Obligatory Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any character, story element or plot item originally published in the Harry Potter books or movies that I may refer to in this story. I'm merely playing in the sandbox.
Chapter 6
Harry entered the tent with a sigh. He hadn't liked walking outside the castle, liked it even less when he had to shed his cloak, happy to have the newest version of the Go Away Disk, as Remus had named it. It had an on/off rune that he could activate as necessary and would store more power. This version ran for four hours between charges. He still charged it every class but was happy to have a buffer if he needed it.
He paused at the entryway to the tent, took a breath, then pushed through, mentally triggering the switch as he had his hand in his pocket, holding the disk. As he stepped in, several eyes snapped in his direction. Noticing him, the adults stopped talking. The Champions had been silent already.
"Harry, good to see you," Professor Dumbledore smiled, gesturing to an empty bench. "We will be with you shortly."
Harry nodded politely. "Yes, headmaster."
He sat and took note of the others. Diggory was in a black and yellow robe, clearly showing his Hufflepuff colors. The visiting students were dressed in colors similar to the clothing they'd entered the school in. He wondered if those were school colors. They will stand out too much. He smoothed his own gray and black robes, checking for a few things there. The rules said that he could only bring a wand, but that was related to offensive work. Remus and Sirius had spent time working on his lessons while he was in normal classes but had also become very well versed in the rule book for the Tournament.
His robes had several concealed pockets with healing potions and a few other prank style items that could be used for a distraction, after modifications by the two remaining Marauders. The robe coloring had been done to match the stonework of the arena. It wasn't perfect, but it was close enough to allow him to call it a coincidence. Between that, his extra gear and several plans that were in place for options to take on the dragons that may be assigned to him, Harry felt as prepared as possible short of calling in an air strike from the nonmagical military.
The other competitors ignored each other, seeming to go over plans in their heads. Harry simply waited. Finally, the officials turned to face them. "Now, we have the other part of our surprise. The Champions...and Potter...will come up and place their hand in the bag and select an item. The item will tell them the order of competition and what they will face. Hopefully no one will disgrace this fine Tournament with dark magic." The spokesman from the ministry looked directly at Harry has he said this.
Harry turned a cold gaze to the heavy-set man but was satisfied to see that the competitors did as well. Dumbledore actually spoke. "Ludo, that was unprofessional."
The man ignored the responses, then smiled what he clearly thought was a winning smile. "Ladies first."
The others drew, then Harry stepped forward, taking his dragon. "Couldn't find you a robe that fit, could they, Bagman?" There was a snort behind him, but he smiled coldly to the man. "Guess what they say is right. Too many bludgers can wreck more than just a career."
As the man sputtered, Harry turned his back on him, dropping the smile and returning to his bench. The Horntail, the largest of the dragons, had the number "4" around its neck. Harry nodded. Best for last. Better show that way.
Crouch continued when Bagman had been silenced by Dumbledore. "You are to face your dragons and retrieve a golden egg that they will be guarding. Points will be deducted for other eggs being damaged. Winner has the best time crossing the line on the other side of the arena." With that, he left unceremoniously.
Harry watched as the other judges left. He eyed his statue for a moment, then slipped it into a pocket. It had gone dormant once he touched the number but thought the little statue would look nice on his mantle.
He laid back on the bench and was silent as the others left one at a time, signaled by a Ministry worker each time. Finally, his name was called. This worker, unlike his boss, had simply said it. He'd not shown disgust. Harry nodded politely to him as well, thanking him quietly. He walked down to the arena, passing through a perceptible ward barrier. "All right, let's do this."
The dragon guarded her nest and Harry took in the details. The Horntail was chained down, a length of chain allowing it to move a good distance. Harry estimated half the arena. There was booing from the stands and several people calling out for him to just use the Killing Curse. "Looks like Dumbledore's little speech that morning was useful. Stupid Magicals."
There was a quell in the crowd and he realized that there was something in the wards to make his whispers audible. He was half tempted to fire off a cannon blast just to deafen the idiots, but assumed he'd get a fireball for his little prank on the audience. His eyes fell back on the dragon. It watched him carefully, but actually edged away from the nest. Tempting me? Weird, that plays into one of my plans.
Harry slowly raised his wand, not moving for a long moment as the dragon watched him, then shot a stream of fire at the nest, carefully heating the stones and the eggs. The dragon reared back to return fire, but then paused. Something about the nest caught its attention. After a moment, it nosed into the eggs and moved an item then lifted it and spat it to one side of the area, away from the nest. Harry put his wand away, walking slowly over to the golden egg.
He could sense the dragon's stare the entire time, but kept moving slowly, as though he didn't have a care in the world. In his head, he was hearing Sirius's words as they talked about this plan. Dragon eggs have to be kept at specific temperatures. Remus contacted the goblins to find out the nature of the golden egg. They weren't prevented from telling anyone about the eggs themselves, just the contents of the egg. They are magically protected against summoning, fire, pressures up to ten times what a dragon weighs...you name it, they thought of it. You can't generate fire hot enough to hurt those eggs, though, Harry. Not without dark magic. Just light them up and wait. The egg will show as cold to the dragon's eyes. They can track warmth like we do light. The dragon will think it's a dead egg or something and get rid of it.
He smiled as he approached the egg. Again, slowly, he drew his wand and cleaned the egg. Putting the wand away, he lifted the metal object and turned back to the judges, living it once as though to say, "I did it." From there, he slowly walked the perimeter of the arena and away from the massive murder lizard waiting for him to make a mistake. Once past the line that marked the end of the trial, he stopped around the medical tent, activated his disk, then walked back to the castle, casually tossing his invisibility cloak around him. Sirius would love that part. They'd never have a clue where he went.
"Always leave them wondering, eh, Sirius."
Hermione sat in the stand, incredulous at what she was seeing as each of the champions walked in and faced off with dragons. All of them had done pretty well, each getting docked points for injuries or for damaging the eggs, but when Harry walked in, she was shocked by the vitriol that had spewed forth from the crowd. She could actually make out Ronald's voice as he begged him to prove the Dark Lord he is. She wondered if he'd used a spell to cast his voice out. Harry's voice echoing loudly over them, similar venom in his voice as he condemned them all making her sit back, shoulder's sagging.
Harry, seeming to attack the nest, had shocked them into silence, but when he stood back and watched the dragon simply spit the egg across the arena, she had a sudden memory of a wooden hut that was so hot she could barely breathe when she stood in it. He knew. He knew it was dragons.
The "how" of things never got another thought as the judges called him repeatedly to get his scores. Soon, the officials announced that he was gone, no one had seen him in the medical tent, and he wasn't in the arena. She glanced over to Flitwick, thinking again that she'd wish she'd chosen Ravenclaw. For some reason, the small wizard had a broad smile on his face. She'd have to ask him about that.
She walked with the rest of the school inside, looking around at the others. Some of the ones who had yelled the insults were quiet, but she noticed some that seemed angrier that he hadn't proved them right. Once again, she noticed the strange similarities between Ronald and Draco. Both were trying to stir others up. They were even using the same arguments, that a good Dark Lord would hide behind a "cloak of light." She snorted to herself quietly that she'd heard both use the same phrase.
"I guess purebloods are all the same."
"Hermione?"
Ginny was by her side, and she didn't realize that she'd almost passed the stairs to the entrance of the tower. "Yes? Sorry, I was thinking."
"Is Harry evil?"
"I don't...I don't think so. I have never seen any sign except that question, and you know what Dumbledore said."
"Mum told me to stay away from him and she banished him from the Burrow. I just don't...he saved me."
"Me, too. I'd have to sit down and run the score, but I think he's saved me more than I've saved him." They'd have to call the incident with Sirius a wash, she had no idea how to score the time travel part. She was sure she saved both of them with the howling but didn't know how to count that since it had drawn Lupin to their future selves instead of their past selves. "Does it matter? He's gone."
"Yeah. I just always thought...not that it matters." Ginny walked away with her head down.
You thought you might date him or marry him. So did a few others, I think. Hermione shook her head and wondered how much upheaval had been caused by one simple question. Deep down, she would admit to herself that she was curious after he asked. Other than her conversation with Flitwick, she'd never admitted it again.
Inside the common room, there was more turmoil, making her realize that there was no way she'd get any reading done here. Some of them were wanting to celebrate Harry's score, best of the Tournament. Ron was raging at the others and causing more chaos.
"I don't want to be part of this." She turned around and walked out. "Dinner is in an hour, time to go to the library."
The familiar path to the library was comforting to her. Soon, she was at her customary table, far down the line of shelves and settled with her bag, pulling out a text on Transfiguration to read.
"Is this seat taken?" The heavily accented voice was unfamiliar, and she looked up.
"No, most don't come here. I tend to chase people off if they are not serious about their studies."
"I can understand that." The Bulgarian Quidditch player sat, pulling his own books out. "I may appreciate a guard. I do not get peace when I try to work on this Tournament."
"I understand, Mr. Krum."
"Please, call me Viktor. I am not big on formalities."
"I'm Hermione." She gestured to his book. "The Magic of Sound?"
"Yes, I am learning about auditory magic. There are some applications that may apply to the Tournament." His tone was suddenly guarded.
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Harry and I are not speaking anymore, if you would like to know." Her tone was a little less friendly, not that she'd been warm to him at first.
"I am sorry. He seemed like a dedicated student. I had just thought that you were likely to be friends with him."
Strangely, the statement hurt more than she'd realize. "I used to be. I decided I needed to make some changes in my life. Seek a quieter life."
Krum nodded. "Again, I understand that."
"You play Quidditch, though."
"I do, but I can make money for doing so. That will help my family."
Hermione put a few pieces together. "That makes sense. Let me know if you want help finding things. I'm rather acquainted with this library."
She turned back to her book and began making notes, considering how this would apply to the upcoming lessons. Krum glanced at her from time to time, then seemed to relax. Hermione wondered about that, but just flipped her page and continued on.
A/N: Have I said in this story how insane the magical world is? I mean, I know I implied it, but have I said it? For an example, the idea of a 17-year-old man (sort of…are we really adults at 17?) approaching a 15-year-old (I think, by this point) with the interest of dating in any manner makes me cringe. I'm only going to include this for one point: historically, this seems to match the Victorian era attitudes of the wizarding world.
In this story, I apply that more than I do in other pieces I work on. As a father, though, I would probably take the young man on a hike with a few friends and educate him on the facts of reality and the law. We will assume that Mr. Granger has either done so at some point in the summer or encouraged an Auror to do so, assuming that they make it to that point. This story, like Forging when I wrote it, is basically complete, but I will admit that I have no idea what the future holds for them.
Setting that little bit aside, the first trial is complete. I don't know that I've seen this method of solving the problem before. I have seen Parseltongue, combat, summoning spells (whoever wrote the story where Hermione competed and basically solved every puzzle with the summoning charm had me laughing the entire story), but never just warming the egg. The idea of a dragon seeing in infrared just seems to make sense to me. For those who wonder, I was visualizing that their eyes viewed the world like a Predator's POV in the movies. There's a nightmare for you, the Alien/Predator comics had various animals infected with Face Huggers to become the Xenomorphs. What would a dragon look like converted into a Xenomorph? Worse, a Queen?
Anyway, that was a relatively serious chapter ::fires stunning spell at the first reader to say it:: but the next one is a bit more fun. The beginning of my favorite arc, though, is yet to come. Thanks for reading!