Chapter Twenty: The First Task

Hermione and Harry walked around the lake three times while trying to think of a simple spell that would subdue a dragon (even though they were acutely aware that even the professional Dragon handlers could barely subdue them). Nothing whatsoever occurred to them, so they set off towards the library.

Hermione and Harry grabbed every book they could find on dragons, and they both set to work searching through the large pile.

"Talon-clipping by charms… treating scale rot… This is no good. This is for the nutters like Hagrid who want to keep them healthy," Harry said as he snapped closed the book he was looking at.

Hermione read from her book. "Dragons are extremely difficult to slay, owing to the ancient magic that imbues their thick hides, which none but the most powerful spells can penetrate… But Sirius said a simple one would do it."

Harry sighed. "Let's try some simple spellbooks, then," he said, throwing aside Men Who Love Dragons Too Much.

He returned to the table with a pile of spellbooks, set them down, and they both began to flick through each. Hermione's head was going at full force and, therefore, was thinking aloud (though in a whisper to avoid attracting Madam Pince). "Well, there are Switching Spells… but what's the point of Switching it? Unless you swapped its fangs for wine gums or something, that would make it less dangerous… The trouble is, like that book said, not much is going to get through a dragon's hide. I'd say Transfigure it, but something that big, you really haven't got a hope. I doubt even Professor McGonagall… unless you're supposed to put the spell on yourself? Maybe to give yourself extra powers? But they're not simple spells. I mean, we haven't done any of those in class. I only know about them because I've been doing O.W.L. practice papers…"

"Hermione," Harry said. "Will you shut up for a bit, please? I'm trying to concentrate."

Hermione closed her mouth immediately. Slightly embarrassed she let someone else hear how cluttered her brain was, she focused on skimming her own book instead of bothering Harry. She could feel the familiar panic attack brewing but tried to keep it together for Harry's sake.

Suddenly, her concentration was shattered as she noticed Viktor Krum slouching in. He looked at her and Harry and then settled in the opposite corner with his own pile of books. "Oh no, he's back again!" Hermione said irritably. "Why can't he read on his stupid ship? Come on, Harry. We'll go back to the common room. His fan club'll be here in a moment, twittering away…"

And, sure enough, as they left the library, a gaggle of girls tiptoed past them, one of them wearing a Bulgarian scarf tied around her waist.

Hermione couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, all she could picture was Harry being burnt alive by a Hungarian Horntail. They still hadn't found a "simple" spell to help Harry. Usually, Hermione enjoyed challenges, but not when it was life or death.

She decided to try to distract herself by thinking about anything other than the Triwizard Tournament. Maybe if she stopped thinking about Harry's impending doom, the solution would come to her. Coincidentally, as soon as Hermione tried to think of another subject, she heard Lavender say, "Oh, brilliant! The House-Elves did all of my laundries."

House-Elves! Hermione could find enough to think about them all night long. She felt terrible that she hadn't retooled her manifesto yet, but she had been preoccupied with Harry and the tournament. No! She couldn't think about the tournament. Her mind wandered back to the Quidditch World cup and poor Winky. She wondered what happened to the poor elf - whether or not Mr Crouch followed through with his threat of clothes.

Then there were the House-Elves employed by Hogwarts to think of! The poor creatures had to be working overtime with the Tournament (No! Don't think about the tournament!). Hermione realised that in order to help them, she would have to reimagine the way she tried to recruit new members. If she couldn't convince Hagrid to join S.P.E.W., there was something seriously wrong with her technique.

Suddenly, Hermione had a brilliant idea! She'd recruit Jillian and have her help recruit the rest of the first years! Then, even if Hermione couldn't get the rest of her year to join, she could at least have hope for the future of S.P.E.W.

Though, working from the bottom up wasn't going to help the House-Elves any time soon. Hermione would need to have an ally with authority. But who could she talk to? It would be brilliant to have someone within the Ministry on her side. Would Mr Weasley help? Probably not, because he was probably still on thin ice from the Rita Skeeter article. Who else did she know at the Ministry?

Finnegan's sister Keelin! Hermione sat straight up in bed. She realised with dread that she had never heard back from Finnegan when she wrote to him at the beginning of term. Panic washed over her. Hermione flew out of bed to grab some parchment. She was going to write to him again, as well as her parents. A pang of guilt snuck into her head as she realised she had also forgotten to write to them, but perhaps they could tell her if he was still on their route.

Dear Finnegan,

I'm so sorry it took me so long to follow up, but I hope this letter finds you well. Whatever happened after the Quidditch World Cup? Are your cousin and his family okay? Is Keelin okay? Things were so crazy there. It still makes me sick to remember what happened.

As you may know, the Triwizard Tournament is being held here at Hogwarts. My best friend, Harry Potter, is one of the champions. Hopefully, he will be okay, just like I hope you and your family are. Speaking of your family, I have a few questions to ask Keelin if she has some free time. It concerns the mistreatment of House-Elves. I think she would be a valuable ally in my quest for equal rights for all Magical Creatures, especially with her ties to the Ministry.

Please write back when you get a chance, so I know you all are okay.

Hermione

She pulled out another clean parchment sheet to write her parents. Since they hadn't parted on good terms, Hermione wasn't sure how to craft her letter.

Mum and Dad,

Hello from Hogwarts! I am sorry I haven't written since arriving - things have been so busy here! I have been working hard in my classes and have been selected to help a first-year student with her cochlear implants. If you both remember, Muggle electronics can't work here at Hogwarts, so I have to cast a spell to ensure they work for her so she can hear. I was the only student Professor McGonagall trusted with the task.

I also have been preoccupied with something called the Triwizard Tournament being held here at school. Two other magic schools from France and Bulgaria have come to Hogwarts, and one representative from each school will compete in the tournament. Unfortunately, Harry was also picked because of a technicality, so I have been helping him prepare.

I have a very random question to ask you. Has Finnegan been by with the mail lately? I had written him a letter at the start of term but have yet to hear back from him. I was just hoping all was alright with him.

I hope to hear from you both soon. All my love,

Hermione.

Hermione put both letters in envelopes and placed them in her school bag to be sent tomorrow. Satisfied with her work, she laid back down and tried to develop a recruiting script for S.P.E.W. until sleep finally overtook her.

The next morning, Hermione awoke in a panic. There was only one day until the First Task, and they were no closer to figuring out the "simple spell" Sirius had mentioned than yesterday. She had hoped the answer would come to her in her sleep but had no such luck.

She met up with Harry in the Great Hall for breakfast before their Herbology class. "Any luck?" she asked him.

"Nope," he said.

"We're going to figure it out, Harry," Hermione said.

Harry just stayed silent in reply.

Soon it was time for them to head to class. As they stood up to leave the Great Hall, Harry leaned in. "Hermione, I'll see you in the greenhouses," Harry said. "Go on. I'll catch you up."

"Harry, you'll be late! The bell's about to ring!" Hermione said.

"I'll catch you up, okay?" Harry said, walking briskly away from the table towards the door. Hermione followed his path and saw that Harry looked like he was following Cedric Diggory. She realised Cedric was the only champion who didn't know about the Dragons for the first task. Hopefully, Harry was going to rectify that.

Hermione caught up with Neville, and they walked to the greenhouse together. "How's Harry holding up?" Neville asked.

"Terrible," Hermione sighed.

"I'm sure he's going to be okay," Neville said.

"I hope so," said Hermione.

"Where is he?"

"He said he'd catch up in a minute. I think he has to talk with someone."

"I hope he's not late to class," said Neville. "Professor Sprout's nice, but not when someone is late."

"He'll get there in time," Hermione said confidently.

But the bell rang, and Harry was nowhere to be seen. Professor Sprout started her lesson on the Flutterby Bush. Hermione tried to pay attention, but she could feel herself stealing looks at the path leading down to the greenhouse, but it was empty.

"Hello, class! Notice any particularly enticing smells today? I know what you're thinking; I'm not trying a new perfume today. What you're smelling is the subject of today's lesson... the Flutterby Bush! Let's start with a practical overview of caring for the Flutterby Bush."

A wave of fresh parchment and the smells of the sea washed over Hermione as Professor Sprout placed the small bush in front of her. Its leaves were green with a delicate blue flower. They all listened as Professor Sprout described the pruning methods and set off independently. Only then did Hermione catch a glimpse of Harry running down the hill towards the Greenhouse.

After apologising profusely to Professor Sprout, Harry sat beside Hermione, gasping for breath. "Hermione, I need you to help me," he whispered.

"What d'you think I've been trying to do, Harry?" she whispered back.

"Hermione, I need to learn how to do a Summoning Charm properly by tomorrow afternoon."

Harry caught Hermione up on what happened when he should have been at Herbology as they made their way to an empty classroom instead of lunch. "I told Cedric about the dragons," he explained. "It was the right thing to do. But then, after I told him, Moody asked me into his office. He knew I had told Cedric but wasn't mad. He actually wanted to help me!"

"Oh? But that's against the rules," Hermione said.

Harry ignored her. "Moody asked what I was best at, and, of course, I said Quidditch. And then that's when he gave me the idea: flying! If I can summon my broomstick, I can fly around the dragons and do whatever I need to do!"

Hermione had to admit it was a simple solution. Unfortunately, Harry was utterly awful at the Summoning Charm.

So they practised.

And practised.

And practised some more.

Harry tried with all his might to make various objects fly across the room towards him, but he was still having problems. The books and quills kept losing heart halfway across the room and dropping like stones to the floor.

"Concentrate, Harry, concentrate," Hermione said, getting frustrated.

"What d'you think I'm trying to do?" said Harry angrily. "A filthy great dragon keeps popping up in my head, for some reason. Okay, let's try again."

By the time it was time for their afternoon classes, Harry had barely made any headway.

"Let's just skip our afternoon classes," Harry said. "All that's going to happen is Professor Trelawny's gonna tell me I'm going to die a horrible death tomorrow in Divination."

"Absolutely not," Hermione said. "You may be exempt from sitting exams and dumb enough to have kept Divination, but there is no way I am missing Arithmancy."

The pair split, going to their respective classes, meeting again for dinner. After they ate, they trudged back to the empty classroom to practise some more. Harry insisted they travel under his Invisibility Cloak to avoid teachers and students. They practised until it was past midnight. They would have stayed longer, but Peeves turned up and started chucking chairs across the room, pretending to think Harry wanted things thrown at him. Hermione and Harry left in a hurry because the noise attracted Filch. They went back to the Gryffindor Common Room, now mercifully empty, and continued to practise there.

At two o'clock in the morning, Harry stood near the fireplace, surrounded by heaps of objects – books, quills, several upturned chairs, an old set of Gobstones, and Neville's toad, Trevor. Only in the last hour had Hermione seen any improvement. Harry finally started to get the hang of the Summoning Charm.

"That's better, Harry, that's loads better," Hermione said, exhausted but very pleased.

"Well, now we know what to do next time I can't manage a spell," Harry quipped, throwing a Rune Dictionary back to Hermione so that he could try again. "Threaten me with a dragon! Right." He raised his wand once more. "Accio Dictionary!"

The heavy book soared out of Hermione's hand, flew across the room, and Harry caught it.

"Harry, I really think you've got it!" said Hermione, delightedly.

"Just as long as it works tomorrow," Harry said. "The Firebolt's going to be much further away than the stuff in here. It's going to be in the castle, and I'm going to be out there in the grounds."

"That doesn't matter," said Hermione firmly. "Just as long as you're concentrating really, really hard on it, it'll come. Harry, we'd better get some sleep. You're going to need it."

Hermione awoke in confusion. She had no idea what day it was, or where she was. All she could surmise was that she was incredibly exhausted and confused as to why her alarm was going off. Why would she set her alarm so early, especially when she was up until past two helping Harry with the Summoning Charm?

And then it hit her.

Today was the First Task.

Today, Harry was going to face a dragon.

For the first time in her life, Hermionie wanted to skip all her classes. History of Magic just didn't seem as important when her best friend was about to face a fire-breathing mythical creature. Nonetheless, she went anyways. Professor Binns, the ghost teacher of the class, droned on and on, clueless as to what was about to go on later that afternoon at the Quidditch Pitch.

Hermione kept glancing at Harry during class, trying to gauge his mood. He looked as though he was in shock. His face was ashen, and his eyes were unfocused. She noticed he was constantly gripping his wand in his hand, involuntarily drawing the arched shape of the Summoning Spell. She doubted he even knew he was doing it.

After class, they were both sitting at the Gryffindor table for lunch (though Harry wasn't doing much eating) when Professor McGonagall hurried over.

"Potter, the champions have to come down into the grounds now. You have to get ready for your first task."

"Okay," Harry said in a sort of robotic voice. He stood up, and his fork fell onto his plate with a clatter. He didn't seem to notice.

"Good luck, Harry," Hermione whispered, willing herself not to burst into tears. "You'll be fine."

"Yeah," said Harry, in a voice that was most unlike his own.

Hermione watched him walk with Professor McGonagall out of the Great Hall and tried not to think about whether or not that was the last time she'd ever see him. A panic attack was bubbling up inside her, and her eyes started to burn. At any moment, she knew she'd explode in tears. The stress was just too much.

"Hey," came a soft voice behind her. She felt a pair of hands on her heaving shoulders. "Hey, take a deep breath. In and out. That's it." Ron's voice washed a feeling of slight calm over her.

"Oh, Ron," she cried, turning around and embracing him in a hug. "I'm so worried!"

"He's Harry Potter, the boy who lived. He's going to be just fine."

"Stop it!" Hermione screamed, attracting some stares from the other students. "Stop it right now! He did not put his name in there, and he does not want to get eaten by a dragon, so you can just sod off you bloody arse, Ronald Weasley!" She pushed him hard on his chest, sending him stumbling backwards. "You have been a bloody git this whole bloody time! I can't believe how unbelievably selfish you are just because you're jealous! Jealous of what?! Facing a damned dragon?! Come off it!"

"Hey! Okay! I'm sorry!" Ron said.

"Don't tell me you're sorry. Tell Harry," Hermione spat. "If he lives."

"He will."

"Promise me," Hermione said. "If you think he's going to live, then promise me."

"I promise," Ron said softly.

"Fine. Let's go," Hermione said, standing up and walking straight past Ron towards the grounds. When she reached the end of the table, she stopped and looked back. Ron hadn't moved. "Are you coming?"

"Mental," Ron said, shaking his head but following her out of the Great Hall doors.

The arena had been built specifically for the task, and Hermione wondered if the same Wizards responsible for the Quidditch World Cup were also in charge of making this arena; the similarities were unmistakable. Giant walls of seats encircled the arena, precisely like the Quidditch Pitch. Hermione even noticed some advertisements, albeit much less flashy ones. On one end of the pitch was a tent where, presumably, the Champions were being kept. On the other end of the pitch was a gated enclosure, and Hermione could see flashes of fire from within its depths. Hundreds of huge rocks dominated the terrain in the centre of the arena. Above it all was a top box where Hermione could see Dumbledore, Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, and Mr Crouch finding their seats.

To occupy herself (and to avoid thinking about Harry's impending doom), Hermione forced herself to continue looking around the stands, mentally cataloguing the mundane information around her. One of her first observations was that there seemed to be four different sections of the stands: A small section filled with Durmstrang students, a second section for the Beauxbaton students, a third section for a collection of random Wizards and Witches, and then the largest section full of Hogwart students.

Hermione noticed there seemed to be many more Durmstrang and Beauxbaton students than had come with the original groups. Perhaps they brought in more students for each task to cheer them on. Upon closer inspection, the third section of Witches and Wizards appeared to be Ministry Members and the press. Hermione briefly wondered if Keelin was among them.

The Hogwarts section was split into two sub-sections: one rather large one full of gold banners cheering for Cedric and a smaller one bathed in the maroon and gold colours of Gryffindor for Harry. Hermione was surprised at how many people were in Gryffindor colours, based on the taunts and ridicule both she and Harry had experienced in the halls.

Hermione was wedged between Ginny and Ron. Neville was in front of them, and the twins and Lee Jordan were behind them, seemingly collecting bets on who would win: the dragon or Harry. Hermione tried to tune them out - she was too nervous to yell at their insensitivity.

"Hey! Look! It's Charlie!" Ron suddenly shouted, pointing towards the middle of the arena. Sure enough, Charlie Weasley had walked out of the enclosed area holding what appeared to be a golden egg and manoeuvred around the treacherous terrain to place it near the enclosure's entrance, where there was a collection of other eggs, presumably real ones.

"No wonder they wanted nesting mothers," Hermione said. "The champions will probably have to retrieve the golden egg!"

No sooner did Hermione say that, did Dumbledore's voice boom across the arena, no doubt with help from the Sonorus Charm.

"Welcome, one and all, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the 155th Triwizard Tournament! This year's champions were selected by the Goblet of Fire for their bravery, intellect, courage, and resolve. Viktor Krum was selected to represent the Durmstrang Institute. Fleur Delacour is representing Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. And Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter have been selected to represent Hogwarts this year."

A scattering of boos was heard throughout the arena.

"Today marks the first task in which each champion must use their magical skills, intellect, and cunning to retrieve the Golden Egg from the nest of a mother dragon. Points will then be awarded to each champion by a panel of judges, including myself, Madame Olympe Maxime of Beauxbatons, Igor Karkaroff from the Durmstrang Institute, and both Mr Barty Crouch Sr and Mr Ludovic Bagman of the Ministry of Magic. I've been told the champions each have already selected their order and dragon at random and are ready to begin. And, with that, I wish the champions and their schools luck, and turn it over to our commentator for the afternoon, Ludo Bagman! Oh, Ludo isn't here yet? Well then, you'll have to settle for me until he makes his way to the top box.

"First to enter the arena is the champion from Hogwarts, Cedric Diggory, who will be facing a Swedish Short-Snout. Good luck, Cedric!"

A shrill whistle sounded, and the crowd went wild. Hermione grabbed Ron's arm as the paddock opened, and a silvery-blue dragon stalked out. A brilliant blue flame blasted out of its nostrils, eliciting a great cheer from the stands.

"Good afternoon, everyone!" Ludo Bagman's voice replaced Dumbledore's. "The 155th Triwizard Tournament is now underway! Look at that beautiful specimen of a dragon. Did you know the Swedish Short-Snout's blue flame is so hot that it can reduce timber and bone to ashes in mere seconds?! They are also quite agile flyers and can outmanoeuvre most species. Cedric definitely has his hands full with this one!"

A second whistle sounded.

"And speaking of Mr Diggory, that whistle marks his entrance. Let's give Cedric a round of applause!"

Hermione watched with terror as Cedric, dressed in a deep yellow shirt, inched his way out of the tent. Almost immediately, the Swedish Short-Snout fixed her eyes on Cedric as he crouched low near a cluster of rocks. Instinctively, the dragon flew up, landed within inches of the nest with the Golden Egg, and went on the defensive. The blue flames licked her nostrils as she kept Cedric in her line of vision, just waiting to strike.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered. "Cedric's not going to be able to make a single step without that dragon seeing it with that shirt. Who the hell let him wear that? He's like a bloody blazing target!"

Just then, Cedric made a mad dash to another cluster of rocks slightly closer to the dragon. The Swedish Short-Snout reared up and breathed a sharp jet of blue flames that barely missed Cedric as he took shelter behind a tall rock. The crowd collectively gasped and screamed.

"Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow!" Ludo Bagman shouted dramatically.

Hermione's view of Cedric was partially obscured by the rock he was hiding behind, but there was no reaction from the crowd on the other side to doubt he was still alive.

A few minutes later, the dragon seemed to calm down slightly. She hadn't seen Cedric since his last move and, perhaps, thought she had eliminated the threat. Suddenly, Cedric lept from behind the rocks and dove for another set, closer still to the nest. The dragon again reared up, roaring and spitting fire from his silvery snout. The crowd yelled in unison. Ludo Bagman gasped. "He's taking risks, this one!"

Hermione surmised Cedric planned to get closer and closer to the dragon using the rocks as a shield, but how he'd get under the dragon to get the egg and escape was yet to be understood.

His bright sleeve caught Hermione's (and the dragon's) eye as it raised from behind the still-glowing red boulder. A bright flash from the tip of his wand triggered another jet of fire from the dragon, narrowly missing him again.

As the crowd screamed again, another movement caught Hermione's eye. It appeared as though Cedric had used a transfiguration spell to change a rock into a dog, hopefully distracting the dragon. The dog was dark grey, the same colour as the rocks from which it came. It ran around in circles, apparently getting its footing. Surprised by the transformation, the dragon watched the dog with a keen interest, turning her head from Cedric's cluster of rocks.

Cedric suddenly made his move - he darted out from behind his hiding place and started running full force towards the nest. The dragon, however, caught sight of his yellow shirt and let out another fire stream, forcing Cedric to seek shelter again, this time in a much less strategic stronghold.

"Clever move!" Ludo Bagman yelled. "Pity it didn't work!"

Hermione wanted to turn away but couldn't bring herself to do it, much like the saying about watching a train wreck. She simply watched, filled with dread.

Cedric's Transfigured stone dog was thankfully unfazed by the dragon and continued to run around in meandering circles (probably because it was, in reality, a brainless rock). The Swedish Short-Snout inexplicably started following the dog around the arena, allowing Cedric to make his move. He jumped out from behind the rocks and dove at the nest, seizing the Golden Egg in his hands. He then sprinted as fast as he could, holding the egg like a rugby player, towards the safety of a rock. The dragon turned her head just as Cedric was nearing the shelter and dove back towards him, shooting jets of fire in a burning rage and singeing Cedric's yellow shirt. Thankfully, it wasn't a direct hit.

The crowd erupted in a roar to rival the Swedish Short-Snout. Almost immediately, Charlie and some other dragon handlers flew out from the paddock on brooms, shooting stunning spells directly at the dragon. Finally subdued, they used their wands to levitate the silvery-blue beast back into its cage. Once the coast was clear, Charlie hurried back out to reset the nest with another Golden Egg. On the other hand, Cedric limped towards the tent, clutching the Golden Egg tightly against his singed chest and face.

"Bravo! Very good indeed!" Bagman shouted. "And now the marks from the judges!"

Hermione and the rest of the crowd focused their attention on the top box as each of the judges raised their wands in the air. One by one, a long, silver ribbon shot out of them to twist itself into a number. Cedric stopped and turned to look as well. Ludo Bagman didn't seem to be saying the scores out loud, so Hermione did the quick math in her head. Out of a possible 50 points (10 from each of the five judges), Cedric was awarded 38 points.

"That was mental!" Ron said, letting out a huge breath. Hermione realised she, too, had been holding her breath the whole time. "I don't know if I can do that three more times," he said.

But there wasn't any time to spare. Within seconds of the score being held up, Ludo Bagman's voice once again boomed across the arena. "One down, three to go! Miss Delacour, if you please!"

Another shrill whistle sounded, and everyone's attention fell to the enclosure where the gates opened again. A deep green dragon emerged from the paddock, stretching its vast wings and letting out a surprisingly musical roar. Hermione recognised the dragon as a Common Welsh Green.

A fourth whistle sounded, and the pale blue jumpsuit of Fleur Delacour emerged from the tent. Hermione couldn't help but notice how, especially compared to Cedric, Fleur seemed to float around the rocks with much more agility and finesse. The Beauxbaton student moved like a cat from rock to rock, almost as if she wanted to hypnotise the dragon. To her surprise, Hermione glanced over at the Common Welsh Green and saw that it looked to be transfixed on Fleur's deft movements, swaying back and forth with every leap she made.

Fleur focused more on making wide arcs back and forth rather than getting closer to the beast. Her strategy was working to her advantage. The only downside was that she was barely closer to the maternal dragon than when she first set out a few minutes past. Perhaps it was her nerves or the frustration with not being closer, but Fleur suddenly jerked out her wand arm and pointed it at the dragon, breaking the spell.

"Oh, I'm not sure that was wise!" Badman's commentary boomed through the arena.

The dragon reared back and shot a steady stream of fire at Fleur before retreating closer to the nest of eggs. Fleur was shaken but determined. She picked up her dance where she had left off, darting back and forth like a pendulum and enchanting the dragon once more.

Bagman and the rest of the crowd watched in awe. "Oh… nearly! Careful now!" he said in an amplified whisper. The dragon seemed to be dozing off, catching herself as her head nodded and startling her awake. Fleur continued her agile dance until, finally, the Common Welsh Green was snoring peacefully right next to the nest of eggs. Fleur stopped her rhythmic moving and started running at full speed towards the nest.

As if in slow motion, Hermione and the rest of the crowd watched in horror as one of the stones Fleur sprinted across came loose with a loud clunk, waking the Welsh Green again!

"Good Lord, I thought she'd had it then!" Bagman boomed as Fleur retreated to the safety of a rock.

Hermione had to give it to her. Fleur was determined. She started weaving back and forth a third time, and it seemed it was working again. Either her enticing powers were as strong with dragons as they were with Ron, or she was just that good of a witch. Finally, the dragon was asleep once more. Fleur had learned her lesson, however. Instead of running as fast as she could towards the egg, she took her time and was careful not to do anything that would awaken the dragon.

The crowd held its collective breath as she finally reached the nest and stretched out her arms to grab the Golden Egg. She successfully snatched it and, surprisingly, no one in the crowd cheered - they were all too nervous about waking the dragon.

Luckily, the dragon stayed asleep. Unluckily, she had begun to start snoring quite forcefully, and one of her gentle musical hums was paired with a shot of fire that hit Fleur's pale blue skirt, lighting it up instantaneously. A quick Aguamenti Charm rectified the situation before the fire spread, and as soon as Fleur was at a safe distance from the Common Welsh Green, Charlie and his coworkers came out and issued their own stunning spells to subdue the dragon. As soon as it was safe, the crowd erupted in a roar!

"Bravo, Miss Delacour!" Ludo boomed. "And now for her scores!"

Everyone looked up to see a combined score of 35 points from the judges, and the Hogwarts stands went wild! Cedric was in first place!

A few minutes later, the whole process was repeated. Out of the enclosure stalked the third dragon: The Chinese Fireball. The Fireball was scarlet in colour and smooth-scaled, with a fringe of golden spikes around its snub-snouted face and extremely protuberant eyes. From its nostrils came a mushroom-shaped ball of flame that looked to destroy anything in its path. "And here comes Mr Krum!" Ludo Bagman cried.

Viktor, wearing a maroon sports jumper similar in colour to the Chinese Fireball, marched out of the tent with more confidence and swagger than the two champions before him combined. Before anyone could settle in for the match, Krum thrust his wand in the air and cried, "Oculus Inflammatus!" Out of his wand shot a bright pink stream of magic aimed directly at the Fireball's protruding eyes.

"Very daring!" Bagman yelled as the Chinese Fireball emitted a horrible, roaring shriek as the curse hit her directly in the eyes.

Almost instantaneously, the dragon's eyes were covered with a putrid-looking crust, completely blocking its vision. The dragon started to stumble around Krum capitalised on the dragon's confusion and made a dive for the golden egg. "That's some nerve he's showing!" Ludo yelled just as the Chinese Firebolt started to tip over directly in Krum's path.

Luckily for Krum, the dragon landed on and crushed half of the eggs instead of him, leaving him free to grab the Golden Egg and retreat to the tent as the crowd cheered. "And yes! He's got the Egg!" Ludo Bagman screamed with the crowd.

Hermione got caught up in the thundering applause of the crowd until she realised that if Viktor was finished, that meant it was Harry's turn next.

Her stomach turned to lead and her heart started racing. She was barely able to register the Bulgarian's scores through her panic. However, the soft groan of the Hogwarts stands helped her make sense of it all. Krum had been awarded 40 points, putting him slightly ahead of Cedric in the standings.

Hermione stopped clapping and just gripped Ron with all of her might. She felt Ginny do the same beside her. They all watched with bated breath as the paddock to the enclosure slowly opened to reveal the only dragon left: the fiercest of them all, the Hungarian Horntail. It had black scales and was lizard-like in appearance. It had yellow eyes, with vertical pupils like a cat's, bronze horns, and similarly coloured spikes that protruded from its long tail.

Another whistle signified Harry's entrance into the arena. Hermione breathlessly watched as her best friend walked slowly into the enclosure. The Horntail, on the other hand, was crouched low over her nest of eggs, her wings half-furled, and her yellow eyes watching Harry's every move. Her long, spiked tail thrashed back and forth, leaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground.

Hermione felt Ron stiffen next to her as he held his breath as well. "Bloody hell," he whispered, the terror making it seem much louder than it was.

They watched with dread as Harry took a few more hesitant steps towards the beast and raised his arm. "Accio Firebolt!" he cried (or at least that's what Hermione assumed he cried since the crowd was much too noisy to hear).

Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Harry, and the rest of the audience waited breathlessly in anticipation.

Nothing happened.

"Oh no," Hermione sobbed. "It didn't work."

"What?! What didn't work?!" sputtered Ron, a look of pure terror on his face.

"The Summoning Spell!" Hermione could barely get it out of her mouth through the panic attack, seizing her whole body.

But then she heard a low whistle from beyond the arena's stands. Hermione looked up and could just make out the shiny wood patina of Harry's trusty Firebolt as it soared through the air and stopped dead in mid-air beside Harry.

"It's his broom! Ladies and gentlemen, Harry Potter summoned his broom!" Ludo Bagman was practically hoarse at this point. "Magnificent!"

Harry swung his leg over the broom, kicked off from the ground, and soared straight up and out of the enclosure. A cheer erupted from the stands as Harry got smaller and smaller as he flew higher and higher.

If Hermione didn't know better, she'd just assume she was watching Harry play yet another Quidditch match. She watched him level out with a high vantage point to survey the pitch. She could envision his face as he spotted the Golden Egg far below. He probably imagined it as a Golden Snitch, ready to be snatched up like in a match against Slytherin.

Harry suddenly started to dive. Hermione was reminded of the dive Viktor Krum had performed at the Quidditch World Cup. She stole a look at the Horntail and watched it follow Harry back and forth. The Horntail shot a jet of fire towards Harry, who expertly dodged it without much effort.

"Great Scott!" Ludo Bagman whooped. "He can fly! Are you watching this, Mr Krum?!"

Harry soared back up and started to circle. The Horntail was still following his progress; its head kept revolving on its long neck. Hermione realised Harry was counting on this. If the Horntail was dizzy, he could have a chance.

Harry plummeted just as the Horntail opened its mouth, but this time, Harry was less lucky. He missed the flames, but the dragon's tail whipped up and hit Harry's shoulders.

The crowd erupted in screams and groans. Hermione could do neither. She was frozen in complete fear. All she could do was watch as Harry began to fly back and forth, going higher and higher, drawing the Horntail away from the nest of eggs. And then, finally, the dragon reared, spreading her great black leathery wings at last and rose to meet him. Harry took his chance and dove. Before the dragon knew what Harry had done, he was already to the now unprotected nest, within inches of the Golden Egg.

And then he grabbed it.

And it was over.

And he was still alive.

As Harry soared over the stands with the Golden Egg tucked under his arm, the arena exploded with noise. "Look at that!" Bagman was yelling. "Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr Potter!"

The dragon keepers rushed forward to subdue the Horntail as Harry flew down to the entrance where Professor McGonagall, Professor Moody, and Hagrid were hurrying to meet him. Harry disappeared into the tent as the keepers struggled to get the Horntail under their control.

Hermione didn't care that the situation wasn't safe, she had to see Harry. She and Ron immediately took off, running towards the tent without saying a word to each other.

"Harry, you were brilliant!' Hermione said squeakily. "You were amazing! You really were!"

Harry smiled but then turned his attention to Ron. Hermione looked over. Ron was very white and seemed to be trembling.

"Harry," he said very seriously. "Whoever put your name in that Goblet – I – I reckon they're trying to do you in!"

"Caught on, have you?" said Harry coldly. "Took you long enough."

Hermione stood nervously between them, looking from one to the other. Ron opened his mouth uncertainly, but nothing came out.

"It's OK," Harry said before Ron could get the words out. "Forget it."

"No," said Ron. "'I shouldn't've –"

"Forget it," Harry said.

Ron grinned nervously at him, and Harry grinned back. Hermione burst into tears. Everything she had been holding inside for the last month came pouring out of her.

"There's nothing to cry about!' Harry told her.

"You two are so stupid," she shouted, stamping her foot on the ground, tears splashing down her front. She was so angry but relieved that she had no idea what to do with herself. Part of her wanted to hit them both, and the other part wanted to hug them tightly. In the end, the hug won out, and she grabbed them both in a bear hug. Then, without saying another word, she ran from them, overcome with emotions. It took her five minutes of deep breathing behind the tent to get her heart back under some semblance of control.

Hermione returned to the tent after calming down, just in time to see Harry's scores. He had tied with Viktor Krum in first place with 40 points!

"'You're tied in first place, Harry! You and Krum!" said Charlie Weasley, hurrying to meet them as they set off back towards the school. "Listen, I've got to go and send Mum an owl- I swore I'd tell her what happened – but that was unbelievable! Oh yeah – and they told me to tell you you've got to hang around for a few more minutes... Bagman wants a word back in the champions' tent."

Ron and Hermione agreed to wait for Harry as he ran back into the tent. A few minutes later, he reemerged, and the three of them started to walk back to the castle around the edge of the Forest. Ron and Hermione took turns filling Harry in on what the other Champions had done when a Witch in acid-green robes popped out of a clump of trees. Hermione recognised her as Rita Skeeter, the rag reporter.

"Congratulations, Harry!" she said, beaming at him. "I wonder if you could give me a quick word? How you felt facing that dragon? How do you feel now about the fairness of the scoring?"

"Yeah, you can have a word," said Harry savagely. "Goodbye."