'Dear Sirius,
That tournament you mentioned, you may recall I was given the offer to enter myself legally and I declined? Dumbledore gave me the same offer as he was setting up the Goblet of Fire, where I again turned him down. But, despite the fact I had no interest in competing, somehow my name came out of the Goblet as a fourth champion, along with a magical oath to force me to compete.
Moody thinks somebody did it to get me killed, which looks like a real possibility given there isn't a way for me to leave. Then, me and the Ravenclaws had a falling out, which means most of the House now hates me. The Hufflepuffs hate me because the other Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory, who is a Hufflepuff prefect. Even the Gryffindors hate me, because I was entered and don't want to compete, but they did want to compete and weren't entered.
It seems like the only people who aren't against me are my friends and the Slytherins, although I'm fairly sure the latter is due to the fact they prefer a Ravenclaw over a Hufflepuff. It's like my second year all over again, where the entire school has decided I'm guilty of something even after the teachers have said I'm innocent.
I'm just so lonely, all the time I either get ignored or mocked. My friends are a huge help, but they have their own lessons they need to attend, leaving me alone for hours on end. I don't understand why I could willingly spend my time alone a year ago, but now that my solitude has been forced upon me, it feels suffocating.
More than that, I'm scared of dying, Sirius. Everyone keeps assuring me I know enough to get through this, that I have enough power, but the truth is that just doesn't help. My main magical knowledge is in theoretical magic, arts which I am a long way from even attempting. So what does it matter if I can do a wandless levitation charm if a minotaur tramples me to death in the first task?
I can't even make anything from mithril to try and distract me, because the stupid Triwizard codex says 'A contest must not in any way modify their magical core in a significant way, as such a transformation could either damage their magic or give them a significant unfair advantage over their competition. To ensure the cooperation of the champions, their magical oath will try to prevent a champion from attempting such a transformation, or if needed will attempt to undo such a transformation.'
Apparently because my mithril is entirely made from my magic, the Goblet sees it as an attempt to modify my core.
Despite everything I've said, I don't want you to do anything dangerous for my sake Sirius, while I would prefer to be able to talk face to face, I don't think I could stand it if you were caught.
- Harry.'
"So, your name came out of the Goblet of Fire?" Tom asked, not even waiting for the Riddle Manor to fully form within their dream space.
"Yes, it did. No, I did not enter myself." Harry replied moodily. First he has to spend all day answering the same questions, then he has to answer those questions again in his sleep.
"Oh, I know. Rita Skeeter was beside herself, but got shut down quite firmly by Dumbledore. Watch out for her, by the way. She'll be at Hogwarts soon, and she will do anything to get a good story. I would advise you to give her a story, instead of letting her make her own."
"No, what I wanted to do was warn you that I think Voldemort was behind your name being entered. I got a vision of him and a guy called Wormtail were plotting to kill you. They also mentioned they killed Bertha Jorkins, who worked for the Department of Magical Games and Sports, which just happens to be the department running the tournament."
"Great, so not only do I have a tournament to survive, I also have a Dark Lord personally plotting my death."
"Actually, from what I know of Voldemort, you may not have to worry about the tournament. If they wanted you immediately dead, they wouldn't go through the bother of entering you. Put it this way, if they had something of yours strong enough to get you entered, then they could've made a golem that would keep attacking you until you died."
"So the fact they entered me means they want me to die in a way that doesn't leave any evidence?"
"Perhaps, but again, easier ways to do that. An imperioused assassin would also leave no evidence. I would think Voldemort is trying to show off, but having you publicly do well in the tournament, only for him to do something to you and announce his arrival. He did the same thing in the last war, when he publicly executed the minister for magic.
"The execution made the war a reality for the majority of people, pushing Millicent Bagnold into the seat of Minister as a temporary measure. A temporary measure which would last for ten years. But, what people seem to forget is that before that event, Voldemort was about as feared as someone like Antonin Dolohov."
"Fantastic. How likely is it that I'm going to get killed by Voldemort at some point?"
"Honestly? I have no idea. I could be completely wrong, but I'm just warning you because my theory makes sense. But, it would be better for you to focus on the tournament, since anything you learn would work just as easily against Voldemort. I suggest looking into the Restricted section, specifically Magick Moste Evile and Secrets of the Darkest Arts. While most of their spells are dark, they've got several spells and rituals you'd find useful."
A few days later, Harry was hiding near the back of the Charms room, listening to Flitwick give his lecture on Familia Motus, the family for any charm related to movement. They had briefly touched on it the year before with the levitation charm, now they were learning the summoning charm and would eventually move onto the banishment charm.
While he had skipped the practical lesson the day before, seeing even his declined aerokinesis was capable of at least matching most of the movement charms, the theoretical portion was useful. Flitwick wasn't just talking about how the charms had been developed, he also talked about the technical reasons for how they worked.
It was not just fascinating, but also helpful to rekindling his aerokinesis skills.
That was until Colin Creevey knocked and said "Excuse me professor, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter downstairs."
"May I know why?" Flitwick asked kindly.
"Yes sir, Mr Bagman wants him. All the champions have got to go, I think they want to take photographs."
"Very well, Mr Potter, you're free to go." Flitwick called, looking directly towards him.
At those words, the entire class turned towards him, making his notice-not collapse under the scrutiny. Silently, Harry did his best to ignore the stares as he stood and tucked his notebook into an inside pocket. He did his best to leave the room without looking at anyone, although he did give a respectful nod to the professor, who had been kind enough to let him hide under a notice-not.
"It's amazing, isn't it, Harry? Isn't it though? You being champion?" Colin asked excitedly the moment the door shut behind them.
"Not really, I'd much rather have nothing to do with any of it. But enough of me, how are you doing? You stopped coming to our study group." While the boy's over eager attitude could be grating at times, Colin was genuinely likable once you got to know him.
"Yeah, I've been good. Having Denis here is amazing, of course. I've been teaching him the tricks you taught me last year, which has been great fun. Also looking forward to the tournament, it's going to be so great! Well, this is you, good luck!"
Waving at the retreating form of Colin, Harry took a deep breath and stepped into the room. It turned out he was the last champion to arrive. Krum was standing moodily in a dark corner, while Cedric and Fleur were in conversation at the side of the room, the latter giving him a small wave. Apart from them, the only other occupants were Ludo Bagman, Rita Skeeter and her photographer.
"Ah, here he is! Champion number four! In you come, Harry, in you come… nothing to worry about, it's just the Wand Weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment, then we can begin!" Ludo announced excitedly, bounding over to him.
"Wand Weighing?" Harry asked curiously, having never come across the term before.
"We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead." He explained cheerfully "The expert's upstairs with Dumbledore. And then there's going to be a little photo shoot. This is Rita Skeeter, she's doing a small piece on the Tournament for the Daily Prophet."
"Maybe not that small, Ludo. Harry, it is a pleasure to be seeing you again." she said gushingly.
"I didn't realise the two of you knew each other?" Ludo asked, a touch hesitantly.
"We met at the World Cup." Harry explained, trying his hardest to appear polite. He'd like nothing more than to keep far away from Rita or any other reporter, but Gilderoy had been pretty firm in being polite to the press.
"Yes, it was a wonderful event, to say nothing of the events afterwards." Rita added gleefully, earning a scowl from Ludo. "I wonder if we could have a little word, Harry, before we start?"
"If you insist." Harry agreed, letting himself get steered out into a broom cupboard. Raising his eyebrows at her choice of location, Harry gave a negligent wave with the gauntlet ring and vanished all of the dust and dirt, while simultaneously pushing all of Filch's unused cleaning supplies out of the way.
For his final act, he transfigured a nearby box and bucket into two sturdy chairs, making the cupboard far more comfortable.
"My my, it seems your magical prowess wasn't exaggerated… We'll come back to that." Rita purred. "You won't mind if I use a Quick-Quotes Quill, would you Harry?. It leaves me free to talk to you normally."
"I would mind actually. I find the truth is much better represented when it isn't taken out of context." Harry replied, trying to emulate one of Dumbledore's excuses.
Before she could reply, the door was cracked open and Gilderoy Lockhart's face appeared.
"Ah, Harry, I thought I'd find you here." He said cheerfully, letting himself into the cupboard and conjuring a chair of his own. Internally, Harry was quite impressed he had managed the conjuration silently, given he had admitted Transfiguration was not his strongest subject.
"To what do we owe the pleasure, Gilderoy? I did not expect to see you anywhere near here." Rita asked snidely.
"Well, funny story. I was here to talk to Harry, but of course I needed to clear it with the headmaster first. It just happens that as we were speaking the Headmaster mentioned you were here, to wish I correctly assumed you'd want an interview with Harry. I thought to myself 'Gilderoy old chap, you can't condemn dear Harry to such a torture, the least we can do is go and be with him through this trying time.' So here I am!" He finished, smiling unconcernedly, as if he hadn't just insulted the woman.
"How gracious of you." She bit back, just as cheerfully.
"Now, I believe I am correct in assuming Harry has declined the use of your Quick-Quotes Quill? May I suggest one of my own? It's a self-written quill, so you'll still be free to talk to us normally." He suggested pulling out a peacock feather quill and passing it to Rita.
"Why thank you. Now Harry, what made you decide to enter the Triwizard Tournament?"
"I'm glad you asked, since I didn't enter my own name. For some reason, somebody decided to enter my name into the Goblet."
"Come now, Harry, there's no need to be scared of getting into trouble. We all know you shouldn't have really entered-"
"I don't think you heard him, Rita. he said he didn't enter. He has no reason to lie. Now you can either accept that as your story, or find someone else to interview." Gilderoy cut in sternly.
"Come now, Gilderoy, you know our readers love a rebel!" Rita urged.
"I'm sure they do, but that isn't what Harry wants, so it isn't what I want. And of course, what I want, should be what you want."
"Besides, I think you'd like my story." Harry added, wanting to cut off any possible argument.
"And what story is that, dear?" Rita pressed, visibly trying to ignore Gilderoy.
"Well, the age limit was added to prevent people under age from competing, yet somehow my name still got entered. Now, I am the youngest champion by three years, that three years of learning that I simply haven't gotten yet. As it is I like my odds, but imagine if this tournament was rekindled when I was a first year, where the difference would've been six years.
"Then there's the fact that anyone else could've been chosen, even if they weren't in the school. That means a toddler could've been chosen to compete, if whoever entered my name had decided to attack anyone else. The scary part is this revelation was announced in front of two heads of Ministry departments, yet to the best of my knowledge no official investigation has been launched."
"Frightening. So, tell me Harry, were your parents still alive, how do you think they'd react?"
"I'd hope they'd be just as shocked and angry as I am, the fact that the ministry assured us this tournament would be safe but messed up this much in the opening event is ridiculous. The Headmaster did his best to help, of course. The age line he drew would make it impossible for anyone under age to enter themselves, but surely it should be up to the ministry to ensure the defences? While the headmaster is certainly capable, he is busy being the headmaster, then the Ministry hands him the Goblet of fire and asks him to deal with that too?"
"So, you don't think there's anything the headmaster could've done, no resentment that he is forcing you to compete?"
"Is there something he could've done to protect the Goblet, certainly, there's more everyone could've done. Dumbledore could've sealed the cup inside a giant rock, while I could've pitched a tent and watched the cup the entire night. But we didn't, because the ministry had assured us it was safe."
"I couldn't have put it better myself." Dumbledore agreed pleasantly, startling all three of them at his sudden appearance. "However, before we can venture more into that line of thought, the Weighing of the Wands is about to start, and it cannot start if one of our champions is hiding in a broom cupboard."
Leading them back into the room, Dumbledore sat down at the velveted table, joining the other judges.
"May I introduce Mr Ollivander? He will be checking your wands to ensure they are in good condition before the Tournament."
So the ceremony began, starting with Fleur and revealing a rosewood and Veela hair core, a core gained from the head of Fleur's grandmother. Then Cedric was up, with an ash and unicorn hair core, this time not from a family member. Finally Krum was up, with his hornbeam and dragon heartstring core.
Then, it was Harry's turn. Handing over his own wand, he awaited the man's verdict.
"Blackthorn, 10 inches… particularly unyielding, some might even say rigid. White Raven feather core, woven into a petrified elder handle. The wand of a warrior, undoubtedly. The fact this is not your first but your second wand is telling, as is the fact the core is already wearing thin. From the signs, this wand should last you through the year under its current use, but who knows what sort of stress it may be placed under over the Tournament.
"I will begin crafting your next wand promptly, Mr Potter, and together we shall hope your current wand survives regardless."
With that, Harry thought the event was over and was almost out of the door when Bagman cried "Photos, Dumbledore, photos!" That took even longer, since Rita and the photographer kept arguing over his and Fleur's position. Eventually, after the final group photo and the individual photos had been taken, they were allowed out.
Sirius' letter arrived in the middle of his divination lesson, disturbing him from his divining. They were still learning hydromancy, although this time Harry had insisted that he would do both the scrying and the hitting, leaving Neville to write down his vision. At first he had thought nothing was happening, even though he could see the magic within the water moving with every strike of the ring.
But then he saw the image of a merperson floating along the bottom of the bowl, making him realise his bowl of water was showing him the bottom of a lake. He thought he was able to see more, when Corvus II had flown in and disturbed him, cutting his connection and ending the vision.
It felt like the lesson took forever after that, but eventually the lesson ended and he was allowed to leave and find a quiet spot to read.
`Dear Harry,
I believe you when you say you didn't enter yourself, I know you aren't that type of person. Because of that, I agree with Moody, you being entered was not an accident. Be on your guard, we know at least two death eaters are in the castle, while Snape and Igor Karkaroff are both 'former' death eaters, but no one, no one stops being a Deatheater.
That's not even including any potential death eaters within the foreign students. It's often left unsaid, but a good majority of Voldemort's army was made up of former Durmstrang students, there simply were not enough dark Hogwarts students to be a threat. No doubt he promised to help them with their 'problems' if they helped him first.
Then there's Barty Crouch, heart of stone, sent his own son to Azkaban. If he sees you as a threat, I reckon he'd do anything to deal with you. Any one of them could have entered your name.
Reading between the lines of Rita Skeeter's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts. Clearly someone didn't want him at Hogwarts, knowing their job would be harder if he was around to protect you.
But that doesn't help your loneliness, which is something I can relate to. It is hard to be alone, it is far harder to be surrounded by people who don't care for you. All I can say is that I know I care for you a great deal, along with Dumbledore and Professor Flamel. Unfortunately, I know that at your age you need the support of people closer to your own age, and all I have to say is to try and stick it out.
Harry, people are telling you that you will get through this because they know it is true. I was there when you took on a werewolf without too much damage, then went on to fight over a hundred dementors and even killed one. But, don't get reckless, as long as you can keep a cool head, there isn't much that could hurt you. Merlin knows being reckless got me and your father in danger countless times.
Besides, I have every confidence that Dumbledore won't let anyone (Especially you), die in this tournament. No doubt he will have Fawkes on hand to save anyone in danger.
I wish, truly, that I could give more help. Know that I will always believe in you, your loving godfather,
Sirius.'
When Rita's article was published, it was a rather scathing review of how much the ministry had messed up, concluding with how he had been forced to compete against his will. She then went on to tell a glorified but flattering tale of both his childhood victory over 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named', then his success at Hogwarts. A brief note was made over Victor Krum being relatively unknown until he got taken on by the Bulgarian Barons.
Fleur was simply listed as 'French champion, Fleur Delacore, daughter of a French DMLE officer.' While Diggory was limited to 'The original Hogwarts Champion was Cedric Diggeroy.'
The article didn't change much of Harry's standing within the school, the Hufflepuffs now hated him because Diggory barely got a mention. The Gryffindor's were still angry about how he was entered but didn't want to compete, when they did want to compete. Meanwhile the Slytherin's considered the entire thing a joke.
What did change was his standings in the outer world, given later Prophet editions began printing letters of people expressing their support of him, alongside the letters of people demanding the Ministry fix their mistake.
A few days later, Ron told Harry that Hagrid had something to show him, something relating to the tournament. With that ominous message in mind, Harry had made his way down to the man's hut.
"Ah, Harry, Ron sent yeh I assume? Grand, grand. Well, I've got a real treat fer yeh, round the back here."
Bemused, Harry followed the man round the back, revealing a hippogriff resting in the pumpkin patch.
"Hagrid?"
"He's called Buckbeak, beautiful, isn't he? The ministry was all up in arms, ready to execute him, but ol' Madame Longbottom set 'em straight. I thought yeh might like to ride him." Hagrid announced excitedly.
"I'm… not really too fond of animals, Hagrid."
"Oh… well yeh might find Buckbeak is an exception. Trust me, I'm sure yeh'll find the trip interesting." Hagrid replied unsubtly, clearly leading to something.
Sighing, Harry nodded, earning a relieved grin from Hagrid.
"Right, well the first thin' yeh gotta know abou' hippogriffs is, they're proud. Easily offended. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do. What yeh'll want to do is walk towards him, an' yeh bow. Hopefully, he'll bows back, in which case yeh're allowed to touch him."
Swallowing nervously, Harry made a big show of bowing to the creature, which regarded him regally. After a worrying moment of waiting, the animal bowed back.
"Well done, Harry, well done! I think he may let yeh ride him now!" Hagrid cheered, stepping up behind Harry.
"What?" He demanded, shocked. While he had agreed to ride the hippogriff, he had expected a bit more warning.
Despite his protest, Hagrid bodily picked up Harry and placed him on the back of Buckbeak.
"Put yeh over here, jus' behind the win' joint. Don' pull out any o' his feathers, 'cause he won' thank yeh fer tha'." With that thought ringing in Harry's ears, Hagrid slapped the creature, which promptly set off and flew into the sky.
For several nerve wracking minutes, Harry didn't know where to put his hands, until he settled on wrapping his arms around the beast's neck. With his position relatively secure, he was free to actually pay attention to the flight.
As Buckbeak flew a lazy lap around the school, Harry marvelled at how beautiful the castle looked from on-high. Unlike his past experience on a broom, riding on Buckbeak felt liberating. It helped that it didn't feel like Buckbeak's magic was about to expire at any moment, a rather unfortunate feeling he had experienced with the school brooms.
When the lap of Hogwarts was complete, Buckbeak leisurely turned back towards Hagrid's hut, but instead of landing they flew straight over its roof and out over the Forbidden Forest. With each beat of his wings, Buckbeak soared further from the castle, until the school became hard to see.
Only then did the hippogriff dive, circling over a scorched clearing within the forest. The reason for the scorch marks became clear when Buckbeak suddenly squawked and banked to the side, narrowly avoiding a jet of fire. Looking back, Harry realised the jet had originated from a burnt metal cage, within which a dragon glared back.
"Dragons, that's the task." Harry announced without preamble as soon as he entered Nicholas' temporary office.
"Are you sure?" The man replied urgently, looking shocked.
"Extremely, there's four dragons in the forest, one for each of us."
"That's… at least we know what to expect. Better get worried now and prepare, instead of getting shocked on the day. Do you have any plans?"
"Well, I might have an idea." Harry confided, pulling out the dementor's cloak he had retrieved on the way.
A few days later, Fleur sought him out at breakfast.
"'Arry, I know what ze first task is. They've got four dragons, we've each got to fight one." She whispered frantically.
"Oh, erm I already know. I learned about them a few days ago."
"And you did not think to inform me of zis?" She demanded crossly.
"I thought you wanted to compete, surely me telling you what is coming defeats the point?" Harry countered.
"I did, until you became my rival. Zat was also before I realised zey would throw us in front of dragons in the very first task!" She muttered angrily.
"What about Krum and Diggory then, do they feel the same way?"
"I do not know, I have not spoken to either since the Wand Weighing. I do know Professor Karkaroff has seen zem though."
Nodding, Harry stood and walked over to where Diggory was eating, ignoring hateful glares the other Hufflepuffs sent his way. Forming a hasty privacy spell, Harry sat down beside him and said "Hey, Diggory, if you didn't know, the first task is dragons. They've got one for each of us, I think we're meant to fight them."
"Are you sure?" Diggory replied in a hushed voice, looking around anxiously.
"Dead sure, I've seen them. Also we're under a privacy spell, you don't need to look so nervous."
"But how did you find out? We're not supposed to know…" Diggory protested.
"I went flying over the forest and saw them. It sounded like Fleur saw them too, and we both think Krum knows. It was just you who didn't know."
"So why are you telling me? You'd have a much better chance of winning if I didn't know what to expect."
"Because it was the right thing to do." Harry replied, just as he felt his privacy spell tear apart.
"Come with me, Potter." Moody growled, telling Harry who broke his spell.
Shrugging at Diggory, Harry followed Moody out of the hall, neither speaking until they had reached Moody's office.
"The 'right thing to do' eyy?" Moody asked critically as they both sat down.
"Well it was." Harry protested, having taken offense to his tone.
"It was a very decent thing to do, certainly. But, by doing a kind thing, you may be condemning yourself down the line. For all you know, Diggory beating you in this task could cause your death in a later task."
"That seems unlikely." Harry responded
"Oh, you think so, do you lad? 1747, Durmstrang. During the third task the three champions had to find an artefact hidden at the bottom of the nearby sea. The Hogwarts champion was in second place and had been kind to the Beauxbatons champion in third the task before. As they were allowed to start searching based on time, the Durmstrang student had a seven minute head start, while the other two entered at almost the same time.
"At some point, the Hogwarts champion ran across a trap that would only let two champions pass, before killing the third. She incorrectly assumed that because she was in second place, she was the second to encounter the trap. Unfortunately for her, the Beauxbatons student had overtaken her and passed through the trap a minute before.
"Want to know the difference in points before the Hogwarts champion decided to be kind? Four points between second and third place. Each point equals a minute, you do the maths."
"I have no intention of walking into a trap like that. Besides, I'm planning on winning, giving Diggory a heads up is hardly going to let him catch up to me."
"That's the spirit lad!" Moody barked enthusiastically. "So… got any ideas on how you're going to get past your dragon yet?"
"Yes, I've been reading up on a dragon's abilities and defences, and I think I've got it covered."
"Excellent, it always pays to be prepared, Constant Vigilance! I just hope for your sake your plan doesn't revolve around that dragonskin coat you wear. The Tàiyáng dragon is a stealth dragon, which as the name suggests relies primarily on stealth. Against the dragon fire of a calamitous dragon like the Horntail or Short Snout, your cloak would melt within moments." The professor warned.
Finally, the day had arrived. He felt like he should've been nervous, standing in the champions tent and waiting for the judges to arrive. Especially since all his magical possessions were stored within his workshop. He was about to fight a dragon, which was considered such a bad idea that wizards often used 'At least you aren't going to fight a dragon' as a way to comfort friends.
Despite that, he and Nicholas had worked hard to improve his skills, while also working hard on a select few new spells. Most important of all was learning how to harness the Dementor's cloak, which was instrumental to his plan. If the cloak was disallowed, then he'd have to rely on their backup plan, which was far less certain of success.
By wearing the cloak, he could push his own magic into the fabric, giving him some degree of control over its aura. The main benefit was that the aura would stop disrupting his own magic, while continuing to disrupt any foreign magic.
The crutch of the matter was how the Goblet decided what was 'not a wand'. Obviously it didn't count the clothing that had been provided, so he felt he could argue the Dementor's cloak was just decorative. Then there was the how when it came to the Goblet.
If it based cheating off what the Champion thought, then an ignorant champion would be able to get away with more than a guilty champion. But, if it was based on physical detection, then the cloak should be impossible to detect, given its high magical permeability.
In comparison, Diggory looked like he was about to be sick, while both Fleur and Krum had a stoic unease air around them. Bagman completely broke the mood by excitedly leaping into the tent, grinning excitedly, followed by a far more sedate Crouch.
"Good-oh, you're all here then? Time to fill you in! When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag." He went on to explain how the dragon models inside the bag represented the real dragons outside, each of whom would be guarding a golden egg, an egg they were meant to retrieve.
"Before you will be allowed to withdraw your dragon, you must first walk through this gate. The gate is enchanted with the same spells as the task wards, which will trigger if you are carrying anything that breaks the rules. However, this gate will only emit a sound upon being triggered, much better than losing your magic, eyy?" Crouch announced, indicating the device.
When it came time for Harry's turn, he clutched the cloak anxiously and stepped through. To his immense relief, no sound triggered, meaning the cloak was fair game.
Each champion was then allowed to withdraw a dragon, until it was Harry's turn. Not that it mattered much, given the only dragon left was the horntail
Stepping into the arena, the first thing he noticed was the gigantic Hungarian Horntail sitting in the very centre of the stadium. Fortunately, the dragon seemed content enough to ignore him for now. In a ring around the arena were the spectators, with a good majority cheering his name.
Considering almost every single student and teacher was present, along with a bevy of reporters and their cameramen. Finally, there was a section entirely for ministry personnel and visitors. In short, the stands were packed.
With that thought in mind, he threw on the dementor's cloak, which had already made good progress on freezing his hand. Instantly the freezing aura enwreathed his entire body, making his heart briefly stutter.
Before the cloak could try anything else, he focused intently and pointed it towards the elated mood of everyone present. With a new target, the cold became less severe, although it was still present. But, given what he was about to do, he wasn't complaining.
Pulling a hand back, he charged the air in front of him with his power, with the cloak augmenting it and chilling the air to freezing point. Then, taking a step forward, he shot the air towards the dragon like a ballista bolt.
The crowd gasped as the dragon reared back from the hit, flapping her wings and roaring angrily. In reply, Harry fired off another two bolts, barely feeling the strain. With each hit, the audience grew more excited, further feeding the cloak which in turn refilled his magic.
He was in the process of forming a fourth when the dragon locked onto him and let out a bolt of her own. The bolt of fire lacked the intensity of prolonged dragon fire, but it would kill him just as easily. Twirling out of the path of the fire bolt, he released his own bolt, knocking the dragon's head backwards and making it misfire its own bolt.
Now furious, the dragon took a deep breath in, its chest visibly swelling and its throat glowing faintly. Already the air was being saturated by the dragon's internal magic, spreading out from the beast like radiation.
He knew he could try dodging the jet of flame, there were plenty of rocks to use as cover. Instead, he took the risky but flashy response.
With an iron fist over his power, he pulled in the effect of the cloak until it formed a shield of pure magic. At such intense power, the air itself grew dangerously cold, his magic reading -40 degrees before the spell was killed by the cloak's magic. At such a temperature, it was dangerous to his own health, hence the vacuum he was maintaining around the shield.
It was incredibly draining to force the cloak's aura into such a confined shape while also using his control over air to form a near perfect vacuum, but luckily the dragon ensured he did not need to maintain it for long.
The jet of dragon flame tore straight through his vacuum, his magic being eradicated before the flames got close. The cloak's magic was far harder to defeat. The icy magic rushed outwards, enveloping the fiery magic, with each bit of disruptive magic doing its best to devour the other.
Inside his shield, Harry went from near freezing to mildly warm almost immediately, with even the dementor's cloak growing warm to the touch for the first time. Even though the majority of the magical fight was happening directly in front of Harry, enough of the flames had circled around him to hide him from his audience.
Along with the shouts of alarm and fear, he could feel the cloak losing its empathic power, having lost the positive emotions it had been feeding from. Fortunately, there was a large supply of heat that it could draw from, leaving Harry free to use his own magic.
Making a mental note to thank Riddle, Harry created a ball of incandescent shadow. The spell, ruinas inpulsa fluctus, a spell he had found in 'Secrets of the Darkest Arts'. In essence, the spell worked by sending out a shockwave of air, which would try and shred anything it came into contact with.
When used against a human, if the wielder was strong enough it would only leave a bloodstain, but even if the wielder wasn't, anyone who survived it would have permanent scars on any exposed skin.
Obviously Harry had no intention of using it on another human, but given the spell was air based and he had a proficiency with air based spells, he had not hesitated to learn the spell.
So, once the spell had gained enough power, he flung his arms as wide as he could within his flaming sphere and released the shockwave. Instantly the flames around him were snuffed out, the force of the wave strong enough to push the jet of fire back towards the dragon.
The wave then bounced off the ward protecting the spectators and struck the dragon with twin blades of force, finally knocking it off its eggs. After that display, the crowd roared out its approval, drowning out Bagman's commentary.
Along with the crowd's roar, the cloak greedily sucked in their positive emotions, feeding some of it back into Harry. The rush of magic that brought was intoxicating, even if it didn't feel as pure as when he drew magic from the Philosopher's Stone or his mithril.
Flushed on power, Harry pushed both hands out, summoning the strongest bolt of air yet. This bolt was powerful enough to visibly throw the dragon even further away.
That was their main plan, use the cloak to negate the dragon flame, removing its only ranged weapon. Then use air magic to keep the dragon away. Dragons, the Horntail specifically, had numerous weapons, such as their jaws that could snap steel or their wings.
Most wizards assumed their wings were weak points. What they didn't account for is the amount of force a dragon's wing possessed. Add in the Horntail's tail and incredibly grip strength, making it practically suicide to get near a dragon.
Ideally, he'd try to disable the dragon, such as knocking it unconscious. The problem was dragon scale diffused magic, making spells practically useless. Area of effect spells would work, but they'd lack the power to significantly affect a creature as large as the horntail.
While it was still confused, Harry transfigured a nearby boulder into an equally large metal ball, Harry launched it towards the dragon. As the dragon tried to fly out of the way, Harry fired another ball, hitting the beast right in the chest. Despite its size, a dragon was relatively light, making the metal boulder easily bulldoze the dragon.
As Harry ran towards the nest of eggs, the dragon began thrashing wildly, trapped under the bolder. Letting out a huge jet of flame, it swung its tail towards Harry.
Seeing the tail fly towards him, Harry forced his head mithrilium to speed up his thought process. As if everything was moving in slow motion, he carefully jumped over the tail, using a burst of air to ensure he had enough clearance.
Upon landing, he was then forced to slide on a cushion of air under a random jet of flame, using the Dementor's cloak to negate the worst of the fire. Unfortunately, the dragon's fire had done considerable damage to the boulder pinning it down, along with its claws that had gauged deep marks into the metal.
Hastily getting back to his feet, he released the slow motion and ran as hard as he could towards the nest. Cursing whoever enchanted the golden egg to be immune to magic, he scooped it up and began the sprint back to the entrance.
With a deafening roar of anger, the dragon shoved what was left of the boulder off and set off after Harry. With its much larger four legs and wings, it took a single bound to catch him. In a reckless move, Harry fired a jet of high pressure water towards the beast's face. As it retreated from the water, Harry used the cloak to augment a freezing charm, rapidly freezing the water.
Now roaring with pain, Harry waited as it reared back, before desperately running towards the entrance, just crossing the threshold as the horned tail crashed into the ward mere moments later.
First, this is one of the longest single chapters I've written, with most of my longer chapters being amalgamations of 3-4 combined chapters.
Things I think need explaining:
- Harry and Sirius letters: While writing this chapter, unrelated personal events led me to fall into a quite deep depressive state. But, fortunately for the story, my mood was fairly similar to what I felt Harry would feel, particularly with the loneliness. The letter Harry wrote is partially what I wanted to be able to tell someone who cared (Without the magic stuff obviously). The reply he received from Sirius is roughly based on what I told myself in answer, which managed to get me out of that state. Suffice to say, I have recovered enough to finish this chapter, so I won't say it's the wrong advice.
- Buckbeak flight: This was one of the original ideas that started this story, so I'm glad I've finally been able to both write and use it.
- Fleur's accent: I have finally found a way to translate Fleur's accent. It isn't perfect, but by opening French to English in Google Translator, I can then use the "Read aloud" button. I then try to write how the French accent pronounces words. For instance, it turns "This, Harry, there." turns into "Zis, 'Arry, zair" but "think" has a discernible "th" sound, so it remains as "think".
- Ruinas inpulsa fluctus: It is the spell Voldemort uses in the Order of the Phoenix Film ministry duel to explode all the windows. In this, he found it in the same book Tom Riddle pointed Harry to.