In the last chapter: Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrive at Hogwarts. Harry's name comes out of the Goblet of Fire. Everyone is shocked and also worried for our little Savior. Harry writes Voldemort another note.
Fleur Delacour had been the official champion of Beauxbatons for roughly a week now. They were still weeks away from the first task and she could already feel the constant eyes on her from the other students. However, that was nothing she wasn't already used to, considering her heritage. Even back in France, she'd always stood apart from everyone else. Not above or below, really, just . . . apart.
France was far more tolerant of creatures and 'half-breeds' than Britain. She'd known that before agreeing to travel to Hogwarts with the other top students of her year. She was just glad that her quarter-Veela side didn't immediately make her a target for discrimination, even if it did invoke unwanted attention.
Thankfully, over the years at Beauxbatons, Fleur had been able to slip her way into a small group of friends so that she would not be completely isolated during school. Fleur counted her lucky stars that most of those friends had also come to Hogwarts with her. Currently, she was sat at the Ravenclaw dining table across from her good friend, Armand, while they ate breakfast.
Fleur was tearing off some fresh bread for herself when she spotted one of her fellow champions—and arguably the most interesting out of the bunch—entering the Great Hall with a small group of friends. Her sharp, deep blue eyes tracked the graceful movements of the fourth year as he took a seat at the Slytherin table next to a blonde she'd often seen in his company. Looking a little further down the table, she noted that she wasn't the only one watching Harry Potter. Viktor Krum sat in the middle of a cluster of Durmstrang students that seemed to be trying to talk to him and get his attention, though he completely ignored them.
Armand turned to look over his shoulder and see what had captured his friend's full attention. He turned back with eyes alight with intrigue.
"Now there is one of Hogwarts' more interesting peculiarities." Armand leaned forward as he spoke in their native language, the corner of his mouth perking up in what could only be described as devious.
Fleur nodded in agreement. When she first arrived at Hogwarts, she had known a little about the boy—but really only the tragic story of his parents' death and the fall of a rising dark lord. She had expected the arrogance and pitifully lack of ability that came with a life of fame and reverence. Fleur had only been there a day before the selection ceremony, so she hadn't really the time to notice Harry Potter. Afterwards, though, he had her full attention.
It wasn't that she believed his fear to be ingenuine that night, or that any of this had been planned on his part, but there was far more to Harry than what coalesced on the surface. After the selection ceremony, Harry seemed to return to what was considered his 'normal' behavior which consisted of blank stares, cold temperance, and sharp intelligence. Fleur was older than him and therefore couldn't observe the young champion during his classes, but she really didn't need to. She could see everything she needed to by watching those around Harry.
Harry was a cool mask of indifference, but the others were not always so subtle. Fleur noticed almost immediately how ridged the 'houses' could be around each other—some even going as far as being blatantly antagonistic—and yet, Harry Potter moved through them as if he was following a different current. Harry had friends from other houses and other years, and if he wanted to sit with them for a meal, nobody even batted an eye. People didn't hesitate to move aside to make room for Harry at their table. Everything about Harry didn't just command respect, it made people eager to give it.
That was the thing about the Ravenclaw. He didn't rule over the student body with an iron fist, they all just willingly bent over backwards for him. Fleur would even go as far as to say that Harry Potter—and not just the legend, but the boy—was adored. That night in the common room, most of the house had waited up for him and when he finally returned, they had mussed over him like a bunch of overprotective siblings.
The image of a terrified Harry Potter with glistening eyes and trembling hands popped back up in Fleurs' mind and she knew just how easy it was to slide in amongst them, to wish to protect the angelic-faced boy. Harry Potter just looked so . . . delicate. Harry wasn't frail by any means, and he was growing just fine for a boy his age, but so many things about him made him appear too soft to be a part of something dangerous: the smooth alabaster skin, full lips that almost always looked stained by the blush of red berries, a fan of long dark lashes framing striking light green eyes, gleaming raven black curls that looked too tempting not to touch.
Harry Potter might not be part Veela like Fleur, but she could recognize the innocently beautiful trap that could be lying behind such a face. If her suspicions about the boy were correct then she would need to be extremely cautious around him during the tournament. Fleur returned to her breakfast with the buddings of respect unfurling in her gut.
Harry had not known exactly how his guardians would react to the news that he was forced into a dangerous competition. He did not expect, however, for them to try to take on both Dumbledore and the Ministry for what had happened. They were calling for disciplinary action against Dumbledore as well as the department that even allowed for the tournament to be reinstated. They knew that they couldn't take Harry from the competition because the consequences were too great and Harry refused to allow them to risk it, so they took it out on the only people they could.
With Sirius' reinstatement as Lord Black, they almost won, too. However, both endeavors didn't really get anywhere. Dumbledore would have to plead his case before the ethics board, but he would be able to finagle his way out of that mostly unharmed, and he would also have to go a while without pay, but that wouldn't be a problem for the famed wizard. The Ministry department faired even better, getting away with only a small fine and offering financial compensation to his guardians, which they immediately refused to accept on principle.
Harry tried to comfort them by assuring that he would only have to do the bare minimum to pass the tasks and that the other champions had offered him help—only a partial lie—throughout the tasks. The tasks may be dangerous, but he would play it safe.
Unfortunately, his guardians weren't the only ones to react badly to the news. Little to say, Philias had not been happy. Thankfully, Harry was able to talk the 'Auror' out of confronting the dark lord by reminding him that Voldemort was—in fact—not himself. They were both well aware of the decline in the man's mental stability, leading him to make irrational decisions. A point which Philias heartily agreed with. They had decided to do this on Voldemort's terms, so they would just need to adapt and be prepared for anything.
Harry would seriously rather not partake in the tournament, but if it was going to get him to Voldemort's resurrection, then he would not only have to partake, but do well enough to reach the end. He didn't know if Barty would be taking him during one of the trails, but if that was the case, he didn't know which one. He heard from his companion that, traditionally, the last trial would start off with handicaps on champions who did not do as well in the previous trials. If Voldemort's end game led all the way up till the third task, then he would do his best to get every advantage he could and reach the end.
That being said, Harry would also have to hold back to a certain degree, of course. Harry had abilities that could give him an incredible advantage, but there was also a lot of drawbacks and things he couldn't do.
For example, he couldn't die.
During the tasks, all eyes would be on him and he couldn't risk giving away too much. Which meant a severe limitation in the spells he could use, no manipulation of the veil, and no necromancy or soul magic. Best case scenario, Harry used simple (fourth year, maybe fifth year) spells, and pulled off the task at an average time while making it look like he only succeeded by the skin of his teeth through sheer dumb luck. That being said, Harry knew he couldn't just hop into the tasks blind and hope for the best. He would have to try to cleverly solve the tasks beforehand so that he could make it through without huge displays of magic and control.
Not only would the school be watching, but all of Britain, France, and Scandinavia.
Two weeks before the first task, Harry was pulled from his potions class to attend the ceremonial Weighing of the Wands. Though tedious, Harry hadn't really minded the interruption, except that when he got there, the infamous Rita Skeeter was also waiting in the small classroom. She was in the middle of trying to coerce an impassive Viktor into giving her an interview when Harry entered and she pounced him.
Before Harry could react, his arm was grabbed and he was dragged forcefully off to an adjoining broom cupboard. The shrill-voiced blonde reporter was just about to shut the door when Harry regained his wits wedged his foot between the door, preventing him from being closed in with the shark of a woman.
"Pardon me, Ms. Skeeter, but I am abstaining from giving any statements at this time." He spoke in a deceptively calm voice, irritation already lighting up inside him as he remembered all of the . . . distasteful articles the woman had written about both him and Sirius during his trial. Since his debut in the wizarding world his first year, Skeeter had been out for blood, scavenging for any bit of dirt on Harry for her bloodthirsty readers. Harry refused to play into her hand and risk the gamble that would be allowing her to write an article about him, so he needed to end it right then and there.
"Mr. Potter, I'm not sure if you're aware, but this and the photoshoot are just as important to the wand weighing ceremony as the wands! All four of you will be giving me an interview, you'll weigh the wands, and then comes the photoshoot. I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice, dear." Everything about Rita was utterly patronizing, talking to him as if he were simple. However, she failed to realize that Harry was far from concerned and did not consider her to have any kind of authority over him.
"Ms. Skeeter, interviews and photoshoots have nothing to do with the tournament itself. I will not be disqualified for not taking part, clearly, as I saw that I am not the only one unwilling to give you an interview." Harry's face remained blank as he spoke and he noticed the flash of hesitance in Skeeter's expression. "Also, I think it is fair of me to inform you that I am still underage and can invoke the protective rights as a minor if something is written about me without my consent. I want to stay as far away from the media as possible during this trying time and do not give you, or anyone, the right to speak on my behalf, publish my words, or speculate about me in the papers. Now, if that is all." Harry stepped out of the still-open cupboard door before Rita could retort, and joined his fellow champions near Ollivander, who would be assessing the state of their wands.
Rita attempted to drag off the other champions a few more times, but just like Harry, they all refused.
Listening to Ollivander rambling on and on about the different designs and properties of their wands did little to hold Harry's interest, so he soon turned his attention elsewhere.
Harry silently began inquiring about the first task from his friend. Death didn't say much, other than that Harry should remain patient, as the answer would reveal itself soon enough. Used to Death's frustrating antics, Harry reluctantly conceded to wait just as the strange old wandmaker asked for his wand.
Harry's wand was deemed just fine and the gruelingly long photoshoot began. They had arranged them in so many different poses and positions that it made Harry's head spin as he swore that they did identical poses at least five times. In many of the pictures, Fleur was allowed to sit in a comfy armchair as they stood around her. Harry soon began to envy the blonde girl as his limbs started to get stiff and cramp.
Harry, from the very beginning, had refused to smile for the pictures as he was reluctant to be there in the first place. He was immensely glad for that decision as, only a few minutes in, he noticed Cedric's smile dimming with each shot until it turned into a full-on grimace and after a thorough reprimand from the photographer, he gave up entirely and went for a more stoic look like the rest of them.
They were finally released a little bit before dinner and Harry was thankful, for if it had gone on any longer, he would surely began shooting curses at anyone who even mentioned a camera! He was sure to let Anthony know just how horrid the experience had been afterward when the other Ravenclaw had made a comment about Harry being lucky to have gotten excused from classes for the rest of the day. Not much of a promising start to the tournament.
The weekend before the first task was the first official Hogsmead trip of the year and although Harry had never been overly fond of the trips, with the goading of his friends he caved rather quickly. He did have to say, however, there were parts of the trip that he actually quite enjoyed. It was nice to spend time with his friends outside of the castle.
With the pressure of the first task looming over Harry's head, he was rather tense the past few weeks, and rightly so. It was nice to be able to do something that didn't involve the tournament.
The only minor setback that morning happened as soon as they sat down for breakfast that morning. Moody strode down the center aisle with his customary limp and stopped at their group. Harry waited curiously to see what the disguised Death Eater would do, but was quick to hide his shock when Moody spoke to Ginny instead of him. His tone was firm yet quiet as he barked at the youngest Weasley to follow him to his office.
Slightly worried for his friend, Harry wanted to secretly follow them and find out what's going on, but he couldn't easily duck away from his friends and if he told them, they'd just want to come along which would only spell trouble. Unfortunately, Ginny didn't return in time and they had to go to Hogsmead without her so he couldn't ask her about the meeting immediately after.
With nothing to do about it, Harry just focused on the trip and tried to push his curiosity to the back of his mind.
Thankfully, Ginny didn't miss out completely on her first Hogsmead trip and was able to rejoin them halfway through as they sipped warm butterbeers at the Hogshead. However, Ginny was not in the excited and exuberant mood she'd been in before breakfast and it quickly drew Harry's attention to her. When asked, Ginny told them that Moody had brought her up to his office because her brother, Charlie, had made a surprise visit and Moody was allowing them to see each other even though the tournament made it so guest access to the school was rather restricted during the time between events and they wouldn't have been able to see each other otherwise. Everyone else just figured Moody, being acquainted with the Weasleys, was doing them a friendly favor, only Harry knew better.
The young Gryffindor seemed to once again get into the spirit of things as they moved on to browse a few shops. However, the moment she was able to speak to Harry without being overheard, she quietly instructed him to go down to the forbidden forest that night after curfew and to bring his invisibility cloak. Harry immediately agreed and soon found himself wishing for the trip tocome to a swift end and for night to fall. Obviously more had happened in that meeting than she'd let on and he had a feeling that with Moody's involvement it might be the result of the dark lord's idea of 'help.'
When they returned to the castle that afternoon, it became clear that Ginny had no intention of discussing the matter further until nightfall. With thoughts devoted solely on the meeting, Harry was in no state to enjoy the company of his friends and managed to slip off, spouting something about wishing to practice some more spells before the first task.
Harry kept himself busy for the remainder of the evening by going down to the Chamber to continue preparing a few ingredients he would need for the resurrection. He didn't have everything just yet, but there were only one or two things he was missing and only because he hadn't had the time to go out and retrieve them yet.
As is, the resurrection ritual didn't require very complex ingredients—relying mostly on the magical power of the caster—but one had to also consider Voldemort's . . . unique predicament with the state of his current 'body,' the damage he'd done to himself both through dark, counterfeit rituals and what pitiful lengths he'd gone to just to cling to life, as well as the fact that Harry would be simultaneously combining all of the horcruxes at once into an almost complete human soul, giving said soul a 'permanent horcrux' to ensure immortality, and creating a fully functional body untainted by the man's past mistakes to house that soul. All of that taken into consideration, Harry had to make a lot of revisions and alterations to the original ritual and those revisions meant far more complex and delicate ingredients had to be used.
Since Harry didn't know when he would be taken, he could only hope that it wouldn't be until after the first task because his job would be much harder if he didn't have all of his ingredients on hand. Once they were finished, he would have to start carrying everything he needed around with him in the small, undetectable and magically expanded pouch he'd gotten from Gringotts that was supposed to hold his money but would serve another purpose just fine. Harry would need to add additional wards to it, since he would need to be able to bring it with him into the tasks and they would likely be checked with very thorough spells to make sure they didn't sneak anything in to give them an upper hand.
Harry was so caught up in burning an assortment of animal bones until they turned black and could be ground up into bone char that he missed dinner and it was nearing curfew. Cursing under his breath, Harry quickly placed the bone char under a stasis spell that would remain until he lifted it himself, and cleaned himself off as he hurried out of the chamber. If Harry didn't share a room with Michael and Terry, he wouldn't have bothered returning to the dorms to keep up appearances, but despite what had happened the previous year and the fact that his three housemates still had trouble meeting his gaze, Harry didn't trust either boy enough to not take any opportunity he left dangling for them to get him into trouble.
So, Harry ascended through the near-deserted castle and made it back into the common room just as curfew hit. When he saw Anthony, already wearing his usual loose t-shirt and boxers with a drying white smudge of toothpaste at the corner of his mouth, he made sure to apologize aloud about missing dinner and disappointing the two eavesdroppers with a rather dull story about a night of research in the library. Anthony gave Harry a pointed look once the other two had their backs turned, it told the raven-haired boy that he knew that he hadn't been anywhere near the library and he knew that Harry was up to something.
Harry turned away just as his lips involuntarily curled upwards, but he didn't turn fast enough for his friend to miss the brief slip of his cool composure.
It wasn't long before they'd all gone to bed and Harry heard the slow breathing from the one half of the room he'd been concerned about. Harry quickly transfigured his pajamas into plain black robes, pulled his invisibility cloak over his shoulders and was slipping quietly out of his curtains when the bed next to his creaked lightly and the blue curtains moved aside to reveal the heavily shadowed face of his friend.
"Where are you going?" Anthony's soft whisper drifted only far enough for Harry to hear, however, Harry still slipped fully from his bed in order to move closer to Anthony so as to guarantee that they wouldn't wake the others. There was still a lot that he couldn't tell Anthony, but if he was right and this was about the upcoming task then it wouldn't hurt anything to allow his friend to join him.
"A little nightly excursion, care to join me?" Harry whispered back in a slightly playful uptick, his smile mostly masked by the darkness.
Anthony's answer came in the form of him moving silently out of his own bed and transfiguring his clothes into robes that would protect against the cold night. Harry didn't waste another moment and quickly threw his invisibility cloak over them both. Anthony was getting to be rather tall, but thankfully the cloak was made to cover a full-grown man, so it covered them both from head to foot—though they had to walk almost front to back as they crept out of the dorms.
It was a little slower getting out of the castle with Anthony also under the cloak since they often stepped on each other's feet in the close quarters, but by the time the made it outside, it thankfully wasn't too-late into the night. When they found Ginny hiding behind a tree right at the edge of the forest, she barely even blinked at the additional company and just slipped under the cloak as well and pulled both boys immediately into the forest. Harry didn't have time to ask what was going on seeing as they were practically jogging through the immense forest with Ginny mumbling under her breath about 'catching up' and 'almost missed them.' She didn't slow down until they spotted the towering forms of two very imposing figures slowly making their way through the forest as well. It took only a moment to match the silhouettes to the only people tall enough to fit them—Hagrid and Madame Maxime.
They stayed a good 5 meters behind the pair that looked as though they were taking a romantic stroll in the clear night. Harry could feel Anthony beginning to get antsy behind him, either from the cold seeping through the thin cloak or the fact that minutes were draining away while nothing of interest was happening. But just as Anthony opened his mouth to probably voice such complaints, the thick trunks to the trees ahead lit up in the dim light of something flashing in the distance. The light clearly didn't come from a spell as it wavered and flicked in a warm amber glow before slowly fading.
Madame Maxime froze for a moment before gliding forward to see what that distant sound of commotion was all about. Hagrid, as well as the invisibly trio, quickly followed the entranced Headmistress and the sounds of shouts, heavy chains straining their links, and groaning wood filled the night air as clouds of breath were ignited by a bright blaze of light.
Through the trees, a clearing was beginning to come into view the closer they got and they moved off to the side so that they could get closer to the clearing without getting too close to the couple they had been following. Harry first noticed what looked like a temporary camp site, with small tents scattered all about the half of the clearing they were closest to. Then his attention was captured by the brilliant eruption of fire and smoke from the other half where four large wooden storage containers sat, trembling from the force of whatever was inside. One container in particular shuddered violently before the wood finally broke apart to reveal the thick iron cage within that seemed about the same size as the wooden container had been.
Harry's eyes widened and for a moment his lungs froze as memories soared through his system with the same force as lightning. Memories of scarred pale flesh and the weak tremble of a long-abused body. The beast filling his vision right then was nothing like the creature he'd brought peace to in Gringotts. This one was powerful, muscled limbs and black and russet scales broke through with stark white spikes around its head and along its tail.
Harry absently cast a silencing charm around them and turned to Ginny.
"Dragons?!" His voice was high and incredulous. Ginny grimaced in sympathy and nodded.
"When I got to Professor Moody's office earlier, he left me and Charlie alone to talk. Apparently, with the unexpected fourth champion they needed to quickly adjust and the reserve Charlie works at had one of the closest dragons available that fit their criteria, so he arrived just last night. In the chaos of it all, they had neglected to include Charlie into the privacy wards that would prevent him from telling anyone about his business here and came straight here to tell me so that I could pass it on to you." She explained, looking slightly guilty that she hadn't told him sooner, though Harry didn't notice as he'd been caught up on something she said earlier.
"Wait, what 'criteria?'" At this, Ginny's grimace worsened.
"All of the dragons need to be different, dangerous, healthy, and . . . nesting." That final word had Anthony draining of color and Harry's brow to scrunch up in consternation. That certainly complicating things. If these dragons were new mothers, then it didn't matter how 'benign' of a species he faced, they would be incredibly dangerous and would try to kill him just on principle.
"They're absolutely mad!" Anthony finally spoke, still staring at the enraged dragon that used what very little space it had in the cage to beat against the bars and blast fiery plumes out at the frantic caretakers trying to contain the beast. The thought of Harry being anywhere near such a creature made him physically ill. Not for the first time, Anthony wished he could take his friend's place and protect the one who was so precious to him. Unfortunately, the goblet didn't allow for trading places and it was abundantly clear that nothing would be held back in the tournament just because of the one too-young champion now in their midst.
Harry had been silent for several minutes, frowning as he stewed deep in his own thoughts. Although he was not exactly optimistic about the first task being in any way 'easy' at least now he had a key bit of knowledge about it and could begin the process of running through scenarios and possible plans in his head. He'd finally got what he'd asked for and could now formulate the best way to get through the task without any 'impossible' feats of magic or revealing his immortality through an undoubtedly gruesome death in front of hundreds of spectators.
Harry was combing through what he knew about dragons off hand when something in his memories caught his attention and he immediately felt the first inklings of a plan forming. At the same time, Hagrid and Madame Maxime seemed to have got an eyeful and were making their way back towards the castle. Harry noticed and turned towards the other two under the cloak with him.
"You two should follow them back to the castle to make sure you don't get lost, I'll be a few minutes behind you." Harry was already casting strong disillusionment spells on them both that would last for the next half-hour. "I suggest you hurry, those spells won't last long." Anthony immediately began to protest.
"I'm not leaving you out here in the middle of the forbidden forest with a bunch of dragons, Harry!" As he spoke, Harry pulled the cloak up and off of them, letting his face show through the edge of the cloak as his back was to the clearing. Harry could still see the edges of where his friends were as he was connected by his magic to the very spells concealing them.
"I'll be fine! I have my cloak and certainly know my way around spells if anything happens. There's just one small thing I need to see to, then I'll be back at the dorms before you can even fall asleep, and we both know how quickly that can be." Harry finished with a teasing smirk and heard a small derisive snort from the smaller concealed figure.
A heavy sigh clouded in the air as Anthony succumbed to the unshakable will of his best mate. Reluctantly, Anthony took a small comfort in this particular trait of Harrys, knowing that some of his worries were eased by the knowledge that Harry was neither easily manipulated nor easy prey for those with harmful intentions.
"Promise?" Anthony's tone was softer than before and in turn it caused Harry's expression to soften as well. Harry nodded.
"Promise." And with that, the pair hurried after the two half-giants that already had quite the head start on them.
Harry turned back to the clearing as he once again lowered the cloak into place. The encampment wasn't as hectic as it had been a few minutes ago when one of the dragons was attempting to escape or take them all down trying, but most of the caretakers and other various staff were still outside and quickly working to subdue the dragons for the night. Harry carefully moved between the tents on silent feet until he got to one that had just been vacated with lights still on inside.
Harry slipped inside of the magically expanded tent, which looked relatively similar to the Weasley's tent at the Quidditch World Cup the previous summer with its multiple curtained off rooms and plenty of furniture to bring comfort to the temporary accommodations. Harry didn't stay idle, moving quickly into the tent and beginning his search of the few chests and wardrobes around the tent—having to carefully disarm wards and protection spells to get inside.
Thankfully, there weren't many places that could hold what Harry was looking for so it didn't take long for him to determine that the tent didn't have what he needed. He soon moved on to the next, and then the next. Knowing that time was ticking by and Anthony would not be happy if he remained out any longer, Harry sincerely hoped that the fourth tent would yield a different result.
It would seem that lady luck was finally favoring Harry in this small instance. The fourth tent was a bit more lavish and finely furnished than the others, with a table in the center pilled with open texts and unrolled scrolls. It also had not only two trunks and a wardrobe, but also a clear cabinet that seemed to hold row after row of various potions. Harry bypassed the trunks and wardrobe and went straight for the cabinet.
The cabinet also seemed to be the most heavily warded, so it took more time and effort on Harry's end, but soon he was slicing through the last of the wards like butter and opened the glass doors. But Harry seemed to be faced with yet another problem, while all of the potions seemed to have their own unique bottle, vial, or jar, nothing in the cabinet was labelled. Either the owner of the tent was incredibly paranoid, or very well versed in potions and too lazy to bother labeling what they could already easily identify.
Harry bit his lip and slipped his hand out from under his cloak in order to shift around the bottles and try to get a look at their contents, even though he knew he wouldn't be able to identify it by sight alone. Harry was about to give up and move on to the next tent in hopes of actually labelled bottles when he felt the cool silky touch of the veil wrap around his wrist, the faint unyielding pressure of a bone hand beyond the phantom touch, and guide it gently over to the very back corner of one of the cabinet shelves, his fingers were pushed down to graze against the cool glass stopper of a bottle so that there was no mistaking which one it was.
Harry grabbed the bottle, as well as the identical bottle right next to it and pulled them both out. Inside was a clear liquid that looked no different than water, but Harry knew that what was inside was not something one should drink. Harry slipped one into his pocket and then cast a duplication spell on the other, placing both the real and the fake back in the cabinet. The duplication spell would only last until someone tried to pick it up, and then it would disappear, so no one would be in danger if they tried to use ineffective duplicate.
Having retrieved what he'd come for, Harry quickly made his way back to the castle under the cover of his cloak. On his way back, however, he noticed another figure moving through the forest, away from the encampment. Once they both moved out of the line of trees and into the dim light of the moon, Harry identified the other as Igor Karkaroff, the Durmstrang Headmaster. 'Well, I suppose that means that three of the champions already know about the dragons, only leaving one in the dark.' Harry thought as he slipped into the castle. He decided that he would need to pay a certain Hufflepuff a visit before the first task. It was only fair.
When he finally made it back to the dorms, Anthony was sitting up and awake on his bed with the curtains pulled back. They didn't say anything, Anthony just gave Harry a questioning look and Harry nodded once. They both went to bed that night, but it was a while before either boy was able to quell the never-ending tide of thoughts and drift into the solace of slumber.
