Chapter Seventeen

Κεφάλαιο Δεκαεπτά

(Kefálaio Dekaeptá)

The next morning before breakfast, when Jude went to go see her fathers and show off her new wand, she was also absently wondering who would make a better god of theatre – Father or Ollivander. She leant towards Ollivander, mainly because he was less likely to smite her if she told him that to his face. She loved her Father, she did, but he did have a god's temper. Unsurprising, seeing as he was one, all the same, though, it came off as being more than a bit spoilt. She kept that thought carefully hidden though.

Knocking loudly, Jude smiled brightly when Hades opened the door, scowling at her. Oops, hope Daddy didn't pick up that stray thought.

"Hello Daddy, are Dad and Father still in bed? I wanted to show you my wand."

The god of the Underworld gave his only living daughter a mild glare, before stepping out of the way and letting her into the office where Zeus, Posiedon, and someone whose head Jude couldn't see were sitting. And there was a chair left out for her. Jude couldn't be sure whether that was a bad or a good thing . . . . It was a bit like having your own ironic coffee mug right by the espresso machine in the principals office because you were there so often. Still, it wouldn't do to be impolite – for all Jude knew, the other person might be Auntie Hera, and she tended to . . . prefer . . . people to use proper manners in her presence.

Sitting down, Jude glanced at the other person, then did her best to keep her face blank, instead focusing on her fathers. When they were all seated, she gave them all a deep bow of the head and presented her wand. The three-faced woman, Hekate, snatched it up and began examining it. Jude bit down hard on her lip to keep from snarling at the Goddess of Magic, but it was a close thing. Her Dad, at least, seemed to have noticed, and gave her a slightly amused look. Jude ignored it. God he may be, but no non-wizard would understand how close a witch was to her wand. She heavily suspected Hekate did understand that, though; however, the goddess just didn't care. Jude hoped she at least blessed it.

"Very good craftsmanship. It will serve you well," came the woman's triune voice. Jude jumped slightly in her seat. She hadn't quite expected the compliment. Nor the voice, for that matter.

"Thank you, my Lady," she murmured, taking back her wand. "I made it myself."

Hekate smiled at her. "Very good. A wand made by its owner will always be a perfect match. It will also be very unlikely anyone else will ever be able to use it. Now, tell me about your plans for this little tournament?"

Jude glanced between her fathers and her . . . well, Jude wasn't quite sure what her relation was to Hekate, other than that of some degree of cousin. Second, maybe? At any rate, the messy-haired Camp Half-Blood Champion looked between her cousin and her fathers, took a small breath, and began to talk. To speak and to weave her tale, her plans, and her thoughts. She didn't tell them everything, oh no. She wasn't ready to do that, as of yet. She did, however, tell them all she had learned researching the Tournament, and the themes the Tasks usually followed, and her guesses at what each one would be. She spoke of how she might defend against a dragon or a manticore or a chimaera. How she'd figure out a puzzle, a riddle, or find a loophole that would let her win. How she'd survive retrieving something through water, wind, snow, fire, ice and rock. Jude spoke until her mouth was dry and she was sent to classes, several hours late. And at the last, she added, "I might do all those things, plus there's probably things I haven't even considered yet, left over. And if they find out I'm not exactly as human as the other contestants, there could be trouble." She thought about that for a moment, "I don't know as I'd actually mind trouble as long as I have fun with it..."

It was odd. Though she'd by no means told her secrets, she felt . . . lighter, happier, after talking to her older female relative. Something about Hekate just made Jude want to spill everything. Perhaps she'd do it again sometime. Maybe.

"Of course dear, three are any number of things that males don't really comprehend all that well..." Hekate smiled in a way that every female on the planet has, at one time or another, aimed at male in their own power base or social group, to the utter regret of the males involved. Strife re-learned that lesson every time he annoyed that one mortal woman...what was her name? Oh, yes...Xena.

JP

"I officially hate Hogwarts," Jude moaned under her breath as she and Clarisse trudged to the Camp building. It was just after Arithmancy, and Jude had scrambled from the classroom (and away from Granger) as fast as her admittedly long legs would carry her. She'd found her friend, and was going with her to have lunch with the rest of the Half-Bloods. The Campers all tried to eat at the dining pavilion set up next to their temporary home at least once a day, since Dumbledore had vetoed their request to have a bonfire or a brazier in the Hogwarts Great Hall so that they could sacrifice some of their food for the gods. Apparently Hogwarts 'did not approve of overt displays of religion, except their own and then on proscribed days for it. Bringing in foreign gods make some people uncomfortable' and the Headmaster was 'terribly sorry,' but he 'could not make exceptions' for them.

Which was all well and good; if Hogwarts didn't celebrate Christmas, Easter, and other Christian holidays throughout the year. Jude wasn't the only one that thought that the old man was a git, now. Hogwarts might just provide them for an excuse to have excess candy around, though, now that she thought about it. How that man could eat THAT much sugar...

"Why?" Clarisse asked, smirking. "It's 'the premier school of magic in the world, with the best classes and everything!' Aren't you regretting going to Beauxbatons instead?"

"Oh, quit the sarcasm," Jude snarled to her friend, "Hogwarts is crap. They don't even have a standard course of study or student councilors! Have the teachers are total nutjobs. Seriously, the classes I've been taking so far are horrible. And now Madame Maxime wants me to Take Divinations with Gabby because she's the only one at Beauxbatons there, and the woman's afraid she won't be able to defend herself or some such nonsense if someone comes after her now that her Veela charm is coming in."

Clarisse snorted. "Divinations? What, like Prophecy? Like Austin and Kayla's dad would give any of these idiots the gift."

Jude shrugged. "Apparently some families are known for having it. Mortal-borns are much more likely to be gifted, though. My guess is they're descended from a Half-Blood. Maybe we can get their dad to come by, see what's claiming to be one of his and make a big production out of denying it...."

"So why's the Princess taking it?" Clarisse asked, snarling slightly when she referred to the little Delacour girl. "That's stupid."

"No clue. But, Madame will find a way to get me in there with her some way or another. I'm just wondering how insulted Apollo and Hekate are going to be when they find out about the class, if they haven't already I could send a note..." the short witch replied, serving herself some grapes, barbecue, cheese, and bread. She sucked on her lip, then grabbed a bit more of the barbecue as well. "Someone should sure tell them what's being done in their name, that's a no-no if you don't want to get fried."

The two girls stopped talking for a short while when they offered up the best parts of their lunch, dropping it into the fire, and saying their fathers' names. Then they made their way to the single table that had been set up – it was slightly hard to get used to, but having a bunch of tables with only one, maybe two people sitting at them was just silly.

"Anyway, what are you going to do for the First Task thing?"

Jude gave Clarisse her best big-eyed, innocent look. "Clarisse," she said, putting her hands over her heart. "The First task is a test of nerve, of daring, of courage in the farce of the unknown, of... "

Clarisse cut her off. "Of how stupid you are, yeah, I get it. Do you think the others do, though?"

Jude pouted at the larger girl, then straightened up, saying haughtily, "No, and anyway, what d'you think I'm going to do? I'm going to cheat of course. Duh."

"There's the Jude I know and love."

"Oh, shut up."

"This is ridiculous!"

"Completely and utterly ridiculous!" Jude yelled as she skimmed the newspaper someone had left out on the table in the Great Hall. Gabby leaned over her shoulder, vaguely muttering about hating reading English.

Fleur looked up from her and Marie's paper, eyebrow raised. "What? Surely Jude, you did not expect for the British to make little fuss at your . . . " The half-Veela glanced at her paper, then quoted, "'glorious return to your homeland'? Jude, you are smarter than that!"

Jude scowled into her oatmeal, then stood abruptly. "I saw it when I was getting dressed and there's going be an owl delivering a retainer's fee to a lawyer to field these and drive the finer points of INTERNATIONAL LAW into these idiot's heads...with a sledgehammer if need be." she snarled, giving her schoolmates a curt nod as she passed, muttering, 'The idiots didn't even notice that I'm not a British citizen any longer, or that I've already been legally adopted." As she stormed past Snape. Nobody could figure out why suddenly, several moments after she'd left the hall, he started pointing at Albus and laughing.

Marie smirked at her best friend. "I believe you owe me three galleons, chere?"

Fleur pouted, though her brunette friend smiled pleasantly as the gold clinked down into her palm.

Poseidon was bored.

Very, very bored. It was another week or so until anything happened with the Tournament, and the god of the sea was going a little stir-crazy at Hogwarts. "Blast it all," he muttered, and strode away, intent on leaving the castle to either learn more about Hekate's strange decendants, or to get drunk.

"And who might you be, handsome?"

Old Salt smiled at the loudly-dressed blonde in front of him. He found her rather pretty. "Poseidon Ambrosiadis, at your service, milady. And who might you be?"

The blonde woman giggled. "Rita Skeeter. Say, aren't you the owner of that American school Judida Potter went to?"

The dark-haired man smiled at the woman. "My brothers and I own it, yes."

"That must be fascinating, helping all those children, with such diverse magical talents. Are you particularly close to any of them?"

"My sons and daughter, though I do interact with all of the kids."

"You're married?" The blonde seemed rather put out by this, and Poseidon quickly reassured her.

"No, no I'm not. Percy and Tyson are from previous relationships I've had, and Jude is my blood-adopted daughter."

Rita's eyes became round as coins. "You adopted the Girl Who Lived?" she asked, leaning closer to Poseidon. And giving him a rather nice view, at that.

"My brothers and I all did, Miss Skeeter."

"Call me Rita," the reporter smiled. Poseidon grinned widely at her.

"Care for a drink?"

Fade to Black . . .

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! FATHER, DON'T JUST SIT THERE, DO SOMETHING!"

Gabby jumped, falling from her seat by the Beauxbatons carriage. "Jude! What eez eet!" She snapped, half worried and rubbing the ear her friend had screamed into. Jude just thrust her newspaper at the blonde held her head, moaning.

"Ew, ew, ew, ew, ewwww . . . . that is so wrong . . . "

Gabrielle looked at the front page. "Oooohhh . . . DO you want me to get your Papa, to 'ave 'im explain?"

"No. No, no, no. I do not want to know why that . . . that is in that Skeeter woman's column. 'Sex god,' Merde! Murder me . . . "

Gabrielle patted her friends arm and slowly backed away. She would ask Fleur to explain all of this to her . . .

"ER, I NEED JUDY POTTER!"

The Camp Half-Blood students all turned to the source of the yell, a lanky, red haired boy in a second-hand Hogwarts robe. Weasley.

"Who're you, runt?" Clarisse snapped off, making the boy turn red.

"Ron Weasley. I need Judy."

"Too bad!"

"Claire," Jude reprimanded slightly. She turned to the boy. "And why should I go with you? You're not from either of my schools, I don't know you . . . give me a reason."

"Dumbledore-"

"Oh, DUMBLEDORE! I mean, of course I'll go with you now. Never mind that he has no need whatsoever to be involved with me outside of judging my performance in the Tasks!"

A few of the Campers were chuckling, and Clarisse and Nico were both just laughing out loud at the poor sod's face.

"It is for the, erm, the Tri-Wizar-"

"And you didn't say that . . . why?" Jude snorted. "Never mind. What about it?"

"I think it's for . . . pictures?"

"Deum. Fin, let's go. Now, come on! Lead the way!"

Jude took a lot of pleasure from brow-beating Ron Weasley, yes she did.

"Thanks, Weasley, I'll sure know who to call from now on!" Jude called over her shoulder as the youngest Weasley son ran away after escorting her to the Weighing of the Wands. The boy just ran faster...a lot faster.

Stepping inside, Jude saw that she was in a fairly small classroom; most of the desks had been pushed away to the back of the room, leaving a large space in the middle; three of them, however, had been placed end-to-end in front of the blackboard and covered with a long length of velvet. Eight chairs had been set behind the velvet-covered desks, and Ludo Bagman was sitting in one of them, talking to a positively grinning Rita Skeeter, who was wearing magenta robes.

Viktor Krum was standing moodily in a corner as usual and not talking to anybody. Cedric and Fleur were in conversation. Fleur looked a good deal happier than Jude had seen her outside of the Beauxbatons carriage in some time; she kept throwing back her head so that her long silvery hair caught the light. Of course. She was flirting. In other words, dazzling the competition to distract him.

A paunchy man, holding a large black camera that was smoking slightly, was watching Fleur out of the corner of his eye. Judida never had learnt his name . . .

Bagman suddenly spotted Jude, got up quickly, and bounded forward.

"Ah, here she is! Champion number four! In you come, Judy, in you come… nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment -"

Jude pulled herself out of Bagman's grasp, slammed her knee in his crotch good and square and shove him away. "For the love of Olympus! What the hell, get your slimey hands off me! Pervert!"

Fleur rushed over and grabbed Jude, half pushing, half carrying her away from the crouched over Ministry employee, and sat her down on one of the chairs in the room, checking her over for any injuries. She only found a small bruise, and that was from sword practice.

At this point, Jude's fathers came in, oblivious to the past few minutes' happenings, though Poseidon did give Jude a questioning glance when he saw Bagman practically on the floor, doubled up in pain. It appeared that the middle of the three brothers was still being hounded over the article Skeeter had written . . . and, more importantly, the effect it had had on Jude. Hysterics from their baby girl did not make the two brothers feel too kindly toward their sibling. It also made the Sea God feel guilty. She could use that later, if she was careful.

"Zo," Fleur asked loudly, now that all the judges, bar Dumbledore were there, "What eez ze point of all of zis? What are we doing?"

Crouch strode forward from around his desk, and answered, "We must to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, as they are your most important tools in the tasks ahead. The expert is upstairs now with Dumbledore now. There will going to be a small photo session, as the Daily Prophet is doing an article on the Tri-Wizard proceedings thus far. This is Rita Skeeter," he added, gesturing toward the magenta-robed witch. "She is writing the piece . . . "

"And quite the piece it will be, Barty," said Rita Skeeter, her eyes flickering between Jude and Poseidon.

Her hair was set in elaborate and curiously rigid curls that contrasted oddly with her heavy-jawed face. She wore jeweled spectacles. The thick fingers clutching her crocodile-skin handbag ended in two-inch nails, painted crimson. Poseidon was determinedly not looking at her, and Jude had to wonder why he ever had in the first place. Had he been pissed or something?

"I wonder if I could have a little word with Judy before we start?" she said to Crouch, but still gazing fixedly at Jude. "The youngest champion, you know… to add a bit of color?"

"Certainly!" cried Bagman. "That is - if Judy has no objection?"

"Hell no, unlike some people I won't name, I don't go in for private chats with woman that look like harpies and sound worse, and that's our version of them, btw."Jude snarled. "Leave me alone or I'll let you have to talk to Father about it."

Hades raised his eyebrows, and the mortal judges all seemed surprised as well. Rita was looking distinctly put out.

"Well," the reporter said, righting herself again after catching her breath at the depth of the insult. "I suppose we'll just have to make do with Mister Diggory, now won't we?" And in a second, her scarlet-taloned fingers had Cedric's upper arm in a surprisingly strong grip, only to have the boy turn himself out of it at the last second.

"Why not just interview any of us with the others as witnesses for all of the rest of us," he asked pleasantly, though his face was hard. Good on him, Jude thought. He'd apparently read Skeeter's trash before, and had known when it was rubbish.

After a bit of chatter between the reporter and the Champions, during which Hades watched Rita very harshly – she wrote with a normal quill this time, Jude noticed – Dumbledore came in with Ollivander, and the point of all of this – the Wand Weighing – began.

"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" said Mr. Ollivander, stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room.

Fleur Delacour swept over to Mr. Ollivander and handed him her wand.

"Hmm…" he said.

He twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. Then he held it chose to his eyes and examined it carefully.

"Yes," he said quietly, "nine and a half inches… inflexible… rosewood… and containing… dear me…"

"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela," said Fleur. "One of my grandmuzzer's."

"Yes," said Mr. Ollivander, "yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands… however, to each his own, and if this suits you…"

Jude began to feel a headache coming on. This was going to be a lot of déjà vu, she just knew it would . . . She massaged the bridge of her nose wearily.

Mr. Ollivander ran his fingers along the wand, apparently checking for scratches or bumps; then he muttered, "Orchideous!" and a bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip.

"Very well, very well, it's in fine working order," said Mr. Ollivander, scooping up the flowers and handing them to Fleur with her wand. "Mr. Diggory, you next." Fleur glided back to her seat, smiling at Cedric as he passed her.

"Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it?" said Mr. Ollivander, with much more enthusiasm, as Cedric handed over his wand. "Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn… must have been seventeen hands; nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail. Twelve and a quarter inches… ash… pleasantly springy. It's in fine condition… You treat it regularly?"

"Polished it last night," said Cedric, grinning. The boy had to have known about the Wand Weighing before hand, Jude thought grumpily, he had to. No-one had that sort of luck! Unless he did that every night . . . Strange boy. Still, Jude was quite happy – she'd actually polished her wand this time around, so that meant no embarrassing sparks flying out.

Mr. Ollivander sent a stream of silver smoke rings across the room from the tip of Cedric's wand, pronounced himself satisfied, and then said, "Mr. Krum, if you please."

Viktor Krum got up and slouched, round-shouldered and duck-footed, toward Mr. Ollivander. He thrust out his wand and stood scowling, with his hands in the pockets of his robes.

"Hmm," said Mr. Ollivander, "this is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I'm much mistaken? A fine wand-maker, though the styling is never quite what I… however…"

He lifted the wand and examined it minutely, turning it over and over before his eyes.

"Yes… hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" he shot at Krum, who nodded. "Rather thicker than one usually sees… quite rigid… ten and a quarter inches… Avis!"

The hornbeam wand let off a blast hike a gun, and a number of small, twittering birds flew out of the end and through the open window into the watery sunlight.

"Good," said Mr. Ollivander, handing Krum back his wand. "Which leaves… Miss Potter? Or would it be Potter-Ambrosiadis?"

"Both work, Sir," Jude smiled, getting to her feet and striding over to the wandmaker. "I trust it is in good condition?" She smirked. It should be, it had just been to the shop!

"Aaaah, yes," said Mr. Ollivander, his pale eyes suddenly gleaming. "Yes, yes, yes. How well I remember. A personal favourite of mine, white oak, exactly eleven inches, with a rather unusual core . . . "

Jude really hooped the old man wouldn't say anymore; she had a funny feeling that Rita Skeeter's Quick-Quotes Quill might just explode with excitement if he did.

Mr. Ollivander spent much longer examining Jude's wand than anyone else's. Eventually, however, he made a fountain of wine shoot out of it, and handed it back to Jude, announcing that it was still in perfect condition. Jude made a mental note to perform that spell in front of Mr D, just to see how he'd react to it.

"Thank you all," said Dumbledore, standing up at the judges' table. "You may go back to your lessons now - or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they are about to end-"

Jude had that sense of déjà vu again, and did not move, smirking when the man with the black camera jumped up and cleared his throat. Headaches she may have, but the dreams from Judida didn't hurt too much.

"Photos, Dumbledore, photos!" cried Bagman excitedly. "All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?"

"Er - yes, let's do those first," said Rita Skeeter, whose eyes were upon Jude again. "And then perhaps some individual shots."

"Let's not," Jude growled. She always had disliked having her picture taken, though she did let her friends and family do it – occasionally. And usually only in a group photo. "You don't get me unless all Father, Dad and Daddy ALSO agree to be in it. Between you and that pervert..."

Rita pouted.

The photographs took a long time. Madame Maxime cast everyone else into shadow wherever she stood, and the photographer couldn't stand far enough back to get her into the frame; eventually she had to sit while everyone else stood around her. Karkaroff kept twirling his goatee around his finger to give it an extra curl; Krum, whom Jude would should be used to this sort of thing, as an international sports star, skulked, half-hidden, at the back of the group. The photographer seemed keenest to get Fleur at the front, but Rita Skeeter kept hurrying forward and dragging Jude into greater prominence, and Jude kept an snatching herself away and standing at the back near Krum. Rita stopped it after Hades made her pause and looked her in the eye...now rather, she hid behind Jude to get away from Hades. Viktor found this endlessly amusing, as his lips kept twitching in amusement. At last, however, they were free to go.

All four Champions booked it out of there, leaving anyone above the age of twenty coughing in the dust.

"Mihs Poh-terr?"

"Judith! Judith Porter!"

Jude groaned into her hand, "Mister D . . . "

Marie patted her hand. Gabby was still messing with her stola – the little Veela had never seen Ancient Greek clothing before, and was absolutely in love with it, much to Jude's annoyance and amusement. She was beginning to wish she'd burned the dress-like thing on sight when she was told it was what she was going to wear for the task – much like the other students would wear special robes signifying their school. "You weell do per-fehct-lee, Jude. Do not worry."

Jude didn't have the chance to reply as Clarisse picked her up under her arms and carried the girl in front of her to the god of Wine.

"Good luck, twerp," the daughter of Ares whispered as she set her down, shoving an apple in her hand. "And eat something, before you faint and look like an idiot."

Jude smiled and looked to Dionysus. "Time for me to go?"

Mr D nodded and motioned for Jude to follow him from the hall.

"You got my name wrong again."

"Just don't embarrass yourself or us by extension...or me for payback."

Jude smirked. "Of course not."

Jude made a face at the dragon in her palm. Damn the Fates.

She glanced at her fathers and grinned. All three were looking at her as if she'd just lost her mind, and was asking them to find it for her. Apparently they did recognize that dragons were dangerous to people that weren't, oh, gods. Jude just winked at them, since she had wondered about that, then grinned wider at the Hungarian Horntail currently making curious little whuffling noises into her palm. It was sort of cute, in a way.

"Um, Father, could I..."

"NO." Hades interrupted before she could finish, "You may NOT have one for a pet."

"Daddy!"

"Forget it, I said NO."

Everyone was staring at her and anyone who knew both of them, were now dead sure she was even barmier than Dumbledore.

"Well, there you are!" Bagman cheered jovially. "You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now, I'm going to have to leave you in a moment, because I'm commentating. Mr. Diggory, you're first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right? Now… Judy… could I have a quick word? Outside?"

Jude studiously ignored the stupid gambler, favouring instead to walk over to her fathers, grinning at her miniature dragon as she nudged it with her finger. Her hair did, however, take on a slight dark red sheen, showing her anger and irritation toward the former beater.

"Judy? Miss Potter?"

Jude, who had been sitting down, leaning slightly on Hades, looked up when Bagman referred to her by a name she would actually answer to. "Yes, Mister . . . I'm sorry, I forgot your name? Bagful, wasn't it?"

Bagman looked slightly put out, but brightened up quickly. "Bagman, Judy. Ludo Bagman, former beater for the Wimbourne Wasps, and current Head of the Department of Magical Sports and Games." He gave a slight bow.

Jude looked around curiously for a few minutes, before asking in a perfectly genuine tone, "I'm sorry Mister Bagnold, but are you talking to me? Because my name isn't Judy. It's Jude."

Bagman slouched slightly; this conversation obviously wasn't going the way he wanted it to. "Yes, er, terribly sorry. At any rate, if I could please talk to you outside? Alone?"

Hades tightened his hold on Jude, and asked in a pleasant voice, "Has my daughter done something wrong, Mister Bagman? Because that had better be the ONLY reason you would like to speak with her."

Jude tried not to smirk when Bagman looked her Daddy in the eyes. It seemed the mortal regretted this immediately. He might not know what, exactly he was looking at, but he knew it was dangerous. Bagman looked as though he was about to wet himself. One wonders how Hades would have responded had he known that the mortal now considered him an 'it'.

"Er, no – no, Mister Ambrosiadis. I, er, was not aware that Miss Potter had been, er, adopted? Just wanted to wish her luck. Is all. Um . . . excuse me, I'm needed outside... "

Jude rolled her eyes and began playing with the miniature dragon again. Daddy just loved any excuse there was to scare someone. Really, he wasn't that bad . . . when you'd been around him for a while, at any rate. Then again, Nico was still slightly uncomfortable around him . . . who knew why, exactly. Daddy was a perfect softie, if approached right. She looked up at him, using her 'puppy dog eyes', spaniel version and watch him melt.

Oh, okay, she was just a little weird, she could, after all, do the same thing to any of her male parents...and just as easily. Of course, what Jude didn't realize was the effect that one's child could have on a male parent, when that child was both the youngest by several years and female. It was part of that whole 'daddy's baby girl' thing.

Jude wondered if any gods other than her dads, Mr D, and possibly Hekate would be watching. She thought Ares might, if only to see if somebody would be eaten.

A whistle blew, and Bagman jumped up, shouting about having to go somewhere. Déjà vu, here we come. Jude thought, as her fathers stood up regally and walked out of the tent after the man, obviously none of them hurried.

Jude sat there, playing with her dragon, not looking as though she had a care in the world for a while, only vaguely noticing when Fleur squeezed her shoulder and left, and when she wished the blonde good luck in return. She heard the whistle blow for her.

She stood up, vaguely noticing that her legs were shaking before she squashed her nervousness viciously. "Oh, I'm gonna puke after this . . . " she said to herself, not caring if she sounded crazy. Gripping her wand and wishing it was her shield, her knife, or a sword – something specifically not a stick of wood.

.

Okay, the dragon was bigger than she remembered. Jude squeaked in fear as the Horntail looked down her (very, very large) snout at her. Jude took a deep breath, unscrewed her face, and walked slowly and respectfully toward the nesting dragon, ignoring the crowd – though, why was Dumbledore blue? He looked like Papa Smurf. She stopped when the Horntail began to hiss angrily, protecting her eggs with her tail.

Jude dared not look the dragon in the eye and hissed at it, hoping that her poor attempts at a dragon call actually sounded enough like one that the Horntail wouldn't immediately attack her. The Horntail started snarling, leaning closer to her, nostrils flared.

'Possible means of communicating with dragons. One – Dragon calls. Useful for approaching Wild Dragons. Humans find it hard to replicate exact dragon calls, which can be problematic since neither side is likely to know what is being said. Dragon whistles [see page 151] can be used instead, but a thorough grounding in the language of wild dragons is essential first,' Jude remembered. Of course! She needed to sound more like dragon, less like a snake. She wasn't concentrating enough – she'd studied this. She could do it.

Jude took another deep breath and let out a long stream of – what sounded to the audience – snarling, hissing growls and whistles. Not quite snakelike, but the undertone was definitely there. Jude had found that the Serpent and Dragon languages were frightfully similar to learn, though disastrous to mix up. "Please, Mother Dragon, I wish you no harm," she said slowly, loudly, and clearly. To prove her point, Jude knelt down and pulled out her wand, being careful not to point it anywhere near the nesting mother. The Horntail still snarled warily, not answering.

Jude set her wand on the ground, just within her reach, but far enough away that the Horntail would see that Jude couldn't use it as a threat. Jude then put her hands out, palms toward the ground, and began to concentrate on the powers she had received from her Daddy. He had domain over the Underworld, and all in it – including precious stones and metals.

"I will not hurt or harm, or attempt to hurt or harm, your eggs or you. That is not why I am here. I am here to correct a wrong done to you." She told the dragoness. She didn't want the creature irritated with HER, after all.

"I am Jude, Daughter of the Zeus, Daughter of Poseidon and Daughter of Hades...though if you want to know how that happened, later, ask Father. To show my True Goodwill, let me present you with these gifts for those of Olympus still pass this lore down to their Mortal Children."

Anyone watching could see the Dragoness' clear interest, it had been many centuries since a child of godheads had given a dragon a polite greeting, after all.

Pulling up one hand, Jude showed the dragon a large, greenish-black coloured sphere and rolled it toward the dragon. The stone stopped at the edge of her nest. "Obsidian, for you and your dragonets. It is not a trick of a stone – it is as real as I am before you. As is this." Jude pulled up her other hand, simultaneously flipping the other palm back down. "An Amethyst, to use as you will," the Half-Blood said clearly, still not looking up. She rolled the large purple gem to the dragon, and flipped her hand down. "And Blue Lace Agate," Jude presented, flipping both hands up to show another stone sphere – exactly the same size as the other two.

This time Jude stood up and walked slowly to the dragon, still talking, reassuring her that she meant no harm, She reached the edge of the nest and placed the stone in the Horntail's nest, dutifully ignoring the raging crowd's rise in volume as the dragon put her snout closer to the ground and began to sniff at first the stone, then Jude, before blowing out a puff of smoke and leaning away slightly.

Jude did the same thing with the other stones, just holding them up to be sniffed, first. When she was done, she gave a low curtsy and hissed, "Mother Dragon, I and four other human children...for none of us are yet a score of years in age, were given the same task today. We are to take a false egg from your nest and your sisters'. I am the last one. Please, may I show you the false, indeed only an egg-shaped object and not an egg at all, that some amongst more foolhardy of the adult male wizards hid among your children?"

The Horntail roared, and flame shot out her nostrils. Jude closed her eyes, ready to bring up a wall of obsidian to protect herself., if need be. Seconds passed, and Jude felt warm air blow toward her. She cracked open one eye. The Horntail . . . was leaning down and was literally at eye level with her. Her eye was bigger than Jude was! The tiny half blood fought back beginning hysterics.

"SHOW ME, CHILD. . . wizards, are apparently still stupid, they were no better five centuries ago. Witches are smarter, usually." The Horntail snarled lightly. She had a very soft, growling voice, though the Olympian Champion did not doubt it could easily become a deafening roar if angered. Jude nodded earnestly and slowly walked around the Horntail's head to reach the nest. She flinched when she saw the extremely large fangs in the Horntail's mouth. The crown was deathly silent. When she finally got to the hot, rocky nest, Jude carefully climbed in, pausing at every low growl and noise the Horntail made, and carefully navigated around the edge, not having the nerve whatsoever to so much as touch the real eggs. Finally she got to the golden egg, the one closest to the judges table, and gestured to it, softly growling to the Horntail to get her attention.

The great black dragon leaned closer and sniffed it. For a moment, there was nothing.

And then the Horntail roared.

Fire was blown into the sky as the Horntail's eyes took on a venomous red rage, her cries split the air itself.

And then it was over. In less than a second, the Hungarian Horntail had ceased her screams and her head snaked to the judges table and she looked them in the eye.

"Die!" She hissed.

The Horntail then shot her muzzle at the golden egg and took it in her mighty jaws, the gold crunching slightly in her grip. For a moment, Jude feared that the dragon would destroy it, but no, the dragon just gave a snap of her giant neck, and the egg went flying across the enclosure, leaving a slightly smoking hole in the conjured rock walls. Well, at least she'd be able to get at it.

Jude curtsied to the Horntail once more, and backed away slowly, never turning her back to the dragon as she made her way over to the wall. The Horntail curled protectively over her real eggs and watched both the judges and Jude with one thing clear in her gaze; it they tried anything, the Horntail did not care how bitter humans tasted. They would be the next item on her current menu.

Jude turned to the hole now, and put out her hands. The fake rocks rumbled and shook slightly, but the gold egg came slowly, ever so slowly, into her outstretched hands. Jude really hoped the hot metal wouldn't give her another burn to hide.

And all of a sudden, the crowd began to cheer. To cheer, and whoop, and yell. Jude distinctly heard Clarisse scream her congratulations.

Ten minutes later, Jude was at the entrance to the medical tent with Gabby, Fleur, Marie, Clarisse, and all three of her siblings.

Squinting across the field, the eight students watched as Madame Maxime shot up her score for Jude – a large silver ribbon twisted itself into a ten above the woman's head.

"YES!" Gabby cheered, giving her sister a hug before freezing, her eyes wide as galleons. "Ehrm . . . "

Fleur laughed. "Congratulations Jude. You deezairve eet."

Crouch was next. A nine. There was much hissing and booing from the Americans.

"Male parent's of mine, am I close enough to a priestess to wish a Damning on that Mortal?" Jude slapped a hand over her fellow Camper's mouth, shushing her, while she asked, making eye contact with each of the three. Clarisse licked her palm. Jude kicked her, "Hush, I'm trying to get a serious answer here."

Dumbledore put up . . . a five. Now there was a lot of yelling and derogatory words being yelled at Dumbledore. Jude yelled one or two that had Gabby smiling rather scarily. Jude really should've remembered how much the little non-angel-even-if-she-did-look-it liked dirty words. The dark haired half blood felt like she should have expected the score. After all, Parseltongue was a 'Dark' gift, and it wasn't like the old man would be able to differentiate between that and Dragon-speak, the half human, Rat-bastard...she paused, wait...how did she know that? She did know it, but how? And how to prove it?

Karforoff gave her a ten. So did Bagman. Jude was shocked, and grinned like a fool when Marie gave her a death hug™. Finally, it was just her fathers' vote. Oh, she hoped they wouldn't count her off since she didn't actually fight the dragon or do something else, equally flashy . . . .

She'd bet ten golden drachmas that her Father considered it. And she would bet ten more that her Daddy either did, or wanted to, slap him upside the head.

Ten. TEN. TEN! THEY GAVE HER A TEN!

"AAAAIIIIIEEEE!" Jude squealed, jumping up and giving all of her friends the tightest hugs she could manage.

TO BE CONTINUED