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!
Met19—Big hearty welcome to a new reviewer! Yay:-) I can't wait for Book 5 (and 6) either...I'm really anxious to see how Ginny continues to grow and develop. In the meantime, hope you enjoy the new chapter, and review again. :-)
J.Rhaye—I missed you, girl! --hugs-- I really wanted to make the Task seem exciting...if this was a boring Tournament, it would be pretty hard to understand why it was such a big deal, so I'm glad you enjoyed it:-) And...here's hoping I can do justice to how much better seeing Harry always is...especially in Ginny's world! --winks--
EEDOE—I think I'm getting addicted to writing little moments between Ron and Hermione! We'll blame it on your excellent example. --winks-- One of my FAVORITE things about the HP series is Fred and George's excellent comedic timing, so I'm really happy you think I captured a little bit of it—thanks:-) --hugs--
Bill—WOW! --blushes-- What a nice thing to say. :-) I kind of miss my alliteration, too, now that you mention it. I wonder why I haven't been using it as much. Maybe Ginny's growing out of it? --frowns thoughtfully-- I'll have to have a talk with her about that! I hope this chapter isn't too much of a disappointment! Thanks for the support! --hugs--
Harry walked out of the Champions' tent looking even smaller than Fleur, if not as ridiculously delicate. Ginny had never seen him so pale—a state only underlined by the inky black presence of the looming Horntail; she almost expected his robes to start fading. Ginny was the one who was shaking now, and far more violently than Fleur had. She knew Hermione and Ron probably didn't look much better, but she couldn't turn her head to look at them.
Ginny felt weirdly separate from the group in the stands; she could hear them roaring all around her, but as if from a great distance. The reassuring heat radiating from Lee and Hermione seemed to have gone missing; she knew she was still sitting between them in the stands, but her knees were as weak and rubbery as though she were standing beside Harry. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to envision holding his hand as if it could offer them both some strength. Then, suddenly, she remembered vividly the feel of her hands wrapped around his, merging, over the hilt of a heavy silver sword, and she twitched so sharply it drew Ron's attention from the other side of Hermione. "Ginny, what—are you okay?" She might have responded, she was never really sure. . . .
Slowly, so very slowly, Harry raised his wand.
"Come on, Harry. You can do this . . . I know you can do this," Hermione was chanting under her breath like an incantation.
"C'mon, Harry--" Ginny heard Ron add his voice to Hermione's and knew Ron and Harry were friends again at last. . . Ginny wished she could have spared some part of her attention from the scene below long enough to register her relief at that. Even Fred, George, and Lee were wholly concentrated on the moment as Harry shouted an incantation of his own that was stolen by the wind.
Time seemed to stretch and bend around them in odd ways, so that it took forever for Harry's Firebolt to shoot over the horizon in an instant, neatly sweeping around the edge of the woods and dropping to hover in air beside him. Harry's hand reached for the broom almost before it had stopped, and he swung a leg over in a smooth motion; the sight would have made Ginny swoon if it hadn't also been watched by two huge, unblinking, sulfurous eyes. Those eyes burned her with hot memory, bringing bile to the back of her throat. Harry, however, seemed undaunted by both remembered basilisk and present Horntail. Ginny existed in a breath of admiration as refreshing as the air in her face during a stolen broom flight. Harry circled the pitch, coolly confident as ---
"He looks like he's just playing Quidditch," Lee said with an admiring whistle.
Harry dived in a swift motion very similar to the Wronski Feint they'd seen at the Quidditch Cup, drawing loud wolf calls of appreciation from the twins. The Horntail's massive black head wove close behind, breathing a burst of fire toward Harry. Ron groaned, Hermione gasped, and Ginny nearly bit through her lip in an effort not to scream, but Harry was already swerving neatly out of harm's way, ascending.
"Great Scott, can he fly!" yelled Bagman admiringly, "Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?"
Harry circled upward, making it easy to pretend he was only looking for the Snitch, just the Snitch . . . the Horntail's head followed his progress, looking like the cobras Ginny had seen in Egyptian snake charmers' baskets.
"If you're going to do something," Ginny moaned between gritted teeth, "hurry up and do it while you still have the advantage."
Harry had apparently come to the same conclusion; he dropped from the sky before she'd even finished the sentence. So did the Horntail. Her fiery missile shot close but harmlessly overhead. Determined as any woman, she rallied quickly, swinging her long, heavy tail like a Beater's bat the size of a suspension bridge.
"Look out, Harry!" Ron shouted so loudly Fred, George, and several other people leaned away covering their heads with their hands.
The long tail slapped Harry across the shoulder resoundingly, the impact buffeting his entire broom. Ginny knotted her fingers so tightly her nails bit into her palms and her knuckles bruised the skin that covered them. Harry darted behind the Horntail, making the dragon contort her body in the effort to keep her huge, yellow eyes fixed on him and the threat he represented.
"Is he crazy?" Hermione demanded, her voice coiled tightly as the rope in the snake charmers' basket Ginny had been reminded of. "Does he want her to attack him?"
And, with that, Ginny realized that he did. He was flying back and forth in front of the dragon, just as Ginny often pulled string to tease Crookshanks. The Horntail followed Harry, not just with her eyes, but with her whole head, the way Crookshanks followed Ginny's string. Any minute now, the Horntail would pounce—
"Yes, he does," said Ginny, in dawning comprehension, drawing blank looks from her companions.
But the dragon was already beginning to demonstrate, hovering a few inches off the ground, straining after Harry . . . then a few feet --- She roared angrily, frustrated that Harry was still out of her reach. Her tail thrashed just as Crookshanks' might. In a final desperate attempt to get what she wanted without leaving her eggs, the dragon snorted fire into the air. Harry dodged it neatly. He had obviously expected as much.
Exasperated beyond caution, the dragon gathered her huge black wings and vaulted into the air, throwing her winds wide so they cast a chilling shadow over the pitch. No sooner had she begun to leap than Harry dived again, sharper, faster, and more sure than Ginny had ever seen him.
He reached out and plucked up the golden egg as casually as if it had been the Snitch, making it look as though he'd done it all with great ease . . . and then he was flying, soaring swift and unimpeded, so achingly, beautifully free, Ginny wanted to weep.
Ron was already on his feet, pulling Hermione, who still clung to his arm, with him. Fred, George, and Lee weren't far behind; Lee lifting Ginny with him much as Ron had Hermione. Ginny leaned into his much-needed hug as people all around them continued to surge upward, all yelling at the tops of their lungs.
"Look at that!" Bagman boomed overhead, "Will you look at that? Our youngest champion was the quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!"
"We're going to congratulate Harry," Hermione shouted directly into Ginny's ear, the words still faint in the deafening noise of the crowd. "Coming?"
Ginny took a half step. She wanted to see Harry -- more than anything.
But -- if she saw him with the image of that sinuous black dragon twisting above him, trapping him in those sulfurous black eyes, she knew she wouldn't be able to hold herself back, wouldn't be able to restrain herself from collapsing into his arms and never letting go. . . . Worse, she was going to burst into tears. She sat down again and swallowed hard, nose and eyes suddenly stinging. Hermione sighed and might have tried to protest but Ron was already dragging her away.
It was just as well she hadn't gone, upon reflection. Ron would be the only sight Harry really wanted to see, and it probably wouldn't have endeared her to either of them — let alone herself — if she'd interfered with their reunion. Especially if a nervous breakdown was how she went about it.
Ginny was content with sitting near Lee and the twins, aware of their conversation but not really listening. She took deep breaths and repeated, 'It's over, Harry's fine,' over and over and over again under her breath until Hermione reappeared. It didn't take long; Hermione apparently came to the same conclusion regarding Ron and Harry's reunion as Ginny had.
"You should have seen them," Hermione told her between sniffles. "Acting as if nothing had happened! I'm—I'm just so—so glad they're finally talking to each other again—But why—must—men—be—so—so...stubborn?" She slapped her handerkerchief against her leg for punctuation and flopped wearily to the bench beside Ginny. At which Ginny, tension temporarily dispelled, had to laugh.
After a bit, Ron and Harry appeared long enough to reclaim Hermione. Harry sported a long tear in his robes, but looked quite fit with Madam Pomfrey having worked her magic.
Before they were even out of sight, the twins began to grin—identical, evil grins that made Ginny grin, too. Her heart raced.
"Okay. George and I --" Fred began crisply.
"Will make a trip to Honeyduke's in Hogsmeade," finished George.
Ginny started to protest, but they each held up a hand — exactly in time — to stop her.
"That was quite a performance young Potter pulled off there," George reminded her.
"He's earned a butterbeer," Fred charmed her.
"No arguments here," Ginny said. "I just wanted to know how you think you're going to --"
"Ah, ah, ah," said George.
"We love you, little sister," said Fred.
"Darling, innocent, little Gingersnaps," crooned George, stroking her hair.
"But if we told you that," Fred continued, shaking his head.
"We'd have to curse you," George sighed, shaking his.
"And we really don't want to have to do that," they finished together.
"Well, in that case," Ginny snorted, "carry on. You were saying?"
"Lee will organize the troops, and you, Gingersnaps, are headed to the kitchens."
"You call that a mission?" scoffed Ginny, who rather liked the kitchens, already on her way.