A/N: Hello, people!
I don't own Harry Potter.
I have no beta.
ENJOY!
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It had been your average Monday. Well, that was actually a lie. An average Monday for Harry Potter used to involved doing his homework in the common room but that became nearly impossible because of his housemates.
They couldn't seem to decide if they wanted to cheer him on or tear him down. Some had obviously wanted to be a part of the Triwizard Tournament and felt that he had cheated - much like his ex-best friend had - and others thought it would bring their House more notoriety.
Something about Hufflepuffs not being good enough to represent Hogwarts. Harry hadn't really cared much at the time because he had been internally panicking over what he was supposed to do for the first task.
An underage teenager was expected to compete in a dangerous tournament. Harry had searched everything he could find in the library because he had to know! He had to prepare himself so there wouldn't be any surprises halfway through the competition!
Basically, every task was designed to test the champion's mettle and Harry had read up on what they had done in previous years.
A century ago, the tasks were considered 'barbaric' and that any future tournaments would certainly have more consideration and be better managed.
That did not make him feel any better! They had used Kraken several times in the 1700s! Someone even had the great idea to use a Nundu in 1560, which ended up killing nearly everyone in the arena because Nundu were as large as a three story house and had toxic breath!
Level Five creatures were obviously okay to use in the tournament which meant that Harry had to prepare himself for others. Facing a Basilisk did not in any way prepare him. He'd managed that win out of pure luck. If Fawkes had not been there, Harry would have been dead. Plain and simple.
Harry was decent at magic, all things considered. He didn't possess any super talents unless Parseltongue counted. He was not like Hermione in any way. He could not perform miraculous feats despite what books claimed he could do.
His fellow students sneered at him when he walked by. They made derogatory comments about him 'knowing everything' or 'thinking highly of himself'. These people who knew next to nothing about him were throwing him under the bloody bus!
Where did they get all these wild notions?
Harry's experience with the Slytherins had left him relatively unaffected by the badges Malfoy had created. He was so used to the bigotry that members of that house liked to spit his way that it became second nature to brush it off after four years of the same treatment. At least Slytherins didn't pretend to be on his side and then abandon him when the going got tough or the public opinion did an about face.
Not like the other houses! He remembered very well what had happened in his second year and how easily his fellow students had been swayed by the words of Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff in the same year.
Magical Britain seemed to be of a similar mindset and were ruled by whatever happened in the media. The popular opinion always won allegiance and people would quickly switch back and forth at the drop of a hat if it meant that they were no longer in the minority.
Harry was swiftly becoming sick and bloody tired of it.
First he was the Boy-Who-Lived! Then he was the Heir of Slytherin and was evil for being a Parselmouth. Then he was some poor soul who was the sole focus of an evil wizard and needed to be protected for his own good. And now he was an attention seeker and glory hound.
They couldn't seem to make up their minds and it had become old very quickly.
Harry quickly learned that unless someone presented themselves, he was very much alone and would most likely go the rest of the school year as such. Just another repeat of second year, without his friends to see him through this time of course.
He flipped a page in the book he was reading. The demonic, Monster Book of Monsters. It was actually really useful. He hadn't used it much the previous year for fear of it chomping off his hand, but now, there was more at stake than loss of limb. Loss of life seemed to be more important.
According to the book, creatures that were of XXXX rating or higher were considered Rights. If someone managed to kill a creature of such status, they were allowed to keep the carcass and do what they wanted with it.
That meant harvesting potions ingredients, using the hide, and possibly anything else people could come up with for a rare, dead body.
Immediately, Harry checked on Basilisks and learned some interesting information.
Basilisks were rare these days and getting your hands on any part of one would make you incredibly wealthy. Basilisk were resistant to spells and were only vulnerable in the face. That meant that their scales were much like dragon hide and could make durable clothing that would aid in protecting the wearer.
Had Harry known about this ahead of time, he could have had some made, because the Basilisk was his by Right of Conquest after all.
Unfortunately, that was not feasible at the moment because the task was in five days and the stitching of such magic resistant, protective clothing took weeks.
Great.
The teen banged his head against the desk of the unused classroom he was hiding in.
He hated reading books. He hated studying. And he hated having to be in this tournament.
Dragons!
It had happened purely by accident, and by that, he meant that he had seen something in the forest from his window in his dorm, and decided to check it out.
He and his fellow champions had to face dragons! Harry had fled the scene immediately, returning to his dorm to retrieve the Monster Book of Monsters.
He then spent the entire night pouring over it and only resting when Sirius fire called the Gryffindor common room from someone's house.
Sirius' advice over the dragons was something along the lines of Transfiguration and turning something in the terrain into an animal. Harry appreciated the idea, but nixed it immediately. That was sixth year Transfiguration and he wasn't that fond of the class to learn such in only four days!
Also, Sirius provided some insight into his worries about the Durmstrang headmaster and explained that he had been a Death Eater who got off on easy charges by giving up all the information he had. Basically, the man was a coward.
The rest of his evening was spent stewing over this newfound knowledge and wondering just how he could defeat a dragon when it took more than twelve wizards to merely stun one.
A/N: Another is done!
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