Chapter Four

The Dragon's Nest

:.:.:

Grandad —

Sorry it's taken me this long to write. Things have just been a bit hectic around here what with the tournament and all. Hogwarts is incredible, by the way. But anyway, the goblet selected the three champions from each school about a week ago, and it turns out there were some exceptions which needed to be made. For starters, there are actually four champions.

Fleur Delacour is the Beauxbatons champion — a stuck up half-veela. Cedric Diggory is the Hogwarts champion, but there was also another chosen. Mad-Eye Moody believes someone charmed the goblet into thinking there were four schools because Harry Potter was chosen as the other Hogwarts champion. And as for Durmstrang...I'm the champion. But I didn't put my name in! Someone else must've!

That being said, I reckon it's all beginning to sink in and I'm actually growing worried about the first task. It's only days away but it feels more like hours. I've absolutely no idea what I'll be up against come the 24th of November, and I wager that's what's got me so anxious... Oh well. Wish me luck, I suppose.

Oh, and another thing — How come you never told me how rare my wand core is? Did you know Great Uncle Felix made it with the tail feather of an Augurey?

Well, that's it. So again, wish me luck.

— Demetria

Up in the Owlery of Hogwarts, I whistled for an owl to deliver my letter to Grandad. A fair-sized brown owl swooped in before me and I placed the envelope in between it's beak. "To Carlisle Harris," I told it, running a gentle hand down it's head in thanks. And so, mouth too pre-occupied to hoot, it merely blinked it's silver eyes in comprehension and took off out the window.

In days — days — I would be facing Merlin-knows-what in Merlin-knows-where and I couldn't stand it. I simply had to know what was was waiting for me for the first task.

I'd made my way down from the the Owlery tower and very quickly found myself amidst a sea of students bearing pins which read in luminous red letters:

SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY —

THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION!

I'd even passed by a particular group of Hogwarts students pressing said badges to their chests, only to have the message change and glow in green:

POTTER STINKS

Poor Harry. I honestly couldn't help feeling bad for him — having to put up with nearly his entire school turning on him, including his best friend and Fred and George's youngest brother Ron. Not to mention that rubbish Rita Skeeter had published ten days prior. Not only was it centered on Harry himself, but I was positive Rita had fabricated every one of Harry's interview 'answers'.

Speaking of, much to both my surprise and appreciation, Rita Skeeter hadn't published anything on my 'misunderstood' wand…yet, anyway. But back to Harry, and even the interview, I caught sight of him making his way down the corridor as numerous Slytherins shouted quotes from the article at him.

"Want a hanky, Potter, in case you start crying in Transfiguration?"

"Since when have you been one of the top students in the school, Potter? Or is this — ?"

But I didn't even allow the speaker to finish, for I'd already called Harry's name from down the hall. "Hey — Harry!"

"Yeah, that's right!" he wheeled around and shouted out. "I've just been crying my eyes out over my dead mum, and I'm just off to do a bit more…"

"Ace," I commented with a smirk upon nearing him. "We can cry over our dead mums together."

Color rose in Harry's face as his hand sheepishly reached for the back of his neck. "Er, right — Sorry…Demetria — I didn't know it was you."

"That's all right, Harry," I assured him. "Just wanted a quick word with you, if you can spare it?"

His hand dropped to his side, though he still appeared somewhat taken aback. "Yeah, sure — Of course," he said. So we disappeared from the sight of those taunting Slytherins around the corner, Harry seeming to have relaxed now. "What's up?"

"I don't mean to bring up a sore spot, and forgive me if this is too personal," I began, Harry growing a bit on edge once again upon hearing that. "but Fred and George told me about your fighting with Ron," He then appeared as though he wanted to be angry but, for whatever reason, he kept it in check. "I just wanted to say that…well, my being champion has caused the same problem between myself and a good friend of mine. He doesn't believe me, Ron doesn't believe you —"

"Neither does the rest of the school, unfortunately." A facial expression which had just begun to soften then hardened once again.

"Look, I know it's not really my place, but I just wanted to let you know that…we're on the same side here," I told him wholeheartedly. "And don't worry, Ron'll come around sooner or later. Not even your entire school can keep this up forever. So just — y'know — hang in there and don't let them get to you."

Finally, Harry had composed himself, all anger melting from those emerald green orbs. "Thanks…really," he said in a tone of surprise, offering me a small smile which I returned. "I'm sure your friend'll come around soon too."

I sighed. "Here's hoping." But just as I'd turned to make my way back down the corridor from which I'd just come, Harry had called out my name. I pivoted to face him. "Yeah?"

"You said you had a, um…" He took a moment to consider finishing before evidently deciding against it. "Er, forget it. I'll see you around, Demetria."

"Alright," I shrugged. "See you, Harry."

–

Sunday morning had absolutely nothing to offer, other than the building tension about the first task. And quite frankly, preparing myself to face the unknown wasn't exactly how I'd planned to spend it. Granted, I could have very well joined a great deal of the Hogwarts population in visiting the wizarding village of Hogsmeade, but I truly wasn't in the mood. Though if there were ever a time I would desperately need a bit of fun, that time was now…Finn didn't allow me to forget that as we sat among the Slytherins in the Great Hall for breakfast.

"C'mon, Dem," he attempted to coax. "The Three Broomsticks, Honeydukes, Zonko's… You know you love Zonko's…"

"Finn, I've already told you — I'm not going. If you want to go so badly, just take Viktor or someone before you wet yourself," I told him, only half-joking.

"Finn does have a point though, Demetria," Viktor chimed in. "It vould be vise to get your mind off of this task and just relax."

"I do not need to relax, Vik," I firmly insisted. "And I wish you'd all stop telling me that!"

Suddenly, the glass of pumpkin juice Draco was about to drink from, shattered right before us. All three blokes turned to look at me, eyes narrowed skeptically. "You were saying…?" said Draco.

Burying my head in my hands, I took deep breaths in an attempt to compose myself. When I felt calmed, I lifted my head, gaze darting between the three of them. "See — I'm fine," I assured.

"Vhy, if it isn't the Durmstrang Champion descending from on high to mingle with the commoners," came Grigor's acidic tone as he passed with Nikolai. The latter came up behind me and shoved my face into the bowl of Pixie Puffs which, up until that point, hadn't served any purpose. Nikolai and Grigor both strode off snickering just before my composure was disturbed, resulting in revealing the pair's boxers. They whipped around, probably expecting to have seen me standing right behind them, but had clearly forgotten magic required no such movement.

The Great Hall began to notice the two of them and commenced laughter, which I would have done myself had it not been for my cereal-soaked face and both my irritation and stress levels through the Hall's enchanted ceiling. So instead, after wiping the cereal off, I stood from the bench and pushed past the two barmpots struggling to grasp their trousers. Never did I think I'd have to turn on Grigor like I did, but that git needed to come to his senses.

"Demetria!" called out a voice just as I'd exited the Great Hall. Upon pivoting, I found it to be…

"Oh hey, Cedric." Irritation now in check, I was able to greet the Hufflepuff with a small grin.

"Er, nice job back there," he commented, one hand snaking nervously around the back of his neck.

"Thanks, they deserved it," I told him, the two of us beginning to stroll down the corridor with no particular destination in mind. "So, you going to Hogsmeade today?"

"Actually, that's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about," he admitted, smiling sheepishly and dropping his hand to his side. "I was wondering if you'd…Well, if you'd fancy going with me…?"

I couldn't say I was completely surprised considering how nervous he was. From what I'd seen for myself, Cedric Diggory was hardly someone I'd deem that type. But regardless of how much I suddenly thought going to Hogsmeade was a good idea after all, I knew I couldn't go with Cedric. After all, I was beginning to stray from the path expected of me as it was. Surely an entire afternoon with someone like Diggory would knock me clear off of it.

"I'd love to, Cedric, but I can't," I was forced to tell him. "I already told a mate of mine I'd go with him."

But the crestfallen reply of Cedric was something I never did get the chance to hear, for who should appear out of the Hall but none other than Finn. He beamed as he made his way over, bright green eyes gleaming. "You've decided to go then?"

Well, it appeared I was going to Hogsmeade either way… "Yeah," I admitted.

"Ace!" commented Finn before catching sight of Cedric. "Hey, you're Cedric, right?"

"That's right — Cedric Diggory," he introduced, shaking Finn's hand briefly. "And you are…?"

"Finn Archer," he supplied. "Pleased to meet you. Y'know, you're free to join us if you'd like."

Cedric seemed to look to me for approval to which I grinned in reply. There was clearly no avoiding this day spent with Diggory anyway. I might as well have encouraged it.

"I'd be honored," said Cedric, his smile directed towards me.

–

All right, so perhaps I was in need of a trip to Hogsmeade. The afternoon sky had arranged itself since morning and I found myself completely relaxed underneath it. Cedric, Finn, and I continued to wander through the picturesque little village of thatched cottages and shops, paying visit to whichever ones we passed. But as we stepped out of Honeydukes Sweetshop, I had just taken a bite of a Liquorice Wand when the November wind chill whipped against my face. And despite my hardly ever being cold, I released a shiver which Cedric noticed.

"Cold, Demetria?" he observed with concern, his hand already clutching his jacket's zipper.

I simply pulled my own jacket closer to my body and assured him, "That's alright, Cedric. I'm fine."

"Yeah, no worries, Ced," Finn chimed in, slinging his arm around my shoulders. "Norway's brought us colder days than this."

"Well, at least take this," Cedric insisted, unraveling the yellow and black striped scarf from around his neck. After he draped the Hufflepuff colors around my own neck, I smiled at him graciously. He returned it and we found ourselves simply standing there and, well…smiling.

"Butterbeer, anyone?" Finn thankfully interrupted; I eagerly nodded. "On second thought, we haven't even been to Zonko's yet!" Finn then took Cedric and walked directly behind me.

"Finn, what're you doing?" I questioned, attempting to turn around. He let me do no such thing.

"Shielding you," came his reply as though it were obvious.

But before I could inquire as to what exactly he was shielding me from, Cedric had told me after a quick glance around. "Rita Skeeter," he informed me.

And so regardless of Finn and Cedric's human shield, I pivoted and fell victim to curiosity. Sure enough, Rita Skeeter and her photographer friend had just emerged from the Three Broomsticks pub. Speaking in low voices, they had just passed by that Hermione Granger without so much as a second glance to her. I then began to wonder why Hermione was in the village alone. She had to have friends, didn't she?

But unfortunately, curiosity killed the cat…Or well, got the attention of the twisted reporter, for Rita Skeeter was making a rather fierce bee-line right toward me. So pretending I didn't even see her, I innocently called out Hermione's name and ran to catch up with her, Finn and Cedric trailing behind.

"Hermione, there you are!" I called out for Rita's sake before dropping my voice lower for Hermione. "Just go with it, I don't want that woman bombarding me with her questions."

Hermione blinked her big brown eyes in understanding before calling out, "Demetria, you're late!" and then dropping her voice as well. "Yes well, she did make a right mess out of Harry's story, didn't she?"

"She's gone," said Finn from beside me. "Now, how about that butterbeer?" He and Cedric made for the entrance, whilst I stood back a moment with Hermione.

"Y'know, if you're not here with anyone, you could join us?" I invited.

She looked off to the side with a questioning look before turning back to face me. "Thank you, Demetria, but I'm s'posed to be meeting Ron and Harry here very soon."

"Have they made up?" I couldn't help but inquire.

"That's what I'm hoping to get them to do." She smiled.

"All right, well good luck." I mirrored her's before entering the pub myself. Finn and Cedric hadn't wandered far, still lingering close to the front door. So upon spotting me, we all went to hunt down a table in the crowded pub. Though it wasn't packed nearly enough for me to miss Ron already seated with Fred, George, and Lee. I considered going to tell Hermione, but she was probably still waiting for Harry anyway.

"It doesn't look as though we'll be finding a table of our own," Cedric observed.

"Well then why not with them?" I pointed to the spacey booth occupied by the three Weasleys and Lee.

"Ace," commented Finn who began making his way over. I followed, Cedric insisting on going to buy the drinks.

Ron appeared to be in the midst a dreadfully boring story until Finn and I appeared and brought a smile to the three other boys' faces. "Have room for three more?" I asked them.

"Absolutely!" was Fred's relieved response. He and the others shifted and I climbed in first, now seated between George and Finn. "So where's the third member of your party?"

"Or have you seriously miscounted?" teased George.

"He's getting our drinks," Finn explained.

"You're here with Pretty Boy then are you, Demetria?" asked Fred, reaching and tugging on my scarf in jest.

I unwrapped it from around my neck and placed it on the table. "Yes, we're here with Cedric," I corrected him, though maintaining a smile.

"What?!" asked Ron, outraged. "Diggory?! I refuse to sit with the enemy!"

"Now now, ickle Ronniekins," said George patronizingly. "don't go getting your boxers in a bunch."

"Besides, if anyone's going to be the enemy here," came Finn. "it's clearly Demetria."

"Well Demetria didn't turn the entire school against —"

Ron didn't even have to finish. We all knew who he meant. And though it wasn't my place, I found myself telling him, "Why don't you go make up with him, Ron?"

"Make out with him, you say?!" Fred continued to joke, he and George now directing kissy faces at their younger brother.

"Er, am I interrupting something?" Cedric asked upon arriving, sliding three butterbeers on the table.

"Just Fred and George being tosspots," I informed him. "Nothing new."

They both stuck out their tongues at me and I returned the childish gesture. I was beginning to fit in all too dangerously well around here.

–

It was nearly midnight, the sun long gone and already tucked beneath the horizon line, but the Durmstrang blokes and I had decided to remain on deck that evening. Some played Exploding Snap or Wizard's Chess, others merely engaged in conversation, and then there were a select few who were pitifully attempting to woo a few Beauxbatons birds in French. I, however, kept away from it all, the First Task having crept back into my mind. So I sat on the starboard railing, wrapping my arms around the knees I'd brought up close to my chest, and watched the pale moon reflect itself perfectly in the Black Lake. The waters were calm, humming a gentle lullaby against the ship as it swayed ever-so-slightly with the lake. It had actually began to soothe me despite the blokes' noise, until there came a sudden angry outburst à la Beauxbatons.

Bounding down from the railing, I made my way over to the port side and watched in amusement with the others as Nikolai and a few other blokes endured the girls' fierce, French scolding. But only when my eyes found Grigor down there among them did I feel any sort of remorse. When would he finally forgive me and realize I never put my name in, never wanted to be the school's champion? Would it take my bloody death in the tournament?! Godric, I hoped not.

Finally, with Fleur predictably their ring leader, the girls' began marching toward their carriage, dramatically swishing their hair behind them as they went. The blokes, appearing both defeated and somewhat offended, made their way back on deck. And though normally I would be inclined to a snide comment regarding Nikolai's striking out I bit my tongue, for I was in no mood for what would then ensue. And though I was a bit surprised he didn't have anything to say to me as he passed, I was far more shocked that Grigor actually stood before me with regret pouring from those big brown orbs of his. He opened his mouth to say something, perhaps even apologize, but it snapped into a hard line just as quickly, envy eating away at any trace of kindness in his eyes.

Turning to leave, he roughly collided with my shoulder and threw me off balance. I would have fallen had it not been for Viktor.

"Forgive him, Demi," said the Bulgarian Quidditch star wisely, one arm snaked around my waist. "There is no darkness, but ignorance."

Though at this point, one could hardly call it ignorance. Grigor knew I was right, he was just too prideful to admit his being a git and apologize. But I also knew it was only a matter of time before he came around…at least I hoped so anyway. Grigor was never one for giving up so easily.

"Oi, Princess!" And speaking of not giving up…

I looked back out over the port railing and Fred and George Weasley standing as close to the edge of land and lake as possible. "Well if it isn't the Ginger Mingers," I jested; their smirks, naturally, remained intact.

"Pet names already, love?" retorted George.

"At least take us on a proper date first," Fred joined in.

I looked to Viktor who appeared rather amused and rolled my eyes. "Can I help you with something, gents?" I called back out to them.

"Not this evening, no," replied Fred.

Naturally, George came next and said, "But we can help you with something."

Knowing those two, it couldn't have been anything good, but my curiosity had gotten the best of me as I passed Viktor and made my way down the ramp and off the ship, the twins meeting me at the bottom.

"What're you two on about?" I immediately inquired.

George offered a lop-sided grin and asked as though he already knew: "Worried about the First Task?"

"Nothing to be worried about, Weasley." I kept up my rather convincing bluff, the lie so smooth in comparison to my skin chilling at the very mention of it.

"I dunno, Princess," cooed Fred. "People have died in the tournament, after all."

Confidence regained, I crossed my arms with my weight shifted to the right and clarified, "If you're referring to the incident in 1792, no Champion was actually killed. The three judges were simply injured."

"Oi, regardless…" began Fred, the smirk never faltering. "If I were Champion, I'd want to at least know what I'd be up against."

"Oh and I suppose you two could tell me?" I asked, slightly amused.

"We could tell you…" Fred looked to his twin.

"…or we could show you." His baby blue eyes darted between myself and the Forbidden Forest.

No matter which I chose — ignoring the twins or not — neither would cure my anxiety. I would either scare myself with the endless possibilities of what the task would be, or I would be worried about what I actually knew it to be. So considering I was out of luck on that anyway, I couldn't find a reason to turn down their offer. Unless…

"Is this some sort of trick?" I couldn't help asking, as though I'd get a truthful response from them if it was.

"Come now, love," came Fred's smooth attempt at coaxing. "Though we may be what some would call 'trouble'…"

"…there's no tricks when lives are on the line," said George wholeheartedly.

But I couldn't even summon a response to that, for I actually found myself lost in how sincere George Weasley could be. My expression must have still read disbelief because the twins both raised their hands to their hearts and simultaneously recited, "We solemnly swear it."

"Alright then," I'd decided, but then a second thought had dawned on me. "What's in it for you two?"

We started toward the forest, one twin per side of me, when Fred looked to me in mild amusement and asked, "Long way from home then, are you?"

"And what's that s'posed to mean?" I could sense the twins exchanging significant looks from either side of me, but my eyes remained fixed on the edge of the forest.

Fred began. "Well, if those Durmstrang blokes of yours are only willing to trade favors —"

"— allow Freddie and I to be your prime example of gentlemen." When I'd finally turned my head to show George my skeptical brow, he cut right to it. "Nothing's in it for us, love. Just here to help you."

"And spend this romantic, moon-lit evening with a pretty bird rather than the sad, red puppy dog who's been tailing us all day," added Fred with a playful wink, Ron being the puppy.

"So then where's this pretty bird of yours?" I teased, nudging Fred. "Seems to me she's stood you blokes up." The three of us stood before the Forbidden Forest now, not a spec of moonlight could be seen through it.

"Seems to me that you're right."

"At least we've still got you, Demetria," said George, joining in.

I laughed despite myself and the boys smiled, apparently pleased with themselves. "You blokes do know where you're going, don't you?" I asked as the three of us began to delve deeper into the forest.

"Lumos Maxima!" Fred called out, and the darkness which once swallowed us up was being pushed aside by a massive ball of light at the end of Fred's wand.

"'Course we do, Princess," George replied instead. "But I'd still recommend watching your step, for as we recall —"

His twin joined him in saying, "— forests are not your strong suit."

I was beginning to think I'd never hear the end of it — the incident at the World Cup, which was undoubtedly what they were referring to. But given the state they'd found me in — all cut up and bleeding and what have you — I suppose it made sense for them to worry. Although with everything lit up in front of us for about five feet, I'd say I was more than capable of navigating my way through and remaining unscathed.

"Oi, Georgie," Fred's whisper cut through what had once been nothing more than the sounds of our footsteps. "You don't reckon Hagrid'll be out here, d'you?"

"Hagrid?" I parroted curiously, and louder than intended.

Suddenly, a man's deep voice seemed to boom throughout the forest as he called out in an unfamiliar accent, "Who's there?"

Fred fiercely whispered "Nox!" And once our eyes had adjusted to the darkness and could make out the shapes of one another, he sarcastically teased, "A bit louder, Demetria. Don't think he quite got our location."

"Well who the bloody hell is he?" I demanded. "Or what is he?"

"Well now we know that Harry knows about the —"

But George had thrown his hand over his twin's mouth and began to speak instead, answering my question.

"He's the gamekeeper here at Hogwarts," he explained. "Half-giant."

"Is that…what I'm facing in the First Task?" I inquired almost sheepishly.

"If only, love," was George's genuinely saddened response.

"These groun's er off limits!" came the voice of Hagrid once again.

"I am sure eet eez nothing, 'Agrid," insisted the all-too-familiar voice of Madame Maxime. "Now tell me, 'ow much farzer?" But her question was answered just as mine was, for there came an unmistakable, earsplitting roar.

I turned to face the twins though I could hardly decode their expressions. "Why don't you go on ahead?" George suggested. "Just keep out of sight."

"See if you can find Harry," said Fred fervently.

And though confused I nodded, not that they could see it. But I moved as quickly and quietly as I could toward the two giant figures. So with my eyes stuck on them, I failed to notice whatever I then collided with in front of me, though even when I looked it appeared as though nothing were there.

"Demetria?" I heard someone say. It almost sounded like —

"Harry?" And no sooner had I said it, then did that very green-eyed and scarred face appear before me. Harry then stood and helped me to my feet, a silverish cloak of sorts held in his hands. "Is that an — ?"

"Invisibility Cloak, yeah," he replied, tossing it around the both of us. "It was my dad's. What're you doing here?"

"Fred and George Weasley said they could show me what we'd be facing in the First Task," I didn't even bother lying; another roar sounded just as deafening as the first. "And I'm hoping to Godric it's not that."

But I knew as well as Harry did that it was — whatever it was. And suddenly, a collection of bonfires were mirrored in those deep green orbs, and there came the reflection of men darting around them in those round spectacles. But I didn't turn around to see for myself until Harry's mouth fell open. And upon turning, I did the same.

Four fully grown, enormous, vicious-looking dragons… dragons! They were rearing onto their hind legs inside an enclosure fenced with thick planks of wood, roaring and snorting with torrents of fire shooting into the dark sky. One of them, silvery-blue, had long, pointed horns and was snapping and snarling at the wizards on the ground. I imagined it snapping its fanged mouth at me. Another, smooth-scaled and green, was writhing and stamping with all its might. I imagined myself underneath its giant feet. A third, red with an odd fringe of fine gold spikes around its face, shot mushroom-shaped fire clouds into the air. I imagined myself being shot into the sky along with them. And nearest to us stood a gigantic black one, more lizard-like than the others. I simply imagined this one swallowing me whole.

"Keep back there, Hagrid!" yelled a wizard near the fence, straining on the chain he was holding to bound the beasts. "They can shoot fire at a range of twenty feet, you know! I've seen this Horntail do forty!"

Harry and I moved up a bit closer, the half-giant Hagrid, though large, still stood shorter than Madame Maxime. "Is'n' it beautiful?" he asked her softly.

"It's no good!" yelled another wizard. "Stunning Spells, on the count of three!" Each of the dragon keepers pulled out their wands.

"Stupefy!" they shouted altogether, the spells shooting into the darkness like fiery rockets and then bursting in showers of stars on the dragons' scaly hides. They continued to struggle to break lose of their bonds, but the wizards only tightened their grips on the chains.

"Wan' a closer look?" Hagrid excitedly asked Madame Maxime. Her answer must have been a 'yes' because the pair moved right up to the fence, as did Harry and I. And stepping forward then was the red-headed wizard who'd called out to Hagrid before. If I hadn't known better, I'd have said was the older Weasley brother who was a dragon keeper. After all, that would explain how they knew about the dragons. What was his name again? Chuckie…Chester…Chad…Sheldon?!

"All right, Hagrid?" Well whoever the sodding hell he was, he came panting over to Hagrid and Madame Maxime. "They should be okay now — we put them out with a Sleeping Draught on the way here, though it might be better for them to wake up in the dark and the quiet — but, like you saw, they weren't happy, not happy at all —"

"What breeds you got here, Charlie?" Hagrid asked him. Charlie, of course! But had I really said Sheldon…?

"This is a Hungarian Horntail," said Charlie in reference to the closest dragon, the black one. "There's a Common Welsh Green over there, the smaller one — a Swedish Short-Snout, that blue-grey — and a Chinese Fireball, that's the red."

Just after Charlie's explanation, Madame Maxime was already strolling away along the edge of the enclosure, gazing upon the stunned dragons. Charlie chose this time to say, "I didn't know you were bringing her, Hagrid. The champions aren't supposed to know what's coming — she's bound to tell her student, isn't she?"

Oh, no doubt about that. I could just see the two of them squaking in French over it, probably sharing the information with every student in their ickle blue carriages.

"Jus' thought she'd like ter see 'em." Hagrid shrugged his giant shoulders, though his eyes remained glazed over at the dragons.

"Really romantic date, Hagrid," Charlie said, shaking his head.

But Hagrid simply ignored this comment and said, "Four… So it's one fer each o' the champions, is it? What've they gotta do — fight 'em?"

"Just get past them, I reckon," Charlie told him. "We'll be on hand if it gets nasty, Extinguishing Spells at the ready. They wanted nesting mothers, I don't know why…but I tell you this, I don't envy the one who gets the Horntail. Vicious thing. Its back end's as dangerous as its front, look."

Charlie pointed at the Horntail's tail where long, bronze-colored spikes could be detected protruding along it every few inches. It sent a chill down my spine to think there was a chance I'd be up against that bloody beast come Sunday. Still speaking of it, five of the fellow keepers staggered up to the creature, carrying a clutch of huge granite-grey eggs between them in a blanket. They placed them carefully at the Horntail's side and Hagrid released a sigh of longing.

"I've got them counted, Hagrid," said Charlie sternly before asking, "How's Harry?"

But Hagrid, still gazing at the eggs, only replied with, "Fine." I looked to Harry, his body already hardened like marble next to me, and saw the pool of worry in his eyes. And upon his turning to face me, we each swam in one another's.

"Just hope he's still fine after he's faced this lot," Charlie said grimly. "I didn't dare tell Mum what he's got to do for the first task; she's already having kittens about him…" he then imitated who I would imagine to be Mrs. Weasley. "'How could they let him enter that tournament, he's much too young! I thought they were all safe, I thought there was going to be an age limit! Not to mention now they've put Demetria's life in danger as well!' Of course, Demetria Harris has more so been Remus's main worry. But Mum was in floods after that Daily Prophet article about Harry. 'He still cries about his parents! Oh bless him, I never knew!'"

If it were up to me, I would've stayed to find out why Mrs. Weasley cared so much for me, how she already knew me, and who the hell Remus was. But apparently, Harry had had enough and I was forced to follow him as he jerked away and began to walk off.

"Sorry about that," he said.

"Yeah," I said absentmindedly, dragons still on my brain. "What? Oh, right — It's fine."

"Just one question…" prodded Harry, the two of us having come to a halt.

"How d'you know Mrs. Weasley…and Remus Lupin?" he asked exactly what I was wondering myself.

"I don't ever remember meeting either of them," I assured him. "I'm sure they're just concerned what with my being underaged and all."

"Yeah…s'pose you're right," he said, though mostly to himself.

Stepping out from under the cloak, I stared off dead ahead in hopes that Harry was still there. "Well I'd better be going," I told him before a sudden thought occured. "But, y'know, someone should tell Cedric about this. He's the only one who doesn't know."

"You're right," he said. "No worries, I'll tell him."

"Ace," I commented. "Well, g'night, Harry."

"'Night, Demetria."

No sooner had the words sprung from his mouth than did he bolt out from beyond the edge of the forest, as though he had somewhere to be at…well past midnight. And it seemed Harry wasn't the only one who had better places to be, for when I retraced my steps back to where I'd left the twins, they too were no longer in sight. Regardless, I saw my own way out of the Forbidden Forest, only to run into someone else though figuratively this time.

"Demetria!" said Karkaroff upon turning to face me. "Was that you?"

"Was what me, sir?" I asked him, genuinely confused. He couldn't have seen me sneaking off. He was fast asleep in his cabin, though apparently not anymore… Come to think of it, how long had he been up?

"I could have sworn I had just run into something…" Karkaroff continued to look around suspiciously at waist height.

It must have been Harry. "Oh right," I said, feigning forgetfulness. "Sorry, sir, that was me."

"Well then…Quite alright, Demetria," he assured with a small grin. "No damage done, after all. Now then, back to the ship." He merely shooed me off in hopes of continuing on to the forest, no doubt. Well, if he was willing to cheat…

"I was just in there, sir," I told him. Whether he was pretending not to comprehend or truly didn't, I was not aware. "The forest — I know what they're keeping in their for the task."

Karkaroff's eyes quickly swept across the area before he placed a hand on my shoulder and lead me toward the ship. He didn't speak until we'd reached the dock. "Now, what did you — ?"

"Dragons," The word sprang from my tongue almost instantly. "Four of them — one for each champion. We've got to get past them."

The cold, blue eyes of my headmaster remained unfazed, for clearly this was just as bad as he'd been expecting. Although that too wasn't even the case, given his almost amused response: "Oh, that was it?"

Was he mad?! "What d'you mean, 'that was it'?! They're dragons for Christ's sake!"

"Shhh, Demetria, calm yourself," he advised; I took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "All you really must do is blind the beast. I believe Professor Palenycky has taught you accordingly."

"Easier said than done, sir," I told him as we made our way up the plank and over the ship's railing.

"Only if you allow it to be," he insisted, making way for his cabin doors. "Sleep well, Demetria."

"You too, sir."

And so with that, I made my way below deck admist all of the snoring and moved as soundlessly as possible to the bunk I shared with Viktor, who was asleep on the bottom bunk. I climbed up to mine above, but upon removing my combat boots and laying my head on the pillow, I heard my name whispered in a Scottish accent which sent my body rocketing from the bed.

"Finn!" He sat upright in the top bunk parallel to mine and Viktor's. "You scared me half to death, mate."

"Sorry, Dem," he apologized. "Fred and George came by not too long ago and wanted me to tell you: 'sorry for leaving you, but we knew you'd find your way out'. Whatever that means."

But I didn't even thank him, didn't say goodnight, didn't acknowledge that I'd heard him at all really. For once my head hit that pillow once again, that time I was sound asleep almost instantly.

–

The rest of the week flew by, and I wasn't at all sure how to feel about it. On the one hand, I was almost glad to be getting it over and done with. But on the other hand, there was no gaurantee it would go as swimmingly as Karkaroff made it seem. But Sunday afternoon, my mixed emotions and I were woken up by Finn who continued to tell me I would be late if I didn't get to the champions' tent immediately. Naturally, I'd already told him and Viktor both about the dragons. Normally, I would have also informed Grigor but due to his current state of being an arsehole, one couldn't blame me for withholding such information.

My black combat boots had been laced up in blood red laces, courtesy of myself, and I'd been provided with a pair of tight brown pants which I'd tucked into my boots, and a tight, tan, long-sleeved shirt with the Durmstrang coat of arms printed on the front in red. The back held home to my last name strewn across my shoulders, also in scarlet lettering. Once I was dressed, I emerged from below deck to meet the clapping and cheers of all the blokes. And though seeming reluctant, even Grigor clapped along. Nearly everyone else wished me luck in some way as I passed through them on my way to the plank. But before I swung even one leg over the railing, Karkaroff stopped me.

"Dressed like a champion," he said proudly. "Good luck, Demetria," Before allowing me to go and saying to the blokes on the ship. "Who is our champion!?"

A thickly accented chorus of "HARRIS!" rang throughout the air.

"Who is our champion!?"

"HARRIS!"

And once more, before I'd made it on to the grounds and headed for the tent visible through the Forbidden Forest. Upon entering, I had already spotted Fleur seated on a stool in the corner appearing rather pale and clammy. She didn't even seem to notice me walk in, even with Ludo Bagman announcing my entrance. Cedric, on the other hand, ceased his pacing back and forth to greet me with a weary smile, but a smile nontheless.

"Demetria," he said. "How are you doing?"

"I'm…" I couldn't seem to label how I was feeling. "…indifferent," I told him with a shrug of my shoulders. "How're you?"

He, too, shrugged. "Bit nervous, but I'm… fine, I s'pose?" He seemed as unsure as I felt.

"I trust Harry's told you?"

Cedric nodded, his eyes then falling down to my shoes. A small smile found it's way across his face then. "I like the laces."

"I was feeling festive." I smiled back; Harry entered the tent.

"Harry! Good-o!" said Bagman happily. "Come in, come in, make yourself at home!" He did just that, sending a significant glance my way. "Well, now we're all here — time to fill you in! When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag," he held up said bag — a small sack of purple silk which he then shook at us. "from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different — er — varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too…ah, yes…your task is to collect the golden egg!"

Cedric nodded for the four of us before his face went slightly green and he began pacing once again. Fleur showed no reaction whatsoever and neither did Harry… Neither did I. But Cedric and Fleur had at least volunteered for this, whereas Harry and I were thrown in the lion's den against our will. Or well, more of a dragon's nest, if you will.

And then, sooner than we all would have liked, hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of feet could be heard passing the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking… Oh no, don't mind us. We're just practically pissing ourselves in here about to face a dragon. And speaking of, Bagman then opened the neck of the purple silk sack.

"Ladies first," he said, first offering it to Fleur.

I didn't wish the Hungarian Horntail upon anyone, not even Phlegm. But as she put a shaking hand inside the bag, she drew out nothing more than a tiny, perfect model of the Common Welsh Green with a number two around its neck. And judging by Fleur's complete lack of surprise, I'd been right in assuming Madame Maxime had told her what was in store.

Bagman then offered the bag to me, to which I drew a miniature Chinese Fireball with a number three strung around its neck. I didn't even blink, almost didn't even breathe. I just stared into the tiny dragon's eyes and it stared right back, only stretching its miniscule wings. If only the real thing were as calm as that ickle little guy.

I then looked to Cedric who had already pulled the Swedish Snort-Snout with a number one tied around its neck. And as Harry reached his hand into the bag next, we both knew before he pulled out a dragon which one it was going to be. Sure enough, a miniature Hungarian Horntail sat in the palm of Harry's hand, the number four draped around its neck.

"Well, there you are!" said Bagman. "You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now, I'm going to have to leave you in a moment, because I'm commentating. Mr. Diggory, you're first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right? Now…Harry…could I have a quick word? Outside?"

Harry agreed and the two departed from the tent, leaving the two other champions and I to stare at one another. Some form of fear or nervousness engulfed our eyes, but we weren't left alone for much longer. Just then, from somewhere, a whistle blew. My hand instinctively latched itself around Cedric's wrist, not only to calm him but to calm myself. That whistle practically Stunned my chest, my heart nearly leaping from it. Luckily, Cedric was significantly less green now, nodding his thanks to me as I released him and nodded my best wishes. As Harry re-entered the tent, Cedric emerged from it.

All we could do for the rest of the time was sit and listen. Listen to the crowd cheering or screaming, yelling or gasping at whatever it was Cedric was doing to get past the Swedish Short-Snout. Meanwhile though, Fleur seemed to have taken his place in pacing the tent, while Harry and I simply sat back and looked around. The only thing that made it all worse was Bagman's commentary. He'd say things like: "Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow" or "He's taking risks, this one!" or "Clever move — pity it didn't work!"

But finally after what felt like hours but was really only about fifteen minutes, there came the deafening roar from the crowd which could only mean one thing: Cedric had gotten past the dragon and captured the golden egg!

"Very good indeed!" Bagman was shouting. "And now the marks from the judges!" And though I would have liked him to, he didn't shout out the marks. "One down, three to go!" The whistle sounded once again, a new swarm of butterflies fluttering violently inside me. "Miss Delacour, if you please!"

Everything I felt on the inside, Fleur displayed outside. Her entire body was trembling from head to foot, and I felt a sudden empathy toward her for the first time. I wanted to wish her luck, but I couldn't find my voice and she'd already left the tent anyway. That just left Harry and I to sit and listen to more of Bagman's commentary: "Oh I'm not sure that was wise!" he shouted. "Oh…nearly! Careful now…good lord, I thought she'd had it then!"

Ten minutes later, the crowd errupted into applause once again, meaning Fleur must have also been successful. There was another pause as the marks were undoubtedly shown, followed by more clapping, and then much to my dismay…the third whistle.

"And here comes Miss Harris!" cried Bagman.

"Good luck, Demetria," Harry rushed out in a rather hoarse voice. I looked to him, nodded, and made my way out of the tent.

I wished the walk past the trees and through the gap in the enclosure fence could have been longer. I wished the panic rising in my chest would cease. But more than anything, I hoped this bloody dragon wouldn't kill me!

Emerging from the shadows of the trees, I was greeted by the cheers of hundreds and hundreds of faces staring down at me from the stands. But it was the other side of the enclosure which held my attention, for that was where the Chinese Fireball was crouched low over her clutch of eggs. This did not last long, however. With nothing but my wand in hand, I did what could only be looked upon as bloody stupid — I ran straight toward her. I figured Bagman was making some sort of comment about how risky this was, but somehow I managed to tune him out, and the audience for that matter. Either that, or I simply couldn't hear over the cry of the Fireball, which was even more earpiercing up close.

I was forced to skid to a stop off on the side of the enclosure, now so close to this beast that one breath of fire from her would surely fry me within seconds. In fact, she looked as though she was about to. And I'd been so panicked and caught up in dodging the flames, which I dove off to the side to do, that I'd nearly forgotten what Karkaroff had told me to do. My head seemed so much clearer now, as I got back to my feet and began scheming. I knew unless I wanted the golden egg — and all of the others — crushed, I had to lure the dragon away from her nest. Though I wasn't entirely sure how long I could keep up dancing around the mushroom shaped flame she hurled at me once again. Dodging that one had brought me to the center of the enclosure.

As though just remembering the ten-and-a-quarter inches of ash wood in my hand, I cast my first spell of the task. All I'd done so far was Transfigure a rock on the ground into a long enough rope before the Chinese Fireball had turned to whip me with her enormous tail. I seized the oppertunity, jumping as high as I possibly could while holding the ends of the rope, my wand quickly having been stowed away in the side of my right boot. The only problem with that was her tail was far larger than the height of my leap, so one of the spikes I hadn't even seen before jabbed me in the side and I was forced to hold on to it as she swung me up into the air by her tail.

All right, so my original plan of somehow magically Binding the dragon was out and I was far too busy holding on for dear life so that I wouldn't be sent flying to this dragon's bloody nesting grounds inChina to conjur up a new plan…but it wasn't over yet! She continued to try and shake me off and in doing so, she began to stray from her nest. All I had to do was speed up the process. I carefully released my right hand's grip on the spike and pulled my wand from my boot on the leg I'd nearly wrapped around the tail itself. Turning back, and still holding on as she attempted to throw me once again, I aimed my wand at her tail and called out, "Stupefy!"

I knew it wouldn't do any good to have just one person Stun a dragon, I'd seen that with my own eyes. But I'd accomplished what I wanted done, for the Chinese Fireball released almost a whimper of pain, lowered herself to the ground, and turned her head to send another mushroom shaped flame in my direction. I then unwrapped myself from her giant tail and fell to the ground flat on my back, a pain shooting down my spine. But I did my best to ignore it and get back to my feet, wand at the ready for when she turned back to face me. When she did, I sent the Conjunctivitis Curse at both of her eyes, the beast crying out in a horrible, roaring shriek.

Already back-tracking as fast as I could, I then turned back and ran toward the nest, knowing full-well that the dragon's eyes were swelling shut, temporarily blinding her. I could fell her teetering in the earth beneath me, but I never stopped running until I'd reached the nest which held home to numerous crimson eggs speckled with gold, but my interest was only in the one I grabbed and held in my hands — the golden egg.

The crowd around me errupted in such a thunderous applause that it nearly scared me. I'd almost forgotten they were all watching, but they seemed to make up for it with their deafening cheers. I took a look around and saw the dragon keepers rushing to subdue the Chinese Fireball and I finally almost seemed to turn the volume back up on Ludo Bagman's commentary.

"Well would you look at that!" he yelled. "One of our two youngest champions has managed the quickest time…so far!"

I looked over toward the entrance of the enclosure and saw a tall and rather relieved looking witch making her way over to me. It was the same professor who'd put Snape in his place when Harry and I were first chosen as champions.

"Excellent job, Miss Harris!" she praised before pointing out of the enclosure. "You may wish to visit the first aid tent, however. That was a rather severe fall you took."

Nodding, I made my way out of the enclosure and continued on until I came to an older witch in nurse attire. Having been too hopped up on adrenaline, I failed to notice the pain still shooting down my spine and the aching in my side where I kept the golden egg close. The witch stood eager to help at the mouth of a second tent, looking to me with worry.

"Madam Pomfrey, dearie," she introduced, rushing me inside.

Entering the tent, I found it to be divided into cubicles and I could even make out Cedric's shadow through the canvas of one. Whatever he'd done, it clearly hadn't injured him too badly; he was sitting up at least. Madam Pomfrey examined my own injuries, starting with my side. She lifted my shirt enough to reveal a rather ghastly bruise, but surprisingly no skin was broken.

"Don't worry, it's not nearly as bad as it looks," she assured, dabbing it with some purple liquid that smoked and stung. But she then poked it with her wand and the bruise was almost completely healed, reduced to nothing more than a minor black and blue. "Now let's see that back of yours."

She moved around where I stood and lifted my shirt from the back, revealing my dark blue bra. But I wasn't worried what with Cedric behind the canvas and no one else around. Well, no one else was around until…

"Demi, that was positively brill — !" Finn came running in to say, along with Viktor and the twins.

"And to think we almost missed this show for Harry's!" said Fred to his brother, the two high-fiving. Finn and Viktor looked away uncomfortably.

"Oh honestly, you two!" I hissed. "Avert your eyes! Or at least be discrete about it…like Finn's trying to do." I caught those sea-green orbs shifting my way only to shoot back down to the ground upon my noticing. However, as soon as Madam Pomfrey had tapped her wand to my spine, it felt good as new, almost as though it re-aligned.

"There you are, Miss Harris, good as new," she said, already rushing off to Cedric's cubicle. "You and your friends may check your score!"

Unrolling my shirt so it covered my torso once again, I smacked Fred and George both upside the head so those googly eyes of their's would return to their sockets. Finn and Viktor, amused by this, followed me out of the tent before the twins did. We'd all barely managed to exit the tent before running into Grigor. He was pale as a ghost and completely speechless for a moment. Could it have been the moment I'd been waiting for? Sure enough, though still without a word, Grigor wrapped me up in his embrace and I returned the affection.

"Demetria," he said seriously when we'd pulled away. "I am so sorry! I had thought — but now I see —"

"It's all right, Grig," I assured him, laughing a bit at his blundering. "Just glad to be alive."

Alive. Hey…I was alive! I'd just faced a Chinese Fireball…and lived! I'd made it through the first task!

"That vas amazing though, Dem," praised Grigor. "Better you out there than me anyvay. I do not think I could take on a dragon."

"Speaking of," George chimed in. "I reckon they'll be putting up your scores."

So with the golden egg back in my hands, the six of us made our way to the edge of the enclosure. From there, I could see where the five judges were seated right at the other end in raised seats draped in gold.

"The marks are from vun to ten," Viktor told me as we watched the first judge — Madame Maxime — raise her wand into the air. What looked to be a long silver ribbon shot from it and twisted itself into a seven.

"Probably only because Fleur's been speaking ill of you," said Finn bitterly.

"That or she simply didn't approve of my landing," I joked.

"That must be it," agreed Fred. "Not graceful enough."

"She is all style points!" Grigor called out rather indignantly. "Pay her no mind, Demetria." And I didn't. Madame Maxime's score was the last thing on my mind. I was just so thrilled to have Grigor back on my side.

Mr. Crouch was next, shooting a number eight into the air, followed by Dumbledore and then Ludo Bagman who both put up a nine.

"That is more like it," said Viktor from beside me.

And finally from Karkaroff — I couldn't say I was surprised as I'm sure Viktor, Finn, and Grigor weren't either — a ten.

"That puts you in the lead, love!" said George excitedly.

Just then, the fourth and final whistle blew. It was Harry's turn. In all of the excitement, I'd completely forgotten Harry still had yet to face his dragon. He was still feeling the fear and the anxiety, wondering if he would even make it out alive. Fred and George hurried back to their spots in the stand and the judges were suddenly blocked by the Hungarian Horntail. Viktor and Grigor returned to their spots as well, but Finn stayed back with me by the first aid tent, for I wasn't really up for dealing with the noises of the crowd…or the dragon.

"You could've gone on, Finn," I told him. "I'll be fine."

"No shite, I just saw you take on a bleeding dragon," he said, still in awe over it. "But if I go, who's gonna tell you how your favorite Hufflepuff and your least favorite half-veela did?"

So as Finn had told me, apparently Cedric did a bit of Transfiguring of his own, however his was successful…or well, more so than mine. He too Transfigured a rock on the ground, but to a dog in hopes of distracting the dragon. It worked, for Cedric was able to retrieve the egg, but evidently the dragon changed its mind halfway through and decided it wanted Cedric rather than the Labrador, hence Cedric's burns and need of first aid.

Fleur, on the other hand, used a charm to put her dragon in a sort of trance. Apparently, that sort of worked too, until it snored and a great jet of flame shot out, Fleur's skirt catching on fire. Though she was able to put it out with some water from her wand.

Pretty soon, Harry was making his way up toward the first aid tent, panting and with the golden egg in his hands.

"Harry!" I called out. "What'd you do?"

Before Madam Pomfrey had ushered him inside the tent, he looked to me and rushed out the words, "I flew!"

"Flying!" I said, slapping my palm against my forehead. "Why the bloody hell didn't I think of that? My father was a Quidditch star for Godric's sake!"

"And so are you!" Finn said, just as upset with himself that he hadn't thought of flying. But just as the two of us were about to depart for the ship, Ludo Bagman called out my name.

"I wondered if you might gather the boys and meet me back in the champions' tent?" he said. "Fleur is already waiting."

He walked off toward the tent himself after I'd nodded in agreement. And so ducking my head into the first aid tent, I said to Cedric who finally emerged from behind the canvas. "Ced, you and Harry come down to the champions' tent when you're ready."

"All right." He smiled, one side of his face covered in a thick orange paste. "Nice job out there, by the way."

"Same to you," I told him with a grin of my own. And parting ways with Finn, I made my own way to the tent where I stood in relative silence with Fleur and Bagman. Though it wasn't much longer until Harry and Cedric both entered the tent, grinning.

"Congratulations on first place, Demetria," said Harry.

"First place?" I echoed. "Are you mad? How did I — ?"

"No need to be modest, Demetria!" Bagman insisted. "Barely a scratch on you, you've earned it! And well done, all of you! Now, just a few quick words. You've got a nice long break before the second task, which will take place at half past nine on the morning of February the twenty-fourth — but we're giving you something to think about in the meantime! If you look down at those golden eggs you're all holding, you will see that they open…see the hinges there? You need to solve the clue inside the egg — because it will tell you what the second task is, and enable you to prepare for it! All clear? Sure? Well off you go, then!"

I swore that Ludo Bagman was as mad as a hatter… But regardless, the other champions and I all left the tent and I myself rejoined Viktor, Grigor, and Finn as we all began making our way back to the ship.