Disclaimer-If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude...I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.
Author's Notes—Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.
Congratulations, all! Book 6 is on the way! Yay!
Jamie Bell—Thanks for reviewing. It's nice to know you're still enjoying the story. J I'm really flattered you think I do a good job portraying Ginny's feelings. Good question about how Ginny knew what had happened to Harry. In my story MoP, Ginny has something similar to an out of body experience in the Chamber.
Raiining—Thank you for taking time to review! J I loved that moment when Ginny really wants to reach out to Harry, too. I'm glad I'm not the only one who's enjoying this fic!
EEDOE—Yeah, Ron is adorable…and I loved writing Ron and Hermione moments! I like the little quirky gestures, too. They add depth to a character. ;-) Thanks for all your help with this chapter! hugs
Bill—I hope the "great chapter" wasn't sarcastic! ;-) Sorry I left you hanging so long! hugs
"One down, three to go!" Bagman declared grandly as Cedric hobbled off the field to where his friends were waiting.
"They're taking him to that tent Madam Pomfrey has set up," Lee observed. "He'll be good as new in no time."
Ginny looked at him gratefully and tried to smile, but Lee's attention had already been absorbed by Fleur Delacour's appearance on the pitch.
The dragon "A Welsh Green," Fred muttered, well informed from years of living with Charlie paced behind Fleur, making her look even more fragile than usual. The Beaubaton's champion was so far away it was to decide if she really was shivering, or if it was merely Ginny's imagination. Fleur's chin was up, her shoulders squared. Ginny even thought her exquisitely shaped mouth was firmed into a straight line that commanded a trickle of respect from the most skeptical observer. Fleur spun around to face the dragon before Bagman had even finished giving the signal, and muttered something, pointing her wand at the dragon with a little flourish.
"What's she doing that for?" Ron demanded, disgusted by her lack of sense. "Dragons are impervious to most types of magic — evenI know that!"
"Oh, I'm not sure that was wise," called Bagman.
"Whatever that spell was, it looks like an exception," Hermione said, her eyes round circles that matched her mouth. "It looks like it's working!"
The dragon was stumbling, blinking her large, lambent eyes as if sleepy, her mouth working in a wide yawn. But Ron found it hard to concentrate on the sight, amazing as it was. "You mean you don't recognize the spell? Hermione, are you feeling okay?"
In spite of the ongoing tension of the day, Ginny coughed on a laugh, only to hastily swallow another as Hermione blushed, casting her eyes to the side. "I . . . well . . . It's some sort of charm. . . ."
Before anyone could say anything else, the dragon swayed forward as if about to tumble to the ground, splitting with air with a surprising snore. Flames sizzled through the sound, racing after Fleur as she ran, clutching the egg.
"Careful now!" Bagman shouted, far too late.
The flames had already caught at the hem of Fleur's pale blue robes. Fleur hurriedly pointed her wand at the fire climbing the length of her plain skirt.
"She used a Water Charm," Hermione said, sounding relieved. Ron snorted. "You ought to know that. We learned it in class last week."
Ginny grinned, but she was too on edge to be really amused. Even Fred and George were strangely serious as Fleur stepped daintily over the line. The dragon's handlers caught her up— a process that seemed to take a long time, given the lack of struggle she gave them. They applauded her success sincerely, even Hermione, who wore a puckered expression her face. Ginny held her breath as she clapped, wondering if Harry would be next. She wished he would; maybe then she could enjoy the rest of the competition.
She wasn't surprised when Krum slouched out onto the field next and not Harry; it was her kind of luck. Krum watched the Chinese Fireball with a sort of slump-shouldered fatalism Ginny understood, more resigned than determined, more wary than afraid. He let her advance closer and closer.
Finally, Lee couldn't take the pressure. "Don't just stand there like a bump from a Beater's bat do something!" he shouted through cupped hands. Fred and George chuckled, but their laughter sounded a little strained.
"He's casting the Conjuctivitis Curse," said Ginny, startled by her own ability to recognize it. Professor Moody wasn't Remus Lupin. He didn't share Lupin's gift of relating to each student's needs, hopes, and fears; drawing them in through their interests and playing to their strengths, making lessons seem fun, but he was teaching them something. . .unlike the vacuous and vacillating blond booby, Lockhart. He'd shown the third years—Ginny included—that very curse just before Halloween.
The Chinese Fireball threw her head back, bellowing in pain as the curse hit its mark. "Look at that," Ron whistled. "Perfect aim!"
"That's why he was waiting," Ginny reflected slowly. "He was trying to draw it away from the eggs!"
"He didn't wait long enough then," Fred concluded. "Look!"
"Playing chicken with a dragon is nothing to squawk about," muttered George under his breath.
Tossing her head violently, the Fireball swayed from side to side as it lurched backward in the vain effort to escape the curse. The popping crack of the first egg made everyone in the stands start, the crowd's groan of commiseration lost in the dragon's trumpeting keen of outraged distress. She jigged helplessly about, trying to see what she had done, trying to decide between escape and attack.
Krum seemed somewhat taken aback, but he set his bemusement aside to run toward the eggs, toward the angry Fireball, toward the gushing chaos, looking anything but lethargic or apathetic. He rolled under the dragon's thundering feet, sliding through the sticky flood. Hermione gasped, and Ginny noticed she hadn't let go of Ron's arm. But then, he hadn't taken his hand of hers so she could, either. Any other time, Ginny would have gloated. Krum seized the egg, narrowly avoiding yet another slipping step of the still-maddened Fireball, and bounded forward, dodging burst of fire more like little shrieks than an actual effort to attack him.
"Wow! He is very athletic, isn't he?" Hermione breathed, looking stunned. Ginny stared at her a bit blankly, reminded of Hermione's inexplicable admiration for the erstwhile Professor Lockhart . . . though at least this admiration did have some basis in reality.
"Well, obviously," retorted Ron, sounding quite pleased, "I mean he'd have to be to catch the Snitch at the World Cup!"
"Yet another amazing feat by Viktor Krum," Bagman announced, stating the obvious, again a bit late. "Impressive effort, Mr. Krum.Quite a show! Unfortunately, the real eggs weren't supposed to be damaged, so I'm afraid the judges will be deducting some points for that."
Ron groaned, and even Hermione looked disappointed, but Ginny could hardly even concentrate long enough to hear the words, let alone make sense of them. Harry's turn had finally come.