Some recognisable content directly from Goblet of Fire
The invisibility cloak had been a stroke of brilliance of Harry's; under the cloak he was able to use a cane. He knew it would be covered by the overhang (one of the few advantages to being short) and he could navigate a little better on his own. They made it all the way to Hogsmeade and through Honeyduke's before Hermione started to voice her dissent.
"Come on, please just take off your cloak for a bit. No one's going to bother you here."
He'd paused, folding up his cane in defeat and ready to pull the cloak in until he heard the distinct voice of Rita Skeeter. He remembered the sharpness of her nails (talons) digging into his arm as she led him away for that disastrous interview; he dropped the cloak again.
"Oh yeah?" he hissed quietly, "look behind you."
Hermione twisted her head and backed up a few steps, whirling around to inspect whatever was displayed in the window of Honeyduke's. Harry followed her, glad he had when whatever Skeeter was carrying on her arm swung right through his former position.
"She's staying in the village. I bet she's coming to watch the first task," Harry immediately regretted voicing anything to do with his current… predicament. He could have sworn his blood ran cold for a moment before he could refocus on the present.
Hermione turned to peer through him after Skeeter. "She's gone."
He nearly snorted but held back his amusement; she clearly was a bit frayed from the situation and Harry decided he'd let it go for now. As if he would've made a peep if that reporter had been within earshot.
"Why don't we go and have a Butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks. It's a bit cold, isn't it? You don't have to talk to Ron!" she continued, misinterpreting his struggle not to laugh.
Harry stiffened; Ron wasn't even a possibility he'd considered in the Three Broomsticks. He had the cloak still but unlike Skeeter, Ron knew all about that. Might even have expected it…
Trying to reach the table Hermione had spotted (just go towards the corner), he heard Ron's voice amongst the crowd as well as the familiar pattern of the twins' speech but resisted the urge to get a closer look. It was hard to tell whether the crowd was helping or hindering him; they would usually blame some other pub goer but anyone with a good view that paid attention would probably notice something off. It was with great relief that he flopped down at the table.
It must've taken longer than he thought because less than ten seconds later, Hermione joined him. She slipped him a Butterbeer under his cloak.
"I look like such an idiot, sitting her on my own," she muttered. "Lucky I brought something to do."
They sat in silence while Hermione retrieved a notebook; he couldn't recognise anything more than the fact that it was probably writing scrawled across the page.
"You know, maybe I should try and get some of the villagers involved in S.P.E.W.," Hermione said thoughtfully.
Ah, that would be the notebook then. He swallowed another laugh at the thought of his 'secretary duties' to Hermione's Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare (possibly the least attractive name in its acronym form she could have imagined).
"Yeah, right," said Harry. He took a swig of Butterbeer under his cloak. "Hermione, when are you going to give up on this S.P.E.W. stuff?"
"When house-elves have decent wages and working conditions!" she hissed back. "You know, I'm starting to think it's time for more direct action. I wonder how you get into the school kitchens
"No idea, ask Fred and George," said Harry.
Hermione lapsed into thoughtful silence, while Harry drank his Butterbeer and tried to pinpoint familiar voices in the crowded pub. Ernie Macmillan's loud pompous voice was all he could recognise in the din, saying something about having Circe already and complaining about Ravenclaws leaving the door open.
The laughter and chatter all swirled into one around him; what he wouldn't give to be just another Hogwarts student enjoying the weekend. He wouldn't have to be wearing his cloak, Ron would've been by his side speculating on what fantastic trial the three champions would have to face on Tuesday… Maybe he would have even been able to tell them about his eyes. He downed the last of his Butterbeer.
At least tonight he would be able to speak with Sirius, he wondered if he should tell his godfather everything or whether it would only make him worry more. Harry thought that the man might burst into the castle as soon as physically possible if he knew and whisk him away from school forever; he chuckled at the image that formed in his mind.
"Look, it's Hagrid!" said Hermione, snapping him out of his thoughts.
Harry scanned over the heads of the crowd; Hagrid was probably the only person he had never had trouble spotting in a crowd. He wondered why he hadn't spotted him immediately, standing to try and see better automatically. Somehow though (perhaps he was hallucinating) Hagrid was heading over to their table with another person in tow.
"All right, Hermione?" he boomed on approach.
"Hello," she replied happily.
He now recognised Hagrid's companion as Mad Eye Moody; Hogwarts' newest professor very shortly before he found the man within inches of his face (his breath held a familiar whiff to it, but it was only faint…). "Nice cloak, Potter."
His breath hitched as he stared at the man, able to hear the quiet whirring of the man's prosthetic eye. A magical prosthetic (Ron had told him, before Halloween) that could see well beyond human capacity and, apparently, through invisibility cloaks.
"Can your eye – I mean, can you-?"
"Yeah, it can see through Invisibility Cloaks," Moody growled quietly. "And it's come in useful at times, I can tell you."
Hagrid leaned down towards Hermione and whispered quietly, "Harry, meet me tonight at midnight at me cabin. Wear that cloak."
The huge man straightened back up. "Nice ter see yeh, Hermione," he said loudly, and departed. Moody followed him.
"Why does Hagrid want me to meet him at midnight?" Harry said, very surprised.
"Does he? I wonder what he's up to? I don't know whether you should go, Harry…" she leaned closer. "It might make you late for Sirius."
Harry didn't respond, thinking it over; Hagrid's request was too abnormal for him to ignore. It was a pretty unusual request from Hagrid and Harry's curiosity got the better of him.
And so he found himself creeping down the lawns, wary of any pitfalls on the way. Hagrid was already outside holding a lantern, when Harry made him aware of his presence he was shushed and they made their way, oddly enough to the Beauxbatons carriage. Hagrid knocked and the headmistress, Madame Maxime, answered.
"Ah, 'Agrid… is it time?"
"Bong-sewer," Hagrid replied (Harry had to cover a snort).
They set off around the paddocks and Harry followed the huge pair, wondering what exactly he was there for. After a little while, Madame Maxime paused, "where is it you are taking me, 'Agrid?"
"Yeh'll enjoy this," replied Hagrid, still walking. "Worth seein', trust me, on'y - don't go tellin' anyone I showed yeh, right? Yeh're not s'posed ter know."
"Of course not," Madame Maxime replied in the same voice his aunt used when they had important guests over.
As they continued on, Harry began to wonder if he was going to miss his meeting with Sirius… he would normally cast a readout of the time but there was no way he wouldn't be immediately found out. For a moment he considered trying to return to the castle on his own but his thoughts were cut off by a long roar nearby (they must have passed through a silencing spell). It sounded as though it belonged in that new dinosaur movie Dudley had gone to see that summer. He could also hear people shouting beneath the faint ringing in his ears.
They rounded a corner through a clump of trees and Harry, puzzled, stopped next to Hagrid to stare up at the bright streams cutting through the dark night sky. He recognised several large fires on the ground as well as several small torches scattered about the... enclosure? There were several large shapes shooting up into the sky, beyond Harry's field of vision and the sound of heavy chains rattled around the area.
"Keep back there, Hagrid!" a man near the fence warned, yelling over a strange wailing screech from above. "They can shoot fire at a range of twenty feet, you know! I've seen this Horntail do forty!"
Hagrid said something in reply but Harry was too focused on staying conscious as the pieces fell into place; how could they set up dragons for school kids to face! Dozens of red stunning spells shot in the general direction of the wailing, briefly lighting up a fearsome beast at least fifty feet above them; the dragon soon slammed down to rest beside a particularly large bonfire.
He followed Hagrid and Maxime up to the fence where a man jogged over to them.
"All right, Hagrid?" he panted in a vaguely familiar voice. "They should be okay now — we put them out with a Sleeping Draft on the way here, thought 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..."
Hagrid, who had always expressed a very strong fondness for dragons, seemed thoroughly focused on the closest one. "What breeds you got here, Charlie?"
"This is a Hungarian Horntail," said the man Harry now recognised as Charlie Weasley. "There's a Common Welsh Green over there, the smaller one - a Swedish Short-Snout, that blue-gray — and a Chinese Fireball, that's the red."
Harry studied the Horntail; it had a bulky shape and he could make out a fringe of large spikes on its neck towards what was probably its head against the grow of the bonfire.
Madame Maxime had wandered off away from Hagrid. "I didn't know you were bringing her, Hagrid," Charlie said uncertainly. "The champions aren't supposed to know what's coming - she's bound to tell her student, isn't she?"
"Jus' thought she'd like ter see 'em," shrugged Hagrid, barely paying attention.
"Really romantic date, Hagrid," said Charlie with a laugh.
"Four . . ." said Hagrid, "so it's one fer each o' the champions, is it? What've they gotta do — fight 'em?"
"Just get past them, I think," said Charlie. "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."
Harry looked to the other end of the dragon, shrouded in darkness (although with a name like Horntail it was hardly a mystery, still he would have like to have seen it). Finally, he decided he'd gotten the most out of this little trip and backed up, before turning back towards the castle.
He followed the treeline for barely two minutes before he collided with something- someone. After much vocal confusion from Durmstrang's Headmaster (and absolute terror on Harry's part), Karkaroff must've decided his mission was more important than whatever he ran into and scurried off to the dragon enclosure. Harry felt bad for Cedric who would likely be the only champion by tomorrow morning who didn't know about the first task.
Harry didn't sleep the rest of the morning; angry at himself for interrupting Sirius'potentially lifesaving dragon countermeasures to complain about his eyes. He was even angrier at Ron for interrupting that (even though he couldn't have known) and now he finally knew what those damn Christmas lights were that half the school had donned. He was just...angry.
In hindsight Harry wondered how on Earth he made it through the hazy panic between that night and the First task; after a little nudge from Moody he had reluctantly recruited Hermione to help him with the summoning charm. His biggest hurdle was getting over his fear of objects flying towards him (he still aimed a bit lower than average).
On the way down to the enclosure with Professor McGonagall he felt as if he were floating high above. The sun was bright and the world around him seemed an unusually high-colour blur of blue sky and green grass. His head of house left at the tent with weakly spoken instructions.
Probably his last dragon-free hour.
Notes
So I don't know if anyone would be super invested in this story but here's chapter 2, I have the 3rd written as well but I might read it over a bit more before posting it.
It's a bit difficult trying to keep Harry's vision consistent without being able to view all the stuff that he does myself (I'm not visually impaired myself, I simulate 'Harry's' vision by unfocusing my eyes) but also it isn't at a totally consistent level, the reasoning isn't SUPER hard to guess but I'll keep it to myself for now
~ LQD