Welcome to my newest story, this one has been playing around in my head for a few months, maybe years, after some work here's the first chapter. This story is more ambitious than my others, and as such, I have a swath of Beta Readers to thank for their time and effort. Lucifer Morningstar, Krevian Reyhers, Ajjaxx, DJKopper, x102reddragon, OfficeSloth. It wouldn't be nearly as good without your help 3
Chapter 1 - Shattered Stones and Silver Smiles
Harry took his first step into the pit, cheers drowned out the pounding beat of his heart.
The roar of the crowd hammered at his ears, only to be shattered by a vicious snarl. His eyes flicked around the arena, desperate to find his hunter, dreading the sight of it.
The Hungarian Horntail loomed. The far end of the arena seemed too close. Deep black scales, that refused to reflect the sunlight, a stark contrast from the dirt and stone surroundings. With a head covered in sharp angles, it regarded him, powerful… mythical.
Winds gusted as the dragon swished its tail, a dull thud rang around the arena when it hit a stone outcrop. The dirt quivered from the blow, silence fell on the crowd. At that moment it dawned on him, exactly how alone he was.
It took everything he was worth to remember what he needed to do, even still, in front of this beast his plan was flimsy at best. A death wish at worst. And yet, he had no other choice. His hand tightened on his wand once more, a reminder of its power, and his utter reliance on it. Luckily the large rocks, intended for cover, were there.
The dragon moved, not to threaten or scare, just to test its new confines. Harry watched, transfixed, as it moved with a power seldom survived by humans, the beast's neck coiled as it looked around.
And all he needed to do was move it enough to get the egg, and get out…
Harry squeezed his small bead, filled with vibrant silver, a good luck charm felt childish in the face of this monster. But it had been there when the monster's eyes could kill.
He swallowed his nerves, it was all down to focus now, Moody had promised, he thought,, it seemed an awfully foolish time to test that. He couldn't afford to slip now. His wand performed the well-practised swish and flick, and a large rock floated up. He couldn't help but smile.
The boulder was large and jagged, it revolved in the air, languid and casual. Another swish and flick, another, another. Soon Harry had a cluster of large stones floating in the air, and the dragon watched them with obvious caution.
It knew what this meant, he realized with a surge of hope. His plan wasn't doomed, at least not yet anyway.
One boulder shot towards the dragon, but it lashed out even as it backed away, the thick powerful tail striking the heart of the stone. Harry blinked, he thrust his prized gobstone into his robes and started his slow procession around the arena. With both eyes locked firmly on the head of the dragon, he made the same wand movement, and it worked, again.
Tiny fragments of rock rose into the air, twirling and bouncing in the gentle breeze. He had never managed to control so many spells at once, looking the dragon over, he decided it was a fairly good motivator. One wrong move.
The beast roared, shaking the ground itself with the force. Within a blink, it pounced forward. With a speed that seemed impossible, it collided with the largest rock, throwing it to the ground. Powerful legs and jaw tore it to pieces in the blink of an eye. Harry shuffled around the arena's edge, desperate to not make a sound.
The monster was much faster and much more vicious than he had expected. But then again, it was a fucking dragon, he thought to himself, regretting his naivety. The first part of his plan had worked though, the egg was free of its protector. Despite the thrill that rose in him at seeing the glistening golden egg, he knew if he timed his dash wrong he was done for.
And three of the stones were reduced to scraps. Which threw his last resort into shambles. Keep it simple, Moody's voice echoed in his head, a constant mantra he had worked off for weeks now. He could have wished Moody were with him, but that was probably due to his often brutal instruction.
Heat washed over him as the dragon roared once more, so Harry took his shot and risked it all. Chunks of debris and rock flew at the dragon, nothing larger than a small animal, nothing large enough to make a dent in the colossal beast.
He didn't waste time watching, Moody had taught him about that well enough. He sprinted to the nest, horrifically aware of the first real noise he had made since entering the arena. Harry snatched up the egg and took a roll to the far wall in the same motion, as he righted himself he searched for the dragon. His eyes met another pair.
The eyes were so deeply red they almost seemed black. He had been caught, slow to react too. A burst of flame erupted out of the razor-sharp maw, right at him. He flung himself to the side, not caring about any debris littered in the area. He slid along for a pace, small cuts were preferable to being cooked alive, he regained his footing and ran.
Heedless of the noise, he had to make some distance, each step the dragon took rang in his ears and each step brought it closer. God, it was big. The dirt and stone protested each of the dragon's steps, every time dust and debris whipped up around them. The largest of his stones was only the size of its head, not nearly big enough but it would have to do.
It swung as he flicked his wand, the boulder launching itself at the dragon only to veer off target. The dragon's head swung, following the boulders movements. Harry shifted around the edge once more, the golden egg a dead weight in his arm.
His feet scraped the debris around as he moved, each step a betrayal, every second wasted he expected the dragon to round on him. Roar its defiance and end him. But his boulder shooting across the face of the beast had it captivated, though that wouldn't last as long as he wanted.
He could see the exit, or entrance, only a minute away from him at this pace. And that seemed to taunt him. He could sprint there in a few seconds. He could risk it, as the dragon wasn't even looking his way. The boulder collided with a wing, sending the dragon sprawling.
Harry took his chance, even though he hadn't meant to do it, it was an opening. His feet manage to carry him, as he had grown up doing, fast away from imminent danger.
The flap of a tent rippled, just far enough away that he couldn't see inside, but close enough to make him reckless. The tail crushed him from above. A huge length of raw muscle and magic flattened him, his skin erupted in agony from the heat of the thing.
His arm fought to find a way up, his legs kicked out useless behind him. He could hear screams and a building roar. And heat, everywhere heat.
He looked up and the dragon stood over him, his maw wide open and ready to kill. Harry threw all his weight into getting up and moving. He scrambled to his feet and stumbled. He impacted the wall of the arena, his cheek crushed against the hard stone.
Fire exploded around him. But he charged forwards. The heat seemed distant and far away. His feet ached and his body throbbed with effort, but he reached the tent flap. He was pulled inside as soon as he crossed the threshold, firm hands helping him clear the opening.
Behind him, something heavy slammed to the ground. He threw himself forwards, but with a glance, he saw a metal barrier over the entrance flap. It drowned out the noise from just outside, leaving him to be dragged by the matron.
He took what felt like the first breath in a week. He had done it. And only a little bit singed. He became aware of Madam Pomfrey pushing him into a bed, he wanted to run… jump, scream or laugh. He had done it.
It took him a few seconds to notice what happened around him, Madam Pomfrey smeared a salve on his face, each motion drew a wince of pain. Madam Pomfrey glared down unamused, "Bloody dragons, bloody stupid tournament, you got lucky Potter. You could've been burned much worse than this."
The fabric walls rippled in a slight breeze, Harry felt the delightful chill wash over him. Finally free of the scent of fire, the air seemed vibrant once more, he breathed it in, and felt calm envelop him. Somehow, that hadn't been nearly as bad as he had feared.
He gulped and tried to give her a confident smile, but she knew him far too well for that to work, "sorry," he offered. Before long she gave up on the salve and began fussing with his arms, every muscle protested her actions but he allowed her to do her job.
She was as fierce as a dragon in her own way, and for now, he was completely at her mercy. She pulled out her wand and began casting a spell on his arm, Harry's breath caught, fresh blood decorated her fingers, he hadn't realized he had actually gotten cut. How close had it been, how lucky had he gotten?
The elation was starting to fall away, it was hard to be proud of yourself while being patched up by a woman who liked to mutter about how foolish you were. Not to mention having been burned, bloodied and bruised. Harry didn't blame her, he still couldn't believe that they had faced dragons. Even baby Norbert had been a lot to handle.
Agony racked him, Pomfrey had lifted his top up over his chest, the pain made him want to curl up. His breaths shattered within him and Pomfrey cursed loud enough for him to clearly hear it.
"What… is it?" He grunted, the only comparison he had felt was the bite he had received from the basilisk.
How he had only just noticed it was beyond him, he could barely open his eyes.
"I have no idea, stay still Mr Potter." She said as if she hadn't just burst all confidence in him. The floor of the tent swam in and out of focus, Harry had to clamp his jaw down to focus at all.
Her wand poked and prodded around the right side of his chest, perhaps he imagined it but it seemed like the pain lessened. Her face was lined with worry, her eyes sharp and focused on the wound she was working on. Harry groaned when he saw her pull back for a second, her expression was grim enough to give him genuine concern.
"Go get me Dumbledore," she ordered, Harry saw some young man dart out of the tent. After only a few seconds he returned with Professor Dumbledore, worry etched on his elderly face.
"Sit still, Mr Potter," Pomfrey said, as gentle as she ever did. "Headmaster, I've found this wound… it's not reacting to anything I do." Dumbledore peered down his nose at whatever it was, his glasses threatening to fall off. Dumbledore's face never changed, his eyes however found the wound and seemed to harden.
Harry gulped, still able to focus on something other than the pain, whatever she had done it had helped. Another wand was poking around at him, the headmaster gave him no greeting, just went about testing the wound.
Heat flared in his side, a dim echo of the dragon's foul weapon, Harry gasped as it felt like something pulled out of him.
He fell back, breath ripped from him, vision blurred and bile flooded in his throat.
"Have you ever seen the like?"
Harry fought to regain some balance, some sense of self. All he managed was to turn his head to catch a glimpse of Dumbledore.
"Only once, a long time ago mind you, a friend fell on his wand and it seemed to want to stay stuck in his leg," Dumbledore mused. His tone was his usual jovial self, but his expression… it was concerned and dripping with curiosity.
Harry pulled himself up, fighting down the sick feeling, as he did he got a look at his chest. A large pitch-black circle settled over the right side of his rib cage, with each blink it seemed to shrink. He couldn't help but stare at it as it retreated, he would have expected to feel that, whatever it was.
His eyes found Dumbledore's, who had been inspecting the object he had just removed from Harry. "Will I be alright?" Dumbledore placed the small blackened lump on the camp bed beside Harry and opened his mouth.
Madam Pomfrey let out a snort, "If you stop acting like a fool, perhaps you might be. Let me get a look at that."
"Better safe than sorry Harry," he gave Harry an insolent smile and retreated, his wave from the flaps mocked more than comforted. Harry watched Madam Pomfrey work, her wand bounced in her hand, as though eager to be used. But she held herself back, content to watch. Eventually, he was left with a small black circular scar on his ribcage.
"I suppose you might survive, I want to see you back later today though, I don't like new injuries."
"I promise," he offered her a weak smile. She seemed to accept it, though her face never lost its severe cast. She gestured to the young man, and he came over to escort Harry out of the tent. Harry pocketed the fragment, he wished he could have a second to inspect it, but the tournament took precedence.
"They'll be announcing your scores, up here… watch your head… just through here."
Harry wanted to offer his thanks, but the man had wandered back. Ahead of him loomed a crowd and the judges. He could hear the nervous chatter of the gathered students, each step closer made him remember their treatment of him. As though anyone with a sensible bone in their body would enter this bloody tournament.
Light bathed him as he stepped out in front of the judges, a small breeze gave him a long-needed chill. Harry spotted his competitors clustered around the end of the platform, each offered him a smile that he returned. His eyes found the judges, who from their elevated platform looked imposing. His heart felt like it had crept into his throat.
His right hand wandered to his pocket, where a small sack of gobstones rested. He barely managed to put a smile on, though they seemed not to notice, or care.
"Mr Potter tackled his dragon using intimidation and distraction, he was able to quickly secure his egg without damaging the rest of the eggs, however, his return wasn't as spectacular, suffering injury, though minor it seems, luckily." Ludo Bagman announced. As one the judges raised their wands.
Madame Maxime shot a ribbon out of her wand that settled into the number eight, Harry blinked that was much more than he had expected. He had been injured, and probably more than the others. A cheer rose around him, he wanted to gape, but focus on the next judge.
Bartemius Crouch was next, his streamer showed the number seven. A chorus of boo's erupted around him, admonishing the lesser number. Next was Dumbledore, who with a usual flourish presented him with a nine. Stamping all around made the stands shake, Harry felt his heart pounding as fast as when faced with the dragon.
Ludo Bagman sent up his streamer, and the number ten stared back at him, Harry barely heard Krum's curse as in that moment the crowd exploded with joy. Karkaroff sent up a six, even though his face was twisted with frustration he cast an appraising look at Harry.
Another round of boo's washed over them, Harry had no idea how he hadn't heard the reactions while waiting, but he was glad for it. The raw emotion washing over him might have overwhelmed him while waiting his turn, not to mention when facing the dragon.
The judges rose and began to leave, Harry saw Dumbledore offer him a smile and a small bow. It was with his head held high that he turned to regard his competition. The three of them were waiting for him nearby, Cedric walked over first offering a hand to him.
Harry still couldn't believe how tall they all were, each at least a head taller than himself. All were good looking in their own right, even Krum, who Harry had heard Ron gush over for weeks. Though that apparently wasn't a crush. Cedric always wore an easy smile that girls talked about endlessly.
Harry couldn't help but feel like an imposter in their company.
Over the still considerable noise, Cedric yelled, "You did amazing Harry, tied for first with Viktor." Harry felt his ears burn, as the three older students regarded him.
Little boy, Fleur's voice still rang in the back of his head. It almost made him laugh, he had to work to keep his delight out of his voice. "Thanks, but I reckon I was the only one who got flattened by their dragon."
"Only just, mine did not appreciate my attempt to lull it to sleep, I was lucky to avoid being trampled." Fleur Delacour laughed, her voice alight with joy. Harry didn't let his eyes wander, fixed on her face alone felt enough like he was looking at something he ought not.
Her silvery hair rippled from her laughter, a graceful motion despite the faint sheen of sweat on her brow. Her smile seemed to enhance her beauty, no matter how implausible that seemed. She gave a gentle shudder, then stuck out her own hand, "You 'andled yourself very well, we were all terribly impressed." Harry took it, feeling the soft skin of her hand, he gaped as he took in the warmth of her skin. He almost forgot to let go.
"I cannot believe you actually went head-on with the dragon, I thought you were dead for sure." The internationally renowned seeker said, his stern face curved with a smile. It made him look a lot less reproachful, though Harry assumed everyone's spirits were running high after that.
"You performed well yourself Viktor, your curse was perfect," Cedric praised. Viktor Krum shrugged, though a gleam of pride was evident.
"I 'eard your plan didn't go so well Cedric, what 'appened?" Fleur asked, sounding casually curious. Harry wasn't foolish enough to believe it though, she was clearly as competitive as Viktor.
A warm chuckle emanated from Cedric, and he simply shook his head, "You'll have to find that out from your friends. I got lucky enough to watch all of you perform, not going to throw it away now." The others chuckled, Harry joined in too, yep they were all very much in it to win it.
Ludo Bagman sauntered over to them, his face alight with excitement. He put an arm each around Harry and Cedric, "well, you all performed excellently, I expect your classmates are eager to throw you a party. First though, your next task…" Harry watched as Fleur's face grew serious in an instant. Krum too looked to be listening fully.
"The golden egg you retrieved was more than a simple trinket, and it will tell you all you need to know, though, don't open it here." He gave a conspiratorial wink and a grin then fled.
"The egg…" Fleur muttered. They all shared a look and glanced at their own eggs.
"I guess we had better get a move on, you're more than welcome to come up to the castle to celebrate, Professor Sprout is setting up a party in the Great Hall." Cedric said. Harry watched Fleur and Viktor nod with rising excitement. A big party, with the likes of Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour… he could imagine worse ways to spend his time, he had never really been thrown a party.
He wasn't some big shot quidditch player or even particularly well-liked. Maybe this tournament wasn't the worst thing.
"That sounds excellent, my classmates are eager to get to know your lot." Fleur chuckled.
"My headmaster will want me to get to work on the clue," Viktor muttered, Harry assumed he had been to plenty of parties, all thrown for him and his prowess on a broomstick.
"Well if you want to come, we will be delighted to have you," Cedric said with certainty. Harry hadn't heard a thing about it, although he had been focused on not dying today.
"You are coming too, 'Arry?" Fleur asked, he nodded. Who would dare say no? Her smile was dazzling, showing off rows of perfect white teeth. With that, she nodded, started to walk away and gave a wave, "Well I must get back to the carriage, oh, when does the party start?"
"Whenever, I wouldn't be surprised to hear they already started, but let's call it six?" Cedric said. And Fleur was gliding off, her movements as graceful as her face. Harry noticed she was wearing something similar to muggle workout clothes, a far cry from the usual robes… though Beauxbatons robes were much silkier than Hogwarts.
A cough shook Harry to his senses, Cho Chang glared at Cedric from the same walkway Fleur had just departed. Viktor gave a small chuckle and patted Cedric on the back as he departed, as he passed Cho he sped up towards his school's boat. Cedric gave a warm laugh, he dashed over and wrapped Cho Chang up in a hug. Harry walked by, not wanting to intrude.
He made it all of three steps before running into Hermione and Ron, both looked relieved to see him. Harry guessed he was too, even if Ron had been acting a right idiot recently.
"Harry, you did amazing, we were so worried," Hermione erupted. She launched herself at him, her arms smothering the air out of him momentarily. Ron meanwhile hovered nearby, shifting between looking at his feet and looking at Harry.
"I'm sorry, you'd have to be an idiot to sign up for that."
"It's alright."
Hermione made a muffled noise as she pulled away from him, she regarded him, "I'm glad your plan worked, but it was so scary, how did you manage to stop that fire from burning you to ash? What spell did you use? Was it one from Professor Moody?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about Hermione, it just didn't hit me," he chuckled.
"Harry, don't be silly, you were flat against the wall, then next thing we see you're in the tent. It must have been a very powerful spell."
Harry blinked at her, the dragon had missed him and he ran. Perhaps it just looked different from above, either way, he had gotten fairly lucky with that situation. He needed to work much harder to ensure he wasn't reliant on luck to survive this tournament, Moody had been right, keep it simple and effective.
It had handled a dragon, what else could he manage if he kept it up? Perhaps even winning the entire thing…
"Tied for first, Fred and George made a killing on those bets, no one thought you'd finish in first," Ron exclaimed, breaking Harry out of his musings.
"Need to tell them they owe me something good then," he joked.
"They are planning the biggest party in years for you right now," Ron said, "I even heard Lee Jordan mentioned Firewhiskey."
"That's against the rules, the law even, Ron why didn't you stop them?" Hermione interjected.
"And ruin an amazing night? No thank you, either way, Fred and George are to blame, not me."
Hermione muttered something that sounded similar to 'Mrs Weasley' and Ron spluttered in outrage. Harry chuckled, it was nice having his friend back, things felt better when they weren't broken apart. He hadn't laughed in weeks it felt like. The good mood was shattered as they neared the castle, as a lime-green bowler hat and fairly unimpressive looking man waited.
The minister of magic had seemed many things to Harry; foolish, cowardly and useless, to name a few, however sincere wasn't one of them. So when he asked to speak to Harry alone his guard was up.
"Harry! Awful business this, though you performed far better than our wildest dreams, you have my apology for getting mixed up in this." He said, his face lined with concern and worry. Harry didn't buy it for a second. The last time he had spoken to this man he had been convinced Harry was out of his mind, on the word of Snape.
"Have you been looking into how my name came out of the goblet?" Harry asked, not caring overmuch if it sounded rude. Fudge was full of hot air.
"No, I've been far too busy, Barty has been looking into it though. He's the only one who knows all the laws, by-laws… well. I've been too busy." His bowler hat twirled in his hands as he regarded Harry. "You were the best today, make no mistake, I wouldn't be surprised if you got messages from ministry workers trying to cosy up to you, I heard Crouch complimenting your skill."
He clearly expected Harry to feel some sort of elation at the words, but the words fell dead in his ears, it wasn't so easy to rebuild that trust. The ministry had left a bad taste in his mouth, after throwing Hagrid to Azkaban and refusing Sirius a fair trial… Fudge regarded him with a casual interest that made Harry want to squirm.
"Nothing like a little competition, and a great showing from you and Diggory, I'd bet the country speaks of little else for a few weeks." The Minister continued, his smile met his eyes. "Been too long since we managed a good result, what with the World Cup. You did brilliant Harry, my boy."
"Thank you, Minister, I've got to get going, there's a party."
Fudge tittered, "No, of course, go enjoy your victory." He patted Harry on the back in a jovial way, it made Harry's skin crawl. The man had not an ounce of shame, nor a modicum of decency. Harry offered him a smile, one that was little more than showing teeth.
Harry was careful not to look too eager to be away from him though, he was still the Minister, no matter what.
The entrance hall was flooded with students gathered around the entrance to the great hall, people bustled each other to get closer, though no one managed to enter. Harry took Ron and Hermione around them, so he could deposit his egg and get dressed. Faces turned to regard him as they passed, none held the scorn from the day before, smiles and waves aplenty ushered him by.
It really was like how those quidditch players were treated, no one cared that he was the reigning Hogwarts gobstones champion, two years in a row, but nearly die in front of a crowd and suddenly they all liked… and celebrated him.
"What's all that?" Ron asked, looking over his shoulder at the gathered students.
"A party, Cedric mentioned it, he invited the other schools too." Harry smiled, his voice hadn't even pitched, though he had expected it might.
"Oh, I'd love to talk to some of them, I wonder how different Hogwarts is to Beauxbatons or Durmstrang."
"And those French girls," Ron mused as if he were dreaming.
Harry silently agreed, Fleur was stunning, but most of her classmates were almost as pretty. Hermione rounded on Ron, "You freeze up the moment Fleur Delacour even walks near you, are you really going to ask one of them to dance or something?"
"I might," Ron's ears were turning red, "never know, they might just be waiting for some suave Englishman to sweep her off her feet."
Hermione's scoff was damning enough to make Ron groan, Harry patted him on the back. "You'll find someone, if not Pansy Parkinson is looking a lot less awful this year,"
"No thanks, that's disgusting, she smells like one of Snape's cauldrons."
The common room was mostly empty as they filed through, Neville Longbottom and Seamus Finnegan both congratulated him, Harry nodded. He was mostly glad there weren't more people here to get in the way, he wanted to wash and gather himself.
It was a relief to step out of his clothes, they were damp with sweat. The shower water was almost hot enough to be uncomfortable, though nothing compared to that dragon. He couldn't shake the grin on his face, he had done it. He was tied for first place. Fleur had complimented him. Little boy, this time he didn't fight back the laugh, he had proved her wrong.
She would be at the party, he had nothing special to wear, nothing special to do with his hair. Dudley might be an awful role model, but even he managed to put in special effort when going to meet with girls.
Could he ask Seamus for some aftershave, he always boasted about its effects, he might die of embarrassment doing that though. Maybe Hermione would help, she must know all about fashion, she was a girl after all… Cedric would help… no. He was all alone, if he asked anyone for help his secret crush would be exposed.
Still, the memory of the feel of her hand on his made him grin, she had been so soft… so warm, it was hard to believe she was real. Her voice was soft, confident… intoxicating. Everything about her filled his head until he felt faint, her lithe grace as she walked, her laugh. He had it real bad.
He wished, not for the first time, that Sirius was free, so he could floo call him. He would know all about this kind of thing. Harry had heard the usual advice, his dormmates were full of their 'advice'. He just needed to be confident, charming and fun… three things he wasn't good at.
"You are coming too, 'Arry?" She had asked, but why? Was she just being polite, as he had been the only one yet to reply, or was she really wanting to know? Of course not, he thought, still he couldn't fight the smile away.
He pulled out sets of robes from his trunk trying to find one that was at least decent, he had school robes and a pair of black robes, one with green trim and one with golden-red trim. Mrs Weasley had been undecided when picking stuff up for him, Harry eyed them up, both were clearly much better than his school robes. But were they too much?
The last thing he wanted was to look like a fool in front of her. He picked up the set of robes with red and gold trim and held them against himself, trying to see how it might look. It was hopeless, they were ornate and far too snooty… still, they were better than simple school robes. Fleur wouldn't show up in school robes, would she?
His stomach growled to him, seeming as though time was running out he decided to dress up, even if he looked a fool, he would look decent doing it. He hoped at least. His hair was another matter altogether, it refused to be tamed, whether with a comb or the palm of his hand, it fought all attempts to flatten.
The final result wasn't nearly as bad as he had expected, and still, his stomach churned with anticipation, he had faced a pissing dragon, stabbed an ugly great big snake and met face to face…well not face exactly… with Voldemort. And the thought of attending a party was making him nervous.
He knew it wasn't the party, he knew it was all about trying to get to know a beautiful woman. One who looked like an artists allusion to true perfection, one who had eyes clearer than any gemstone. Deep blue and pristine as the sea itself. Her hair was silvery and flowed like rippling waves. And her voice sent shivers down his spine.
Nope, he was fairly aware of what had him in knots.
"Oi Harry, c'mon, we're starving" Ron yelled. Harry steeled himself, there really was nothing else to do for it. As his hand reached the door to the dorms, he had to rush back over to his trunk. He fished around in his pockets for the bag of gobstones, after a hasty search the familiar weight was in his hand.
The bag seemed singed, Harry untied it to inspect the damage. He was more than a little confused, he had avoided burns from the dragon except for a little on the face. He spilt the contents over his bed and froze. Fourteen perfect spheres rested where they lay, and a charred shattered chunk glared up at him from its place in the middle of them.
Blackened and broken, Harry reached a finger towards it, he recoiled at the sudden heat emanating from the gobstone. He grabbed his wand up from the bed, and with a swish and flick the remains of the gobstone lifted off the bed. He had no idea what to do with it though.
Never had he broken one of his gobstones before.
"Harry, come on!" Ron's voice broke him from his pondering. He snatched up the bag, an old treasured gift from Hagrid, each of the gobstones dropped into the bag with a flick of his finger. There would be time to worry about that later, no matter how much it stung now. His hand hurt too. The shard landed gently next to the window, where he would no doubt spend half the night agonizing over it.
Harry followed Ron down to the common room, when he got there a few classmates were lingering, Hermione was gaping at him. She had taken a bit of time to freshen up too, her robes were different, more stylish. Her hair was still its usual wild mess. She gave him a shy smile and gestured to his outfit.
"You look nice, those robes are lovely."
"Thanks…" he knew he ought to compliment her back, but how to make it not sound like he was thinking of more. "You too."
Hermione blinked and smiled, "thanks," she said and she burst out laughing. "Honestly Harry, was that so hard? You looked like you'd just seen that dragon again."
"Of course not, I just… didn't want to… Oh, shut up Ron." His snickering had distracted him.
The three Gryffindor chasers provided him with an acceptable distraction, they swept down from the girl's dorms, each looking as lovely as ever. Harry watched Ron stare after them and offered him a suggestion.
"If you get up, you might have a chance to ask Katie for a dance. Before someone else does, she is looking very good…"
Ron squawked, his public crush on the girl being revealed was never easy for him to ignore. "You think she might say yes?" he muttered.
Harry nodded, "if you get your head out of your arse and ask her."
"Just make sure you ask her, and not her chest," Hermione added.
Ron grunted and ran ahead, leaving them behind without so much as a thank you.
"I always thought you were fond of Katie?" Hermione prodded.
"She's better for Ron, they both love quidditch," he shrugged. It wasn't so important Katie was pretty, pretty wasn't enough. Not anymore.
Not since Fleur Delacour swept into his life, she had ensnared his senses in a way unlike any other. Magic itself hadn't been as all-encompassing. He could picture her perfect blue eyes in a heartbeat, and it, as usual, made his heart race.
A/N: This story wouldn't be what it is without the brilliant people over at the flowerpot discord server, discord gg flowerpot. They have an excellent Beta setup there and lots of talented authors who love to help, I would recommend it to all, especially aspiring writers.