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Stand Tall

Chapter XIV

A Forging in FIre


Susan threw up a hasty shield - she was still building her speed with this spell to match the level Harry's little group had already achieved - and felt a glimmer of relief as Neville stepped forward, rhythmically laying down a blanket of offensive spells. The quiet boy wasn't spellchaining like Harry could, but instead pounding out high powered spells like a marching drum. However, the pressure Neville exerted on their opponent gave her the opportunity she needed. Stun. Disarm. Body Bind. Stun, disarm and body bind. She settled into a much faster pace than Neville was setting as she chained the three spells together into a continuous cycle of casting.

A sense of disappointment was all she got for effort however, as Harry dashed and dived away from the both of their spells. Their first duel had been a close one, Harry seemingly not being ready for what she could do. He had adapted quickly though, and now he had won comfortably in all their duels since. In fact, the only one who seemed to be able to come close to the last Potter in a one on one duel was Hermione and even she lost more than she won.

Duelling at a numbers disadvantage had been Zabini's idea - the Slytherin an addition to this little collective that still seemed a touch strange to her. Blaise was cordial but distant with the group besides Harry, and the two seemed to have a weird understanding that seemed to be based largely around sarcasm. Still, everything about him said 'good person' to her, despite any reservations she had because of his house and he had done nothing to make her think otherwise. Apparently, Death Eaters' favoured ambushing targets in groups of three or more whilst they were alone. She still wasn't sure why this was relevant to the group - besides the fact Harry Potter ran it - but Harry had given Blaise hard look, before agreeing and setting up the first duel.

If nothing else, she couldn't deny it was improving her dueling. Having two opponents forced you to think faster and act on instinct. You had to engineer yourself thinking time fast or else you'd be overwhelmed by the output of two wands. She had to consciously hold back a smirk as Harry scrambled back and forth away from their spellfire, hugging the edges of the room. The nimble Gryffindor hadn't had a chance to cast any spells at all between avoiding her and Neville, and though she was beginning to tire from casting so many spells, Harry had to be doing so faster.

Suddenly, there was a gap in their rhythm - Neville had paused in his casting. She risked a glance over at him and noticed how sweaty he was and nearly swore at her own stupidity. Casting low-powered spells in a chain was an incredibly efficient way to exert pressure on an opponent, taking minimal energy. Neville's spells however, had all been cast at full force - he should have tired himself out minutes ago! But no, he had clearly pushed through his limits so as not to leave her one on one with Harry. Just like that, her appreciation of the often maligned Longbottom skyrocketed.

Of course, that particular revelation had to wait until several hours after their meeting, as Harry took advantage of the small gap in their casting to stop where he was and raise his wand.

"Protego Maxima!" Susan raised an eyebrow even as she launched back into her spellchain. The Maxima version of the shield charm was not taught in Hogwarts as the magic required was considered to be too draining for students - for Harry to be able to cast it at this point in the duel really should have surprised her more. Neville, possibly unaware of the significance of what Harry had just done launched back into casting, slower than before but with a steady rhythm. Their spells cracked and fizzled on Harry's shield, the magical barrier audibly thrumming with energy.

Harry was panting behind it, almost as sweaty as Neville but wore a satisfied smile. Susan couldn't help but worry at that. He shouldn't be that confident - there was no way he could hold that thing for lo-. She paused and stopped casting and truly looked at the disused classroom for the first time since she had begun chaining. She was certain there had been far more desks and chairs in the room when they had started. No way...

She span round just in time to be tackled to the ground by a rather enthusiastic large dog, sending her wand sliding across the stone floors. Neville reacted just as quickly, and a reductor took care of Susan's attacker before he was forced to turn his attention to his own pair of canine assailants. This however, was all the time Harry needed and a simple pair of stunning charms ended the duel before Susan could do anything to stop it.

The rest of their meeting was dedicated towards Luna, and their efforts to find the girl. It was weird for her to have become a part of something like this. Prior to joining Harry's group she would have earnestly hoped that the girl was found safe and sound but the actual act of making sure that happened was something for the adults in the school to do. From what she had been able to gather from Hermione, Harry had never been able to let things sit at that. If he felt as though he could do something about it, then he did. It was refreshing in a lot of ways, and slightly scary in some others. This was grown up territory - living with the Head of the DMLE made her acutely aware of the abundant less than pleasant things that could be waiting if they did find the Ravenclaw girl - and Susan wasn't sure she was entirely ready to be here yet. On the other hand, helping the search effort was absolutely the right thing to do.

What she did know was that somehow, the fact that it was Harry leading their efforts made it easier to follow, despite her trepidation.

For the last little while, their search had focused around the seventh floor. Harry had seen her wandering there before at night, and apparently Blaise had managed to find some Slytherin's who had seen her there the night she'd gone missing. It was a promising lead - or it would be, if there were anything on the seventh besides a few classrooms and some not-exactly-beautiful paintings. Harry was convinced there was something about that floor - a secret passageway, or some hidden magical door of some kind - as Luna had apparently seemed to just 'disappear' on the night Harry had seen her there. Susan found it hard not to be skeptical, but such things were abundant in the castle, so it wasn't necessarily as unlikely as it felt.

Beyond that though, there had been no progress in their search, and the knowledge that before they were together again Harry would have to face a dragon by himself seemed to hang heavy over the room as they said their goodbyes and wished the Gryffindor luck.


The Champions Tent did not exactly live up to its grandiose name. Harry had almost come to expect the wondrous flourish that magic so often allowed with almost every new thing he experienced in the wizarding world. To find something ordinary was, well, quite extraordinary. The tent he found himself in now with the three other champions and a smattering of adult delegates was about as ordinary as anything he had come across since coming to Hogwarts. It was roomy, and a kind of dirty yellow that made Harry wonder if it was actually filthy; and the aged material smelt so strongly of wet dog it was almost impossible to escape (as a matter of fact, he had spent a minute or so watching Fleur Delacour try and do just that).

Harry, on the other hand, took comfort in it - in a sort of 'I'd never tell anyone about this' sort of way. It was probably pathetic, but the smell made him think of Sirius and just the thought that his Godfather was nearby reassured him more than he'd ever care to admit. Unfortunately, good things for Harry were rarely followed by anything other than utter shite, and somehow the thought of imminent dragonfire seemed preferable to what had just scuttled in front of him.

"Harry Potter, once again - a pleasure. Tell me," Rita Skeeter smirked in a way that was so condescending it could have made Lucius Malfoy jealous. "Bones rattling with dread?"

He tried to suppress the white hot anger that the woman's lurid voice set off in him between vice-clenched teeth. "No comment, Skeeter." He near-hissed, and the predatory gleam in the woman's eyes grew to maddening proportions.

"Come now, Po-"

"Rita," and like that, he was saved. Dumbledore had appeared behind him with not even a sound as a warning, and placed a calming hand upon his shoulder. "I believe Harry has made it clear he does not wish to be interviewed here - as he is a minor, I'd hate to think that you were ignoring his wishes?"

She scowled with her eyes, and her face took on the image of someone being forced to suck a lemon. "Of course not, Headmaster." She acquiesced with false grace. "Simply making conversation with the Boy-Who-Lived - who among us isn't curious about the boy behind the legend after all. Now, if you'll excuse me..." The mantis-like woman made to leave, but Dumbledore's voice stopped her dead after a few steps.

"If you remember, Rita - Hogwarts' motto advises us to never tickle a sleeping dragon," he glanced at Harry pointedly and smiled. "As the muggles like to say, 'be careful not to bite off more than you can chew', my dear."

Harry felt a surge of affection for the Headmaster. He had for a while, been a bit annoyed at the idea that the Headmaster might be keeping things like the prophecy and Voldemort's interest in him a secret from him, but that had faded fairly quickly. As Hermione had pointed out towards the start of the year in a discussion about the old man, he had always known Dumbledore was keeping things from him. Equally, he had always seemed to give Harry an opportunity to find certain things out for himself.

He honestly wasn't sure what his opinion of the Headmaster was anymore. Sirius had gone to great pains to keep their interaction a secret from Dumbledore so Harry knew that his Godfather did not trust him and that Remus had a similar enough opinion that he supported Sirius. He knew Dumbledore was keeping secrets and his gut told him that the old man was far too good to be true. It was however almost impossible to not feel affection to the man who had become such a central figure in his life.

Dumbledore moved away, and Harry tried to force back the thoughts of Dumbledore for later. He had more pressing priorities, after all.

He stuck his hand inside a small pouch attached to his belt. He had found the Extension Charm in a book Remus had given him, and had immediately seen it's value. He wasn't especially good at it yet - to his consternation, he hadn't been able to enlarge the interior of his pouch enough to fit his broom inside. It was however large enough to fit considerably more inside than he should have been able to otherwise.

Rummaging, he checked that everything he had packed beforehand was there. Some vials of a basic painkiller and burn salve he had brewed in advance were among the first things he located. He wasn't sure how much use they would be for dragonfire, but they were the best he could manage and would surely be better than nothing. At the bottom was his invisibility cloak, wrapped around a spare pair of glasses - again, just in case. He had also taken a selection of pre-carved runes he had worked on in his sessions with Remus. These he had packed more for general use, rather than specifically for the task, but like with the potions, bringing them along wouldn't hurt.

Remus had shown him how to carve basic runes into stones that when he activated them, transferred their charm or spell onto something else. Some were offensive, designed to stun or curse someone who touched something he didn't want them to touch, others were more benign, like a lev rune stone that he could touch against things to make them levitate. Nothing massively useful, but a cool thing to be able to do with his first few carvings.

"Champions, if I could please have your attention?" A dour, nasally voice asked, magically amplified and Harry closed his pouch and turned to the source. Barty Crouch Sr. He waited, the picture of bored annoyance, until he had all the champion's attention, before taking out his own little brown pouch that writhed as though something alive was inside. "The time has come for you to learn what challenge faces each of you."

Harry glanced at the other champions, knowing full well that they were just as aware of what they were about to face as he was. Fleur and Cedric looked appropriately serious, Krum on the other hand wore the slightest of smiles that almost made Harry grin himself. The Bulgarian was a seeker through and through it seemed and oddly, Harry felt a strange kinship with Krum in that moment. He knew all too well the fear that came with life-threatening danger and facing terrifying obstacles; and when forced to talk about those times, he was happy to speak of his fear.

What he kept hidden though - a guilty secret, was just how much he also enjoyed the rush of adrenalin, the thrill that these situations also provoked. In that, if nothing else, he and Krum were alike.

Crouch went on the ask them to remove their opponent from the squirming pouch - dragon figurines that had been enchanted to move like real dragons. Typically, Harry had drawn the Hungarian Horntail - a notoriously aggressive, uncomfortably large beast that was particularly adept at taking large prey on the wing. The worst possible pick for him and his strategy. The Ministry official then explained that their task would be to steal a golden egg from each dragon, and that they would receive a score based on their performance.

From then on, everything seemed to move in a blur as Cedric, Fleur and Krum were called one by one to face their dragons outside of the tent. He heard but didn't really register the screams and gasps of the crowd, the roaring of dragons or the announcers commentary; he saw but didn't really register each of the Champions trudge back in in various states of injury and disrepair, each clutching a large, golden egg.

All he could see in his mind's eye was his own dragon, his own opponent, until-

"Harry Potter, please enter the arena."

He swallowed hard and pulled out his wand.


The arena exploded into jeers at the sight of him, a cacophony of boos and taunts from just about every corner of the stadium. The Potter Stinks brigade was out in force it seemed, and with every other champion successful, Hogwarts seemed determine that he would be the first to fail as some kind of karmic retribution for cheating.

That, if anything, steeled his resolve as across a stony field littered with boulders and debris - designed, he supposed, to replicate mountainous terrain - he laid eyes on his opponent and sucked in an awed breath.

The drake towered over the arena, consuming almost the entirety of the space before Harry's eyes. The competition area was easily the size of a Quidditch pitch but Harry felt penned in with the beast, so close he could feel the heat of it's breath on his face. It stood on all four of it's legs, crouched defensively over it's nest, crystalline orange eyes focused intently on the interloper into it's territory. Even from here, Harry could see it's scales were far bigger than he had ever contemplated, laid across it's body like burnt-orange steel plates.

Every ridge and crest on it's body was covered with a row of bone-spikes and horns, and it's black-leather wings were spread out into the air, broadcasting just how large an animal this was. A deep, cavernous growl rumbled from it's throat, simultaneously warning Harry to stay exactly where he was and sending a wave of dry heat across him that stung his eyes and made his skin prickle. He was sweating, and couldn't tell whether it was because of the dragon's actual heat or from just how fast his heart was beating.

"Well," he murmured, drawing his wand "'in for a knut, in for a galleon - accio broom!'" He had stashed the broom close by before the fight to save time, but even then in wasn't enough. The dragon let out an enraged roar that ran all the way through Harry and with a single beat of it's wings, it was airborne and bearing down on him. For a single moment he stood stock still, awed as it thundered towards him, then he moved, scrambling to the nearest cluster of large boulders and rocks.

He threw himself behind the largest of the rocks as the Horntail landed with far more grace than it had any right to, it's burnt orange scales catching the sunlight as it moved giving the impression that the dragon was made entirely of flame. It reared back murderously and unleashed a ferocious torrent of dragon-fire that burst against the surface of Harry's cover.

He cowered behind the rock, practically in the foetal position as unbearable heat washed over him accompanied by the deafening roar of the flames themselves. It was only by chance that he opened his eyes enough to see that his shield was being slowly melted into slag from the edges. All the stress, all the pain and discomfort boiled down into one single certainty. If I don't move, I'll die. He reached into his pouch and fumbled for his cloak and wrapped it around himself.

Strangely, under his Father's invisibility cloak, the heat felt... Diminished, somehow. As though the flames had lost a quarter of their strength. He forced the thought to the back of his mind in favour of moving his feet. He dashed from the rock and away from the tongues of white hot flame whipping around it and recast his summoning spell. The broom would be close - he had stashed it near the arena - and sure enough it flew from outside straight into his hand, allowing him to smoothly mount the thing and take off into the sky. The dragon let loose a terrible roar but didn't give chase, opting instead to return to her nest to guard her eggs.

This was a problem. Harry needed the dragon away from those eggs. He circled above the beast, just out of range of the dragon fire he had seen before and pocketed his invisibility cloak to avoid any further risk of damage to it. Experimentally, he aimed at the dragon's head and let loose a set of reductor curses at her, but she tweaked the position of one of her wings and his curses splashed against them harmlessly. He scowled and upped the amount of power he was channelling into his spells. Harry knew they wouldn't work, but something about him being dismissed as a threat rankled him. He began to experiment, sending curses at different places across the dragon's body, trying to observe how the dragon reacted and defended each area. More often than not, she let the spells impact her, not even noticing them. Only when he aimed at her face did she defend or shift her body to make the curses hit something else.

Her eyes. She's protecting her eyes. He began to zero in on it's eyes, alternating between reductors and a mix of sight-based jinxes and piercing curses that he had picked up in preparation for this task. Initially she raised a wing to protect her face, but Harry didn't relent as easily this time and raced around to a different angle to continue his attack. If his goal was to provoke her, his persistence if nothing else achieved that. She let out a furious howl so powerful that it knocked him back on his broom so hard that he almost didn't notice he was glowing. The slight leakage of flames out of the corners of his mouth was the only warning he got before the dragon unleased more fire.

This attack was different though, rather than a steady torrent of flames, this was more of a fireball and moved at him like it was the dragon itself and Harry knew with a certainty he'd been horribly wrong about knowing the range of her attack's.

"Shit - protego maxima!" He screamed holding his wand aloft with one hand even as he desperately jerked his broom away from the oncoming fireball with the other. An invisible shield sprang into life around him and his broom just as the flames careened into it. Had he not tried to dodge at the same time, he would have been consumed - as it was, the ball of fire caught the edge of his shield, shattering it and send him veering wildly off to the side. The strongest shield he knew had done just enough to prevent injury and Harry used the momentum of his own falling to launch into a dive in order to avoid a second fireball.

He pulled up and shot back into the sky, pushing his broom as hard as he could, and glanced back at the dragon. It had paused it's attack to watch him warily, and Harry wondered if it thought it had chased him off. Attacking her wasn't going to do it, he realised with an immediate sensation of dread settling in the pit of his stomach. She was quite happy to see him off with fire and not leave the nest and her eggs unguarded. No, he needed to make her want to kill him. But how? He ran his eyes of the dragon's nest. A melted out nook in what was meant to be a mountain wall - it was covered from all directions but the front with rock, which of course was where the dragon was. Perhaps if it had been open topped he could have tried to manoeuvre past the thing and grab one, but it was covered from the air by rock as well. The though that the only thing that could get to those eggs was a cave in hit him like a bludger.

He moved back towards the dragon again, planning his line of attack, and she huffed flame from her nostrils and reared up threateningly in response. The same rhythm of curses began to fly from his wand, trying to encourage her to shield with her wing again. She shifted and raised her wings and Harry immediately changed tact, aiming a trio of blasting curses at the rock wall behind the dragon. They hit home with a serious of explosions and the Ridgeback howled in response, turning and sweeping it's wings back into the nest and scooping it's eggs from the collapsing caves just in time.

It span far more quickly than anything that big had a right to and erupted from the ground, bursting forward at him. Harry fought the instinct to turn away from the beast as it hurtled forward full of rage and instead flew at it, ducking under a stream of fire meant to reduce him to cinders, and flying under the dragon right at the nest. It was fast, but not so much that it could turn it mid-air and still catch him and for a moment Harry thought he was going to be able to reach the eggs but the Horntail had different ideas. A terrible rumble was all that gave away the fireball aimed at his back and Harry had to violently swerve upwards and out of the way.

More came, forcing him further and further away, and the dragon got back between him and the nest again and immediately gave chase. He swore quietly and got down as close to level with his broom as he could, both making him as small a target as possible, and also allowing him to push his broom to it's limits. Even then he just barely out-paced the thing and Harry knew he had to use it's size against it. He turned gently towards the castle towers, intending to use his small size and better turning circle against the enraged dragon.

As soon as he was close enough, he headed straight into the centre of the castle itself, so he was surrounded by towers and the dragon followed doggedly even as he turned sharply towards a tower. The dragon, all too close, snapped out with it's cavernous jaws as Harry turned before powering after him again. Harry was one step ahead now though, performing a sharp turn around a tower that the Ridgeback just couldn't execute at the same speed he could allowing Harry to open up space between himself and it. He eyed a gap between two of the shorter towers on the castle's structure and had an idea. He launched a flurry of curses back at the dragon, both angering it further as well as giving it time to catch right back up to him.

It was right on it's tail and he had to dive hard to avoid another wave of fire, the heat washing over him again, stinging his eyes. He didn't leave his course. The dragon chased him around the outside of the two towers, but Harry cut back hard into the gap between them, very nearly not making the turn himself. The dragon tried to match his movement but it's wings were too large and ground hard against the walls, sending surface brickwork tumbling down Hogwarts' stonework.

This time when the beast roared, pain blended neatly with fury, and Harry shuddered even as he raced away. Magical attacks didn't work, but regular physical attacks do! It was information useless to him unless he could think of something to do with it; so for now he focused on a way to buy himself enough time to get back to the nest and away again with the Golden Egg. He was running out of options. Taking the dragon into close quarters had worked, but only so much and he couldn't fly like that for any length of time. The arena wasn't designed for an aerial battle, and the Horntail would reduce the Forbidden Forest to ash to get to him if it needed to.

The only other place to go would be the Black Lake, and he couldn't swim half as well as he could fly - though he reckoned the dragon would be worse off than he would in the water. Suddenly, Harry felt a surge of triumph as an idea struck him. He soared into the clouds, drawing the dragon up with him and they burst through the cloud line together, Harry barely a speck when compared with what chased him. He climbed even higher, pushing the limits of how far even he had gone, and felt the temperature beginning to plummet relieving the residual heat he still felt from the dragon's breath.

Now for the tricky bit.

Adrenalin surged, and Harry turned the nose of his broom groundward, plummeting into a near vertical dive. Wind rushed past his face at unreal speed, whipping and slicing at him, thundering through his ears and rattling his bones; and still he gained speed. A look behind revealed the dragon, wings tucked like a falcon, spinning into a dive - matching him. Harry grinned and readied his wand, clutching it with a vice-like grip between his sweaty right palm and the familiar ebony wood of his broom. He waited for his moment.

They burst back through the cloudline, punching a whole like a bullet, torpedoing directly towards earth at a velocity Harry knew with a certainty he had never reached in his life. Still, he waited.

The Black Lake's mirror smooth surface coalesced into view, and still, he waited. It rushed towards him and Harry knew that at this speed he would strike it's surface like it were concrete rather than placid waters. His fingers tightened their grip on his broom. He waited. The last possible moment, the exact window of time where survival twists into certain death was the only possible moment to exact a picture-perfect Wronski Feint. NOW! Harry turned, removing his hand from his broom for just long enough to breathlessly strangle out the words, "LUMOS MAXIMA!" and thrust his wand behind him at the chasing dragon. Lumos cast a ball of light like a small lantern - enough to read or navigate by in the dark. If you didn't cast the maxima version of the spell with enough control, your wand exploded with a painfully bright luminescent light, that was blinding if you looked right at it - even in the daylight. Harry yanked back on his broom, desperately pulling out of the dive before he crashed into the lake's icy waters, his feet trailing along the surface as he pulled jubilantly away.

The dragon however, careened into it's surface, plumes of water exploding into the sky even as the dragon disappeared into the depths.

Harry wasted no time and pushed his broom as hard as he could to the dragon's nest - arriving at the ruined structure just in time to hear the drake explode from the lake violently, it's fury drowning out the crowds that he had only just noticed again for the first time since his match had begun. He saw the egg with the others, shimmering in the sunlight and he veered towards it - only to have to violently swerve as another burst of flame sent him barrelling to the ground, skidding across it to a halt - right next to his intended prize. He pulled himself to his feet and brought his wand to bear, panting, and the dragon landed directly in front of him.

For a moment, they stood opposite each other, like two cowboys getting the measure of the other before they broke their standoff in those movies Dudley loved. They had traded places since they had last been here. Harry not stood between the dragon and it's eggs, and he knew he'd not be alive much longer if he didn't move. He scrambled for the largest rock he could find and cowered as the Horntail swept over the entire area with it's fiery breath. All that, and I'm right back where I started! He bit back a curse as he evaluated his options. He'd left his broom behind and wasn't even sure it was still intact through all that fire, and he seriously doubted the cloak trick would work a second time. None of his magic would touch the dragon, and all he had left were the practice lev runes he'd make with Remus.

It's still vulnerable to phsyical attacks. He glanced downward and saw that the boulder he was taking cover behind, though slowly being reduced to slag and far too hot to touch, wasn't attatched to the ground. Maybe, just maybe, there was a possibility for one last toss of the dice. It was getting hard to breathe and Harry's palms were slick with sweat, but he fumbled for his pouch and pulled out a lev runestone. A small hunk of slate, carved and then imbued with a charm. Working quickly, he cast a cooling spell on his hands and the rune as powerfully as he could and brought his wand to bear at the boulder, dead centre, rune in the other hand.

He pressed the rune against the boulder and pulsed his magic, before yanking his hand away, searing pain shooting up his arm. There was no time to hesitate though, as his only shield from the flames began to levitate slowly into the air. The runes worked! The Summoning Charm had proved difficult for Harry, and he had only mastered it so quickly with the help of Sirius and Remus. It's opposite however, he for some reason excelled at.

"Depulso!" He cast the banishing charm with as much force as he could muster on his floating boulder, and the enormous hunk of stone was launched directly at the dragon and struck the beast in it's neck, bursting into shards of small stone on impact. The dragon's cry was as furious as ever, but the harsh, strangled edge told Harry he had done real damage and he moved, determined not to give it a chance to recover. He dashed past three more boulders, pressing his hand containing a new rune each time against them in turn. Then, as the dragon regained it's bearings and turned at him once more, Harry opened fire.

Three banishing charms sent three enormous boulders hurtling at the dragon, too fast for it the respond to. The first crashed into it's wing, and a second directly into it's body and appeared to knock the wind from the drake. It tried to move back at Harry, to recover from the salvo, but the third ploughed into it's head with a cold-blooded crack. For a moment, it stood - blood and awe written across it's face, both it and the arena silent it seemed, but for Harry's thundering heart.

Then, it fell.


Both Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson watched, wide-eyed as the dragon fell, as though boneless, to the arena floor. Both stayed silent as the crowd around them erupted into wild celebration. All the Champions had been successful today. Diggory had distracted the dragon and the Beuxbaton witch had used some clever charms work to bewitch the dragon - partially successfully. Krum had come the closest, using a neat curse to blind his dragon but had nearly cost himself the prize.

Potter hadn't simply escaped from a dragon. No, he had taken the most dangerous of them all, and he had defeated it. Potter and Potter alone had walked calmly from the arena, prize in hand, his enemy unconscious behind him.

Both Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson watched, eyes scheming as Potter headed back into the Champion's tent. Both had very different reasons, but now without doubt, both knew that they needed Potter's trust. They needed to get close to him, for him to accept them into his circle.

Both Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson watched, from opposite corners of the Slytherin stands, knowing that for very different reasons, their lives now depended on Harry Potter.


The medical area of the Champion's tent was a separate compartment, and was mercifully empty. The others had been treated already, leaving Madame Pomfrey to tut her way around him, muttering admonishments half-heartedly. He had managed to assuage the worst of her bluster by applying liberal amounts of his home-brew burn salve before he had gotten to her, but he had still copped an earful for being 'entirely too full of reckless idiocy'.

He hadn't disagreed with her - though he didn't really see what he could have done differently. He supposed quit would have been Pomfrey's answer. That had never really been on the table for him, for reasons he didn't really want to try and articulate at this point in time - he was already too tired to think. And sore. Apparently, when you're trying to get out of a frying pan, you notice the fact you're being cooked a little less than you really should. Harry had a couple of nasty burns to show for beating a dragon, and had inhaled a little smoke that Pomfrey had told him was a little more nasty than usual on account of it coming from a magical dragon and all. Those would all be fine with a night's sleep and some potions, so he was told. His left hand would need a few days. His attempt at using a cooling charm to reduce the burns that touching a red hot boulder would cause had only been partially successful.

"Madame Pomfrey?" A quiet voice asked, close to a whisper and Harry couldn't help but smile. "May I come in and see Harry?"

The school nurse fixed the interloper with a stern glare before tutting vigorously, "Fine Miss Granger, but if I catch that boy out of his bed-"

"Then he'll have to deal with the both of us, Madame Pomfrey." Hermione said with an all too sweet smile at the nurse, who nodded her ascent, sent him a warning look and left to give them time to chat.

"Thanks Hermione, I think." He said with a crooked smile, before gesturing to a chair beside his bed.

"Harry that was amazing. Really quite incredibly stupid, but amazing all the same. I'd never thought of using a lev rune like that!" She begun excitedly, worry for him superseded by excitement over the magic.

"To be fair, neither had I until I did it. I'd not really planned on using them at all - was a good thing I brought them though!"

"I can't really argue with that. I can't believe you actually managed to knock it unconscious - I saw Charlie Weasley putting it back into the cage they transport it in just now; it's all he and the other dragon handlers are talking about." She said, eyes moving towards to the outside of the tent, where Harry presumed Charlie was working.

"Well, we beat a troll in first year when we were there were three of us, I suppose what I did was similar enough to how Ron knocked out the troll that I should be giving him some credit."

"Glad I could help?" A third voice called from the tent door, and the two of them turned their attention to a sheepish looking Ron stood in the doorway, hands in pockets. "Although I don't think you need any of my help after that. Yeah a troll is pretty terrifying, but a bloody dragon?!"

"Why are you here, Ron?" Harry asked, voice sharp, and Ron half-flinched in response.

"Look, Harry, I',- I'm here to say sorry. I was sat there in the audience watching my best mate fight a dragon - a bloody dragon - and couldn't help thinking about what an idiot I've been. Something like this tournament shouldn't be coming between us - so what you managed to get your name in?" Hermione flinched and sucked in a breath through her teeth. Ron didn't notice. "You're my best mate. Something like that shouldn't matter, it certainly shouldn't be coming between us like it has. There's no excuse for how I've acted about it. I really am sorry."

To be fair, Ron really did look sorry. It didn't stop Harry from having to clench his fists as tightly as he could as he shook with the anger from it though.

"You just don't listen - ever!" He hissed, teeth grinding together.

"Wha-?" But Harry wasn't going to let Ron get another word in until he had listened.

"I couldn't give a shit about the stupid tournament Ron - I never did! We talked about entering because you wanted to, not because I did! What I do give a shit about is the fact my supposed best friend refuses to believe me when I tell him I didn't do something - I could forgive the insults, I could move on from the pranks - but you know everything that's going on! You know us trusting each other is more important than ever, and even after seeing me nearly die fighting a bloody dragon, my so-called best friend still doesn't believe I'm not lying. How the hell can I trust you to have my back - to have our friend's back?

"Even Snape seems to believe that somebody did this to try and get me killed. Even Snape is more willing to believe your best friend than you are. Imagine being a worse friend than Snape!"

Ron opened his mouth to respond, but Madame Pomfrey stormed back through, fury in her eyes. "Weasley! I told you only if things remained calm! Out, now please - you too Granger!"

"But-" Both Ron and Hermione tried to protest at the same time, but Pomfrey ended the debate before it had even begun.

"I said out!" She jabbed her finger to the door. Hermione sent him an apologetic glance before following Ron out. Pomfrey glanced back at him. "I've asked them to give you an hour's rest before I send you up to the dorm to get more. I'd suggest you make the most of it, Potter - you really do need it."

And she left him alone in the tent with his thoughts, any of them that might have been about his victory soured by how today had just ended. He was devastated by his rift with Ron and their apparent inability to repair their shattered friendship.

What cut him the most deeply however, was the thought that he was no longer sure that he even wanted to.