Chapter 23

As Fleur withdrew her hand from the bag, now holding a miniature dragon, she grew even paler than she had already been. Drawing back her shaking arm, she cast a glare at Harry. Any effectiveness it might have possessed was taken away by the terror she was clearly in, so he simply continued staring at her, his lips twisted up into a smirk.

After a few seconds, he switched his gaze to the other two champions. Both appeared to have had prior knowledge of the task's events, though as Cedric walked up to collect his dragon, it wasn't hard for Harry to detect the concealed nervousness in his stride. That said, a similar feeling brewed within his own gut.

Normally, he would not be so foolish to enter direct combat with a dragon, but the Tri-Wizard Tournament demanded it of him. Sure, he didn't actually have to kill the dragon, as he had previously thought, but stealing an egg - even if it wasn't a real one - from a nesting mother was basically the same thing. She certainly wouldn't allow him to take what she perceived to be one of her young without a fight, so a fight he would give her.

He had spent the last few weeks preparing for this and he wasn't going to fail now, no matter what odds might be stacked against him. Illusions would likely be useless; he wasn't good enough to sustain something that would fool the dragon's sight, smell, and hearing for long enough. The spells at which he was most skilled were mainly ice magic, which he felt gave him an innate disadvantage against a fire-breathing reptile. Nonetheless, he had a sword, and dragons in fables were always killed by swords; the fact that its enchantments seemed to be good enough to pierce a dragon's magically-enhanced hide could also help.

Casting his thoughts aside as Viktor Krum retrieved his dragon, Harry got to his feet and took what he knew was the final and most deadly dragon: the Hungarian Horntail. Well, this was just fantastic. Mentally preparing himself for the task, he relaxed into his seat.

And that was when a few more Ministry officials entered the tent, bringing with them Rita Skeeter and her photographer with them. Harry withheld a growl of annoyance as the reporter tried to gather them for photos. She hadn't been a problem over the past weeks, not daring to publish anything about him out of her fear of Darth Vader.

He briefly contemplated flashing his eyes a glassy black or turning his breathing robotic, but there wasn't really any need. For once, none of the other champions appeared to be prepared to deal with Skeeta, preferring to ignore her in favour of some last minute preparations. He couldn't find a fault in their actions, and particularly Fleur's, seeing as she was meant to go first and was the only one not to be informed of the task beforehand.

It hadn't been a wise move on her part to trust him, especially since she thought he was an idiot. He supposed that her arrogance in believing that no one could resist her charm made it so she deserved whatever fate awaited her in the hands - or more likely, the teeth - of the dragon. So when she left to confront her reptilian foe, Harry eagerly awaited for her to be brought back on a stretcher or in a body bag.

'I don't think wizards have body bags.' Loki said, and then paused. 'Or stretchers, for that matter. Nonetheless, we will find out if you don't concentrate on the task. Then again, if we are incinerated by dragon's fire, they could just put us in a jar, but we won't know anyway if we're dead.'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'Relax, I've got this.'

'I suppose I should have some faith you. You have, after all, been trained by a genius.'

'Indeed. An extremely modest genius,' Harry confirmed, glancing up for a moment as Fleur was escorted out of the tent to do battle with her dragon. He would be last, so he had a bit more time to go over his pitiful excuse for a plan. Brushing his hand over the sheath at his side, he confirmed his sword was still there.

Seeing as champions were only meant to have their wands, he had been forced to create an expansion charm on his sheath, with only the hilt protruding out of it and being hidden under his shirt, the blade being contained in what appeared to be a few centimeters of space.

Originally, he had attempted to cast a shrinking charm on the blade, but any tampering with its enchantments had resulted in a decidedly violent reaction which had sent him flying across the room. Suffice to say, Harry hadn't tried to do anything else to the sword after that, lest the consequences be even worse.

Once again, he relaxed back into his chair, thinking over his plans and listening to the crowd's boos and jeers, and the roars of a dragon.

An unidentifiable amount of time passed before Cedric was called up to compete. Harry mentally noted that as the Hogwarts champion fought his dragon, he received noticeably more cheers than Fleur, though he wasn't sure whether this was due to a better performance, or the large majority of the crowd composing of Hogwarts students.

Eventually, Krum was called out to the stadium, and Harry once again ensured that he was fully prepared to fight the dragon. He listened to the crowd cheer Krum on, and it wasn't long before he was called up.

As he stepped out into the stadium, he plastered a confident smirk upon his face, waving to the crowd and instantly sending them into a fit of cheering. That noise, however, was interrupted as a tremendous screech ripped through the air, and Harry finally turned towards its source.

The Hungarian Horntail was at least 50 feet long, and like the replica, it had scales a shining black, with bronze horns and spines. It was an intimidating sight, and that was before it turned skywards and unleashed a burst of fire into the air, which only served to make it seem more terrifying.

It opened his wings, and Harry was immediately struck by the thing's enormity compared to him - and the crowd for that matter. He glanced to the chain around the dragon's neck, confirming that some safety measures had been put in place. Hopefully, they would help him. Once again, the dragon stood on its hind legs, unfolded its wings and let out a tremendous screech, as if warning Harry that it would not.

Nonetheless, he casually strolled forward, his face speaking of smug confidence, rather than the nervous tension brewing within his gut. He stopped his careless amble at an instruction from Loki, standing just outside the range of the dragon's fire.

Without worry, he turned his back on the dragon in order to face the ground, noting that they weren't cheering quite as loudly for him as they had been for Cedric. That was probably due to the reputation he had gained over the past few weeks. Whilst the large majority of Gryffindor revered him as a hero, and greatly admired him, his fanclub in the other houses wasn't so large.

Most of Hufflepuff resented him in much the same way that most of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons did, hating how he opposed their champion. Ravenclaw, though curious, were largely neutral on the matter. The Slytherins, on the other hand, were either also neutral, or clear in their utter hatred of him. Whether it was for slaying Lord Voldemort as a baby, humiliating Malfoy, or making Snape cry, he did not know. Come to think about it, he also didn't particularly care.

Nonetheless, their respect could be useful, and what better way to gain it than a display of his power? And what better way to display his power than destroying a dragon and showing off at the same time? He couldn't think of one useful at the present moment, so he lifted his wand high into the air. A crack of thunder split the sky, and lightning exploded from the heavens and smashed into the ground - directly where Harry had been standing.

The crowd went silent as a cloud of dust rose from what could have only been the sight of a misfired spell. Surely the second Hogwarts champion hadn't failed so soon? He was only a 14 year old, but this? Quiet murmurings began to rise up, but then the debris cleared, and they were afforded a decidedly unexpected sight: Harry stood unharmed, his eyes glowing neon green and a sword of shining silver hanging lazily from his right hand.

He slowly raised the weapon, and it took only a moment for the crowd to resume their cheering. And then he charged. Illusions would not fool a dragon, and spells would not have much of an effect; he would have to get up close and personal.

Bouncing from rock to rock in inhumanly large leaps, he made his way closer to the dragon. In turn, it let out a challenging roar, before unleashing a torrent of burning flames at him, causing him to duck behind a rock. Even then, the heat was searing hot, beginning to make him sweat. He didn't doubt that it was of a temperature hot enough to incinerate him in a moment - through his enchanted underlayer and all. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if it was hot enough to kill a full Asgardian, let alone him, with the ice of Jotunheim coursing through his veins.

For a moment, the fire relented, and Harry was immediately darting towards the next cover. He managed to dash a further ten meters after that, skidding behind the next boulder as the flames resumed.

Apparently, the dragon had learned, for as he made to progress to the next rock, he found a blast of fire heading towards him, the dragon not having expended all of it a few moments before. It was only his razor-sharp reflexes that saved him from certain death, allowing him to erect a shield of glowing golden light that prevented his incineration.

It was only a second or two before the dragon halted its fiery breath, and this time, Harry was confident the creature wasn't bluffing. So he dropped the shield and whipped his wand forward, already incanting, "Infrigum Sanguo!"

A bolt of bright blue light leapt from the tip of his wand like an animal closing in for the kill, entering the dragon's mouth as it opened it once again to release another firestorm. Its eyes bulged, and it appeared to gag on the blood-freezing curse. Apparently, the protections offered by its scales didn't quite extend to the inside of its throat. At this revelation - one that he had already suspected - Harry began to rain more spells upon the beast.

He knew that if he gave it even a moment, it would have the chance to retaliate with a blast of fire, so he didn't pause, firing low-effort spells off one after another. Another curse managed to get down its throat before it closed its mouth, this one a blasting spell.

The dragon dodged his next hail of spellfire before managing to move its head into the path of a bludgeoning curse. It didn't have much of an effect, but it dazed the dragon long enough for Harry to land his next few curses. That said, they didn't have much of an effect, cutting and blasting spells alike not having a discernable effect except for making the dragon angrier and causing it to flinch back, though he continued his bombardment, not giving the dragon a moment of reprieve.

And then: a moment of success. Blood sprayed high into the air as a decidedly Dark cutting curse struck the dragon's left eye. Harry, however, had only a second to feel victory, before something equivalent to a speeding car slammed against his side. A white hot pain gripped his face as he was flung through the air, and he dimly realized that the dragon had smashed him with its paw, one of its talons slashing through his cheek.

Light once again exploded behind his eyes as he hit a boulder, his head rebounding off the rock with a sickening crack. There was no doubt that if he had been a human, or not wearing his under layer, he would've been dead. That was probably why the crowd, formerly cheering, burst into screams.

Harry could hear people screaming in terror. It was irritating, for he was trying to get some rest. It also appeared that someone had spilled something hot and sticky over his face, and that he was, for a reason unknown, sleeping outside. He could hear Loki yelling about something, but he was too tired to figure out what, so he went back to sleep.

Suddenly, a burning pain was coursing through him, and his eyes snapped open, immediately taking in the scene around him. It only took the sight of the dragon for him to remember where he was.

'Your armour absorbed the majority of the impact,' Loki informed rapidly. 'You have a concussion, but it isn't too serious. I'm healing the wound on your face, so I can't concentrate on numbing everywhere else.'

Harry staggered to his feet, ignoring whatever noises the crowd were making as he dived behind a boulder and out of the dragon's line of sight. He had neither his wand nor sword, and a glance from behind cover revealed the former to be directly under the dragon, and the latter to be about halfway between him and the dragon.

So, the sword it was then. With a moment's planning, Harry dashed out of cover and at his foe, not allowing himself a moment to focus on his sore, sore body.

Harry thought he saw something like surprise upon on the beast's face face, but his study of facial expressions, unfortunately, didn't extend to draconic ones, so he might've have been wrong. Nonetheless, he continued, even as the dragon drew in a tremendous breath, no doubt preparing to erase him.

That could not be allowed, however, and he feinted dodging behind a rock, before pouring his magic into a shoddy illusion of invisibility. It would only hide him for a moment - and that was thanks to the dragon's normally poor vision as well as the fact it was missing an eye - but a moment was all he needed.

Skidding to the floor, he grabbed his sword, and then was instantly on his feet again. A second later, he leaped skyward. At his magic's call, an icy wind swept up and caught him. It propelled him a few further meters forward as his illusion dispelled, and the dragon turned its fire upon him.

As the scorching flames billowed towards him, a strong shield of golden Asgardian magic burst into existence. Heat still seared at his skin, yet no flames reached through. And then Harry swiped the sword forward, slicing through his shield and flames alike before throwing it with inhuman strength. It span end over end in a style akin to a dagger, before embedding itself in the dragon's shoulder. The beast writhed in agony as the blade penetrated its skin, and Harry continued to fall downwards.

He hit the ground and rolled, picking up his wand and turning it skywards just as the dragon began to fall towards him, letting out another screech of pain.

It took a moment for Harry to create a plan. It was difficult to exert direct control over magical creatures, so any levitation charm to halt it would be rather difficult, taking its mass into account. Once your magic was inside a creature, however, it was much easier to control it.

It was because of this, Harry let the dragon continue to fall, and a moment later, it impaled itself upon his wand. Instantly, he forced his magic into the creature, letting it flood its veins and keep it levitated. He gathered his concentration, and a moment later, murmured, "Gelventus Maxima."

With his wand embedded six inches into the dragon's stomach, the freezing cold wind had nowhere to go but inwards. Ice rapidly spread through the dragon's insides, held in by the magic-resistant scales. A final, pathetic sound escaped the dragon, and then it was still.

Harry didn't let his concentration sway, however, not wanting to be crushed under a ten ton reptile. He was also not quite done.

Even as exhaustion threatened to claim him, Harry continued his intricate spellwork, dragging the magic from the dragon's skin. And then, as he had at the beginning, he focused, and called up an illusion of thunder and lightning, this time combining it with a blasting curse.

The dragon simply shattered, leaving Harry standing within the frozen fragments of its corpse. The crowd was silent, and Harry wandered over to where his sword had fallen, embedded in the ground up to its hilt. With casualness that told nothing of the tremendous fatigue weighing down upon him, Harry grabbed it and lifted it up high.

He roared in triumph, and the crowd followed suit.

A/N: Bit of a time skip there, but I felt it was suitable. Anyway, tell me what you thought!