The Tournament, in addition to being terribly dangerous and stupid, also had stupid champions, Hermione decided. Cedric's strategy, to face down a dragon, was to transfigure a rock on the ground into a dog and try to get the dragon to go for the dog instead of him.

"And you dated him!" Tracey crowed, shoving Hermione. "You dated that!"

"She was formally courted by him," Daphne protested. "There's a difference."

"Yeah, well, I cut that short, didn't I?" Draco said smugly. "Should have figured if pretty-boy Diggory lost to me, he'd lose to a real dragon as well, yeah?"

"He hasn't lost yet," Millie commented. "And even if he gets severely burned, they've got Madame Pomfrey on standby. He'll probably live."

Millie's comment proved correct: Cedric managed to get his golden egg, but he acquired some severe burns in the process, only narrowly avoiding the full blast of his dragon's ire. Hogwarts erupted into cheers, screaming and stamping their feet, and the ramshackle stands shook.

Cedric was hurried off the field to Madame Pomfrey while the dragon tamers came out to swap out the dragons. Something seemed to be happening at the judge's table.

"Very good indeed!" Bagman declared. "And now the marks from the judges!"

"Marks?" Tracey asked. "Did Bagman mention how they were scoring this?"

They watched as Madame Maxime raised her wand in the air. What looked like a long silver ribbon shot out of it, which twisted into a large number 6.

"Marks out of 10, you think?" Millie guessed, as Crouch shot out a 6 as well.

The judges gave Cedric uniformly middling marks, presumably because of the severe damage he'd taken from the dragon fire. After his final total was announced (37), there was applause once more.

"Next up, from Beauxbatons, we have Miss Fleur Delacour, who will be facing down the Welsh Green!" Bagman announced. "Miss Delacour, if you please!"

The dragon was already ready with another golden egg in place as Fleur came out. Hermione held her breath as she leaned forward, her heart pounding in her chest.

Fleur's strategy was much smarter than Cedric's – she stayed as far away from the dragon as she could, instead using a charm to put the dragon into a trance. The dragon seemed to get sleepy, only for Fleur's luck to fail – the dragon fell asleep right on top of the golden egg, making it impossible to retrieve.

There was a collective oohhh at Fleur's rotten luck, and then a gasp as Fleur moved to another part of the arena and hit the dragon with a red spell. The dragon woke back up with a furious roar, on its feet again in a moment.

Fleur's trance charm took longer to work the second time, but the dragon finally went sleepy again, this time falling asleep away from the egg. Fleur quietly crept around the dragon, only to have it snore, a giant jet of flame shooting out and catching her robes on fire. The crowd gasped, but Fleur had already put it out with a bit of water from her wand, and then she had the egg, the only damage taken a bit of singed fabric.

Beauxbatons cheered, as did the rest of them – Fleur's performance, especially in contrast to Cedric's, had been much better. Perhaps less objectively exciting, Hermione evaluated, but no less tense – they'd all watched on tenterhooks as Fleur charmed the dragon, waiting to see if it would work.

Fleur's marks reflected as such – she was given a total of 51 from the judges, firmly establishing her ahead of Cedric in the rankings. Hermione cheered and clapped as loudly as she could, hoping Fleur could hear her with the others, and Blaise whistled from next to her, the sharp sound echoing above the cheers.

"Next we have the champion from Durmstrang, Viktor Krum!" Bagman announced. "And here he comes now!"

"Poor Harry," Daphne said, watching Krum. "The rotten luck to go last and have to wait through all of this."

"Nah," Pansy dismissed. "It's fantastic luck."

Daphne looked at Pansy in astonishment. "Are you serious right now?"

"Deadly." Pansy was smirking. "You'll see when it's his turn, Daph."

Viktor's strategy, apparently, was to aim for the dragon's eyes, making Hermione wonder if this was the idea Sirius had proposed to Harry. Viktor's aim landed a hit shortly, blinding the dragon and making it roar in agony. The dragon stomped around, trampling half of the real eggs the golden egg had been nestled among, but Viktor's Quidditch reflexes held true, and he managed to snatch the golden egg without difficulty once the dragon had stomped off in a different direction, still roaring with pain. The stands erupted into cheers once more, impressed – the extra eggs may have taken damage, but Krum had managed to get through entirely unharmed.

The judges were speaking amongst themselves for a moment while Viktor was taken off the field, the last dragon being brought in by the keepers.

"Did you tell Sirius what Harry's strategy was?" Blaise asked Hermione abruptly.

"Um…" Hermione considered. "I don't think so."

Blaise slowly turned to look at her.

"Don't you think," he said, "that you might've mentioned it to him?"

"I didn't want to ruin it," Hermione defended.

"He's going to think his godson's committing suicide—"

"Only for a split second, and then he'll think it's hilarious—"

"Shut up," Tracey shushed them. "It's Harry's turn next."

"Last up, we have Mr. Potter! The—err—champion from Blackwell School of Spells, I suppose, though he does still attend Hogwarts…" Bagman grinned and shrugged. "Mr. Potter will be facing down the Hungarian Horntail to win his egg!"

The Blackwell students seemed fully prepared and ready to cheer on their champion as they stomped and clapped; they started up a familiar boom – boom – clap rhythm, as if they'd rehearsed, and Hermione laughed, joining in on the familiar boom – boom – clap. She was the only one in Slytherin to do so, but across the way several students in Hufflepuff and Gryffindor joined in as well almost by instinct, and Hermione grinned.

As Harry entered the stadium, he looked up and around, taking in the stadium, the cheering crowd, the boom – boom – clap, the angry dragon standing directly over its eggs snarling, and the golden egg. Hermione could practically see Harry shrug as he started walking towards the golden egg.

"And Mr. Potter starts out taking a direct path to the prize," Bagman commentated. "That Horntail looks angry – I think she's gearing up – how will Potter handle this?"

Sure enough, the Hungarian Horntail roared, a massive jet of flame belting forward and utterly engulfing Harry in fire. The crowd gasped in horror, screaming and recoiling from what they had just seen. People were shrieking and panicking, and Bagman seemed horrified as well.

"My god," he breathed, his voice still booming out over the stands. "I—ladies and gentlemen, I'm very sorry to have witnessed that with you—wait! WAIT! He's—he's still walking!"

Hermione felt herself grin as the dragon fire dissipated, revealing one perfectly fine Harry, who was still walking toward the golden egg. Scraps of burned fabric flaked off of him, leaving him in only shiny-looking black boxer-briefs of some sort, his skin entirely unharmed.

There was a collective gasp, then the crowd went nuts, cheering.

"Great Scott, it's as if he's fireproof!" Bagman cried out, his voice carrying above the cheers for Harry. "Did he cast a shield? I didn't even see his wand—oh, here it comes again!"

The crowd held its collective breath this time as the Horntail breathed fire at Harry again, and when Harry emerged again, still just walking towards the egg, the cheering from the stands was incredible – the Blackwell students were all screaming and banging their staffs on the stands, and even Hogwarts was cheering as well, caught up in the drama of it all.

The Hungarian Horntail, seeming to realize that the small human heading toward her eggs was not harmed by fire, changed strategy. She reared back her thrashing spiked tail, before whipping her tail at Harry in a blur, but Harry didn't even flinch – he raised his right hand up, and an enormous outcropping of stone erupted out of the ground to block the dragon's tail. The tail cracked the stone into boulders and large rocks upon impact, and the dragon roared in pain and fell back as the crowd cheered again.

"Is he free-transfiguring the ground on the fly?" Bagman was commentating, excited. "That's extremely difficult magic! Potter's our youngest champion, only 14 – is he really—?"

Harry was incredibly close to the nest now, and, furious, the Hungarian Horntail lunged for him, her evil-looking fangs descending—

A tall pillar of stone erupted from the ground where Harry had just been, while Harry neatly side-stepped out of the way, the Horntail's mouth coming down over the stone. Harry had moved at the very last second – the Horntail was gagging now, spurts of flame curling out at the bottom of the rock, and it seemed trapped.

"The Horntail's got that stone stuck deep in its throat and neck now, I'd imagine!" Bagman crowed, highly amused. "It'd have to really think about how to get out of this one— Oh! And now Potter's got the egg!"

The crowd erupted into frantic cheers and catcalls, everyone stomping on the bleachers as they screamed. They'd all been convinced Harry had burned to death, only to see him emerge completely unharmed as if he did this every day.

"The youngest champion gets his egg the quickest—that wasn't even five minutes!" Bagman was yelling. "Well, this is certainly going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!"

Harry walked to the middle of the pit, holding up his golden egg with a wide grin as everyone screamed cheers at him, the dragon-keepers scrambling over to the Horntail, who was still gagging on the pillar of stone. One of them hurried over to Harry and appeared to say something, to which Harry nodded and gestured with his hand, and abruptly the stone pillar collapsed, freeing the Horntail once more.

Harry alone seemed unworried, walking over to the entrance in the enclosure to leave as the dragon keepers surrounded the Horntail, everybody casting stunners simultaneously to try and subdue it.

"Madame Pomfrey's going to have a conniption," Draco cackled. "After watching that—"

"Did you see Sirius?" Tracey said, grinning. "He was laughing when Harry emerged in nothing but his drawers—"

After the dragon was safely removed, Harry came back to the entrance to get his marks, golden egg in hand. He was now draped in a red sheet that was wrapped around him like a toga, which Hermione found intensely amusing.

"He's still making a point," Hermione told the others. "He could transfigure that into robes if he wanted, but no, this tournament's not even worth the effort of that—"

Harry's marks took the longest to come out, and there was fierce arguing at the judges' table. If Hermione had to guess, she imagined one of the criteria for scoring had been 'doesn't get hit by dragon fire', and they were now having to reevaluate if that was fair, or if the criterion should be retroactively changed to 'doesn't get burned by dragon fire'. It seemed the revisionist side prevailed – all of the judges save Karkaroff gave Harry a 10, while Karkaroff grudgingly issued an 8.

"58 – he won!" Draco crowed. "That's the highest anyone's gotten so far!"

"As much as anyone can be said to win these tasks," Blaise commented. "It's only really the last task that matters."

"Did he even have his wand?" Daphne was wondering aloud. "I didn't see it, and it might have burned away…"

Everyone filed out of the stands in reverse order, but Sirius and the Blackwell students hung back, lingering around the border of the enclosure with their staffs and their brooms, giving everybody who looked at them a smirking, challenging look. Hermione and the other Shadows hung back as well, meeting up with Susan and Luna, both of whom were practically bouncing with excitement.

"That was incredible!" Susan said gleefully. "It looked effortless. Oh, I'm so proud of him!"

The champions finally emerged from the tent. One side of Cedric's face was covered in thick orange paste, making Hermione wince. Viktor was immediately swarmed by fans, making him sigh, and there was a happy cry of "Sirius!" from Harry, meaning Blackwell had gotten to him first. Hermione moved around the mob of fans and friends to the side, where Fleur was exiting, idly winding her circlet back into her hair, completely unharmed.

"Fleur!" Hermione called.

Fleur turned, and a brilliant smile spread across her face as Hermione approached.

"Hermione!" she said. "You saw, yes? You cheered for me?"

"Of course I cheered for you!" Hermione said, laughing. "You were brilliant!"

"Ah, I wish," Fleur said. She shook her head, amused. "Ah, quelle poisse! If the dragon had fallen the other way, I would have won."

"You still did great," Hermion praised her. "You should have gotten higher marks, honestly – you were the only one to take steps to make sure you weren't in danger from the dragon."

"Then my robes should not have caught fire, yes?" Fleur seemed amused. "I did well, Hermione, but I could have done better. I am okay with that."

She smiled at Hermione, who couldn't help but smile back. It was difficult, to not throw herself onto Fleur and hug her tightly here.

"I was so worried," Hermione admitted. "I'm so glad you're okay."

Fleur's eyes softened.

"Ah, mon chou, that only means you care, yes?" Fleur said, giving her a soft smile. "It does not mean you did not have faith in me."

There was a sudden bustle of people, and then there were more Beauxbatons students descending on Fleur, pushing Hermione out of the way and to the edge of the sudden crowd, all speaking rapidly and excitedly in French. Hermione sighed, but she waved to Fleur, who smiled and waved back, before allowing herself to be swept up in the crowd and away from the arena.

When the French had left, Hermione saw Viktor's crowd and Cedric's fans had vanished as well, and all that was left was the Shadows and those from Blackwell. Hermione moved toward them, where Harry was talking to Sirius and laughing, and as Hermione rejoined the group, Harry turned to her, a wide grin on his face.

"Brilliant!" he praised, laughing. "Hermione, this is brilliant! The tetra-wizard tournament, now! What a way to dump on this entire stupid thing!"

Hermione laughed. "I'm glad you approve."

"Oh, I do," Harry assured her, smirking. "Sirius was just telling me how that particular reveal went over with the judges."

Hermione turned to Sirius, who wore a wicked grin.

"I've never seen Dumbledore so frustrated," he said cheerfully. "The French bird seemed to think it was only fair that you have a Headmaster present as well, so she was on board. Bagman and Crouch were stunned, but they kept citing the rules and shaking their heads. Dumbledore and Karkaroff were against it, but in the end, they got outvoted."

"Brilliant," Harry said, laughing.

"This is the best prank I've pulled in a long time," Sirius said happily. His mischievous delight danced in his eyes and in the excitement in his voice, making him look years younger. "And you! Harry! Walking directly into the dragon flame – only to be completely immune! That was fantastic!"

"Tens across the board," Harry said happily. He paused. "Well, save Karkaroff, but we already suspected he wasn't going to play fair."

"Karkaroff…" Sirius scowled, his expression darkening. "Harry, you keep an eye on Karkaroff – he was a Death Eater."

"What?" Hermione gasped, appalled.

"He was a Death Eater," Sirius said grimly. "He got caught. He was in Azkaban with me, but he got released."

"Karkaroff got released?" Harry repeated, his eyes wide with alarm. "Why did they release him?"

"He did a deal with the Ministry of Magic," Sirius said bitterly, scowling. "He said he'd seen the error of his ways, and then he named names… he put a load of other people into Azkaban in his place. I'd bet everything that's why Dumbledore wanted an Auror at Hogwarts this year – to keep an eye on him. Moody caught Karkaroff, you know – put him into Azkaban in the first place."

"Is this public knowledge?" Hermione demanded. "Do people just know that this evil man is teaching a new generation of students?"

"No idea," Sirius said darkly. "I only know because I was in Azkaban. I doubt it was covered by the Prophet…"

Sirius kept talking to Harry, something about being careful around Karkaroff and the Durmstrang champion, but Hermione had tuned them out, her mind spinning and her eyes unseeing as she processed this.

Karkaroff, a Death Eater. Former Death Eater, if he was to be believed, which Hermione doubted. It was possible, of course, but she severely doubted a truly reformed Death Eater would go teach at a school known for teaching the Dark Arts. A Death Eater – the ones who spread the rumor that Muggleborns stole magic, and the ones who had wiped out a generation of wizards from Blackwell.

Steeling herself, Hermione went over to the Blackwell students who were idly chatting with the other Shadows and amongst themselves. If anyone deserved to know about Karkaroff's nasty past so they could protect themselves, it was them – especially if they intended on still coming to the challenges to cheer Harry on.