InsanitySorrow 2.0: Jen doesn't really plan to be a monster hunter; that was just an excuse should she and Flitwick be caught. Flitwick is never mentioned in canon as being a part of the Order, no, and I think it's because he would be a bit too lethal for Dumbledore's tastes. Danny's the way he is because James is still alive. I do have to disagree with you about Malfoy, though; I interpreted his actions in book 6 as him talking the talk but not having the guts to get his hands dirty. The rest of the Blacks will attend the First Task, and you'll see them next chapter.

Cytokinesis: Memory charms follow the same rules here as they do in Faery Heroes: they can be undone within a week from when they were cast, but after that, they're permanent. Jen could theoretically "unravel" a spell after it's been cast, but it moves too fast for that to be practical. Much easier to conjure a wall to block it.

Kythorian: My disclaimers are mostly just things I personally didn't like, regardless of if they are in character or not. The problem with Jen taking revenge against the Potters in the way you suggest is that Danny has no reason to believe her; take another look at his line before she reads his mind. "You may or may not be my sister, but you're definitely too Dark to be a Potter." In half a page, he's gone from freaking out about them being related to debating if she's telling the truth. I've seen that kind of instant acceptance many times in fanfiction but never understood it; if someone I hate taunts me with shocking information, you better believe I won't trust them without some form of corroboration.

Master Bombadil: All Soul Arts fall under the umbrella of black magic, so Jen knows about and can recognize a Horcrux, even if she can't make one herself. As for why she worked as a prostitute when she can teleport and control minds, it's mainly because, like traditional magical education, she learned those towards the end of her tutoring. She had already been part of Candyland for several years by that point, so she was comfortable there. She couldn't take large quantities of things or return to the same store often for a couple of articles of clothing without catching the attention of the Muggle cops, and if she used magic, the DMLE could become interested in her; she preferred anonymity to comfort. Of course, she can also be a selfish little bitch when she wants and refused to stick her neck too far out for the other kids at the brothel.

I hope all of you had a good Christmas and New Year. I know I did; two weeks without a textbook or anatomy atlas in sight! The movie quote in last chapter ("That's not true. That's impossible!") is from Star Wars V, The Empire Strikes Back. Considering how Luke and Leia were eyeing each other at the end of the first movie, I thought the line was incredibly appropriate.

Disclaimer: Were the dragons for the First Task left unchained in book 4? If so, I don't own the Harry Potter franchise; it belongs to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, Warner Bros., and whoever else she sold the rights to.

Chapter 19
Giant Lizards

Jen stepped into the Great Hall on Monday, only to sigh as a wave of impatient animosity swept over her from the Hufflepuff table. Normally she wouldn't have cared what was wrong with them, but that was her current destination; anything that was able to rile up the normally laid-back Badgers could make Diggory's overprotective entourage unwilling to let him be in her presence alone. Another sigh escaped her as she recognized the instigator. Granger, what the hell are you up to now?

"I thought Hufflepuffs supported fairness and justice! How can you ignore this?!" the prude shrieked. "These poor beings are horribly mistreated, but you just sit here and say, 'Oh, that's the way it's always been'!"

Surprisingly, it was Susan who shot to her feet and faced off with the Gryffindor. "We can ignore you because you're just making broad accusations. Unlike your house, we don't blindly leap into situations. Yes, some house elves are abused, but most families treat them with respect, even love."

"They're slaves!"

"I think Nippy, my family's elf, would disagree with you," Susan said, eliciting a surprised gasp from Granger. "I've always considered her a member of the family, just like Auntie Amelia. Now, if you're done insulting us, go away." The rest of the fourth-year Puffs stood as well. Left with no out, the lonely Lion huffed indignantly and stormed away as best she could with her tail between her legs.

"My my, I've always heard that fighting an angry badger is a terrifying prospect. Now I understand what they meant." Jen slid next to the reseated girl and jerked a thumb back towards Granger. "Mind telling me what that was all about?"

Susan growled lightly. "She's on some crusade to save the house elves from their 'vile, despicable owners'. Apparently, their deepest, most secret desire is to be given clothes so they can be free to do what they want, and if they don't want that or don't hate their family, they've been totally brainwashed and need her to make that decision for them."

"Seriously? I'll have to make sure she never meets Kreacher; if he heard that, he'd chase her out of the house with a hot frying pan. Brainwashed, please." Her pronouncement was met by snickers from everyone in earshot.

"That'd be funny to see. Why are you here, though? I don't think you've ever visited us before."

"No, I haven't, though I really should have. I actually came over for a quick word with Diggory before breakfast, but it seems I was a tad early." She twisted on the bench to face the approaching sixth-year. "You have time for a chat? Privately?"

Diggory nodded to her as he set his bag on the floor. "Short one, sure. Lead on."

They entered a small room off the Hall, where she sealed and silenced the door before refocusing her attention on him. "I have good news, bad news, and worse news. Which do you want first?"

"That's not what I expected to hear this morning," he muttered. "Give me the good news."

"I know what the First Task is."

"Really? You're sure? Excellent." He grinned broadly, but it dropped as a thought crossed his mind. "Wait, how did you even find out?"

"Someone who will deny any and all involvement should you ask about it," she replied, a smile playing on her own lips. Primarily because Potter doesn't remember revealing it to me. "Bad news, we have to get past dragons."

"Dragons?" he asked weakly.

"Which brings us to the worse news. These are just any dragons; they're nesting mothers, eggs included."

"That's worse, all right. Merlin's soggy socks, a mother dragon." The older boy shivered. "This isn't going to be easy, not with only a few days to prepare. When did you hear about it?"

"Yesterday. I wanted confirmation from a second source before I told you. You up for this, Diggory?"

"Call me Cedric. You're giving me a chance not to die this weekend; you bloody well have the right to use my first name."

"Jen." Though addressing him by that wouldn't entice her to trust him any further that she already had, she knew it would him. He wasn't as cynical as she. This would strengthen their alliance at no cost to her.

"To answer your question, I don't really have much of an option to not be ready, do I? Still, I can cobble together something. Transfiguration's my best subject, so I'll probably work with that. Since you haven't said anything about it, I guess your friend didn't find out which breeds they had."

She shook her head. Potter had been too distracted with the long jets of flame and the sharp teeth of the Horntail to identify the others. "Is it uncivilized of us to wish ourselves good luck?"

"Honestly, I think we can use all the luck we can get right now."

Wiping crust from her eyes, Luna glared at the Shuffling Whibblestumper tugging at the hem of her nightgown. She enjoyed having friends, of course, but no one ever told her about the downsides, like being dragged from her warm bed at three in the morning because one of them needed her. A glance down the stairs to the common room quickly revealed who it was: Jen had claimed the couch and table closest to the fire and was speaking to a quill hovering above a sheet of parchment. Shooing away the nine-legged canine, she crept down the steps but took no pains to be hide her presence. Her friend probably knew she was there already.

"On the other hand, the arc length, theta, of the shield's panels may be freely manipulated without altering the energy cost. Care should be taken when doing so in a true combat situation, as decreasing the width of each panel, and thereby increasing the number, improves the shield's ability to withstand area spells like Incendio but simultaneously diminishes the protection offered against linear spells such as Stupefy, and vice versa. This is why the default Protego charm produces fifteen panels; a balanced defense is best unless the caster can reasonably expect to face spells primarily of only one type." Plucking the DictaQuill from the parchment to lay it on the table, Jen leaned back and asked, "Why are you up so late?"

"Whibblestumper," she said, and that was all that was needed. Jen may not necessarily believe her about every creature she saw, but the older girl at least kept an open mind and paid attention rather than blow her off, which was more than she could say about anyone other than her father. It even made up for the early hour.

Jen pursed her lips briefly. "I remember that name. Those are the freaky puppy ones, right?"

"Yes, though they are more like jackals in appearance than dogs or wolves. They are born and grow as friendships do, then find one of the two people should the other need help of some kind, whether that's actual physical assistance or just someone to talk to. So really, I should be asking why you're up so late."

"Couldn't sleep." Jen patted the cushion beside her, and Luna happily curled up on the fire-warmed space. "The First Task is in a few hours, and rather than toss and turn in bed all night, I figured I could get some homework out of the way."

"That's the Ravenclaw way. Nothing can stop us from learning, not even staring death in the face."

"Death might be preferable to what's coming," Jen muttered unhappily.

Shrugging her shoulders at the strange response, she leaned over to glance at the half-finished essay. "Arithmancy? This looks quite a bit easier than the problem sets Vector keeps assigning us."

"That's because you didn't see me analyzing the formula before I could start the essay. You wouldn't believe how complicated it was."

"And being blind can't have made it any easier. Speaking of which…" Luna's hands carefully brushed Jen's uncommonly long fringe aside. She was a bit surprised that the girl wasn't wearing her customary blindfold, but paid it no mind as she examined the partly open eyes. "You told me that your eyes and lids were heavily scarred, but they don't look bad, just white and a little rough."

"That's because no matter how much of a bastard he may be, Snape's still a certifiable genius with potions. At the rate his concoction's working, my eyesight should be totally restored by early this summer, possibly even before the year's out."

She sat back after returning the locks of raven hair to their original positions. "That's wonderful! I'm curious, though; I thought you and Snape were getting along better since you told him about your problem. Why insult him?"

"Just because he's done me a favor doesn't mean I won't call a spade a spade. It doesn't mean I don't like him, either, only that he can be a foul git when he wants. Of course, so can I," Jen said with a grin. "Seeing again is still months away, so don't get too worked up about it yet."

"Makes sense." She shivered in the cold air and scooted closer to the warm brunette. Jen huffed playfully but lifted an arm, allowing her to snuggle. Much better, she thought sleepily. "I just realized it, but you never told me what this Task is."

"No, I didn't."

She directed a mild glare at the Black heiress, but to no avail. Giving up on the subtle route, she poked the girl in the belly. "Spill."

"You'll just have to wait and see with the rest of the school. It's only six hours or so from now, anyway." Jen smiled at her yawn. "Go ahead and get back to sleep. I'll make sure Whibblestumpers don't bother you again tonight."

"You're why it got me up to begin with," she retorted, but she repositioned her head on Jen's shoulder and closed her eyes anyway. It was early, after all, and she was still quite tired.

Flitwick fetched Jen from the Great Hall immediately after she finished her breakfast and led to a walled clearing located a short distance into the Forbidden Forest. "Have you decided on a final strategy?" he asked nervously as they approached a large tent.

"Yes, I did. Taking into account just how resistant a dragon's hide is, I doubt any of my spells, even those you taught me this past week, will have much of an effect beyond angering it. I did a little additional research using the books you recommended and found that dragons hunt primarily by sight, so my best bet is to make myself invisible and blow up the ground at its feet to keep its attention off me. Hopefully that should be enough."

"And if it's not?"

"Plan B's fairly straightforward," she said with a grimace. "Run like hell and try not to get killed."

He goggled at her. "Well, at least you won't forget it."

"I don't like it any more than you do," and probably even less, "but there's not much else I can do." There truly wasn't; dragons had been known to shrug off everything short of the Killing Curse with sufficient motivation, and should her plan fail to keep the beast distracted, it would have no shortage of that. If she had some of her dragon's tissue and the necessary herbs, she could create a doll through which to disable it, but that would require performing black magic in public. She liked her head attached to her shoulders, thank you very much. "Worst case scenario, I hide behind the judges."

Despite the gravity of the situation, Flitwick couldn't help but snort at that. "Just keep your wits about you. We're Ravenclaws; our minds are our greatest weapons."

"I'll try to remember that when I've got tons of scaly monster breathing fire on my heels." She sighed as they reached the opening of the tent. "All jokes aside, Professor, I really do want to thank you. If it weren't for your assistance, I'm not sure how I'd get through this."

He held her hand in his own and gave it a fond pat. "You'd have found a way, of that I have no doubts. I need to take my seat, but know that I and your friends will be cheering for you. And no matter what, your score is worth nothing compared to your life. Observe, plan, and try not to do anything too Gryffindor-esque." He reluctantly walked away, and she entered the tent.

She was the second one there; Victor Krum was perched on a stool along one wall, fear and a slight hint of desperation wafting off of him. Jen moved closer and claimed the adjacent seat. "Krum, you okay?" Potter's memories showed Karkaroff already knows and likely told Krum; has he found out additional information since then?

He nodded his head vigorously. "No." At her short laugh, he smiled a little and continued, "You know vhat dis Task is, da? Ve have a right to be somevhat nervous. I keep asking myself, 'Victor, vhat vere you dinking? You knew not to, vhat is phrase, bite off more dan you can jew.' And dere's no vay to back out now."

"I think we'll be okay in the end. The British Ministry can't afford to have any deaths in this Tournament; there are just too many high-profile champions. Potter and I are nobility, Diggory's father works in the Ministry, Delacour's father is high up in the French government from what I've been able to find, and you're a world-famous Quidditch player. My guess is that there are a number of safeguards in place that we don't have a clue about; we'll be facing an illusion of danger, rather than real danger." She forced a wan grin on her face. "At least, that's what I'm telling myself to ward off my fear."

"Is it verking?"

"Not really, but I've got nothing else."

Krum nodded solemnly at that, and they waited impatiently as the other competitors drifted into the tent. When Potter finally made an appearance, Bagman, who had arrived a few minutes earlier, stepped up and called for their attention. "Well, now that we're all here, it's time to fill you in! Your audience is assembling as we speak, so I'll offer each of you this bag," he shook the silk sack in his hand, "from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different, er, varieties, you see. There's something else I was supposed to tell you, what was it?… Oh, yes, your task is to collect the golden egg!"

Collect a golden egg from a dragon? Oh, sure, like that won't be difficult. Dragons were notorious even in the Muggle World for how jealously they defended their treasure hordes, and now she had to steal a lump of gold in the shape of an egg from a nest, where there were several real eggs sitting around? Baron, protect me from my own decisions, for in hindsight this was an incredibly stupid idea.

Seeing that they all understood his directions, he opened the sack and offered it to her. "Ladies first." She reached in and withdrew an animated model of a dragon with a medal around its neck. It snapped at her fingers several times before she petrified it. "Ah, the Antipodean Opaleye, a dragon native to New Zealand. Don't be deceived by its beauty; the females are considered some of the most dangerous creatures around."

Bagman continued passing the bag around; Leroux was pleased with his Romanian Longhorn, much more so than Eberhardt was with the Ukrainian Ironbelly she drew. Potter was downright furious that he would have to face the Horntail he saw in the forest.

"You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take them on," Bagman explained. Jen examined the pendant more closely; not detecting anything with her sonar, she brushed a thumb against it and found a seven shallowly engraved on its surface. "Junior champions, if you take a look in this cabinet, you will find three fire-resistant cloaks. Don't get too cocky; they may give you some defense against your dragons' flame, but you must still be on your guards for their claws and teeth. Now, I have to leave you because I'm commentating. Mr. Diggory, you're first; just go out into the enclosure when you hear the whistle, all right? Danny, could I have a quick word? Outside?"

"I wonder what zat ees about," Delacour pondered aloud.

She shook herself from how the older girl's figure felt through the tight robes; she had forgotten to apply her charm when the Veela had entered. Clearing the lust from her mind long enough to cast it, she answered, "Not sure, but I expect it's some type of last-minute help."

"Surely your Meeneestry would not stoop so low."

"When it comes to Potter, you'd be surprised." She threw herself back onto the stool she had claimed earlier, only for Cedric to join her. "Yes?"

"You going to be okay?" he asked quietly. "Figure out a plan?"

"Yes, though that's not stopping my stomach from practicing its food-to-butterfly transfiguration. I was Sorted into Ravenclaw for a reason, and strange as it may seem, it was not because I make a habit of putting myself in dangerous situations. Rather the reverse, actually." He laughed, but everyone could hear how hollow it was. Now that they were only a few minutes away from facing an angry dragon, it was clear they were all reevaluating their decisions to participate.

The first whistle blew shortly after Potter reentered the tent, and Cedric departed without the usual spring in his step. The walls were charmed to allow no sound but the signal to reach them, and the silence quickly became oppressive. Minutes felt like hours, the monotony broken only by another champion being called out to confront their fate. Finally, the whistle sounded a sixth time.

Potter rose from his chair and made his way to the cabinet, only to find that it wouldn't open. He pulled the doors, rattled them, even cast a bevy of unlocking charms, but they stayed stubbornly closed. "But… he said…" He turned around, and his jaw dropped open. "You!"

"What exactly did you think you were doing, Potter?" Jen asked sweetly. Her blank wand was still pointed at the cabinet while the hand gripping it directed the magic holding the doors shut. "I do believe that the cloaks are for the junior champions."

"I'm a junior champion!"

"No, you're a senior champion for an unnamed fourth school. Three juniors, three cloaks, and both Leroux and Eberhardt have already taken theirs out. The only one left in there is mine."

He gaped at her, his face heating as it flushed in anger. "But I need it, and I have to face my dragon first!"

"That is my problem… how?" The whistle blew again, louder and sharper. She motioned at the door with her left hand. "Your adoring fans await. I doubt you want to disappoint them."

Potter glared even as he stalked to the flaps. "If I die, it'll be your fault."

"I'll be sure to put flowers on your grave, maybe some snapdragons."

He stomped out, and she waited for a count of one hundred before she moved to the door as well. Sticking her head out, the noise the charms had repelled came flooding into her ears. She whistled and pulled herself back into the blessed quiet, and a few seconds later, her partner in crime entered as well.

"Loki, what would I ever do without you?" The raven croaked gleefully as he dropped a small sack into her lap before perching on her shoulder. She pulled her mirror out of the bag, enlarged it, and with a few swirls of her hand upon its cold surface, fell into the prismatic depths.

Her original plan was to examine the layout of the arena she would be fighting in, but now that she had begun her scrying, she decided to investigate how the others had fared. Concentrating on Cedric's mind and magical core, the glowing mist surrounding her swirled and dissipated; she was in another tent, one that was partitioned to give each champion privacy. The Hufflepuff was apparently bored, sitting on the edge of an examination table and swinging his feet, but unharmed.

Slipping through the wall toward the opposite side of the tent – for what was a physical barrier to a mental projection? – she traversed each participant's cubicle and took stock of their injuries. Cedric and Leroux were the only two unhurt; Delacour had a sprained ankle if the bandage was anything to go by, and Krum had sustained a burn to his buttocks and upper thighs that required him to strip so he could rub a salve in. Jen was not ashamed about spending a half-minute or so longer than necessary examining him during the process.

Unlike the others, Ingrid Eberhardt was truly injured. She was also unconscious at the moment while Pomfrey assisted two men in green Healers' robes, their wands moving in continuous patterns as they tried desperately to repair the gaping tears in her back. Considering that the girl's vertebrae and even spinal cord were clearly visible in places, Jen wondered how much they could do for her. Silently vowing to check on the German champion later, she sought out Potter.

Lights and fog swept by her again, and she found herself staring at the Horntail's paw as it came crashing down.

After reflexively jumping away and calming her racing heart, she took stock of the arena. The nest was positioned at the far end from the entrance, golden egg shining brightly among the real gray ones, with the dragon a dozen yards closer in. A second glance at the beast showed that it had been tethered to the ground, though the chain was long enough for it to wander anywhere in its half of the enclosure that it wanted to.

So, there's the nest and eggs, there's the dragon… Where's Potter? Finally paying attention to Bagman's commentary, she looked up. Oh.

Jen could say many things about the boy she had the misfortune of being related to: he was an arrogant, idiotic follower; more concerned with singing Dumbledore's praises than becoming powerful in his own right; a quintessential Gryffindor; and most importantly, the spawn of two people she would dearly love to see ripped to shreds and laying in wide pools of their own blood. She could not, however, deny that he was talented on a broom. He swerved and dipped, staying just out of reach of the snapping jaws seeking a taste of his flesh and the flames being sprayed at him. She was reluctantly impressed.

Still, the dragon doesn't look like it's really trying. In fact, it was standing solidly on the ground, only moving enough to stay between Potter and the eggs. Realization struck her then; a flying human wasn't enough of a threat for it to put everything it had into eliminating the creature invading its domain. Dragons aren't that intelligent, so if I gave it a bigger threat, it would focus single-mindedly on that and leave me alone. That would be safer than destroying the ground at its feet, but what could I use for a diversion?

Thinking furiously, she shoved her hands in the pockets of her robes, and her hand brushed against something. She felt it again, now recognizing what it was. An evil smile split her face. Oh, yes, this will work perfectly.

She jerked her mind out of her mirror before shrinking it and dropping it back into the bag. Seeing that she was finished, Loki picked it up and flew out the still-open tent flap. He understood that his mistress needed all her concentration for what she was about to do.

In the minutes before the whistle blew yet again, she scratched several copies each of a few Futhark runes onto the object's surface: algiz for resilience, uruz for strength, ansuz for communication and authority. When it was sufficiently covered, she gently poured magic into the symbols, focusing on what she wanted each to do. Finally, she was done; her little pet was enchanted, if minimally, and now she just had to wait until she was in the arena to apply the last spell.

She was walking down the path between tent and dragon before the whistle was finished sounding. Upon entering the enclosure, she couldn't help but smirk; the poor monster wouldn't know what hit it.

"And for our last contest, Jennifer Black facing an Antipodean Opaleye!" Cheers rang from the stands, and they only increased when she waved back. Once the students had screamed themselves out, she faced the dragon, which like the Horntail was positioned between her and the egg. "Miss Black, you may start… NOW!"

"You should enjoy this," she muttered, tossing her distraction to the ground. "I brought you a playmate." Then she enlarged it. Ten, twenty, thirty feet long; only when it was the same size as her foe did she stop. Finding the mental connection she had given it, she sent a command.

The no-longer-miniature dragon statue, medal still dangling from its neck, roared in unmistakeable challenge.

One thing she had found in her research was that dragons were incredibly territorial. In the wild, this wasn't so much of a problem due to their small number, but reserve-bred dragons started attacking each other practically as soon as they hatched. These fights were vicious, responsible for more injuries to dragon handlers trying to separate the beasts than any other incident. Needless to say, as soon as the Opaleye saw and heard the simulacrum, it went berserk.

Okay, maybe not my best idea, Jen thought as she scrambled out of the way of the two behemoths before she could be stepped on in reality. The earth shook as they fell upon each other, jaws aiming at the opposite's throat. She had left the behavior charms on the model to eliminate the need to constantly guide its actions, making it difficult for the audience to tell which dragon was real and which was a toy as they tussled.

With the nest unguarded, it was a simple matter to run there and pick up the only non-organic egg. Not so simple was getting back; the battle had moved towards her, and now she was boxed in. Also a problem was that the protective enchantments had weakened because of the increased size of the construct, leaving her dragon to lose one of its front forelegs and a large section of wing. She gulped as the real creature bit into its tail and pulled half of it off. Once her defender was destroyed and the dragon spotted her, she would undoubtedly be next.

Pounce!, she shouted through the link. The animated statue did just that, knocking the monster onto its back and snapping the bones in one wing. Acting on its programmed instincts, it sank sharp fangs into the exposed neck and jerked back, spraying the ground with blood from enormous carotid arteries. The Opaleye stilled in ten seconds, and the vibrations present in all living creatures faded away in fifteen.

The crowd, previously speechless in amazement, veritably exploded. She ignored the noise, though, directing the construct to move to one side before attempting to shrink it back to a manageable size. Unfortunately, the damage proved too much, and it crumbled with a flat whump. She stepped to the carcass's head and amplified her voice to be heard over the din. "Quiet!"

The crowd fell silent, allowing her next words to be clearly heard. "As slayer of this monster and in accordance with the Rights of Conquest, I, Jennifer Bellatrix Black, do hereby claim this dragon in the name of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black."

If it isn't obvious, I was a huge Godzilla fan when I was a kid. The inspiration for Jen to claim the dragon's body came from wordhammer's Holly Evans and the Spiral Path.

There's another level to Jen's last taunt to Danny beyond the name; in the Victorian flower language, snapdragons mean arrogance or presumption. Basically, she's saying that if he dies, it will be his own fault.

Silently Watches out.