I'm sorry about the fiasco last night. I honestly thought I had uploaded this latest chapter, but I'm not sure if it was me or not because of the lateness of the hour.


The Treasure Hunter.

Harry sat in the tent awaiting the First Task, in the midst of fulfilling a promise he had been trying to keep for the last month after his name was drawn out of the Goblet, while he ignored the other Champions and the reporters who were loitering outside. They had been shouting and yelling out questions which did not do the Champions any good. They were nervous enough as it was, and they didn't need the jabbering of those idiots outside to make things worse.

After it had gone on for a few minutes, Harry had decided he'd had enough, and so he had placed a strong silencing ward around the tent to get some peace. The funny thing was the reporters didn't realise it.

For the last few weeks ever since the night, he had discovered the dragons Harry had been training himself, looking up useful spells to help him perform the Task well. He had a few plans in mind that needed to get to the egg and he hoped they worked out after he had researched the dragons and their weak points although he had no intention of fighting off a fully-grown dragon. Harry might be a thief, but he wasn't suicidal. In any case, he preferred brain rather than brawn.

While he had been practicing with his spells and taking a look at his ideas and even testing them out as best as he could, Harry had also experimented with Gillyweed, using the Prefect's bathroom. From what Lily had placed in his memory, the bathroom was an elaborate place where prefects could just bathe, but she and her son had discovered it was more than that. The bathroom was a dimensionally transcendental spa, complete with swimming pools, bathtubs, hot tubs, saunas, and even a gym and a massage parlour. Somewhere along the line the prefects had commandeered the place and called it their own when it was painfully obvious the place was for the entire school.

Harry had just decided to ignore it.

He had no problems breaking into the bathroom and using its facilities. He wasn't worried about one of the prefects finding him, either. With the Marauder's Map to let him know if there was anybody nearby and his skill of invisibility spells, Harry found it straightforward to keep one step ahead of the line. He had also been researching the breeds of dragon nesting mothers brought to Hogwarts, and he had devised a plan or two for all of them so he was prepared.

After days spent researching Harry had decided it was time for him to relax, and so he had forced himself to read the muggle novels he had brought with him for this year. When he had seen he had only three days left to go before the First Task, Harry had imposed a short break where he would read his books.

Reading had been a passion of his for a long time, inherited from his mother. Growing up he had read as many books as he could lay his hands on for his quest for knowledge and adventure, which had inspired him to become a thief. Harry had never regretted his decision to become a criminal and a tomb raider like Belloq from the Indiana Jones franchise, but he would always love reading.

But lately, since the Triwizard Tournament had begun and he had started reading again, Harry had yearned for peace and quiet without having Dumbledore's petty schemes like the one involving Rita Skeeter bringing him down. The basilisk's skeleton had been displayed in the Hall at Gringotts for four days following the Weighing of the Wands. The revelation of a basilisk in Hogwarts was terrifying enough. Basilisks were living war machines, with their venom being enough to kill hundreds of humans at a time, but that was nothing compared to its death stare. The idea of something like that in a school was chilling, and there were now calls for Hogwarts to be cracked open to see if there were other hidden hazards. So far nothing had come from those calls. Personally, he hoped it did.

The visible sight of the basilisk's skull with its long fangs quickly shut up anyone who claimed he was a liar, and he got a really nice cut of the profits.

As he sat as far from the other Champions as he could, using the book to help him relax while he thought through his ideas for how he was going to deal with the dragon, Harry was busily enjoying reading how HG Well's The War of the Worlds was progressing. Originally he had planned on reading the novel after he had finished The Invisible Man, but in truth, he had wanted a more action-orientated story to help him relax. He found it appropriate it was War of the Worlds, somehow.

But lately, ever since the year had begun, and his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire, Harry had been debating with himself if he even wanted to remain in the magical world of this damn country. In the end, he had approached the goblins for advice but he was a long way off from forming his own decision.

Anything to just get some peace and quiet and do whatever I want whenever I want, and not be a pawn in someone else's game.

Still, at least this time he had a good idea of what was coming and he could live with that.

"How can you be so calm?" Harry looked up and smiled at Fleur Delacour, who'd asked the question.

"I'm sorry?" He asked.

"I asked how you can be so calm?" Fleur's lilting French accent was perhaps the most musical thing he had heard all day so far. "Aren't you nervous?"

"Petrified," Harry confessed while he gazed at the French witch honestly while being aware both Krum and Diggory were listening in to this discussion. "There are many ways you can deal with worry. You can pace up and down, bite your fingernails until you draw blood, or you can try to relax. That's what I'm doing. That and reading this book."

Fleur couldn't help but smile. She was reminded of how her sister Gabrielle was never able to sit down and wait patiently, and yet this boy who was only a few years older than she was wiser than she was. "What's the book?"

Harry showed her. "HG Well's The War of the Worlds. It's a muggle science-fiction novel of an invasion from Mars."

"Invasion from Mars?" Fleur's voice was filled with scepticism. It was ironic but many witches and wizards did not believe in extraterrestrial life despite the diverse forms of it on Earth.

"Yes."

"Why are you reading it?"

"Three reasons, Miss Delacour. First, I like reading although most of the things I like to read are more geared for fiction and practical arts rather than anything else. Second, the story is by an author whom I'm very interested in. Third, I brought a small collection of muggle books with me as I have done for the past few years. I usually bring a collection of novels, poems, and short story anthologies with me so I can learn what other people are thinking about as they put their ideas into words," Harry gently placed the bookmark into the spot, guessing he wasn't going to have much more opportunity to read. "There are many things you can learn about an author when you read their work."

When the tent flaps opened and Dumbledore strode in, killing the conversation there and then although he received a definite look of interest in the eyes of the French champion and he realised he had won her interest with that little explanation. Dumbledore was being closely followed by his competing headteachers, and an entourage consisting of Crouch and Bagman stepped in, Harry closed his book and, with a wave of his wand, banished it back to his dorm and he stood up.

He had to admit to himself the way the Champions were meant to find out which dragon they were meant to deal with was the most logical, and he had watched patiently as the others picked out their own dragons, mentally crossing which species the individuals belonged to before he was left with only one.

Harry had not been happy when he had received the Hungarian Horntail. From what he had learnt, it was perhaps one of the most ferocious breeds in the world; powerful, aggressive, possessing a nasty weapon in its tail which gave it the perfect name.

He could have done without the wait, but it gave him plenty of time to focus on his plans now he knew which of the dragons brought into the Tournament he was going to be facing. While he waited, Harry focused on the occlumency training he'd taken and strengthened his barriers while he fought the urge to be sick.

The idea of facing a dragon was a nightmare. He wished he was robbing a bank, breaking into a house, or raiding a tomb filled with treasure. But, he had to admit, this was going to be a challenge. And he liked challenges. He only hoped he lived to reach a good age. All his life Harry had longed to have a good life, with a wife or a girlfriend, with children. However, if he were a weakling then he would have wondered if it would even happen.

But he would get to live a good life.

He would win. By any means necessary. And if he had to kill everyone in the castle to get what he wanted, then so be it. Finally, it was Harry's turn. As he stepped out of the tent into the arena, ignoring the boos and the cheers while he cast his eyes over the landscape of the arena. He sniffed the air, wrinkling his nose at the stench. The air was thick with the scent of burning ashes mixed with sulphur, and something sickly. That and the pervading smell of something like burning diesel oil offered a truly nasty stench.

Pushing that aside, Harry looked around the arena for the dragon, slipping his wand out as he moved around the arena…and then he spotted the large cluster of eggs. As large as basketballs, a dull polished jet black in colour in complete contrast with the gleaming golden egg in the clutch. But there was no sign of the dragon.

Not good.

Taking a deep breath to try to steady his nerves while he reinforced his mental barriers, Harry stepped forward slowly before he stopped and he went very still so he could listen.

Something didn't feel right. It was just too quiet, and even the crowd had gone quiet but since they had a more commanding view of the arena, he felt they were looking down in anticipation. Everything about this screamed ambush to him, and he didn't like it.

With a sigh, Harry cast his patronus charm.

It was an odd tactic to use in a Tournament like this, but he had learnt patroni were extremely versatile charms. They could be used to deliver messages although most wizards didn't bother and relied on owls instead.

But since they were tied to emotions and the mind of the caster, they could also be used to greater effect. Mentally he commanded the patronus to fly around the arena, looking for the dragon.

"Oh, my… is the Boy-Who-Lived using a patronus to fight the dragon?!" Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice called out over the arena. "I must say, it's a very odd thing to do!"

Harry sighed, hoping the patronus got back to him soon about the dragons' whereabouts. He wasn't particularly interested in hearing the opinions of such a flamboyant imbecile like Bagman. But he heard a rumbling, not unlike the hiss of an alligator mingled with the rumble of a volcano. It sounded like the patronus had found the dragon, and it was quiet. The closeness of the sound made Harry look above himself, and he saw there was a large rocky hill.

Steam was coming over the edge, or was it smoke?

Realising the dragon was right above him, Harry decided that the dragon expected him to make a move, so he should just give the creature what she expected. Casting a very strong flame-freezing charm he knew would protect him from the worst of the dragon's fire, Harry moved towards the nest slowly while he kept an eye out on the hill.

This was suicidal and the kind of foolhardy Gryffindor move he had been trying very, very hard not to do ever since he had been sorted into that thrice-damned house, but he needed to see the dragon directly for any of his plans to work so there was not much choice. As he walked towards the nest, making sure to swing his body around so he could get a good view of the hill of rock above him so he'd notice if the dragon was moving, he saw the plumes of smoke rise higher, becoming thicker.

"Come on, damn you," Harry whispered.

He got his wish when the Horntail suddenly bellowed and took flight when he was closer to the nest. Harry barely had time to move, and he threw himself to the ground. Wincing as the jagged pieces of rock and flint cut into his skin although he quickly ignored the pain of the nicks, Harry lifted his wand, hoping plan A worked.

Everyone spectating the event - teachers, foreign dignitaries, politicians, and students, and champions - were expecting the Boy-Who-Lived to cast some kind of super curse at the dragon, so they were surprised when instead a deep, lilting melody began to play out over the arena. As the music played out, they saw the effect the music was having on the Hungarian Horntail.

The dragon was moving around swaying its head to the music with an almost delirious, glazed look in its predatory reptilian eyes. As the minutes passed in front of the stupefied audience, who was so stunned by what was going on and thankfully Bagman was not commentating since what they were seeing was unprecedented, they watched as the dragon calmly went to sleep. Not once did Harry release the spell. He kept it going while he moved towards the nest again.

Now all he needed to do was get the egg.

Simple?

But he had a problem.

He couldn't get to the golden egg, not without clambering into the nest and picking it up. The idiots behind this stupid and dangerous shebang had placed the egg on the very top of the pile, and there was no way he couldn't get to it without stepping on the eggs themselves and using them as stepping stones. He didn't want to crush the eggs, although if he was honest with himself he knew he couldn't say how thick the eggshells were.

He didn't want to know, either.

He hated injuring animals, particularly young ones. He remembered when the little fucker Peter threw a stone that knocked a robin chick out of its nest and it nearly killed the poor thing. Harry nearly killed Peter that day, and so he didn't want to be a hypocrite now.

Knowing the flaw of his plan was to cancel the spell already playing, Harry got into position quickly. Making sure he had a good view of the Horntail in case it woke up and saw him, Harry cancelled the music spell; he wished he had brought something he could use to keep the dragon subdued, but at the time it hadn't occurred to him to bring something like a harp or a violin.

As soon as the spell was cancelled, Harry turned his attention to the egg. He cast the levitation charm quickly, mentally counting down the seconds before the dragon woke up.

The spell failed.

FUCK!

With a snarl of anger and frustration, Harry quickly pulled out of his pocket a small broom. Quickly he resized it, mentally thankful he had shrunk it down to put in his pocket instead of leaving it somewhere in the castle so it didn't contravene any of the Tournament's rules. When he had discovered the task, Harry had decided to add the broomstick to his arsenal. There had always been the possibility none of his previous ideas would have worked, so he had opted to keep a broomstick shrunken in his pocket just in case. He'd had the insane thought of flying around the arena, chased by an enraged dragon, or something along those lines, while he tried to reach the egg.

After swiftly mounting the broomstick, Harry quickly flew towards the egg, keeping watch on the dragon. He had reached twenty when the dragon started to stir. Moving quickly, Harry grabbed the egg and flew back to the ground. Hardly spectacular, but it saved a lot of time. When he flew back to the ground, the dragon began growling as it woke up. Harry quickly reapplied the music spell, making it louder and slower, more hypnotic.

The dragon began to become mesmerised again like she had before, but this time she tried to fight the spell. In response Harry just increased the spell's power, adding more variety to the melody to make it harder for the dragon to resist. It took a while, but the dragon succumbed to the melody again and it fell asleep. But Harry didn't dare move from the spot he was standing on for a few moments before he hefted the egg and somehow juggled it with the broomstick he was holding before he slowly made his way out of the arena.

The crowd cheered, and Harry heard the sound of Bagman's voice. But he didn't pay any attention to it. He just walked back to the tent with the egg, but he didn't go straight inside. He just found a nice enough rock and he sat down on it. He closed his eyes and sighed with relief.

One task over, two more to go.

But he knew, lurking in the shadows, his enemy was out there. Harry would wait, he would prepare. He would grow stronger.

And then… he would kill Lord Voldemort once and for all.