Author's Note: Special thanks to Stromsten for pointing out a very serious usage error I've been making since chapter 1.

Chapter 13: Fulfilling the Prophecy

Days before the first challenge

As soon as Harry had discovered that the challenge would involve dragons, he had made his way over to warn Cedric Diggory. The Hufflepuff had been very thankful, even further convinced that Harry had no interest in winning the Tri-Wizard Tournament and had not entered himself. He had been suspicious at first, but he quickly changed his mind after seeing how Harry had reacted to his inclusion. Cedric thanked Harry, but the younger wizard just shrugged his shoulders. Telling Cedric was the right thing to do. All the other champions knew what the challenge was going to be.

The next thing Harry did was find Hermione. Even without the Marauder's map, which Moody had taken earlier in the year, he knew right where she was.

"Okay Hermione, what can you tell me about dragons?"

Hermione's eyes went wide. "You think Ron's prophecy is true?"

"Well, let's just say that I'd rather be prepared than barbecued."

"Perfectly understandable," Hermione answered with a hesitant smile. It was hard to be cheerful when her best friend was forced to face off against dragons. Without needing to consult Madame Pince, the school librarian, the young Gryffindor girl went straight to the section of books dealing with dragons and pulled out a few large tomes. "I noticed these titles when I was doing a bit of light reading on magical creatures. Frightfully interesting topic. I haven't had time to read through them all yet, but I did learn a few things about dragons that may be useful."

Harry learned quite a bit about dragons just from Hermione's quick summary. There were many kinds of dragons, but the ones most wizards (and Muggles for that matter) were familiar with were the "Great" dragons. The Great dragons were of a colossal size, yet their powerful wings enabled them to fly through the air at incredible speeds. Their scaly skin was thick and durable, strong enough to withstand all but the strongest of blasts and attacks while their teeth and claws were as sharp as goblin-wrought swords. And it only got worse from there.

Dragons were magical by nature and possessed cunning and intelligence at least equal to that of wizards. Fortunately, the last actual spell-casting dragons had been defeated by the wizard-knight, Saint George of Romania over 700 years before the founding of Hogwarts. However, all dragons are still innately very powerfully magical. This manifested in their ability to resist magical effects, their fiery magical breath (so powerful it could reach temperatures great enough to melt stone), in their incredible magical sight, as well as in the incredible magical aura they possessed.

Harry was shocked to discover that many dragons possessed powerful Legilimency, and as such meeting a dragon's gaze was often fatal. Not automatically as from a basilisk, but with a glance into your eyes they could freeze you in place before destroying you with their breath or claws, if they didn't tear your mind to pieces and leave you a blathering idiot. More powerful dragons had an aura of fear and despair that could render wizards and knights alike paralyzed with fright, as well as could suppress magical charms and enchantments. What was more, their powerful magical eyes were able to penetrate illusions and detect magical effects.

The more Harry read, the less he felt like competing in the tournament.

"Potter!" came a harsh voice from behind him.

Harry spun around, trying to hide his anxiety. It was Mad-eye Moody. Was he going to try and do something to him now? The professor motioned for Harry to join him. Harry stood, but didn't move from his table.

"Sir?" Harry asked, his hand moving to rest on Hermione's forearm, needing her for backup.

"A word with you, Mr. Potter," Moody repeated and again gestured that Harry should join him.

"Oh, of course, sir, but I'm here with Hermione. We can go ahead and discuss it right here, sir. I'm sure Hermione can be trusted." Unlike Alastor Moody. Harry had no intention of being alone with the former auror, the man Dumbledore suspected of being the one who had forced him to enter the Tri-Wizard tournament.

Moody was about to object when he saw the books that Harry and Hermione were studying. He nodded with approval. "I see you and Miss Granger are studying up on dragons. That's good. Can't be too prepared. So, what is your plan, Potter? How do you intend to get past it?"

Get past it? Harry had not been aware of the nature of the challenge before. He was thinking of how to kill or incapacitate the beast. But if all he had to do was get around it… Harry wondered if Moody was supposed to be telling him this.

"Sir, are you supposed to be…you know…helping me? Isn't that sort of against the rules?" At that, Hermione shot the one-eyed professor a disapproving look. A professor not following the rules? Scandalous!

Moody snorted, then went on a short rant about how the other champions were getting 'illegal' help from their headmasters. He nearly spat Karkaroff's name when he talked about Krum. "…and I can assure you that each of the other three are making a plan right now that plays to their strengths. So, Potter, what is it that you're good at?"

"Well, I'm getting okay at Charms, and my Defense is good for a Fourth Year," he began.

"Bah, Fourth Year spells won't cut it against a dragon, boy," he growled out, before his tongue flicked up to lick his lips. Then he took a quick swig on a metal flask. "What is it you're truly gifted at?" Moody pressed.

"Well, I can fly, sir, everyone says I'm good at flying," Harry replied.

"More than just 'good' from what I hear," Moody responded. "You're too young to overpower a dragon, Mr. Potter, but no reason you can't outfly it while it will be chained down."

"But sir, I'm not allowed to bring a broom…"

"You're allowed your wand, ain't ya?" he retorted.

And with that, Moody stumped away.

.

On his way to see Dumbledore, Harry noticed Fleur Delacour and her entourage of French witches. He was about to walk past them when he felt a tug of his conscience. It wasn't fair that he had pieces of information that the others did not. Moody really should not have given him knowledge of the task ahead of time.

"Um, Fleur," Harry called out to her nervously has he approached.

He saw the blond roll her eyes, and the other girls around her had a similar reaction. Harry frowned to himself. Perhaps she thought he had cheated his way—

And then it hit him. Harry suddenly found himself unable to think clearly. All he saw was the beautiful woman before him. Fleur…how her hair flowed…how the shape of her bosom—

The inner voice inside him, then one that cared about if he killed his friends or not, the one that cared if he did what was right or wrong, recognized the effect he was under. With a shake of his head, and a short stumble, Harry cleared his mind. It had been a lot like being under the Imperius, but not nearly as strong. He took a couple more steps forward, finding the effect increasing somewhat, but he maintained control of himself. Now that he could feel the effect of the compulsion, it wasn't so hard to control.

"What 'iz it, monsieur Potter?" Fleur asked him disdainfully. "Do you 'ave a love po'em to share with me, too?" she asked in a tone that showed just how little she would care if he had.

"Um, no," Harry answered. "Actually, I have something to tell you about the first challenge of the tournament. I got some information that I don't think is fair for just me to know."

At that proclamation, Fleur turned back to Harry in a little surprise. She had expected him to be tripping all over himself to try and ask her out. All the boys did. Still, she was not all that favorably inclined to the boy who had obviously cheated his way into the tournament and then lied about it. Perhaps this was a clever way to try and ingratiate himself?

"I know you know that the first challenge in the tournament will be dragons," he started. He saw her eyes widen in surprise of his knowledge of what she had learned. She had not realized he had seen her when he was out with Hagrid. That it was dragons was the news she had expected Harry to attempt to woo her with, but it was something else? "What you might not know is that we have to get past the dragons, not defeat them in a battle. And from what I heard, the dragons will be chained down. Just thought you ought to know."

Fleur and the girls with her looked at Harry in surprise. Madame Maxime had not shared that with her. This would change her approach.

"Well, um, good luck in the tournament," Harry offered lamely. "I'll be telling Cedric and Viktor later," and Harry started to walk away.

"Wait," Fleur called out to him. "Why did you tell me 'zis, Monsieur Potter?" Harry watched as she cocked her head to the side, her hair silky and radiant in the—Harry realized that he was being affected by the allure of her Veela heritage. It had suddenly more than doubled in strength.

"Well," Harry began, "I just thought it wouldn't be fair if I knew about this and nobody else did." He gave her a smile and started to walk away.

"So, you did not do 'zis for me?" She did not add, "because I'm beautiful," but it was what she meant.

Harry shook his head. "I'm just trying to do what's right."

And then he walked on, leaving the part-Veela champion staring after him. He didn't see the smile on her face as she watched him leave. Fleur Delacour no longer thought Harry Potter had entered himself into the tournament. Nor did she think he was like all the other boys who succumbed to her innate charms.

For Harry's part, he felt relieved to be away from the French champion. He didn't like the feeling of a compulsion. But he had a lot to think about because of that brief little encounter. He had felt big fluctuations in the power of the magic that radiated out from her. The closer he had gotten the stronger it was, it had increased dramatically when she was tossing her hair. Then, when he had started to walk away, he had felt the effects drop tremendously. Was a Veela's natural power affected by belief in the same way a wizard or witch's magical power was? Would that be different from a dragon?

Harry entered Dumbledore's office with those thoughts on his mind.

.

Harry stepped out onto the field with an exhale of his breath. Time to face his dragon.

Dumbledore had, of course, worked with him on some strategies for dealing with the dragon. Honestly, nothing said that Harry actually had to perform well on the task. He just had to make a show of trying. Everyone would be satisfied with that. The Headmaster suggested a strategy of staying as far away from the dragon as possible while tossing out a few token spells and making a run into the arena, yet still in the "safe" area the dragon could not actually reach, and then wait for time to run out.

The school headmaster had also gone over some of the plans he and Hermione had come up with. Dumbledore was quite impressed with the young witch's suggestions, though he did note the potential dangers each one placed Harry in. If the dragon shrug off his spells he would be in a vulnerable position. Still, they did have potential, and Albus Dumbledore knew that Harry was powerful enough to break through the dragon's resistance.

The Hogwarts Headmaster had a less favorable opinion of Moody's suggestion to try to out-fly the dragon. Not that Harry was incapable of pulling it off, it wasn't a completely horrible idea, but there were so many things that could go wrong. If someone were to hex his broom at just the wrong moment…there were just too many variables and dangers.

Of course, the main reason Harry was out there participating was not to try and win. It was so that Bill Weasley, his godfather, Remus, and a few other wizards could break into Alastor Moody's office and try to find some evidence of what was going on and if he had any confederates. Moody had warded his office quite thoroughly, so much so that it would take a significant amount of time for anyone to break in. This challenge was a distraction that would surely keep Moody occupied.

But only Harry knew his second objective. And it wasn't to win the stupid challenge.

Idiot Ron. He should just let the git get what was coming to him. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, to let Ron suffer the consequences. Ron had been his best friend for so long. No, he had to make sure Ron didn't end up in Azkaban or ostracized as a fraud.

Harry had, of course, heard Ron yelling outside the Champions' Tent. At first he had thought Ron was going to insult him. But then the redhead had implored him not to face the dragon. Harry knew he should still be furious with Ron, and he was, but it really felt good that his friend had come to beg him not to go through with facing the dragon.

"Harry," a voice called from just behind him. It was Arthur Weasley, disillusioned so that nobody else would see him. "Dumbledore wanted me to let you know he can still stop this if you want. Bill and the others will probably finish up soon, and we can make a delay..."

"No, Mr. Weasley, I'll do it," Harry answered.

"Alright. In that case, Dumbledore said he was curious which plan you were going to use. If you don't mind telling."

Harry smiled to himself. There was only one plan that would really help Ron. "Tell the Headmaster that I'm going with 'Plan A'. He'll know which one I mean."

Then Harry strode forward. Time to face his dragon.

As he approached, he saw just how huge the creature was. Hungarian Horntail. According to his (and Hermione's) research, they were the most aggressive of the four dragons that were being used for the tournament, and especially vicious when protecting eggs, as this one was.

Just before he started to enter the area, a loud shouting voice carried over the rest of the crowd. It was Ron. ""Harry! Harry! You don't have to do this! Don't go out there, mate! Please!"

Harry scowled to himself. He could hear the sincere fear and concern in Ron's voice. And that was exactly why he couldn't just abandon the challenge. That's what mates do for each other. Face bloody murderous dragons.

But the sound of Ron's cries, the fear in them, was a symptom of the greater fear and expectation of the crowd. Nearly everyone present was certain that Harry was going to fail this task. Most were pretty sure he was going to be eaten. And as Harry walked forward, he could feel the oppressive despairing aura of the dragon itself. The dragon was certain of the outcome as well.

So was Harry. But he couldn't have the dragon chomping on him just yet. He needed to turn the feeling in the stadium into something less sure to get him eaten prematurely, before he could fulfill the rest of Ron's prediction.

Which was why he strode forward, careful to mark the range of the dragon's furthest possible attack and stopped comfortably outside of that. Everyone in the stadium thought he was bonkers for doing so, but Harry had no doubts that Hermione had gotten the distance right. Each step had taken him deeper into the dragon's aura of fear. But Harry showed none.

"All of you think I have come here to die," Harry shouted defiantly. "You believe this beast is too strong for a little Fourth Year." The dragon roared mightily, but Harry still stood there, making himself heard by those in the nearest seats. "But I think you're all forgetting something very important," he paused. "I'm HARRY POTTER! I am the one who destroyed Voldemort. I'm the one who destroyed dementors! I didn't ask for this," he said, letting that hang for a second, "but I will show you that I am not afraid this challenge, this dragon, or fate itself!"

And then he drew his wand.

There. He could feel it. The collective breaths of crowd was held, waiting to see what he would do, and in their expectation, the certainty of his death and the prophecy was suspended. The very aura of the dragon before him lessened in intensity.

And then Harry pointed his wand. Not at the dragon, but at the ground in front of him.

"CONFRINGO!" he shouted, pouring his magic into the blasting curse.

The ground in front of him erupted in dirt and dust, the resulting explosion of earth showering the stadium in a choking cloud of debris that hung in the air for a while, obscuring everything. Even from the eyes of a dragon.

Harry used the time to quickly transfigure a number of rocks into simple stone golems that looked exactly like himself, down to the clothes he was wearing. It was by far the most difficult part of his plan.

"Accio Shooting Star!" he called, summoning the prepared item from the stadium where Hermione had put it. And then Harry transfigured the earth in front of him into an embankment. The dust began to settle and Harry cast a complex series of charms on the golems he had created, bringing them to life and sending them out from the earth embankment to run off in front of the dragon. It was a good thing charms were a lot simpler than transfiguration.

"Confundus!" he incanted, aiming for the deadly eyes of the Hungarian Horntail. The dragon was powerful. Harry could feel the strength of its resistance. But it was already confused by the shower of earth and the appearance of a dozen copies of the tiny wizard. Harry felt his hex take hold, and the mighty eyes of the dragon would no longer see quite so clearly.

Now it was time for him to get going. "Terra Defodio Maximus!" Harry incanted just as the Hungarian Horntail roared its flaming breath, burning the entire line of Harry Potters he had sent out towards the dragon, down to the end.

When the last Potter golem in the line had burned, out came the Shooting Star, zipping up into the air. The figure on the broom turned and twisted, leading the incensed dragon further and further away from the eggs. And then, after a couple minutes of aerobatic daring, the broom shot down, right past the dragon. The Hungarian Horntail swiveled its head and chomped down on the broom and rider with a sickening crunch.

Screams and cries went up throughout the crowd. Ron's wails were the loudest of all.

And then Harry Potter leaned over to the scorer's table and showed them his golden egg. "So, what do you all think? Do I get a good score?"

.

It took a few minutes for the crowd to realize that Harry had not actually died. When the dust settled and the Hungarian Horntail was led out of the stadium by the dragon handlers, the entire audience could see the newly-dug tunnel that led from the massive hole that Harry had created at the start of the encounter to the nest of eggs and then back to the judge's table. They could also make out a broken stone golem next to the splintered broom. The applause from the crowd was deafening.

When the final points were tallied, Harry received nearly a perfect score, even Karkaroff giving Harry 9 out of 10 marks. There was a cry from the press for Harry to say something. And so Harry made his way up to the stage. Just a few steps from the podium, the Boy-Who-Lived suddenly stumbled, falling flat on his face. There was a gasp. And then Harry climbed back to his feet, looking sheepish.

With a quick cast of sonorous, Harry addressed the crowd of reporters.

"I would like to thank all of you for your support and cheers. You don't know how much your faith and belief in me means," Harry began. They really had no idea. "I have to thank all my professors at Hogwarts as well, without who I would never have been able to do what I did today," he said, giving a very respectful nod to the assembled professors.

Hermione quietly seethed. It was supposed to be 'whom' not 'who' and Harry had used a double negative! Honestly. She shook her head.

Oblivious to Hermione's frustration, Harry continued. "I'd also like to thank my dear friend, Hermione Granger," he said gesturing towards the witch who was now blushing red at the praise, all thoughts of grammar correction flying from her mind. "I doubt I could have come up with half as brilliant a plan as using the gouging spell to avoid the dragon." Harry gave her a smile and waited for the crowd to give her some much deserved applause for her work. Then Harry turned to one other person, someone not expecting to be singled out. "But most of all, I want to thank my best mate…Ron Weasley, a true seer."

Ron was completely shocked, staring up as Harry gestured for the redhead to come forward and join him. Ron very reluctantly joined Harry up on the podium, completely bewildered by this turn of events. There were still tear stains on his cheeks from where he had cried at what he had thought had been Harry's death.

"Thank you, Ron," Harry said, looking his friend in the eyes very intently. Then he turned back to the crowd. "Without Ron's prophecy, I would have been roasted by that dragon. Or eaten. Or both. But 'forewarned is forearmed'," Harry quoted. And then he repeated the prophecy: "The boy who destroyed the Dark Lord shall fall. When the shadow of the dragon clouds the hallowed grounds then will flame burn the last of the Potter line and the Boy-Who-Lived be seen within the jaws of the beast."

A murmur went up from the crowd.

Photos of a triumphant Harry holding up his egg were taken. Then it was Harry, Ron, and Hermione standing together. And then just Harry, standing with one hand on Ron's shoulder, a smile plastered on both of their faces.

.

Ron was bewildered. Not that such was an uncommon situation, but today he was particularly confused by events. First, he had realized what a ridiculous prat he'd been being, but too late to do anything about it. Then he saw Harry die. Then, not be dead. And then, most puzzling of all, Harry had thanked him for making up a prophecy that had nearly killed his friend. What the hell?

Ron hadn't seen Harry since the challenge and brief photo-shoot. With all the photos and the celebrating, they both were just completely busy. And then the cheer went up in the Gryffindor common room for the hero of the day, but Ron waited in their bedroom for his friend to appear. A minute later, Harry walked into the boys' dormitory. The dark haired boy strode across the room with a smile on his face.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed, a wild smile on his face, too. It felt so good to have his best mate back!

CRACK!

Harry's fist connected with Ron's jaw and the redhead found himself on the dorm floor, stars going off in his head. Ow. Ron Weasley felt like he was about to sick up, but managed to crawl off the floor and brace himself on his bed.

At least now he wasn't bewildered.

"Don't you ever make a prophecy about me like that again, Ron," Harry said with a voice so coldly angry that the castle ghosts got a chill.

"Yeah, mate," Ron replied, spitting a bit of blood. At least he hadn't lost any teeth. "No worries on that. I never want to do that again. Are…are we mates again?" Ron looked over at his first, and best friend.

"Yeah, Ron, we're still mates," Harry said breaking a small smile. "But you know all those chocolate frogs you've gotten because you're the famous seer?" Ron listened questioningly, "You've got to give them all to me."

Ron paled. No…not the chocolate frogs! When would the suffering ever end?