Hi!

Thanks to James Birdsong and TheReader81 for they reviews. It is always a pleasure to from the reader what they think, be it they like it or they have constructive criticism to share. Don't hesitate to tell me! I'd also love to know which is your favourite so far, which you didn't like and why, if you wish to have one in particular written...

This one had been a lot of fun for me to write, even if it took efforts and time to get it to where it's at. As usual, I'm still French and I have no beta, so every mistake is my own. If you spot one and tell me, I'll be happy to correct it.

Have a nice time!

I no try, I succeed

Dobby knew he swore to never try to save Harry Potter's life again. He knew that. But he wasn't trying, he was succeeding, right?

When he heard the Great Harry Potter, the one who freed him from the bad masters, the one who treated him like a real person, when he heard him moan about dragons to his friend the crazy Hermione Granger, he knew he couldn't just sit by and let him die.

So when he bought a cow with his pay, and a sheep, and a pig, and captured a big fish, he was smiling, still trying to convince himself that he wasn't a bad elf because he was breaking a promise. His first ever promise as a free elf, actually.

He wasn't trying, he was succeeding. He would be an even badder elf if he didn't help Harry Potter.

He was there, hidden at the top of the crowd when they brought the dragons for the first task. They weren't bringing regular ones, no, they were bringing nesting mothers. Over protecting, highly hormonal nesting mothers. He didn't like the people who organised this tournament, and hated the ones who forced the Great Harry Potter to participate. As a Hogwarts elf, he was supposed to serve the school and its inhabitants. Really, he was fulfilling his mission to the best of his abilities, making sure that no one on the school grounds would be injured.

Digestion was a fickle thing, because when Cedric Diggory entered the arena, his dragon was having terrible gas. She had been fed a whole cow less than an hour before so she wasn't hungry. The juicy dog the young man conjured would have garnered her attention any other day, but not today. She just wanted to fart in peace and be left alone. But those damned handlers made her go into a noisy place, with screaming little pathetic humans, and added something to her nest. She was pissed. And gassy.

The tiny little human in front of her wasn't much of a threat, but she couldn't let him get closer. She opened her mouth to show him that he wasn't welcomed. At the same time, the pockets of gas that had been building in her intestines were ejected from her body. The whole arena fired up, blue flames licking the feet of the first-row spectators. Dobby yelped in fright. It wasn't supposed to do that! What did he do? He torn his ears as penitence and would burn his fingers later.

When the arena cleared, twelve handlers jumped into it to rescue the poor Hogwarts Champion, or to recover his charred remains before Marguerite could swallow him. But alas, the lad didn't need any rescuing. The fierce dragon was soundly asleep and Cedric was intact, if naked. The fire-proof potion he found on his side table at sunrise had proved handy. It took a while for the crowd to calm down from the fire induced panic, time Cedric used to slowly walk to the nest and take the golden egg. Then, it took even more time for half the spectators to calm down from having seen a seventeen years-old Adonis in his birth suit.

Bozo, the Prophet photographer, who in his long career had seen almost everything, kept his cool and took many, many pictures. Sure, they would have to blur some of them to publish in the newspaper, but they would sell very well in the black market, unblemished. He smiled, he was a rich man.

Dobby, hidden at the top of the stands, bounced and whopped of joy. The potion had worked: the dragon was neutralised! The Great Harry Potter would be safe!

Then Fleur Delacour walked confidently in the arena. A lot of people held their breath. What would happen? Would she end up naked too? Hope shone in so many eyes. Some didn't even dare to blink.

Her dragon had perfect digestion, thank you very much. The sheep she had for breakfast had been nice, even if she wouldn't have said no to a second serving. She was nesting after all, and she had to eat a lot to be able to heat up her eggs properly. She was actually doing exactly that. But something was amiss. The flames bursting out of her mouth weren't red and gold as usual. No, they were green. She knew that sheep had a strange taste! Under the very eyes of a thousand people, and one dejected champion, the golden egg melted, in a piercing screech that startled the dragon. Dolly roared to the sky, and three very crispy bird fell on the floor.

Then, unexpectedly, she closed her eyes and snored bouts of green flames from its nose. Fleur looked at her for a moment. She conjured a lasso and successfully recovered the blob of gold that had been an egg mere minutes ago, on the first try.

Many people in the crowd groaned. They wanted to see some skin, for Merlin's sake!

Speaking of skin, when Viktor Krum faced his dragon, she was furiously itching. She was rolling on the floor, trying to use the little rocks to relieve her fretting scales. The world of dragon's lore was turned upside down that day, a little bit like this fierce mother was, with her four legs up in the air and her wings extending and retracting against the floor. Why the dragon handlers were baffled? Well, nobody knew until that very moment that a dragon could be allergic to pork.

Dobby grimaced. Did the potion he filled the animal with, in place of all of its organs, had an unforeseen side effect? She was acting more like a puppy than the terrifying creatures of legends. Viktor Krum had spent countless hours perfecting his conjunctivitis spell and aim. It had been for naught as all Babe wanted was to be scratched. Viktor was many things according to the press, but nobody could accuse him to be dumb. He changed tactics and produced a square of what looked like artificial grass, if grass was two feet tall and made of titanium coated with diamond. It was beautiful, and many women looked at their wedding ring wistfully. Babe roared with pleasure when her back connected with this wonderful contraption. In thank, she pushed the weird thing that her handlers had put in her nest toward the tiny human.

The crowd was stunned. The dragon had just given Viktor Krum the golden egg! The champion bowed to her, and left the arena in complete silence. Then the creature fell asleep and the handlers took her out.

The last dragon to be placed in the arena looked rightly terrifying. She had angry eyes, sharp claws, deadly spikes, and no interest in playing nice. First, they took her from her home, forced her into a cage, moved her Mushu knows where, where it rained all the time and fed her badly. She wasn't angry, no, she was furious! They put her in a cage! A CAGE! And this morning, instead of giving her her usual two dozen chicken and bison, some microscopic squeaking thing brought her a killer whale. A KILLER WHALE! A despicable sea creature, to her, the master of skies! It was unacceptable! She was beyond fury. She toasted three handlers just to show them their place, not enough to kill them unfortunately, their kind retrieved them too fast for that. Finally, she was let out of her cage, but those pests had put chains on her back legs. And they dared touch her eggs!

The mass of wizards and witches watched with morbid fascination as Willa, born Norbert, shook off her chains and did her damn best to snack on the handlers. Dumbledore himself had to shield them from the onslaught so they could leave the arena uninjured.

A very young, very stressed green-eyed teenager came to face her. He didn't even put his two feet wholly onto the arena that he had to run to avoid the fire balls she sent him. She was very proud of them, she learned to do that observing a handler playing with his cigarette smoke. She could even spell the whole alphabet that way if she wanted to.

Today, however, she wasn't in the mood for poetry. All she wanted to do was to kill. No one would ever dare kidnap her and mess with her future children again! This skinny two-legged jumping over boulders, rolling on the ground, would provide a good entertainment until she could devise a better strategy to fulfil her goal. In between two fireballs, that looked more like spears than spheres, she burped. Some black flames licked her face and made her giddy. Stupid killer whale was messing with her hormones! She was pissed, but hilarious too. The world of dragon lore was, for the second time that day, turned upside down.

Nobody ever thought to feed a killer whale to a dragon. Dragons never hunted them, even if they had been seen to occasionally feast on sharks or dolphins when need arose. This was not because they were hard to hunt nor eat, no, it was for safety concerns. In a world where dragons were endangered species, under constant threat of being assaulted for their scales, blood, teeth, heartstrings, claws, and every other parts of their body really, they had to stay vigilant at every time.

Killer whales, when consumed, where euphoriants for them. If a nesting dragon on the war path was terrifying, a dragon high on euphoric substance was the nightmare of nightmares.

Dobby's eyes went wide. Why the sleeping potions he filled the giant fish with wasn't working? All the previous scaled monsters had been taken down. But this one was agitated, not sleepy!

Harry Potter had a plan before he met Willa, born Norbert. His plan wasn't the best, he knew that, but it was a plan. Summon your firebolt and improvise. He stayed awake all night to have a grasp on the summoning charm. Now, he was running around like a mad toddler that ate all the ice cream. His plan didn't last half a second, and meanwhile he was well into the second part, improvising, he was too busy with avoiding to be barbecued to start any kind of thinking. Finally, after what seemed like hours, but had only been about twenty minutes, he got a respite.

The crazy shit dragon burped black flamed over her own face. She then started to spell the whole alphabet in the air, still with those weird black flames that kept in place for thirty second before fading away. When she began to spell "Fuck you", his brain suddenly concocted a very stupid, but maybe also very genius plan. Tom Riddle drew fiery letters in the air back in the Chamber, didn't he? Harry could do it for sure.

"Hi! How are you?" He wrote in capitals with his wand. His letters were more pink than red, but hey, who cared? If it worked, it worked.

"Happy and angry!" She wrote back.

Some people fainted in the stand. Over half of the handler did too. The world of dragon lore wasn't turned upside down, no, it was their whole universe that had to be, quite literally, rewritten.

Thus, started the first ever recorded conversation in History between a dragon and a human. Harry became the first Dragon Flamer, adding to a fame he never wanted in the first place. It took him half an hour to get the golden egg. Just like his fellow Tri-Wizard Tournament champions, it wasn't due to his magical prowess, but because of a sudden bout of sleepiness overtaking the high mama, who lost consciousness protectively clutching at her eggs, her real eggs.

The golden one had been discarded on the side. Harry picked it easily and left the Arena on his toes, not wanting for one bit to wake up the dragon.

Dobby, in the stand, was relieved. For a second, he'd been afraid about his saviour's survival. Then, he was proud.

He succeeded! The Great Harry Potter was safe!

Until the next death threat, that it.