A/N: It's been a while, but I haven't forgotten about this story. I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to restart writing, but I'm back now. Where did we leave off last time…

Ah yes, the first task of the Triwizard Tournament.

Unfortunately, I still do not own Harry Potter or any associated characters.

There have been some issues with story stats recently, so I decided to wait until they got fixed to reupload this chapter. Sorry about that.

Thanks to BananaCarrot5 for beta reading!

Harry stood in a dark, drafty cellar, faint light from a singular lamp casting shadows against the walls.

Where am I- he started, looking around. And then it clicked.

He was standing in the cellar of Malfoy Manor.

Suddenly finding his mouth dry, Harry made for the wrought-iron cellar door. He reached for the handle, only for the door is dissolve into black mist.

A heart-rending, raw scream echoed from upstairs. Harry had heard that same scream before; in this very house.

Hermione, he thought. His hands shook as his breathing quickened.

Harry darted up the stairs, taking them two at a time as Hermione's shrieks turned to sobbing whimpers of pain.

Reaching the landing, he rounded the corner, sprinting down the long hall leading to the drawing room.

The screams had ceased, and an eerie silence had descended upon the manor.

Still sprinting, Harry slammed into the drawing room doors, which splintered and cracked as they were flung open.

A few paces in front of Harry was Hermione, who lay motionless, her mess of curls obscuring her face. The carpet around her body was stained crimson, and a figure robed in black stood over her, holding a bloody dagger.

Harry tried to move closer - to reach Hermione - but he was frozen in place. The figure, who had been looking down on the dead girl before them, slowly raised its head.

He stared at Bellatrix Lestrange, who looked back at him without expression. Harry blinked, only to find that he was now looking at the snakelike visage of the resurrected Voldemort of the previous timeline.

Voldemort's eyes bored into Harry's, as the room faded into darkness.

Harry shot up in bed, panting and dripping with sweat. He reached under his pillow, his hand finding the familiar wood of his wand.

"Lumos," he whispered.

Crimson curtains lined his bed, and the incessant snoring of one Ronald Weasley filled the room.

Harry collapsed back into his pillow in relief.

"Just a nightmare," he said to himself, taking several deep breaths.

Hermione's safe. She's alive and safe, he thought.

As his heartbeat slowly returned to normal, Harry put on his glasses and brushed open the curtains that hung around his bed. The dim orange light of dawn filtered through the window into the room.

With a sigh, he let the curtain fall. With any luck, he would be able to manage a few more hours of fitful sleep before the task. Putting his wand and glasses back, he settled into the pillow and closed his eyes.

-:-:-:-

"Are you sure you slept well last night, Harry?" Hermione asked.

Harry sat across from her, clad in his black and red champion's robes. He pushed his lunch around his plate with a fork. "I- It's fine Hermione, I'm just a little nervous about the dragon, that's all."

Hermione moved her empty plate out of the way as she shut her notebook. "I understand that, but your eyes are red and you fell asleep at breakfast this morning. Tell me what's wrong," she said comfortingly.

"It was a dream, a nightmare really," he said, looking her in the eyes. "About you, in Malfoy Manor. Only it was so much worse."

Hermione let out a small gasp, her eyes tearing up. She felt her heart skip a few beats and clutched her hands together in an effort to stop them from shaking.

"That won't happen," Harry said quickly, seeing her distress. "Not this time."

Collecting herself, Hermione nodded tentatively.. "I know it won't. The next time I see Bellatrix-" She paused, focusing on something behind Harry.

He turned to see Professor McGonagall hurrying towards them. Harry turned back to Hermione.

"Wish me luck," he said halfheartedly.

"Not yet," Hermione replied. "I'll come visit you in the tent."

"Potter," Professor McGonagall started. "The champions have to come down to the grounds now. You have to get ready for the first task."

"See you soon," he said to Hermione.

She gave him an anxious smile before he followed his Head of House out of the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall looked just as nervous as Harry felt, and as they drew closer to the champions' tent next to the makeshift arena, she put her hand on his shoulder.

"Just do your best, and nobody will think bad of you. Don't panic, there's a team of wizards nearby to control the… situation if it gets out of hand. How are you feeling?"

"Never better professor," Harry lied as they reached the entrance of the tent.

"The other champions are in there," McGonagall said, gesturing to the tent. "Mr. Bagman will explain the - the details of the task. Good luck Potter."

"Thanks," Harry said glumly, lifting the tent flap and heading inside.

Cedric was pacing up and down near the far side of the tent where the champions would enter the arena. He gave Harry a weak smile as he entered.

A pale Fleur was seated in the corner of the tent, staring at her feet. Krum stood in the middle of the tent, unconsciously tapping his foot as he waited.

Harry found an empty chair, collapsing into it. Students from all three schools were already heading for the stands just nearby, talking in excited voices as they passed by the tent.

After a few minutes, the four champions were graced with the arrival of an overly-enthusiastic Ludo Bagman.

"Champions, welcome!" he said with a wide grin. "The audience is assembling as we speak, and since there's no time like the present…"

"Gather around please," he asked, motioning for them to come closer. As Harry and the other champions made a circle around Bagman, he reached into his pocket, producing a small purple silk bag.

"Your task is to collect a golden egg!" he said brightly. "But collect it from what you may ask?"

"Pretty sure nobody asked," Harry muttered under his breath.

"It's time to find out," Bagman finished, opening the neck of the bag and holding it out excitedly. "Ladies first!"

The competitor's choice of dragons was exactly as Harry remembered from last time, and once more he was left holding a small model of a Hungarian Horntail with the number four around its neck.

"Well now, you have each chosen your dragon, and the number corresponds to the order that you will face your dragon. It's brilliant, isn't it?" Bagman said, only to find his excitement met with four solemn glances.

"Right then… I must take my leave shortly, as I am also commentating the event. Ah yes, Mr. Diggory, when you hear the whistle, just walk out into the arena from that exit right there," he said, pointing to the side of the tent opposite from where Harry walked in.

"Harry," Bagman asked, interrupting his thoughts. "Might I have a quick word with you outside?"

Harry looked the man up and down. "I don't possibly see what there is to discuss-"

He was interrupted by a whistle being blown somewhere in the arena stands. Cedric took one last look around the tent, before pushing open the flap and stepping out.

"Just as well," Bagman exclaimed, "I've got to run!" And he darted out of the tent, leaving the entrance slightly ajar.

As soon as Bagman had gone, Hermione surreptitiously slipped into the tent, making her way to stand next to Harry.

"The Horntail? Again?" she whispered in exasperation, looking at the miniature dragon in Harry's palm.

Harry shrugged. "It should be much easier this time, I'm a much better flyer and I didn't learn the summoning charm last night."

"Harry, please be careful," Hermione said anxiously. "I'll be ready just in case something goes terribly wrong, I know a few spells that-"

"Hermione," Harry said, turning towards her. "I'll be okay."

She bit her lip, before slowly nodding. "But if you get into trouble-"

"Then definitely feel free to step in and save me," Harry said, and she gave him a slight smile.

"I'll be watching," Hermione said. Thunderous applause sounded from outside, signaling Cedric's success as they both walked towards the tent's entrance.

Lifting the flap, Hermione suddenly turned around and threw herself at Harry, wrapping him in a hug.

Breaking the embrace, she pressed her lips to his cheek.

"For luck," Hermione whispered. She gave a bewildered Harry one last grin before disappearing out the flap.

Feeling more nervous than ever, Harry walked back to his seat as the whistle blew again.

"One down, three to go," Bagman yelled. "Miss Delacour, if you please."

Fleur shakily gripped her wand and stepped out of the tent with her head held high. Krum and Harry sat on opposite sides of the tent, looking at anything but the other.

Bagman's narration resumed, only this time Hermione was not talking with Harry.

"That might not have been the best move," he heard Bagman say. "We'll see if she pays for it later… Oh my, yes she did! Almost had the egg though."

Roughly ten minutes later, the crowd erupted into cheers once more. There was a brief pause as her marks were shown, more applause, then the whistle sounded a third time.

Krum reluctantly stood and gave Harry a curt nod as he slouched out of the tent, leaving him alone.

Harry took a series of deep breaths, doing his best to calm his nerves. Again and again, he mentally ran through his plan, in an effort to reassure himself.

I've done it before, and I can do it better a second time, he thought. It'll be easy, just lure it away, dart in, and grab the egg. Hopefully, Hermione won't think it's too dangerous-

"A bold move!" Bagman's yelling snapped Harry back to reality. "And Mr. Krum has done it! He's got the egg!"

The crowd's roar signaled the end of Krum's turn, and Harry pulled out his wand as he got to his feet.

"Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for our fourth and final champion, Mr. Harry Potter!" Ludo Bagman said, his voice echoed across the arena.

Harry pushed open the tent's exit.

Standing in the sand of the arena, Harry took in the spectacle laid out before him. Hundreds of faces stared down at him from stands that had been conjured only a few days prior. He scanned the crowd, searching the Gryffindor section for a certain chestnut-haired girl.

She was staring at him intently and gave him a thumbs-up as their eyes met.

Wasting no time, Harry raised his wand.

"Accio Firebolt!" Harry shouted, with more confidence than he felt. He looked towards the dragon.

At the far end of the enclosure, the Horntail crouched over her nest of eggs, wings furled and claws dug into the sand before it. The black, scaly monster was chained to the ground, and focused its yellow lizard eyes on Harry, exhaling fumes from her half-closed maw.

A crack pierced the air behind him, and Harry turned to see his Firebolt rocketing towards him.

This is either the best or worst idea, I've ever had, he thought.

"Diffindo," he cried. With a snap, a link in the large chain holding the dragon shattered. The crowd took a collective gasp.

"Mr. Potter has untethered the dragon!" Bagman exclaimed, unable to believe his eyes.

The Firebolt soared into the arena, kicking up a small cloud of dust as it came to a sudden stop beside Harry. He swung his leg over the broom, mounting it, and pointed his wand at the dragon again.

"Accio Egg."

"A clever move on Mr. Potter's part, but the golden egg is enchanted with anti-summoning charms, meaning that unfortunately-" Bagman paused, watching as one of the real dragon eggs flew out of the nest into Harry's hand.

"Oh… oh no," Ludo Bagman said, the realization coming to him.

Hermione put her head in her hands with a groan.

Harry kicked off the ground, egg in hand, as the Horntail let out a terrible roar. She spread her wings, occluding most of the arena, and lifted herself into the air with a single powerful beat. The downwash rushed across the sandy floor, covering the stands behind the dragon in a thin layer of dust as she took off after her missing egg.

Wind rushed through Harry's hair as braced himself and shot straight up into the sky, leaving the arena far below. He felt his anxiety draining, his heartbeat slowing down to a normal pace.

Reaching the top of his vertical ascent, Harry leveled out a few hundred feet above the stands, unclenching his legs and sitting up on his broom.

Up here, away from the crowd and the noise, it was peaceful.

It's just like a Quidditch game…

The Horntail roared, and Harry looked down to see the dragon ascended towards him, large wings buffetting the air as she cut through the clouds.

With a multi-ton fire-breathing dragon as the opposing team, he thought. He shifted himself on the Firebolt, hovering in midair as he waited.

Drawing closer, the Horntail spewed a jet of fire at Harry, who just pulled up to avoid being roasted.

Just a bit higher, he thought, his heart starting to pound again. The dragon let out another stream of fire, with both rising further above the arena in a deadly game of cat-and-mouse.

Another breath of fire erupted below him, and Harry saw his chance.

He flipped upside down on his broom, and let go.

Black scales rushed past him as Harry dropped past the still-ascending dragon, who thrashed her tail at him. The spiked tail narrowly missed a falling Harry, who pointed his wand at the fast-approaching ground.

"Arresto Momentum," he cried.

His fall slowed, but Harry had misjudged his position over the arena. He was about a hundred feet off target; if he kept falling, he'd end up at the edge of the forest.

"Accio Firebolt," he yelled again.

The broom raced down towards him, past the still reorienting dragon, and he grabbed the handle as his Firebolt flew beneath him.

Harry dove towards the unguarded nest, the cheers of the audience reaching his ears again as he closed in on the golden egg.

"I've never seen anything like this before!" Bagman exclaimed. "Mr. Potter has evaded a dragon on just a broom! And a Hungarian Horntail no less! Are you seeing this, Mr. Krum?"

The clutch of eggs grew nearer, and Harry pulled up on the Firebolt, gently landing next to them. With the broom in one hand, he reached into the nest and swapped the egg he had stolen with the golden egg.

The crowd went wild, screaming and applauding as if Harry had just won the World Cup.

"Our youngest champion is the quickest to get his egg, and has emerged unscathed! What a strategy!" Bagman cried.

Starting towards the champion's tent, Harry glanced towards the Gryffindor section, looking for Hermione.

She was biting her lip in concern but flashed him a relieved grin as he proudly lifted the egg in her direction. Her eyes flickered off of Harry, and her smile vanished.

The ground shook as Harry spun around as the Horntail slammed into the earth beside her nest. Harry was knocked off his feet, and sand and stone fragments flew all around him as he barely caught himself from landing on his face.

Lifting its head in the air, the Horntail roared, a gout of fire pouring from her mouth. Harry rolled over onto his back, firing a trio of stunners at the dragon.

Streaks of red light dissipated against the dragon's scaly skin from all directions, as dragon keepers rushed into the arena, wands held aloft.

The Horntail faltered, swaying dangerously as the flames died in her nostrils. Several tons of sinew and scales hit the ground with a thud that shook the stands.

As the dust settled in the arena, Harry stepped out of the arena, golden egg and Firebolt in hand.

Professor McGonagall, Professor Moody, and Hagrid hurried towards him, smiles on their faces.

"That was some fantastic flying, Potter!" cried Professor McGonagall. "It's a shame there's no Quidditch this year; Gryffindor would certainly be a force to be reckoned with."

"Agains' the Horntail an' all, Harry," Hagrid said hoarsely. "Yeh did it."

Fake Moody also looked pleased. "Nice plan, Potter," he growled.

Of course you're happy about me winning, Crouch, Harry thought irritably.

"Right, off to the first aid tent," Professor McGonagall said.

"But I didn't get hurt, Professor," Harry protested.

"And yet Pomfrey insisted regardless. If you please, Potter."

Harry walked out of the champion's tent, and over to a second tent nearby, where Madam Pomfrey was waiting for him.

"Dragons," she said disdainfully as she pulled Harry into the tent. "Dementors last year, Dragons this year, what's next? Giants?"

Next to him, the silhouette of Cedric was sat on a cot.

He must've gotten himself burned again.

"Honestly, I'm perfectly fine," Harry said as Madam Pomfrey examined him.

"So you are," she agreed, satisfied in her examination. "You can go get your score now." She bustled out of Harry's side of the tent, and he heard her next door ask, "How does it feel now, Diggory?"

Harry got to his feet, starting outside, but before he'd reached the mouth of the tent, an ecstatic Hermione darted inside.

She lunged at him, wrapping him in another hug.

"You were brilliant," she said. "I'm so proud of you."

Letting go of him, they ducked out of the tent, heading back to the arena.

"However," Hermione continued, her smile fading. "I'm glad you're safe, and you were amazing, but please-," she paused to look at him. "Tell me your plan and let me help next time. That was too risky; you could've died!"

"But I've done it before," Harry said. "And I didn't get hurt this time."

"And I'm happy you didn't," Hermione said. "But just because you've done something before and succeeded doesn't mean you can be reckless."

Harry opened his mouth to argue. He'd survived so many near-death events in his previous life, but Hermione was right. He didn't need to make it so dangerous for himself a second time around, especially since he would be able to prepare long in advance.

"You're right Hermione," he conceded. "We should've at least discussed it beforehand."

"S'all right," Hermione said. "We're still in a bit of a daze, but for next time, we're better when we work together."

Harry nodded in agreement.

Reaching the edge of the Horntail-less arena, Harry looked where the five judges were seated - across opposite the champion's tent, in raised seats draped in gold.

Madame Maxine raised her wand in the air. A long silver ribbon shot out of it, twisting into a large number nine.

"What's the score to beat?" Harry asked Hermione, his voice almost drowned out by the crowd's applause.

Mr. Crouch went next. His ribbon split in two, forming itself into a ten.

"Tournament scores are the least of our concerns," Hermione replied.

Dumbledore was next. He shot a number nine into the air.

"But Krum is leading with 40 points, if you must know," she said with a smile, raising her voice so he could hear her over the thunderous cheering.

Another ten from Ludo Bagman. The excitement of the audience was palpable.

Karkaroff raised his wand. He paused, as Bagman leaned over to say something to him. He huffed, and a number six shot out of his wand.

Hermione put a hand over her mouth.

"Harry, you're in first place!" she gasped.

"Huh," he breathed. "I guess I am."

A familiar mane of red hair caught his eye as its owner drew closer.

Ron walked up to where Harry and Hermione were standing, pale as a ghost.

"I reckon you'd have to be barking mad to put your own name in the Goblet of Fire," he said seriously.

"And it took an adult dragon to convince you of that?" Harry asked. Behind him, Hermione looked Ron up and down with distaste.

Ron shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Well-" he started. "'Suppose I didn't know all that much about what the tournament would actually entail."

"So you assumed a tournament that was so deadly it was discontinued wouldn't involve close encounters with death," Hermione said sharply.

Ron blanched. "I just wanted to apologize, there's no need to be so mean," he complained.

Took you long enough, Harry thought. Part of him wanted to stay angry at the redhead; that he deserved it for treating Harry so poorly. Yet, anytime he looked at Ron, all he saw was his friend's broken body from the past timeline.

"Look, I forgive you," he said. "But there's going to be some changes with how you act. I'm not interested in fair weather friends."

Ron swallowed and nodded. He awkwardly looked between Harry and Hermione.

"Well, I suppose I'll get going," he said, turning to follow the trickle of people back up to the castle. "See you later."

"That went better than expected," Hermione said, as they watched him go.

"There's certainly a new dynamic to our friendship," said Harry. "We'll see how it works out."

"Mr. Potter," Bagman called from the entrance to the champion's tent. "If you wouldn't mind - it'll just be a minute."

Harry looked back towards Hermione.

"Go on," she said, giving him a soft nudge towards the tent. "I'll be waiting here."

Fleur, Cedric, and Krum were all already gathered inside the tent. Cedric's face was covered in some kind of thick orange burn gel. He grinned at Harry as he walked in.

"Great flying, Harry."

"Thanks, Cedric. Congrats," Harry said, smiling at the older boy.

"A task well done by all of you," Ludo Bagman said. "Now just a few quick words and then you're all set to go. The second task will take place at half past nine on the twenty-fourth of February, so you've got a nice break before then. Those golden eggs you're holding," he motioned to the items held by each of the champions, "They can be opened, and inside you'll find a clue about what the second task is, so you can prepare. Does everyone understand? Wonderful, you're free to go!"

Harry left the tent, rejoining Hermione.

"I'll carry your broom if you want," she offered.

"Thanks," Harry said gratefully, handing it over.

"So…?" she prompted Harry, as she rested the Firebolt on her shoulder.

"Nothing new," Harry said. "The eggs hold a clue about the next task and the next task is on February twenty-fourth."

"Plenty of time to plan for the task and also resolve some items on our list," said Hermione, looking pleased.

"We should start with the diadem.