Cedric Diggory's fame and popularity both peaked on Tuesday morning. The first of the tournament's three tasks was to go ahead that afternoon, and classes ended at midday so that all students were able to watch. "I've heard they have to swordfight," Vincent whispered in morning Herbology, a class in which Professor Sprout seemed more excited than ever, all but gushing about her house's champion.

"They're not going to swordfight with three people," Aurora whispered back, holding the potted devil's snare still on their table, which they were supposed to be drawing diagrams of.

"Well, it's gotta be some sorta fight," Greg said, shrugging. "If they're forcing us all to watch they could at least make it decent."

"I heard they're keeping dragons in the forest," Draco said, taking a break from his sketch and looking around importantly. "And Viktor Krum was reading about dragons in the library the other day."

"So?" Aurora asked. "He isn't supposed to know what the task is, is he? Maybe he just likes dragons." Then, she narrowed her eyes at Draco. "How d'you know what Krum reads?"

Draco flushed pink. "I was just trying to ask him about what it's like playing for Bulgaria? He doesn't speak nearly enough, and I have too many questions." Aurora pressed her lips together, hiding a smile. "It isn't funny — he's my idol!"

"He is pretty cool," Vincent admitted, drawing his own diagram of the plant they were studying. "Even if he does hang around with that Granger girl."

Aurora raised her eyebrows — this was news to her. "Well," Draco grumbled, "I never said he had taste."

"You know, I'd really rather get back to the issue of Draco stalking his Quidditch idol," Aurora said with a teasing grin.

"It's not stalking—"

"Is a bit," Greg said, earning himself a glare, "'specially since you always try and sit with him at breakfast."

"And lunch," Vincent put in.

"And dinner."

Aurora laughed, and a tendril of devil's snare reached out of the plantpot and made a break for Aurora's wrist. She batted it away. "Stupid plant."

"Be gentle with the plants, dear," Sprout chastised, looking across the greenhouse.

"As if it wouldn't strangle me when it gets bigger," Aurora muttered, so only the boys could hear. "But anyway — do you think Krum actually knows what he's up against?"

Draco shrugged. "Might do. I mean, Karkaroff might know and he could tell him if he wanted."

"Isn't that against the rules?" Aurora asked, though she knew Karkaroff wouldn't care, and Krum might not either. She certainly would have taken any information she could get on what she was facing, if she was a champion.

"Bet that French girl'd cheat too," Greg said, with a wistful expression. "I'd give her full marks anyway though."

Aurora pulled a face. "Don't be disgusting, Goyle."

"Everyone's thinking it."

"Doesn't mean you have to. I'm sure she is worthy of marks without you all mooning over her. Draco, can you hold the plant now, my diagram looks like nothing compared to all yours?"

Draco obliged, though Greg took on a rather sulky look. "I wouldn't be surprised if that Skeeter article was right, you know," her cousin said while wrestling with the plant, which clearly did not like him handling it. "About her being part-Veela, I mean. They're a lot more common on the continent, and she's certainly pretty enough."

Aurora hummed as she sketched out the tightly curled leaves at the base of the snare's stem. "Maybe, but I don't trust a word that woman says, on principle. As for her being — what did she call it? A 'softer image against the bulk and strength of the two wizards'?" She made a noise of disgust. "First of all, no one could call Diggory bulky and mean it. You could snap him like a twig. Second of all, there was nothing about her beyond her looks. Rita Skeeter wants a story and she wants people to fit a role."

"If you can't tell," Draco commented drily to Vincent and Greg, "Aurora doesn't much like her."

"Neither would you if she basically called for you to be expelled this time last year," Aurora pointed out. "I'd rather burn that Prophet article than take anything it says seriously."

She turned back to her diagram, annoyed by the turn of conversation, as the boys went on to put their bets on the winner of the first task — Draco, in an act of grave betrayal, immediately went for Krum, Vincent put his money on Fleur, and Greg was left sullenly with Cedric Diggory.

Ancient Runes, Aurora's next class passed in a blur, as did lunch, and then the whole school was shepherded down towards an enclosure in the Forbidden Forest, where a tent and stands had been erected. The champions had already gone, presumably into the large white tent, but the stands were filling up fast and Aurora and her friends hurried to find decent seats, around the back of the stands. Below them, a sandy space had been mostly covered up, but Aurora could hear the snapping of jaws and stamping of heavy feet.

"You know," she said to Draco, leaning across Pansy between them, "I think they might be fighting dragons after all."

"See!" Draco said triumphantly, grinning at them both. "I was right!"

"They can't fight dragons," Pansy said, aghast, and leaned over the railings in front of them. "That's so dangerous. They can't bring them here!"

"Technically," Aurora said, as it dawned on her and she wondered why she hadn't figured it out before, "dragon importation laws have been loosened enough that they can. They changed the law earlier this year, remember, when I attended the Assembly?"

Pansy stared at her, then yelled. "You mean you voted for dragons to be brought to school!"

"I didn't know they would be brought here!" Aurora protested. "I'm sure they won't get loose or anything." Though she eyed the admittedly rather flimsy covering with a greater deal of wariness than she had previously.

"Look," Theodore said, as he, Gwen, and Robin leaned over from the seats behind them, "the judges are coming out. Crouch looks sour as anything."

Aurora couldn't help but feel that last part might have been added for her benefit. Barty Crouch indeed looked like he would rather be anywhere else, glaring around the stands as slowly, the white covering was unravelled, showing three dragons being handled by at least thirty trainers, around a sandy ring. "I imagine even dragons don't entertain him," Gwen said, staring out with great interest and wide eyes. "Does anyone know which is which? Are they all dangerous — like, do they breathe fire and that — or are they all different?"

"That little blue one's a Swedish Short-Snout," Robin said helpfully. "The green's a Welsh Green and the red one I think might be a Chinese Fireball?" As if one cue, the red dragon bellowed out a plume of flames, causing shrieks to go up from the crowd and everyone to jump back.

"Definitely a Chinese Fireball," Draco said, scowling. "I bet that'll be the most difficult — Krum'll get it for sure."

A whistle blew shrill over the crowd and it quieted, as did the dragons. Aurora huddled closer to Pansy to avoid the cold, watching four of the five judges — Dumbledore, Maxime, Crouch, and Karkaroff — take their places just outside the ring of sand, within clear view of the crowd. Dumbledore and Maxime spoke merrily, but Karkaroff and Crouch appeared to be in some sort of silent standoff similar to that which they both often had with Professor Moody. But the tense moment was swept away sharply when Ludo Bagman came running out of the white tent, beaming in bright yellow and black robes of the Wimborne Wasps — his former Quidditch team.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" he cried, bounding over towards the other judges, of whom only Dumbledore seemed happy to see him. "Welcome on, welcome all — to the first task of the Triwizard Tournament!

"Today, three champions from three schools will take on a feat taken from the legends of heroes of old! Each champion shall take from a nest of a dragon, chosen by them at random not ten minutes ago, a golden egg which has been planted there! This egg is of vital importance — for it bears not only treasure, but a clue to the second task! This task will take nerves of steel, the courage of a lion, and magical skill beyond most of their peers." A few grumbles came from the crowd but Bagman pushed on, undeterred. "And now, without further ado, the heartiest of cheers for... Your first champion... Representing Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—" the sea of Hufflepuffs in yellow robes started screaming in pre-emptive praise "—Mister... Cedric... Diggory!"

Diggory ran out from the tent to raucous applause, his yellow robes streaming behind him. Two of the dragons were tugged back by their handlers, while the Welsh Green was urged forward, into the ring. Diggory stepped back, clearly frightened and unprepared, but when the dragon lunged his reflexes seemed to kick in and he dove out of the way. "Ooh, narrow miss there!" Bagman said. "But Diggory's back on his feet in a jiffy, good lad!"

Diggory didn't seem to have much of a plan though. He spent most of the next few minutes fruitlessly trying to get towards the nest of eggs behind the dragon, only to be pushed further and further back by plumes of flame from the Welsh Green. "He's no idea what he's doing," Pansy said, "does he?"

Diggory's robe caught on fire and a girl nearby them shrieked. "Well, it certainly doesn't look like it."

At one point, Diggory came up with the bright idea to transfigure a rock into a dog, which bounded around the enclosure and distracted the dragon just long enough for Diggory to slip past. He grabbed the gleaming golden egg, but got his robes singed running back, tripping over the dog which decided to sprint directly into his path, and fumbling as he scraped against a rock.

"Well," Aurora said as he stumbled out of the ring, nearly dropping the egg, to a rather subdued applause from the stands. "At least he's alive."

Diggory was ushered away to another, smaller tent outside which Madam Pomfrey could be seen wringing her hands anxiously. No doubt she detested the very idea of having dragons near Hogwarts. A few minutes later, Diggory emerged, shaken, to see the judges give their scores.

Madam Maxime went first, conjuring a large silver number six in the sky. From Dumbledore came another six, from Bagman a rather over-enthusiastic number eight, from Crouch a five and Karkaroff a measly, deflated-looking number three. "Write that down," Pansy said, "how many points does he have?"

"Six... Twelve... Twenty... Twenty-eight."

"Out of fifty?" Draco said, pulling a face. "Not a great look for Hufflepuff, is it?"

"Diggory looks like he's going to throw up," Robin said, as the boy was hauled back towards the medical tent, deflated.

"And after that exciting start," Bagman said, "all the way from Bulgaria... We've seen him on the Quidditch Pitch, but how does he fare against a dragon? It's Viktor Krum!"

The Chinese Fireball had replaced the Welsh Green now, and Aurora noticed that Krum approached the task with much more resolve than Diggory had mustered. Perhaps he really had known about the task ahead of time. He certainly looked like he knew what he was doing — dove behind a rock, hit the dragon right in the eye with a jinx that had it howling and stumbling around. He was slow to move, probably reluctant to agitate the dragon or make loud footsteps, but in the final sprint he took off quickly, grabbing the egg and lifting it in his arms.

The crowd started cheering. And then, the dragon reared back and let out a deafening roar. One wing swept out towards the stand, so that everyone had to duck for cover, huddling together as it soared over them, cold air rustling Aurora's hair. People started shouting, but the dragon seemed to have been angered and showed no signs of calming down.

Aurora crouched beside Pansy, with a view of the enclosure as Krum tried to avoid the furious dragon on his way back. She was crushing her own eggs, she realised in horror, because of whatever Krum had done to set her off. Across the enclosure, more people were ducking down for cover, as another wing made to crash through the stands, and Professor Flitwick had to dart in to keep it upright. Students darted out in all directions, and she caught sight, briefly, of Harry Potter leaning over the railing like a fool, staring down at the dragon with an odd expression on his face, before Hermione Granger pulled him away sharply.

Krum, somehow, managed to emerge unscathed, though the eggs were not so lucky. "Do you think he'll get marks deducted for that?" Theodore asked, once the dragon was under control and it was safe to put one's head above the rail.

"I mean," Gwen started with an uncertain laugh, "I don't think the goal was to get actual dragon eggs destroyed, do you?"

"No," Aurora said, frowning. "And frankly, it's irresponsible of them to have let it happen. If those are real dragon eggs, of course. The poor mother."

"It's a dragon," Pansy said, staring at her. "It's not poor anything."

"I know, and I know that she absolutely could incinerate me, but even so, it is rather cruel to hurt her eggs and distress her like that, don't you think?"

"They're giving the scores," Draco said excitedly, fingers crossed as he pointed down towards the judges' table. "That's a seven from Maxime... Eight from Dumbledore, eight from Bagman, seven from Crouch, nine from Karkaroff." He sat back, looking rather smug. "It seems I'll be winning that bet with Crabbe and Goyle, anyhow. Forty-one points for Krum."

The Durmstrang crowd cheered loudly for their champion, and Karkaroff clapped, beaming, as he was ushered to the medical tent.

The dragon was still in the process of being subdued by its handlers, its wings being pressed down to stop it from taking off or taking out a stand. "At least no one's died yet," Robin said chipperly, and Aurora turned to stare at him. "Well, they haven't!"

"Yes, but the Hogwarts champion is in last place. And don't say yet like that."

"It is a bit embarrassing," Gwen said, though she looked like she was amused more than anything else. "But we all knew Krum would do great, didn't we?"

"I certainly did," Draco said, giving her a superior look. "I've always known it, and Durmstrang trains its students far better than Hogwarts. My father says Karkaroff made it one of his priorities when he took over, because he never felt Hogwarts did the Dark Arts justice."

Robin's usually amused smile turned to a hard glare. "No one wants to hear what your father thinks of the Dark Arts, Malfoy."

Draco turned to him, eyebrows raised. "Did I ask if you did?"

"Maybe you should have, 'cause I certainly don't care when you start showing off about it."

"If you don't care," Draco said coldly, "then stay out of my conversations, Oliphant."

"Leave it," Aurora said tiredly, giving her cousin a pointed look. "Both of you. Delacour's coming out, look."

The girl looked freezing, but still held her head high as she came out. "And the last champion, the belle from Beauxbatons, here to do battle with a Swedish Short-Snout... I give you, Miss Fleur Delacour!"

Fleur did not respond to the crowd which gave a roar of approval, but instead followed much the same initial tactic as the two boys before her, concealing herself behind a large boulder. The dragon, which was at first disturbed by the loud crowd, calmed down after a few tense minutes, and then she moved again. It's keen eyes followed her, wary, but she whispered something and blue wisps of smoke came out of her wand, curling around the dragon. It sniffed the air, and for a second Aurora thought that it would lunge for her — but then its eyes closed, and it sank down onto the sandy floor.

Delacour wasted no time in darting forward, making a sprint for the egg, and gathering it quickly.

The dragon grunted, and she paused. Aurora held her breath, fearing another violent outburst like that which the Fireball had displayed, but it seemed to have worked. Delacour, triumphant, returned to the other end of the arena, but then the dragon snores loudly and a rush of flame shot out its nostril, catching her skirt. Delacour yelped, fumbling and waving her skirt to try and rid it of the flames, before finally shooting a jet of water. By a miracle, the dragon did not wake, but it was a rather more shaken girl who returned to the judges.

Still, "She did well," Aurora said, watching the judges converse in low tones, Madam Maxime shaking her head violently. "I hope she gets a good mark."

"What about Diggory?" Gwen said, frowning.

"Well, he's hardly going to win this one anyway, is he? I'd rather Delacour win than Krum."

Draco shot her a betrayed look. "Well, I would! She didn't throw the Quidditch World Cup with a stupid panic catch."

"It was a tactical move—"

"It was still a loss in the final—"

"Yeah, but he did it on his terms—"

"And would you do that?"

"Well, no, but—"

"Maxime's given her a nine!" Pansy shouted, putting a stop to their bickering with a sharp look. "Dumbledore — seven! That's rubbish, come on, it was only a little singe!" Aurora looked over, watching as the final three judges put up their scores — sixes from Karkaroff and Crouch, and another seven from Bagman.

"That's thirty-five," Aurora said quickly. "She should have gotten higher, though."

"Agreed," Gwen said, glaring at the judges. "Karkaroff's definitely not being fair."

Draco snorted, giving Gwen an incredulous look. "Did you expect—"

There was a great and sudden roar that drew their attention back to the arena. The leash holding the Swedish Short-Snout had snapped, and it barrelled forward.

Everything seemed to happen at once. One moment, everything was still, the dragon poised, and then Aurora saw the shadow appear before her, blackening the clouds above her. A plume of flame shot from the dragon, and screams went up as judges dived out of the way.

The flame dove straight towards Barry Crouch. Aurora wasn't sure if she screamed or not, but the sound of it filled her ears anyway, as a terrifying cold feeling raced up her spine. It was coming — a sense of dread, of death, nauseating and overpowering and burning through her as surely as the dragonflame burned through the judges' table towards Mister Crouch.

A rattling sound was all that seemed able to subdue the dragon, but it did nothing for the screaming, as everyone watched the judges, stunned. Barty Crouch had fallen, it seemed, and Madam Pomfrey rushed over, accompanied by Snape and McGonagall. Draco was leaning over the barrier to watch but Aurora drew back, horrified, with a sickening twist in her stomach.

A white sheet was drawn over Crouch and he was drawn away, and the screaming turned to stunned whispers as Bagman darted forward, shaking.

"We'll — well, we'd best just wrap it up there," he yelled over the sounds of the students, some of whom were already retreating further into the stands or thundering down the stairs. "The next task'll be February twelfth — no, no, twenty fourth! Oh, and I'd advise you all to dress warm. We've got plenty... we..." He mumbled something like the word 'excitement' and Aurora grimaced, fighting cold as she tried to follow the movements into the medical tent. "Well, lots happening! Lots to do!" He made to dart away and then doubled back to add, "Er, if you please, do not engage with the dragons on your way out. If you haven't realised, they are rather... Volatile."

"That's rather an understatement," Theodore murmured, as people started to whisper in frightened, cold hushed, and disperse around them.

"You don't think Crouch is dead, do you?" Gwen asked, voice shaking as she stared back in horror.

"Ever cheerful, Tearston," Pansy muttered, taking Aurora's arm.

"We didn't see anything," Aurora said as evenly as she could. She hadn't seen Death, at any rate, but there had been that darkness, that strange feeling. Her gaze was drawn back over her shoulder, but there was nothing evidently amiss in the stands, nothing except her own creeping feeling of unease. "He might have just gotten a fright and fallen. The dragons — the dragons are well-handled."

"The dragons are dragons," Robin said, and Aurora felt this was a rather good point.

She curled her hand nervously into a fist, and Pansy brushed a hand over it.

"He'll be fine. He knew what he was getting into."

"That dragon could have killed me, you know," Draco was already starting to claim, "it looked at us, didn't it, didn't you see?"

"Oh, don't," Pansy whined to him, dragging Aurora away. She too looked a lot more shaken than she wanted to let on. "Look, he's fine. He has to be. And the next task is in February, Bagman didn't seem too worried, did he?"

"Well," Theodore said drily, "with all respect, Pansy, I don't think him screaming that he thought his colleague was going to die would be great for the school spirit."

Pansy threw him a glare and stalked away. "Madam Pomfrey can fix anything," she said, "and all the others are patched up fine and they were way closer."

"And the dragon was angry with them," Aurora agreed faintly.

Still, there had been something disconcerting about the dragon attacking Crouch. That wasn't how this was meant to go. That wasn't sport, that was just terrifying. And the flame had been strange, in a way she couldn't put her finger on.

"And we've got, what, a month left before Christmas," Pansy was continuing a conversation Aurora wasn't entirely aware they were having, "And then the new term always flies by. I for one, just want to know what we needed to bring dress robes for." She looked over her shoulder to Draco as she said this — though he, predictably, remained oblivious.

Swept along by the crowd, Aurora helped to speculate faintly on the need for robes, and whether there would be a formal dance or not. But at the edge of the enclosure as they left, she caught sight of a strange sort of shimmer in the air. A shadow stirred on the ground, only for a second, before it disappeared. A cold and sudden breeze whispered in her ear and she felt, quite suddenly, a burst of pain inside of her head, a feeling like lightning racing down throughbher. She stumbled, her vision darkening for a second, and grabbed a desperate hold of Draco's arm to stop herself.

The pain was gone as soon as it had come, a quick and awful migraine, but some sort of darkness remained, a shadow over the arena. She was all too aware of the sound of her heart thundering in her chest.

"Come on," Draco said, tugging her arm, when he realised she had stopped.

"What's wrong?" Pansy asked, tightening her grip on Aurora's arm.

"What are you staring at?"

"Nothing," she said quickly, and Draco's eyes narrowed as he stared around. "I was just thinking about something."

Her cousin looked like he might argue against this for a moment, as Aurora scrambled for a better explanation as to why she had suddenly become so transfixed upon the sandy enclosure, but then he shrugged, and let the matter drop. When they passed the judges' table, it was only Karkaroff left standing there, staring into space.

The same space Aurora had been staring at.

She turned, unsettled, and saw Potter, Weasley, and Granger in agitated conversation with a red-haired dragon handler who looked very much like he could have been another Weasley brother. When Potter caught Aurora's gaze, he frowned at her, and there was something uncertain in his eyes, some sort of unspoken question as he looked between her and Draco and Pansy, and then Karkaroff and the medical tent beyond which none of them could follow.

He tilted his head, and slowly, heart thundering, she nodded. She did not know what the question was, but from the stricken, hesitant look on his face, she felt she needed to find out.

Cold prickled the back of her neck again, a shadow fell upon them, and she tried to ignore the hissing wind as they made their way back to the castle.