Disclaimer: All references to Draco, Harry and JK's wonderful Harry Potter Books belongs to JK Rowlings.
Thanks JK
DRACO MALFOY AND THE GOBLET OF FIRE
By Lady Lestrange
Chapter 5
Draco's Unlikely Helpers
When he returned to his dorm room, he had twenty messages that told him that both Fleur and Krum knew about the dragons. It was a good thing that Draco was taking this seriously. Neither of the other Hogwarts contestants—he refused to call Scarface and Pretty Boy champions—seemed to be making much effort. There were several more notes with suggestions about how to get past the dragons. None of the ideas seemed as good as the one he already had. He just had to see Professor Snape about the potion. He took Vincent and Greg with him before breakfast and headed to Professor Snape's office. He couldn't trust Vincent and Greg to do this correctly, so he had to oversee it.
"Professor Snape," Draco began. "Vincent and Greg here wanted to know if there is a potion that could make someone be able to fly—uh—fly fast."
"I'm quite sure there is," His mentor said, "But I think they'd rather learn about the Drought of Sleeping Death potion.
Draco knew that the Drought of the Sleeping Dead, was one of Snape's favorite potions. He wasn't sure though that it was the best potion for the dragon. What if the judges thought he killed the thing? He would lose points. He told Snape his thoughts on the subject.
"Not a problem, Mr. Malfoy." said Snape in that slow drawling voice of his. "Dragons are huge animals. To actually make them look dead, you would need to feed them about 3 liters of the potion, and I'm not sure they would cooperate in drinking that much. This little bit will just help put the dragon in a sounder sleep when used with the Sleeping Charm. Without the Sleeping Charm, you will only have about 10 seconds when the dragon is inattentive due to the Draught of the Sleeping Death Potion."
Draco nodded. It sounded like a good plan. "I think Greg and Vincent would love to learn that potion," said Draco.
"Huh?" said Greg.
Draco sighed. "They were born with doses of the Sleeping Death in their mother's milk ," he quipped. "Their brains haven't awakened yet!"
"Would you like to learn this potion?" Draco asked Vincent slowly as if he were talking to a three-year-old
.
"UH- no, you said--"
Draco kicked him. "He would love to know," Draco said with a look of exasperation.
Professor Snape opened one of his potion books to the Drought of Sleeping Death Potion.
Draco leaned in over Professor Snape's shoulder to read: --a powerful potion. Just a few drops and creatures as big as –dragons would be fast asleep in an instant—without the annoying snores and bursts of flames that were possible with sleeping spells. However, dragons metabolized any potion relatively quickly, which meant, you only had about 60 seconds of sleep per liter of potion. A few drops in a vial were only enough to make the dragon blink. Hopefully, Snape was right and it would be enough.
"This potion is pretty complecated," said Snape. "But I've just decided to allow my seventh year Slytherins to brew it under my supervision—for extra credit—tomorrow—7:00--if you would like to sit in—well—I certainly can't stand in the way of a student's quest for knowledge.."
"Thank you, Sir. I'd like that very much," said Draco and he headed up to breakfast.
After his first period, one of his fellow Slytherins, a second year that he didn't know, caught him in the hall. "Potter knows," he said, "And he just told Diggory."
"Why in the bloody hell did he do that?" spat Draco.
"Stupidity, I guess. He was muttering something about not wanting his worst enemy to face the dragons without knowing—"
"I notice he didn't tell me," snapped Draco irritated. Then he thought of something. "You're sure Potter already knows?"
"Absolutely. He also knows there are five of them. He saw them."
"Potter and his bloody invisibility cloak!" said Draco. "Ok. Thanks."
"Good luck, Draco."
How many times did he have to tell them that luck had nothing to do with it?
Draco looked for Potter at lunch, but he wasn't there. Neither was the Mudblood. Perhaps they were practicing some spell. That seemed likely. The mudblood had to teach Potter how to get past the dragons.
Obviously, his brains leaked out of that scar and he needed the Mudblood to hold his hand—his wand hand--
Draco finally caught up with Potter as he headed for Divination. Draco had made a special trip up to the tower to find him. "Potter," he said seriously. "I've been looking for you all day—"
"Whatta ya want Malfoy?" Potter snapped.
"I wanted to tell you what the first task is—"snapped Draco right back. "But maybe you don't want to know. I wouldn't want my worst enemy to meet up with them unprepared—but I guess, I was wrong. You and your goody, goody, Gryffindor sense of honor. You can go ahead and be the only Champion that doesn't know. I-hope-they-fry-you."
"Draco," began Potter "I'm sorry—"
Draco gave him a slow appraising look—up and then down-- "You certainly are—" he said haughtily. "They're dragons."
"Thanks."
Draco turned and hurried away down the stairs. He had just insured that Potter would tell him anything he knew about the NEXT task. And made Potter feel like a guilty heel for not telling him this time when he thought everyone else except Draco knew about the dragons. And it cost him absolutely nothing. It was worth being a few minutes late for class.
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