Hello everyone! Thanks again for the great support, it's always nice to hear your thoughts on the story.
So, the first task is here an no, I am indeed not going with Parseltongue. That was a great idea when first used in fanfiction but by now I do think it's become a bit too much of a cliché.

Enjoy!

Chapter 21 - Never tickle a sleeping Dragon

Just like he had noticed with his courses, even this overwhelming assignment became a bit brighter when Harry bit his teeth into the reading material. He desperately wished he had a time turner now to attend classes and practice outside of those. It was great to have Ron at his side again, who drew up elaborate plans and schematics for each dragon, aided by whatever obscure information Hermione and Harry could find. They'd ranked the dragon from best to worst, starting with the Welsh green, then the Short-snout, the Fireball and lastly the Horntail.

''It would be perfect if you could influence which one you get,'' Ron commented once again, sighing. ''It would be much easier to only learn spells for one of them. With the Fireball you'd need cutting and slicing spells, with the Short-Snout a way to avoid the fire and spikes, and with the Horntail you should move as fast as possible... The latter will be a problem, you're only allowed to have a wand with you and previously taken potions also disqualify you right?''

''Yeah,'' Harry confirmed darkly. It was a shame. Not that he was good at potions, oh no, but brewing based on heavy magic wasn't nearly as taxing as direct spells. In fact, most potions actually counted as Dark, considering that any once-alive ingredients were literal sacrifices. Perhaps that was why Snape was so obsessed with both Potions and the Dark Arts. It did make Harry wonder why the subject had not been banned centuries ago. Perhaps insects, plants and other small animals weren't cared about enough? It also finally made it clear to him why Potions were so much more powerful than equivalent spells. One great example for that was the Polyjuice potion, which only asked for one piece per hour of the person the user wanted to turn into.

All spells he had found until now that could help him asked for things Harry wasn't very willing to give up, be it bonds between people or literally one of his kidneys -two uses only, the book had helpfully reminded him-. Still, he had to choose some of them soon if he still wanted to practise them, with or without his friends, depending on the nature of the spell. There was exactly one week left now till the Tournament really started, which was why he was, once again, spending his free hours in a dusty unused classroom which he could use for spell practise with permission from his Head of House. They had shoved all tables and chairs aside, clearing a space in the middle, although currently they were huddled over one of Ron's drawings.

''I came up with something,'' the redhead said, a bit reluctant. ''To pick a dragon I mean, or have a better chance to get an easier one at least.''

''Oh?'' Both he and Hermione suddenly listened attentively to Ron, who flushed and looked out of the window to avoid their gazes.

''It's a bit... underhanded. Not sure how desperate you are, it might not make you popular.''

''I'm trying to survive here,'' Harry reminded him. ''With as little burns as possible. I'll consider anything... or almost anything, I wouldn't kiss Snape's slimy arse even if not doing so would put me six feet under.''

''Fine,'' Ron said. ''I was thinking and... Diggory still doesn't know about the dragons, does he?''

''Unless he suddenly found a clue within the past few days, no. He has acted nervous all month and isn't practising anything specific. What, are you suggesting I tell him?''

''Look, we know you go last in picking your dragon, so you won't have any chance to manipulate it there. Since you are apparently last because of your age, it would make sense that it goes from oldest to youngest, right? And Diggory only just turned seventeen in September as well so he could participate as a sixth-year, whereas Delacour and Krum are already in their seventh. That means that those two will get the first two choices... depending on what they pick, it might be handy to strike up a deal with Diggory. Like, if you tell him what is awaiting with this task, he should pick a specific dragon that's left in the bag. It will give him more of an advantage to risk getting a more dangerous dragon to fight than to not have any clue what he's getting into in the first place, leaving him unable to prepare.''

''Ron, wow, that...'' Hermione spoke, sounding almost shocked. ''That's really well-thought through!''

''Just because I can't recite facts from books doesn't mean I don't have a brain, 'Mione,'' the boy answered. ''I'm only hesitant because it's essentially blackmail and that sounds a bit... bad.''

''Striking up a bargain that can lead to an advantage for both sides sounds more like what Fred and George would do than someone from Slytherin, don't you think?'' Harry shrugged. ''Honestly, I think it's brilliant. My only issue is that I'd have no way to hold Diggory to his word of picking the dragon I want least of whatever's left. What if he just ignores it and exactly picks the other one? Then I would have less chance than if I hadn't told him anything.''

''I think you should have a bit of trust in Diggory,'' Hermione spoke up thoughtfully. ''Do you recall that match where you fell off your broom?''

''The one that Hufflepuff then won? Ron told me that Diggory's dad kept bragging about it.''

''He did, the prick.'' Ron grumbled.

''Exactly, his dad did. Diggory tried to get him to stop, looking highly embarrassed. I've heard that he actually vouched back then for that match to not count at all because it would have been unfair. It was the referee who wanted to hear none of it since Diggory had caught the snitch fairly before he knew anything had happened to you. Even Wood had to agree to that then. Also, he's the only person in Hufflepuff who's actively tried to convince other students to not vilify you, claiming you are both fighting for the same school and deserve the same support. I don't think you could have had a better person as your co-Champion for Hogwarts honestly. He's the epitome of Hufflepuff loyalty and kindness.''

''So in other words, no problem?'' Harry grinned.

He was met with an eye-roll from Hermione and a careful shrug of Ron. It looked like he was the only one that the Sorting hat had ever considered putting in Slytherin then. Though to be fair, it had been Ron's idea. An idea that Harry executed as fast as he could, aided by his trusty map and cloak.

Having practised his chosen spells until the very last minute, Harry felt dizzy in the morning of the First Task. Various feelings constricted his stomach and battled with each other. In the end, his nerves won by an overwhelming amount and he couldn't eat a bite despite his friends' urging. All he could think of was the task. Would his methods work? What was Diggory going to do? How would the reaction of the judges be? And those of his friends at that? He'd practised with them, of course. Together with Dixie and Hermione, he learnt how to enchant his robes to make them fireproof, while Ron made strategies of where to run, what sides to attack from, what to watch out for etcetera. Yet he had not revealed his trump card to any of them, having discussed a particular ritual in secret with Barty.

He hoped that it was unknown enough to pass for light magic, and more than that, that he could actually pull it off. The spell was of such a large scale that he wouldn't have been able to practise it fully even if he had had the necessary sacrifice at the ready, which he didn't have yet either and would only be able to obtain in the arena. He stared at his toast as the others left early, wanting to get a good spot and all sit together, leaving him to his own thoughts - hardly ever a good thing -. The teacher's table was also half-empty, even Barty wasn't there anymore and the man usually liked to have elaborate meals early in the morning. He felt oddly distanced from everyone else in the hall and kept counting the seconds until he had to get up, when McGonagall disturbed him to bring him outside. It was strange that, while knowing rationally that he couldn't die from this, it still felt as if he were walking to his own funeral. What if everything he did failed and he became the laughing stock of the school? What if the next time he saw Voldemort, the man would turn up his nose and decide that he wasted his time trusting Harry?

McGonagall tried to give him a few encouraging words as they arrived at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, a place Harry had not wanted to return to for the rest of the year, at the very least. A large tent had been placed in front, which didn't mean that he would be spared from entering the actual forest... A terrifying, yet amusing thought entered his panicking mind of a gigantic Acromantula hiding in disguise in the stands of the arena, trying to fit in to get revenge for its fallen brethren as soon as Harry entered.

The Champion's tent was entirely silent, both foreign students just sitting there and staring into nothing, Delacour pale and Krum grim. Diggory paced up and down, holding his wand in a painful grip, only looking up briefly to give Harry a tight smile and a nod. He hoped his friends had been right about Diggory's character and that he could trust the older boy. He certainly hoped he could, for during all the time he'd spent researching dragons and methods to beat them, he hadn't found a single way to outrun a Horntail. If Diggory kept his word, Harry would be guaranteed to not fight it. If he didn't and the Horntail wasn't pulled out by the first two Champions, Harry would have reduced his chances from 50 percent to zero by informing Diggory. Now that the Hufflepuff knew what dragons they were fighting, he would easily be able to identify which was which between the last two. Diggory's friendly attitude could still be a trap to get his guard down. The other had only been left with a week of preparation time after all, perhaps he hadn't been able to plan anything good and was desperate.

The only person in the tent who looked joyful was Bagman, who was positively beaming at all four Champions, making him look like a character from one of those old comic books that Dudley possessed, especially since the man was wearing his tight, old Quidditch uniform. Waspman, Harry's mind giggled, making it hard to keep an entirely straight face. The impending doom that was ahead helped only somewhat.

''Now then! Good that we are all here, it is time to reveal what lies ahead!'' Bagman grinned. ''If all onlookers have found a seat, I will hand each of you this.'' He showed a purple, silk bag and shook it. ''Out of which you will pull a small model of that which you will have to face. There are several different.. erhm, types, you see. Oh, and before I forget, your task is to get the golden egg!''

Golden? That would make it much easier to identify, Harry thought. He hadn't heard that particular information before, and had already spent a few hours studying pictures and sketches of dragon eggs of the four species here. He'd assumed they wouldn't make it that easy to tell which one was fake. He looked at the other Champions again. Diggory nodded at him once more, so that was hopefully a good sign. The others didn't react at all. None of them showed any sign of surprise, which seemed to put Bagman off a bit. He dismissed it quickly, perhaps thinking none of them were saying anything to not spill their stomach contents, which Harry thought would be more than reasonable. Even if they had put their name in themselves, neither of them had known there would be live, adult, nesting dragons to fight. It was quite similar to Harry's decision to just ask Voldemort for a way to be useful and not even considering that the way he would have to prove himself would be this... extreme.

The ground shook as hundreds of people were guided to their seats at the other side of the tent. Then, Bagman opened the satchel.

''Ladies first,'' the man smiled, although Harry knew very well that the order had nothing to do with her being a lady since it was decided by age. He held his breath as she put in a trembling hand and he hissed slightly as he noticed that she lingered quite a bit longer than necessary before she finally pulled out a dragon. Not to his surprise, it was the Green Welsh, easily identifiable by its four legs and smooth body. He couldn't blame Delacour for picking the easiest choice, he would have done the same. Hopefully the other dragons would be slightly more difficult to distinguish from each other as all had spikes and the same type of wings. Could Krum perhaps accidentally mistake the Short-snout for the Horntail?

Harry blinked in surprise when it was neither of those two that was pulled out, and instead Krum held a scarlet dragon with the number 3 around its neck. Surely, he must have felt that it was much longer and serpent-like than the others? Had he chosen this one because his practised spells would work well for cutting into those air sacks and eyes? Damn it... Harry nervously glanced over at his 'partner in crime'. If it would have been between the Fireball and the Horntail, that might not even have beenthat much of an advantage to Harry in Diggory's eyes. Now... He wiped the sweaty palms on his robes when it was Diggory's turn. It looked for a moment that the other threw him an apologetic look, but a split second later that had been replaced by concern and even faster by determination. Harry didn't know what to make of that rollercoaster and wondered if he was seeing things or if Diggory had five emotions within two seconds more often. As a tiny black ball of angry spikes was revealed, Harry breathed out a relieved sigh that he tried to cover up with a cough when Bagman gave him a suspicious look.

Feeling far better about this entire task now, he reached into the bag himself and almost happily regarded the brilliant blue and silver dragon miniature that greeted him with non-burning, blue fire. The number 1 hung around its neck, indicating that Harry didn't have to waitlong at all. Good, better to get it over with than having to sit around here. He turned to Diggory, not knowing if he should say anything, just giving a nod in appreciation that could have been interpreted by others as encouragement. He received a hint of a smile in return, although the rest of Diggory's face, from his paled skin to his worried eyes, looked like the boy was cursing his own good nature. Harry was for once in his lifetime incredibly glad for having a darker complexion than was common, since it wouldn't allow him to show such obvious signs of fear. Thanks dad, he thought.

''Very well, now that you all have your dragons, it's time for me to leave!'' Bagman spoke cheerfully. ''Harry, you should go in when you hear a whistle.. I actually had wanted to shortly speak with you still, but-

Harry didn't know what confused him more: that Bagman called him by his first name or that he had something to talk about right before such a difficult task, after never even speaking personally. In either case, he was spared an answer as a shrill whistle already announced that it was time. Taking a deep breath, Harry stepped out of the tent as Bagman hurried out of the other end. He blinked against the sudden sunlight, not having expected it as they were already at the forests' edge. He walked down the narrow path alongside a makeshift wooden fence until he came to the entrance to the arena, masses of people being seated in a half-arch around it.

The sun, he thought. Ron had told him that the position of the sun was going to be important to trick the dragon further with visibility. The dragon was clearly noticeable, perched at the other end of the arena, hovering over her eggs, the silver scales gleaming as if he was fighting a metal beast. It would be difficult to get her to move to a location that was more advantageous to him. She was even larger than it had looked in the forest, if that were possible.

''Here goes nothing,'' he muttered, encouraged by the fact that there was still so much distance between him and the dragon. It made it far easier to cast all necessary spells he wanted to in advance.

After fireproofing his clothes, he carefully circled around the clearing, taking in the terrain. It featured several larger boulders, and was all in all flat and grassy. As he was the first, the earth had only been scorched where the dragon was currently sitting. ''Point me,'' he spoke to figure out where north was, using a spell that Hermione had taught him, the wand spinning atop his hand. It wouldn't have to be a perfect circle, Barty had told him. It only had to be large enough and he had to get his directions correct. ''Flagrate''. He hoped that it wasn't a mistake to start already, he hadn't even cast a shield to conceal or protect himself yet... but with how much effort it took to maintain the haze shield, and how quickly he'd run out of offerings to feed it, it would be better to use it as little as possible while the dragon was still far away... something that wouldn't last forever since he'd have to encase it inside his circle. As he drew closer, he put several runes in the air, hoping that they were drawn sufficiently. He hadn't studied the theory behind them, only copied what he knew should be there. Crossing the arena, he created lines of fiery light to a scale he hadn't thought possible. The dragon roared, looking like it became nervous, but it remained with its eggs. Good, that gave him more time still-

He ducked barely in time as the scaled beast launched itself forwards, mouth wide open and blue fire barring the earth in an instant. Harry staggered a few steps back, shocked by how quick such a massive creature could be. It spread its wings and took to the sky, circling over him like a hawk. Not good... he cancelled the Flagrate, glad that the spell was conceived so that the lines remained and he could cast other magic in between. Quickly, he ripped out a couple of hairs and erected his protective barrier, hoping it would make him invisible enough to not be hit directly. Indeed, the dragon landed again, sniffing the air, its eyesight not good enough to detect him anymore. It shot a few aimless streams of fire towards the ground, which Harry narrowly avoided, although it would have made his robes catch fire if not for the protective enchantments. He hurried up now that it had moved from its original spot, and Harry continuing to draw up his circle of red light. One moment, as he passed the nest, he thought that he could just spare himself this and grab the golden egg. Voldemort wouldn't be happy, but...

That thought was halted as the dragon figured out that he was after the eggs and it sped back, landing heavy on the rock, eyes narrowing and tiny blue flames licking the corners of its snout. Harry broke into a sprint into the opposite direction, hoping his lines wouldn't become too shaky, only now and then stopping to draw symbols and to look at the ground in search of anything gleaming. No such luck. Finally, he arrived at the other end of the clearing again and connected his first piece of line to his last. Then now for the big show...

It was good that he was so used to Quidditch, for all the running around would have tired him out much faster otherwise. He heard murmurs of discontent rising from the stands, was he taking too long? Never mind that, he told himself. I'm trying to get through this, not to give them a good time. His haze shield flickered and died as he forgot to give another sacrifice for too long, and the dragon was on him near instantly already. Harry dove towards a rock, his left arm hitting it with a nasty crack and a sharp sting of pain. He shot stunners at the beast in an attempt to do at least something to keep it at bay, trying to ignore the pain in his arm. He panicked completely when he saw a massive flank rise up from behind the stone, the gleaming black spines on its back not foretelling any good. It was only because he knew of this tactic, that he was able to avoid the beast when it rolled over on its side, trying to turn him into a barbeque snack on a skewer. Without a moment of hesitation, Harry ran up to the dragon, grabbed hold of one of the razor-sharp scales and screamed ''Diffindo'', running away without looking back as soon as he yanked an azure scale loose.

This was it, he realised. Now or never... the dragon was trying to get on its feet again, much less agile on the ground than in either sky or water, having difficulty with the large rocks on either side of it now. She was lying perfectly in the middle... He shot a quick glance at the eggs again, calculating if he could risk running instead. No, he realised. He was too far away. If the dragon wouldn't reach him, its fire certainly would, and while his clothes may be fireproof, a direct hit would result in unpleasant surprises for either him or the dragon. Taking a deep breath and sending a short prayer and an apology to Magic, he cast a Sonorus to amplify his voice. It wasn't strictly necessary, Barty had said, but the man was also of the opinion that if Harry was going to publically use heavy magic, he might as well make it properly public. He jumped on top of the rock he had been hiding behind with some difficulty as his left arm hung limp at his side. The dragon had done a full roll now and was back on its feet, opening its maw again as he started his chant. It did not come close to the melodious song of Voldemort, nor did it sound as impressive as Barty's recital. However, Harry poured everything in it that he had, holding the dragon scale high.

''Calm now, oh mighty beast of fire.
Calm now. I admire,
your fiery call of ire.
Rest your head, I require,
nought but a ceasefire
Whichever may transpire,
of this fight you will tire!''

The murmurs of the public came to a halt as the last words, laced with magic, rolled into the air. In fact, any sound stopped as if he stood in a vacuum, the scale in his hand soundlessly bursting into a thousand glittering pieces that sped across the arena and sank into the flaming pentagram that hovered over the clearing. The Short-snout released a pained cry, the sound piercing Harry's ears and all other noise came flooding back with it. He doubled over as a heavy force washed over him, making both him and the dragon kneel in front of each other. He looked the beast straight in the eyes, its head mere yards away. Hesitantly, he crept closer, fighting against the force that whirled around in his circle, and he put a hand on the creature's snout.

''It's okay,'' he whispered. ''I won't harm your real eggs.''

With great difficulty, he crossed the arena once more, climbed on top of the perching rock and lifted the golden egg, hardly caring about anything else than this first task being over.

Mr Bagman's enthusiastic voice reached him, yet he was so tired that he could barely make out any words, a side effect of the spell he had used. The dragon tamers passed him, rushing to their dragon and he joined up with professor McGonagall, who was white as a sheet, a grinning Barty and an even happier Hagrid. He'd made it... he'd faced an actual dragon and made it... the egg felt heavy in his arms. ''Come, you need to go to the medical tent first Potter,'' McGonagall started, before being waved away by Moody.

''I'll bring him Minerva. Have to make sure they look after him properly, dragons can have all nasty side effects, it's my responsibility as his Defence teacher.'' She nodded in agreement and Harry was being dragged off by Barty. ''Brilliant Evan. You absolutely nailed it. I was afraid that this would have been a bit over your level... you messed up at the start for certain. Then again, a spectacular ending, our Lord will be most pleased.'' Harry grinned at that too, until he came face to face with someone who was most definitely not happy. In front of the medical tent stood the imposing figure of Albus Dumbledore, who had never in Harry's life looked less grandfatherly than now.

''I'd like to have a word with Harry alone. Alastor...''

''I promised Minerva that I'd help stitching him up again, not even your words can keep me from that,'' Barty grumpily said. ''Besides, shouldn't you be in the judge's seat right now?''

''I wish to talk about that. Surely you must have noticed too Alastor... Harry, where on earth did you come across magic like that? Have you been taught? Were you in the restricted section?''

''I...'' Harry spoke, his mind drawing a blank. ''I read it in a book. Not from Hogwarts. Why, is there something wrong?'' playing an innocent child might perhaps get Dumbledore to back off slightly with his interrogation. And in that moment, something so wonderful happened that Harry didn't have words for it. A shadow loosened itself from the trees and stormed towards Harry, a bear-sized, furry black dog nearly suffocating him as it ran into Harry's arms. In the split of a second, Harry connected a few dots in his head and turned to Dumbledore. ''He gave me one from his family,'' he said, tightly fisting the fur on Sirius' back, hoping the man would play along. It helped that even Dumbledore would find it hard to read any comprehensible expression from Snuffles' rugged furry face. It wouldn't be completely odd for the Blacks to have all kinds of obscure books and Sirius was the last remaining member as far as Harry knew. Surely Sirius would have been able to gift one to him, either per post or even through the fireplace in the same manner that Arthur Weasley had given his colleague's head a piece of toast. Dumbledore cast a quick glance at Barty, who looked just as confused as the real Moody should have been as to whom Harry was referring to.

''I... see,'' Dumbledore spoke on a low tone, eyeing Sirius over his half-moon spectacles. ''I shall have a word with him about that. Go ahead and leave your... dog here. I will leave it to Alastor to explain to you why the type of magic you used is not taught at Hogwarts. I shall... reconsider my initial thought as to your marks.'' With that, he marched off, leaving Harry to wonder if Dumbledore would have failed him only for using dark magic knowingly. That hardly sounded fair.

''I'm sure you already know why it's 'bad''' Barty grinned, making air quotations that had Harry cringing slightly as Sirius was still present.

''Just come in the tent. Snuffles, no really, you should wait here like Dumbledore said. Madame Pomfrey would have a fit.''

As it turned out, she already had, ranting on about dragons and dangers. Harry did not interrupt her, instead thinking of a way to tell Barty about Sirius with the nurse being here. ''Professor,'' he said. ''The one you met outside... that's my godfather.''

Barty looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. ''The headmaster?' he hissed when Pomfrey turned away for a second to get a potion from the other side of the tent.

''No! I mean the... the hairy... black... person. Black,'' he pressed. ''Seriously.'' Understanding dawned on Barty's face, who was thankfully a bit brighter in the uptake than Harry himself was.

''Understood. He won't make problems will he?''

''I hope not.''

''Don't chatter so much,'' the nurse said. ''And keep still. Why do I always have to heal your bones, Mr. Potter, tell me that hm? Finally, I thought, finally a year without Quidditch, one blissful year without you turning up at the hospital wing every other week. But no, you had to become involved into some horrible murder feast.''

Ron and Hermione, who dove into the tent right then, spared him an answer. It looked like he was being saved from quite a few awkward conversations today by other people. ''Harry, you were great! That was amazing! Why didn't you tell us that you had prepared something like that? Runes, circles! That's highly advanced magic, where did you learn that?''

''If I hadn't realised I was an idiot before, I would have now,' Ron said breathlessly. ''That dragon. Just wow. But didn't I say to use the sun to your advantage? You completely ignored that!''

''I thought of it at the start... then in the middle of it all I forgot again. You're missing the rest of the Tournament,'' Harry protested. ''There's still three champions to go.''

''Not yet, there's a break until the scores are announced and you'll have to be present for that. Come on Harry, I need to know what you got!'' Harry grinned and nodded, swinging his arm around a bit, upsetting a metallic green beetle that had sat on the canvas of the medical tent. Barty growled and shot it out of the air before crushing it with his heavy walking stick.

''Hate insects,'' he explained at Hermione's shocked look. ''Well Potter, I'm not needed here anymore I see. I'll be joining up with Dumbledore then.'' He clapped Harry on his back and slunk away. As soon as Madam Pomfrey declared Harry fit enough, both of his friends nearly dragged him out. Flanked by Sirius, whom the two had obviously noticed before already, Harry was led back to the arena, to a more pleasant spot this time around. Ron pointed at a golden stand that Harry had completely overlooked before, where the judges were sitting. ''Each can only give ten points,'' Ron explained. The first to stand was Madam Maxime, who raised her wand, a smoky silver eight drifting from her wand. ''Not bad, you must've lost some points because of your arm.'' Percy was next, after a moment of hesitation only giving a six to Ron's enormous dismay. ''That pompous git. I have no idea what has gotten into him Harry, I swear.''

Harry did know. Having completed Hogwarts already, Percy was sure to know that this kind of magic wasn't taught here. Percy was also someone who completely stuck to the rules and the Ministry. While what Harry had used was not an obviously dark spell in the well-known sense, he was absolutely certain that similar spells had been banned by the Ministry before. That Harry had used a long-forgotten, obscure version used by bards to calm down dragons in the Dark Ages didn't change that fact. Dumbledore was next, also hesitating for a moment before giving a seven, certainly higher than Harry had expected. Ludo Bagman gave a solid ten, for reasons Harry didn't know. Ron had been right in that he shouldn't have gotten full marks since he'd gotten hurt.. He saw how Ron crossed his fingers as the last judge, Karkaroff, rose. Even from here Harry could imagine seeing the yellowed teeth blinking in the sunlight. Was someone who was buddies with Snape going to fail him for the same reasons as the potion professor always did?

A nine was shot in the air, to Harry's complete and utter surprise. From the three headmasters, he'd expected Karkaroff to want him to win least of all... Then again, he mused. Durmstrang was known for teaching dark magic more freely than anywhere else, perhaps the former Death Eater had recognised the type of spell and shown his appreciation for Harry using that kind of magic? Oh, how much would that piss Snape off?

He was ushered into a seat, able to enjoy the rest of the show from a safe perspective. Fleur was next, trying her sleeping charm that Harry had seen her practice before. Surprisingly, it worked and the dragon fell fast asleep. If it wouldn't have been for the flame that shot out of the dragon's snout, she might have even escaped unharmed. As it was, the girl panicked, only managing to douse her burning robe after a while, showing a lack of preparation, severely diminishing her score, 37 as opposed to Harry's 40. Krum came next, and it became obvious why he'd chosen the Fireball, his strategy of transforming the rocks in the arena into shields and shooting sharp spells through them working well to do damage to the dragon. Krum advanced like a soldier on a battlefield, going from stone to stone until he reached the eggs. The boy had only forgotten to account for the real eggs, which all lay pitifully trampled at their mothers feet, losing Krum so many points in sympathy and for breaking a rule, that he gained the same score as Harry despite not being wounded at all and finishing in the shortest time until now.

Then, it was Diggory's turn, and Harry sat at the edge of his seat, hoping that the other Hogwarts Champion wouldn't be hurt due to Harry's selfishness. The Horntail was larger than any of the other dragons. More aggressive too, yanking at its chain constantly, which was shorter compared to the other dragons to still ensure the public's safety. At least Diggory had that going for him. The boy tried to distract the dragon by transfiguring a rock into a dog, which didn't work at all, the Horntail snapping the dog in half at the same time as scratching Diggory, blood welling up on the Hufflepuff's chest. At that, the boy raised his wand and ran away, making Harry wonder what was going on. For a solid minute, Diggory ran from rock to rock, trying to avoid the jets of fire being hurled at him. Then, something came soaring into the field. ''It's a broom!'' Hermione shouted. ''Oh, he must have used the summoning charm! To call his broom from all the way over to the castle!''

''Does that even count?'' Ron yelled back, trying to make himself understandable over the roars of support as Diggory got onto the broom and did a looping around the dragon's head. ''He's only supposed to have his wand right?''

''Only when entering the arena! Man, I should've thought of that!'' Harry grinned. Surely, that would have been easier. ''Great thinking of him, that's the only way to be faster than that dragon I think.'' it made him wonder if Diggory had prepared for the Horntail already from the start, right after making their deal. This was definitely a solid alliance, he should treat Diggory to something. After a spectacular dive during which the other scooped up the egg, showing off his Seeker capabilities, dragon tamers appeared and tried to calm the Horntail down. ''That was something,'' Harry whistled.

''I had thought that out of all of you, Krum would be the one to use flying!'' Ron commented. They debated a bit about the techniques and styles used until Diggory finally returned for the scoring. ''Damn, that's heavy,'' his best friend whistled as the total came only to 36. ''Last place, even after that stunt!''

''Well, his first attempt didn't work out and he got severely injured twice,'' Hermione mused. ''First that slash and he also caught fire while flying. Furthermore, he was mediocre time-wise. Only Harry was slower, using that time well for a highly-complex spell that worked wonders. Diggory wasted the first half with that distraction attempt. Surely, that was taken into account.'' Harry certainly hoped that Diggory wouldn't blame him too heavily for coming last place... that first tactic might even have worked on the Short-Snout, or at least enough to grab the egg and run.

Harry could finally relax a bit now. Together with his friends he walked down to the medical tent again after one of the second-year girls informed him that Bagman was searching for all of the Champions. Sirius stayed close to Harry at all times, rubbing his heavy side against his godson to show he was still there, as if anyone could have missed the gigantic dog. ''You've all done very well!'' Bagman spoke when they were finally all there, surrounded by a few friends and a couple of teachers. Cedric had an orange-y paste on his face and looked tired. In spite of that, he still gave Harry a wide grin.

''Well done Harry. Hadn't thought a fourth year could pull off something like that against a dragon. It's a shame I couldn't see it for myself.''

''Well done to you too, summoning a broom was an amazing idea. Here I was, running around like a chicken,'' Harry laughed. ''I admire your thought, if I would have gotten the Horntail, I would've been squashed,'' he honestly admitted. ''You should have gotten more points, if only for the fact that you had the most dangerous dragon.''

''It's not so much about the points for me,'' Cedric shrugged. ''If I read the information about previous tournaments correctly, the points of the first two rounds only decide who gets a head start in the final round, nothing more. I want to see what I can do, not necessarily be the flashiest.''

''You're right about that, my boy,'' Bagman spoke on a good-natured tone. ''Still, that is no reason to not give it your all and give the people a nice show, is it? As a Quidditch player, you should know the value of a good game for the onlookers.''

''If you do not win, zat is pointless,'' Delacour spoke. It was the first time since Harry had heard her speak since the evening of her arrival. ''As a Seeker, I know eet is much better to wait and see, and to not 'urry too much. Zat might not be fun to watch, yet eet wins the leagues.''

''You're a seeker too?'' Harry spoke in surprise. ''Doesn't that mean that we all are then?'' Interested, he looked around.

''I 'ave played for some local teams during my 'olidays,'' Delacour nodded. ''We do not 'ave it at Beauxbatons, unfortunately. Zey prefer uzzer sports, ze most popular being Pétanvolant. Similar to Quidditch, but we 'ave eight metal balls and need to zrow them on 'overing platforms, which all 'ave different magical properties... I much prefer Quidditch to be 'onest.''

''Now isn't that fun?'' Bagman enthusiastically said, clapping his hands together. ''It would be amazing if we would organise a four-team Quidditch match with each Champion as a Seeker! Now that would make the press!''

''I already know I'll definitely lose to Potter,'' Diggory spoke, chuckling and rubbing his neck. ''Lost every single fair match to him during my time on the field. He was the youngest Quidditch player Hogwarts had in a century, did you know?'' Krum and Delacour both looked at Harry with far more interest now than they had before, making Harry flush red.

''I only got that position after breaking the rules of not flying without supervision,'' he protested.

''Yeah, to get an item back for a friend that had been stolen from him by a bully, I heard.'' Diggory threw in. ''Potter here is always far too modest.'' The boy clapped Harry on the shoulder and the teen gave the Hufflepuff an odd look. Had Diggory decided that they were buddies all of a sudden? Not that that was an unpleasant thought, Harry did like finding new people he got along with.

''Just Harry,'' he replied. ''You don't need to keep calling me Potter, Diggory.''

''Cedric for you then.''

''I 'ave nothing against all of us being on first-name base,'' Delacour shrugged, cocking her head at Krum. ''Do you?''

''No, I do not.'' he spoke in a scruff voice, sounding mostly bored. It would definitely take a bit longer for the Bulgarian to warm up to the rest of them.

''Great that we're all getting along!'' Bagman spoke as if he was a Champion too. Harry honestly didn't know what to think of the man, he exuded an odd vibe. ''So, only a few more words until you can return to the castle. Those eggs you are holding all contain a clue for the next Task that you will have to solve. It will tell you what the second task is and how to get through it. No hurry, the next task will only be on the twenty-fourth of February. Everything clear? No questions? Great, then be on your way!''

On the way back to school, he, Ron and Hermione said their goodbyes to Snuffles, who could not just unsuspiciously enter Hogwarts. It was a shame, Harry had much to talk about with his godfather, but it was better if Sirius didn't reveal himself here, where anyone could be watching.

Sooo, the first hurdle has been crossed! I hope you all liked my take on the dragon task.
And yes that was not just any beetle that Barty crushed oops :P Not sorry.

Please Read and Review!
xx GeMerope