A/N: First of all, I would like to apologize for taking so damn long to write an update. It's been awhile, guys. And for that, I'm so sorry. I was dealing with a lot of medical and personal issues and eventually lost the energy to continue this story.

But have no fear! I have a lot of time on my hands now that I'm essentially done with all of my high school obligations. And this fic, no matter how long it takes for me to pump out an update, will never be abandoned. I'm too invested in the story and I love the characters too much to just let it go.

So without further ado, the latest update! It's the longest chapter I've written, so let me know what you think! Hope you guys enjoy it!

If Brook had known just how cold Scottish mornings were, she would have packed more hoodies to wear. She couldn't just keep wearing the same one every morning she trained with Harry, and early mornings at Hogwarts were definitely nowhere close to t-shirt weather. Each breath she inhaled burned her throat; the frigid winds stinging her already numb cheeks. It wasn't quite winter yet as they were just a week away from November, but the icy chills shot daggers into her bones, aching even beneath the skin. When she spent enough time in the cold, she managed to retain enough body heat to feel 'loose', but for the first couple of miles, her stiff joints felt like the reincarnation of the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz. Brook and Harry were three miles into their six-mile morning 'warm up' jog as Brook called it, with Harry just a step and a half behind the heiress.

"Listen, Brooklyn," Harry huffed in between strides. His usual Quidditch practices didn't call for extreme amounts of cardio. However, he was keeping up just based on his natural athletic ability. At first, The Boy Who Lived lagged more than a few paces behind Brook, his stomach burning feverishly near the first mile mark, but over time, his endurance improved as his body adjusted to the increased physical exertion. "Is a six mile run every morning really necessary for the tournament?"

Glancing back towards Harry, she shot him a disapproving look, a slight frown etched on her face. "Of course it is. The physical aspect should be something that we shouldn't have to worry about, like a baseline. Plus, it's good for your overall conditioning for sports and health."

"Says the one who stuffed her face with three chocolate covered pastries before we got out here," Harry teased with a smirk. Ever since the first week that he had met Brook, the heiress' love for pastries was clearly evident, only rivaled by her love of coffee. She never left a meal without a couple tucked into her bag for later.

"Well, that's different." Brook defended herself indignantly.

"Oh yeah? How so?"

"I'm faster than you."

Harry took the moment to shoot forward, darting ahead of Brook to her left, leaving her in his dust. "We'll see about that! See you at the lake!" He called behind.

"That sonofabitch," Brook muttered under her breath, chasing after Harry. She forced her sore thighs to work double time as she sprinted to catch up to the Gryffindor who was already a couple yards in front, his uncombed hair flopping wildly with each stride.

It was a close affair; way tighter than Brook had expected. It took her a better part of the next mile to catch up with Harry, who exhibited no signs of slowing down. The two were extremely competitive in nature, and it showed in the glint in their eyes and their gritted teeth. Neither one was prepared to give ground any time soon. Their lungs burned, begging for rest and air, but they pushed on, not wanting to be the first one to give up and retire.

By the final 100 yards, Harry's lack of conditioning during the summer caught up with him as Brook edged out in front for the hard fought victory. At the end of the impromptu race, the two champions collapsed on beach, not caring if the sand leaked into their clothes. They were breathing hard, their legs refusing to move.

"Let's..." Brook was still catching her breath. "Let's take a break."

"Wonderful idea."

After a prolonged water break back at the Great Hall, they dragged themselves back out to shores of the Great Lake for more training.

"So," Harry started. "Since we have no idea what the first task will be, how do we go about actually preparing for it?"

"Expanding our magical repertoire is a good place to start." Brook reasoned. "If we have a vast amount of spells and charms to use against whatever we'll face, then I figure that's the only possible way we can prepare for it. Apart from, you know, actually figuring out what the first task is. But we can assume that it'll be designed to stretch our magical knowledge and ability, so we can go from there." After observing her impressive display during the Ilvermorny introduction, Harry had no doubt that Brook was more than a capable witch. Just from the 30 seconds he had seen, he noticed the raw magical power that resided in the heiress. Conjuring and gracefully controlling Fiendfyre was practically unheard of for a student, even in small amounts. Attempts from inexperienced wielders could yield disastrous results, ranging from self-inflicted burns to the destruction of an entire building. It was an incredibly fickle and powerful spell, requiring an immense amount of concentration and magical ability. It was clear that Brook had both.

"I'm not too familiar with Hogwarts' curriculum in the past years. Is there anything that pops out from your Defense Against the Dark Arts classes that might be useful?"

"No, I'm afraid not." Harry winced, recalling the revolving door of teachers who had assumed the post with incomplete lesson plans, only to resign by the end of the school year. In Harry's first three years at Hogwarts, Professor Lupin was clearly the most 'teacher-esque' and effective of the bunch, but considering the other candidates, that wasn't saying much. "We haven't had the best teachers in the last couple of years."

"That's," Brook ran her fingers through her raven locks, taking in a slight breath, shifting her weight from her right to her left. "That's fine, I guess. We still have time to learn some new spells." I hope. This was going to be tougher than Brook had originally thought. Harry was an extremely talented wizard, naturally gifted, in fact, but he lacked the knowledge of advanced magic that the other, more notably older, champions had. That was a problem. She would need to catch him up fast or find some other way to level the playing field. Until they have a clearer picture of what the first task actually entails, running Harry through a spells crash course was going to be their best option at this point.

The Ministry's strict "no magic outside Hogwarts" policy was sensible, for the most part. They can't have inexperienced witches and wizards running amuck, eager to try out all they had learned in the 'real world', causing mayhem and possibly exposing themselves to muggles. It was for their own safety. But safety be damned, this was one of the reasons why Hogwarts students have generally lagged behind their international counterparts for the last decade in worldwide assessments. In Brook's mind, a huge part of magical development was completed outside of school, outside of carefully designed curriculum, and outside of clearly laid out textbooks. Her own improvement stemmed from the struggle in attempting to figure out the intricacies of spell casting: practicing the exact, precise wand movements, improving magical endurance, controlling and focusing her wandless magic, and researching the uncommon spells that weren't the curriculum. Despite her natural talent for magic, the countless, arduous hours spent in the training room in Wayne Manor sculpted her into the witch that she was. Without practice, the talent would've been wasted. Instead of leaving her development solely in the hands of the Ilvermorny faculty, she decided to take matters into her own hands, spending many sleepless nights reading anything and everything that would help her gain an advantage. Waynes don't leave things to chance, her father would say.

"What did you have in mind?" Harry inquired, drawing his wand from his shorts pocket. He was undoubtedly tired from the morning conditioning, but he was eager to get started on the magical aspects of his training. His eyes still had that sparkle at the prospect of new magic. Magic had captured his heart four years ago and it hadn't let go since.

"Have you ever flown without your broom, Harry?"

"No, I don't believe so. I didn't think that was possible." Brook pulled her own wand out from her holster, giving it a twirl before responding.

"In magic, I think it's harder to find something that is impossible." Harry shrugged. "Anyways, I guess it's not exactly flying and more of shooting up into the air. It isn't done for the obvious safety concerns, but I think for our purposes, it could be useful. Ready?"

"Ready." Harry's eyes narrowed just slightly in concentration. His grip on his wand tightened.

"You're going to point your wand up at the sky and say ascendio. Give it a try."

"Ascendio." The Gryffindor did as he was told and was immediately launched a couple feet into the air, his limbs flailing wildly. Not before long, he was rushing back towards the ground with surprising speed. Harry winced, preparing for the impact.

"Arresto Momentum!" Instead of the crash that he was expecting, Harry gently landed on the ground without as much as a scratch or bruise. His glasses were askew, barely latching on to his face. His hair was an even bigger mess than it had been before.

"Thanks." He took Brook's offered hand and dusted off his pants. "Let's go again."

Unless she was helping her friends with their homework in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione absolutely despised interruptions while reading. Especially when she was all cozied up in her usual spot with the fireplace roaring and a blanket draped over her lap. But lately, for some reason she couldn't place, she had started to mind it less and less.

"Hey Hermione, mind if we join you?" Hermione looked up, placing her finger on the page to keep track of her progress. Her eyes fell upon the ever positive redhead, waiting expectantly, and the heiress who was carrying a load of books herself and was choosing to stay silent.

"Oh, no. Of course not, go right ahead," she replied gesturing to the couch across the coffee table from hers. Brook set the books down on the table with a rather loud thud, which earned her a glare and a shushing from Madam Pince. She plucked the top two books from the top of the pile and handed one to her best friend who had already made herself comfortable on the couch. When Brook plopped on to the couch, Alexis, scanning the pages of the book that Fleur had given her, extended her legs and laid them on Brook's lap. If she minded it, she showed no traces of annoyance and made no effort to move the redhead.

"How was the training session with Harry, Brooklyn?" Hermione inquired, closing the book now to give Brook her full attention. Brook almost seemed surprised at her question, jumping slightly in her seat. She tore her eyes from the book she had just opened and forced herself to maintain eye contact with the lioness. The words dragged in her throat.

"It, it was good. We tried some new spells today. I think he's really starting to get the hang of it." She trailed off, words hanging in the air. Hermione, always the perceptive one, sensed that there was more than she was letting on.

"But?"

"But we can't do much until we know what we're going up against." A sigh escaped her lips and her shoulders slouched just slightly. She gestured to her stack of books, filled with post-it notes threatening to spill out. "The tournament hasn't been done in centuries, so there isn't much for us to go on."

Hermione opened her book once more, rummaging through the pages of Hogwarts: A History. "I might be able to help you with that."

That got the attentions of both Brook and Alexis. They leaned closer in their seats with Alexis sitting upright now.

"In Hogwarts: A History, there's a chapter covering the Triwizard Tournament and its founding quite extensively, since the inaugural tournament took place here." Hermione stopped at a certain page. "And it turns out, that the first modern iteration of the tournament occurred simultaneously with the British wizarding world's first attempt at diplomacy with the muggle government. To host an event like the Triwizard Tournament, the wizards and witches needed quite a bit of equipment and creatures imported from other countries. And this concerned the muggle ministry because well, obviously, large amounts of imports from a foreign country, magic or otherwise, are of interest to the British government, lest a conflict arise from a commercial misunderstanding between wizards and muggles. So, in order to rectify this problem, the two ministries compromised and agreed to alert the other office if they were expecting a shipment of a "significant payload" within British boundaries. Which means…"

Brook immediately picked up the trail. "Which means that there must be an official ledger on the Parliamentary servers! Holy shit, Hermione you're a genius!" And with that, Brook popped up and sprinted out of the library in a hurry, leaving Hermione and Alexis in the dust.

"You know, I keep telling her to stop doing that," Alexis said.

"Run off like that?"

"Yeah. Whenever she has an idea and gets fixated on something, boom." Alexis snapped her fingers. "Off she goes, and you might be lucky if she comes out of her research for days. Sometimes, she forgets to eat, which is amazing considering how much that girl lives for pastries."

"So, where did she leave to now?"

"The smart money is that she's holing up in her room, digging through god knows what."

"Shall we, then?" Hermione asked, offering up a hand to help the redhead up from her seat.

"We shall," Alexis replied, gladly taking the offered hand. "Let's go find our wonder girl before she burns herself out."

When Hermione and Alexis reached the open doors to Brook's room in the Ilvermorny dorms, they found the heiress hunched over a keyboard on her desk, typing and clicking furiously. Not only that, an entire section of the wall had transformed itself into a gigantic, interconnected display. Hermione stood in the doorway, slack jawed, but Alexis merely shrugged it off, as if it was an everyday occurrence.

So much to know about these Americans, Hermione thought to herself.

"Brook, mind giving us some context into what you're diving into there?" Alexis asked, plopping down Brook's bed.

"Close the doors on your way in." She replied curtly.

That shook Hermione out of her reverie, and the witch complied with the request, stepping into the room and closing the doors as she entered. Brook's eyes never left the display, her entire focus shifted on to the task at hand. It was a bit odd for Hermione, seeing someone so engrossed in their work like she got many times during her schoolwork. It reminded of her in many ways, but this burst of energy, this unbridled determination and efficiency, was something to be admired, even for someone of Hermione's capabilities.

Perhaps that's what the boys see when I work in the library. It was a bit intimidating, to be sure. Not because Hermione felt threatened by her work ethic and intelligence, no no, far from it. It just showed her how much Brook is capable of; how much she didn't know about her.

"If there really is a ledger, then the British ministry must have official records of it somewhere." Brook explained, somehow typing even faster.

Hopping up from the bed, Alexis bounded over to the desk, leaning on the edge.

"So, what you're trying to say is that you are hacking into the servers of a foreign government?"

"You make it sound so clandestine."

Alexis scoffed. "Isn't it?"

"Well, don't you wanna know?"

A pause. "Fair point," Alexis leaned in. "What have you found so far?"

"Wait, hold on," Hermione interrupted, creeping slowly towards the desk, eyeing the information and code that zipped across the displays. "You can just hack the British ministry? Just like that?"

"Why, Miss Granger?" Brook stopped her typing and turned to face the brunette, sporting a wicked grin. "Do you doubt my abilities?"

"No, it's just surprising, that's all. I can't fathom how powerful that computer of yours must be. How did you install that in the dorms, anyway?"

"A blending of magic and technology." And there she went, back to her typing. "I've bypassed all the encryption necessary, it's just a matter of time before the program picks up a list of any "unusual" imports in the last week." Just in time, an alert pinged from the center of the display, notifying the group that the search inquiry was complete.

A single entry turned up: A series of large shipments originating from Bulgaria.

"Dragons," the three of them breathed out in unison.

Bloody hell. Dragons? Really? I knew the tournament was dangerous, but dragons? Seriously? What was Dumbledore even thinking?

"I've-" Alexis's face was drained of color. "I gotta tell Fleur." She rushed towards the doors and yanked them open, but not before telling Brook: "Team meeting. Five minutes. Right here. Be right back." And with that, she burst out the room.

Brook leaned back in her seat and let out a groan. "Not another one."

Hermione raised her eyebrow. "Another one?"

"Yeah back at Ilvermorny, when Lex, sorry- Alexis something important she wanted to talk to me about, she'd call these team meeting and we'd meet up and have a serious talk or whatever. Which was stupid considering two people don't necessarily make a team. But she insisted on calling it 'team meetings.'"

"Well, now you do have a team."

"If you say so."

"I need to go and find Harry."

"Of course."

"Five minutes?"

A nod.

"Five minutes."

Then, Brook was left alone, but not for long. Merely three minutes after she had left, Alexis somehow managed to trek all the way out to the Beauxbatons carriage and drag Fleur out to the Ilvermorny dorms.

"Mon Coeur, you still haven't told me what has brought you so much trouble."

"Not yet. Not until Harry gets here."

"Very well. I will wait until the young mister Potter makes an entrance." Meanwhile, Fleur looked around the room appraisingly. "Is this your room, Mademoiselle Wayne?"

"Just Brooklyn is fine. And yes it is. There a problem?"

"Non. Curious, that's all." Alexis looked as if she wanted to intervene, but was interrupted by the arrival of Harry and Hermione.

"Now, can we start?" Fleur asked, poking her girlfriend in her side, causing her to giggle.

"Yes. Brook?"

"We figured out what the first task is. It's-"

"Dragons." Harry and Fleur answered at the same time.

Hermione quickly turned to her best friend in confusion.

"Wait, you knew?"

"And you too?" Alexis asked of Fleur.

"Ron felt guilty about being a prat, so he showed me where they are keeping the dragons. Since his brother is a dragon keeper and all that." Harry explained.

"And you didn't think to inform me about this development?" Hermione inquired.

"Well, you were busy! With your books!" Harry defended himself, albeit not very well.

Hermione let out a scoff and crossed her arms over her chest, unsatisfied with his answer. The group's attention then turned to Fleur.

"Madame Maxine informed me of the news this morning."

"Isn't that against the rules?" Brook asked, a sly smile forming on her lips. So, that's how the games were going to operate.

"I'm tempted to ask how you received your information, Brooklyn."

The heiress barked out a laugh.

"Fair enough."

"So… I guess this team meeting was for nothing then." Alexis deflated, shoulders slumping slightly.

"Well, not completely for nothing, chérie. I got to see you again," Fleur flashed her a brilliant smile. The type that warmed every inch of Alexis's body and never failed to cause her heart to sputter out of control.

"Ugh, really? Not in my room please?" Brook rolled her eyes, pretending to gag.

"I think that is my cue to leave. I'll see you all tomorrow." After a quick peck on her girlfriend's cheek, the veela left the room with an astounding grace for such a late hour.

"See you at breakfast?" Hermione asked the two Americans.

"Maybe. Harry, I fully expect to see you at the Great Lake at six. No later."

"Merlin have mercy."

Day of the First Task.

The Champions' waiting area was busy and frantic, buzzing with pre-game activities. Madame Maxine was fussing over Fleur, reminding her of various tactics and strategies that she would have to employ. Karakoff was shouting god knows what in Krum's ear, presumably hyping him up for the day's event. Meanwhile, Harry was bombarded with Hermione's constant stream of advice, worries, and whatever came to her mind. Ron interjected with an occasional quip here and there. Brook was sitting quietly, twirling her wand in her fingers. Alexis sat right next to her, offering comfort through her presence alone.

Not soon after, it was time for the dragons to be picked out and all visitors had to leave. Even headmasters. Before she left, Alexis squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"Just a sec, I need to talk to Fleur beforehand."

The redhead walked with determined strides over to the French veela who somehow managed to look as radiant as ever, even in her battle gear. Fleur noticed her approach and met her halfway.

"Mon ange, you look so troubled. Are you feeling okay?"

"Me? What about you? You're the one that has to fight a fire breathing dragon in a couple minutes!"

"I'll be perfectly fine, chérie. I promise. Plus, I have you and Gabrielle to come back to."

"Promise that you won't be a hero?"

"Promise." Alexis then took the opportunity to wrap the veela in a fierce, bone crushing hug. "Just stay safe," she whispered in her ear.

When they pulled away, neither of them were willing to move, relishing the fleeting moment. Fleur chuckled lowly.

"Why are you looking at my face like you are trying to memorize it?"

"Because," Alexis took a half-step forward, cupping Fleur cheek. "I really want to kiss you right now."

Fleur was taken aback.

"Al—Alex, did you get a chance to read the-"

"Oh screw the damn book, Fleur. I've read the whole thing!" And with that, Alexis surged forward and brought Fleur's lips to her own in a bruising kiss. The French champion didn't react for a full second in surprise. It was also the most terrifying second of Alexis's life. Once Fleur's brain caught up with what was currently happening, she responded in kind, lips moving melodiously in sync with one another. It was hard and desperate, and Alexis tried her best to convey her emotions into the kiss. Fear, adoration, desire, affection, worry, all of it.

They broke apart, dangerously out of breath, but neither of them seemed to care. There was an aura of tranquility between the two, despite the impending task.

"Is that what it's supposed to feel like?" Alexis asked her mate.

"Well, you are my first and only, but yes. From what my maman and grand-mére have told me, it's supposed to feel like, how do you say, the last puzzle piece has been placed to form the complete picture. You are my missing piece, mon amour."

"You know, when you say stuff like that it makes it really tough to restrain myself from kissing you again."

"What's stopping you?"

Their lips met again and it was just as electrifying as the first time. Soft lips caressing one another. Hands on robes. Fingers in hair. They wouldn't have stopped for a few more minutes if not for Mr. Crouch's announcement.

"It is now time for the champions to select their dragons! Step up please!"

"I guess that's my cue." Alexis said, echoing Fleur's line from last night's meeting.

"I'll be back before you know it. Look after Gabrielle for me?"

"Of course. Always."

With that, Alexis headed for the tent exit, but not before talking to her lifelong friend first.

"So… That certainly took you awhile." Brook quipped, a smile on her face.

"Oh, shut up. Stop meddling in my love life." The redhead slapped Brook's arm.

"Any words or threats for me like Fleur? You know, in case I don't make it back?"

Another slap.

"Hey! Don't hit the champion, Lex!" Brook protested.

"Don't joke about that. But no. Not as much as Fleur. I know you, Brook. Just don't try to show off too much."

"I'll definitely try."

Crouch's voice rang out through the tent once more.

"That means all champions, Miss Wayne!"

"I gotta go," said Alexis. "Be safe, you hear me?"

"I will."

"Com Fortuna Protinus?" asked Alexis.

"Com Fortuna Protinus." Brook answered.

In a blink, she was gone.

"Brook, I want to show you something."

"Hmm?"

"Brooklyn Wayne, look at your father when he's speaking please."

"Yes, mama."

"You know that your family is from a long line of great men and women."

"Yes, like grandma!"

A low chuckle. Much more distant now.

"Yes, exactly like your grandmother." He took her hand, walking to his study, his wife in tow, close behind.

"With that line of prestige, comes tradition. The most important of which is how we live our lives. Our family has risen to where we are because of one rule that stems from a saying: Com Fortuna Protinus." He pointed towards the family coat of arms.

"Do you what that means, love?"

She shook her head.

"It means, 'With luck, forward.'"

The child's brows furrowed in confusion.

"I thought we didn't believe in those things, Papa."

"In luck, no. No, we do not. Because Waynes, make our own luck. Through carefulness, planning, preparation, and cunning, we define our own destiny. And with that, we have no other option than to go forward. Do you understand that, sweetheart?"

A hesitant nod.

"Someday, you'll understand, Brook. The world is a difficult place. But with luck—with our luck, you're destined for greatness. I just know it."

Com Fortuna Protinus.

She chanted the words over and over in her mind. Sometimes whispering them to no one but herself.

The tent was now barren. She was the last champion left. Krum had gone first, then Harry, and Fleur had left to face her dragon, a Common Welsh Green, just minutes prior.

Brook had the misfortune of selecting the fiercest of the bunch: the Hungarian Horntail.

Com Fortuna Protinus.

From the times that each prior champion had taken, they all had completed their tasks with high efficiency.

Com Fortuna Protinus.

The volume of the crowd suggested that they all had received high marks from the judges.

Com Fortuna Protinus.

Her right hand was shaking uncontrollably. So much so that she had to grip it with her left to stop it from vibrating.

Com Fortuna Protinus.

There was a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. As if she knew something was bound to go wrong. That she might not be fast enough. Clever enough. Brave enough. Good enough.

Com Fortuna Protinus.

Over the loudspeaker, she heard the voice of the announcer:

"And last but not least, the champion from Ilvermorny, Brooklyn Wayne!"

Time to go.

Com Fortuna Protinus.

Hermione was on the edge of her seat. She was equally impressed, horrified, and awed by the feats she had seen today. Sure, the practice of using sentient magical beings for our entertainment at their expense was barbaric. And of course, seeing teenagers nearly get charred alive was terrifying.

But seeing ingenuity and magical skill from all the champions was exhilarating. The brunette was certain that she was going to pass out from the anxiety that came with worrying for Harry's safety (for the fourth straight year, mind you) during his task, but before long, it was clear Brooklyn had prepared him well. The Gryffindor seeker had executed the long range Accio spell perfectly, and used his quidditch skills to expertly maneuver around the dragon as they took flight into the skies. In the distance, she caught Harry performing spells she knew weren't included in the past Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum. They must have come from the heiress.

After a few torturous minutes later, Harry swooped into the arena and snatched the egg with the dragon close behind him. He had received a score of 46, good enough to beat Krum.

Then, Fleur entered the arena. And in the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Alexis tense up beside her. The redhead's eyes ever left the grounds below and she reached and clasped a young blonde girl's hand with her own. Hermione saw various emotions playing out on her face in the span of minutes: fear, worry, panic, then immense relief.

To Hermione's right, however, it was a completely different story. Ginny was enraptured for all the other reasons. She called out for action, for danger. When Hermione chided her for it, she merely replied with, "but it's a sporting event, Hermione! Loosen up a bit!"

Her brother was not any better. He was worse, really. Ron was worried for Harry, of course, but when it came to Fleur, it was as if a switch inside his brain had magically flipped and he quickly turned into a drooling idiot, blatantly staring at the physique of the French champion. The task was buried far back in his mind. After she had snagged her own egg with an impressive sleeping incantation, Fleur exited the arena with as much grace as she entered it, head held high, flashing a bright smile, and taking the time to blow a kiss in their direction (mostly in Alexis's direction). When Fleur's task was over, the only thing that Ron could think of to say was, "Bloody hell, what I wouldn't do get a date with her." That earned him punches from both his sister and his friend.

Then finally, it was Brooklyn's turn. Hermione glanced towards her left, expecting to see the same emotions etched onto Alexis's face. On the contrary, the redhead was set, determined, and confident. She was appearing to say some phrase under her breath to no one in particular. Hermione couldn't tell if Fleur's success had given Alexis more confidence and faith, but something about this task was going to be different. She could feel it in the air, in her gut.

Brooklyn stood stoutly near the mouth of the arena, decked out in what could only be described as tactical battle gear. She was dressed in all white armor plating with accents of black at the junction of each plate. The armor conformed to her body, still maintaining her mobility. It didn't seem to be bulky at all, blending in with whatever weaving lied beneath the plates. She let her raven hair fall free, foregoing the helmet Hermione presumed completed the full armor.

Even with the presence of this fearsome beast, the Hungarian Horntail, Brooklyn did not waver a single bit.

Not even a twitch of her fingers.

She stared it down, peering into the pupils of the beast. Matching its ferocity in equal intensity and measure. At the sound of the cannon, both of them sprang into action immediately. The Horntail sending out an experimental sweep of its spiked tail in the general vicinity of Brooklyn's position, while Brooklyn skillfully dodged the blow, leaping out of danger and rolling in a somersault to deaden the impact of the fall.

Instead of staying under cover, Brooklyn jumped back up and charged towards the beast. After her second stride, she began to hurl harmless spells at the Horntail that bounced off its scales. It only seemed to anger the beast further. It let out a blood-curling, rage-filled roar and geared to send a blast of fire Brooklyn's way.

Hermione turned to Alexis, searching for answers.

"What is she doing? She's going to get herself killed!" Her voice was shaky, uncertain.

"Just trust her. She knows what she's doing."

"Merlin! It's going to—Brooklyn!"

The Horntail breathed a fierce, blistering column of fire straight at Brooklyn, which she dodged again, using her agility and athleticism. Without stopping to catch her breath or to reassess her strategy, Brooklyn began to sprint circles around the dragon, all the while flinging spells in its direction that didn't carry enough power to inflict significant damage, but just enough to annoy the Horntail, stoking its rage. The fact that Brooklyn kept dodging its onslaught of attacks without much problem didn't help either. it was an extremely dangerous idea to play around like Brooklyn was doing with the Horntail, as it was the most powerful, violent, and violent of the dragons. Sooner or later, it was going to unleash the full extent of its fury upon Brooklyn, and with the way this was going, Hermione wasn't sure if the heiress would live to tell the tale.

Only after a few seconds, she could see the telltale signs of the impending explosion. The outlines of the crusty scales of the Horntail began to glow blood red, signaling a major burst of energy and fire. There was no possible way Brooklyn was going to survive this task. Hermione shot Alexis a panicked look.

"Alexis, we have to do something! She's going to die out there!"

"Wait."

"It's going to burn her alive! Can't you see?" Hermione cried out, her tone desperate. She wasn't listening. Oh god. Hermione felt her vision blur and noticed that she was tearing up. She couldn't let her just die out there. But there's nothing she could do to stop the inevitable.

The Horntail was a mere moment away from fully charging for a spectacular blast. Brooklyn stood just thirty yards away from the beast, staring at it defiantly. The dragon opened its mouth and Brooklyn could see the fire climbing its way from its stomach, itching to shoot.

Now!

"AQUA ERUCTO!"

Just as soon as an enormous column of fire launched out of the Horntail, an equally destructive and powerful jet of water burst out from Brooklyn's wand. Hermione's jaw dropped to the floor. She had never seen raw magical power from someone else before. Not even Harry or Dumbledore. The ensuing clash of fire and water enveloped the entire arena, bleachers and all, in a thick, consuming fog. After a few seconds, Hermione couldn't even see her hands that were only a foot in front of her.

The audience was blinded and murmurs of confusion broke out among the students. Thankfully, a gust of wind cleared the entire area of fog within seconds. The view presented to the crowd was shocking: the dragon was on its side, collapsed, presumably exhausted from its overexertion in the blast. But Brooklyn was nowhere to be seen. Everyone in the bleachers seemed to pick up on the disappearance of the heiress and began looking around frantically, wondering what had happened.

Then, only a row or two behind where Hermione sat, a voice cut through the silence.

"Holy shit! Did you guys see that? Wasn't that just fucking amazing?"

Hermione jerked her head towards the sound of the voice and found Brooklyn standing unscathed in the bleachers, with a huge smug grin plastered on her face.

"And look, the egg!"

From under her arm, she grabbed the prize with one hand and hoisted it victoriously into the air.

The arena erupted with rapturous applause.

Brooklyn looked directly at Hermione, and winked.

A/N: Thanks for reading and leaving comments you guys. Y'all keep me going.

I'll see you soon.

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P.S. Now you know why the fic is titled this way!