AN: I do not own Harry Potter.


Chapter 20 - Playing With Fire

Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione sequestered themselves in the classroom Harry used for dueling for the rest of the weekend, only coming out to use the bathroom, eat, or go to bed. They went over everything they could find about the dragons Harry saw, the different dangers each possessed, and tried to come up with ways to counter them.

"Distance," Neville muttered. "You don't want to be anywhere near the dragon if possible."

"Broom," Ron announced. "Use your Firebolt to keep away from it."

"That'll make hitting any spells against its eyes even harder," Harry countered.

"Practice," Ron shrugged.

Harry snorted, but he could see the wisdom in his friend's suggestion. "When the dragon flies at you, then you'll want a way to get away," Hermione agreed. "I agree with Ron. Use your broom to keep a safe distance away. Since we don't know what the task will involve, let's go with the worst-case scenario. That you somehow need to subdue the dragon."

Harry nodded. It's what he'd been planning on doing in the first place. "The flames are going to be the hardest part to avoid," he grumbled as he stared at an image of a dragon burning a house. He might have a way to block a dragon's fire, but he didn't have a way to test it.

"Yeah... I haven't come up with an answer for that," Ron sighed as he looked over his notes.

"Dragon fire is as volatile as it is potent," Neville said as he flicked the end of his quill against his chin. "That one book said the best thing to use was natural earth to mitigate the flames when building a cage."

"The wizards with Charlie had them locked up in wooden enclosures," Harry mumbled. "They must be reinforced with magic or some other material."

The conversations went on for hours as everyone tried to think of some way to mitigate the danger Harry would face. By Monday morning, Harry had a long list of things to try. Hermione declared that their help was done, however, and he was a Hogwarts Champion. When Harry shot back that he didn't want to be one, she still stood firm on her decision.

"Harry, it isn't fair to the others if you get all this help. I agree that you don't want to do this, and shouldn't have even been entered, but the fact remains that you are a champion now."

Ron and Neville wanted to keep helping Harry, but after thinking it over, Harry agreed with Hermione, if not for the reason she stated. Since he was given a chance to display his magic, he would use it to shock and awe the school. He wanted to participate and do well. Better than the older students could do if he was able to pull it off.

With less than a week before his date with a dragon, Harry bucked down and practiced the spells he thought would come in handy against his task. Some of the more complex charms and magic took up a lot of his free time, but he felt at least moderately comfortable that he'd be able to perform them in front of a crowd without messing up too badly.

Sirius contacted Harry on Tuesday and said something that threw a wrench into some of Harry's more elaborate plans. "Listen, I want you to finish the task with as little display of magic as possible," his godfather said with an unusually serious expression.

"Why?"

"Because you're about to have a lot of eyes on you. There are plenty of people who wouldn't mind your disappearance, especially if you show them that you're as good as you are. Harry, the stuff you know now are things that your father and I learned as we were graduating from Hogwarts and even a little after that. While you don't have the range of knowledge that we did back then, you are certainly well ahead of us back then in Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Maybe even Potions," Sirius finished with a frown.

"Not Transfiguration?" Harry laughed.

"No, you've got a ways to go before you catch up. You're about where James was at your age, so don't look so crestfallen. Now, what have you come up with?"

Harry pursed his lips. "Can I keep it a surprise?"

"I'd really rather you didn't. I want to sleep at some point before this bloody tournament is over."

Harry wasn't sure what to think about his godfather losing sleep over him. That didn't seem to match Sirius' carefree nature. "If things go south, I'll use the Firebolt to keep away from the dragons," he sighed.

"Good plan. Conjunctivitis Curse to blind it?"

"I had a different plan. If the dragons are asleep..."

"No, do not trust that. Dragons are extremely resilient to Sleep Spells. It takes a good deal of magic to make one fall asleep. Better to blind it. A Severing Charm would do the trick."

"I'm not trying to permanently harm the dragons."

"They'll be trying to permanently end you," Sirius countered.

Harry and Sirius talked for a little while longer about different things Harry should try. What his godfather came up with was about the same things his friends suggested, except Sirius didn't care if Harry injured or killed the dragons.

In one of the largest dungeon rooms the next afternoon, Harry managed to enchant a transfigured sheet of parchment to flit around the domed area. He wanted to work on his aim while standing still, running, and eventually while on a broom. The idea came from Ron talking about how fast the Snitch was. After looking through the Library, his notes, and a few books from his growing collection hidden in his trunk, Harry found a spell that might work.

"Stupify," he cast as he pointed his wand at where he thought the parchment would be. The spell missed by a wide margin. Harry grunted and set his shoulders. It was time to practice.

Harry wasn't the only champion who looked distracted. Even the Daily Prophet news that Madam Rosmerta, the owner of the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmead, was being arrested for smuggling dark artifacts couldn't break Harry's concentration for long. Cedric had a permanent scowl at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Other Ravenclaws and even Fleur tried to talk to him, but he waved them off. Miss Delacour, for her part, remained a social butterfly. She flitted from table to table, but Harry noticed that the Veela witch always tried to talk to the other champions, himself included. He knew she was trying to find an edge over them but didn't seem to be getting anywhere. Risto and Krum didn't interreact with the Hogwarts students and rarely spoke with their fellow Durmstrang students. If anything, the pair spoke with their male counterparts from Beauxbatons more. Pascal Dupont made his rounds as well, but it was obvious the rich wizard disdained those in Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. Dupont and Malfoy spoke a lot inside and outside the Great Hall.

Harry used the Maurader's Map whenever he could. So far, he'd seen several Ministry witches and wizards speaking with Professor Davies, Dumbledore, and Professor Moody. Something was going on, and Harry thought it might be Moody's questionable teaching at the start of the term. Daphne Greengrass was another reason Harry watched the Map as much as he did. She was a social butterfly in her own way. The heir to the Greengrass House met students of every year and House around the castle with her sister, Nott, Davis, or Zabini with her. It appeared that she'd formed an official alliance, as the four students were never far from each other.

Something that surprised Harry was that he saw Draco and Astoria together a good bit as well. Malfoy walked Astoria to her class and was one of the first to meet her when she was free in the afternoons. Harry knew something was going on there but he wasn't sure what to make of it. Mr. Greengrass hadn't answered his letter when he explained the situation behind Rita Skeeter's article.

On Friday, the entire school buzzed with excitement about the next day. Harry skipped all of his classes and eating in the Great Hall, preferring to ask the house-elves for food to take back to his room in the dungeons. The entire day he practiced what he wanted to do against the dragons. Rubble littered the floor, soggy, burned parchment decorated the walls, and several large gouges split the flagstones on the floor when Harry was ready to leave for the night. He took a deep breath, gathered the spell in his mind, and waved his wand. "Reparo," he intoned as his magic filled the room.

"Harry, where were you all day? I know you said you wanted to practice, but you're drawing a lot of attention to yourself," she hissed.

"I didn't want to deal with another double Potions. That, and I've made some serious headway with my Transfiguration work," he beamed.

"I want to hex that smile off your face," Hermione huffed, but he could tell she didn't mean it. She was just nervous. At least, he hoped she didn't mean it. "I brewed a Calming Draught if you want it to help you sleep," she said as he took out a small bottle.

"I'm honestly good," Harry smiled. He felt as confident as he could be.

"Oh good," she sighed before opening the stopper and downing the potion in one go. "I think I'm going to go brew another for tomorrow. Get some sleep," she muttered as she shakily went up to the Girl's Dormitory.

Harry watched his friend leave and wondered what was going through Hermione's head. "She's just worried for you," a soft voice said from an alcove. He turned to see Ginny sitting against the window seal. "I am too. I can't believe..."

"I'll be fine. Dumbledore won't let anything happen to us," Harry interrupted with a quick glance around him. There were a few other Gryffindors in the Common Room, but most seemed to be engrossed in their own conversations and tasks.

"Right," Ginny nodded. "Get some sleep. I think I want to watch the stars for a little longer."

Harry shrugged and went to bed. Ron and Neville were waiting up for him. "Do you think you're ready?" Ron whispered as Nevllie clapped Harry on the shoulder.

"As ready as I can be," he whispered back.

Sleep was a long time in coming. Harry wasn't fretting about the task or the dragons he'd be facing, but he couldn't help but continue to imagine scenarios where his magic failed him. Ron shook him awake the next morning. "Mate, you'll want to eat a little something," he said by way of greeting.

"Thanks."

Harry ate with the others in the Great Hall. He ignored the jeers and rude comments from the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs when they saw him. Professor Davies and Snape sat together, talking low and glancing in his direction. After barely eating a piece of toast, he saw Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout leave the High Table. The Transfiguration Professor looked at him. He stood. "I'll be off," he said as he straightened his robes.

A chorus of "good lucks" and "you've got this" from his friends made Harry feel a little better. When Professor McGonagall reach him she gave him a thin-lipped smile. He'd skipped her class the previous day. As they walked toward the Entrance Hall, Harry felt like he was floating along, aware, but unaware of what was around him. It felt surreal and yet somehow right.

"Now, don't panic," Professor McGonagall coached as they stepped out into the cold November morning. "Keep a cool head... we've got mediwizards standing by to control the situation if it gets out of hand. The main thing is to try to do your be..." she continued, but Harry let her words wash over him.

"Are you all right?" the professor's voice said when they stopped near the Forbidden Forest.

"Yes, quite. Just want this to be over."

Professor McGonagall muttered something that he missed. A large black dog appeared out of the trees a couple hundred feet away from them. Harry smiled. The professor led him through the edge of the forest and toward the enclosures that held the dragons. The path was widened from the last time Harry had been there. As they passed a stand of thick trees, Harry could see into the clearing. Where there were three small enclosures before, now a massive wooden structure stood that resembled a Quidditch Stadium. A large purple and white tent stood to one side of the stadium, and Professor McGonagall led him toward the entrance.

"Good morning!" Ludo Bagman greeted as Harry entered. Krum, Fleur, Pascal, and Risto all waited inside. Drink, food, and desserts were prepared for them on a long table at the back. Six small rooms with white drapes lined the left wall of the tent, each containing one cot.

"Morning," Harry greeted as he made his way further into the magically altered tent. It was much bigger on the inside than it was on the outside.

No one spoke as they waited for Diggory, that was, except for Bagman who seemed to want to ask everyone questions. He flitted around like a Snitch as he first tried to engage with Krum and then Fleur. Harry watched, slightly amused by the Senior Ministry Official. Ludo's behavior was childish without being annoying.

"Harry," Bagman greeted with a huge smile. "Just the man I wanted to speak to," he boasted as he took a seat beside him. "Tell me, do you know what's coming?"

Everyone in the tent looked at Bagman and Harry. "I have a decent guess," Harry answered with a shrug. "Those roars can only come from one creature. Dragons."

"Ah, there you have it! The youngest and brightest champion," Bagman laughed. The other champions scowled at Harry. Cedric walked in with Professor Sprout. Bagman bounced up and went to greet the newcomers. It gave Harry a moment to look over the foreign champions. Krum and Fleur didn't look surprised by his announcement. However, what was most telling was that Risto did look shocked. It was hard to tell what Dupont thought, as he kept smiling the entire time.

"Right-o," Bagman said once Professor Sprout left. "In about two hours the others will join us. I wanted to give each of you a chance to talk, mingle, and think about the task ahead. I won't tell you what the task is, but yes, it does involve dragons. You missed that bit, Mr. Diggory," he apologized with a wave of a hand. "Anyway, there are three species of dragons out there that you will face."

That got everyone's attention. Dupont's smile slipped. " 'Ve... 'vill face all?" Fleur asked.

"No... you'll face one dragon each. However... depending on your luck, the dragon may have already faced another champion before you. That is why I am here now. To draw your lots," Bagman gleefully said as he took out a sack. Something moved within the leather. "One at a time stick your hand in. Ah... let's do it the way your names were announced, shall we?"

Harry watched as Risto Starc, his hand trembling slighty, pulled a Swedish Short-Snout with the number one on the side. The tiny dragon blew little gouts of fire at Starc's wide eyes.

"See that number one there? That'll indicate which round you'll be in. The first round will be easier," Bagman gleefully announced.

Fleur went next and was careful about sticking her hand into the sack. She conjured a dragonhide glove with her wand. Cedric looked impressed, and so did Dupont in his own way. She got a Welsh Green with a number two on the side.

"Second round, Welsh Green. Tough luck there. Cedric, my boy. It's your turn." Cedric pulled the other Welsh Green. "Ah, good, good."

Krum went next and put his hand confidently into the offered leather bag. He yelped and drew back his hand a moment later. Harry saw a tiny Chinese Fireball latched onto Krum's finger with its teeth. He winced. "Wonderful, wonderful!" Bagman cried. "Krum will face the Chinese Fireball in the first round."

With only two left, Dupont reached in and grabbed something in the bag. He pulled the second Swedish Short-Snout. Harry knew what he would face. The Chinese Fireball in the second round.

"Mr. Potter, it seems you know what is left. Go ahead and take it," Bagman beamed. Harry did so and felt pressure between his thumb and forefinger. He lifted the miniature dragon and looked into its eyes. The fake Chinese Fireball reared back and tried to send a jet of flame at Harry's face but he quickly turned the dragon's head away with a flick of his finger. The lance of fire dissolved into nothing.

"Right-o, right-o! You all have your designations. Now, for the last little bit of chance before I let you think for a few hours. Each of you will draw a number, from one to six. That will be the order you go in," he clapped as six cards appeared on a table by the entrance. "This time we'll go in the opposite direction. Mr. Potter, your first."

Harry stepped up to the blue, flower-patterned cards and pulled the second from the last. A rune for the number five was embossed in black around the golden card. "Ah, bravo! You'll go fifth. Now, Mr. Dupont!"

Harry watched as the others drew their cards. Risto would go first, followed by Fleur. Then Cedric. Harry wanted to curse when Krum pulled the number four card. It would mean Harry had to face the Chinese Fireball right after whatever Krum did to it. Pascal would go last.

Ludo threw another twist in the order when he announced that Fleur and Cedric would switch positions, as the dragons they drew had specific numbers on them. Harry thought the official was just having a laugh with the selection process, but he couldn't be sure. That meant the final order would be Risto, Cedric, Fleur, Krum, Harry, and finally Pascal.

"You have two hours to go over various things in your mind on how to get around your opponent. Yes, get around. You do not have to defeat your dragon, but it might make things easier," Bagman chortled. "Good odds on Krum taking his dragon down," he laughed. Harry wondered if he wouldn't have to face a dragon if Krum managed to kill or incapacitate his dragon. "Now, I'll come back to let you know what your task is. No questions for now. Your trial started as soon as you took your dragon from the sack. May the best witch or wizard win today," he grinned before leaving.

Harry looked at the other champions. "Well..." he muttered.

"I suppose it could have been worse," Risto muttered. He looked a little green. The Durmstrang student wasn't the only one who looked off-color, Cedric and Fleur had pale complexions. Krum seemed wholely unaffected by the task ahead of him. Harry wondered if Karkaroff, a Death Eater, let his students practice the Dark Arts on dragons.

Harry sat on the cot in the small room marked with the five rune. He became aware of something immediately. There was no sound outside the room. He stuck his head out just to confirm his suspicion. Bagman and the other judges were going to keep the champions in the dark about what happened in the stadium. Harry supposed it made sense, to make it fair for anyone going after the first champion, but he wasn't sure what to think about waiting his turn in silence.

Harry didn't eat or drink. He wasn't sure if the table of food was part of the task to lure unsuspecting champions into a false sense of security. It was probably that voice in the back of Harry's mind he associated with Professor Moody, but he couldn't ignore it. Krum and Pascal didn't eat either, but Fleur and Cedric drank juice and ate a little bread and cheese. Risto seemed lost in his own world as he stared up at the tent ceiling.

Harry had a dark suspicion that Karkaroff hadn't told his second champion what the task involved. The Durmstrang wizard was the only champion there who didn't know about the dragons. Cedric caught Harry's eye and nodded once before glancing toward Risto. Harry understood and nodded back.

Two hours felt like a long time as Harry was left with his thoughts and the growing commotion outside. He could hear students walking past their tent, a few excited or terrified screams as they reach the stands, and even a few calls of encouragement. As the time for Ludo to return approached, Harry felt detached from those around him. He was excited to start the task and finish it, no matter the outcome.

"Champions!" Bagman greeted as he entered the tent with a bounce in his step. "Come, come," he laughed. When the champions stood before him Ludo gave them all a big wink. "You've had time to think about what you'll face. Now, I'll tell you your task. All you have to do is get a golden egg."

"What?" Cedric asked when it became clear Bagman wouldn't expound on the topic.

"Just that, get the golden egg. Now, in twenty minutes Mr. Starc, you'll walk out of the tent and turn left through the hall. Mad-eye Moody will wait for you there and direct you into the Champion's Room. There, you'll have ten minutes to prepare yourself before the first round. As Mr. Starc begins his dance with his dragon, the next champion, Cedric, will move into the Champion's Room.

Harry felt a rollercoaster of emotion as he listened to Bagman. He wasn't sure if he liked the idea of listening to Krum's duel with a dragon while he waited. Bagman left with a parting, "good luck."

Time seemed to fly by as the hour approached. Risto left first. Harry listened to Bagman speaking to the audience about the champion's task. A roar of excitement and shouts drowned out all other noise. It became clear why when a thunderous roar shook the stadium. They'd released the dragon.

It was hard to hear what happened in the stadium, as the crowd watching yelled, screamed, clapped, and laughed in what seemed like wave after wave of noise. Harry couldn't hear Bagman or his commentary unless the tent door was open. Those brief moments made Harry realize that someone had enchanted the tent to filter out his voice.

"Are you ready for this?" Cedric whispered.

"As close as I ever get," Harry muttered back.

"I'm next. Good luck."

"You too."

When it was Harry's turn, he left the tent and blinked as the sunlight blinded him for a moment. "...is trying to get around..." Bagman said over a gasp from the audience. If anything, the noise level was louder than it was inside the tent. Professor Moody waited for Harry at the entrance to the stadium.

"Ready, Potter?" he growled, his electric blue eye spinning in its brass socket.

"Yes," Harry found himself saying.

"Good, keep your head about you and play to your strengths. Good luck."

Harry entered a spacious room that reminded him of the Gryffindor Locker Room at the Quidditch Stadium. Professor McGonagall and Rita Skeeter were waiting for him. Harry suppressed a groan and calmly strode over to the arguing pair.

"...will not take pictures before the match," Professor McGonagall said, her eyes flashing.

"I am with the Daily Prophet, and we must have pictures," Rita countered.

"Pass," Harry stated as he drew his wand. Skeeter looked over at him before her smile froze. "Please leave, I have to get ready for a task. You are interfering with a Triwizard Tournament task and are attempting to assist a champion."

"What?" Skeeter demanded.

"That's what I'll tell Bagman and the other judges. That you tried to feed me information for an interview. Leave, please," he reiterated with a wave of his wand. The door opened behind him. Harry heard Professor Moody's peg leg stomp closer, even over the din of noise from the crowd above him.

"You will not hear the last of this," Skeeter threatened as she left.

"I should go up. She tried to sneak in here," Professor McGonagall said. "For the record, I would like to say Miss Greengrass is a good match for you, Potter," she added before leaving with Rita.

Harry snorted and shook his head. He hadn't expected that from Professor McGonagall of all people. "... sure that was wise!" Bagman said over Harry's thoughts. "Oh... nearly now! Almost there! Careful! Careful!" the official bellowed over the crowd. A roar of excitement shook the stadium as what sounded like thousands of feet stomped on the wooden platforms. Harry knew Krum got the egg.

It took some time for the cheering and excitement to calm down. Harry felt his legs shake a little as he paced the floor. It would be his turn soon. Minutes crawled by that felt like hours. Finally, a loud boom echoed around the stadium, and the double doors at the far end of the room opened. Harry knew it was time.

He walked toward the sunlight, his heart hammering in his chest. The first thing he saw was hundreds of faces staring at him as he walked out onto the grassy earth that he knew was the clearing he'd seen before. Scorch marks, twenty or more feet long marred the ground in several areas. Harry could see two doors to pens similar to the one that was open. Standing, wings unfurled, and looking murderous, was the Chinese Fireball. Jets of fire erupted from the dragon's nose high into the air.

A wave of sound, jumbled and loud, crashed down on Harry as he realized he was still walking toward the dragon. Harry felt his nerves leave him as a strong gust of wind blew in his face, ruffling his hair. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I can do this," he said aloud and raised his wand.

"Ortocustus," he intoned as he weaved a circular pattern with his wand before pointing it at a rock near the wall of the enclosure. To everyone else, nothing would have happened.

Laughs and jeers echoed around the stadium. "...sure what that was," Bagman announced.

Harry found himself smiling. That smile turned to a frown when he saw something at the dragon's feet. A smashed white egg. He felt a wave of dread as he looked up to see the Chinese Fireball notice him. If a dragon could feel hatred, Harry had no illusions about what this particular dragon felt about wizards, and Harry in particular at the moment. It was all the warning Harry had.

"Lapidus!" he bellowed as he rolled his wand. A wave of earth, rock, and grass rose in a half dome in front of him and not a moment too soon. A hotter flame than anything Harry had ever felt slammed into his earthen barrier. Cracks appeared near a glowing red spot. "Lapidus!" he growled again as a new half dome rose to reinforce the first.

Harry heard the screams and excitement as he stepped out from behind the shield and sent a jet of water at the dragon's head. His aiming practice paid off as his spell took the dragon in the face before it could send another gout of flames at him. While the Fireball was shaking off the water, Harry looked around. The flames of his opponent could cover about a fourth of the stadium.

Harry was on the move before the Fireball could send another gout of flame at him. Every time it looked like the dragon wanted to cook him alive, Harry would cool it down with a well-placed shot to the dragon's face. He tried two attempts to simply summon the golden egg to him, but both times it failed. Harry felt his magic connect with something like a barrier. He wanted to end things before the dragon would give up trying to burn him and simply charge at him to use its teeth.

After the fourth time Harry dissuaded the Fireball to incinerate him, Harry noticed that the dragon looked away when he raised his wand as if trying to protect its face and eyes. He had a plan. "Stupify," he called, aiming his spell for the dragon's eyes.

That was a spell the dragon knew well and jerked its head wildly to avoid Harry's Stunning spell. "Obcupo," he intoned with a flick of his wand. "Stupify," he said again as another red spell shot for the dragon's eyes. When the dragon tried to breathe fire again, Harry hit it with a jet of water before following up with another Stunning Spell.

"... certainly doesn't give up," Bagman announced over the crowd's cheers, boos, and laughter.

Harry smiled and sent one more stunner at the dragon before flicking his wand. A golden egg arched past the dragon as Harry summoned a spare cloak from midair. He smiled as the cloth caught the egg just before it hit the ground. "Accio cloak," he smirked as the cloak, holding the egg, flew to him.

"I don't believe it," Bagman roared. "He got the golden egg the quickest of all champions so far. Well done! Well done! This will shorten the odds on Mr. Potter."

The crowd bellowed their cheers as wizards rushed onto the field, trying to stun the dragon. Harry added three stunners of his own, hitting the dragon twice in the snout, before the Chinese Fireball's head and body fell to the ground, stunned.

As he made his way to Professor McGonagall, standing on a platform near the champion entrance, Harry felt elated to be alive and had overcome the task. "That was excellent, Potter! Excellent! I couldn't be more proud of your Transfiguration," she cried as she helped him off the ladder. "You'll need to see Madam Pomfrey before the judges give out their score, but I don't think you got touched. Simply excellent spell work," she praised again.

"Yeh did it, Harry!" Hagrid bellowed from somewhere in the stands. Professor Moody stood by the door Professor McGonagall led him toward. The ex-Auror looked happy, his magical eye quivering. "Good use of a distraction. The dragon knew to expect stunners to the eyes. Well thought out," he praised.

"Thanks," Harry said as Madam Pomfrey appeared in the doorway. "Dragons," she grumbled her face pale. She looked him over as her wand appeared between her fingertips. "Dragons," she repeated. Harry could see her hand shake.

"I didn't get touched," he said quietly.

"It was very close," the healer whispered. "Too close."

In the dim light of the room, Harry saw Cedric Diggory's trainers at the end of one cot, Fleur's slippers on another, and what he thought was Risto's robes near the far wall. There were burns and cuts on the robes. Two white-robed mediwizards moved behind the last curtain. He didn't see Krum anywhere.

"How many hurt?" he asked.

"One is too many," Madam Pomfrey grumbled. "You are the only one who hasn't gotten at least a little singed."

Harry wanted to smile, but he couldn't. "Bad?" he asked, thinking of the robes.

"Not as bad as it could have been. Now, you're clear. Go get your scores," the healer announced with a ghost of a smile. Harry thanked her and returned to the two professors.

Before Harry could take two steps toward the stairs leading up to the stands, a figure cannoned into his back and wrapped their arms around him. "I was so scared," Hermione said into his spine as she sobbed.

"Trust me, I was too," he laughed, trying to pull his friend's arms away from his middle. "I didn't get cooked."

"It was a very near thing," she whispered. "We'll catch up with you in a bit," she added before letting go and running back the way she'd come. Harry turned to see an awkward-faced Ron and a smiling Neville waiting for Hermione. Ginny hovered behind him, her eyes roaming over his body.

Harry turned back to see Professor McGonagall giving him a strange look. He shrugged and walked with them toward the staircase. As he reached the top he saw the judge's table overlooking the enclosure. The five judges sat on golden thrones. Madame Maxime was the first to raise her wand. A long silver ribbon shot out of the tip to form a number nine.

"Based on a ten-scale," Professor McGonagall announced in a low voice. Harry saw a scowling Professor Davies sitting near the judge's table. The professor had his arms crossed and lips pursed. Harry wanted to laugh, thinking about what the Ministry Official thought of his wandwork.

Mr. Crouch came next. He shot a number ten into the air. The crowd clapped loudly. Dumbledore also put a ten in the air. Bagman laughed and shot a twelve into the air. Mr. Crouch glowered and flicked his wand. The twelve became a ten. Harry blinked as he looked at the sour-faced Karkaroff. Six.

"Well... he isn't impartial," the professor mumbled under her breath.

"It's fine, I got a forty-five," Harry shrugged.

"You're in first place, so far, by two points. Krum got a forty-three," Professor Moody growled. He flicked his hand toward the other side of the enclosure.

Harry looked to see his name at the bottom of the list. Risto received a twenty-nine. Cedric thirty-six. Fleur got a thirty-nine and Krum sat at forty-three points. "What happened with Risto?" he muttered.

"Dragon got a nice snack," Moody laughed darkly. "Got the egg at the cost of an arm." Harry spun around, horrified. "Oh, they'll regrow him another one. It wasn't cursed off, just bitten off. They do that kind of thing for splinching too," Moody grumbled.

Harry nodded, feeling a little better. He had a strong suspicion that Karkaroff wanted Risto out of the tournament. It could have just as easily been him without an arm if he hadn't lucked into seeing Charlie Weasley. Harry would have to send him a present for keeping him whole, even if it was unintended.

Professor McGonagall led Harry to a waiting chamber opposite the healer's room. He was the only one in there. They wouldn't let him watch Pascal compete, but he could hear what happened. The Beauxbatons Champion sent chunks of rocks flying at the dragon. Harry listened to the mother dragon protect her eggs with her body. As she sent flames ineffectually at Pascal. The older wizard seemed intent on simply stoning the dragon to death until something changed.

"It looks like the Short-Snout has had enough," Bagman called. "Oh blimey, you're going to have to move faster than that Dupont." Shreeks and shouts followed Ludo's commentating. "He just saved himself that time. Good stunner, too bad it didn't work... Not sure running there will save..."

Harry sat back and listened to what sounded like a comedy routine. Pascal managed to get away every time, but the way Bagman said it, Dupont was lucky to be alive. In the end, Pascal got the golden egg by the expedient way of using a Seize and Pull Charm. Once the fake egg was out of the clutch of real eggs, the mother dragon didn't care about it anymore. She did burn Pascal pretty badly, and he had to be rushed to Madam Pomfrey and the other healers.

"Harry," Sirius said as the door opened.

Standing up, Harry smiled and opened his hands. "I got the egg at least," he laughed.

"You were brilliant," Sirius praised as he strode into the room and surprised Harry by sweeping him into a crushing hug. "Scared the trousers off me too."

"Please tell me you have them on now," Harry grunted as he pushed his godfather away from him.

"Harry, dear, you did amazing! Simply amazing!" Mrs. Weasley gushed before she too crushed Harry in a hug.

Mr. Weasley clapped Harry on the shoulder when Mrs. Weasley let him go. "I couldn't be more proud of you. That was well done, well done indeed. Gave us all a scare when the Fireball tried to cook you," he laughed.

Mrs. Weasley and Sirius didn't look all that amused. "Good thinking on the spells. Also, well done keeping your head down. I know you could have taken the dragon earlier. Showing off at the end was a little over the top, but still, well done."

Harry shrugged. "I don't think I could have taken the dragon. I got lucky at the end because all the other wizards kept it distracted so I could get in those shots," he admitted.

"You were the only one not to get injured in some way. That counts for something," Mr. Weasley grinned.

"We'll catch up with you in a few. Bagman will need to give you the next part of your task," Sirius said as he headed for the door. "Just don't forget us before you go up to the castle. We want to see you at least once more."

Mrs. Weasley kissed his cheek and Mr. Weasley beamed at him before they followed Sirius out of the room. Professor McGonagall took Harry across to the healer's room. Cedric, Fleur, and Krum all sat on their cots, looking less than happy with their wins. No one looked as bad as Risto who had a missing sleeve. He still wore his bloody robes. Dupont didn't look nearly as bad as Harry thought he might look. Only part of his face and left arm had traces of burn marks. Madam Pomfrey, it seemed, had already started to heal him.

Ludo Bagman beamed at them all. "A jolly good trial," he announced. "Now, just a few words before you go off to celebrate. You've got a nice long break before the next task. It will be half past nine on the morning of February the twenty-fifth. You already have the answer to the next task with you. Those golden eggs have hinges on the side. See just there? You'll need to solve the clue to prepare for the next task. All clear? Good, well, off you go!"