No Good Plan

The day of the First Task was like any other. It was a Tuesday, normal temperature for the beginning of Autumn, overcast with a slight chance of rain, and quite possibly the last normal day I would ever have. Hermione kept telling me I was being overly dramatic, and Ron…well, Ron still wasn't speaking to me.

"Boys are all idiots," Aunt Petunia would always remind me. It turns out she was right. I hated it when she was right.

Ginny told me he would get over it soon. People – idiots – like her brother needed time to realize how stupid they were being. I just had to weather out the storm of stupidity and hope our friendship would survive. Though she did promise to curse him with an unending bat-bogey hex if he didn't pull his head out his arse soon.

I suppose I would never find out if he ever got over himself now.

The attack came from all directions. The wards snapped with a sudden and deafening boom that knocked everyone off of their feet. Even the dragon was forced from her nest, and she fell between two large rocks, pinning her wing underneath. The stands directly behind the Horntail came down seconds after the wards, collapsing from the middle first. They tumbled apart like a deck of cards, crumpling atop each other as people screamed in horror and in pain.

The brood mother wailed and shrieked so loudly I could hear it over the loud ringing in my ears. Sound started to come back slowly, distorted noises filtering in, before it came rushing back all at once. My hands clapped over my ears to muffle the dragon's agonized cries and my eyes were drawn to her even as I noticed another series of stands collapsing in my periphery.

She struggled, her one good wing thrashing nearly straight up in the air, tail bashing into the rocks hard enough to chip off large sections. I stumbled upright, pulling myself up onto the rock next to Hermione's bookbag. I stood on the blackened and charred stone, blood dripping from my ears as the screams of students started to filter in over the Horntail. Lights were flashing from the stands, bright colors of spells flying back and forth between the professors and robed figures with white masks.

I stood there dumbfounded for several long moments, just watching as the chaos enfolded around me. A sickly yellow spell flashed past my face, hitting the rock behind me, and turning it into tiny pieces of stones that blew apart with such force I could feel the small projectiles cut through the thick enchanted fabric of the sleeves of my battle robes as I shielded my face. Only a smoking crater was left from the aftermath of the spell and my heart leapt into my throat when I realized that the curse had been meant for me.

My knees cracked on the stone and scraped the palms of my hands as I scrambled behind the rock. Fingers gripped the leather strap of Hermione's bookbag as I dragged it after me. She would never forgive me if I just left her books there to be ruined. Hermione only let me borrow them because I swore on my life that I wouldn't let anything happen to it.

'Thank Merlin I didn't make a binding oath,' I thought to myself as I brushed off smoldering coal from the front of the bag while clutching it to my chest. The embers were hot enough to burn tiny holes through the canvas, but I would have to hope that the damage hadn't spread to anything inside the bag.

My heart was pounding so loudly in my ears I could barely make out the battle that was happening around me. Black hair fell into my vision and I pushed it aside with shaking fingers before ducking even further behind the rock, pressing my back into it as another spell flew just inches over my head. Sweat dripped down my face as my lungs burned with the effort to keep up with my racing heart.

Movement above drew my attention, and I could see the professors box directly in front of me. Dumbledore stood in the forefront, casting massive spells with just a wave of his wand with McGonagall at his side buffering support. Her shielding spell was seamless, allowing pockets for children to retreat into and then closing them before an opposing spell could find its way in.

Sprout's own shields were not nearly as large as McGonagall's, who was able to cover the entire teacher's box, but Sprout had multiple shields cast at once. She was protecting fleeing students while Flitwick stood beside her, assisting with decidedly more lethal spells. His curses and hexes flew from his wand in rapid succession, not silent like Dumbledore's and not large like McGonagall's, but they cut through the air with precision and their victims did not get up again. I had forgotten he was the undefeated dueling champion in Wizarding Britain for the last thirty years, but now I could see why.

If Dumbledore's spells were art, Flitwick's was poetry in motion.

My eyes were drawn to the other side of the stands where an equally impressive level of offensive and defensive spells were being cast nearly simultaneously. Snape stood alone like a dark silhouette on the bleachers outside McGonagall's massive single-casted protego, but that didn't seem to hinder him at all. His mouth moved with the spells he cast, but he would flick his wand mid-word to deflect an incoming curse with an effortlessness that was enviable before he finished casting. There wasn't a stop or a pause in his spell-work, the constant need to deflect and shield didn't even seem to hinder him at all.

I was drawn to his form, nearly captivated by his surgical precision, until his dark eyes caught mine and held. He seemed to sneer at me from his advantaged height, his wand slicing through the air to deflect another spell and continuing the movement until I was no longer staring into his heated gaze, but down the end of his wand.

A bright crimson spell flew from the tip and barreled towards me. I ducked instinctively but knew there was nowhere to go. I was stuck behind the rock or risk exposing myself to the curses still chipping away at my hiding place. And even though my wand was in my hand, I didn't think to bare it in defense. Instead, I covered my head with my arms and ducked. After a few moments of nothing, my panting harsh in my ears, I lowered my arms and glanced up. A body lay next to mine, black cloaked, white masked, and smoldering. It didn't move.

My green eyes darted back up into the teacher's box and his own dark ones met mine. "Move!" he shouted, casting another spell that flew so close to me that I could feel the magic tingling along my skin. A scream rang out behind me.

I did as he bid. I ran out of my hiding place, keeping low and trusting that Snape would keep protecting me, though why he had in the first place still alluded me. He had told me on more than one occasion that I should do the world a favor and drink my failed potions of that day. And yet, even with all those years of hostility, detentions, and heated glares, his magic flew past me, casting aside hexes that would have struck me down and felling those bold enough to come close.

A large explosion before me had me slipping on the wet stone, trying to backpedal from my forward momentum as the ground burst in a hail of dust and stone. My hip ached from the fall, but I pushed past the pain and darted to the side to avoid another explosion. I noticed too late that the change in direction had put me in even more danger.

I skidded to a stop, the trapped Horntail only a meter away, her head thrashing as she wailed and spit fire into the air. I ducked the flame and turned, as low to the ground as I could get without actually crawling, but I had nowhere else to go. Behind me stood three darkly cloaked figures. One casting aside the spells raining down on them from the teachers, the other two advancing on my position. Snape's spells collided heavily on their shields, cracking them, and causing the defender to stagger…but their defense held.

He wasn't going to break through in time.

In that moment I made a decision…a plan. It was probably the stupidest thing I had done since jumping into the chamber in the girls unused third floor bathroom.

I turned back around and ran straight for the Horntail.

"Harielle!" I could hear Snape bellowing my name, the tone just like the one he used when berating me in class. He only broke out my first name when I did something monumentally stupid. Like the time with the troll, or that incident with the Whomping Willow. But this time, instead of raising my ire, it bolstered my resolve.

The Horntail's maw opened in front of me, rows of dripping teeth sharper than any knife leading to the ignition tubes in the back. A flame was starting to build on either side, the gases catching fire, blue at first and then orange as they spewed from her mouth. I dropped beneath the jet of flames, sliding on the wet stone, my momentum pushing forward until I was beneath her. Behind me I could hear the wizards screaming.

My momentum brought me to a jarring halt on her stuck wing and I took a moment to just breathe, safe for the first time since this tournament started, beneath the deadliest thing in this arena. The body above me thrashed in a fury only a dragon could achieve, and I felt the hard bone of the wing knock into my side as she tried to free herself.

A series of low thuds boomed around me, sounding hollow in the little space that I lay in. It took me a moment to realize that it was battle spells raining down on the dragon. She quailed and shrieked but could do nothing else as every thrash more firmly wedged her in place.

Another idea came to me, and I could hear Hermione's voice in my head – the voice of reason – telling me that this plan was even more idiotic than the last. Surely this would be the plan that killed me, surely this was the one that was dumb enough to end my pitiful existence.

I decided to go through with it anyway. My only other option was to lay here and wait for death or rescue, and well…I've always been terrible at waiting.

Turning myself around in the confining space was difficult, and more than once I thought I was going to get myself stuck right along with the dragon, but after a long moment where my knees pressed painfully into my own ribcage, I was finally turned around and on my stomach. I crawled towards her thrashing wing, pushing some of the softer membrane aside and deftly avoiding her thumb claw as I crawled further beneath her, Hermione's books digging harshly into my back.

It seemed to take forever before I reached her hind foot. I panted and gasped from the effort, the heat she gave off made the small space nearly suffocating. Her foot was twisted partially on the ground, her ankle caught between her own body and the rock she was wedged against.

There was enough space at her hip to prop myself into a sitting position, back against the other side of the small crevice. I couldn't fully sit up, forced into a low slouch more than anything, but it was enough. I took a steady breath and then grabbed my wand.

My hands were shaking as I brought it to bare on the rock less than a person's length from me. I knew, before I even cast the spell, I knew this was going to suck. I brought my free arm up to my face to shield it even as my wand slowly flicked through the movements.

"Bombarda Maxima!"

The spell slammed into the rock, the boom that followed deafening in the confining space. Small and sharp debris rained down on me, cutting into my hands and face even as I tried to shield my eyes. My ears rang from the impact, quieting the Horntail's continued wailing. I coughed as dust was pulled into my lungs and I cracked my eyes open to see the damage. A large chunk almost in a perfect circle was punched into the stone, spider web cracks splintering out from the epicenter. But still the rock held.

I raised my wand, taking another steadying breath, and then cast again. I could feel blood dripping from my ears by the third attempt. By the fourth I was coughing nonstop from the dust. By the fifth, I could barely breathe, and my vision was starting to go black around the edges. I don't know how many times I cast the spell, but I remember the darkness creeping in, and then suddenly I was being blinded by bright light.

A large form blocked the light momentarily when the Horntail roared and shook itself upright. Her hind foot was inches from me, her body casting long shadows upon the arena, and then she took to the air, the broken chain dangling from her damaged collar. I could only sit there dazed as fresh air flooded my lungs and I could finally breathe. Sweat was pouring from my brow and I could feel trails of it slicking down my back.

My head turned to where I came from, curious about the wizards that had been following me. At first, I didn't know what I was seeing, it looked like darkly smoking rocks…and then I knew exactly what I was looking at. I turned away, dry heaving at the sight of the charred bodies. Rolling over onto my hands, bile forced its way from my throat as the smell came next.

The screaming around me seemed hollow to my own harsh breathing, like I was listening to it underneath water. Ash was raining from the sky, and I could feel the wind hit me, forceful jets of air pushed from the dragon's flight. Fire bloomed from her maw, lighting up the darkening sky in bursts.

A hand wrapped around my wand arm, fingers digging tiny point of pain into my tired muscles as I was yanked upright. Professor Snape stood before me, one hand on his wand and the other around my bicep, his grip bruising. His hair was moving with the wind caused by the dragon's wings, it looked greasier then normal. His face was twisted into a sneer, for once not aimed at me, and aside from the state of his hair, he looked completely normal. There was no dust on his robes, no dirt on his face…he looked just as he did every day in class.

My own state no doubt paled in comparison. I was sweaty, hair sticking to the back of my neck as I felt drops leave trail marks down my spine. My own battle robes were shredded and covered in ash, and I had no doubt that my face was just the same. For some reason, I was oddly embarrassed in that moment with how I must appear to one as composed as Snape…and then I was angry for being embarrassed. Who cared when I was running for my life?!

I was pulled from my thoughts as his cold dark eyes glared down at me before he shoved me away from him and towards the tallest point in the arena. I could hear him casting behind me, his sibilant voice somehow loud in the chaos despite the explosions around us. I focused on the calm way he spoke the spells, using his demeanor and lack of panic to calm my own racing heart as I scrambled up the embankment. He followed quickly behind, back towards me as we retreated to the far side of the arena.

My exhausted muscles protested each movement, and more than once Snape was forced to support me. His shield shimmered brightly as dozens of spells slammed into its wall, and yet still it held. Each impacting boom left me breathless with anticipation, but it endured through the onslaught. I don't know how he did it, kept us moving, renewing the shield, and levitating rocks, people, and other obstacles into the paths of spells that the shield couldn't block. And yet, somehow, he did.

I promised that if I ever made it out of this alive, I would never talk back to him in class ever again.

We were nearly out of ground to retreat to, cresting the top of the incline when I stumbled to a stop, nearly losing my balance as my legs shook. I could see the grey wall that marked the edge of the arena and before us stood the massive stone nest, twelve grey eggs and one gold right in the center. "Keep moving, Potter!" Snape shouted between spells, nearly backing into me as I stumbled over another loose stone. His hand grabbed my wrist and yanked me back to my feet. "Get up, keep moving!"

"There's no where else to go!" I shouted at him, scrambling to the top of the last rock and stopping at the base of the stone nest.

A shadow cast over us as air pushed past with each beat of the Horntail's wings. My hair blew into my face as she landed, right on the other side of the nest. I looked up, taking in her towering form and angry demeanor as she stared right into me. She roared defiance, her great maw opening. I could see the blue in the back of her throat when several brightly colored lights flashed in my periphery. One of them was green.

The spells came from one side, and the dragon fire from the other. "Snape!" I screamed, turning, and launching myself at him. But I was too late. Everything seemed to happen all at once. I pressed my eyes tightly closed as my arms gripped his torso, the shield broke, the spells hit, fire rained down above us as we landed in the dragon nest, and a hook latched itself on my stomach.

When I opened my eyes, I was laying on the tiled ground of Kings Cross Station, with my mother standing before me…and she presented me with a choice.