Chapter 13 - The First Task

Nov. 23rd, 1994

I did have a nightful of sleep, very contrary to my expectations. AND I know how to deal with that dragon! Here is how this revelation came to me:

After I had been tossing and turning on my bed for some time, Margaux, who couldn't sleep either, because of me, finally got fed up and came over to me.

"Before I kill you, stop that racket, and go to sleep!"

"Very funny," I replied. "What do you think I've been trying to do for the last couple of hours? Though, perhaps, the killing part might not be such a bad idea after all."

"Rubbish! I know exactly what you need."

She murmured the lighting spell, and I sat up in my bed, blinking at her.

"So you can't go to sleep, eh? I don't say I blame you, really. But there's something we can do about this. I don't suppose you've heard about the Somnium Spell, have you?"

"Somnium? I don't think so. It's seventh year stuff, right?"

"True. It can backfire easily, and hit you yourself, that's why they reserve it for last year. But it works very well, and I think I'm rather good at it. So if you like me to help you get some sleep tonight, I'll give it a try..."

"Yes, by all means! What do I do?"

"It works by eye contact." She took her wand, and started waving it slowly in front of my face. "Just follow the movements with your eyes; focus on the wand ... easy ... somnium ... somnium..."

The next thing I remember was bright sunlight in my eyes. Margaux was standing next to my bed, grinning widely.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty. That worked like magic, didn't it?"

It took me a minute or two to realise I must have slept like a log for about eight hours.

"That was amazing!" I told her enthusiastically. How come I've never heard about that spell before? You'll have to - "

And it struck me.

"Do you think this works on dragons too?"

"What?"

"The only weak spot of a dragon is their eyes, and that spell of yours works through the eyes, too. Do you think it would work?"

"Hmm, I've never heard of it being used on a dragon, but I suppose it might be an idea. Yes, I should say it's definitely an idea," she added after a pause.

"Will you teach me how to do it?"

"Yes of course. But let's have breakfast first."

+++

As we were not excused from regular lessons, we had to practise in the spare time between them. We skipped lunch and would also have skipped dinner, but Maxime would have nothing of it.

"You can't stay away from dinner just like this two evenings in a row, " she said impatiently. "And it's especially important that you go today. People might get the impression that you are making preparations, and you're not supposed to know anything to prepare for."

"What hypocrites!" I said to Iphigenie, as we trudged up to the castle. "Who do they think they are fooling? EVERYBODY knows, really!"

At the Ravenclaw table, Cho and Cedric looked at me with a weird expression.

"Which one would you prefer, Cedric?" I asked in a clumsy attempt at a joke.

His eyes went round. "Which one what?"

"Come. Which dragon, of course!"

Both their faces relaxed visibly.

"So Harry's been right," he said, "You do know. Why are you talking about it? It's supposed to be a secret."

"Don't be ridiculous. All the headmasters have told their respective champions, haven't they?"

He looked at me blankly.

"Headmasters? No, it was Harry - Harry told me. He said Maxime and Karkaroff had seen the dragons, and would tell you and Krum. And he said it was just fair I should know too."

Now it was my turn to look blank.

"You mean it's all unofficial?"

"Of course it is. You don't imagine Dumbledore bending the rules like that, do you? We were wondering what to say to you; you know, we couldn't know if Harry was really right..."

"I believed ... I mean, I wanted to talk to you about those dragons after Maxime had told me, I wanted things to be fair, you see, ... but then I found out Harry knew, and Krum knew... so I thought you also knew... so there was no need for me to ... you do believe me, don't you?" I ended somewhat lamely.

"Of course we do," Cho touched my arm reassuringly. "Can you tell us a bit more? Harry only said it was dragons."

"Maxime did an Imago Charm, so I even saw them. There are four different ones. A Hungarian Horntail, if I remember correctly, a Welsh Green, a Swedish one and a Chinese one; I forget what they are called exactly."

"A Chinese dragon?" Cho's eyes lit up. "A Fireball?"

"Yes, that's what Maxime said."

"Oh they are about the most beautiful kind of dragons! And very fierce!"

"What a relief!" Cedric said sarcastically. "I've always wanted to have my ass burned off by a beautiful dragon."

"Do you have any plan how to deal with the beast?" Cho inquired. I must have frowned or something, because she hastily added: "No, I don't meant what you're going to do, really, that would hardly be fair, would it? Just have you thought of anything yet?"

"Actually, I have, but I'll have to do a lot of practising still. How about you, Cedric?"

"Well, I've got a rough idea, but I still need to work on it."

"Good luck, anyway. So you are saying Harry Potter found out about those dragons all by himself? How did he do it?"

"I've no idea. There are rumours, you know that he owns an invisibility cloak - "

"Really? How did he get it? They are very rare, aren't they?"

"Nobody knows. And mind you, it's just one of the many rumours about him, perhaps it's not even true."

"But it would fit in nicely with the other things you've told me about him. But even then, someone must have told him where to go and look for them."

"Very likely. Hey, he and his friends use to hang around with Hagrid a lot! And he's known to have a thing for the more vicious kind of creatures. Wouldn't be surprised if it was Hagrid who told him..."

"He did show them to Maxime, at any rate..."

"So why not tell Harry, too? And it would work just as well without the invisibility cloak."

"Doesn't matter, anyway, does it? It's a fair deal, finally, and that's what's important. Funny, isn't it, that if everyone cheats the same way, it's just the same as if there'd been no cheating at all?"

"Not quite," I replied, grinning. "It does make a difference whether you do or don't know what's in store for you."

"Although I'm not quite sure if that change is for the good," Cedric added wryly.

+++

Nov. 24th, 1994

10 a.m.

Only some four hours. I'd better write this down now, as long as I still can... And it will ease my mind, I suppose.

Margaux, Iphigenie and I practised the Somnium Charm until late into the night. In the beginning it took me up to ten minutes to put my partner to sleep, and Margaux was not happy about that.

"Dragons are much resistant to spells than humans," she said after I had woken her up with the help of a wet towel for the fourth or fifth time. "You need to do this in no less than thirty seconds on a human, to stand any chance against a dragon. With one of them, it'll probably still take ten minutes or more. Try again."

So I tried again, and again, and again, until, around two in the morning, she was satisfied.

"I think you've got it," she said, exhaustion in her voice. There's quite a good chance now that you get past the beast without any problem. Now go to sleep, and don't wake up until morning. - Somnium!"

+++

Maxime has cancelled our lessons for today, but I'm not sure whether this is a good idea. It gives me more time to think of those giant flame-throwing lizards...

Evening

I can't describe how I feel - elated and worn out, wide-awake and dead tired, with a sense of unreality as well. I could have that Charm put on me again, of course, but I want to write all this down and relive the most spectacular experience of my life.

Shortly after lunchtime, - not that I could eat anything, - I noticed that everything had turned strangely quiet in the carriage. Just as I was starting to wonder where everyone had gone, Maxime came up to me.

"It's time," she said with something almost like sympathy in her voice. "Let's go."

We walked across the grounds in silence and I believe she was almost as nervous as I was.

Only once she turned to me to ask if I had an idea how to deal with the dragon.

"Yes," I replied, hardly recognising my own voice. "That is, I hope it works."

She made no further comment and presently we turned an edge of the forest, finding a large tent in front of us, blocking any view of the dragons we might have had. From behind the tent, however, unmistakably, an occasional roar that must be the dragons could be heard.

"You are to wait here, together with the other champions," Maxime told me, shoving me towards the entrance of the tent. They will tell you all about the task in there. Oh, and good luck."

In a less tense situation I would have been surprised at the sound of her voice, but at the time I had different things to worry about. I nodded shortly, and entered.

Inside the tent, Viktor Krum was already standing in a corner in his usual surly manner, hardly glancing up when I entered. Cedric was also there, pacing up and down the length of the tent. He gave me a small nod but his face was rather tense.

I sat down on a small wooden stool in one of the corners, trying to compose myself but without much success. And when the entrance of the tent opposite the one I had entered by opened, I jumped.

But it was only Bagman, the ministry official, beaming with his usual immature self-assurance.

"Well, well, well," he said jauntily. "Everyone eager for the first task? Let's see... Mr. Potter is still - "

He was interrupted by the other entrance opening and Harry Potter coming in.

"Harry! Good-oh!" Bagman shouted with an enthusiasm that seemed somewhat out of place. "Come in, come in, make yourself at home!"

Now the inside of that tent was about the last place anybody would make oneself at home in, to say nothing of the occasion we were all in, but the absurdity of his phrase never crossed his mind.

Now he held up a small sack of purple silk. "In this bag," he told us, " there are models of the thing you are going to face. And your task will be - to collect the golden egg!"

So the dragon was guarding a golden egg, just as Maxime had predicted, probably in a nest of its own eggs; and if anything, a nesting dragon was the one thing even more dangerous than a normal one! I looked at the others; Krum did not show any reaction at all, Cedric had gone slightly green, or so it seemed to me, whereas Harry was white as a sheet and was staring ahead of him with a forlorn expression. Again, it struck me how small and helpless he looked. I don't want to imagine what I must have looked like, I just realised I was trembling all over.

Suddenly, the noise of hundreds of feet approached and went past our tent, the spectators who were now flocking towards the scene; they were talking excitedly, joking, and in the best spirits.

The noise hadn't quite died down, when Bagman opened his silk bag.

"Ladies first," he said to me in that annoying cheerful tone, holding the bag out to me.

I put in my hand and pulled out a tiny model of the Welsh Green. It must have been nerves, of course, but I had the distinct impression that there was a malevolent glint in its eyes as it hissed at me and a tiny flame came out of its mouth as it sat there on my hand. There was the number two round its neck. At least I'd not have to wait too long.

Krum drew the scarlet Chinese Fireball with number three, Cedric got the Swedish dragon with number one, and finally Harry pulled out the last one, the Horntail, numbered four. So the youngest champion had got the fiercest of the dragons.

"When you hear the whistle, just go out into the enclosure," Bagman said. "Mr. Diggory, you're first... "

He then left the tent, and told Harry to come with him.

A minute or two later, the whistle sounded, and Cedric, still somewhat green in the face, stopped his pacing and left the tent. A moment later, Harry came back inside.

There was a roar from the crowd, screams and yells. The most terrible thing was that there was no way to know what was going on outside. Unable to bear the tension any more, I got up from my stool and took up Cedric's pacing, round and round the tent. Snatches of Bagman's commentary made it even worse. Words like "narrow miss!" or "he's taking risks!" or "Clever move - pity it didn't work!" did not ease the tension either.

It can't have been longer than ten or fifteen minutes, but it seemed endless. Then finally, a tremendous roar from the crowd signalled that Cedric must have reached his aim and grabbed the golden egg.

There was comparative silence for a couple of minutes, while the judges seemed to be giving their marks, but all too soon the whistle sounded again, and Bagman shouted:

"Miss Delacour, if you please!"

Holding my head high, or as high as I managed, and generally trying to look more confident than I felt, I stepped out of the tent.

Stands, occupied by hundreds of spectators formed a semi-circle in front of me, a sea of faces that were no more than a blur. An excited hum was in the air.

And at the far end of the enclosure, perhaps fifty metres away, it was waiting - the dragon! Although I had seen it in the picture Maxime had conjured up, the real thing was very different. The sheer size of the beast took my breath away for a moment. A compact mass of power and fury, - yet strangely beautiful with the shiny green scales glittering in the pale afternoon sun.

Holding on tight to my wand I slowly advanced toward the dragon. The bright yellow eyes in the huge lizard-like head were fixed on me unblinkingly, and it was all I could do not to turn and make a desperate dash back to the tent. As I was coming nearer, I saw that there was a nest of several grey-green eggs behind the dragon, and presently I could see the golden egg shining among them.

When the distance to the dragon was only some twenty metres, I started waving my wand the way Margaux had shown me. At first the beast showed no reaction at all, until I realised that my movements were probably too small. So I started waving in a way that must have looked perfectly ridiculous, a full arm's length to the right and to the left, and high above my head. All the while, I kept saying the spell: "Somnium - somnium..."

Just as I was nearing the critical distance within which a sudden spurt of flames would have reached me, the dragon, whose head had been shifting irritably al the time, unsure whether to leave the eggs and to pounce on me (luckily, it seemed to have decided that the eggs were more important), started getting quiet, and after a minute or two more, the gigantic head drooped, its eyes closed and it was asleep.

With a sigh of relief, I rushed forward, towards the nest. That was a mistake; I had diverted my attention from the sleeping creature for a moment, and so the gust of flame that suddenly came out of its mouth completely took me by surprise. I could just make a desperate dive out of the way, but the hem of my robes caught fire. There was a collective scream from the spectators, and for a split second I felt petrified with shock. But then I found my wits again.

"Pluvius!" I shouted and extinguished the fire with a shower of water from my wand.

Not knowing how deep the dragon was sleeping, and not keen on finding out, I made a final dash forward and could grab the golden egg.

Not a moment too soon. While the audience broke into applause, I saw the dragon stirring, and clutching the egg firmly, I sprinted across the enclosure, and with smoking robes reached safety, just as the beast, fully awake again, let out a deafening roar and sent an enormous stream of fire in my direction.

While the dragon-tamers subdued the Welch Green with their Stunning Spells, and finally took it away, I sat down on a bench next to a second tent; I found myself shaking from head to foot, more so than I had in the tent, and it was quite some job to get back my composure.

A middle-aged witch in white robes came bustling up to me out of the tent.

"Are you all right?" she asked. "Let me have a short look at you - "

"Yes, I'm ok," I panted. "Thank you, I'm just catching my breath. Is Cedric Diggory all right?"

"He's got a nasty burn, but nothing I cannot fix. Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"Yes, thank you very much, I'm fine."

When 'my' dragon had finally been removed, I could see the judges sitting on golden seats at the other end of the enclosure.

"Watch out," the nurse said. "They're giving their marks."

And indeed, from their raised wands I could see numbers floating up into the air.

Maxime - ten

Crouch - nine

Dumbledore - nine

Bagman - five

Karkaroff - four

Which makes it a total of 37.

Now the Chinese Fireball was brought into the enclosure, the whistle went again, and Viktor Krum came slouching out of the tent. His face was quite expressionless, perhaps a bit whiter than usual. He went slowly up to the dragon, which was watching him intently, an occasional cloud of smoke coming out of its nostrils. Suddenly, with a movement so quick that I didn't even see it before it was already over, Krum had whipped out his wand and shouted a spell that I couldn't hear, sending a flash of purple sparks at the dragon's eye. The dragon gave a horrible piercing shriek, - the spell must have hurt its eye badly, - and began trampling around in obvious agony, not minding where it was going, and smashing several of its eggs in the process. With the same amazing swiftness, Krum darted towards the golden egg, several times only very narrowly escaping being squashed to pulp by the madly moving beast. I'd never have expected anyone to be able to move so fast; and in another minute or two he had grabbed the golden egg and returned to safety.

Again, the dragon and the remaining eggs were taken away, and the judges gave their marks. Unsurprisingly, Karkaroff gave his own champion the maximum of ten points, and his total came up to forty.

The last dragon, the Horntail, was brought into the enclosure, the whistle went one more time, and Harry Potter stepped out of the tent.

He looked very small and very vulnerable standing there in the enclosure, facing the gigantic Horntail, and I was holding my breath, waiting to see what he was going to do.

He raised his wand, shouting something that I couldn't hear in the noise of the crowd, and then kept standing there motionless, waiting.

Suddenly, a shadowy streak was hurtling through the air and - a broom came to a standstill in mid-air next to him. As if waking from a trance, Harry took hold of the handle, mounted, and kicked off.

It was amazing. The small-terrified boy had gone; the flyer on the broom was an altogether different person! As if he had never done anything else, he was steering the broom high up into the air and towards the waiting dragon. The Horntail's head followed him, and a great gust of flame soared up to the place where the tiny speck of the flyer had been only a second before. Another dive - another narrowly missed spurt of fire, - the Horntail's spiked tail was swishing through the air madly, from where I was sitting, I couldn't be sure, but it seemed as if it had hit the flyer's shoulder, - the crowd screamed, -

Harry changed tactics now. He started circling higher and higher, the dragon following his every move with its eyes, and irritated furling and unfurling its wings. I knew what he was trying to do: He wanted the dragon to rise into the air to go after him. Being much swifter on his broom than the creature, it would not be too hard for him to get at the egg once the dragon had left the ground.

More flames shooting into the air, easily dodged by the flyer on his broom; if I hadn't known how serious it was, I'd almost have thought Harry was enjoying the game he was playing with the dragon, which now, finally, with an exasperated shriek, spread its huge wings wide and rose into the air.

In a spectacular dive, Harry Potter shot down towards the nest of eggs, at an absolutely incredible speed. Just when it seemed sure he was going to crash into the eggs, he pulled out of the dive, and taking off both hands from the broom handle, seized the golden egg. And before the dragon had even realised what was going on, he had shot off out of the enclosure and finally landed in safety.

Several of the Hogwarts professors were hurrying towards him, and he was taken to the first-aid tent next to where I was sitting. There was a dazed look on his face, as if he had not quite realised what had happened, and he had a cut on his shoulder with blood oozing through. Quickly, the nurse pulled him into the tent.

Soon afterwards, Harry's two friends, Ron, the red-haired git (as I like to call him by myself) and the bushy-haired girl with the death glare, Hermione, rushed into the tent, too. And, funny enough, I felt suddenly lonely. Nobody was coming to see how I was; nobody seemed to care whether I was alive or dead. And I found myself envying The-Boy-Who-Lived for the first time. (Of course I've found out in the meantime that Margaux and Iphigenie were stuck somewhere among the spectators, with no chance to get over to me, but that's how I felt then.)

A few minutes later, the girl, Hermione, came rushing out of the tent again, dissolved in tears. I still have no idea what was the matter with her. From the way she normally behaves, I'd have thought she was the last person to get hysterics.

Shortly after this, Harry emerged from the tent, carrying his broom over his shoulder and the golden egg in his other hand; Ron was at his side, talking fast, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. Probably he was telling Harry what had happened to the other champions.

In due course, the judges started to give their marks for Harry's performance:

Maxime - eight

Crouch - nine

Dumbledore - nine

Bagman - ten

Karkaroff - four

Which gives Harry a total of forty, thus tying him for fist place with Viktor Krum.

After these last marks had been given, we were ushered back into the tent again, where I saw Cedric again for the first time since he had left the tent to face his dragon. One side of his face was covered in some orange stuff, so I guessed he had been injured. However, he was grinning widely, and seemed to be perfectly happy with himself.

Bagman appeared in the tent a second later, and told us that the second task is going to take place at half past nine in the morning of February the twenty-fourth (they do have a thing about that twenty-fourth!) and that the golden eggs contain a clue that we need to solve to be able to do that task.

+++

At dinner, the atmosphere was tangibly relaxed. Cedric, Cho and I discussed the judges and the marks they had given.

"It's all right, I suppose, for a headmaster to favour their own champion, " Cedric said thoughtfully. "But Karkaroff was overdoing it shamelessly. Ten points for Krum, and a lousy four for all the others! How low can you sink?"

"I think Bagman was also somewhat strange," I added. "He gave Harry ten, even though he got hurt, and he only gave you - what was it?"

"Seven."

"See? Krum and I only got five, and we did not get hurt, but I suppose you could attribute this to him being biased against the foreign champions. But if he is just (very clumsily) trying to favour Hogwarts, why didn't he give you ten as well, or nine at least?"

"Perhaps he's in love with Harry," Cho said with a smirk.

"Poor Harry; he deserves better."

+++

Back in the carriage, I had, of course, to show the golden egg around.

"Open it!" Iphigenie insisted. "Let's look for the clue!"

After some attempts, I finally succeeded. It was perfectly empty, but the moment I opened it, the most terrible noise I ever hope to hear filled the room. It is an awful screeching and wailing that had a ghostly air and does not bear the slightest resemblance to any words in any language that I have ever heard of. I closed the egg hastily, and the noise stopped.

"What's that?" Margaux asked breathlessly. Nobody said anything.

"If that's supposed to be a clue, it will take some time to work it out," Armand said.

"That's why we have got three months to do it," I told them. "And that's why I'm not going to give it any more thoughts right now. If you'll excuse me, I feel a bit tired..."

+++

I suppose I can be quite satisfied with today's work. True, I'm last with my thirty-seven points, due to that nasty cheater Karkaroff, but that's still only three points less than Harry's and Krum's forty. So I guess there is still a chance for me... Funny, if anyone had told me that only twelve hours ago, I'd have thought they must be mad, and now -

+++

A/N:

Wow, what a long chapter! Tanks for reading

Thanks also to my faithful reviewers

Lu - Roger "was stunned by his good fortune" at having Fleur as his partner, and he was wearing a "dazed look", so your "block of wood theory" doesn't seem to apply. It's more like he's busy with other thoughts and images in his mind, and I'll see that I can use some of these. Thank you a lot for the long notes and suggestions. As you will have seen, I have already taken up some. Of course I know Zimmeron's great Hermione story; unfortunately he seems to have stopped writing; and perhaps the greatest of all are Arabella's four parts of Hermione's diary. About the title: AGED 16 34 is supposed to be 16 3/4, (with Sue Townsend's Adrian Mole diaries in mind) but for some reason the stupid computer programme has made it 16 34. I did try to change it but it didn't work. There's no way I'd try to describe Fleur's career up to the age of 34! Yes, F/H does have its appeal, and indeed this is what I'm secretly aiming at. There are terribly few Fics of this kind around, and most of them are absolutely out of character, too. The point is, of course, to make it plausible how the two of them can get together, and most fics just ignore it. PS: It would be great if you could give me your email address, I'd love to talk to you directly. PPS: Yes, I know you are not WickerBasket; it was just that the two of you came up with similar ideas.

Molassesturtle, DonutMan – Thank you.

WickerB – Thanks for the suggestions. Canary Creams on Veelas! The can turn into birds anyway – so how would that work out???