimey a lot."

"Oh, shut up."

The two made their way inside and up to the Gryffindor common room, ignoring the cheers and insults, talking about how Iris fared in the task. Ron was awfully impressed with almost everything: "I'd die in a second against that cockatrice! How do you keep a cool head all the time? That griffin almost got you! It's like they were trying to kill you all!"

The party in the common room must have lasted for hours, and almost everybody had something to say to her. The twins had put her up on their shoulders and praised her as if she was a goddess. Cormac McLaggen had made her laugh especially: "Potter, you get away with things no other student should get away with, attract all this trouble, fuck up our house points, but you know what? At the end of the day, you've done some pretty cool shit."

He ruined it by asking Iris out to Hogsmeade, again, however.

She didn't stick around for all of the party. She had gone through over an hour almost completely full of fighting for her life. She hoped Moody wouldn't mind her not showing up for class in the morning.

After she put away her broken Firebolt, unbraided her hair, undressed, and lay on her bed, she realized she had completely forgotten about Inigo and Nerissa.

"Oh, fuck me. Hermione, wake up! We've got conspiring to do."