You guys, this is seriously PG-13, it's violent and stupid
and immature…just to warn you J. It's
supposed to be funny (I can't tell if it is or not) and Harry is extremely not
like himself. And don't even ask where
Harry learned to swordfight and stuff. I spelled "McGonagall" wrong, I just know it…sorry about
that… This story is the product of too
much caffeine and no sleep.
Written by: Rory Walton
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~~How the First Task should have been handled….Matrix
Style?~~
Harry stepped out from the
tent. The tent must have had a magical
silencer on it, because 1/8 in. of canvas couldn't possibly have blocked out
the painfully-loud growl that came from the stadium. Harry gulped, pushed his glasses back up on his sweaty nose, and
started walking towards possible death.
He rounded a bend on the dirt path, entering a clearing from the
trees. Before him stood the giant
dragon. Harry almost fainted. How could fifteen foot trees hide a more
than two-hundred foot dragon?
But Harry
knew in his heart what to do. He had
learned his summoning spell well. Poor
Hermione didn't know his real reason for that spell though… Harry smiled to himself and started laughing
(almost insanely). The crowed started
to give each other questioning looks.
Harry is going insane already? He's only 14…
Harry stepped forward (striding,
almost) so that he came within ten feet of the dragon's fireball range.
"Accio
Samurai! Accio cloak!" He shouted, holding both hands out. He waited patiently for a minute. Soon enough, Harry's cloak came floating
over the forest and into Harry's awaiting arms. The 'samurai' or whatever Harry had just said didn't seem to
come, but he looked to be unconcerned by this fact. Hermione and Ron just looked
at each other in horror. What the hell
was he going to do with his black cloak!?!? A school uniform one at
that? They had both seen Harry sewing
up his cloak time to time, but had both thought it was just because Harry had
ripped a whole in it or something.
Harry did have a small obsession with wearing his cloak, but since it
was almost always cold, they didn't really think it was odd. After all, Harry had never worn a magical
cloak (until he went to Hogwarts), and seemed to love how they had magical pockets
that held about 200cm3 in each side,
and many other nifty straps and buckles.
They watched as harry paced around the perimeter of the dragon's reach. His clothes now jiggled (with a sound
similar to the "coins-in-your-pocket-when-you-walk" sound, except slightly
different) each time he stepped. "Hey
wait… is that black leather he's wearing?!?" Hermione asked Ron. Ron's eyes grew wide and he slowly
nodded. Hermione watched as Ron's face
turned green. She, on the other hand,
thought that Harry looked extremely good wearing tight leather, unlike
when stupid Draco tried. I mean, if you
have nothing to show off, why try? She
shook her head to get that nasty picture of Draco-in-tight-leather out of her
brain. Besides, Harry looked like he
was about to do something.
-----------------------------------------
Harry
reached into his cloak, crossing his arms as he did so, and (with a metallic
"shiiing" that rang like a pure angel's bell through the silence) quickly
pulled out two sabers – one in each hand.
He weaved them through the air, warming up his arms and hands and
preparing to fight.
-----------------------------------------
"Ok, WHY does Harry have
knives? He's not supposed to hurt the
dragon! Is he a wizard or not? Where the hell is his wand? What kind stupid
little man is he?" Hermione shouted.
Then she turned to Ron as he was about to answer. "Don't answer that! It was a rhetorical
question!" She snapped. Ron turned back to watching Harry,
astonished at hearing Hermione talk like that.
Better keep out of it he wanted to propose to her some day… She was one
to keep grudges some times. He could
just see a 30-year-old Hermione (uncharacteristically, of course) throwing a
chair across a room because she broke a nail opening a beer bottle. He broke out in a fit of giggles. Hermione just glared at him out of the
corner of her eye.
-----------------------------------------
Harry twirled the blades in his
hands and then flipped them so that they were upside-down with the sharp edge
facing outward. He rushed the dragon,
running at full speed toward the eggs.
The dragon, having watched Harry's whole macho "pacing" thing, was
completely ready. It blew a huge flame,
right at Harry. Unfortunately for poor
Robert (Dragons have names too, you know!) Harry wasn't there. He had done what looked like and expert roll
in the middle of his charge. It almost
looked like he tripped, but he had rolled sideways and had tucked his elbows in
and pointed his knives out in what only could have been a practiced move. He was on his feet again, quicker than a
cheetah* ( *an old cheetah, that is,
having only 3 legs and with severe arthritis and inflamed joint-pain. Oh, and with a fifty pound weight on top of
it). Anyways, he was up again, knives
back like before (like a serpents' closed fangs? I really need a comparison
here…) and with an ugly layer of dust on his black cloak.
Harry brushed off some of the dust
from his shoulder, giving the dragon an icy stare. How dare he try to kill ME, Harry! The nerve…Harry ran
again, sweeping from side to side to make a harder target, slowly gaining the
distance on his way to the eggs. The
dragon roared at Harry escape, and swished it's spiked tail in Harry's
direction. Harry just ducked and held
his blades up. The Hungarian Horntail
screamed it's reptilian scream and thrashed in anguish. How dare this little boy hurt ME! The nerve…Harry dashed closer to the
eggs, his cloak flapping in the wind caused by his haste. He wiped the dragon's blood from his eyes
and face as he ran. A shadow appeared
above Harry, blocking out the sun, making him stop running. Suddenly the dragon's teeth came down –about
to clamp on Harry's head. He made a
split second decision to stick his sabers strait up. But instead of stabbing out the dragon's eyes or some amazing,
heroic, win-the-battle-right-before-your-about-to-die thing, Harry's now
pathetically small blades were crushed in the dragon's massive jaw. They caused no more that slight indigestion
(later, of course) to Robert the dragon.
But it was enough time for Harry to dodge the monster's bite. However, he now had a deep cut over his
eyebrow from a ricocheting piece of his saber.
Blood once again dripped down his face (the crowed "ooo"-ed and
"aaah"-ed when they saw his cut) except this time it was his own (blood). He felt his wound and realized how it would
heal to make a different scar (uglier, of course) on his face. Now no one would recognize him! Stupid dragon! He'd probably break out in pimples all over his face too because
of the dragon's blood earlier. Now he
was really pissed!
His eyes visibly narrowed and he
assumed an aggressive stance. He
flipped back the sides of his cloak to reveal a short sword in a sheath on his
left thigh. He waited for the dragon to
advance. Robert didn't need to take his
time. He stomped towards Harry and
released a large fireball while running.
Harry had forgotten about fireballs…but it's all the same. He grabbed for the sword with his right hand
and then jumped in the air, twisting about (his cape/robe twirling behind him
and making an audible "swoosh" sound) to face the dragon better. Time seemed to slow as he turned. He whispered an incantation as he brought
his sword up, still flying through the air.
The hilt glowed with a blue luminescence as soon as Harry landed, soon
spreading to the blade and to Harry's hands.
Harry kept his head bowed, eyes closed, feet apart, and continued his
chanting. The fireball hit, with the
crowd at the edge of their seats and Harry standing still with the sword in
front of him. The blue glow formed a
bulge of light around Harry, shielding him from the flame. The fireball passed by and around him in a
matter of seconds, the blue glow disappearing as the flame retreated. Harry looked up and opened his eyes. Hey! He was still alive! Cool…He
looked down at his sword, now burnt to a crisp and glowing red-hot. His hands were burnt and blistered, his face
and clothes covered in ash, and his hair smoldered. He smiled. Robert just
stared in amazement. Then his dragon
senses took over and he realized something:
Oh crap. That was supposed to
kill him, wasn't it? The dragon watched as Harry tossed aside his sword
(making a dill 'thud' as it hit the ground and slid in the dust a few
feet). Harry was breathing hard and the
dragon could almost see fire in Harry's eyes. This is definitely NOT good…
Harry stood up strait, facing the
dragon. He unhooked the clips that were
holding on his robe and flung it aside.
The crown gasped. Prof. McGonagall
(spelling on that?) couldn't help but
shout, "Now this is enough!" But she didn't dare run out there and tell Harry
and the dragon that. Hermione silently
checked if what Harry had was illegal to carry on Hogwarts property. Yep, it was. But so was everything else he had used, too. Harry reached both hands over his head and
behind his back. He threw his shoulder
forward and used the momentum to pull out a 5 ½ foot broadsword from his
back. It was obvious Harry had put a
lightening spell on it, or his thin frame couldn't possible have held it, but
it was still heavy. Harry started
running, at first pointing the sword behind him and to his left side (holding
it with both hands), and gradually brought it up in an arc from behind his back
to over his head and right shoulder. He was then the target of another fireball
assault by Robert, but was ready for it when the first one came. He had already been charging up his blue
glow shield. He continued the arc, twisting his upper half to the right and
swinging the sword horozontaly at the fireball, like he was playing
baseball. He went with the momentum
(not being able to stop it except in a way that would cause extreme bodily
harm) and continued to swing the sword around circles over his head and hitting
the next three fireballs (oh, and spinning & jumping around like in all
those karate movies). After the final
hit, he forced the momentum to move the sword up vertically, stopping it's
swirling and enabling him to twist his wrist in a small circle, make the point
curve over his head-- and back into it's sheath. He charged like a bull then, strait at the dragon. When about ten feet from Robert's leg, Harry
did a flip in the air, reaching down into his boot and retrieving his throwing
blades. He landed with a puff of dust,
twisting his ankle in the process (hey, he's not perfect!). He stumbled into a heap, smashing
uncomfortably into the ground hard and scraping his forearm on a few rocks
(getting dirt and pebbles imbedded in his skin). Robert smiled his scaly smile.
He might win after all!
Harry hid the throwing knife under
his stomach and he lay on the ground (he had dropped his second one when he
tripped). Hopefuly Robert liked live
meat, not charred stuff. Yup, here his
big ugly head came.
"Hey, Mr. Dragon." Harry said.
You couldn't exactly be quite as macho when there was this huge,
fire-breathing thing right next to you. Robert smiled and did what you could
only guess was laugh. Lunchtime…. Harry looked up at the dragon. Almost…almost…Yes! He rolled to his right, just as the dragon took a big chomp
(missing Harry by millimeters). Anyways, Harry rolled to his right and on to
his back, holding up the throwing blade in his hand. "This is for messing up my face!" Harry yelled. He twisted his shoulders back and hurled the
knife at Robert. The crowd gasped and
the shinning blade when strait for Robert (who was still laughing). Ron even fell out of his seat, but never
took his eyes off of it. Robert opened
his eyes just as the blade hit him… in the eye. He keeled over (in shock?)
and fell fight onto the pile of eggs.
Harry just laid there stunned. Ooops… did he do that? Hehe. He looked around the audience, stood up and
took a little bow. Hehe, he sure showed them…
Prof. McGonagall
(is that still spelled wrong?)
Came charging up behind Harry. "Killing
the dragon? Squshing all the
eggs? And BRINGING ILLEGAL WEOPONS
TO SCHOOL! Detention mister Potter! And your lucky if we don't throw you
out! Why I never… And don't give me
that look! Just because he was trying to kill you, doesn't mean
that you can kill him!" She now had him by the ear.
"Ow! Owwie! Ack, stop!"
"You'll be
scrubbing trophies for years…"
"But…But I… I won
the tour-"
"Do…. You… Think…
I… CARE?"
So poor Harry had to forever clean trophies and
teach all his little groupie followers how to do cool martial art moves. Hehe, some ending huh? I probably could have done better, but…eh,
too much time had been used already.
"Too…much…caffeine…..Ack!"
Love, Peace and Chocolate Chips!
