- CHAPTER SIX -

Ave Caesar, morituri te salutant

"Miss Granger, Messrs Weasley, it's time for the champions to assemble at the Quidditch pitch for the first task."

Harry, Hermione, and the twins had just finished their lunch at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. The four students turned around towards Professor McGonagall, who had spoken to them. The Professor had her lips pursed as she looked at the Gryffindor champions, though Harry thought that he could spot a hint of worry in the older witch's eyes, too.

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione answered politely. "We'll best be on our way, then."

The four students got up and left the Great Hall under encouraging calls from some of their fellow Gryffindors. There weren't many students left in the hall, though, as most of the school was down at the arena already.

As they neared the Quidditch pitch and the huge tent next to it, Harry was surprised at the sight before him. The whole area was swarmed with dozens of red-robed Aurors, and the entrance to the champions' tent was heavily guarded.

Harry gave a relieved sigh. Fudge might have been insisting that Peter Pettigrew and Voldemort were dead, but apparently, the DMLE was still present with almost the entire Auror Corps to guard the happenings.

He grinned. With this kind of security, there was no way that Riddle would be able to show up today. Not even to quickly step into and out of the arena, which might have been sufficient to satisfy the magical contract created by the Goblet of Fire. Voldemort was about to get defeated today, without even being present for the happy occasion.

Harry, Hermione, Fred, and George passed the guards at the entrance of the tent and stepped inside. Harry spotted the schools' headmasters in one corner, together with most of the champions. Fleur was talking to Madame Maxime, and Krum and Karkaroff were whispering to each other. Dumbledore was talking to Cedric and one of the Aurors. Crabbe and Goyle watched the proceedings with their usual blank expressions. Like the four Gryffindors, the two Slytherins wore their ordinary school robes. Only Cedric, Krum, and Fleur wore more extravagant uniforms which prominently displayed their school crests.

Cedric looked up at the Gryffindors as they entered and gave them a polite nod, and Harry could see that the Hufflepuff was relieved and grateful that they had told him of the dragons the day before.

Crouch, Bagman, and Minister Fudge stood in another corner of the tent, with Rita Skeeter and her photographer hanging about close-by, trying to appear inconspicuous. Minister Fudge wore deep blue duelling robes with a formfitting dragon hide vest, which seemed rather out of place on the unathletic, overweight man.

The three Ministry officials approached the four Gryffindors as soon as they had stepped into the tent. Bagman was cheerful as ever, but the other two men were visibly upset.

"Do you have any idea how much trouble you have caused us?" Crouch asked them with a loud, angry voice. "The Ministry had to search the whole world to find nine nesting dragons and then had to transport them here. The costs for the tournament have gone through the roof, and I'm holding you four personally responsible."

"Well, I'm holding responsible whatever imbecile came up with this idea for the task in the first place," Harry replied with a shrug.

"Besides, couldn't you have just changed the task to something else?" Hermione inquired.

"Changing the task completely would have been even more difficult," Bagman said dismissively.

"More difficult?" Hermione repeated with an incredulous expression. "Changing the task to something innocuous like a duelling competition would have been more difficult than finding and hauling in six additional nesting dragons?"

"Uhm, well," Bagman said uneasily, "I guess if you put it that way..."

Hermione's temper erupted. "What kind of idiot thinks 'What would be a good challenge for three school children? Hey, how about this: Let's have each of them fight a dragon! What, now there are much more competitors, some of them even younger than expected? Oh well, no problem, let's not change the task – nooo! Let's just find a bunch more dragons!' Idiotic wizards, not an ounce of logic or common sense!"

Upon hearing this, Fudge exploded, too. "What is this, Ludo? Crouch?" He turned towards his colleagues. "Are you telling me the task could have been changed so that I wouldn't have to fight a dragon!?"

Bagman fidgeted. "Well, you see..."

Fudge rounded on Crouch. "You! This is your doing, Crouch! Oh, I see it now! You're trying to get me killed because you want my job!"

"Preposterous!" exclaimed the other man.

"Oh no, I know how you feel about me!" Fudge insisted furiously, "You think that you should have become Minister instead of me back in 1990!"

"This has nothing to do with the task!" Crouch replied with indignation.

The complexion of both men was slowly turning purple from rage. Rita Skeeter, in the meantime, was gleefully scribbling down notes on her notepad.

"Bah! You don't fool me!" the Minister exclaimed, "Let me tell you, Crouch, the minute this tournament is over, I'll have your resignation on my desk!"

"We'll see about that!" Crouch replied coldly.

"Ohh, no!" Fudge shouted while gesticulating wildly, "When this is over, you'll have much more free time to spend with that 'secret mistress' of yours!"

Harry's eyebrows rose at that. Did Fudge know about the relationship between Crouch and Moody, too?

"Oh, will I? Well, at least my 'secret mistress' doesn't look like a toad!" Crouch shouted scathingly in reply.

Harry had to suppress a chortle at that, even though he wasn't sure if Moody was necessarily better looking than someone who looked like a toad. He and most of the other attendants in the tent watched with gaping mouths as the two irate Ministry officials continued screaming at each other.

"Oh, yes? Well, at least I didn't put my own son in Azkaban!"

"Well, at least I was man enough to at least father a child!"

"At least my wife didn't die out of shame for being married to a loser!"

"At least I'm not fellating Malfoy for his money!"

"At least I didn't shit myself at the last Ministry New Year's reception!"

"That was chocolate ice cream, and you know it!"

"Gentlemen, please!" Dumbledore finally interjected loudly, "Is this really necessary?"

Madam Maxime wrinkled her nose disdainfully. "Oui, when ze Messieurs from your Ministrie are quite done, I zink we should start wiz ze task."

Crouch and Fudge continued glaring at each other hatefully but remained silent.

"Of course," Bagman said with an uneasy laugh. He held up a large sack of purple silk. "Please, if all the champions could come to me?"

"Wow, that was surreal," Hermione whispered to Harry as they stepped forward. Harry was shaking his head, an amused smirk on his lips.

"Now, one after the other, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag," Bagman announced when all the champions were gathered around him. "From it, you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different - er - varieties, you see. Oh, and your task is to collect the golden egg!"

Harry frowned. Had Bagman forgotten that Crouch had already been screaming about dragons not two minutes ago? Why didn't he just drop the pretences?

"Ladies first, right?" Bagman said brightly and offered the bag to Fleur.

The French girl drew a miniature figure of the Welsh Green dragon with a number four on it. She only gave a relieves sigh, indicating that she had indeed known about the dragons beforehand.

Then, Bagman the bag man held the bag out for Hermione. Harry held his breath as his girlfriend reached into the bag and pulled out another dragon. It was a miniature figure of the Hungarian Horntail with the number nine, the most dangerous dragon of the bunch. As it was the biggest challenge, Hermione would be the last champion to enter the arena.

"Wow, it looks as if you have somehow acquired my legendary luck!" Harry whispered as he and Hermione retreated towards the back of the tent. They didn't pay attention to what dragons the remaining champions were drawing.

Hermione shrugged. "It shouldn't really matter for our plan."

"Right," Harry agreed a bit nervously, "Actually, I guess it's really best for you to go last, or the others might try to copy you."

"True. Though, if any of our first three plans work, then there's really no hope for the wizarding world."

Harry chuckled. "So, you're saying that it's highly likely that Plan A will work?"

Hermione grinned. "Exactly."

Harry laughed out loud, but then he engulfed his girlfriend in a tight hug.

"Oh, don't worry, Harry," Hermione said as he pressed her against him. "The dragon won't come near me."

"No, it won't. I know. I trust our plans. But I can't help but worry. I couldn't bear it if something happened to you after I got you into this mess. Please be careful!"

"I will be," Hermione whispered.

"Good... I love you," Harry whispered back.

Hermione gasped slightly. Technically, this was the second time Harry had said it – the first time he had exclaimed it in his excitement the night before Halloween, but she knew that didn't really count.

"I love you too," she answered after a pause and captured his lips in a deep kiss.

The couple was startled by a flash of light. Harry looked up and shot an annoyed look at Rita Skeeter and her photographer, who had just taken a picture of the kissing couple.

"Ah, young love!" the reporter said with a sickly-sweet smile. "Just what my readers love to read about! Tell me, Harry, how do you feel about your girlfriend competing in the tournament? Are you proud? Worried? Or disappointed and angry at her for entering? Do you feel betrayed? What-"

"Miss Skeeter, I must ask you to leave these premises, as they are only for champions, professors, and Ministry officials," Dumbledore interrupted, coming to Harry and Hermione's rescue.

Skeeter frowned slightly, but replied with a sweet voice, "Of course, Headmaster. My apologies."

She left the tent in a hurry, her photographer trailing right behind her.

"...And for their close friends, of course," the Headmaster added with a kind smile as he turned towards Harry. "But I think it would be best, Harry, if you would take a seat in the audience as well, now."

"Of course, Professor," Harry replied.

After another quick kiss, he separated from Hermione and left the tent to find a good seat in the audience.

#

Half a minute later, Harry entered the stands of the arena and looked for the areas dominated by the red and golden colours of Gryffindor.

"Harry, over here!" he heard Neville shout out.

Harry spotted Neville sitting near the railings of the stands close to the arena. Neville had kept the seat to his right free for him, much to Harry's gratitude. To Neville's left sat Ginny, and next to her sat a blonde girl in Ravenclaw colours.

"Thanks, Nev!" Harry said appreciatively as he sat down. "Where are Dean and Seamus?"

Neville shrugged. "Dunno. With Ron, I think. But I found some good company, nonetheless."

Ginny smiled at them, and the blonde girl looked at Harry with wide eyes.

"Hello, Harry Potter," she said with a dreamy voice.

"Uhm, hi, I don't think we've been introduced before," Harry replied awkwardly.

The girl burst into laughter, and Ginny shook her head with amusement.

"That's my friend Luna Lovegood," the redhead told Harry. "She's a third-year in Ravenclaw, but she decided to sit with us Gryffindors for today."

Ginny then leaned over Neville towards Harry and whispered, "She can be a bit odd, sometimes, but she's a really sweet girl. Please be nice, okay?"

Harry just nodded with a smile. He had been living in the wizarding world for over three years, by now; he could deal with odd.

The blonde girl – Luna – was still laughing merrily.

"Great," Harry said after a pause, "so wha-"

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, dear students from Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang, honoured guests, welcome to the first task of this century's first Triwizard Tournament!" Ludo Bagman announced with a magically enhanced voice.

He stood on a platform at the bottom of the stands just a few yards above the enclosure of the arena. On the platform were five golden seats; Dumbledore sat in the middle, Crouch sat to his right, and Bagman's chair was to his left, though Bagman stood to make the announcement. Maxime and Karkaroff sat next to Crouch and Bagman, respectively.

While Bagman continued to explain the rules for the task, Harry noticed that Ginny was fidgeting nervously in her seat. Clearly, she was worried about her brothers.

Harry was just about to offer some comforting words, when Bagman announced, "Now, let's bring in the first dragon for our first champion, Fred Weasley!"

A side entrance to the arena's enclosure opened, and a dozen dragon handlers were dragging a large dragon into the enclosure on several chains. Another three dragon handlers were levitating a dragon nest into the arena.

"Oh, Merlin!" Ginny gasped with an anxious look. "Fred has to fight this?"

The dragon had a length of over fifteen feet, black scales, bronze horns, and black ridges on its back. It was a Norwegian Ridgeback, as Harry recalled from the list the twins had gotten from Charlie. The dragon was quite large but rather tame. Well, tame for a dragon, at least. Harry wondered if it was Norberta, the dragon Hagrid had hatched three years ago. How fast did dragons grow? He didn't know.

"She's cute," Luna said dreamingly, "Do you think we can go and pet her later?"

"Uhh, I don't think so, no," Harry replied with an arched eyebrow. He then turned towards the terrified looking Ginny.

"Hey, don't worry, Ginny," he said comfortingly. "I know that the twins have made plans that will allow them to avoid the dragons."

Ginny gave a trembling smile at that but didn't answer. Her eyes were transfixed on the dragon that was now protectively hunched over the nest in the centre of the arena.

"Now, give it up for FRED WEASLEY!" Bagman called.

The audience cheered, applauded and shouted both encouraging and disparaging remarks as Fred walked into the arena from the main entrance to the enclosure.

He gulped as he took in the scene before him, but his face showed his determination.

The redhead raised his wand and shouted, "Accio bait!"

There were excited whispers in the audience, as a huge piece of... pink something flew towards the boy at the edge of the enclosure. Harry narrowed his eyes and tried to look closer. Was that a leg of ham? Indeed, it was.

"And the first of our six Hogwarts champions has summoned - what is this? Some large piece of meat? Ah, yes!" Bagman commented for the whole arena to hear. "What is he doing now? He levitates it towards the dragon! The dragon is sniffing at it and - oh! One bite, and it's gone! Was that supposed to happen? ... Oh my, what is this? What is happening?"

Harry laughed out loud when he noticed what was happening to the dragon. Its tongue was getting longer and longer! Harry immediately recognised the effects of the twins' Ton-Tongue Toffee.

The dragon's tongue grew to over five foot in length while the dragon stumbled around in confusion. It was huffing and roaring, but then it began trembling and fell to the ground, seemingly unconscious. Apparently, it wasn't getting enough air.

Fred took the opportunity to sprint forwards to the nest.

"And now, that's his chance!" Bagman shouted excitedly. "And HE GOT THE EGG! Now- OH NO!"

While Fred had sprinted towards the egg, the Ridgeback's tongue had started to shrink back rapidly. The dragon had regained enough consciousness to wipe its tail towards Fred and hit him in the chest. The boy was flung backwards and collided with the wall of the enclosure.

Harry's eyes grew wide, and he heard Ginny gasp. Luckily, Fred was able to get up immediately, and he hurriedly crossed the short distance back towards the entrance, still holding onto the golden egg. He seemed a bit dazzled, but otherwise unharmed.

The audience broke out in cheers.

"HE'S DONE IT! A great showing! What a promising start for the tournament!" Bagman exclaimed. "Now, let's see the marks from the judges!"

Madam Maxime was first to raise her wand. What looked like a long silver ribbon shot out of it, which twisted itself into a large figure seven. The crowd applauded, while Crouch raised his wand. He, too, shot up a number seven in the air, just like Dumbledore after him. Bagman conjured a number nine.

"That's great!" Harry shouted towards Neville and Ginny.

Then, it was Karkaroff's turn. With a cold look at Fred, the Durmstrang Headmaster conjured a number five.

"What!?" Harry shouted. "That's not really fair!"

His friends voiced their agreement, and the loud murmurs in the crowd indicated that many people thought likewise.

"Thirty-five points for our first champion! Not bad! Not bad at all!" Bagman then called out. "Another round of applause for Fred Weasley, please, while we bring in the next dragon!"

Under the applause and cheers of the audience, Fred walked back towards the champions' tent. He still appeared to be a bit unsteady on his feet.

At the same time, the side entrance to the enclosure opened, and the dragon handlers stormed out to subdue the enraged dragon. When they had removed the Ridgeback from the arena, a new dragon was brought in immediately by a second team of dragon handlers.

It was twenty feet long, had black scales, a rather long, curved-shaped snout, and possessed a row of spikes that descended along its neck. Two black horns resided on the top of its head. Harry recognised it as a Canadian Long-snout.

It, too, was a comparatively tame species of dragon. As soon as the nest was placed in the centre of the arena, the dragon lay down and curled around it. The Long-snout seemed uninterested in the noisy audience and even appeared to doze off as soon as the dragon handlers left the arena. Maybe the Canadian dragon was just jet-lagged, Harry mused.

Bagman then announced the second champion. It was Gregory Goyle. The Slytherin entered the arena to the applause of most of the audience.

Goyle boldly walked towards the dozing dragon and aimed his wand at the animal.

"REDUCTO!" he cried.

A feeble bolt of light frizzled toward the dragon and hit it on the snout.

The dragon sneezed.

It raised its head, looked around and spotted Goyle a short distance away.

The boy blanched and froze in fear. A wet spot appeared on his trousers between his legs.

But the dragon appeared uninterested, or maybe it wasn't hungry, and it lowered its head and dozed off again.

With shaking hands, Goyle raised his wand a second time.

"R-RE-REDUCTO!"

Another weak light left his wand, but it missed the dragon by almost ten yards. Considering that Goyle only stood twenty yards away from the dragon, that was quite a feat.

Once more, Goyle shouted, "REDUCTO!"

This time, there was no light, neither weak nor otherwise. Instead, the boy's eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed, apparently due to magical exhaustion.

"And- oh! He's unconscious!" Bagman yelled. "That's unfortunate. The second Hogwarts champion is no longer able to compete! Dragon handlers, please remove the dragon! Healers, please take care of the boy!"

Harry laughed out loud, and Neville chuckled, too, while the dragon handlers and two healers rushed into the enclosure. Ginny and Luna just appeared relieved that there had been no bloodshed.

When the dragon was removed from the arena, and two wizards in healer robes had collected Goyle and levitated him back to the champions' tent, Bagman raised his voice again.

"Now, that was a bit disappointing. But let's keep in mind that Mr Goyle is only fourteen years old. I'm sure he did his best! Now, due to the number of participants, we will announce the scoring immediately after the task even if the champion is absent for medical treatment. Fellow judges, if you will?"

Madam Maxime wrinkled her nose and conjured a number one, and Crouch conjured a number two. Dumbledore, too, conjured a number one. Harry wondered about the uncharacteristic harshness shown by the Headmaster but then realised that Dumbledore probably disapproved of the violent nature of Goyle's attempted spell. Bagman then gave three points, followed by one point from Karkaroff. That was a total of eight points for Goyle.

The next competitor was Cedric, who had to get past a Swedish Short-snout. The dragon was over twenty feet long, had silvery-blue scales, and – as the name indicated – a rather short snout and forehead. The Hufflepuff transfigured a dog to divert the dragon's attention, but just when he had grabbed the golden egg, the dragon turned its attention back towards the boy and caught him in a burst of brilliant blue flames. Cedric was able to dodge most of the flames, but his face and hair was slightly singed when he got out of the enclosure.

He got seven points from Maxime, eight from Crouch, nine from Dumbledore and Bagman, and five from Karkaroff for a total of thirty-eight, landing him in the first place for the moment. A disgruntled Luna commented that he should have received far fewer points for endangering the poor puppy.

Next was Fleur Delacour with the Welsh Green. She enchanted the dragon to fall asleep, but while retrieving the golden egg, the dragon snored and let out a jet of flame that set her skirt alight. She was able to quickly extinguish the flames without suffering any injury – except the injury to her pride, that was, as with her burnt skirt, she gave a rather impressive show especially to the males in the audience. It turned out that the French girl's undergarments were surprisingly... impractical for a competitive event like this.

Fleur received seven points from Dumbledore and Crouch, nine from her headmistress Madame Maxime, and four points from Karkaroff. A very captivated Bagman gave her the full ten points, which put her in second place after Cedric with thirty-seven points.

The next dragon that was brought into the arena was over twenty-five feet long, but rather thin, with scarlet scales and a fringe of golden spikes around its face – a Chinese Fireball. Victor Krum was the one who had to get past this beast, and he did so by blinding it with a Conjunctivitis Curse. However, the painfully blinded dragon smashed half of its eggs as it stumbled around, which resulted in some point deductions for the Durmstrang champion.

Maxime and Dumbledore marked him with seven points, Bagman and Crouch with eight, and Karkaroff, biased as ever, gave his school's champion the full ten points. With forty points, Krum was the new front-runner.

"And now, we will soon see the second Weasley brother, George Weasley!" Bagman announced. "He will face the Peruvian Vipertooth! A vicious beast, let me tell you! How will Mr Weasley do, compared to his brother?"

Harry noticed that Ginny's complexion was turning pale once more as the dragon was brought into the arena. It had smooth, copper-coloured scales and short horns on its forehead. With a length of less than twelve feet, it was the smallest dragon of the bunch, but it was maybe the most aggressive. The dragon handlers had to conjure up several shields to protect themselves from the dragon's flames.

The handlers moved the dragon in position, which took a while, and then made a hasty retreat.

"Now, we all wish good luck to GEORGE WEASLEY!" yelled Bagman.

George walked into the enclosure and immediately had to dive behind a boulder to avoid the Vipertooth's flames. He raised his wand, and like his brother previously, he shouted, "Accio bait!"

Another leg of ham soon zoomed into the arena and towards George. But before the ham could reach the redhead, the Vipertooth lunged forward, seized the ham in its jaws and devoured it with one gulp.

For a moment, nothing happened, but then the dragon disappeared in a swirl of colours. In its place stood a small, yellow canary that chirped angrily.

The audience gasped, and many spectators burst into laughter; Harry, Neville, Ginny, and Luna amongst them.

"Incredible!" Bagman shouted, "Mr Weasley is on his way to the Egg, and... yes! He has collected it! Now, he only has to- OH! Careful now!"

Before George could reach the exit of the enclosure, the dragon had turned back into its original form. The enraged beast shot a torrent of flames after the boy, and George had to jump behind another boulder. He then sprinted towards the exit, and the dragon spouted two more bursts of flames towards the boy. George was able to narrowly avoid the first burst of flames, but he didn't manage to jump out of the way of the second burst completely. The dragon fire caught his left forearm, hand and robes just as he rolled out of the enclosure into safety. George cried out in pain but was able to douse the flames on his robes with quickly conjured water.

"Ouch! That must have hurt!" Bagman shouted. "But an impressive showing, nonetheless!"

"Ginny, you can watch again," Luna softly told Ginny, who had shielded her eyes with her hands during the Vipertooth's brief chase after her brother.

Madam Pomfrey and the two male healers rushed from the tent towards George to treat his burnt arm, while both teams of dragon handlers carefully approached and subdued the furious Vipertooth in the arena.

George was still treated in the tent when the judges announced his scores. He received the exact same total amount of points as his brother before him; with eight points from Dumbledore, seven from Maxime and Crouch, nine from Bagman, and four from Karkaroff.

The next dragon that was brought in was a truly gigantic beast. It had a length of over forty feet, metallic grey scales that were a bit brighter around its belly, and very long, nasty-looking talons.

"This beauty is a Ukrainian Ironbelly, the world's largest kind of dragon! As such, I'm sure that it will be a worthy adversary for our Minister for Magic, CORNELIUS FUDGE!"

To the loud applause of the audience, Fudge slowly entered the enclosure.

The dragon roared, and Fudge paled ghostly white. With a trembling hand, he raised his wand.

"OBLIVIATE!" he shouted.

What happened next, Harry would only come to understand much later. As the former Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, Minister Fudge was quite adept at memory charms. However, in his nervousness when faced with the gargantuan beast, he overpowered the spell a little. Instead of just making the dragon forget about its eggs, he wiped the dragon's memory completely blank. Thus, the full-grown dragon essentially had the mind of a dragon hatchling now.

As Hagrid would tell Harry sometime later, it was a little known fact that newly hatched dragons do something that occurs with several species of birds, too: The hatchlings 'imprint' onto the first being they see, which usually is their mother.

However, the first being the dazed Ironbelly saw when it had somewhat recovered from being hit with the memory spell, was Minister Fudge, who had just grabbed the golden egg from the nest.

With a wailing roar, that probably was dragon-speech for 'Mummy!', the Ironbelly lunged towards Fudge. The Minister turned and ran towards the entrance of the arena, but he wasn't fast enough and was toppled by the dragon.

Harry watched with horrification as Fudge was lying directly under the dragon, seemingly frozen with fear. The man seemed ready to pass out when the dragon lowered its head towards the Minister. The dragon was so close that its snout almost touched the man's head.

The dragon opened its jaws, and people screamed in fear.

But then, the huge dragon affectionately licked its tongue over the Minister's face and raised its head again.

Fudge took the opportunity to scramble up and hastily retreat out of the enclosure. The dragon tried to follow him but couldn't get past the magical barriers that enclosed the arena. Several times, it tried to advance unsuccessfully, while uttering wailing noises and making puppy eyes at the Minister.

The dragon handlers entered the arena to remove the dragon that started wailing even louder as it was further removed from the man it recognised as its new mummy. Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for the heartbreakingly wailing dragon as it was dragged out of the arena.

Then, it was time for the marks. Madame Maxime was first, and she conjured up a silvery number eight. After her, it was Crouch's turn.

Crouch sneered coldly at Fudge. He raised his wand, and conjured a silvery ribbon that formed itself into the number three.

"Bastard!" screamed Fudge from where he was standing, "When this is over, you're fired! You hear me!? Fired!"

Crouch just smirked at the irate Minister.

Dumbledore gave both men a disappointed look before he raised his wand and conjured a number nine. Bagman gave the Minister nine points, too, and Karkaroff gave seven points. In total, Fudge had received thirty-six points, which put him before the twins in fourth place.

The side entrance to the enclosure opened again, and the second-last dragon was moved into the arena. As Hermione would come last, this dragon would be the opponent for Vincent Crabbe.

It was a Hebridean Black. With thirty feet in length, it was a bit smaller than the Ukrainian Ironbelly, but Harry could immediately see that it was a much more aggressive kind of dragon. It was constantly roaring and shooting flames at the dragon handlers as they drove it into the centre of the arena. The dragon had dark, rough scales, ridges along its back, a spiked tail, and bright purple eyes.

Harry gulped. After the showing of Goyle, he wasn't confident that Crabbe would be able to face this dragon and walk out of the arena alive. He didn't like the Slytherin boy, but he didn't necessarily want to see him torn apart or roasted alive by a dragon, either.

When the dragon handlers were done pushing the dragon in the centre of the enclosure and had placed the nest, they quickly retreated to the side entrance of the enclosure.

"And now, a big applause for the fifth Hogwarts champion, VINCENT CRABBE!" Bagman announced, and all eyes turned towards the enclosure's main entrance.

A moment later, Crabbe walked into the arena to some polite applause. Harry was surprised that the Slytherin didn't show any nervousness, nor did he display any kind of boastful overconfidence. Instead, he almost seemed to be bored.

The huge black dragon roared when it spotted the boy forty yards away.

Crabbe stopped. He remained calm and levelled his wand at the dragon.

His face showed no visible emotion as he whispered, "Avada Kedavra!"

A bright green light sped towards the dragon and hit its torso, and the dragon collapsed lifelessly.

There was a collective gasp of shock in the audience, and then a long, complete silence, during which Crabbe strode towards the dragon nest, collected the golden egg and returned to the entrance of the arena's enclosure.

Harry was disturbed by the display. Since when could Crabbe cast spells like that? He had never shown any talent for spell-casting in his classes. But maybe it was different for Dark Magic? Harry remembered what Moody had told the class in the lesson on the Unforgivables. The curses required surprisingly little magical power, but instead, the caster needed to put themself into a certain mindset. On second thought, the Unforgivables were the perfect spells for a weak but cruel person like Crabbe.

"Well, that was unexpected," Harry mumbled.

Neville and Ginny nodded in agreement.

"I've never seen anyone with a worse Wrackspurt infestation than this person, whoever he is," Luna said sadly.

"It's Crabbe, fourth-year Slytherin," Harry muttered absentmindedly. "Do you think he will be in trouble?"

"No," Neville replied heavily, "The Unforgivables are only illegal when cast against a human. But I don't think he has made himself very popular with most of the students. Or with the Headmaster."

Harry glanced towards the judges. Dumbledore watched Crabbe with narrowed eyes, and Madam Maxime looked on with disgust. Crouch's expression remained stoic, while Karkaroff nodded appreciatively.

Bagman seemed shell-shocked, and it took him a long while to find his voice, during which Crabbe was idly standing at the entrance to the enclosure.

"Yes, well, Mr Crabbe kills his dragon with a Killing Curse," Bagman finally muttered with his enhanced voice, "While that wasn't exactly illegal, it's certainly not what we wanted to see here today... Let's see the points, shall we?"

Dumbledore immediately raised his wand. With a disappointed look at Crabbe, he shot out a silvery zero. Madam Maxime followed suit with another zero.

Then, it was Crouch's turn, who conjured a number ten. Apparently, he wasn't bothered by the use of the Unforgivable. Or he recognised that it was within the rules and didn't deduct points for it.

Bagman was next, and he fidgeted for a moment before he scored Crabbe with five points. Harry snorted scornfully at the spineless man's indecisiveness.

Karkaroff was last. With a respectful nod towards Crabbe, he conjured another number ten.

This meant that Crabbe had scored twenty-five points, landing him in the second-to-last place. The Slytherin received his scores without any visible emotion and only gave a slight, maybe mocking bow towards the judges before he left the arena.

Harry watched on with the frown while the corpse of the Hebridean Black was removed from the arena by the dragon handlers. But soon, he was no longer able to worry about Crabbe's behaviour because he had to worry about Hermione, instead, when her dragon set foot into the enclosure.

The Hungarian Horntail was roughly the same size as the Hebridean Black and seemed just as vicious and aggressive. It had black scales, bronze horns, and a spiked tail.

"Now, our last champion will face the famous Hungarian Horntail! Give it up for HERMIONE GRANGER!" shouted Bagman as soon as dragon and nest were in place.

Harry watched as Hermione approached the entrance to the enclosure to the cheers of the audience. Only when the audience had calmed down, she took two steps into the enclosure.

She slightly cocked her head to the side, a small frown on her face, and she raised her wand.

"Accio golden egg!"

The golden egg promptly flew out of the nest and towards her. She caught it in flight, looking slightly surprised that the spell had worked.

When Harry had suggested to use the summoning charm like that three days ago, Hermione had raised her eyebrows at him and stated that while wizards tended to be stupid, they couldn't possibly be that stupid. She had told him that, obviously, some kind of anti-summoning charm would be put on the eggs. However, Harry had convinced her that there was absolutely no reason not to try the spell. As it turned out, wizards really were that stupid.

Hermione shook her head and began grumbling to herself, her face showing a mixture of exasperation and contempt. Due to the complete silence of the audience, some of her mutterings were audible even in the stands.

"Really... who set this up... idiots... no hope for the wizarding world... no logic... stupid wizards..."

Harry laughed and started applauding, and his friends soon joined in. Slowly but steadily, the applause rose, though there were many confused whispers in the audience.

"That's it? A summoning charm?"

"That's what they brought in those dragons for?"

"Why didn't the other champions do that?"

Bagman also rose from his stupor.

"Uhm, well, Miss Granger completes the task in less than ten seconds with a simple Summoning Charm. Quite unexpected, I'd say..."

Hermione glanced over the spectators in the stands and smirked as she caught Harry's eyes. The dragon handlers, in the meantime, rushed back into the enclosure to remove the Horntail that hadn't even realised that it was missing one of its eggs.

"Yes, yes, the marks of the judges, of course," Bagman muttered after a long pause, "Madame Maxime, if you please?"

Maxime raised her wand, and after a short hesitation, she conjured a number eight. After her, a rather miffed looking Crouch grudgingly conjured a number ten. It was only fair, in Harry's opinion. The magic displayed by Hermione might not have been very impressive, but the objective of the task hadn't been to be as flashy as possible. Hermione had finished the task within the lowest time, without any injury to herself or any damage to the dragon and its eggs. There was no reason to deduct her any points.

Together with his friends and large parts of the audience, Harry cheered loudly when Dumbledore and Bagman followed suit with two more tens.

Karkaroff was last. He scowled for a moment before he conjured a silvery ribbon that formed a number four.

Well, that was to be expected, but Harry didn't let his good mood be diminished by the former Death Eater's petty bias. Hermione had scored forty-two points and was in the first place.

"Please excuse me, I have to get down there!" he said to Neville, Ginny, and Luna and raced down the stands and back towards the champions' tent.

#

Harry entered the tent just when Hermione was done assuring Madam Pomfrey that she was indeed quite unharmed. He ran towards his girlfriend and hugged her tightly.

"You were amazing!" he exclaimed and gave her a deep kiss.

Hermione returned the kiss happily, but she wasn't ready to accept his praises. "Well, I won due to the organisers' stupidity, not my brilliance. And don't forget that the spell was your idea!"

"Ah, you would have won regardless," Harry said confidently.

Hermione shrugged. "Maybe. I still can't believe that this worked. If the spells we have learnt in the last weeks weren't so useful for so many other occasions, I'd be feeling quite disappointed now for wasting our time with unneeded preparations."

Harry chuckled, but then his expression became more concerned. "Are the twins all right?"

"Yes, we are," a voice behind him answered.

Harry turned around and saw Fred and George, who were approaching the couple from behind. George's left forearm and left hand were wrapped in some bandages, but both brothers seemed to be in good spirits.

"Oh, that will be gone by tomorrow," George explained as he noticed Harry's look at the bandages. "No scars. Madam Pomfrey has saved the day once more."

"Ah, that's good," Harry said with relief.

"It was our fault, really," George said, "We kind of miscalculated the amount of potion needed to affect a dragon for a longer time."

"Though, in hindsight, we now know that the plan was unnecessarily complicated anyway," Fred continued with a laugh. "A summoning charm, Hermione? Really?"

Harry and Hermione chuckled.

"Blame Bagman, or Crouch, or whoever," Hermione said with a shrug.

"Well, anyway, congratulations on first place, Hermione!" George said brightly. "I think a victory party in the common room is in order?"

"Indeed, it is, dear brother," Fred immediately agreed.

"Sure, see you guys there, soon!" Harry said and took Hermione's hand. A victory party sounded good, but he thought that there should be a private 'victory party' for only the two of them, first.

With interlinked hands, the couple walked towards the exit of the tent.

"I'm very glad that you're all right, and proud of you for making first place!" Harry said towards Hermione. With a slightly lower voice, he continued, "I think now that you didn't get eaten by a dragon, it's only right that, instead, you should get-"

"Harry!" Hermione hissed, looking around with blushing cheeks.

"-Get many kisses from your boyfriend," Harry finished innocently. "What did you think I was about to say?"

"Oh, sure, let's go, you goof," Hermione replied with a laugh, shaking her head slightly.

They had just stepped out of the tent when Harry noticed one of the dragon handlers approaching them. It was a rather attractive witch with short auburn hair, clothed in dark dragon hide robes. What caught his attention, however, was the angry expression on the witch's face.

"Are you Hermione Granger and Harry Potter!?" the woman hollered as she was stomping towards the couple, wand in hand. "And where is this stupid reporter of yours!?"

Before the taken aback teens could reply, another dragon handler was rushing towards them and grabbed the witch's left arm. He wore similar robes, and his face was covered with scars. In his hand, he held an old shoe.

"Harmony, we have to go! Our international Portkey will be leaving any moment now!" the older man said impatiently and tugged her back.

"Not before this stupid girl and boy have become much closer acquainted with our Long-snout! And the reporter, too!" the irate witch screamed. Harry couldn't quite place her accent, but it wasn't British.

"Sorry, please excuse her, she's been in a terrible mood for several weeks now," the male dragon handler said towards Harry and Hermione while he held back his female colleague.

"TERRIBLE MOOD, I'LL GIVE YOU SOME-"

The witch and wizard disappeared in a swirl of colours. Apparently, their Portkey had activated.

Harry frowned and turned towards Hermione. "What the heck was that about?"

"I have absolutely no idea," Hermione replied, equally puzzled.

They shrugged, joined their hands and walked towards the castle for their well-deserved victory party.


A/N: Was it too easy for Hermione? Maybe. One might argue that the golden egg would have been protected from any spells cast upon it. And in fanfiction, it very often is. But that was never established in canon. It isn't the case in my story, and I'm certainly not the first author to ever think of it.
I mean, really, why doesn't Harry at least try to summon the Egg before he summons his broom in the book? The lack of common sense in the wizarding world is not only evidenced by the fact that the summoning charm might have worked but more importantly by the fact that none of the champions even attempt to summon or levitate the Egg to them. And if none of the champions thought of it, I don't think that it is too unreasonable to suggest that the organisers hadn't thought of it, either.