(A/N): The first task has arrived!

I apologize for the delay in the release of this chapter; nasty case of writer's block got the better of me.

Also, should probably mention. This story's title is actually an interlude in TOOL's 2019 album Fear Inoculum. It roughly translates to Litany against fear.

If you have any thoughts, concerns, or ideas for improvement; please be sure to let me know!
Any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone!.

Hope you all enjoy!


Skin made of puzzle pieces made her whole. Each piece interlocking together to make a complete picture.

Everyone wants to be whole, to be complete.

Sometimes she'd offer her pieces, handing them to those who still needed a few. Sometimes she'd run out.

It wasn't painful to give away her pieces. Though she wondered why no one ever offered her any.


"Do you think he's going to be okay?"

"Of course he is, this is Wonder Boy we're talking about."

"But what if something goes wrong?"

"Then he'll improvise."

"I don't want to be the reason he dies!"

"He survived the killing curse, a dragon isn't going to kill him."

"Maybe, but it's still a bloody dragon!"

"A dragon, which we've prepared for."

"Even the best-laid plans and preparations can fail!"

"Daffy, honestly, just leave it. Harry will be fine."

"But—"

"Daphne!" Tracey spun on her heel, her fists coiling together as she gave her best friend a steely glare.

Daphne paled at her friend's outburst, her lips forming a thin line as Tracey inhaled deeply, screwing her eyes shut in the process.

"He's going to be fine, Daffy, your plan is amazing," The calmness in Tracey's voice was forced, but no less genuine; her once frowning lips now jutting upwards into a strained but pleased smile.

Daphne eyed her friend cautiously, she knew her fears were getting the best of her; her irrationalities taking over despite what little sense they made. Nodding her head shakily, Daphne conceded to Tracey's point; tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she did so.

"Yes… yes, you're right."

Tracey sighed, rubbing her face in her hands as she turned back around. Her tongue poked out from her mouth to wet her lips, stress rolling off her shoulders as Tracey all but marched to the stands of the arena for the first task.

"Honestly Daffy, you two spent weeks perfecting this plan and nothing! Not a shred of self-doubt while you're constructing it," Tracey huffed, her body tensing as she ranted. "But now, for the past twelve and a half hours! Nothing but blah-blah-blah, something is going to go wrong!"

Letting out an annoyed grunt, Tracey spun around once more to face her friend; her visage set in a worried, but annoyed scowl. "Where in the world did this come from?!"

Daphne could feel herself bristle at the query, her jaw tightening; her hands curling together to the point her knuckles turned white. She inhaled deeply, pointing her chin out ever so slightly to try to keep her calm.

"I don't know, alright," Daphne ground out, her words coming out in a tense growl as her eyes sharpened. "Although, I have my suspicions, and I'm sure you do as well."

Tracey studied her friend for a few moments, her nose scrunching and her cheeks gaining a reddish hue as her lips pressed together into a thin line. Without uttering a word, she turned around; walking down the pathway to the first task's arena without offering Daphne a second glance.

Daphne took a few calming breaths to steady herself, her fists uncoiling as she slowly started to continue her trek to the arena.

"Tracey's right," she thought to herself, her inner dialogue's conviction still ripe with small holes of doubt. Daphne clasped her hands in front of her navel, picking at her nails to help sidetrack her thoughts.

"Tracey's right."


"You listen to me, Boy!"

Harry cocked his head to the side unnaturally, his jaw clamping shut and his eyes squeezing closed. His mind was plagued with vile thoughts and memories he desperately tried to will away. Durmstrang's champion, Viktor Krum, had cast a Conjunctivitis curse on his dragon, the Chinese Fireball, the lumbering beast stumbling and growling in confusion and anger as Viktor made his way up to its waiting nest; his golden egg mere feet away from him.

The dragon's large, hulking body had slammed repeatedly against the stone walls of the arena, letting out roars of pain. Each time it's scaly form collided with stone, the small tent housing the champions shook from the vibrations alone; dust falling from the rafters in front of Harry's face as he stared off into oblivion. Each collision would send more dust into the air; swirling in grotesque patterns before fading from existence.

"Just like the stairway cabinet," Harry could feel a bittersweet grin form on his face.

SLAM

"BOY!"

Harry's head twitched to the side again; twirling it around as if trying to crack a stiff neck.

SLAM

"YOU LITTLE FREAK!"

Uncle Vernon's burly fists pounding on his small doorway; Dudley jumping on the steps above sending sheets of dust to fall into his eyes.

SLAM

"YOU WORTHLESS TWERP!"

Harry released a heavy breath, his nostrils flaring out while a heavy sigh also escaped his throat. The dragon outside let out a roar of pain, the tell-tale ignition of its fiery breath basking the arena in a scorching heat; the spectators letting out gasps of surprise as the tendrils of fire wrapped around the stadium.

It became eerily silent for a few fleeting moments, the crowd sucking in a collective gasp. Something had happened, whether it was Viktor's untimely demise or his victory, Harry didn't know; though he assumed it was the latter.

A few more seconds of silence stretched out before the audience erupted into a chorus of cheers, confirming Harry's thoughts. A flurry of shouts, claps, and whistles resonated throughout the circular arena. Harry couldn't help but grin at the resounding applause.

Despite the upbeat attitude flooding the arena and subsequently, the Champion Tent, Harry couldn't help but feel small bubbles of panic rise within him; even as Viktor's cheers of congratulation died down to a dull whisper.

He was next. As soon as that cannon let out its deafening shot, mere meters above his head, he'd have to walk into that dreaded arena and face a dragon - The Hungarian Horntail - with only his and Daphne's plan, and a daunting will to succeed.

Harry nodded to himself as he drew a deep breath, subconsciously curling his hands as he stood. He could do this. All he had to do was go in there and follow the plan; if all went well, the dragon would merely be an afterthought.

Filch lit the cannon above, the artillery weapon launching its payload with a disorienting bang.

Harry felt his breath hitch in his throat; the oxygen in his lungs seemingly being torn out by some invisible force as he eyed the entrance to the arena with an unsteady gaze. Harry clenched his fists as he began his march to the interior of the arena.

"You promise me right now, Potter, that during this stupid tournament you will not get yourself killed. Do you understand me?"

Harry nodded fervently to himself, replaying Daphne's request over and over in his head. He made a promise, and he'd be damned if he didn't keep it.

Harry walked towards the opening to the arena with newfound conviction; his hands curling into fists as the bright opening slowly expanded. The afternoon sun, though hindered by clouds, burned Harry's eyes as he exited the champion tent; raising his arm to block out its rays, Harry winced as he entered the arena, the subsequent cheering of his name sending his stomach through a loop as another bout of reality quickly came crashing down upon his shoulders.

He was about to fight a dragon. An actual dragon. Behind his glasses, Harry's eyes frantically started searching for the familiar mop of blonde hair as well as the equally familiar black beanie. The sudden urge to confirm that their weeks spent perfecting his plan was a reality and not an overly complex dream.

Harry's eyes locked with his intended tragedy; a worried but hopeful smile resting on Daphne's face while Tracey was grinning, giving enthusiastic thumbs up to Harry as she bounced up and down on the bench she sat upon. As Harry studied their smiling faces, his resolve clicked into place. He straightened his back and his jaw grew tighter.

Harry tentatively crawled over the jagged rock formations of the arena, searching for his reptilian enemy and its desired egg with hawk-like eyes. He swore he could hear the Horntail growling somewhere from inside the arena; letting out a disgusting, guttural sound as it watched him from who knew where. Harry ignored the growls as he cautiously moved forward along the stones, suppressing the urge to stop his ministrations to search for the behemoth hunting him.

The cheering of the crowd had dulled to a hushed whisper at this point, idle chatter mingling throughout as they questioned Harry's moves. From in the stands, they watched as the wizard crawled along the jagged stones, the beast he faced watching him with its slit-like eyes from behind cover; waiting as it studied his every move.

Harry could hear - feel even - the dragon's claws grind against the stone of the arena, the horrible screeching an afterthought in Harry's mind as his eyes finally located his desired item.

The golden egg was laying there in the dragon's nest; it's shiny shell contrasting the dull greys and browns of the other eggs it rested with. The prized object laid mere meters away from where Harry sat crouched. Harry swallowed thickly as he twirled his wand in his hand; the easy part was dealt with.

Crouching down low behind a wall of stone, Harry released a heavy breath, curling his hand over his wand in apprehension before initiating their plan.

"Serpensortia," he whispered, jabbing his wand out violently as its tip exploded with a violent light.

A collective gasp ran through the crowd as a large, black snake curled in on itself among the stone; it's slender head and beady eyes looking around in confusion.

"SSSnake!" The horrible hissing of Parseltongue sent another gasp throughout the crowd, this time followed with murmurs of confusion and apprehension.

The snake's beady eyes snapped to Harry in an instant as the black reptile slithered towards the boy

"You! Sssspeaker, what isss the meaning of thisss?" The snake asked, lifting its head off of the ground as if to study its summoner. Harry ignored the question for a few moments; quickly casting a disillusionment charm upon the reptile before violently pointing towards the golden egg.

"Lisssten to me, I need you to get me that egg. The one that ssstands out!" The snake seemed to ponder the request; its black eyes flickered between the golden egg and Harry's emerald green eyes with an intensity Harry never thought possible in a snake.

"Isss that my purpossse?" The snake questioned further. Harry peeked around the rock he used as cover, catching the haunting yellow eyes of the Hungarian Horntail in between the crevice of two larger rocks.

The dragon's slitted pupils sharpened dangerously, its distinct growl filling the arena as it raised its head from behind the large rocks. Harry sucked in a sharp breath at the sight, quickly turning his head to face where the snake was still waiting as he nodded his head quickly.

"Yesss! Yesss, now go! I mussst keep the beassst occupied!" Harry ordered, gesturing flippantly towards where the collection of eggs rested. He prayed the snake abided to the command as he rolled violently to the other side of his rock. Harry landed on his stomach, a small fragment of stone still covering him as he came face to face with the Hungarian Horntail.

Harry felt his throat close at the sight; the dragon was big, much bigger than Harry initially thought. The beast's snout was curled into an angered snarl, it's crown of bone-like protrusions flexing on their own volition as it released an ear-shattering roar. Harry fought the urge to cover his ears at the hate-filled sound, quickly putting into motion the next part of the plan.

Harry ignored the behemoth's cries of anger as he summoned a vast majority of Muggle creatures, much to the confusion of many spectators.

A pair of lions; a set of silverback gorillas, a pack of grey wolves, a trio of hyenas. The dragon watched in confusion as the new animals appeared from thin air, letting out a snarl as it ducked away cautiously, growling dangerously as it did so.

Harry chanced a glance towards the nest of eggs, letting out a relieved sigh as the golden egg jostled around as if something was wrapping around its shell. His attention snapped back towards the defensive dragon, steadying himself for his next task.

"Confringo!" The blasting curse collided with the sharpened nose of the dragon, the dragon recoiling in surprise as the fiery explosion connected with its wee crown.

The dragon snapped its head over to Harry, snarling savagely at the smaller wizard with an aggression Harry was familiar with. The behemoth reared its head back, it's hate-filled gaze flickering between Harry and his several conjured creatures with violent intent. Harry couldn't help but feel small under the beast's gaze, subconsciously gripping his wand tighter. Clenching his jaw, Harry waited for the dragon to make the first move.

The spectators watched with bated breath; Daphne's hand had found Tracey's wrist during the exchange between Harry and his conjured snake, her nails digging into her friend's skin. Tracey barely reacted to the sensation as she wiggled her hand upwards, clasping it around Daphne's hand to give it a reassuring squeeze.

It was with a panicked scream that Daphne watched as the Horntail suddenly slammed its claws into the stone floor; it's tail whipping towards Harry with the speed of a cutting hex. The bony protrusion tore into Harry's right arm, nearly slicing it in half as it pushed him to the ground with a sudden scream of pain erupting from the boy's throat.

The animals conjured reacted viciously; leaping towards the hulking dragon as they all let out their respective cries of anger. The lions had sunk their teeth into the dragon's throat, nearly puncturing it's hardened scales as it attempted to shake them off; the wolves had gone for the legs, biting and tearing at its ligaments with reckless abandon; the silverback gorillas had opted for a more brutish approach, using their immense upper body strength to climb up onto the crown of the giant reptile, slamming their fists down into its eyes as the beast let out howls and roars of pain. The hyenas remained the odd ones out, circling the dragon slowly as if waiting for a more opportune moment to attack.

Daphne and Tracey had barely paid mind to the animalistic war that had been transpiring. Both witches watched as Harry feebly crawled behind a set of rocks, applying pressure to the deep - almost limb severing - cut that now rested on his bicep. Blood oozed from the torn flesh, seeping into his ripped jersey as well as falling from his limp fingertips.

This was bad. Harry knew that this was bad; horrible even. For a split second - with blood pouring out of his arm like a drink from a broken bottle, Harry swore he was once again in the Chamber of Secrets in his second year; sweat pooling around his brow as the Basilisk venom slithered its way through his bloodstream like a parasite. Gritting his teeth, Harry shook the thoughts away; barely hearing the muffled yelps and cries of both his animals and the still distracted dragon.

He had Fawkes then, a few of the mythical birds tears rendering the injury gained from the Basilisk no worse than a scrape; the only remnants of the near-fatal cut being the discolored skin of a scar. Harry grimaced at the memory as the blood loss suddenly became very apparent. His vision blurred significantly as a sudden wave of nausea raked over him; a spell of dizziness hit Harry like a freight train.

Harry chuckled grimly to himself, pushing himself up with his viable arm to fire a Reducto at the ground near the snout of the dragon, spraying dust and rock chunks into the beast's eyes as it let out an angered growl.

"What I wouldn't give to have that flaming bird's tears right now," He thought morosely, firing a Diffindo towards the raging dragon from behind the rock he used as cover.

Harry chanced a look towards the nest holding his golden egg. The still disillusioned snake had definitely made progress, the prized item sitting about halfway between himself and the nest as it rolled slowly towards him. The mental image of the small black snake using its head to roll the egg sent a bittersweet chuckle through Harry. His final thoughts consisting of a fiery bird and a snake pushing an egg, had the blood loss affected him that badly?

"Fiery," the term shot through Harry's mind like a bullet, his eyes widening to extreme levels as an idea came to fruition. It was crude he would admit, and Daphne most certainly was going to hurt him for it, but it was better than nothing.

Sending a quick glance towards his two Slytherin friends, Harry's composure nearly cracked at the wide-eyed Daphne and the wincing Tracey. The brunette seemingly caught his gaze, offering a wimpy thumbs up at his incredulous expression. Daphne, however, was not as carefree; her nose scrunched in worry and anger, her expression promising him that he wasn't leaving the arena without some form of scolding.

Harry shook his head at the sight; quickly steadying his breath, as he began ignoring the blood still pouring from his wound. With a determined scowl, Harry stood up, watching as the dragon tore one of the lion's away from its throat; stumbling away from the still attacking animals as they all quickly recuperated to attack the raging reptile once again; the hyenas had finally joined the scuffle, sinking their maws into the large beast's leathery wings. Harry swore he could see the smallest inkling of fear in the dragon's slitted gaze.

"Accio Stone!" The wizard shouted, a slab of the arena soaring into the only body part he could use to slow the object down; his chest. Harry winced at the pain, fearing already that he had broken at least one of his ribs.

With a shake of his head, Harry focused on his new task. Pointing his wand at the slab of stone, Harry transfigured the slab into a Muggle pan, sucking in a sharp breath as his next incantation left his lips.

"Incendio!" The pan ignited in a bright glow of orange, the flames from his wand acting similarly to the tendrils of flame that had erupted from the Hungarian Horntail's mouth as it desperately fought off Harry's conjured animals.

As the flames receded, Harry eyed the sizzling cooking ware with an anxious grimace; watching its dull red glow with bulged eyes. The wizard transfigured a smaller portion of rock into a leather cap, gingerly picking it up to place it into his mouth.

Daphne had realized in a near-instant what Harry was about to do, her small hand leaving the enclave of her friend's, to rest over her mouth; much to Tracey's annoyance as well as relief.

"He's not going to…" Daphne trailed off as she watched Harry, her best male friend picking up the still boiling cooking ware with shaky hands.

The next few seconds confirmed her suspicions, Daphne watching in horror as Harry pressed the sweltering metal to his bleeding wound. The wizard's head bent back, his jaw growing taught; teeth, baring into the leather cap as he let out a muffled howl that seemed to echo throughout the arena, drowning out the now panicked roads of the now-forgotten dragon.

Both Daphne and Tracey gasped at the act, both of their eyes widening for the umpteenth time in fear. Harry pulled the cooking ware away from his arm; the blood pouring from the angry wound had turned to a dull mahogany shade, grotesque white puss and dead skin accumulating around the cauterized wound. A large, flaring burn mark in the shape of a circle covered the injury. Harry spat the leather cap out, proceeding to let out winces of pain as he did so.

Despite the searing pain shooting through his nerves, Harry let a content smile grow on his face. With both the bleeding dealt with, the dragon still in a heated exchange with Harry's conjured animals - every creature no doubt exhausted at this rate, and his summoned snake mere centimeters away from him; Harry knew that he had at least completed this task.

Harry moved to look over the rocks again, watching as the dragon whipped its head around in fury, releasing its fiery breath in a desperate attempt to free itself from the clutches of Harry's conjured animals.

It worked. The plan had worked! The dragon was to bust dealing with Harry's conjured animals that it paid no mind to the invisible force moving its egg towards Harry, the wizard in question taking cover behind various rocks while animals did everything - besides healing wounds with less than stellar methods - for him.

Harry could feel something hard nudge against his leg, looking down, he saw the golden egg bumping into his thigh three times. The disillusioned charm on the snake slowly wore off, leaving the black reptile exposed as it stared at Harry with its beady eyes. Harry smiles down at the small snake, curling his good arm around the golden prize as he tucked his knees beneath him, preparing to stand.

"Thank you," Harry placed the golden egg protectively under his arm; Harry struggled to his feet, his teeth, baring as a searing hot pain shot through his injured arm. White spots entered Harry's vision as he nearly toppled over; a hobble was present in his step as he exited the arena. The cool shell of the golden egg seemed to wash over Harry, the sought out item doing little - but enough - to cool his still raging burn mark.

The cheering of the crowds was diluted by the roaring of blood in Harry's ears, the wizard's thoughts a disoriented mess of the color yellow and brown.


The moments leading after the first task flew by Harry near-instantaneously. First had been Madam Pomfrey's immediate bouts of sputtering as he entered the Medi-Tent set up for the champions.

"Di-Did you cauterize that wound?!"

Harry could only offer the rapidly aging Medi-Witch a sheepish grin, the sound of rapid footsteps following soon.

"You blubbering idiot, Harry James Potter!" Daphne looked livid. Her face was deep enough red to make Harry swear she was a very distant relative of the Weasley's; Daphne's hair appeared frazzled and askew, strands sticking in seemingly every direction. Her beautiful, deep green eyes were set in the harshest glare she had ever aimed at the Seeker; her hands coiled so tightly together that her knuckles grew white, her nails digging into her palms to the point of bloodshed. Stomping her way in front of Harry, Daphne violently poked a finger into the boy's chest. "You stupid, stupid Gryffindor!"

Then came the hitting.

Daphne's still clenched fist collided rather harshly with Harry's non-injured arm, the wizard recoiling back as he let out various protests at the action; Daphne didn't relent, her right hand being raised only to come roaring down on his arm again, and again. Harry expected to blanch at the assault, worrying that horrid memories and thoughts would plague his mind during the ordeal, but unlike his Uncle, - who's fists burned with hatred and pure contempt - Daphne's bombardments held a strange mixture of concern, anger, and the smallest hints of fear.

"What happened to our promise, you - you imbecile?!" Daphne grabbed Harry's arms harshly, the wizard hissing in pain for a second time as her nails dug into his biceps.

"Daph, it's just a cut; at no point was I under the threat of death, I'm fine," Harry said calmly, hoping to placate his seething friend. Unfortunately, his attempts only seemed to anger her further.

"Don't. Call me that right now!" Daphne spat out. Turning her attention over to Harry's injured arm, - his skin coated in dried blood, painting it dark mahogany - she scoffed. "Just a cut, he says. You nearly lost your arm!"

Daphne shook both of his arms for emphasis, Madam Pomfrey protesting quite verbally, worrying over the possible reopening of the wound as Daphne let out her aggression. Harry had remained calm throughout, slowly edging his way out of the Slytherin's grasp.

"Daphne," Harry started softly, abiding by her earlier request to not use her nickname. Daphne's vice grip loosened ever so slightly, her angered glare softening as she stared at Harry. "It was just a cut. I dealt with it, didn't I?"

Daphne's eyes flew over to the scorched wound, her nose crinkling in disgust at the discolored wound. She barely resisted the urge to finish the dragon's job and slice off Harry's arm; to prove her point that he nearly lost it she rationalized.

"Dealt with it in the most barbaric way conceivable," she muttered her now present tone a clear contrast to her previous bout of shouting. Daphne lazily traced a finger over Harry's angered skin, her digit curling back at his small gasp of discomfort.

Despite Daphne's obtuse mood, Harry chanced a smile, gently prying the hand that was still curled around his arm off.

"I'm fine, Daphne," He stated, voice gentle but holding a firm reassurance within it.

Daphne's glare had long since disappeared, a worried frown creasing her features. Harry's hand, held hers gently mere inches away from him, his thumb tucked into her palm while his fingers curled around her knuckles. Her pine green eyes locked onto his emerald green ones; searching for any trace of deceit behind them.

All she could find was a soft smile full of comfort.

With a sudden jerk, Daphne pulled her hands away from Harry's arms and hand, opting to run her fingers through her messy hair in a vain attempt to tame it. With a heavy breath, she threw on a much more supercilious look.

"You're no good to anyone dead, Harry," She spoke as if scolding a small child, earning an eye roll from the subject of her annoyance. "I'd implore you to abide by that promise."

Harry chuckled softly at the remark, Daphne's eyes sharpening again at the sound.

"Is that Greengrass for, 'I was worried about you'?" Harry joked. Daphne's haughty frown quirked up ever so slightly into a grin. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Daphne tried to keep up her snobby facade.

"I suppose," Daphne bit on her inner cheek to maintain her indifferent look. A small smile that toyed at her lips ruined the effect. "It could be."

Harry let out another bout of chuckles, clutching his side with his good hand as he reared his head back. Daphne dropped her cold expression; putting on a small, but slightly distraught smile.

"I was worried, Harry," she stated. Clasping her hands together, Daphne clenched her jaw. "Tracey, too."

Harry's laughs died down slowly, a warm smile taking place on his features.

"Well, you two had nothing to worry about," Harry placed his non-injured hand on Daphne's shoulder, giving the smaller girl a squeeze of reassurance. "The plan worked like a charm."

Daphne raised her hand to idly tap just outside the circumference of Harry's scorched skin. Her lingering touch sent a shiver up Harry's spine, a small sigh escaping him as the sensation. Daphne frowned at the reaction.

"Well… clearly could've worked better," despite her light-hearted tone, the clear cut concern that coated Daphne's voice strangely pulled at Harry's heart.

He wasn't used to this. Someone caring about his wellbeing. Even throughout the three-year friendship, he shared between Ron and Hermione - one he still needed to fix, possibly - didn't compare to the way Daphne looked at the sweltering injury as if she herself could feel it. It was… strange.

The hand that hovered over his injury, slowly - cautiously - wrapped its way around Harry's body; Daphne's other hand slowly followed suit. Harry could feel Daphne slowly press her cheek against his chest, her arms tightening around him protectively. Harry couldn't help but reciprocate the hug. Feeling Daphne shiver under his embrace, Harry smirked.

"Still rubbish at warming charms?" He asked teasingly, earning a light slap on the chest from the Slytherin he held.

"Git," Daphne mumbled in return, not a trace of malice coated the insult.

"Ahh, Ms. Greengrass, well isn't this a lovely surprise."

Harry nearly toppled over when Daphne pushed herself away from him, her face turning beet red in a moment's notice. Harry chuckled at his friend as he turned to face the entrance of the medical tent. Dumbledore stood in the small opening, the other champions and their respective headmasters all standing behind him. The headmaster's blue eyes shone with their familiar twinkle as he looked between the two fourth years. Daphne looked between her friend and the headmaster, mumbling a quiet "sorry," to the aged wizard before shuffling her way out of the hospital tent. Dumbledore merely smiled as the girl left, offering a small nod of recognition as she walked passed.

Harry followed Daphne's path with his eyes; watching as she'd walk slowly as she passed fellow students, checking behind her to make sure they weren't looking at her before sprinting down the pathway back to the school. It was such a small, insignificant detail, but his heart clenched at the sight all the same. The feeling sent a strange vibration through Harry, his hand curling into a fist as his breath came to a sudden stop.

The feeling was unnatural, but it wasn't unpleasant.

Harry wished he knew just what that feeling was.


(A/N): Finally, Chapter six is complete!
Again, apologies for the delay; writer's block made me its bitch as I wrote this. This was my first foray into "action" so, any tips or ideas to improve are greatly appreciated!

Also, just in case anyone wished to know. This story will be split into four parts. Part 1, Litanie contre la Peur, will be more focused on the characters and their interactions than anything else; anything regarding the tournament that isn't wholly needed, i.e points being given after tasks, small bits of dialogue between characters like Bagman, interactions with a character like Madam Pomfrey, will be few and far between. If this will bug you, I apologize in advance.
Part 2,
Legion Inoculant (yes I'm giving away the title already), will be much more story-driven. Focusing more on Harry dealing with my amped up Horcrux, the testing of relationships, the DA, Umbridge; the usual.

and yes, each subsequent part's title will be based off of a TOOL interlude, as their titles match up with the themes of the stories well.

I hope you all enjoyed, reviews and criticism are always welcome, and I hope you stick around!