A/N: Hello, people!

I don't own Harry Potter.

I have no beta.

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-This is fun!

Three days until the first task and Harry was no closer to coming up with some sort of strategy than he was the night previous. Instead, he sat through all of his classes, the agitation bleeding into him the more the time passed.

If there was one thing that was good about this tournament, it was that they at least had the decency to allow the champions a break from school. He did not have to study for end of the year exams this year because he was exempt from them like all the other champions. That one, small mercy in the sea of turmoil that was his life.

The Monster Book of Monsters advised that should someone approach a dragon, they should do it in high numbers and to stun first and ask questions later. The face was the most vulnerable place on a dragon, much like with a Basilisk. Aiming for the eyes was the best chance if someone was alone when facing the dragon.

Harry knew some good spells but long distance aiming was difficult. He would have to be within fifty feet of the creature and he abhorred the very thought of even being within visible distance of it.

How would he maintain his desired distance while still managing to defeat a dragon? Was such a thing even possible? How fast were dragons anyway? Were they faster than Basilisks, because if that was the case, then he was dead either way.

And would they even have the decency to keep the thing chained up? Would it be set loose in the arena of their choosing? Was the end objective truly to defeat a dragon? Really, did they think that seventeen year olds would be capable of doing what even Dragonologists struggled to do on a daily basis?

The more Harry thought about it, the more bitter he became. This tournament had a history of being bloody and dangerous and when his name came out of the goblet, he'd been more worried about unwanted attention being on him for the fourth year in a bloody row!

Now that he had more time to consider the implications, he could tell that someone who was old enough to be considered an adult in Magical Britain, was trying to get him killed.

Harry was not like the others his age. He was not blinded by 'eternal glory' and 'wealth'. Most, if not all of the students, had not taken Dumbledore's warning seriously because they lived relatively easy lives and couldn't even comprehend the thought that one of them could die in the tournament. It was always about fame and fortune first, safety and comfort second.

Harry would give anything to switch out with somebody. He even read through the tournament guidelines - which had been revised over one hundred and fourteen times - and there was no possible way for him to switch places with anybody. There was no way for him to skip out during the tasks. Even if he was bedridden with terrible illness or broken bones, he could still lose his magic!

Hell, Ron wanted to take his place so badly and Harry would have loved to not be the one in danger for once!

Currently, Harry was stewing over the possibilities. What could destroy a dragon?

An explosion perhaps? But an explosion could destroy anything, not just a dragon. But were there magical explosions capable of the same devastation as, say, an atomic bomb?

But would that be considered too much? While Harry found himself steadily losing his care for anyone that wasn't himself, did he really want to eradicate a good portion of Britain all because he was angry and wanted to teach them a lesson?

Strangely enough, he kind of did. But his issue was with the magicals, not the muggles, so blowing up the entire island was not in the works.

Would a bazooka work? One to the face maybe?

How strong was a dragon's hide?

The Monster Book of Monsters was once again put to good use.

Dragonhide was strong enough to withstand most magic. Ritualistic curses and extremely Dark Arts, were of the only few ways that magic could harm a dragon. And a Killing Curse would kill it without harming it, but that didn't really count. Especially since he couldn't use an Unforgivable Curse in order to help himself.

However, there were tales. Tales of certain wizards in the Middle Ages who used enchanted swords to fell such beasts. One Godric Gryffindor had used his own sword to defeat a dragon that had attempted to claim Hogwarts as it's hoard.

If a sword that was charmed to not break, could slice off a dragon's forepaw, then obviously weapons that weren't magical should be able to injure a dragon. And to think, Gryffindor had managed such a feat with only his own physical strength.

Harry had to sit back and imagine what would happen if a piece of metal moving faster than a human could swing a sword, pierced a dragon's hide.

And that lead to this very predicament.

Was it possible to transfigure something into a gun? Was there even a spell that did things like that?

Most magicals seemed to have deluded themselves into believing that Muggles were some sort of underdeveloped species that weren't capable of any true danger. Like, it seemed that Magical Europe had widely forgotten the Witch Hunts and what havoc non magical people had managed to wreak over the magical communities.

If only Harry could find some way to remind them all of just what Muggles could do.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the thought. If he could get his hands on some weapons, he would be set!

Now, how did he get away with leaving the school to find such weapons? And where the bleedin' hell would he even get any?

"I think you should ask Dobby."

Harry jumped, the book falling to the floor and his heart nearly pounding out of his chest in his fright.

There was a blonde girl in the room with him! How long had she been there and why did she know Dobby?

"Hello, Harry Potter. I'm Luna Lovegood."

Her voice was airy and light and made him think of curtains made of sheer fabric, strangle enough.

Her hair reminded him of Malfoy, but it trailed down to her hips and was styled in messy waves. Her eyebrows were so light he almost thought she didn't have any for a second, which gave her dotty appearance a stronger presence.

She wore a pink jumper, radish-like earrings that seemed to float a little, and an odd necklace that reminded him of a Butterbeer cork. To top her odd appearance off, she was not wearing shoes.

"What?" he asked, feeling dumb for being unable to keep up with her swift speech.

"I said that you should go ask Dobby for help. He's in the Kitchens around this time of day. Or you could wait until tonight. The other Elves are scared to clean Gryffindor Tower because they've been finding small hats and shoes and Dobby is the only one willing to brave the mess."

"How?"

She smiled. "He works at Hogwarts, of course!"

"Why?"

"Honestly, I had expected this to go better," she mumbled, looking off to who knows where. Her grey/blue eyes fixed upon him again, much clearer than before. "Dobby is not a true Elf here and can come and go as he pleases. Elves can Apparate within wards at any time. Dobby considers you his best friend and would do anything for you. Including breaking into a Muggle military base in Edinburgh and stealing military weaponry if it meant saving your life."

The blond then turned and flounced from the room with a parting, "The portrait of fruit in the Hufflepuff Basement will lead you to the Kitchens. Just tickle the pear."

Harry was left to consider her words and realize that she had somehow known what he was thinking and had given him the resources necessary to see his plan through!

Who was Luna Lovegood?

A/N: Another is done!

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